three years older and male, he’d had huge advantages over her back at Red Rock Public Elementary. For one thing he’d easily been the best-looking and the most popular kid in school. He’d been brash and fearless and recklessly full of himself, always besting the teachers and getting away with it. Just the kind of smart-mouthed boy to make an impression on a shy tongue-tied girl.
Back then his family had been richer than hers. In high school he’d been a football star and had dated the prettiest cheerleaders. Jane had been poor and shy and a bookish, straight-A student. When she was mentioned, people only seemed to talk about her birth and her breasts, so naturally she hadn’t wanted to call attention to herself.
He’d been a natural-born show-off. He still was. Then there was that incredible smile and that deep laugh that could melt her insides.
Was the arrogant, macho, Neanderthal going to be her nemesis all her life? Why couldn’t she just forget him? Why did the thought of him sneaking up on her, and taking those sexy pictures of her when she’d been fifteen and then exhibiting them in the locker room to humiliate her still torment her dreams?
That was back in high school, for Pete’s sake. He’d thought it was a joke.
A cruel joke that had crushed her.
She’d deliberately gone out of state to college. To Colorado, even though she’d hated the mountains and cold weather. He’d moved to L.A. for a while, so she’d gone East. Then her daddy had hit the gusher that made the Snows rich. There was nothing like oil money to improve one’s status—at least in Texas.
Then last year her mother had become ill, and Jane had decided to move home. Ryan Fortune, the owner of Fortune TX, Ltd., had wooed Matt back to Red Rock to work for him.
Suddenly when she least wanted it to, Matt’s image sprang full-blown in her mind, causing her to shudder. At thirty-five, he was lethally tall, dark and cliché gorgeous. He had a hard jaw and a permanent tan. He was powerful and sexy, his body hard and lean. Except for his loud ties, he knew how to dress. He had heavy black hair and compelling, green eyes. Lately those eyes seemed to stare deep inside her and make her too conscious of him. He laughed a lot, too.
She licked her lips as she remembered his beautifully sculpted mouth. His mouth was to die for.
Don’t ever, ever think about his mouth.
She’d thought about his mouth more than she should’ve—ever since he’d pulled her against his muscular body and kissed her under the mistletoe at a family gathering last Christmas. Every time she thought about those gentle kisses and how she’d instantly melted and become breathless in the sweet fire, a little lightning bolt would slither through her and make her feel as if all the air had gone out of her tummy.
Other people had thought about the kiss, too—mainly her mother, who wasn’t about to forget it. As a result, the townspeople gave Jane sly glances anytime Matt’s name was mentioned, just as they had after the discovery of those sexy pictures in the locker room.
Matt’s parents and hers, who ran in the same circles now, thought bygones should be bygones. Her mother kept telling her that the pictures were nothing more than a boyhood prank.
“He was a photographer. He had a natural interest in the opposite sex. You shouldn’t have gone braless in that T-shirt and let your sister spray you with the hose.”
Right. Blame the victim. “We were on our own property tanning our legs, Mom! It got hot.”
“Your father pulled a few pranks to get my attention in our younger days. Matt’s different now, and so are you. I think he likes you…or he would…if you’d let him.”
Jane wished her mother would mind her own business.
One might as well wish for rattlesnakes to become extinct in the Texas hill country.
When the printer stopped spitting out pages, Jane arose and did a few stretches and told herself she simply had to quit thinking about him. Willing herself to concentrate on her presentation, she opened the curtains and stared out at her backyard just in time to see a brand-new Texas sun peeping over the cedar fence. A lone mourning dove cooed as the live oak trees turned red.
Pretending not to hear the taunting coos of the dove, Dennis, her cat, ambled lazily up to the glass door and gave Jane the look. Thank goodness he didn’t have a mouse or a lizard this morning. Jane hated it when he killed things. She let him in. After a brief appreciative swish of her legs with the tip of his tail, Dennis headed straight to his bowl in the kitchen.
She gave the backyard a final wistful glance. Difficult as it was facing her past here, not for anything would she live in the city. Yes, she had to drive twenty miles from Red Rock into San Antonio on a daily basis, and yes, the traffic on the interstate seemed to get worse every day, and especially since the NAFTA treaty.
When she sat back down at her desk again, she lifted a folder concerning the fund-raiser she’d volunteered to chair that would raise money to benefit after-school day care for needy children. She checked over her to-do list and was pleased to find everything in order.
At least Harper had not volunteered for the project as she’d feared, so she didn’t have to deal with him at the booth she was setting up for the silent auction Wednesday night at the local high school’s baseball game. Although fund-raisers weren’t his thing usually, she’d thought he might volunteer just to tip the scales in his favor about the upcoming promotion. He was the last person she wanted at the event when she auctioned her cooking services.
Jane glanced at her watch. Her Honda was in the shop for routine maintenance, and her mother, who had errands in the city, had talked her out of renting a car and had promised to drive her to work today. Since her mother, who was an artist and a fortune-teller, could be forgetful, she was about to call her and remind her, when the phone suddenly rang.
“Happy birthday,” her younger sister, Mindy, chirped the instant she answered. Mindy was the wild sister, the loud sister.
Jane pulled the pencil out of her hair. “I forgot. I can’t believe I forgot my own birthday.”
“You work too hard.”
“Thirty-two,” Jane said a little sadly. “I’m old. Maybe I wanted to forget.”
“Age is a state of mind.”
“That’s easy for you to say. You’re not thirty yet. You know, I can’t remember when I last went out on a date.”
“Because you turn everybody down.”
“Maybe because the right man doesn’t ask.”
Mindy hesitated. “Hey, Mom just called.”
“Did she remember she’s picking me up?”
“Yes. But that’s not why…I mean…I thought I’d better warn you. She’s on one of her tears.”
“Oh, dear. What’s she up to now?”
“Have you seen the paper yet?”
“Mindy, I have a very important presentation this afternoon. I’d—”
“Helen Geary called Mom first thing as soon as she saw it. She was very upset about it.”
Not
