“Why’d you have a garage apartment?” he asked, biting into his burger and looking way happier than she could stabbing the cellulose lettuce and pretending her salad was delish. His hair ruffled in the breeze and the visor made him look sporty...masculine...sexy.
“My mother was Bud’s housekeeper, so we lived at Briarcliff—that’s the name Bud’s ex-wife, Phyllis, gave the estate. Outside of the four years I spent at college, it’s been home. I can’t complain, though, because it was a beautiful place to grow up. There were stables, a tennis court and a pool. I used those things whenever I wanted. Well, at least after Phyllis divorced Bud. I was nine years old when they split. Their kids were grown so I didn’t have to worry about waiting until no one was using the pool for a pool party.”
“And your father?”
Maggie shrugged. “I don’t have a father.”
He jerked his gaze on her, making her feel naked...and not in a good way. “What do you mean?”
“Well, my conception was a one-night thing that happened when my mother was young. The Edelmans used to have big parties and, honestly, I’m not sure my mother knows who my father is. I know it’s weird, but I truly never missed out on having a father figure. I had the gardener, the horse trainer and even Bud.”
Cal’s eyes narrowed. “But it doesn’t bother you not knowing?”
“Maybe a bit, but I had a good mother and a happy upbringing.”
“Well, that’s something,” he acknowledged with a nod.
“So what about your father? You never mentioned him.”
Cal looked away. “Because he’s not worth talking about.”
Maggie popped a smashed grape tomato into her mouth and chewed. She might not have daddy issues, but she could see Cal did. “I’m sorry if my attitude about my father came off as flippant. Plenty of kids out there don’t have anyone to love them, so I was glad I had my mom...and Bud to a degree. He was a mentor, always there when I needed him.”
“He left us when I was a month old,” Cal said.
“That’s awful. Do you know where he is?” she asked, setting her hand on his thigh.
“Probably working a spread up in Montana or Utah. He calls about once a year. Sometimes I answer. He’s proud of me. That’s what he likes to say, but that’s all he has to offer. If I weren’t winning big, he’d never call,” Cal said.
“I’m sorry,” she said, hearing the anger in his voice. She’d never known her father—no name and no face—so she didn’t have to miss him. Obviously, Cal resented the man who’d thrown him away. For good reason.
“Don’t be. He lost the chance to be my father a long time ago. He was the sperm donor, like your dad.” He wadded up the wrapper and tossed it into the bag before shoving several fries into his mouth. “Can we drop this conversation? I like talking to you, but not about my family. Or the PBR. Or...let’s go ahead and rule out terrorism, gay marriage and anything to do with reality television, okay?”
“Jeez, what’s left to talk about?” she joked, still reeling from the revelation they both lacked fathers in their lives. Talk about two peas in a pod.
“How about the fact I can’t take my eyes off you?” he said. Case in point, his gaze was on her, traveling down to the stretchy top of the sundress.
“I bet you say that to all your bosses.” She laughed, even as she felt desire stir inside her.
“I’ve never worked for anyone who looked like you...for anyone who made me want to lick my way up her neck.”
“Yeah, that probably would have landed you in the dirt with a black eye,” she said, chasing an olive around the tasteless dressing. She should have splurged on a cheeseburger like Cal had, but she was so accustomed to making the wise decision in her life that she hadn’t thought twice about how nice a juicy burger covered with American cheese would taste.
Cal shoved the paper bag to the side and took the tray she’d been holding and set it aside. “You’re finished with that, right?”
“I guess I am now,” she said, tossing her fork into the depths of the below-par salad. She wasn’t hungry any longer. At least not for food.
Cal leaned into her, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “So since we’re being so honest on this little trip into town, let’s talk turkey.”
“Turkey, huh?”
“Yeah, ’cause I want you. And you want me.”
“Or so you think.”
His teeth flashed white against his tanned skin. Amused by her. Like a cat playing with a mouse he’d cornered. That thought made her tingly. Excited.
“Oh, you want me, baby. You’re trying to tell yourself that you shouldn’t indulge.” He looked back at the half-eaten salad sitting on the tailgate.
“Or maybe I know you’re not good for me. That you’d make me fat.” Keeping a barrier between them had seemed so important, but now she wondered if she’d been deluding herself. A woman didn’t run from the kind of want that rose inside of her. It wasn’t going away.
“Oh, baby. I won’t make you fat,” he said, tracing her bottom lip with a finger.
“You won’t?” she whispered, wanting to believe him.
“I’ll make you a lot of things, but fat won’t be one of them.” He set a hand on her hip, drawing her around so she faced him. His breath was as hot as the wind tangling her hair. She could smell the mixture of Irish Spring soap and a unique scent that was decidedly male. Intoxicating. “What will you make me?”
“Tired.” He kissed her bare shoulder.
“Sweaty.” And the sensitive spot behind her ear.
“Satisfied.” Then his lips captured hers. And it was good. So, so good.
Maggie couldn’t help herself. She leaned in and kissed him back. Tongues met and she sighed against his lips as she tasted French fries. Not cellulose lettuce and crappy ranch dressing. But hot, delicious, very-bad-for-you goodness that embodied everything Cal Lincoln was.
Cal cradled her jaw, angling her head so he could take the kiss deeper. A curl of heat unfurled in her stomach, blanketing her like Texas humidity. The sweet desire absent for the past few years latched onto her, sank its teeth into her.
Somehow one of her hands found its way to his stomach, sliding over the soft cotton, as she reveled in the hard male beneath. Making a little mewling sound deep in her throat, she allowed her hand to drop down to the elastic waistband of his shorts.
Cal broke the kiss, his gaze probing her eyes. “We both need this.”
His words were meant to confirm, but instead doubt threatened her desire. She needed lots of things—a new career, a quick sale of the ranch and probably a pair of cowboy boots, thanks to that snake. But hot sweaty sex with Cal could be Dangerous with a capital D. She didn’t need dangerous or complicated.
“But we shouldn’t,” she said, pulling her hand back into her lap, knowing she sounded halfhearted. “We’re both at a weird place right now. You with your shoulder. Me with this whole ranch thing. Sex could make things more complicated.”
Cal raised his eyebrows. “I see. Another control issue?”
“Making good decisions is not trying to control everything or everyone.”
“What you see as complicated, I see as simple. There’s no downside to me and you having good old-fashioned naked fun.”
“I’m not the kind of girl a man has fun with, naked or otherwise,” she said, wanting to believe that about herself. Lord knew she’d used that line several times before. She wasn’t like other girls. She didn’t do one-night stands or booty calls. She dated the right way—dinner, movies and maybe a good-night kiss with no tongue. Cal Lincoln made her want to break all the rules. He made her want to straddle him right there on the tailgate. To hell with the unwritten rules of dating.
Of course, Maggie knew the reason she’d always been careful when it came to men—her mother’s experience. Her mother had been young when she went to work for the Edelmans and she’d obviously bumbled into something she couldn’t handle one weekend. The result of tossing out the unwritten rules had cried for 2:00 a.m. feedings. So it was only natural Maggie grew up trying to make the right decisions all the time. Cal Lincoln wasn’t the right decision. He was a bored cowboy looking to pass some time before he took off again. And whether he needed the job or not, he worked for her. Too many arrows pointed away from him. Only one pointed toward him. Being horny was no good reason to jump into something that could make the shaky ground beneath her crack.
Cal traced a finger over her shoulder. “Just because I want to bend you over this tailgate and make you scream doesn’t mean I don’t respect you.”
She snorted, pulling away. “Some would say that’s an oxymoron.”
“Some don’t understand how mature adults play. Think about it this way. We have a little over a month until I leave for Mobile and you put the ranch on the block and head back east. Game over. But until we get there, we could have weeks of laughter, good sex and companionship.”
He made it sound so simple.
“Plus, since we know we’re done in August, we don’t have to go through the cold silence, nasty fights and a hurtful breakup. We’ll have good, dirty fun between the sheets, on the new kitchen countertops...in that new shower we’ll put in.”