Tempted by the Texan

“This was a bad idea,” he said, breaking the kiss and putting a little space between them.

“Why do you say that?” she asked as she looked up at him.

Jaron could tell by the awareness in her green gaze that she’d felt the evidence of his need and knew exactly what he’d meant by the comment. “Mariah, I’m not what you—”

“Save it, Jaron,” she interrupted him. “I’ve heard it all before. You’re too old for me. Or you’re not right for me. Or whatever else you’ve come up with to use as an excuse to put distance between us.” She pulled away from him. “I’m ready to leave.”

As he followed her back to their table for her to collect her jacket, Jaron took a deep breath. He had been fooling himself to think he could be that close to her without wanting more. The magnetic pull between them was too strong for that to ever happen.

As he watched her walk briskly toward the restaurant’s exit, he cursed his weakness and the need for her he couldn’t seem to keep under control. He hadn’t intended to piss her off, but it was probably just as well that he had. Maybe if she was mad at him, she’d be able to do what he couldn’t seem to do himself. And that was to make him keep his hands off her.

By the time they reached the parking lot, Jaron practically had to trot to keep up with Mariah—a good indication of just how upset she was with him. Before he could reach her to help her into his truck, she climbed up into the passenger seat and slammed the door.

So much for dancing with her to make her happy, he thought as he got into the truck and started the engine. The ten-mile ride back to the Wild Maverick was an uncomfortably silent one, and by the time he parked the truck in the garage, he figured she would get out of the truck and go straight upstairs to her room.

But when they entered the kitchen she turned to face him. “Jaron, don’t you think it’s past time that you were honest with both of us?” she asked point-blank.

He wasn’t going to insult her intelligence by asking her what she meant, but he wasn’t going to talk about it, either. Instead of answering, he chose to remain silent.

After a few tense moments, Mariah shook her head. “We both know you have feelings for me. But you can’t or won’t allow yourself to admit that. I want to know why.”

“I’ve told you before,” he stated.

“Not good enough.” She held up her hand to stop him from responding. “I don’t want your standard excuses. I want the truth, Jaron. And until you can give me that, I’d just as soon you don’t say anything at all.” Without giving him a chance to respond, she turned and walked down the hall toward the stairs.

As he watched her go, Jaron knew she was right. She deserved his honesty. But as much as he would like to tell Mariah about himself, he’d much rather endure her anger than to have her look at him the way some of the foster families had—with a mixture of fear and suspicion.

Four

As Mariah tried to organize the things she had bought at the grocery store on the pantry shelves, she couldn’t help but think about what had happened with Jaron at the restaurant the evening before. They’d had a nice dinner and he had suggested they stay afterward to dance, even though it was something he didn’t like doing. He had even kissed her while they were dancing. Then, just when she thought he might be ready to admit that there was more going on between them than friendship, he’d stopped himself and reverted back to keeping her at arm’s length.

Why did he have to be so darned stubborn? And why couldn’t he at least give her an explanation for why he felt the way he did?

She had no idea what could be holding him back. But telling her he was too old for her or that he wasn’t right for her were excuses, not reasons. There was more to it than their age difference and she was determined to find out what it was and if he’d let her, help him move past it.

Deciding there was no easy way to get him to open up to her, she sighed and turned her attention back to the task at hand. She checked the list she had printed from the website of a popular cooking show. She had bought every spice they suggested, even if she didn’t have a clue what she was supposed to do with them.

In hindsight, she probably should have called Bria for advice on what to get to stock the pantry and freezer. Her sister would know what all the spices were used for. But she had decided not to bother Bria. For one thing, she was busy chasing after a very active two-year-old and didn’t have a lot of free time. And for another, Mariah was reluctant to tell Bria about accepting Jaron’s offer to be the housekeeper and cook for the Wild Maverick Ranch.