The Ruthless Caleb Wilde

“Yes,” he said, because it was senseless not to admit it. “But I told you, we’re going to be fine.”

“So,” she said, trying for a smile. “You’re one of those the-glass-is-half-full people.”

“Actually, I’m a pragmatist.” He laced his fingers through hers, lay their entwined hands over the gearshift. “And that’s how I know we’ll be fine. It’s not as if we’re going into this blind. We know who we are and what we’re doing. We’ve been honest with each other, and honesty’s the basis of any successful relationship.”

“Wow, all over again,” Sage said softly.

He grinned. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to sound like Dr. Phil.” He pulled to a stop at a red light and looked at her. “I know we’re bound to hit some bumps in the road during the next few weeks. You have to tell me if I don’t notice.”

She nodded. “And you’ll do the same with me.”

“Hey,” he said lightly, “honesty and trust. How can we lose?”

She smiled. “In that case …”

“Yes?”

“Are you ever going to tell me where we’re going?”

“I wanted to surprise you.”

“Everything that’s happening is a surprise.”

She was right. And look at how his last attempt at a surprise, the abortive flight to Dallas, had turned out. Maybe surprising her wasn’t the way to go.

“To my hotel. My hotel, not that fancy funeral parlor Caldwell chose for our meeting.”

“Wasn’t it awful? Like a set for The Addams Family.”

“That old TV series. Yeah.”

“The Broadway show. I was in it.”

The light went to green; he gunned the engine and the car shot forward.

“Time for another ‘wow,’” he said, smiling at her.

“Not really. I had three whole lines in the first act.”

“Acting’s a tough profession, huh?”

“Uh-huh. I’ve done off-Broadway. And a lot of off-off Broadway. And a lot, a lot, of commercials.”

“I don’t know much about acting.” He glanced at her. “But there’s lots of theater in Dallas.”

“I don’t know Texas at all.”

“Well, you will. Soon. It’s not as big as New York but—”

She squeezed his hand. “It’ll be okay,” she said softly.

“Yes,” he said gruffly, “it will. I’ll show you all my favorite haunts. And if you don’t like my condo, we’ll buy something else.”

“Is that where you live? I thought you lived on El—El—”

“El Sueño. It’s the family ranch and I do spend some time there but I’m in Dallas most of the week.” He glanced at her. “Heck. Who wants to raise a kid in a city high-rise? We’ll look for a house. Maybe a ranch. Outside Dallas. Even in Wilde’s Crossing. Would you like that?”

She hesitated. “I don’t—I don’t know what to say, Caleb. It’s all so new …”