and his Grayson Gear manager, Jessica Monroe, had been working on establishing a line of Castletons specifically for the company. But progress was slow. Castleton was an old family business and getting in the door was difficult. Considering his numerous endorsement deals, the challenge with Castleton had only made Grayson more determined. He’d even enlisted his mother’s help. Though she’d been managing his rodeo career since the get-go, she generally left Grayson Gear business to him. Always said she had enough keeping her busy without adding that to her plate. But since she happened to think Castleton was the best bootmaker around, he’d talked her around to it.
“Haven’t worked with any other Realtor?”
His eyes drifted past his boots to land on the curve of Billie’s hip where she sat. The chair was black, making the white of her skirt seem even whiter. Below the hem, her smooth thighs were golden. “No, ma’am. You’re my first.”
He caught a wisp of blush rise in her cheeks and saw her moisten her lips again. He couldn’t help smiling a little. Women often blushed around him, but none quite as charmingly as she.
Blushing or not, she stayed on course. “You’re probably anxious to get on with properties to view, so we can finish up the rest of the details along the way.” She tapped her glass-driven mouse and tiny images filled the screen. “Why don’t you tell me what you’re looking for? You want your forever home? Or something more short-term?”
Until Gerald Robinson came calling, he’d considered Paseo to be his home. “Forever.”
Her smile deepened, as if his answer pleased her. “What kind of home? Single family? Condo? Any particular square footage in mind? Number of bedrooms? Lot size?”
“No condos. Only bedroom I care about is mine.” But logic made him consider. He’d need more bedrooms if his brothers came to visit. Jayden and Ariana didn’t have kids yet, but considering they couldn’t keep their hands off each other, it was only a matter of time before they did. And Nathan and Bianca already had her little boy, EJ. Then there was his mom. He’d need a room for her, or even a guest house that she could call her own. One appealing enough to keep her safely away from Robinson.
“I guess six bedrooms ought to do. A guest house would be a plus.” He banished Gerald Robinson from his thoughts. He was enjoying Billie’s company too much to ruin it thinking about the bastard.
“Any deal breakers? Something that would rule out a property right from the start?”
“No property. I need acreage for my horses and stock. I can always build my own barn, but I’ll need the land first.”
“Would you consider undeveloped land? Build your own house, too?”
“I’m hoping for something that won’t take that long. I’d like this wrapped up before summer’s done.”
She nodded. “Any particular features in the house that you require?”
“Like what?” He saw the same ripe blonde who’d already passed Billie’s office several times make yet another round. Bolder than most, she gave him a direct smile and pressed her hands together over her heart. He automatically grinned a response and she stopped dead in her tracks. At least until an older man with a frown passed her, and she scurried away.
“If you prefer single-story, or must have a wine cellar, fireplace, pool,” Billie was saying. “Things like that.”
“I’m more beer than wine.” He shrugged. “No particular preference. Just want a place I can put away the bedroll.”
Her eyebrows lifted. “Bedroll?”
“Figure of speech,” he said dismissively. Though it wasn’t. He still traveled between rodeos with a bedroll in his truck. He could afford hotels now, but sometimes it was easier to bed down with the horses in the trailer, or under the stars. “I’m on the road a lot. Just need a place to land. And not too close to the city.” He would never be able to replicate the ranch in Paseo, but he could try. “I like my space and my privacy. As for the house, I guess a fireplace for cold days. AC on hot.” He grinned. “Running water and electricity.”
Her smile edged toward impish again. “I’ve always thought they were convenient.”
“’Course, that’s when the fireplace comes in handy...good place to keep warm. ’Specially with the right company.”
Her cheeks pinkened again. “And your budget?”
Did he have one? He supposed he should. He kept his eye on the broad levels, but Deborah kept her finger on all of the finer points. He knew he could walk away from rodeoing tomorrow and all of his resulting endorsements without personally missing the money a speck. Grayson Gear had become far more profitable in the last decade than anything else he did. But he had rodeoing in his blood. It kept Grayson Gear’s name prominent, and as a result, he was able to keep his charitable efforts funded.
Which meant as long as he was physically able to rodeo, he would. Even if the rest of the rodeo world was starting to consider him ancient.
Billie was still looking at him inquiringly. Her hair had slipped free of her enticing ear and she tucked it there once more as she waited.
He felt thirsty all over again.
He tapped the toe of his boot. “Darlin’, when I find the right one, no price’ll be too high.”
Her eyes did flicker at that. Still the model of decorum, though, she looked back at her screen and glided her fingers on her glass pad again.
“Does it get to you, working in a fishbowl like this?” He gestured at the clear, short walls, and the middle-aged redhead who’d been passing Billie’s office with the speed of a snail suddenly picked up her pace.
Billie looked wry. “Everything here takes some getting used to. Particularly knowing the boss is always watching. He has a very strict code of ethics that I guess he wants to ensure we’re all following.”
“What does he expect to catch y’all doing? Stealing cucumbers and water?”
She smiled. “One of these days, I’m sure I won’t even notice all this glass at all. But it is very disconcerting when you first experience it.”
“No kidding.” His working life was fishbowl-ish, too, though it sure hadn’t started out that way. Like a lot of the guys and gals competing in rodeo day in and day out, he’d done so in obscurity until a championship buckle was on his belt, and suddenly he had endorsement offers landing at his feet. “Probably not easy to get used to.”
“No, but it’s like what you’ve done in rodeo. You have a job to do and you get on with it.”
His toe stopped tapping. “You do know who I am.”
“It’s hard not to know who you are. You’ve been on the news a few times this week. And then there are the Grayson Gear billboards around town.” She smiled slightly. “Despite the impression of our local lookey-loos, you’re not the first celebrity who’s chosen to work with Austin Elite. All I care about is finding a perfect property for you, Mr. Smith.” She waited a beat. “But if you prefer a more experienced agent—perhaps Elena. She’s the blonde who has traipsed by a dozen times and she’d be entirely—”
“God,
