Page 1 of Texas Made
Chapter One
Marshall Walker mightdrive a 4X4 Dodge Ram pickup truck but he’d fantasized about having a Corvette more times than he could count. In front of the cottage that was back behind the barn on the Walker ranch sat a fire-engine red beauty, in perfect condition, and he’d bet it ran like a fire on steroids. It sure didn’t belong to their new ranch manager, Ella Slade. She drove an older model pickup. Plus, she’d moved out of the cottage recently to live with his brother Chase at the big house until their own house was finished.
“Whose red Corvette is parked by the cottage?” Marshall asked his sister Damaris, who was grooming her mare, Cinnamon.
Damaris looked at him over the mare’s back. “Oh, that’s Jaclyn’s. I told you she was going to stay with us for a while, didn’t I?”
“No.” If she had, he hadn’t been paying attention. “Jaclyn who?”
Damaris looked exasperated. “Jaclyn Carson. You know, my friend from college.”
Jaclyn Carson? He hadn’t seen her in years, not since she was nineteen. She’d been a pretty girl, a model, Damaris had said. But she was his baby sister’s age. Which had made her too young and definitely off-limits. Then. “Jack’s staying here?”
“Jaclyn,” Damaris said, emphasizing the name, “is going to live with us until her condo is ready. The whole complex is being redone and she needs a place to stay.”
“For how long?”
“Until her place is finished.”
That was informative. “I thought she lived in Dallas?”
“She does. But she needs a change of scene and we decided she should come here. She can work from here when she needs to.”
“She makes lipstick or something,” he remembered. “Why can’t she stay at a hotel in Dallas?”
“Because she’s staying here, in the cottage behind the barn,” Damaris said impatiently. “And FYI she’s the owner and CEO of a very successful makeup company. It’s called Divinity.”
“I thought that was candy.” He rubbed the back of his neck. Damn, of course he remembered Jaclyn. She’d kissed him, once, when she was nineteen and he was twenty-four, which was also why there had only been one kiss. But that one kiss had been hotter than most of the ones he’d had before or after. And Marshall had kissed a lot of women.
“Here she comes now. Be nice,” Damaris said. “Jaclyn, you remember Marshall, don’t you?”
He kind of hoped she wasn’t as pretty as he remembered since he didn’t need the distraction. Then he turned around and saw her. She wasn’t pretty. She was absofreakinlutely gorgeous. Long, tousled blonde hair, clear green eyes set under dark brows and lashes, a perfect nose, and the most luscious, kissable lips he’d ever seen, painted as red as her Corvette. Holy shit, he was in trouble.
“Of course. Hello, Marshall. It’s good to see you again.” Her voice was sultry as summer, a smooth, silky contralto. She held out her hand and he took it. Her skin was soft but her handshake was firm.
She wasn’t nineteen anymore. This was a woman. A self-possessed, beautiful woman who could slay a man with a look—and knew it. She threw him off-balance. Womenneverrocked him like one look at Jaclyn Carson had done. He didn’t like it. He said, “Hi, Jack. Likewise.” Likewise? Had he really said likewise?
“Smooth as ever, I see.” She gave him a wintry smile and added, “Call me Jaclyn.”
She hadn’t liked the nickname at eighteen or nineteen and it didn’t seem as if she liked it any better now. Good. This woman had trouble with a capital T written all over her.
“Sure, Jaclyn,” he said, releasing her hand.
Damaris, who was a damn sight too observant, said, “We could use some help with Jaclyn’s stuff. If you’re not too busy.” The look in her eyes said he’d better not be.
Hell, he wasn’t scared of his little sister. Even if she did have ways to make him pay.
On second thought, he’d been on the receiving end of Damaris being pissed and it was definitely to be avoided.
How bad could it be? Since she’d be living with them, he’d have to be around Jaclyn so he might as well start now. Treat her like he did Damaris. That was the ticket.
Yeah, that wasn’t going to work. He didn’t, in any way, shape, or form, think of Jaclyn Carson the same way he did his sisters.
*
Damn it, MarshallWalker looked every bit as mouthwateringly tempting as he had years ago, when she was in college. The least he could do was have a potbelly, but no, he was every inch a lean, hardworking, sexy-as-sin cowboy.
His dark wavy hair was medium length, a little shaggy, like he needed a haircut. He had the same gray eyes, which she assumed still darkened or lightened with his mood. Perfectly sculptured features. Strong and manly. He hadn’t shaved, which only seemed to accent his good looks. Odd, since she preferred men to be clean-shaven. Which nowadays was pretty damn hard to find.
