Sweet Texas Fire (17 page)

Gavin and Grayson had been no help when he’d shown them the box at lunch. Neither one had recognized it, saying they couldn’t recall seeing it in their mom’s bedroom. Until he checked to see if the key opened the box, the mystery would remain.

“Are you okay?” Charlotte asked.

He pulled her into a one-arm hug and kissed the top of her head. “Yeah, just tired.”

“That box is still bothering you, isn’t it? Why don’t you go get the key? Putting it off isn’t going to make the concern go away. At least after opening it, you’ll have some sort of an answer.”

“I suppose you’re right.”

She tapped him lightly on the chest. “Now you’re getting the hang of married life.”

He looked at her quizzically. “What do you mean by that?”

“Well, it’s simple, really. Your wife is always right. You keep remembering that, we’ll have smooth sailing in our marriage.”

Gage laughed, easing some of the tension. “Well, we’ll just see if that’s true.”

A tug on his arm reminded him that he still had hold of Oil Slick. Bending down, he released the cat from her leash and she darted off around the apartment.

“You know, sometimes I wonder if being an animal isn’t the way to go,” he mused.

“Why do you say that?”

“Well, your biggest concern is usually when you’re going to be fed. As a cat or even a dog, you get to sleep or play all day. You get endless cuddles, and someone is always cleaning up after you. You never have to worry about where your next paycheck is going to come from. Or whether or not you’ll lose your house. Life can be pretty stress-free being a pet.”

“I suppose that’s true.” Then she looked at him. “Unless, of course, you live in a house where, when you get a little older, the novelty of having a new puppy or kitten wears off and you start to get ignored. Like everything in this lottery we call life, you can draw the good numbers or you can draw the really shitty numbers. You’ve just got to make the most of the numbers you’re given.”

That was true. Some of the kids he’d seen while working on a rig off the coast of Brazil fit that philosophy. When he’d gotten some time to go into the nearby town, he’d been shocked at the way some people lived. But one thing remained with him. No matter what their living conditions, the kids, even with their dirty T-shirts and shorts, were so happy with their lot in life. They thought they’d hit the jackpot. It was only him who had found it surprising they could be so happy.

And here he was, a grown man, getting freaked out by a little box.

“You’re right. I’m going to get the key.”

Charlotte kissed him on the cheek. “I’ll see what I can find to make for dinner.”

He watched her walk away toward the kitchen, his body buzzing with awareness from her brief kiss. They hadn’t really shared many hot kisses, even though he and his body were aching to take their relationship to the next level. He had to control the urge to follow her, pull her back in his arms, and kiss her until the next logical step was to find themselves tangled up in his sheets.

Gage shook his head, trying to rid himself of the erotic images. He walked into his bedroom and went over to his dresser to retrieve the key from the small top drawer.

The cold metal warmed in his hand. He lifted it up to the light and studied its shape. The more he looked, the more confident he felt that the key would fit the box.

Closing his fingers around it, he strode out of his room and back to the living room, where the box still sat on the middle of the coffee table. Two glasses of wine and a platter with some Guac Olé guacamole and corn chips sat innocently next to it.

Charlotte returned to the room. “You have the key?”

He held out his hand and opened his clenched fingers.

She nodded and sat on the couch, waiting for him to join her. With slow, measured steps, he walked to the couch and sat down. He put the key on the table in front of the box.

“It’s going to fit,” he murmured.

With a rustle of fabric Charlotte moved to align herself against his side, her hand sliding onto his thigh. Without thinking, he placed his own hand over hers.

“You ready?”

“I think so.” He lifted their hands and pressed his lips into the fleshy part of her palm. He then reached over and grabbed both the key and the box, placing the items on his lap. With Charlotte sitting close to him, lending him her strength, he knew he could face whatever the contents in the box were.

“Here goes.”

Gage pushed the key into the lock. It slid in easily. He felt Charlotte’s breath tickle his cheek. With a twist of his wrist, the key turned and the lock disengaged.

“It worked,” she whispered.

For a moment he didn’t move. Then he started to laugh at the ridiculousness of the whole thing.

“What so funny?” she asked.

“This. Us. Everything. It hit me the second I released the lock. I’m making a soap-opera drama out of opening a lock. If this were being recorded for a show, I’d be in the running for an Emmy.”

Charlotte giggled beside him. “We are being rather melodramatic. Just open the damn lid, then we can eat.”

He did as she suggested. He looked into the box. Well, great, it was just another pile of letters. Probably as meaningless as the letters and photos Gavin had found in the safe-deposit box. He lifted them out and replaced the box onto the table.

“Okay, so this isn’t what I was expecting.”

Charlotte reached out and took the top one. “I wonder who they belong to. There’s no address or name on the front or the back of the envelopes.”

“I’ve no idea.” On a whim he picked up the box again and pressed the base.

“Are you looking for a false bottom or something?”

“Yes, there isn’t one.” Instead of putting the box back on the table, he laid it at his feet so he could have room to spread the letters out on the table. What was the significance of the letters, and were they part of the clue to his father’s note to him?

Charlotte put the letter she held back onto the pile. “Are you going to open them?”

That was the sixty-four-thousand-dollar question. He could be invading someone’s privacy. Yet they had been found in the house on the land that once belonged to his father and that now belonged to Charlotte.

“You should probably open them,” he said finally.

“Why?”

“Because they were found on your property. Essentially the box and the contents belong to you.”

“But you’re the one who owns the key that unlocks the box. And really, Cowboy, you need to read them, so quit being a big girl’s blouse and start reading.”

A buzzer sounded in the distance and Charlotte stood up. “That will be dinner. Take the box into the dining room and you can read them while you eat.”

“Okay,” he said.

Once in the dining room, he took Charlotte’s advice to just read the letters. He grabbed the top letter, and a very faint fragrance tickled his nose, like the paper had been sprayed with perfume before it had been sent.

“What does it say?” she asked as she placed a steaming plate of pasta in a creamy sauce next to him.

“It looks like it’s a love letter.” He held it out to her.

He took a mouthful of the pasta while he watched Charlotte scan the letter. A sweet smile and a dreamy expression broke out over her face.

“It sure does, and it’s almost like this letter was written after a first date.”

Gage nodded and kept shoveling the food into his mouth. He finished off his dinner quickly and then extracted the next letter from its envelope. No scent drifted up from this one, and he immediately recognized the scrawl.

“This one’s from Dad.”

“What does it say?”

Gage began to read out loud.

My darling, sweet girl,

“Oh, Gage, this is beautiful.”

Huh? Were women automatically programmed at birth to think love letters were so fascinating? There didn’t seem to be anything special about the two notes he’d just read. “I’m afraid I don’t follow you.”

She reached across the table and touched his hand. “Don’t you see? It’s the start of your parents’ romance. It sounds like love at first sight. Do you know how special that is? Nothing could be more romantic than that.”

The dreamy expression came back over Charlotte’s face, mixed this time with a little wistfulness.

“Do you believe in love at first sight?” he asked.

“I don’t know. Maybe. I know my parents do. Do you?”

“I don’t think so. Besides, we don’t know how long it was between when my parents first met until their first date. It could’ve been a week or a month before Dad summoned up the courage to ask Mom out. If you noticed, the letters aren’t dated.”

The lightness in her face died a little, and he felt like a jerk for extinguishing that flame of romance within her.

She stood and collected the plates. “I’m going to take these through to the kitchen, and then I think I might go to bed. I’m a little tired.”

She was up and out of the dining room before he could catch his breath. His hand hovered over another letter. He didn’t pick it up. What was the point? The key he’d been left with, the key that supposedly led to happiness, led instead to a box of letters—and heartache. His father had never married after their mom had died. Had Jack Cooper been happy raising three boys by himself? Or had he been heartbroken that the woman he’d loved had been taken from him?

Gage put the useless letters back in the box. He wasn’t going to get his answer from reading them. And he was sure they weren’t going to answer his question of why the land now belonged to Charlotte and not him.

“Dad, seriously, what are you trying to tell me? What am I supposed to do with these letters?”

Charlotte rolled over again, trying to get comfortable. The bed felt too big. Could one night spent sleeping in Gage’s arms make it impossible for her to sleep alone? She’d been sleeping alone for most of her life. Even when she’d been in a semi-serious relationship, she’d been able to sleep apart from the person. Why was tonight so much harder to fall asleep?

Throwing the covers off in disgust, she got up and padded out to the kitchen. She pulled open the fridge and grabbed the carton of milk. She filled a glass and wandered over to the window. She opened the blinds a little to look out over the city. At this time of night she expected the streets to be empty, but there were still quite a few cars driving around.

Gage’s reflection joined hers in the glass.

“Can’t you sleep either?”

“It would seem that way,” she responded tartly.

A light chuckle. “Yeah, that was kind of a dumb question.”

Charlotte drained the rest of the milk before turning to face him. “So, why can’t you sleep?”

He shrugged his shoulders. He was shirtless and he was breathtaking. The hard labor working on the rigs had defined his abs so that he had a nice six-pack. And no doubt regular gym work maintained the look. She gripped the glass a little tighter. What she wanted to do was reach out and touch him.

“I don’t know. Just a lot on my mind, I guess.”

She walked over to the sink, rinsed the glass, and placed it on the counter. “Did you read any more letters?”

“No. I didn’t see much point. I’m not sure I want to read too much about my parents’ romance. I might find out things I won’t be able to forget. And I don’t think they’re going to give me the answers I want.”

She opened her mouth and then closed it again. It wasn’t her business what he decided to do with the letters. They looked at each other for endless minutes. Her body prickled with desire to kiss away the lines of disappointment on his face. If she didn’t get out of here fast, she’d find herself giving in to the urge. Sleeping with Gage would change the boundaries of their relationship. She’d been the one to say the marriage was a business arrangement only, although it was getting harder and harder to keep her hands off her husband.

Charlotte pushed off the edge of the counter. It was time to get out of the kitchen, because the heat was becoming intense. “Well, I think I might try to see if I can get some sleep. It’s going to be a long day tomorrow at work if I don’t.”

She brushed past Gage, averting her eyes from having one last look at his impressive chest. She hadn’t gone an inch past him when his hand shot out and gripped her arm. Before she had time to think, she found herself up against that hard chest.

She looked up at him, ready to ask what he was doing, when his lips crashed down on hers. As his lips roved over hers, demanding a response, she gave it to him by opening her mouth. She wrapped her arms around his neck, her fingers playing with the thick strands of his hair.

Her neck fell back as he nipped his way from her lips to her jaw to the hollow of her collarbone. He scooped her up in his arms and carried her to his room, where he laid her on the bed before joining her.

“We shouldn’t be doing this, Gage,” she whispered. “It will only complicate things.”

“It’s too late, things are already complicated. This is what we should’ve done on our wedding night. This is as inevitable as breathing. And it’s so simple, Red. I want you, and I think you want me, too.”

She closed her eyes as his hand traced a line down her body, between her breasts, stopping just above the small sleep shorts she was wearing. His touch was gentle and perfect. She grabbed his hand and opened her eyes to look at him. “Yes. Everything you said is true. I want this. I want you.”

He groaned and gathered her close, kissing her once again. Her hands roamed over his back, his muscles contracting beneath her fingertips, his skin so warm she was sure she was about to burst into flames.