“So you were headed there and ended up here?”
A slight shake of her head. “Not so much.”
How kooky would it sound if she told him the truth? She gave this some thought,
then conceded that she was enjoying the conversation, so why not keep it real?
Admittedly, though, her explanation sounded crazy to her own ears as she said, “I
pinned a mammoth map of Texas to my office wall and threw a dart at it.” Vowing
she’d give whatever town she hit a try. “So here I am.”
“Interesting,” he said, though not in a patronizing way. More as if he understood
the importance of her spontaneity, her need for a clean break.
But, of course, that was impossible. Even she hadn’t processed what she’d just
done.
“You know, darlin’, sometimes Fate deals an unexpected hand.”
“And forces us to make something of it?”
His beautiful blue irises sparkled as his eyes crinkled around the edges. “Hold ‘em
or fold ‘em. It’s up to you.”
How true. And how funny that she could feel lighthearted, unsettled and turned-on
all at the same time. It was a curious mixture of sensations that left her a bit on edge, but which also made her body hum with a new energy she’d not felt before. As if she
was on the verge of a significant precipice—a new discovery of herself. A new existence with limitless opportunities because, this time around, she wouldn’t let anyone dictate what she did and how she did it. Henceforth, she was taking complete responsibility for herself. No man—and certainly not her mother—would influence her decisions to their
self-serving benefit.
“Looks like you’re done here,” the hot bartender said as he whisked away the
discarded glasses. “Unless you want one more for last call,” he added with another
wink, indicating he already knew her answer.
“Think I’ve hit my quota.”
“Then you’re gonna need a ride home.”
The independent, responsible Elizabeth her mother had drilled into her since birth
caused her to automatically reach for the cell phone in her purse and hold it up. “Got the number to the cab company on speed dial.”
As the words spewed forth from her mouth, she realized her colossal mistake. She’d
just declined the invitation she’d been angling for tonight.
Damn! I really do suck at this!
The disappointment that flickered in the Devil’s eyes made her consider amending
her statement. Ask if he was offering to take her home, so she could accept. God, how she wanted to feel this man’s hands on her body and his cock in her wet cunt. It was
more than an unwavering desire. It was an unrelenting craving!
15
Calista Fox
But her rejection stood between them, as though scrawled across a wall in big red
letters. The next thing she knew, he was turning away to get the check.
Fuck!
She paid the bill while contemplating a way to reengage the sexy cowboy. She’d
blown it badly, she knew. But hitting on a man—particularly one who promised instant
sexual gratification with just a wink and a smile—clearly wasn’t her forte. And any
attempt to rectify the situation would make her look desperate. She may not have a life anymore, but damn it, she still had a shred of dignity left. She clung to the last vestiges of her pride with all her might because, in the grand scheme of things, it was all she had.
Well, hell. There was reality again, trying to get the best of her.
She slid off the barstool and tucked her clutch under her arm. Unfortunately, it took a bit more effort to hold her head high as she slinked off than it had when she’d strutted in. “Thanks for the drinks, cowboy.”
As she walked away, she hit the speed dial number she’d programmed in earlier.
She’d hoped to not need it. Elizabeth had come to Wade’s Saloon looking for action,
plain and simple. Yet letting off some sexual steam was clearly not in the cards tonight.
“Hey, wait!” the Devil called out behind her, but she was already headed toward
the door, determined not to become further fodder for the Wilder rumor mill.
Much to her dismay, when the dispatcher for the only cab company in town came
on the line, she advised Elizabeth it would be at least twenty minutes before someone could pick her up—about the same amount of time it’d taken for to get picked up back
at her cottage when she’d started this misadventure. She pushed her way through the
small crowd clamoring for last call and shoved open the heavy door that led to the
stifling Texas heat and humidity.
Wow, twenty minutes…
She swore under her breath, momentarily missing New York and its quick escape
from scenes such as this. A multitude of rapid ways in which to flee her own idiocy.
Then she thought of Peter’s betrayal, which had been followed by a desperate plea
to marry him. She now knew that was merely necessary for him to perpetuate the
façade he maintained. Adding insult to injury, her controlling mother had rented her
apartment right out from underneath Elizabeth in an attempt to force her hand at
Peter’s marriage proposal. Oh and she couldn’t forget the way her boss, CEO of one of the world’s largest industrial risk insurance companies, had thrown her under the bus over a corporate debacle that would cost millions to rectify. She’d provided her public relations expertise and crisis management skills, to no avail. After weeks of back
peddling, he’d inevitably used Elizabeth and her PR department as a scapegoat to save his own reputation.
Alas, her love life wasn’t the only thing to hit the skids. The reminder once again
made New York the last place she wanted to be.
16
Devil in Texas
Plopping her D&G-clad butt on a tree stump—a clever, decorative landscaping tool
that could only be pulled off in a town like this—she tossed the phone back in her bag.
Dragging in a full breath of thick, possibly jasmine-scented air, she decided it really was time for a new persona. A new Elizabeth Brooks.
No.
She let the air out of her lungs as she thought a little about what she really wanted.
Who she really wanted to be.
She’d never liked Elizabeth, though it was what her mother always insisted she go
by. What she needed now was something simpler, something less formal. Something
friendly and inviting.
Beth Brooks? Liz Brooks?
Neither seemed to fit.
Her father had called her Liza when she was a little girl, with a drawn-out accent on the “i”. Until her mother had browbeat him into using her full name.
Hmm. Liza Brooks… She liked it.