Texas Rose Forever (Texas Rose Ranch #1) (8 page)

He had a feeling that her quest for knowledge was just as voracious as his. “She bought Edith five new dresses.” He nodded. “Mel knew when to admit defeat.”

“I wonder if she ever saw the humor in the situation?”

He’d often wondered that himself. “She must have because she put up with it. Just think how boring Mel’s life would have been without Edith.”

Now that he thought about it, his life could use a little Edith.

“Is dinner ready?” CanDee glanced back at the stove. “It smells really good.”

“It’s ready.” He uncrossed his ankles.

“No, I can get it. You cooked it, the least I can do is bring it to the table.” She picked up the potholders he’d thrown aside earlier, slipped one on her right hand, and picked up the heavy roasting pan. Carefully she walked it over to the table, set the other potholder down, and placed the roasting pan on top of it.

“The trivets are in the drawer to the left of the stove along with the potholders.” He was bone tired and it was nice to sit and watch her move around his kitchen. She was graceful in a way that only a tall, lanky girl can be.

“Notice how I’m not commenting on the fact that you know what a trivet is”—she opened the drawer—“and that you own three.”

“Chalk that up to Naomi. She was into home decorating. She collected lots of things, trivets being one. She had like fifty hanging on that wall.” He pointed to wall above bookshelf. “It took me a year to clear out all of the Naomi, but I kept those three trivets.”

“Why?”

“Because I needed something to put hot pans on and those were the least stupid looking.” He could remember very clearly opening the credit card bill and finding that she’d spent five thousand dollars on trivets. For Naomi, collecting things had been more than a hobby. It was a sickness.

He waited for her ask about Naomi, but CanDee grabbed the handle of the mashed potato pot in one hand and a trivet in the other.

She looked down at the trivet. “Is that a T. rex?”

“Yep.” He sipped his Shiner.

“And that’s one of the least stupid-looking ones?” She set the T. rex down on the table next to the roasting pan. “I’ve never understood collecting things. Who needs two hundred teapots? It’s not like you can use more than one at a time.” She hunched her shoulders. “I guess you could if you were serving tea to lots of people, but honestly, I don’t know enough people I’d like to serve tea to that would necessitate more than one pot.”

He felt the same way.

“So you’re the practical type?” That label really didn’t fit her personality.

“Hell no. I just don’t think that collecting stuff makes sense. I’m the queen of impractical.” She went back for the green beans.

She picked up the handle of the pot and another trivet. This time it was a stick figure woman that looked like a chalk outline the police used. He’d kept that one because it was funny.

“What exactly do you think is impractical? I need an example.” He liked trying to figure out how her mind worked.

She set the trivet down on the table and placed the pot of green beans on top of it. “Take throw pillows, for example. One day I plan on having so many covering my bed that I practically need an extra bedroom to house them. And I’d love to have an extra-long brass bed where my feet don’t hang off the end.” She popped the lid off of the green beans. “The fact that I don’t have these things now is immaterial, I’m planning my impracticality very carefully.”

“I have an extra-long brass bed.” The words were out before he’d thought about what he was saying. He could feel heat rushing to his face as the image of her riding him played over and over in his head.

“You blush more than a thirteen-year-old girl. It’s so much fun to watch. I like it.” She removed the lid from the mashed potatoes. “Yum. I loved mashed potatoes.”

He’d always hated that he blushed, but it wasn’t like he could do anything about it. “I’m glad my humiliation entertains you.”

He walked to the kitchen and picked a chef’s knife out of the butcher-block knife holder to cut the roast, then grabbed a couple of large spoons from the china pitcher full of cooking utensils next to the stove.

“So are you going to show me your over-sized brass bed?” She arched an eyebrow.

His heel caught on the rug under the kitchen table and he stumbled but righted himself before he fell headlong into the mashed potatoes. “Edith had it made for Mel as a Christmas present. It’s long enough that my feet don’t hang off. I had to get the mattress and box springs specially made, but it’s so nice to fit on the bed.”

This was way too much detail, but her question had thrown him.

She put her hand over her heart and leaned back in her chair. “To sleep in a bed where I don’t have to curl up into a ball just to fit onto the mattress sounds like heaven.” She blew him a kiss. “Now I not only want you for your body, but also for your bed. I don’t know about you, but I think we should start sleeping together tonight. And for the promise of an enormous bed, I could break my rule and spend the whole night. Heck, I’ll even walk-of-shame it back to the cottage in the morning.”

Knowing how outlandish she was, he should have been prepared for the offer, but all he could do was stare at her slack-jawed as the picture of her naked and reclining on a million throw pillows, him kissing his way down her body, made it really hard to pull air into his lungs.

CHAPTER 8

CanDee knew her eyes were the size of Double Stuf Oreos, but she couldn’t help it. She held her hands up to the heavens, “Edith, I never should have doubted you.”

The one and only bathroom was spectacular. It had to be fourteen feet wide by twenty or so feet long. It was a perfect example of Victorian elegance.

“Did you add any of this or is this all Edith?” She’d never seen anything like it.

From floor to ceiling, white tile encased the walls and flooring. There was a gigantic copper claw-foot tub built for at least two people, and two huge porcelain sinks with spindle legs under two oval mirrors, but the circular shower was the best. It took up the entire bay window. A tangle of copper pipes ran around and under the four windows that jutted out over the first story. Several showerheads sprouted out of the pipes at different heights and angles like sunflowers holding their heads up to the sun. On the ceiling, four giant showerheads would rain water down in what must be a torrential flood.

“Edith was a genius, as she clearly states in her journals. She’d actually planned this when she designed the house so the plumbing was in place.” Cinco pointed to the amazing set of levers and dials that operated the shower. “It’s a wonderful shower, but it takes lots of water.”

“It looks like the multiple showerheads and body sprays that are popular now aren’t a new idea.” She counted seventeen showerheads. She couldn’t fathom how they’d heated enough water to fill the tub or run the shower without electricity. “Where does the hot water come from?”

Swimming in the enormous copper tub would be fun—or even better, a long, hot seventeen-showerhead shower.

Cinco smiled and nodded his head. “That’s where Edith’s genius truly comes into play.”

He walked to the bay windows in the shower and crooked his finger for her to follow. He pointed to a lean-to sort of shack thing about fifty feet from the back of the house. “We have a hot spring and that’s why Edith insisted on building the house right here. Under the ground, she had several pipes of increasingly smaller diameter installed to boost the pressure enough for the water to make it to the second floor.”

She stared out at the little unassuming building. “Edith really was brilliant. Well, apart from the fact that the shower has four large windows in it.”

Clearly, privacy hadn’t been an issue for Edith.

“Actually, opening the windows after the shower is a great way to vent the steam, but there is some trade-off on privacy.” He hunched his shoulders. “Still, it’s not that big of a problem out here. There’s really no one else around.”

She looked around. “Where’s the toilet?”

Gently, he turned her around and pointed. “See that closet to the left of the door? That’s the toilet. Edith’s one concession to Mel so she could have some privacy.”

“What’s in the closet on the other side of the door?” She was beginning to think that Edith was possibly a Mensa candidate.

“Just towels and stuff. Nothing spectacular.”

CanDee leaned so that her back and butt were against Cinco’s chest and thighs. “So, are you going to let me take a swim in your shower?”

“Maybe . . . someday . . . not tonight.” His voice was high and scratchy. He cleared his throat. “Not tonight.”

He was nervous. If he hadn’t been standing behind her, she knew she would have seen him blush. Was it the suggestion that she’d be naked in his shower or the fact that her backside was smashed up against him that made him nervous?

“Stop that.” There was a smile in his voice.

“What?” She wriggled her butt against him. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“The hell you don’t.” He stepped back and laughed.

“I want to see your bed.” She winked at him, all innocence. “I need to see if Edith had another stroke of genius.”

“Well, if it’s just for informational purposes.” He leaned down and kissed her lightly on the lips and then pulled back.

“Are you hitting on me?” She put her hand on her chest. “What would Edith say?”

He grabbed her hand and pulled her out of the bathroom, down the hall, past several bedrooms and to the door at the end. “Edith would have approved of you.”

“Are you sure, because I don’t know . . . she might have called me a shameless hussy or some other—” She caught sight of the bed. “Oh my God.”

It was a beautiful brass and wrought-iron bed with fancy scrollwork and flowers. In width, it appeared to be queen-sized, but the length had to be one and a half times larger than a regular bed.

“I love Edith.” CanDee ran to the bed and jumped on it, landing on her back and making a snow angel right in the middle. “My feet don’t hang off. I think I might cry.”

She glanced back at Cinco, who was hovering in the doorway. It was like he didn’t know whether to come in or stay put.

She rolled off the bed. “I can tell that my being in this room makes you antsy so I’ll leave before you start whispering again.”

She tried to walk past him, but he pulled her into his arms and kissed her hard on the mouth. She slid her arms around his neck and plastered her body to his.

“It looks like this is a very bad time.” A deep male voice said from behind CanDee.

Cinco ended the kiss and stepped back, but his arms stayed around her. Annoyance radiated off him. “Then why are you still here?”

She turned around. It was Rowdy.

“Because I’m on very important family business.” He grinned.

“What business?” Cinco kept his arm around her. It was possessive, and she kind of liked it. Phillip had never put a possessive arm around her in public . . . or anywhere else, for that matter.

“I heard you took off work early and were making your famous pot roast. I came to taste-test it for you. I’d hate for you to serve it if it sucks.” He held a hand up like a traffic cop. “No need to thank me, that’s just how I roll.”

“Too late. We already ate.” Cinco pulled CanDee into him. “And we’re on our way to the attic.”

“
‘On our way to the attic?’ Is that what you kids are calling it these days? Because it looked like you two were going to go at it right here in the hall.” Rowdy wagged a finger at Cinco. “You really should lock your front door. Anyone could walk in. For instance, I could have been giving a Girl Scout troop the ranch tour and then I would have had to answer some very interesting questions.”

“The tour doesn’t include my house.” Cinco worked his jaw back and forth.

“It does now.” Rowdy crossed his arms.

“You know that Rancho Red wine you’re so proud of?” Cinco’s eyebrows bounced off his hairline. “It’s about to become a collector’s item.”

“How do you figure that?” Rowdy’s handsome face curved into a smile.

“After I kill you, there won’t be anyone to make it anymore. It will become scarce and the price will skyrocket. Maybe I should buy a couple more cases before I feed your body to the pigs.”

“Well now . . . that’s just mean. And a little gross. Here I am offering my superior gastronomic palate and you go and offer to murder me.” He uncrossed his arms. “I’m telling Mom.”

“Some things never change.” Cinco gave CanDee a peck on the cheek before turning back to his brother. “Leave . . . now.”

“What happened to southern hospitality? Maybe I should just leave.” Rowdy huffed around sarcastically. “I’m not feeling very welcome.”

“What part of
leave now
did you not understand?” Cinco rolled his eyes.

“I can’t believe all of this hostility, and from family no less. Honestly, it’s enough to make me storm out of here, but thank God, I have better manners than that.” Rowdy squared his shoulders in resolve.

“Since when? Don’t let the door hit you in the ass on the way out.” Cinco cocked his head to the left.

“Here I am checking in on my celibate, old-maidenly older brother—making sure he didn’t die in his old-lady house and then not be found for like two weeks because he’s a celibate, old-maidenly kind of guy and all I get is anger. Don’t be a hater. I’m all about the love. Take a couple of deep breaths and let the love in.” Rowdy took two deep, dramatic breaths.

Cinco glanced at his watch. “How much longer is this going to take?”

“It’s hard to say, you might want to pull up a chair. Seeing as how I’m still holding that grudge over Charlotte Renfro, this may take hours.” Rowdy smiled sweetly.

“Who’s Charlotte Renfro?” CanDee knew she was being baited but she couldn’t help it.

“Only the love of my life. See, my dear older brother is responsible for destroying what could have been the most significant relationship of my life. When I was a mere babe of fifteen and our dear parents were out of town, I had a small gathering of friends—”

“A party. You had a party complete with half of the varsity football team passed out on the front lawn.” Cinco’s patience was wearing thin.

“Whatever . . . anyway, after weeks of preparation I talked Charlotte Renfro into going up to my bedroom and was about to seal the deal when my dear older brother walks in, picks me up—naked, mind you—and tosses me across the room. I had to wait a whole three weeks before she was ready to give it up again.” Rowdy shook his head. “I thought brothers were supposed to stick together.”

“I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but you’re adopted. Mom and Dad have been waiting for the right time to tell you.” Cinco blew out a frustrated breath.

“So hurtful. Why do you have to be so mean?” Rowdy looked honestly wounded.

“That wasn’t as hurtful as this.” Cinco, leaned down, picked up the wooden block he’d used for a doorstop, and hurled it at his brother. Rowdy ducked.

“All this animosity . . . it makes me so sad.” Rowdy wiped a fake tear away. “I’m sensing that you want me to leave—”

“Finally.” Cinco nodded.

“But, I can’t just walk out when my brother is in pain and so clearly needs me . . .” Rowdy was a grade-A drama queen.

Off went Cinco’s left boot, which then whizzed through the air at Rowdy.

“Maybe we should all hold hands and form a prayer circle to pray for Cinco’s anger management issues. Do you need a hug, big bro?” Rowdy held out his arms.

Off went Cinco’s other boot and headed for Rowdy’s head.

“I’m beginning to see that you’re not ready for help.” Rowdy backed down the hallway. “You can’t help someone who won’t help themselves. I’m sorry to do this, but I’m going to have to gather reinforcements. Maybe Mom and Dad will be able to talk you down off the ledge.” He shook his head. “I’m sorry that it’s come to this, but in your current adversarial mood, I just don’t know what else to do.”

“Lock the door on your way out.” Cinco called to Rowdy as he clomped down the stairs.

“You’re welcome, CanDee,” Rowdy yelled up from the bottom of the stairs. “I got him to start undressing, the rest is in your hands. Make sure he gets lucky, because clearly he’s jealous of my abilities with the ladies and that stress is turning him mean.”

The front door slammed closed.

“I’m not sure how to apologize for him.” Cinco scratched the back of his neck. “
I’m sorry
doesn’t seem like enough.”

“I’m an only child, so watching siblings is always interesting. Are the two of you always like this?” It seemed that the Roses laughed a lot, which was nice.

And clearly, Rowdy would be someone’s Edith. He needed a tolerant mate.

“Shall we?” Cinco pointed to the door next to the bathroom.

“What?” They weren’t going to have sex? “Don’t tell me you’re playing hard to get?”

Cinco would be an excellent lover. Judging by how he always seemed to put her first, she had no doubt that would extend to the bedroom. A man who valued her comfort above his own was hard to find. Come to think of it, Cinco was the only one she’d ever met.

“No, I agreed to show you the boxes in the attic.” He put his hand at the small of her back and urged her toward the door.

“You’re not pulling a Charlotte Renfro and making me wait three more weeks before you decide to give it up . . . are you?” She’d never had such a hard time getting a man in her bed.

“You’re impossible.” He opened the attic door for her, reached around her, and turned on the light.

“No I’m not, I’m just thinking about the amazing shower I’m going to take after sex.” She grinned. At least he wasn’t whispering when they talked about sex this time. It was progress . . . sort of.

“You’re just using my body to get to my shower.” He grabbed her hand and gently pulled her up the steep flight of stairs.

“There’s a lot of things I’d do for seventeen showerheads, but sex seems like the most pleasant. For example, I’d eat a pound of crickets or babysit triplets, or even spend an evening line dancing. Seventeen showerheads would be worth it.” Would it be breaking and entering if all she did after breaking in was shower?

“How flattering. I’m right up there with eating crickets.” He looked down his nose at her.

“Well, I could bump you up if, say, you offered me shower sex. Then you’d be right up there with Double Stuf Oreos on my most favorites list.” Both he and the shower would be amazing.

“I’ll keep that in mind.” He pulled her up the last stair and her eyes nearly fell out of her head as she took in the treasure trove before her.