That Night in Texas

“Have the police not asked anyone from your organization to help identify him?”

Angela shuddered. “Apparently his face came into contact with a slab of concrete and crushed his features.”

Ryder’s intelligent eyes sharpened. “Before or after the flood?”

Oh, he was quick. “They won’t say. But if it was before, it would have to be a pretty strong and cold person to pick up and drop a concrete slab on his face.”

“Not necessarily. You have forklifts on the site, don’t you? It’s not rocket science.”

Angela grimaced and closed her eyes. Who could do that? And why? Man, people were sick. Her eyes flew open when she felt Ryder’s big hand on her arm. And when he linked her fingers in his and pulled her behind the screen, she didn’t protest. She needed his warmth, his strength, just for a moment.

Ryder rubbed her bare skin, from elbow to shoulder. Angela knew that he meant it to be a reassuring gesture but it had the unfortunate side effect of heating her panties. She wanted his mouth on hers, to feel her breast mashed against his hard chest, have his fingers mess up her hair.

“Let me try that again. I apologize if I was insensitive, Angela, and I do respect your views.” Ryder sent her a wry smile. “It’s no secret that your father and I have a history and that he rubs me wrong. And it annoys me that he won’t accept that there was nothing between your mom and me but friendship.”

She didn’t want to think about any of that, not now. All she wanted was his mouth on hers.

He looked like he wanted the same thing. Ryder dipped his head and she could smell his sweet breath. She lifted her heels to bring her mouth to his a fraction sooner. She genuinely could not wait for his kiss—touching him was that important.

Ryder’s lips skimmed hers as a booming voice cut across the room.

“Ladies and gentlemen, if you can take your seats, please.”

Ryder pulled back and they exchanged a long look containing enough energy to generate a nuclear power plant. She didn’t want to talk about the Texas Cattleman’s Club. She wanted to leave with Ryder and then not talk at all.

Ryder linked his fingers in hers and placed a gentle kiss on her temple. “This isn’t over, darlin’.”

God, she hoped not.

* * *

Across town, Vivi frowned when she heard the strident chime of the front door. She opened the front door to a woman in her midthirties, who looked perfectly cool despite the humid temperatures outside.

“Can I help you?”

The woman gave her a tight smile. She introduced herself and held out her hand. “I’m here about the nanny position.”

The...what? Vivi shook her head and lifted her hands in confusion. “I’m sorry, what are you talking about?”

“Mr. McNeal contacted my agency first thing this morning and my supervisor set up this appointment. My current family is moving back to England, and as I’m one of the agency’s longest and most experienced nannies, they immediately thought of me when Mr. McNeal said that he was looking to interview nannies for his daughter.”

Vivi took a moment to process her statement. When the woman started to speak again, she held up her hand for silence. So, shortly after leaving her this morning, after a night of mind-blowing, soul-touching sex, Camden’s first impulse was to arrange for a nanny for Clem. What did that mean? What could it mean?

Vivi had no idea, but there was one thing she was sure of: she had no intention of taking Clem away from Charlie, and she most certainly didn’t need a nanny. After sending the woman on her way, telling her that there had been a miscommunication, Vivi shut the front door and pulled out her phone. She tapped it against her thigh, debating whether she should call Cam and blast him for making decisions without talking to her first.

But maybe that was what he was expecting her to do and a good reason why she should bide her time and wait and see what else he’d had planned for her day.

Because she was pretty sure there was more to come.

* * *

Sterling Perry knew that Ryder Currin was mentally giving him the middle finger and he wished he could walk over to him and put him on his ass. He’d wanted to punch Currin’s jaw for years now. Twenty-five years was a long time to keep his hatred under lock and key.