Sweet Texas Fire Read online

  Sweet Texas Fire

  Sweet Texas Secrets, Book 2

  Nicole Flockton

  Avon, Massachusetts

  Copyright © 2016 by Nicole Flockton.

  All rights reserved.

  This book, or parts thereof, may not be reproduced in any form without permission from the publisher; exceptions are made for brief excerpts used in published reviews.

  Published by

  Crimson Romance

  an imprint of F+W Media, Inc.

  10151 Carver Road, Suite 200

  Blue Ash, OH 45242. U.S.A.

  www.crimsonromance.com

  ISBN 10: 1-4405-9552-6

  ISBN 13: 978-1-4405-9552-3

  eISBN 10: 1-4405-9551-8

  eISBN 13: 978-1-4405-9551-6

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, corporations, institutions, organizations, events, or locales in this novel are either the product of the author's imagination or, if real, used fictitiously. The resemblance of any character to actual persons (living or dead) is entirely coincidental.

  Cover art © 123RF/tspider, © romancenovelcovers.com.

  To Marcy Schuler – you were taken from us too soon. Thank you for your cheerleading and support of the romance community. I’m going to miss you and your flaming marshmallow.

  Thank you for purchasing a Crimson Romance novel. Please sign up for our weekly newsletter for information on new releases, contests, discounts and more.

  Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Dedication

  CHAPTER 1

  CHAPTER 2

  CHAPTER 3

  CHAPTER 4

  CHAPTER 5

  CHAPTER 6

  CHAPTER 7

  CHAPTER 8

  CHAPTER 9

  CHAPTER 10

  CHAPTER 11

  CHAPTER 12

  CHAPTER 13

  CHAPTER 14

  CHAPTER 15

  CHAPTER 16

  CHAPTER 17

  CHAPTER 18

  CHAPTER 19

  CHAPTER 20

  CHAPTER 21

  CHAPTER 22

  CHAPTER 23

  CHAPTER 24

  CHAPTER 25

  Acknowledgments

  More from This Author

  Also Available

  CHAPTER 1

  Gage Cooper drummed his fingers on the armrest as the plane taxied toward the gate. He wasn’t used to the slow crawl of a commercial flight. Unfortunately, his jet was undergoing some routine maintenance. He’d needed to get back to Houston in a timely matter and couldn’t wait the extra eight hours it would take for his plane to be ready.

  At least he was able to get a ticket in first class at the last minute.

  “Is there anything I can get you once we finish taxiing, Mr. Cooper?” The sultry voice of the flight attendant, who’d been trying her best to flirt with him the whole flight, pulled his attention from his internal thoughts.

  He knew the attendant wasn’t inquiring whether he wanted some peanuts for the walk down the tunnel to the terminal. On any other given day, he might be tempted to take her up on the offer. Right at this moment, he had business hassles popping up every three minutes.

  “Thank you, but no, I’m fine.” He turned to look out the window, relieved to see the plane pulling up to the gate. He undid his seat belt before the plane stopped. He wanted to be first in line to collect his luggage and then get into a cab.

  While another flight attendant welcomed everyone to Houston, Gage was reaching into the overhead locker to take out his carry-on and laptop bag. As he waited for them to open the doors, he grabbed his phone out of his pocket and checked his e-mails. Hopefully, no more drama had cropped up while he’d been in the air from Midland to Houston. Quickly thumbing through his in-box, nothing seemed like it needed his immediate attention.

  Relief swept through him. He’d spent the last month dealing with the unenviable task of reducing the output on some of his rigs due to the downturn in oil prices. Not to mention the petty environmental issues he’d had thrust on him over the last few months as well by his nemesis, Charlotte Wilkinson. He’d never had problems in the past with the environmental agency he’d always worked with. That was, until Charlotte began working for Gold Star Eco and started investigating the deals his company worked on. So what if the other guy hadn’t been anal about compliance issues. Charlotte focused all her attention on his company now and made the process a nightmare. He was sure she’d found the most obscure plant in the world that needed protecting on his site in Midland. Didn’t she know how much money he would lose if he had to move his rig even one foot from the original plan? He knew he needed to care about the environment, but her almost tyrannical approach to protecting something no one had heard of made him want to pull his hair out.

  And now she owned the piece of land he’d thought was his.

  Finally, the doors opened and he stalked out of the plane, giving the flight attendants a cursory nod. Making his way down the tunnel, he ignored the constant beeping of his phone from more e-mails coming in. He almost gave in to the temptation to turn it off again. He needed to keep his mind clear so he could formulate his plan to confront Charlotte and demand to know what spell she’d cast over his father.

  His phone rang as he climbed into a cab after waiting for what seemed like forever to get his luggage. He pulled the device from his pocket, glancing at the screen to see his brother’s name.

  “Hey, Gray. What’s up?”

  “I still don’t control Guac Olé.”

  Gage suppressed a sigh. If he’d had it tough over the last month since the reading of his father’s will, Grayson had it worse, expecting to inherit controlling share of the company he’d loved as much as his father had. His older brother ended up with nothing but a strawberry charm.

  “And I don’t have the land I could do with right now, seeing as the price of oil has tanked in the last few months.” What Gage did have was a key and twenty five percent of a company he didn’t want.

  “What was the old man thinking?” Grayson lamented. “He knew what we expected to receive. Hell, he told me not two weeks before he died that everything was sorted out and that all of us would be happy with the contents of his will.”

  “I know. Have you spoken to Gavin? Has he worked out what the glasses he inherited mean?”

  “Don’t know, he’s been somewhat occupied with other things. If he did work it out, he hasn’t mentioned anything to me. What about the key? Any luck there?”

  “No. The key is still a mystery to me.”

  Gage had spent some of the time while he was away visiting his rigs Googling images of keys to see if he could find something that matched the one his father had left him. He gave up when his vision started going blurry after the tenth page. Nothing seemed to match the elaborately ornate key with its thin, round blade and two-pronged tip. The key looked like it belonged in a fairy tale rather than in his possession. He could only assume it was custom-made to fit a unique lock.

  He had no idea where to start looking for the lock it would fit into. There had to be something Dad wanted him to find. But what that thing was, he had no idea.

  One thing he did know—he really didn’t want to have this conversation in a cab. “I’ve got to go, Gray. I’ll give you a call later on tonight.”

  “Wait. I actually wanted to find out if you were free to come into the office tomorrow.”

  “Not sure. It’s not like it’s down the road for me. I’ll have to check my schedule. I don’t know what Dana’s organized for me. It’s my first full day back in the office after being out for a month. What time were you thinking?”

  “Why don’t we make it for drinks and then dinner? That way
you can try to clear as much as possible off your desk and drive down to Sweet Ridge. Let me know if that works.”

  “Okay, I’ll send you a text once I know for sure.”

  “Great. See you, Gage.”

  “Bye, Gray.”

  Gage disconnected the call. He rested against the headrest and closed his eyes. He was still trying to come to terms with his father’s death. He’d left Houston the day after the meeting with Dad’s lawyer. The only emotion he’d felt then was anger. And he’d had plenty of time over the last month for the anger to simmer below the surface.

  The cab’s slowing pulled him from his reverie. There was the familiar sight of his building just beyond the traffic lights.

  Home sweet home.

  More like a place to rest his head between trips. The condo could never be called a home. He’d worked in so many different locations that he’d lost the sense of what a home should be. A place where everything was happy, like the family sitcoms he’d watched as a teenager. Oh, the house he’d grown up in had been a home, when their mother had been alive. Even though, with the hindsight of an adult, he now recognized the tension between his parents.

  Grayson reached into his pocket and pulled out his wallet as the cab came to a halt. He passed the driver enough cash for the fare and a tip, got out of the car, and walked into the foyer of his condo’s building, nodded to the doorman, and made his way to the bank of elevators.

  Screw thinking about happy families. He needed to focus on his upcoming meeting. He had to make sure he had all the facts … well, what he thought were the facts.

  It wasn’t going to be a pleasant meeting. He’d never met Charlotte Wilkinson. With the way she sounded on the phone with her hoity-toity British accent, she was probably a scorned middle-aged woman. No a doubt divorcée who hated all men. It was the only explanation he could come up with for the way she expected his company to kowtow to the petty environmental issues she always highlighted in her e-mails and reports to him.

  Now he had another reason to be angry with her. What had she done to Dad to convince him to bequeath the house and surrounding ten acres of land outside of Sweet Ridge to her? Land he knew held a decent oil deposit beneath its surface. Had she blackmailed him? Claimed to be a long-lost daughter? Or worse, had she seduced his father? He shuddered at the thought. He hoped his father was smarter than getting sucked in by a woman. Or women, considering the contents of his will.

  He’d started visiting Sweet Ridge, Texas, in the months prior to his father’s death to try to mend their broken relationship. They’d talked about the past, sorted through some of the mistakes he’d made. There had still been more he’d wanted to say to Dad. He’d thought they’d reached an understanding. They’d even discussed Dad leaving the land to Gage.

  Did Dad still not trust him?

  He ran a successful business. He’d obtained his college degree while working his ass off doing the hard work on oil rigs in places no one would want to go to.

  He’d worked for everything he had. His bank account was probably as substantial, if not more, as his father’s had been. Hadn’t he proved to Dad he wasn’t that kid anymore? The one who’d acted impulsively without thinking about the consequences. The kid who believed the world owed him because of his prowess on the football field.

  He’d changed, and it burned him that Dad didn’t think he deserved the land. He’d told Dad what he planned to do with it. How the profits from pulling the black gold out of the ground would be more than he’d ever make from guacamole—even though the guacamole plant had provided Dad and his family with a very good lifestyle. Dad had seemed excited.

  Now Gage knew it had been an act and Dad never planned on leaving him the land at all.

  The land had been the first piece of property their father had bought, but for some reason he’d never lived in the house on the property. The family hadn’t even gone there for the odd weekend away, like a family fun mini-vacation. Still, the land abutted a stretch of bush that was great for hunting deer, so before Gage had left for college, he’d spent a weekend there with his football buddies. One last hurrah before they all headed off to college, all with dreams of making the big time.

  No. He wasn’t going to think about that. How he’d been so arrogant and confident. How he hadn’t given any thought to what going to college on a full football scholarship really meant. How it didn’t matter if you were the star player on the team.

  You break the rules, you’re out.

  His phone buzzed with the reminder that his meeting was going to take place in thirty minutes. He needed to get his head in the game. No way was he going to let Charlotte cause any more delays on his oil fields. And he was going to get back the land that was rightfully his.

  No matter what it took.

  CHAPTER 2

  Charlotte Wilkinson straightened the pile of files on the right-hand corner of her desk. A tidy desk equaled a tidy mind, her father’s edict floated through her subconscious. She needed to be focused for the upcoming meeting with Gage Cooper.

  She’d developed a picture of him, the owner of a successful oil company, in her mind. He wore a white leisure suit with cowboy boots, a big cowboy hat covering his gray hair, and he had a cigar perched in the corner of his mouth. Gage Cooper no doubt looked a lot like Colonel Sanders.

  And she’d have to control the urge to bust out laughing if he did look like the king of fried chicken. She had no idea why he’d called the meeting today. All their previous interactions had been through e-mail and heated phone calls. And on a couple of those phone calls she’d had to advise him that if he yelled at her one more time, she’d hang up. There was no way he was going to talk her into backing down from protecting the land around his oil fields.

  A knock sounded on her door. “Yes,” she called out.

  The company’s office assistant opened the door. “There’s a Mr. Gage Cooper here to see you.” Meredith’s eyebrows waggled when she said Gage’s name.

  Charlotte rolled her eyes and smiled. “Show him in. Thanks, Meredith.”

  “You can go right in now, Mr. Cooper,” Meredith all but simpered, and Charlotte couldn’t help but wonder what Gage thought of Meredith’s attempt at flirting. If he was like most males hitting their late fifties, he would lap up the attention.

  Charlotte took a deep breath, the better to control any threat of laughter when she clapped eyes on Gage Cooper for the first time.

  “Ms. Wilkinson, thank you for seeing me today,” he drawled in a Texan accent.

  She looked up from the map she grabbed so she would look busy when Gage walked into her office. Her mouth dropped open. She couldn’t help it. Colonel Sanders would’ve been a much better option to deal with than the man standing in front of her.

  Oh shit.

  Gage Cooper couldn’t be more than a couple of years older than her. How could a man who looked barely thirty be the owner of a successful oil company? Why, oh why, couldn’t he have a beer gut instead of a flat stomach, which, in all likelihood, sported a six-pack—and not of the beer variety. No receding hairline hidden underneath a cowboy hat, either. There was no cowboy hat in sight. He had a full head of dark brown hair that curled slightly over his ears. The five o’clock shadow on his face enhanced his high cheekbones, and his lips, full and no doubt tempting when he stretched them into a smile. At present they were pulled in a straight line, like he was annoyed at what he saw.

  Indignation rose within her. She wasn’t going to be judged because she was following protocol on ensuring the environment was protected.

  Taking the bull by the horns, she stood and walked around her desk, holding out her hand. “Good afternoon, Mr. Cooper. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.”

  Gage looked at her outstretched hand and then back at her face—dear God, he wouldn’t leave her hanging, like the loser kid who held her hand up to the star football player to get a high-five, only to be ignored, would he? A second later her hand was engulfed by his large, warm one. He gripped h
er hand tightly before releasing it quickly and giving his hand a jiggle before placing it in his pants pocket. If her own hand hadn’t been pulsating with pinpricking sensations, she’d take it as a personal slight.

  “Please take a seat.” She indicated one of her guest chairs before rounding her desk and sitting in her own chair. “I have to say I was a little surprised at your request for a meeting, Mr. Cooper. Especially since our main interactions have been via the phone or e-mail.”

  He leaned forward; she sat back a little in her chair.

  “Gage, please. I think we’ve had enough discussions for you to call me by my first name. And I thought it was time we met face-to-face. It’s a much better way to discuss business, don’t you think? You have an intriguing accent, Charlotte. Is it British?”

  “Australian. But you’re not the first person to mistake me for being British.”

  “My apologies.”

  She inclined her head to accept his apology and waited for him to continue. His own accent was smooth and sexy. It could easily make her forget that the man sitting in front of her had been rude and obnoxious, when she had only been doing her job. She understood the need to get the oil from the ground, but there was no need for him not to protect the surrounding environment. He told her on many occasions he liked to think he was doing things the correct way. To a certain extent he was, but she could make him do a better job.

  The silence stretched between them. It almost looked like Gage was testing her. But she’d grown up with three brothers. She had plenty of patience and fortitude when dealing with the way a male mind worked. However, she didn’t intend to spend the rest of her day in a Mexican standoff with this man.

  “How’d you do it?” he asked, as she was about to open her mouth and ask him exactly why he was in her office.

  “How did I do what?”

  “Did you sleep with him to get it?”

  What the hell? Get what? And to suggest that she’d slept with somebody to achieve it was the most insulting thing Gage Cooper could say.