Texas Hustle (32 page)

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Authors: Cynthia D'Alba

Tags: #D’Alba, #Romance, #stalker, #Texas, #older heroine, #younger hero, #Western

BOOK: Texas Hustle
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He checked into the airport Hilton more than a little disappointed. He’d had higher hopes for this trip. He hadn’t expected to find Porchia living in a mansion. Nor had he expected to crash her family’s dinner party.

Once he’d changed his return flight to tomorrow, he stripped to his boxers and ordered a bucket of beer from room service. The knock on his door came sooner than he’d expected. Throwing on a robe, he opened the door to let the hotel staff in with his beer.

But it wasn’t the hotel staff.

Porchia stood in the hallway, her hair hanging limply around her face. “Can I come in?”

He hesitated and then stepped back. She entered and shut the door.

Darren turned and walked back to where he’d been stretched out on the bed. “What can I do for you, Princess?”

“I’m so sorry for how you were treated. It was unforgivable.”

He gestured to the only chair in the room. “Sit.”

She did.

“I came to Atlanta to find Porchia Summers. I needed to see her. I needed to tell her that I love her.”

“Oh, Darren—”

He held up his hand. “I didn’t find her. I found Katherine Randolph. I don’t know Katherine. I don’t think I want to know Katherine. What I know for sure is that I’m not in love with Katherine. Porchia, yes. Katherine, no.”

“I’m still the same person.”

“No, you’re not. Porchia Summers would have never let a man speak to her like you did that jackass Myron. She would never have let dinner guests behave so rudely to another guest without comment. Porchia has a spine. She has respect for herself and others. I respect Porchia. Katherine is a boorish woman who lets others walk on her. I do not like or respect her.”

“But what can I do?” she cried. “I came home to make amends with my parents. This is the only family I have. Without them, I’m alone in the world.”

“You have me. You have my family. We all love Porchia. You would never have been alone. Come home.”

“I don’t know.” She stood and paced. “You’re asking me to give up my parents, to walk away and never see them again.”

“No, I’m not. I would never ask you to do anything like that. But I can’t love Katherine. You are the only one who can decide if you’re Katherine or Porchia. And until you know who you are and what you want, I think it’d be better if we went our separate ways.”

Chapter Twenty-Four

Porchia left the hotel with Darren’s words ringing in her head. Who was she? Was she Porchia Summers, the Texas baker who struggled some months to pay all her bills? Her parents didn’t seem to like that woman very much.

Or was she Katherine Randolph? Daughter of Judge Paul Randolph and his wife? Heiress to the Randolph fortune? Society snob in the making?

She went home and slept on it. In the morning, when she woke, she knew beyond a doubt who she was and what her future held.

Dressing quickly, she raced out early to reach Darren. She had to explain her epiphany. But he was already gone when she arrived. He’d taken the first flight out of Atlanta.

That evening, she had a long talk with her parents. She explained how much she’d missed them over the years. How much she loved them and needed them in her life. Their lifestyle in Atlanta was perfect…for them, but not for her. She hoped with all her heart that they would forgive her, but she had to go back to Texas.

“I’m more Porchia Summers than I am Katherine Randolph,” she explained. “I love my life in Texas. I’m happy there. I have friends. I have to go home.”

Her mother cried.

Her father actually smiled and kissed her cheek. “I suspected as much,” he said. “The young man. He’s your future?”

“I certainly hope so.”

“Then I wish you happiness and love,” he said, shocking her. “Be sure we get invited to the wedding.”

At the mention of wedding, her mother wailed louder. It was all Porchia could do not to roll her eyes.

“Invited? Heck, Father. You’ll be paying for it.”

His laugh was rusty, as though he didn’t use it enough. She hoped he practiced it more.

“I’m going upstairs to pack.” She hugged both of them, her mother clinging on to Porchia for a long time. “I’ll be back,” she told her parents. “Not to stay,” she clarified. “But for visits. And I’ll call. And you’ll call. And you’ll come to visit.” She smiled. “It’s not like here at all.”

In the end, she didn’t fly to Whispering Springs. Instead, as an early Christmas present, her parents bought her a new, and completely too expensive, sport utility vehicle to take back. She thought about saying no, but they sincerely seemed to enjoy giving it to her. Since she’d given her sedan to Mallory after hers had been destroyed in the fire, the gift was received with pleasure.

It took a couple of long days on the road before she pulled into the drive at her home.

Around her, houses blinked with multi-colored Christmas lights, large Christmas decorations and one Santa that opened and closed an empty trailer. It was almost Christmas. She didn’t have time to get all her boxes of decorations out to get her house into the Christmas spirit tonight. But tomorrow? Her house was getting a makeover.

Her house. Man, she liked those words.

Now to go get her man.

She liked those words even better.

Scratch that. She wanted more privacy than they could get at his place with Reno and Magda listening in, so she needed him to come here. She called his cell.

“Hello?” He sounded calm and totally unaffected by her call. And he had to know it was her by the caller ID.

“Hey. It’s me.”

There was a pause before he said, “Is this Porchia or Katherine?”

“Porchia.”

He said nothing.

“I wondered, if you’re not too busy or anything, if you could come over to my house this evening.”

“You’re home?”

“I am.” She started to say she was home to stay, but at the last second she decided she’d wait and see what kind of reaction she got from him. If he totally hated her and wanted nothing to do with her, she’d…well, she didn’t know exactly what she’d do. She crossed her fingers. “Can you come?”

“What time?”

She smiled. “I’ll cook dinner, so whenever you get done.” She glanced at her watch. That’d give her time to get to the store and grab some food, since she was sure there was nothing edible in her kitchen.

“I can be there about seven. That work?”

“Perfect. See you then.”

A trip to the grocery store that should have been twenty minutes tops turned into an hour as people greeted her or hugged her or just stopped her to tell her how much they’d missed her. Most asked if she was going to rebuild the bakery, moaning about how much they longed for her pastries. All the kind words and hugs caught her off-guard. She hadn’t expected this kind of response from the townspeople. She found herself tearing up more than once.

One more stop and she was back home.

She made a roast with potatoes, carrots, green beans and creamed corn. She even had enough time to make fresh yeast rolls.

By six-thirty, she’d showered, dressed in jeans, a soft sweater and a thick pair of socks. She was done, done, done with nylons and high-heel shoes. Her toes thanked her.

When she heard the rumble of his truck in her drive, Porchia’s heart charged up her throat. Whatever happened, she was laying it all on the line.

He knocked at the door, and for the briefest of seconds, she remembered opening the door to Slade and all that had transpired afterward. But that was the past. Darren had been right. She had done nothing wrong, not seventeen years ago and not a month ago.

She opened the door, her gut tugging nervously. He’d never looked better than he did tonight. Dressed in fresh jeans—thanks, Magda—a snap shirt, boots and a leather jacket, he stood with his hat held at waist height. Her eyes ate up the vision.

“Come on in.”

He walked, studying her as though she might turn into a butterfly at any minute. She smiled.

“It’s me. Porchia. Katherine was laid to rest in Atlanta.”

But he still held back affections except to say, “Good. I didn’t like Katherine anyway.”

“Me neither, to tell you the truth. Take off your coat. Dinner is ready. I know you come home ravenous.”

He smiled. “That I do.” He draped his coat over the sofa. “Smells good.”

She deliberately arched an eyebrow. “And it’ll be good too. Can I get you a beer?”

“I’d love one.”

“Great. Grab a chair. I’ll be right back.”

She brought a couple of beers to the table. Not because she wanted a beer with dinner, but more of an overt sign that she’d made her decision.

While they ate, she apologized again for the dinner at her parents’ house. And she told him about her conversation with them, about coming home to Whispering Springs, about wanting to rebuild her life.

He let her talk, nodding in appropriate places, but not asking many questions.

“So,” she finished up. “Once my parents understood my need to come home, they bought me a new SUV as a Christmas present and sent me on my way. I was surprised they took it so well.” She chuckled. “Sort of well. Mother cried and then insisted on buying me the most expensive SUV she could, which was fine with me. I felt so bad about Mallory losing her car because of me, that I gave her mine. And before you tell me the fire wasn’t my fault, I know. But giving her the car made me happy.”

He nodded and smiled. “That was a nice thing to do.”

“Which brings me to why I asked you here.”

Setting his fork and knife across his plate, he studied her. “Okay.”

“I’m here because being in Whispering Springs makes me happy. I want a happy future, and I only know of one way I’ll be happy.”

“And what’s that?”

“To be with you.”

“Are you sure, Porchia? Really sure?”

She stood and walked to where he sat. Then, dropping to one knee, she said, “Will you marry me?”

The stunned expression on his face scared her more than actually saying the words. But then a broad smile crawled onto his lips.

“Do you love me?” he asked.

“With all my heart.”

“And I love you.” He pushed back his chair and pulled her into his lap. “I have missed you so much,” he said and kissed her.

When his lips touched hers, a rain of sparks went off inside her. She loved how he smelled, how he tasted, hell, how he breathed. This was her man.

“Hey,” he said. “Where’s my engagement ring? When a guy asks a girl to marry him, he always presents a ring.”

She laughed. “I got you something better. Hold on.”

She hurried to her bedroom, grabbed the two boxes she’d picked up this afternoon and raced back. She found Darren in the living room sitting on the sofa. She skidded to a stop and sat on the couch beside him.

“Wait. Before you get these, you didn’t answer my question. These are
engagement
presents. I have to have an answer
before
you get them.”

“Well,” he said, “I’ll give you a provisional yes. Now let me see what you got me.” The twinkle in his eye made her smile. Man, she’d missed that twinkle.

She laughed and put the boxes behind her. “A provisional yes?” She forced her mouth into a pout. “Not good enough.”

“Fine. I’ll marry you. Now let me see what you bought.”

She handed over the presents. He ripped the paper off, his eyes growing wide at the Resistol box. “You bought me a Resistol?” He jerked the lid off and lifted a silver-toned, felt cowboy hat from the box. “It’s gorgeous.” He set it on his head. “And a perfect fit. Thank you,” he said. “I love it.”

“One more box.” She set the large, square box on the floor.

He looked at her, took off the hat and set it behind him. “Porchia. You don’t have to buy me anything. I love you. Don’t you know that? I want to marry you. I’d marry you tomorrow if you’d agree. I’ve wanted to marry you since day one of the camping trip. But I knew if I told you that back then, you’d have run for the hills.”

Nodding, she chuckled. “Yeah. I probably would have.”

“Do you believe that I love you?”

She held his face in the palms of her hands. “I know you love me. You faced my family for me. There’s no doubt in my mind I belong here with you.”

Their lips met in a hot kiss full of pent-up desire and years of love.

“Well,” he drawled when he broke the kiss. “Funny you should want to ask me to marry you.” He put his arm around her and pulled her snug against him.

“Yeah? Why’s that?”

He reached into his front pocket and pulled out a black velvet box. “Great minds and all that.” He popped it open and an embarrassingly large diamond winked at her. “I told myself that if you came back, I was never, ever letting you go again. I’ve been miserable without you.”

She looked into his eyes, although hers were a little watery.

“I love you, Porchia. I want to be your husband. I want to be the father of your children. I want to spend the rest of my life loving you.”

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