Page 15 of Seaside Cowboy's Fairy Tale

When he stepped back, her smile was wobbly. She hid it behind her lemonade glass. “Maybe it’s for the best. We’re total opposites from different backgrounds and like different things.” Then she chuckled. “Though I did get him to eat chicken wings with his bare hands, and he loved it.” Her expression sobered up again. “We’re like oil and water. Like fire and ice.”

“With you being fire, of course.”

“Of course.” She placed her empty glass on the table and squared her shoulders. She’d survived so much hardship by being an optimist. But wistfulness edged her voice and tinted her eyes. She deserved a long-overdue break. She was fond of the guy and missed him.

Tex would have to talk to him. Until now, he’d mostly helped—and placated his conscience—by writing checks and picking up ranch expenses or paying for repairs. Ranching wasn’t as lucrative as some people thought, but his brothers and mother loved it with their whole souls.

Early on, he’d decided to earn well, as much as he could so people dear to him could do what they loved and found meaningful. They were feeding the country, after all.

Here was something he could do in person. Unlike Mom and her, ahem, boyfriend, Tex and the guy were alike. Maybe they could understand each other. Then again maybe not, but it wouldn’t hurt to try.

“You’re worthy of the best. And I want you to be happy.” He drained his glass, then got up and gathered glasses and empty dishes. As much as he treasured this time with his mother, he had lots on his agenda. And she needed her sleep.

She followed him to the kitchen. “Throwing my words back at me. I see.”

“No. You just raised me well.” He kissed her weathered cheek, then rinsed the dishes, and lined them in the dishwasher. He dried his hands on a soft towel with a rooster imprint. “Anything I can help you with while I’m here?”

“You can help me by staying here to sleep. The room you shared with Darius is still available, though it’s a guest room now. I don’t want you to drive to Charleston this late at night.”

He had to hit the ground running early in the morning. “Oh please. I’ve driven with my eyes half closed.”

“Precisely.” She gave him a pointed stare, and just like in childhood, he relented. Ironic how as children and teens they’d only rebelled more after their father’s beatings, but one word from their mother, one glance, and they all obeyed.

“I’ll be glad to.”

In the morning, he got up with the sun, but his mother had beaten him to the kitchen and met him with the mouthwatering scents of coffee and bacon. After breakfast, he drove the familiar country road, nostalgia and regret twinging him. No, he didn’t question his life choices. He had no regrets about starting his own company and working hard to make it succeed.

He didn’t stay to see his brothers. He didn’t have time for it. Plus, he might’ve been the one who’d driven an invisible wedge between them, and he didn’t know how to remove it.

He rolled down the window, breathing in the fresh salty air while the breeze caressed his skin. He could afford a chauffeur, but he enjoyed the feeling of a muscle car obeying him, the thrill of speed as he passed yet another vehicle. An adrenaline spike invigorated him, gave him energy after a short night.

Just like Cinderella. She’d sent a jolt straight to his heart, and he’d dreamed of her again. But even in the dream, she never revealed her name or her face, for that matter.

Hmm. He’d done some car racing as a teen and then had taken risks with business. They paid off. The fast beat of his heart told him he wanted to take risks in his personal life again, as well.

His gaze swept over the magnificent coastline beyond his windshield as he reached the embankment. Sunrise colored the sky and water in the soft glow of flamingo pinks, peachy creams, and blinding golds. When was the last time he strolled along the beach and let the ocean tap his bare ankles?

He couldn’t remember. His fingers tightened around the steering wheel. As mesmerizing as the view was, he’d better concentrate on the tasks ahead.

A sedan with tinted windows stayed behind him, but he didn’t pay much attention, though he tensed. It wasn’t getting close, always a car or two back. Despite the early hour, tourists were already going back and forth in the busy season, but traffic wasn’t as congested as it would get soon. If the sedan got too close, he’d deal with it then.

He had a few police connections, and one of them was thankfully an early riser, as well. So he called the guy on the hands-free phone.

Minutes later, he disconnected, grimacing. Still no news on the stolen necklace.

In his life, he’d often gone all or nothing.

He had to find Cinderella.

––––––––

“You want me to do what?” Rachel stared at Ms. Mueller in the sparsely furnished office Rachel used from time to time to meet with clients. Did she hear that right?

“The report isn’t complete. You didn’t find out as much about Tex Lawrence as I wanted you to. Now, especially with this second jewel theft, I want you to shadow him.”

Rachel drew a deep breath. She’d never bailed on an assignment before, and Ms. Mueller had already forgiven the messed-up dress mishap. Plus, the woman had a point. Rachel hadn’t found out much about Tex, distracted by the theft and her pesky attraction. Even now, her pulse spiked just from her thinking of him.

That wouldn’t do.

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