to each other if they weren’t on opposing sides, Matt added, “Dad wants what he wants when he wants it.”
Brushing past him, Jen glided along the length of the table, her hips swaying seductively beneath her sundress. She tossed him a look. “Seems the same could be said of you,” she noted drily.
Matt braced his hands on the ornate scrolling across the top of a mahogany chair, trying not to be fascinated by her. “I know enough to realize when I need to slow down. And reevaluate.” Like right now.
Jen eyed the huge crystal chandelier, then stiffened her spine and compressed her lips. “Your father doesn’t seem likely to do either at the moment.”
Something in the speculative way she was studying him, prompted Matt to be completely forthright, too. “Probably not,” he said, with as much indifference as he could muster. “Which is why you need to think long and hard about just what it is Dad is asking you to do.”
Jen slanted him a pitying look and folded her arms again, which plumped up her breasts. “What is it about Emmett’s offer that you think I can’t handle?”
Lazily, he appraised her pretty dress and sandals. Everything about her was feminine and enticing, from her dainty feet and stunning legs to her slender waist and round, perfect breasts. Nothing about her said ranch-ready. “I think the better question is what part of living out in the wilds of rural Texas could you handle?” he drawled.
She scowled. “Hey. Just because I grew up in the city—”
“And live in Austin now, where the population is a million plus.”
Appearing irritated, she shrugged. “So?”
“Laramie County is thirty-five square miles with one small town and wide-open spaces—”
“Spaces,” Jen interrupted, “peppered with ranches and horses and cattle, and even, from what I saw on my way over here, the occasional donkeys, sheep and alpacas.”
No doubt this area of West Texas had its share of rugged individualists, Matt acknowledged silently. And like it or not, her work as a sculptress put her in that category, too.
The problem, he thought, as he let his gaze roam her once again, was that Jen was incredibly feminine and unconsciously sexy in a way that drove men wild. Every glance, every movement of her hands, every touch of her fingers, was innately artistic, unbearably gentle and sensual.
Matt had noticed this on sight. And that was something they couldn’t have. Not when it made him continually wonder how that overt sensuality would manifest in lovemaking.
Oblivious to the direction of his thoughts, she argued, “Being out here in the Texas countryside is going to help, not hurt, my art.”
He would concede to that. “Even so…the ranch can be a lonely place.” Which made it all too easy to establish intimacy with someone.
His observation earned him nothing but a smile. “Lucky for me, I work best when I’m not interrupted. Although all the bronzes will have to be finished back in Austin, where the foundry and my studio are located.”
Sounded good, to have her back in central Texas where she belonged. Especially since he couldn’t talk his dad out of this.
Helpfully, Matt suggested, “Why not just negotiate that it all be done there—except the initial consultation?”
“Wow,” Jen taunted softly. “You genuinely want me off the Triple B.”
Her voice seemed to ripple over him like velvet. He folded his arms defensively. No need to mince words now. “I think it would be best for everyone,” he stated flatly.
“In your view,” she corrected without hesitation. “Not Emmett’s. Or mine.”
With effort, Matt kept his distance. “You’re really planning to accept my dad’s offer and stay here?”
“I really am.” Jen sashayed out of the dining room and into the corridor that led past the pantry to the kitchen. “So cowboy up, fella.” She tossed the words over her shoulder. “And get used to it.”
* * *
“JEN,” CELIA WAILED, when told of the plan in a conference call one hour later. “This is such a bad idea.”
“I agree,” Cy added vehemently.
“Driving all the way out there in that wreck of a van was bad enough,” Celia fretted, “but to stay for the next however many months…”
Jen was used to holding the hands of very wealthy, incredibly egotistical clients who were seeking to immortalize themselves for posterity. This, she told herself firmly, would be no different. Even if there was a handsome, sexy, difficult son on the premises. She could handle Matt. She’d just avoid him.
She ran her palm over the silk fabric of the comforter on her bed. “Actually, I’m hoping it will just be for one month.”
“The time it will take you to complete the first statue,” Celia affirmed.
Jen got up and walked to the guest-room window, overlooking the courtyard. “I think once Emmett understands my process and sees the quality of my work, he’ll be amenable to granting me whatever I need to finish.” Which was an environment far, far away from his maddeningly handsome, wickedly provoking son.
“And if he doesn’t? If he plays the rich man card and says you have to stay and do everything his way,” Celia countered, her voice rising with concern. “Then what? It’s obvious father and son have issues. The last thing you need is to put yourself in a situation where you try to fix other people’s problems—again.”
Jen wasn’t going to do that. Once had been more than enough. “Look, it’s obvious Matt and his dad don’t see eye to eye on hiring me to commemorate Emmett’s life. But that’s for the two of them to sort out. I’m concerned about the business.” Not to mention the fact that Cy and Celia were about to have a baby, and Jen’s van needed substantial repair. “The profit from this job will allow me to expand into the next storefront, showcase other artists and hire another employee.” Which meant all their schedules would be a lot more flexible.
“Assuming it goes as planned,” Cy groused, reminding Jen that he and Celia had a financial stake in this.
“It will,” she promised. “You’ll see.” And when it did, the rent for the gallery would be paid for an entire year, and they wouldn’t be living paycheck to paycheck any longer.
She looked up to see Matt looming in the guest room’s open doorway, a thick accordion file in hand.
She turned away to finish her conversation. “In the meantime, I’m emailing you a list of things I’ll need overnighted to me….”
After Cy and Celia promised they would get right on it, Jen ended the call and put her phone back in her bag.
“Obviously, you have been invited to stay for dinner, regardless of your decision about the offer my father made.”
Jen wondered what Matt thought could have possibly changed in the last fifteen minutes, since she had already told Emmett her decision and
