reports?”
“Because of how you look.”
The man saw too much.
“People assume a lot of things about me based on the way I look.” She joked, “I guess it’s a good thing I’m not blonde. I’d have a whole slew of assumptions made about my intelligence based on the color of my hair.”
Win frowned. “Is that why you left Texas? Were too many people judging you based on your looks?”
His insight startled her and she didn’t answer immediately. How much did she want to say? “You could say that,” she hedged.
“I’d rather hear what you have to say about it.”
“I don’t like revisiting my past.”
“Okay.”
His easy agreement should have set her mind at rest, but she had the distinct impression that he was just biding his time. She was almost certain the subject wasn’t closed as far as Win Garrison was concerned.
Looking for something besides herself to discuss, she said, “Tell me more about your sister.”
His expression softened. “She’s five years younger than me. She and Mark have got a couple of real cute kids.”
“Where are your parents?”
His fingers gripped the steering wheel a little tighter. “I don’t know where our dads are. Mom moved after each divorce and we lost touch. Neither of them were big on visitation rights.”
“And your mom?” she asked.
“She died in a plane crash twelve years ago.”
“Who raised your sister?”
“I did.” He spoke with no inflection in his voice.
“That must have been really hard, taking on the responsibility to raise a teenage sister and losing your mom at the same time.”
“Raising Leah was nothing new. Mom was too busy getting married and divorced to pay much attention to either of us. Leah was my responsibility from the day Mom brought her home from the hospital.” He smiled ruefully. “I still get tied up in knots every time she cries.”
His admission touched something deep inside Carlene. It was so far from something she would have expected him to say. “Divorce is incredibly traumatic for children. I can’t imagine what it must have been like for you to go through two of them.”
“Four.”
She stared at his profile. “Your mom was married four times?”
“Five. She was divorced four times. I guess modern pop psychologists would say she had a problem with commitment.”
“What happened to her fifth husband?” Carlene knew she was being unforgivably inquisitive, but she couldn’t seem to help herself.
“Hank Garrison died in the plane crash with my mom.”
“You use your stepfather’s name. Did he adopt you?”
Win gave a harsh, bitter laugh. “Nothing so formal. Every time Mom remarried, she insisted Leah and I take her husband’s name. I had more last names growing up than pets.”
“But you stuck with Garrison.”
“Yeah.” His terse answer didn’t invite further comment.
She laid her hand on his arm. “I’m sorry.”
He spared her a brief, cold glance as he pulled into a parking spot in front of the grocery store. “Save your pity. I survived.”
She yanked her hand back, feeling chastised. She’d reserve her sympathy for someone who needed it, someone who had a little softness left in him. She just wished her heart didn’t constrict every time she thought of Win’s childhood. At least she understood the aversion to marriage he’d expressed at their first meeting. The man had a reason for distrusting the institution.
Win watched Carlene walk across the grocery store parking lot and couldn’t help admiring the sway of her hips in her snug-fitting denim jeans. She looked back when she reached the front door, and waved him on impatiently. He sighed and obeyed her imperious little wave.
Pulling onto the main road, he mulled over the conversation they’d had in the car.
He didn’t like talking about his mother, but he’d hoped that if he opened up to Carlene a little about his past, she’d be willing to do the same with hers. His was an open book anyway. Anything she wanted to know she could find out from one of Sunshine Spring’s long time residents.
He took her curiosity as a good sign. Women wanted to know about the men they were interested in. Carlene was definitely interested in him, but she’d given a lot of mixed signals. Something was holding her back.
He had a feeling that something had happened to Carlene in Texas that left her skittish as an untried filly. He figured it was his job to help her get over her past and move on. Because he wanted her warm and willing.
CHAPTER THREE
THE next morning, Win came into the kitchen to ask Carlene a question and stopped dead in his tracks. She was bent over pulling something out of one of the low cupboards. She had the sweetest little behind he’d seen in a very long time. Hell, maybe ever. And it was positioned up in the air in a position guaranteed to turn him hard as a rock.
He took a minute just to appreciate the view.
Her jeans weren’t exactly tight but they couldn’t hide the sweet curve of her cheeks. He’d noticed she liked to wear her clothes loose and wondered why. Not that he minded. He didn’t want the hands getting any randy ideas and he had a suspicion that Lonny already had. So far, though, the boy had done nothing overt. He just watched Carlene with hungry, hot eyes and Win didn’t like it.
Along with his own randy thoughts toward the sexy little lady, Win had developed a whole passel full of possessive feelings. The only other woman he felt this protective toward was his sister, Leah, but he damn sure didn’t want to see her naked. Now, Carlene was another story. He figured once he got her into his bed, he wasn’t going to let her out for a good long while.
Thinking about what he planned to spend that time doing sent his temperature spiking. If he wasn’t careful, he was going to fantasize himself right into a state of unrequited lust and, as much as he wanted Carlene, he had a horse ranch and training stables to run.
“You find what you’re looking for yet?” he asked by way of saying hello.
A muffled scream came from inside the cupboard and she jumped. Her head must have hit something because he heard a loud thump followed by a groan. Shimmying backward, she got herself out of the cupboard and turned to face him.
Her glare was as hot as his loins. “You startled me.” She made it sound as if she’d just accused him of horse stealing.
“You didn’t hear me
