Against Her Odds: when dedication meets desire Read online

  “Your hair is wavy anyway.” Val frowned at Becky’s thick, shiny curls.

  “Okay, okay,” her friend said. “Don’t get upset about it.”

  “I’m not.” Realizing what her face must have looked like, she sighed. “I’m sorry. I’m still thinking about last night.”

  “The anchor desk?” Becky asked sympathetically.

  Val sighed again and rested her chin on her hand. “People get delayed at the airport all the time. Why couldn’t it happen to Steven?”

  “Keep your chin up, okay? It’s going to happen.”

  Valerie forced a smile that she didn’t feel and allowed Becky to direct the conversation elsewhere. It was better than thinking about the chili cook off she had to go and cover later. She’d been so excited to finally have her chance behind the desk that her heart had felt like it had fallen through the soles of her shoes when Steven rushed in with barely two minutes to spare, straightened his tie and slid into his desk chair, leaving her standing to the side trying not to look the way she felt. Or grab Steven by his fancy tie and strangle him.

  “Great!” the station manager had sighed in relief. “Okay, Val, head on home. You won’t have to stay after all.”

  “Sure thing,” she’d said, trying to be cheerful even as she swallowed back her annoyance in an attempt to remain professional. “You know that I’m always ready to--”

  “Quiet! Action!” one of the grips shouted, and she’d left as fast as she could.

  It hadn’t been a good day yesterday, and she was still feeling the sting. She found herself replaying her conversation with Cason once more. What was she going to wear tonight?

  Chapter Four

  Val opened the door promptly and ushered Cason into her apartment. “Right on time.”

  “I figured you’d be the type to appreciate things like that,” he said with a smile.

  “You wouldn’t be wrong.” It was actually one of her biggest pet peeves. If she could be on time, everyone else could to. She’d spent countless hours of her life waiting for her dad to show up only to have him rush in late or not at all. She made it a point to always, always, call if she was detained by work. “Come on in.”

  “You did a good job with this place. I like the art.”

  She followed his gaze around the room, looking at the place through his eyes. She wasn’t allowed to paint the walls since it was a rental, so she’d made do by hanging a lot of art prints that she’d bought at various museums.

  She had a Monet over the couch, a Van Gogh in the kitchen, and several smaller paintings by Degas scattered about both rooms. She loved his dancers. They gave a sense of movement to rooms that might have felt cramped otherwise.

  Val saw his gaze drift to the scant amount of furniture and her small television and she prepared to defend herself as “non-materialistic.” Instead she saw his lips tilt into a grin.

  “Eclectic decorating style, huh Blondie?”

  “Blondie?” she asked in surprise.

  “‘Fraid so,” Cason said. “I give everybody nicknames.”

  “I guess that’s fair enough,” Valerie admitted, slightly pleased by his choice. “But how does a cowboy know about “eclectic” decorating? I wouldn’t imagine that it’s a big deal in your line of work.”

  “This cowboy listened to his mama,” Cason said seriously, even though she saw a sparkle in his eyes. “She was a frustrated would-be interior designer, always changing something. Half the time me and the old man weren’t sure we were in the right house when we came in from the field, but it always looked nice. Then we got to hear about it at the dinner table.”

  Val listened to the way his voice softened when he talked about his mother and felt her heart go all mushy. It had been a while since she’d liked a guy so much right away. If her lecture didn’t scare him off, she had a feeling that they would have a lot of fun together.

  “Does she still decorate?” Val asked.

  “Sort of. My parents were older when they had me. They actually thought that they wouldn’t be able to have kids at all. Mama was in her forties when I came along, so they’re in their seventies now. They both live in Glistening Springs Retirement Home now. Their choice,” he hurried to say so that she didn’t think he was a heartless jerk. He had fought the decision tooth and nail, but his parents had overridden him in the end. They knew he didn't have the time to manage their care and the ranch and they were both adamant about entering the nursing home. “Not mine.”

  “I did a Christmas story there a few months ago,” Val said, to put his mind at ease. She could tell that he wasn’t the type of man to just ship his folks off when they got to be a burden. “It’s the nicest home in the state.”

  Cason nodded and shoved his hands down into his pockets. The conversation was drifting from his normal first date repertoire. He glanced around for inspiration.

  “Is that yarn?” he asked suddenly, surprised to see what looked like a half-finished blanket amid a colorful pile of yarn. “You knit?” It didn’t fit his picture of polished, elegant Valarie and that made her even sexier in his eyes.

  Val felt a sudden flush of heat rise from the collar of her shirt. “I crochet,” she admitted.

  “Crochet?”

  That was clearly something his mother didn’t do, by the confusion that spread over his face and the way he’d pronounced the word as if it were totally foreign.

  “Yes,” she said, walking over to the basket and picking up her afghan. “You can make most of the same stuff, but crochet has creepier tools.” She extracted the hook and showed it to him. “Doesn’t this look like something a dentist would threaten you with in your nightmares?”

  “I’d have to say that it does,” Cason admitted. “You’re a scary woman, Blondie.”

  “And don’t you forget it,” she said, dropping the hook back on top of the afghan and looking up at him with a sparkle in her brown eyes.

  “Is that your way of saying that we’d better get on out of here and get something to eat?” he asked, casually looping his arm over her shoulders.

  “Yep,” she said, leaning against him briefly.

  Normally she wasn’t the touchy feely type, at least not so soon, but she liked the strength in his tall body. She also loved how good he looked in his dark jeans and the long sleeved chambray shirt that he clearly considered dress clothes.

  “Well, I don’t mind hurrying,” Cason said as they walked down to his truck. “You look so good in that dress that I can’t wait for people to see me with you.”

  She smacked his arm lightly even though she knew that she was blushing again. She had decided to wear a dress that Becky had made her buy a few months ago. The wrap dress fell to nearly the knee, so that wasn’t the problem. The problem, in Val’s opinion anyway, was the pattern. It was so...eye catching.

  She had spent her entire career in neutral grays. It was better to err on the side of serious when you were a woman in journalism. This dress was not serious. For one thing, it was bright red and white, so it was about as far from neutral as a person could get. It was also cut a little bit lower than she usually wore her clothes.

  Cason helped her into the truck and she tugged the dress down modestly as she gave him a smile of thanks. He couldn’t help following the line of her legs with his eyes. Valerie wasn’t tall but she had great legs, and the red pumps she was wearing showed them off perfectly.

  He hadn’t been joking when he’d said that he couldn’t wait for people to see him with her. He hadn’t had much time for dating since taking over the ranch and helping his parents settle into their new home. It was nice to come out swinging with a woman who was both gorgeous and intelligent.

  “Is Italian okay for you?” he asked as he cranked the truck and backed out of the parking space.

  “Sure,” she answered with pleasure. “I love Italian food.”

  “Me too,” Cason answered. “I’m a good cook when it comes to plain old American food, but my pasta is always either too hard or pure mush.�
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  “Do you do most of your own cooking?” She couldn’t picture it, but she supposed it made sense. Who else was going to cook for him? She wondered if he was lonely out there all by himself. She got lonely in her apartment in the center of town.

  “Yeah,” he said with a shrug. “Unless I can get Mitch to cook for me. And, just in case you’re wondering, I never can. He did heat up some soup for me once when I broke three fingers on my right hand, but that’s about it. Oh, and his wife sends me bread twice a week. Bread isn’t my thing either.”

  “Does Mitch work for you?”

  “Sort of, but if you put it like that he might shoot me. He’s been the ranch hand ever since I can remember. He’s about ready to retire, but he won’t admit it and I’m not real sure what he’d do without Eden’s Edge to keep him busy.”

  The tone in his voice when he talked about the older ranch hand gave Val another flutter in her stomach. She’d never been the type to go crazy over cowboys. As a matter of fact, she’d always preferred guys who weren’t exactly the outdoors type, mainly because she was emphatically an indoors girl.

  Now she found herself studying his suntanned face and remembering the feel of his rough, work worn hands and really liking this particular outdoors guy. Slowly she grew more and more nervous about her upcoming speech. He probably wouldn’t like it very much. Weren’t these guys the type to want to settle down and have...well...babies and apple pie? Maybe she should have pawned him off on Becky.

  Cason noticed her rub her stomach. “Hungry?”

  She forced a smile and put her hand at her side, glad he had mistaken her nervous gesture for a hunger pang. “A little.”

  “Well, lucky for you, we’re pretty much there.” He eased the truck to a stop at a red light and pointed to the pretty Tuscan style restaurant on their left. “The advantage to living in a small town. Everything’s right at hand.”

  “Well, good,” she said, trying to keep her voice casual, even though now she was really starting to wish that she’d turned him down. This was too stressful. She was afraid that she liked him too much to say what she needed to say.

  He opened the door for her and they were seated in a small burgundy upholstered booth in a quiet back corner. The waiter lit the candles on the table and left after taking their drink orders, sweet tea for Cason and water with lemon for Val.

  Cason watched Val bite her lip as she looked over the selections. He liked the way she absently brushed her hair away from her face as she was thinking. He found his gaze drifting down to the V shaped neckline of her dress.

  She raised her eyes to his and a slight smile curved her mouth when she saw where he was looking. He gave her a smile back. He wasn’t ashamed of it. He hadn’t stared too long, and he’d be damned if he didn’t appreciate how good she made that dress look.

  “Does anything look good to you?” Val asked innocently.

  “Couple of things,” Cason admitted.

  The waiter brought their drinks and Val ordered the chicken fettuccini alfredo. Cason ordered the Tour of Italy and placed a breadstick on Val’s plate before taking one of his own.

  “Any big news lately?” he asked before breaking the bread in half and taking a bite.

  “That’s not the kind of news I handle,” Val said dryly.

  “You mean my sheep weren’t important to you?” Cason asked, pretending to be hurt. “And here I thought that we had a special moment that day.”

  “It’s not likely to get me nominated for anything,” she said, even though she had to smile at his phrasing and fake wounded look. “But that’s okay. I’ve only been at the station for a year and a half.”

  “Where were you before this?” he asked, interested.

  “Nebraska,” she said, taking a sip of her water. “I worked for their station for two years. I was in Oregon before that.”

  “Did you move around a lot as a kid?” Cason was always a little envious of people who’d traveled a lot. He didn’t really want to travel now, but he wished he’d done more of it when he was freer of responsibilities.

  “No,” Val said. “My dad did though.” When he looked sympathetic, she realized that she’d phrased that badly. “My parents weren’t divorced,” she hurried to explain. “My father was a newscaster. You may have heard of him. Aaron Turner?”

  “I probably have. I hate to admit it, but I don’t watch much of the news.”

  Val put her water glass down with a thump. “Really? Don’t you want to know what’s going on in the world?”

  “I get the big details from the paper,” he said, a little defensive in the face of her shock. “And Mitch watches like crazy, so he tells me enough to keep me up to date.”

  She held up her hands quickly, realizing she had sounded more than a little pushy. “Sorry. I get wrapped up in it, but I know it’s not as important to everyone as it was to my dad.”

  “It’s okay,” Cason said, wondering a little why she hadn’t said it was important to her too. After all, she was the one doing it. He was smart enough to know that those weren’t questions for a first date though, so he pushed the thought aside. “So, you followed in your father’s footsteps too, huh?”

  “I wish I had!” Val leaned back to allow the waiter to put her plate down in front of her. “He was a national newscaster, a foreign correspondent. He…” she trailed off, comparing her career to her father’s for the thousandth time.

  “Didn’t ask people questions about sheep?” Cason filled in with a grin.

  “Not usually,” Val agreed. “His work took him all over the world. You wouldn’t believe the stories that he covered! He taught me everything I know about being in news today. I used to sit and watch tapes of his stories until I could repeat them word for word.”

  As she spoke enthusiastically about her father, Cason couldn’t help but smile. She looked like a little girl talking about her favorite superhero. He’d looked up to his dad like that too. Hell, he still felt like the man could do anything, even from the nursing home. Suddenly her face turned serious. She cleared her throat and pressed her napkin to her lips, straightening her back. “Speaking of work…I feel like you should know that my career is...well, it’s my top priority right now. I don’t really have a lot of time for a serious relationship at this point and I don’t want you to get your hopes up. I know that sounds really conceited.” She took a deep breath and screwed up her courage once more. “But it’s true. We can date casually, if that’s what you want, but I’m not looking for anything more serious than that.”

  She took a sip of her water and waited for his reaction. She’d given this speech on every first date that she’d had since she’d left high school. Some men were fine with it. Others assumed they could change her mind. Others thought that she was saying that she was fine with having large amount of casual sex. He only waited, his dark eyes interested. For some reason, that unnerved her even more. “I’ve known what I was going to do since I was eight years old, and I need to get in on the ground floor and start moving up as soon as possible. I actually need to work even harder, since, in terms of my goals, I’m behind schedule. So I--”

  “Okay,” Cason said easily. He didn’t usually interrupt, but he had the feeling that she was only continuing to talk to protect herself from hearing his rejection. He wasn’t about to reject her. He liked her a lot. She was interesting. She was obviously smart and driven. And...he gave an internal shrug as he admitted it, she was the sexiest woman he’d ever been out with and someday he’d like to find out what she was like between the sheets. “Guess you give that speech a lot?”

  “Well, yes.” She scrutinized his face. He didn’t look upset. He also didn’t look like he thought he was going to get her into bed after dinner. He looked relaxed and slightly amused and her muscles relaxed for the first time since she’d gotten into his truck. “Just like that? Just okay?”

  “Why not?” he asked practically. “I like you. I want to get to know you.” He leaned forward, giving her his confident gri
n. “I figure I can always get on my knees and beg you to change your mind if I decide that I can’t live without you.”

  His ease and openness made her laugh with sheer relief. “I like you, Cason McDaniel,” she admitted as she twirled her pasta between her fork and spoon with expert motions.

  “Good,” he drawled, taking a sip of his tea. “Because I like you too, Blondie.”

  Chapter Five

  “I had fun tonight,” Val said, struggling to find her keys under all the junk in her purse. The clutch was too small, but a big bag would have looked ridiculous with her outfit and she still wouldn't have been able to find anything, so fashion had won out.

  He glanced down at her, wondering what she would do if he gave in and kissed her like he’d been dying to do the whole night. “Me too.”

  After the restaurant, they’d gone to a movie and he’d enjoyed the brush of her fingers against his as they both reached for the popcorn at the same time. All it did was remind him of how long it had been since he’d been close with a woman. Or maybe, he had to admit to himself, there was just something special about this woman. Just sitting next to her had had his body humming all evening. When she glanced up to tell him goodbye, he gave in to his impulse.

  His hand on the nape of her neck was gentler than she had thought that it would be. She’d barely had time to process his gentle touch when his lips caught hers in a kiss so light she wasn’t sure it was happening until he pulled back to look into her eyes.

  He traced his thumb over her full lower lip. “You okay with this?” He hoped to God she’d say yes. That small taste wasn’t going to be nearly enough.

  “Yes,” she whispered. “Yes, I think I’m more than okay with this.”

  His lips met hers again, moving slowly, coaxing a response from a kiss almost light enough to be innocent. Almost. Her legs were shaking when he drew back again.

  “Cason,” Val said suddenly.