скачать книгу бесплатно
His response was not what she would have expected him to say. “Then why don’t you go after whatever it is that you want?” she asked. “Life is short. Live every moment as if it’s your last.”
Wesley met Lydia’s gaze and smiled. “You’re right.” It just wasn’t that easy for him, however. He had to think of his family and what his choices would mean for them.
He leaned forward and asked, “Would you like to dance?”
She surprised Wesley by removing her high-heeled sandals. “Sure.”
He broke into a grin. “C’mon, darlin’.”
* * *
Perspiration dotted her brow as they made their way off the dance floor. Lydia was having the time of her life. The establishment looked like nothing more than an old shack, but the music was great.
Fanning herself with her left hand, Lydia said, “I need a glass of ice water.”
“Have a seat and I’ll get you some,” Wesley told her.
She returned to their table and sat down.
A few minutes later, Wesley walked over with her water. “Here you are, darlin’.”
“Thanks,” Lydia murmured as she accepted the glass from him. “You are a life saver.”
He dropped down into the seat beside her.
She turned to face Wesley and whispered, “This may surprise you, but I am having a great time.”
He eyed her. “Really? In a place like this?”
“Yes,” Lydia confirmed. “It doesn’t look like much, but I like it.”
“I have a confession to make,” Wesley stated.
“What is it?”
“I brought you here to get some type of reaction from you. I wanted a glimpse into the real you.”
“I guess you expected me to throw some type of tantrum.” Wesley had no idea that a place like this was nothing new to Lydia. She used to frequent some of the hole-in-the-wall joints back in Syracuse when she was in college. While she had been surprised in his choice, she was not repulsed by the establishment.
“I didn’t know what to expect, Lydia. I have another admission. From the moment I saw you at the gala, you’ve had my interest piqued.”
Lydia’s heart leaped at his words. It was at that moment that she realized just how much she wanted Wesley to find her desirable. Not just to play into her employer’s plan, whatever it really was. But for her own satisfaction.
“Be honest,” he said. “You’re not a little bit shocked that I brought you to a place like this? I’m sure you expected to be taken to some expensive restaurant.”
“I did,” she confessed. “But it doesn’t matter. Wesley, I’m not some snobby type, if that’s what you were worried about. I’m just a normal flesh-and-blood woman.”
“I’m glad to hear it,” Wesley said with a smile. “Relieved actually.”
Lydia laughed. “I have to confess that I wondered the same about you. I had hoped you weren’t some stiff-shirt type of snob.”
“I’m sure you know that’s not me by now.”
She nodded. Lydia thought she detected a flicker in his intense eyes. She shifted in her chair as she struggled to regain control of her emotions.
I’m here to do a job, she reminded herself. Getting involved with Wesley would be a huge mistake. One she could not afford.
Chapter 4
Laughing, Wesley checked his watch. “Lydia, I’m so sorry. I made reservations for us at a restaurant in Helena and booked a helicopter to take us there, but we will never make it in time.”
“I’m sure we can just grab something here in town,” she responded. Lydia did not care much for helicopters, so she was perfectly fine with staying in Granger for dinner.
“I promised you an unforgettable evening, and I’m not about to welch out on a deal. Why don’t you come out to the ranch? I’ll have Rusty prepare a special meal for us.”
“But what about your family?” she asked. “I don’t want to intrude.”
“Most likely, they have already eaten and will have retired for the evening.”
“Wesley, you really don’t have to go to all of this trouble. I’m having a great time with you. We can stay here as far as I’m concerned.”
“I don’t know about you, but I’m hungry.”
“So am I,” Lydia admitted. “Why don’t we just go back to the hotel and have dinner?”
He shook his head no. “It’s all settled. We are going to the ranch.” His tone brooked no argument. “Just give me a few minutes to talk to Rusty.”
Wesley made a quick phone call.
“Dinner will be ready by the time we arrive,” Wesley announced as he put away his phone.
“Are you sure that we won’t interrupt your family’s evening?”
“We won’t,” he confirmed. “Rusty said that they are all in their rooms.”
They walked outside to the car.
Wesley opened the door for Lydia and waited until she was safely inside before walking around to the driver’s side.
“I promise you that you won’t regret this,” he told her. “Rusty is dynamic when it comes to preparing meals.”
Lydia was enjoying her time spent with Wesley immensely. She didn’t need a fancy restaurant or a meal prepared by an award-winning chef. She found that she did not want this night to end. Wesley was turning out to be so much more than she ever expected.
She reminded herself once more that she would have this night with him, but in a couple of weeks, she would be headed back to Los Angeles.
* * *
“Welcome to the BWB Ranch,” Wesley said as he drove through the entrance.
Lydia was in awe at the sight of such opulence. She had seen photographs of the home and knew that the three-story wooden abode boasted five thousand square feet of living space and another five or six thousand square feet of covered porches. “What a beautiful house,” she murmured.
“My parents designed every inch of it.”
“I can’t wait to see the interior.” Lydia wanted a firsthand view of this luxurious home that had been featured in several magazines.
Although Wesley was not aware of it, Lydia had a copy of the Browards’ floor plan.
The master bedroom loft touted two baths, something she had never heard of but thought it particularly useful.
Gwendolyn Webb Broward and her husband, Steven, met them in the foyer.
Lydia glanced over at Wesley, then back at his parents.
“I really hope we are not imposing,” she told them.
“You’re not,” Gwendolyn assured her. “My husband and I are retiring upstairs, so you and Wes have the house to yourselves. We just came down to get something to drink.”
She and Wesley bade them good-night.
“I didn’t expect to see them,” Lydia whispered.
“Everything’s fine. You can relax.” He took her by the hand and said, “I’ll give you a tour.”
Lydia inhaled the sweet-smelling scent of the cedar wood as they went from room to room.
“Let me guess...this is where the men gather,” she said when they entered a sports bar–inspired entertainment area with a wet bar bedecked in retro neon beer signs.
Wesley chuckled. “Yeah, this is the man cave.”
They ended up in a great room with an extremely tall tongue-and-groove ceiling, wide-plank walnut floors and a larger-than-life fireplace.
They settled down on a leather couch.
“This ranch has been in your family for years,” Lydia began. “Is the original homestead still on the property? I’m just curious.”
“It is,” Wesley confirmed. “It’s where I live.”
“I think you mentioned that your grandfather lives here, as well. I guess I thought that he resided in that home.”
“He did,” he responded. “Up until a few years ago. He’s in his eighties and doesn’t need to live alone, so my parents convinced him to move into the main house with them. My siblings also have their own places on the ranch. We have a dormlike facility where our workers live.”
“This is all very impressive, Wes. I’d love to hear more about your family history.” Lydia loved history. She had even done research on African-American cowboys before coming to Granger.
He rose to his feet. “I’ll tell you while we eat dinner.”
Lydia allowed him to help her up. She followed him into the massive dining room. There was enough room for twenty people to eat.
She and Wesley sat down at one end of the table where plates of food had been arranged for them, complete with candles and soft music.
After saying grace, Lydia sampled the deviled crabmeat in a mini bread bowl. “This is so delicious,” she murmured.
“Rusty can whip up a five-star menu or supper for a bunch of hungry cowboys like it’s nothing,” Wesley stated.
She tried the pasta and caviar—a combination she would have never thought to put together but found delectable.
Picking up her napkin, she wiped her mouth. “Tell me about your family’s rich history.”
“The ranch was founded by my great-grandfather Silas in 1930. He and his wife, Olivia, had four sons, two of whom stayed in Granger and worked the ranch. One of those sons is my grandpa. In fact, the house my grandfather was born in still sits on the property. I live in that house. I remodeled it a few years ago, but I kept most of it the same as the original.”
“How did your family get into breeding heritage farm animals?” Lydia inquired.
Wesley broke into a grin. “It was my dad’s idea. Some folks thought this was just another crazy idea of his—he was always coming up with ideas about cattle breeding that seemed over the top. Folks used to tell my grandpa that his son was going to run the ranch into the ground, but turns out, my dad’s idea was a good one.”
“Now it’s your turn,” he said. “Tell me about your family.”
“Well, my story is nothing like yours,” Lydia responded, swallowing guilt over the lie she was about to tell. “My parents built a comfortable lifestyle by opening a couple of high-end boutiques.”
“I’d say they are more than comfortable,” he said. “Ten thousand dollars is a lot of money. No one in the history of that auction has ever bid that much money.”
“It benefits those less fortunate,” she replied. “I don’t think you can put a price on helping others.”
Wesley nodded in agreement.
Lydia wiped her mouth on the edge of her napkin. She prayed he wouldn’t ask additional questions about her family because she did not want to lie to him any more than she already had.
“There’s chocolate chip pie for dessert,” Wesley announced.
The food was delicious, but Lydia found that she had lost her appetite. “Oh, wow...I’m afraid I don’t have any room left. I’m stuffed.”
“Would you like some coffee?”
“No thank you,” she murmured. “I’m fine.”
They finished up and returned to the great room.
Lydia heard footsteps and turned around.
“I didn’t know anyone was down here,” Jameson stated as his surprised gaze landed on her and stayed. “I thought tonight was your date night. Aren’t you two supposed to be having dinner in Helena?”
“Yeah,” Wesley responded. “But we ended up here instead.”
“Whose idea was this?”
“Mine,” Wesley responded.
“Wes, can I speak with you for a moment?” Jameson requested. His tone suggested that he would not take no for an answer.
“Sure.” Wesley rose to his feet. “I’ll be back shortly.”
