Her Secret Texas Valentine. Helen Lacey

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СКАЧАТЬ “Help people unselfishly. Without an agenda. She was never overly ambitious for a career—I guess my dad made up for that. But she always seems to be the best version of herself. Maybe doing things for other people makes a person their authentic best.”

      “I’m sure it does,” Jake said evenly. “But I think when we’re young, most of us are wrapped up in ourselves. It’s not a character flaw...just part of growing up. Don’t be too hard on yourself, Valene, I’m sure you do more for others than you realize.”

      Val stared at him. There was something about the rich timbre of his voice that soothed her. It also occurred to her that he wasn’t the roughneck that men who worked the land were often assumed to be.

      “You know, you’re very...nice,” she said and drank some wine. “You said you’d had your heart broken. Will you tell me about it?”

      His gaze didn’t waver. “There’s not much to tell. We went to high school together but weren’t in the same crowd. A few years after school we met up again. I loved her. I thought she loved me in return. I was mistaken. We split up.”

      Val knew there had to be more to the story, but she wasn’t going to pry any deeper. They barely knew one another, and she had to respect his privacy. If he wanted to say more about it, he would.

      Their meals arrived, and for the following hour, Valene was entertained by Jake’s quiet humor and easy conversation. They talked about movies and music; he entertained her with stories about working on the ranch and she did the same with tales of selling houses and dealing with clients. She told him about Maddie and Zach’s rivalry and how they fell in love. She talked about Schuyler’s whirlwind romance with one of the Mendozas, and he didn’t flinch at the mention of anyone’s name. If he knew of her connection to the Mendozas or the Fortunes, he had a great poker face.

      “Do you enjoy selling houses?” he asked once their plates had been cleared away and she was perusing the dessert menu.

      Valene nodded. “Yes. But I travel a lot between Houston and Austin at the moment and the hours can be long. Not as long as yours, I imagine, from sunrise to sunset. But I often work weekends doing open houses or catching up on paperwork. In fact, I’m working tomorrow morning for a few hours.”

      “What’s your favorite part of your job?”

      She let out a long breath. “My favorite part is when I show someone a house and they have that ‘this is the one’ look on their face. The funny thing is, sometimes the house they finally choose is nothing like what they were originally looking for.”

      “I imagine it’s a competitive industry.”

      “Fiercely,” she replied. “Even among people working in the same office. Landing an exclusive listing is so important but often difficult in today’s climate. Different agents offer different incentives, but I try not to get wrapped up in the theatrics. I simply match up my listing and prospective buyers the best I can. I mean, buying property is a considered purchase, not something people do on a whim. So I get to know the clients as real people. Their history, their family, their dreams. Buying a home is usually the biggest financial commitment someone will make in their lifetime, so I try to make the experience as stress-free as possible.”

      As she spoke, she longed to feel a surge of passion for what she did. Val liked her job. But she didn’t love it. She enjoyed working in the family business and strove to be the best she could be. She wasn’t as ambitious as Maddie and had little interest in climbing the corporate ladder or being in charge, but the selling, the brokering of deals, the influence she had when she clinched a sale, were challenging and had their rewards.

      “I imagine you’re very good at getting people to trust you,” he remarked, sipping his wine.

      Val smiled. “I’d like to think so. And you’re right, my clients, both buyers and sellers, put a lot of trust in my hands. So I’m always up front about what the home is worth, how it presents, how it feels. And I believe they appreciate that. Honesty is the key.”

      His blue eyes glittered brilliantly. “You’re right. And since we’re on the subject of honesty, I should come clean and tell you that I never order dessert.”

      Val smiled. “Well, I don’t see how this is ever going to work, then.”

      There was something hypnotic about his gaze, and she couldn’t have dragged her eyes away from his even if she’d wanted to. With every look, every word, Valene felt herself getting dragged further into his vortex.

      “You can order dessert if you want,” he told her. “I hear the cheesecake is good.”

      She shook her head. “I like my sweets in the morning. There’s this place down the road from my office, the Moon Beam Bakery, that does the most amazing blueberry and cream cheese bagels.” She moaned her delight.

      “So, then, instead of dessert, would you like to go dancing?” he asked.

      Oh, God, he danced, too.

      The man was perfect. Well, except for every other way that he wasn’t. The clothes, although neat and well fitted, were cowboy garb, and of course there was his beat-up truck and the fact he was a ranch hand. But still...he really was incredibly attractive. And smart. And funny.

      She nodded. “I would.”

      “Let’s go.”

      He signaled the waitress, paid the check with a credit card and said a quick farewell to Serge before helping her into her coat. It was chilly outside, and she pulled up the collar around her neck.

      “Where are we going?” she asked as they stepped onto the sidewalk.

      “Just down the block,” he replied. “Are you happy to walk or would you prefer we drive?”

      She looked down at her pointy shoes and nodded, thinking that Maddie would blow a gasket if she agreed to get into a car with a man she barely knew. But Valene didn’t feel as though she was in any danger with Jake. There was something unwaveringly trustworthy about him. He possessed an aura of enviable integrity, as though it was ingrained within his DNA.

      Still, it was such a short distance, she opted to walk.

      He grasped her elbow, and even through the woolen coat, she could feel the heat coming off his skin. They walked down the block and then across the road, passing several couples along the way before they reached their destination. She’d been anticipating the fashionable jazz club a few doors down from where they stood. But no. This wasn’t the jazz place.

      Valene came to an abrupt halt once she heard the music emanating from the very country, very cowboy bar and grill. Of course, she’d passed the place many times, but she had never ventured through the doors of the Red Elk. It was honky-tonk style, with a bar and booth seats and a dance floor toward the back. The place was surprisingly subdued and nowhere near as rowdy and noisy as she’d imagined.

      “Ah... I don’t really know how to dance to cowboy songs,” she said as he ushered her through the doorway and toward a table near the dance floor.

      He was smiling. “It’s easy,” he replied and took her coat, hanging it over the back of a chair. “You just hold on and sway.”

      Val wasn’t convinced. There were a few other couples on the dance floor, and the song changed just as Jake took СКАЧАТЬ