Cougar in Texas: 3 (Rugged and Risque) Read Online Free Page A

she’d learned of Tommy’s deception, she hadn’t allowed herself to accept the very harsh reality that suddenly came to mind, because of Caleb’s presence. She was lonely. And had been for an extremely long time.
    Tears stung the backs of her eyes and she had to blink them away. She didn’t want to remain mired in disillusionment and disappointment. Though, admittedly, both emotions were difficult to shake off.
    With a wistful sigh, she cleaned up, made dinner for one and then went to bed early with a sci-fi book, not trusting herself with a romance novel. She might end up fantasizing about the sexy cowboy staying downstairs…and wouldn’t that be all bad and wrong?
    She rose before the sun the next morning, but didn’t see the menu selection for breakfast hanging on Caleb’s door. Peering out one of the many windows in the living room, she noticed no other vehicle than her own. She’d heard his SUV pull into the drive around eleven p.m., just before she’d drifted off to sleep. Apparently he’d decided to get an early start out at the Painted Horse this morning, right as dawn turned into a cloudless day.
    In the kitchen, she discovered he’d taken a few scones with him for breakfast. He’d also left her his credit card with a note.
    R., Took some pastries—hope you don’t mind. Don’t forget to charge me for the room. Nadine told me your going rate and I’m fine with that for the month. C.
    She set the credit card next to the machine, but didn’t run it. A nightly charge would add up to quite a bit and she didn’t feel comfortable with the sum. She’d have to figure out a more reasonable price. It was just a room, for God’s sake. Not a suite at the Plaza Hotel.
    Her curiosity about her guest from Dallas mounted as she entered his room to tidy up—and found it in almost the same orderly state as before he’d moved in. Though he hadn’t yet unpacked his bags, he’d made his bed and everything else was in its rightful place. Even the bathroom was neat and organized.
    If he kept this up, her housekeeping services would be extremely light. One more reason she needed to adjust the rental rate.
    With a shake of her head, she headed out the back door to finish her landscaping. Once completed, she went upstairs to shower and dress for dinner. At seven o’clock, she left the house and stood on the front porch. George Mills, Jess’ husband, honked the horn of his car as he turned onto the cobblestone entryway to her property. They were carpooling to dinner, since the Mills lived down the street.
    George drove them into town and parked in the lot next to Pietro’s Fine Dining. The establishment made a mockery of its own name, since there was no Italian chef named Pietro in Wilder, nor would anyone associate with fine dining the flatware rolled in paper napkins, the brown, plastic cups, and the vinyl, red-and-white-checkered tablecloths. But hands down, the food couldn’t be beat.
    Pulling the door open, George stood back and let everyone inhale the rich aroma wafting their way. Reese’s stomach growled in a very unladylike fashion. Always the reaction to the creations of the chef and owner, Mike Jones. His wife Ruby manned the hostess podium and also doubled as a server when it got busy. Which was pretty much all the time.
    She was a lively sort, with red hair and a robust figure. Known for her surly wit and her homemade aprons with zany sayings on them—this evening’s black one insisting “Surrender to the Sausage” in white block letters—she was one of Wilder’s most beloved characters.
    Reese sniffed the air again, her ability to dissect ingredients and spices with a very keen nose being an uncanny one. “Please tell me tonight’s special is Lasagna Bolognese.”
    “Can’t fool you,” Ruby said.
    Clearly Tommy had, but she refused to dwell on that this evening.
    “I have your table ready. The others are here. Care for menus?”
    “Special,” Reese told her, her mouth practically