One Good Cowboy. Catherine Mann
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“You’ve already found the families? You’re making his test too easy,” Johanna said suspiciously. “There must be a catch.”
“No catch. But as for easy?” Mariah laughed softly. “That depends on you two and your ability to act like grownups around each other.”
“Civility during a few interviews,” Johanna echoed. “We can handle that.” Maybe.
“More than during interviews. There’s travel time, as well.”
“Travel?” So there was a catch. She glanced at Stone who was looking too damn hot—and smug—leaning against the fireplace mantel. He simply shrugged, staying tall, dark and silent.
“These families I’ve lined up don’t live around the corner, but the corporate jet should make the journey easier.” Mariah patted her diamond horseshoe necklace. “You should be able to complete the meet and greets in a week.”
Stone stepped forward. “Gran, I can handle our travel arrangements.”
“You can. But you’re not going to. I’m calling the shots on this. My plan. My test,” his grandmother said succinctly.
Stone’s jaw clamped shut, and Johanna could see the lord of the boardroom holding himself back because of his grandmother’s condition.
“A week...” Johanna repeated. A week away from work, a week of more than just crossing paths for a few meet and greets. “Alone together, jetting around the country on the McNair corporate airplane?”
“I don’t expect the two of you to reunite. This truly is about Stone showing me he’s capable of the compassion needed to run a company.” Her hand slid up behind her neck and she unclasped the chain. “But I do hope the two of you can also find some way to reconcile your way back to friendship.”
Understanding settled over Johanna. “You want to be at peace—knowing your dogs are loved and that Stone and I won’t hurt each other again.”
Mariah’s fingers closed around her necklace and whispered, “My grandson’s well-being is important, more so than any company.”
Mariah had found Johanna’s Achilles’ heel. Was it an act from Mariah, to get her way? Heaven knew the woman could be every bit as wily as Stone. But given Mariah’s illness, the woman did deserve peace in every realm of her life.
“Okay,” Johanna agreed simply.
Mariah pressed the necklace into Johanna’s palm. “Good luck, dear.”
Johanna started to protest such an extravagant gift, but one look in Mariah’s eyes showed her how much it meant to her...a woman at the end of her life passing along pieces of herself. The horseshoe was so much more than diamonds. It was a gift of the heart, of family, a symbol of all Johanna wanted for her life.
All that Stone had thrown away without a thought.
She pitied him almost as much as she resented him for costing them the life they could have had together.
Her fist closed around the necklace, and she stood, facing Stone with a steely resolve she’d learned from Mariah. “Pack your bags, Casanova. We have a plane to catch.”
Two
Staring out the office window, Stone listened for the door to click closed as his grandmother and Johanna left, then he sank into the leather desk chair, his shoulders hunched. He couldn’t believe Johanna had actually agreed to a week alone on the road with him.
Heaven or hell?
He’d started to argue with Mariah, but she’d cut out on the conversation, claiming exhaustion. How could he dispute that? If anything, he wanted to wrap her in cotton to protect her even as she made her way to her favorite chaise longue chair up in her sitting room.
The prideful air that had shone in Mariah’s eyes kept him from following her. Not to mention the intuitive sense that she needed to be alone. He understood the feeling, especially right now. He and his grandmother were alike in that, needing privacy and space to lick wounds. A hard sigh racked his body as he tamped down the urge to tear apart the whole office space—books, computers, saddles and framed awards—to rage at a world that would take away his grandmother.
The last thing he wanted to do was leave Fort Worth now and waste even one of her remaining days flying around the country. Even with Johanna.
What exactly was Mariah’s angle in pairing them up on this Mutt Mission of Mercy? Was she making him jump through hoops like one of her trained dogs to see how badly he wanted to run the company, to prove he had a heart? Or was she matchmaking, as Johanna had accused? If so, this wasn’t about the company at all, which should reassure him.
More likely his multitasking, masterminding grandmother was looking to kill two birds with one stone—matchmaking and putting him through the wringer to make him appreciate what he’d inherit when he took the reins of the company.
He just had to get through the next seven days with his former fiancée without rehashing the train wreck of their messy breakup where she’d pointed out all his emotional shortcomings. He couldn’t give Johanna what she’d wanted from him—a white picket fence family life. He wasn’t wired that way. He truly was aptly named. He might have overcome the rough start in life, born with an addiction, spending most of his first ten years catching up on developmental delays—but some betrayals left scars so thick and deep he might as well be made of stone.
He understood full well his grandmother’s concerns about him were true, even if he disagreed about the company needing a soft-hearted marshmallow at the helm. Although God knew he would do anything to give his grandmother peace, whatever her motivation for this doggy assignment. The business was all he would have left of her and he didn’t intend to throw that away because hanging out with Johanna opened him up to a second round of falling short. His hand fisted on the chair’s armrests as he stared out at the rolling fields filled with vacationers riding into the woods.
No, he didn’t expect a magical fix-it with the only woman he’d ever considered marrying. But he needed closure. Because he couldn’t stop thinking about her. And he was growing weary of her avoiding him.
Truth be told, he would give his right arm for the chance to sleep with Johanna again. And again. And most certainly again, because she ruled his thoughts until he hadn’t been able to touch another woman since their breakup seven months ago. That was a damn long time to go without.
The life of a monk didn’t suit him. Frustration pumped through him, making him ache to punch a wall. He dragged in breaths of air and forced his fists to unfurl along the arms of the chair.
A hand rested lightly on his shoulder.
Stone jolted and pivoted around fast. “Johanna? You’ve been there the whole time?”
He’d assumed she’d left with his grandmother.
“I started to tell you, but you seemed...lost