“But your scholarship?”
He shook his head. “I didn’t need it then. Not like—”
He stopped, but she knew what he’d almost said. In high school he’d been a poor kid in a foster home until the state turned him loose at eighteen. Then he’d been on his own and needed that scholarship if he wanted a chance at a higher education. That’s why she’d been so stunned when he gave it up.
“So you went to college?” She leaned back against the counter and folded her arms over her chest. A large space separated them, but it wasn’t enough to blunt the force of his appeal. Or the way he could stir up her emotions without even trying.
“Yeah.” He set his tea on the ceramic tile beside him. “I got my degree in business from UCLA. Then I started R&R Development.”
“I’ve heard of it,” she said. The only thing she hadn’t heard was that he owned it.
“You have?”
She nodded. “I read the business section of the paper every day. Your company has been mentioned a couple of times for projects pending here in Texas. By all accounts it’s a company to watch.”
“I’m working on it,” he said. “But I missed the rodeo.”
“Who wouldn’t? Everyone should be stomped into the dirt by an angry bull at least once a day.”
She couldn’t help laughing and he joined her. Rewind ten years—to before everything had gone wrong. That’s how she felt. Putty in his hands. For just an instant. Just until she shut it down cold. She didn’t ever want to go there again. She was through loving men who loved someone else.
“How did you get sucked into volunteering?” she asked.
“That’s an interesting choice of words.”
Not really, she wanted to say. He was young, a hunk and a half, so many buckle bunnies, so little time. She wanted to say she knew him, at least she had. Ten years ago he was a loner who didn’t play well with others. The high school coaches had courted him for team sports but he’d turned them down flat in favor of bull riding. But she didn’t say anything. She just looked at him.
“Okay.” He crossed one booted foot over the other as he continued to lean against the tiled countertop. “Dev Hart called me.”
“Really?”
Dev had a ranch in Destiny and had taken over the stock business from his father. He supplied animals to rodeos all over the country. He and Mitch had rodeoed together in high school. She and Dev were friends.
“Yeah. We’ve kept in touch. The association was in a real bind when the commissioner resigned. Work and family obligations he said. I don’t have those.” He let the sentence hang there. “Dev thought I might be interested in helping out. Since I have business dealings in the area.”
So he wasn’t married. All the willpower in the world couldn’t prevent her insides from doing the dance of joy. But she got the feeling there was more, a still deeper reason. “And?”
“He put the bite on me. It’s no big deal, just temporary. I wouldn’t have agreed to a permanent position.”
“Dev must have had some clue that you would even consider doing it.”
“I guess he did.”
“So what was it?”
“He knew rodeo saved my life.”
Mitch wasn’t sure what had made him say that, especially when he saw the surprised look on Taylor’s face. She tried to hide it, and he found it amazingly appealing that she couldn’t.
There was something about being back in Destiny. More specifically back in this room with Taylor Stevens. He’d been telling the truth when he’d said that he’d hardly known her at first. She had changed—in all the right places. Her light brown hair was shoulder-length and the layers were streaked with gold highlights. Brown eyes full of spirit and intelligence challenged him. She’d been just a kid the last time he’d seen her. That night—
The longer he stood in this kitchen, back on the Circle S, talking to Jen’s little sister, the more he remembered. Feelings washed over him—frustration, yearning, anger that burned into rage and a feeling of helplessness that he rode like a broken-in saddle.
“Saved your life?”
“You know as well as I do that I’m a kid no one wanted.” Not even your sister, he thought. “I could have gone either way.”
“I know your background.”
“That’s a polite way of saying my father walked out before I took my first breath on earth and my mother took off with a construction worker when I was ten.”
“I bet no one’s used that nickname in a long time.”
“Riffraff?”
Why was she bringing all this up? he thought angrily. Taylor already knew and he’d spent all his life trying to live that down. Didn’t make any damn sense.
“That’s the one. It’s ancient history,” she said, completely unimpressed.
He almost smiled. “Not to me. It’s who I am. But I’ve come to terms with it.” That was only half a lie. “But back then, bull riding was all I had. I was good at it.”
“You were the only person I knew who was meaner and madder than those bulls.”
He grinned. “Back then I had reason to be. But I learned some important lessons.”
When he didn’t elaborate, she said, “Don’t keep me in suspense. What did you learn?”
“Don’t nod your head unless you mean it.”
“A bull rider’s number one rule you used to say.”
“I’m surprised you remember that.”
She lifted one shoulder. “I have a good memory.”
Unlike him, he finished for her. There wasn’t much good to remember about that time. Which brought him to his other favorite rule. “I found out there’s something more important than that.”
“Which is?” she asked.
“Don’t count on anyone but yourself.”
He saw the shadow that crossed her pretty face and wondered about it. But not enough to ask. He wasn’t here to get reacquainted. Although he didn’t remember that intriguing indentation in her chin. And he couldn’t help thinking how much fun it would be to explore.
“I don’t think you learned the right lesson,” she said. “Who taught you that?”
“Your sister. Rodeo week. The night I found her having sex with Zach Adams, who just happened to be the overall point winner at the state championships.”
Chapter Two
“I didn’t know you’d found out about them like that,” she said, her already big eyes growing wider.
Mitch looked around the kitchen, anywhere but at the shocked expression on Taylor’s face. When he finally met her gaze, his irritation dissolved just enough to let a little guilt seep in. He’d wanted to shock her, he realized. Why? Because she reminded him of everything he’d worked so hard to forget? Including his shabby background? If that was the case, he’d sunk to a new low. Or was he just living up to Destiny’s low expectations? It really didn’t matter. The truth was out and he couldn’t say he was sorry—except about Taylor. There was something still innocent about her.
But he’d thought her sister was, too, and she’d thrown him over for another guy. Why would Taylor be any different? Not that it mattered. Because he wasn’t looking. But something about her appealed to him. For that reason