The Marriage Season. Linda Miller Lael

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The Marriage Season - Linda Miller Lael

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usually there. After my mother died, she moved in and took over, sort of like a certified dictator at large. She’s terrifyingly efficient.”

      Bex looked startled, and he didn’t blame her. Her gold-green eyes widened.

      He pointed at the house. It was far away but there was a Jeep parked near the airstrip to get back and forth. “There’ll be a lot more decorating choices around here than in Mustang Creek. The builder suggested I go to a more cosmopolitan area to pick out what I wanted and have it shipped. I’m hoping this will be a forever house for me, so why skimp at this point, right?”

      “Right,” she said, but the word wasn’t loaded with enthusiasm. She was gorgeous in a slim skirt and a sweater that set off her eyes, and he knew his family would embrace the idea that he might be seeing someone. Meeting them so early on, though—that was asking a little much. He figured the run together didn’t count, so this was their first date.

      The house was like a minicastle minus the turrets. Most people found his father’s place a bit...overwhelming. Should he have given her more warning, some kind of initiation, so to speak? Well, too late now. He’d better get this out of the way. He opened the Jeep passenger door in what could only be described as a gentlemanly fashion and, despite her tight skirt, she climbed in with matching grace. That shouldn’t surprise him; she was an athlete, after all.

      The more he told himself he didn’t have the time or inclination to date Becca Stuart, the more he was convinced he was going to override the system and do it, anyway. Ben and Adam liked her, and that really counted.

      Then there was the undeniable sexual attraction. Tate was drawn to Bex on a very basic level—other interests aside. That had never been in dispute, not from the moment they met.

      Not exactly what he needed at this point in his life, perhaps, but things didn’t always go as predicted. Or as planned.

      Aunt Gina was home. She’d heard the plane, so there was no going back. She was already on the front porch, waving hello, when he pulled up in the Jeep; she hesitated briefly when she saw that he wasn’t alone.

      “Hello.” Tate didn’t even turn off the ignition, but jumped out, returned the offered hug and stepped back. “We aren’t staying. We’re on a shopping trip, so I’m taking the Jeep into town, then we’ll fly back to Mustang Creek from here. This is Bex Stuart, by the way.”

      “Pleased to meet you,” Bex said, looking—and sounding—a little shy.

      “And you, as well. Surely you can stay for dinner.” His aunt, petite and dark-haired, was eyeing Bex with a speculative gaze, her size no indication of her force of will, which could blast the top off a mountain. He sensed approval on the appearance front, but there was plenty in Bex’s appearance to approve of—all of it, in fact.

      Maybe he was just being hopeful that they’d get along.

      He sidestepped the dinner invitation. “Some other time when I can give you advance notice,” he told his aunt gently. “We’ll grab a bite in town. Bex has had a long day, so we need to make it an early night.”

      For once, Gina let it go. “Your father’s on a conference call at the moment, but at least stop in and say hello on your way back.”

      A clear order.

      “Will do,” he agreed hastily, all but saluting.

      As he and Bex drove away, turning onto a street that was lined with discreet driveways and manicured lawns, Bex asked him, “Is every date with you this interesting?”

      “Wait until you get to the exciting part where we look at kitchen countertops and built-in ovens,” he said drily.

      “This is quite the neighborhood.” She gestured at the massive rooflines they could glimpse in the distance, behind the professionally landscaped grounds.

      “Not what you’d call homey, is it?”

      “It’s impressive, anyway. May I ask in general terms what your father does for a living? Oil wells? Gold mines? Diamonds?”

      At her joking tone, he shot her a sidelong glance. “Nothing so glamorous. He owns a manufacturing company that makes engine parts for almost every major car company in the world. I’m sure the conference call is with Japan or Germany or someplace like that. He does a lot of business in the US, but there’s a high demand overseas, as well.”

      “Rich kid, huh?”

      He had been. Part of that had been good, part of it not so good. “I’ve made my own way. Other than my college tuition—and I had an athletic scholarship, so I essentially paid for some of the tuition myself—Dad doesn’t give me a dime, and I don’t ask for anything. Never have. I earned the money to pay for the land and the new house by working some long hours and making a few decent investments. I thought about asking my father if he wanted to invest in the breeding venture, but he’s still ticked off at me because I turned down a corporate pilot’s job arranged by a friend of his. I would’ve been away from home a lot, sometimes for weeks at a time, so I said no. Dad’s great, don’t get me wrong, but growing up, I barely saw him, he worked so much. I want to raise my children.”

      “You do seem emphatic about it.”

      He was. Tate couldn’t have explained why he was telling her so much, but he’d been dated for his trust fund before, although he already knew Bex wasn’t the type to marry for money. His wife, Sandra, had felt differently, though, so he wanted to be clear on that before he entered into any potential relationship. Making that mistake once was definitely once too often.

      He continued, his voice even. “The plane is a compromise. I don’t mind being able to fly now and then, because if I didn’t love it, I wouldn’t have done it in the first place. And I don’t mind letting the boys have time with their great-aunt when I take my father here or there on short business trips. But Mustang Creek is the kind of place I wish I’d grown up.”

      “It’s great,” Bex said. “Hadleigh and Mel and I had a ball as kids, riding our bikes everywhere, eating ice cream in the park, playing Optimist softball... Small-town stuff, but those are good memories.”

      He turned on to Cheyenne’s main thoroughfare, busy with traffic, and headed toward the warehouse store his builder had recommended, saying he often did business with the company. They were reliable and carried quality materials. “Seems to me the three of you are still making them. Good memories, I mean.”

      “That’s true—not that everything’s quite as simple these days.” Bex laughed, her profile serene. “Hadleigh’s the impulsive one, and Melody can be outspoken, not to mention stubborn. I have my faults, too, of course. I can be really competitive, but I’m also the peacemaker in the bunch. If we were all the same, I doubt we’d get along so well.”

      “I’d really like it if Ben, Adam and Josh formed that kind of friendship. They’re young boys, so they’re over-the-top sometimes, but they seem to enjoy being with each other. It’s good for all three of them. My kids are new to town, essentially, and Josh is going through a tough time.”

      “The fishing trip is a wonderful idea.”

      Tate spotted the building and pulled into the lot. “You aren’t the one who’s going to be taking all those minnows off the hook.” He chuckled. “Hey, we’ll have fun. They’ll learn to pee in the woods,

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