The Charmer in Chaps Page 19

  “What party?” Nick asked, looking between Luca and Mom.

  “Can’t we sell some stock or something?” Hallie interjected.

  “Then we’d have to pay more taxes. What party?” Nick asked again.

  “Ask you brother,” Luca’s mother said, and sat heavily in the chair next to Grandma.

  Nick looked at Luca.

  This was not the way Luca had wanted to have this conversation. “Brandon and I are planning a fundraising event here at Three Rivers—”

  “Here?” his mother exclaimed sharply.

  “Here,” Luca said evenly. “We’re bringing together researchers, environmentalists, and academicians to pitch turning some land into a conservation ranch.”

  “What land?” Nick asked.

  “The land Dad left me.”

  Nick stared at him, as if trying to process this news.

  “If we need money, we damn sure don’t want to spend it on some fancy party. We need to sell that land,” his mom said flatly. “Tell him, Nick.”

  “You do not sell land,” his grandma said in a moment of fierce clarity. “And besides, Charlie already gave enough land away to that bastard kid of his.”

  “His name is Tanner, Grandma,” Hallie said. “Tanner Sutton. And he’s a nice guy.”

  Everyone paused to look at Hallie.

  “What?” she asked. She stood up and walked to the bar. “I ran into him at Jo’s Java and said hello, and he asked me how I was, and we sort of talked about losing Dad.” She dipped down, then stood up again with a bottle of wine.

  “I’m going to nip this in the bud right here, Hallie Jane Prince,” his mom said. “We are not inviting that man into our lives.”

  Hallie rolled her eyes. “I didn’t invite him to dinner, Mother. I just said hello.” She poured wine to the rim of her glass.

  “Can we please stay on track here?” Nick asked.

  “Yes. The track is that I say we need to sell the land your father left to Luca,” his mother said. “That’s useless acreage to us.”

  “It’s not useless,” Luca said quietly. “And I’m not selling. I just told you, I’m hosting a big fund-raiser here hoping for general buy-in from environmentalist investors. Brandon’s working on the paperwork to establish a foundation to support the transformation and maintenance of the land.”

  “How are you going to pay for that?” Nick asked.

  “The trust Grandpa left me. My income from the dealership. But mostly with the money we raise.”

  “Your trust? The money my father worked hard all his life for?” his mother exclaimed.

  “Leave him alone, Delia,” Grandma said.

  “This is not your business, Dolly,” his mother snapped, and turned her glare to Luca. “I want to know how much, Luca. I think we all want to know how much money you are going to waste on land that could produce income for us. This is a serious family issue.”

  Luca tossed the whiskey down his throat. “You just said the land was useless, Mom. But here’s the thing—that land is mine, and I’m sure George told you that I can do what I like with it. I can build a space ship and launch it from there if I want.”

  “That sounds like fun,” his grandma said in all seriousness.

  “Dad’s will stipulated that I can’t use family money for anything I do there, so you don’t have to worry about it,” Luca added.

  “I can’t believe you’re going to waste your trust fund that my father left for you on this stupid idea of creating some wondrous natural oasis. Well, guess what, Luca—we live in South Texas. The land is never going to be pretty to look at.”

  “That depends on your perspective,” Luca said tightly.

  “My perspective is what is right for this family. What is right for this family is that we sell that land because it is worthless. That’s why your father left it to you.”

  Something hard and cold stirred in Luca. He glanced at Nick, who looked as stunned as he felt, then looked at his mother again. “What do you mean by that?”

  “Did you think your father would leave you valuable property?” she asked. “Of course not, because you never stick to anything.”

  “Mom, stop,” Hallie said irritably. “We all know you’re furious with Dad, but you don’t need to take it out on Luca.”

  “Actually, Mom,” Luca said, surprised by how deadly cool his voice was, “this is an idea I’ve stuck with since I was a kid. It is the one thing I’ve been consistent about. The one thing I’ve wanted to do.”

  His mother suddenly sighed, and her shoulders drooped as if he’d just informed her one of the horses had died. “Oh, Luca,” she said sadly. “I know you want to save the world.”

  “Nope. Not the world. Just our ranch.”

  “But don’t you see that what you want is impractical?”

  “That’s not true,” he said, and for a moment, a slender moment, he thought he might get through to her, might convince her to look at it another way. “I’ve been studying up, and I think—”

  “Studying up? My God, Luca, you can’t even read.”

  Her remark was met with stunned silence. Luca could hear his heart pounding, could hear Nick’s breath coming hard and short, like he was about to blow.

  “I shouldn’t have said that,” his mother tried, realizing, too late, her mistake. She opened her mouth again, but Luca put his hand up, stopping her from botching any attempt at an apology. She’d done enough damage. “No need to explain, Mom. It’s never been a secret what you think of me.”

  “What?” She looked around the room for support and found none. “Don’t be like that, honey. I love you. I have always only wanted the best for you—”

  “Sorry,” Luca said, cutting her off. “It’s too late for that.” If he stood here another second, he feared he would detonate. He put the whiskey glass on the bar, with a finger of whiskey still in it. “We can wrap this up right now. That’s my land. Not yours. Not Prince family land. And I’m not selling it. Now, whether you or anyone else believes it is a good idea or not, I don’t give a good goddamn. It’s none of your business. Brandon and I would like to host the fundraiser here in early June, just so you know. I’ll work the dates and details out with Martin.”

  “Luca, I’m sorry,” his mother said again, pleading now. “I shouldn’t have said that. I’m just concerned! You’re going to need money to do anything with that land. You can’t use up your trust like that, and Chet says you never show up for work as it is.”

  “Good Lord, Delia, if I were you, I’d shut up about now,” his grandma said.

  Luca looked at Nick. His brother’s eyes were locked on their mother, and his expression was dark. “Anything else, Nick? If not, I’m going to get out of here.”

  Nick turned his gaze to his brother and shook his head. “Nope. Just let us know the date, so we can plan to attend.”

  “Great. Well, thanks, all, for another delightful evening,” Luca said, and turned around and strode out of the family room.

  “Luca, wait!” Hallie called after him.

  He ignored her and kept walking, across the marble foyer, down the hickory planks of the long hall, through the sunroom, past the pool, and along the flagstone path to the garage.

  He was driving before he realized it, his elbow out the open window of his truck, the sunroof retracted so he could breathe in the cool night air and calm himself down. He wasn’t angry. He was disappointed. Definitely numb. But mostly, he was so damned determined to prove his mother wrong that he suddenly crashed one fist down onto the steering wheel.

  At the end of the drive, as he waited for the gate to roll back, images from his life kept racing through his head. Of all the disparaging things his mother had ever said to him. Of all the times she’d claimed to be looking out for him.

  When the gate opened, he drove through, his intention to head to his loft.
But when he reached Three Rivers, he looked at the clock. It was half past nine.

  He was about to pass Timmons Tire and Body when he abruptly pulled into the lot and parked.

  He wasn’t thinking straight, but he suddenly had a deep yearning to be with someone whose last name wasn’t Prince.

  He picked up his phone and studied the screen a long moment, debating. He clicked the text icon and typed, U up? His thumb hovered over the send button for what seemed like several minutes before he finally sent it.

  A moment passed. And another. Three dots popped up on his screen. Who’s this?

  Luca groaned and dropped his head to the headrest, his eyes closed. But then his phone pinged again and he glanced down.

  Jk. . Maybe I’m up. Why?

  Luca knew what the text said, but he sounded out the letters in his head to make doubly sure there was no mistake, and then slowly smiled. He searched through the emojis until he found one that looked slightly thoughtful, sent it, then turned his truck and crossed the road, heading down the old county road to Ella’s house.

  Chapter Nineteen

  What was that? Ella wondered. A confused face emoji? A thinking face emoji?

  What was she supposed to make of that?

  She was so bad at this. Flirting was beyond her. When it came to men, she was the type of woman who needed to know exactly what was happening. She liked black and white, no gray, everything by the numbers, just like her accounting. She needed a text like this one spelled out. Which of these best describes the purpose of your text: This is/is not a booty call. Circle the one that applies.

  Was it a booty call? Because honestly, in spite of what she had thought about Luca being a player all these years, she was beginning to believe that maybe he wasn’t that kind of guy after all. And then again, maybe she was kidding herself. Maybe she was just full of green hope.

  But she’d had such a great time tonight, a casual evening with a handsome, considerate man who had not seemed the least bit appalled by her past. She’d told him things she’d not said out loud in a very long time, things she liked to keep buried and forgotten. The amazing thing was that it had been surprisingly easy to tell him. She didn’t sense any judgment from him, got not one whiff of superiority that his life had been “normal.”

  She wouldn’t have faulted him if he had. She got it—people with more traditional lives couldn’t fathom what it was like for kids like her, who’d grown up in the foster care system because her mother was in prison. People who did all the things they were supposed to and went to church and raised their kids right and maybe had too much to drink on occasion but were generally responsible, were sometimes quick to make judgments about people like the Kendalls.

  Her family had been easy to judge, her mother especially. But Ella had come to terms with it along the way. Her upbringing had been very unconventional, but that didn’t make her a bad person. Her mom’s mistakes were not hers. If other people couldn’t see that, it was their problem. Not Ella’s.

  And yet, it hadn’t been easy, and Stacy was right, Ella had built some pretty high walls around herself as a result. Still, she’d managed, and she was both grateful to Luca and relieved that he hadn’t looked away, hadn’t stopped touching her when she’d told him about her life. She appreciated that he’d let her talk, because once that floodgate had opened, she’d wanted it all out there in the open.

  She’d liked being with him so much that she’d come home feeling slightly bereft. To be honest, she hadn’t been ready for the night to end, and if she were a go-getter, a girl from a country western song, she’d have made her own booty call.

  So if his text was the call she was too chicken to make herself, she was open to it, and she wouldn’t hold it against him, because she was really into this man.

  Ella went into the bathroom to check herself out and make sure she didn’t have taco on her face or something just as embarrassing. She brushed her hair while the practical voice in her head warned her that she shouldn’t go in so deep, shouldn’t let her heart fill up, because eventually, their worlds would collide, and her heart would burst when it was time to acknowledge there was no future with Luca Prince for a woman like her.

  “For the love of God, shut up,” she said to her practical voice, and glanced down at Buddy, who was all ears. “Could I possibly, just once, loosen up and go with the flow?”

  Buddy cocked his head to one side, as if considering her question.

  “Could I, for once, be the one to win the prize?”

  Buddy kept listening.

  “I know I have issues,” she said to the dog. “It’s not rocket science, right? I have serious trust issues and always fear the consequences, because my rug has been yanked out from under me time and time again, am I right?”

  Buddy gave her several resounding and affirmative thumps of his tail against the floor.

  “Maybe,” she said, squatting down to scratch his ears, “this time, I could not worry so much about what is going to happen tomorrow and just enjoy the ride?”

  Buddy scrambled up to lick her face. You like him, Ella, she thought to herself. You really like him. You like him in a jittery, please-don’t-ever-end way, and not in the usual yeah, maybe, we’ll-see-what-happens way. You, my friend, are standing on the edge of a diving board ready to take a headlong plunge into the deep. In the dark. And there are rocks at the bottom. But go ahead, knock yourself out.

  It was too late to back out even if she’d wanted to—she heard the truck before she saw the lights on the road. Buddy heard it, too; his ears pricked up, and he launched himself at the door.

  “Oh, so it’s like that, huh?” Ella said, and stepped over his wiggling body to open the door. Buddy burst through the screen door and bounded down the steps, scrambling to the driver’s side of Luca’s truck and planting his paws on the door before Luca could put the thing in park.

  Luca got out and gave Buddy the intense attention he was looking for, rolling him onto his back and scratching his belly with both hands. He stood up and smiled at Ella on the top step of the porch, then sauntered sheepishly forward. “Hey,” he said.

  Ella nervously slipped her hands into her jean pockets. “You keep showing up at my house,” she said.

  Luca shrugged and smiled. “What can I say? That’s where you are.”

  Okay, all right, that sort of talk made her feel all woozy and soft inside. She wished she could think of something funny to say, something completely charming, right out of a romantic comedy movie script. But she couldn’t think of a single thing so she just grinned back at him like an idiot.

  “How is it you look even better now than you did earlier?” he asked as his gaze moved over her. He put a sneakered foot on the bottom porch step, and she wondered how many times in his life he’d charmed the pants off a girl. She decided she shouldn’t let it be so damn easy. “Hey, how many girlfriends have you had?”

  Luca paused and gave her a funny look. “Is that a trick question?”

  “Just curious.”

  “Okay,” he said warily. “In my lifetime?”

  She had to think about that. She’d had a boyfriend in the first grade—at least Angel Martinez had pronounced her as such. “Starting with your sophomore year in high school. I don’t need to know about the earlier crushes.”

  He arched a brow. “Got it,” he said, and settled back against the porch railing. “So do you want to know how many crushes or girlfriends I’ve had?”

  “Good point of clarification, thank you,” she said, bowing her head in acknowledgment. “Both.”

  “Softball question. I’ve had a lot of girlfriends. But to my recollection, I’ve only had one true crush.” He smiled slowly, his eyes dancing with challenge. “Does that answer your question?”

  Ooh, but that was a funny little slide of heat through her. She nodded dumbly. “Yep.”

 
“Your turn. How many have you had?” he asked.

  She was feeling a little loose in the knees and wrapped her arm around the porch railing post. “Four real boyfriends, not counting Angel Martinez. We were only seven.”

  “Crushes?” he asked.

  She pushed her hair back and took him in. “Only one. One big, fat crush.”

  “Isn’t that interesting,” he drawled. And then he laughed.

  “What?”

  “You’re blushing.”

  “I’m not blushing—”

  “You’re as red as a tomato.”

  “That’s just the porch light,” she said, and rubbed her fingers on her cheeks, as if she could somehow rub the blush out of them.

  “I’m starting to figure you out, Ella Kendall, you know that?” he asked.

  “Please,” she said. “There is nothing to figure out. I come home and feed animals. That’s about it.” That, and I am wild about you.

  “You know, when I was a kid, Hallie and I had this picture book. The first page was a drawing of a framed picture with nothing in the picture but a red door. Turn the page, and the picture was the red door and a window. Turn another page, it was the red door, a window, a rug. Every page added something until the picture was a room with furniture, a cat, a teakettle and muffins, some books on a shelf, and a little old lady sitting in a rocking chair, knitting socks.”

  What was he talking about? “Is that supposed to make sense?”

  “You are a lot like that book, Ella. Every time I see you, something else gets added to the picture.”

  “Wow,” she said, and felt the smile curving on her lips. “I didn’t know I had so many layers. I haven’t figured out anything about you,” she said. “Other than you’re ridiculously handsome.”

  He grinned. “As delighted as I am to hear that, I hope you’ve seen more than that.”

  “Yeah,” she said thoughtfully. “I have. You’re persistent. And surprisingly consistent.”