Rex (Texas Rascals Book 10) Read online

  Rex

  Texas Rascals Book 10

  Lori Wilde

  Contents

  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

  Epilogue

  Excerpt: Handsome Rancher

  About the Author

  Also by Lori Wilde

  1

  Mrs. Rex Michael Barrington.

  Idly, Sophia Shepherd doodled across the yellow legal notepad and gave a heartfelt sigh.

  Four months into her new job as assistant to the executive vice president of Barrington Oil and Gas at the home office in Rascal, Texas, and she had yet to even meet her boss, but boy, did she have a crush on him.

  Yes, she knew it wasn’t a good idea to fall for her boss, but it was hard to argue with her heart. Although, in reality, she knew little about the man beyond his sexy telephone voice, professional attitude, and sharp business acumen.

  Mrs. Sophia Barrington.

  She added a flourish to the Mrs. Call her old-fashioned, but she loved the idea of taking her potential husband’s name.

  And while it might be dicey falling for her boss in this day and age, her three best girlfriends, Sienna, Amber, and Polly had all fallen in love with their bosses, and things had gone so well it threw Sophia’s imagination into overdrive.

  Could she, too, marry her boss?

  Love was definitely in the air. Amber had already wed Lucas Hunter, and Sienna was due to walk down the aisle with Jeff Henderson in November, while Polly and Liam Wilson had just gotten engaged.

  Was it too much to hope that some of that magical stardust might one day settle upon her, bringing into her life the same happiness her friends had discovered?

  Of course, her three friends had a distinct advantage over her. They’d actually known their bosses while Sophia had a crush on a man she’d never even met in person.

  Although Rex’s picture was prominent on the company’s website, it was an old photograph, and she couldn’t find a more updated one despite frequent Google searches.

  In his personal life, Rex didn’t have a social media presence. And that meant no photos of him in more relaxed settings. According to the internet, he was all business, which was frustrating, but she admired his discretion and his work ethic.

  Yet, she knew he had a lighter side. He had a great sense of humor and often texted her funny—but completely appropriate—gifs and memes. They talked on the phone daily, about business, of course.

  But at least once a week, Mr. Barrington—although Sophia liked to think of him as Rex, even if she didn’t dare call him that—praised her efficiency and informed her she was the best assistant he’d ever had.

  And just last week he’d told her that when he returned to the home office in Texas, after being in Brazil for the past ten years, he’d fly her to their main headquarters in Houston for his father’s big retirement party, and afterward, he would take her out to dinner at a five-star restaurant to show his appreciation.

  Dinner with Rex Barrington?

  Sophia’s toes curled at the prospect. She couldn’t have been more excited if a movie star had asked her out. Dreamily, she closed her eyes and allowed her fantasies full rein. They’d dine at White Swan in downtown Houston where the executives from Barrington Oil and Gas took their wealthiest clients. They’d drink Dom Perignon, nibble on tenderloin medallions cooked in mushroom wine sauce, and have cherries jubilee for dessert.

  Afterward, Rex would invite her for a late-night stroll along the nearby lake. Demurely, she’d agree. They’d step outside into the warm night air. He’d take her hand, and his grip would be strong and comforting.

  They’d walk for several minutes, and he’d tell her his plans for their future, his sexy voice rolling over her like heated body oil. The moon would be bright and full, bathing them in an ethereal glow.

  Rex would tell her how much he admired her and how much he trusted her with his life. Sophia would respond in kind, telling him he was the most industrious, responsible, empowering boss she’d ever worked for. Rex would stop and gently draw her into the curve of his arm.

  His heavenly smell, an expensive men’s cologne, would intoxicate her senses. She’d catch her breath and look up into those dark eyes, as deep brown as a Hershey’s Chocolate Kiss.

  “Sophia.” Rex would whisper her name in that throaty baritone, and she would tumble helplessly under his spell. “I can’t tell you how much you’ve come to mean to me over the past few months.”

  “But, Rex,” she would protest, but ever so slightly, “we’ve only just met face-to-face.”

  “That’s not important,” he would say. “And although you are a beautiful woman, your looks are the least of it. I’ve discovered the real you over the phone and through your witty texts. I trust you, Sophia Shepherd. Truly, deeply, as I’ve never trusted another.”

  “Oh, Rex.” She’d sigh, and he’d sweep her against his chest. His lips would come down on hers in a haunting, soul-searching kiss. A tender kiss that would make her feel comfortable, safe, and secure. A kiss that held promises of happily ever after.

  “Good morning, Sophia.”

  Ripped from her delicious daydream, Sophia jerked her attention to the doorway.

  Mike Barr, a new hire who worked in building maintenance, lounged seductively against the doorjamb, his hips cocked forward in a nonchalant slouch, a come-hither grin curling the corners of his lips and a daring twinkle sparking in his green eyes.

  His longish dark-brown hair sexily mussed, as if he just whisked off his Stetson before coming into the room. He wore faded Wranglers and a plaid western shirt that couldn’t camouflage his muscular biceps.

  He possessed a voice almost as deep as her boss’, but where Rex spoke in a commanding rush, Mike, the office handy, let his words drip off his tongue like heated molasses, and he dished up compliments as readily as he changed the light bulbs.

  Despite her best intentions to the contrary, Sophia experienced a hot rush of desire instantly replace the lingering sweetness of her fantasy about her boss. Darn it! What was it about Mike that so stirred her blood when she didn’t want it to?

  “Good morning, Mike,” Sophia replied evenly, refusing to give him a clue to the hot desire running through her whenever she was around him. The man need never know that although her heart belonged to Rex Michael Barrington, her fickle body seemed to prefer the cowboy handyman’s outdoorsy good looks.

  Sure, Mike was the sexiest thing on two legs. Nobody could deny that. But when a girl looked at him, what she saw was what she got.

  A handsome guy with no ambitions to climb higher. A guy who might be great for a few weeks of carefree adventure, but one that would falter in a long-term relationship. A footloose guy who was here one minute and gone the next with nary a serious thought for what the future might hold.

  No, Sophia could not afford to let Mike know that she found him attractive. Because that’s all it was, she assured herself. Physical attraction. Erotic longings founded on lust and nothing more.

  What she felt for Mike was the exact opposite of her feelings for Rex. Now there was a guy you could count on. Harvard educated, hardworking, energetic, take-charge, absolutely nothing like the lackadaisical, play-today-don’t-worry-about-tomorrow Mike.

  He reminded her of the old fable of the ant and the grasshopper. Rex was the ant, Mike the grasshopper. With the grasshopper you
might have a heady summer filled with fun but come winter you’d starve to death, and Sophia had experienced more than enough lean winters in her life, thank you very much.

  “How are you, Miss Sophia?” Mike drawled lazily, his steady gaze flicking over her as hot and dry as the bright Trans-Pecos sunshine swelling through the plantation shutters and flooding the carpet with dappled lighting.

  Unnerved, she placed her tablet computer over the damning legal pad in front of her. She was afraid Mike might see her doodles and discover her secret crush on her boss. She couldn’t risk office gossip.

  “What can I do for you?”

  His grin widened, and instantly Sophia realized her poor choice of words.

  “The question is, what can I do for you?” He moved across the room, lethal as a leopard, his smooth movements so mesmerizing, she barely noticed the brown paper package cradled loosely in the crook of his arm.

  “Excuse me?” Gulping, she stared, transfixed on his broad chest. Whenever he loped into the room, it was as if her brain flew straight out the window.

  “I brought something for you.” Mike extended the package toward Sophia. “Since I was coming up here to change the toner cartridge in your printer, the mail runner asked me to bring this up.”

  “Oh.” She accepted the package.

  With her utility scissors, she snipped away the string. The package had her name on it, but there was no return address. Odd. It had been mailed in Rascal and postmarked the previous day.

  Mike stayed, boldly watching her.

  “Is there something else?” Sophia looked up.

  His gaze crashed into hers. The man was brash and sexy and dangerous. If she weren’t careful, her heart could end up as so much carnage on the emotional highway of runaway lust. But she didn’t buy into the romantic notion of the bad boy cured by a good woman’s love.

  A perilous myth indeed.

  Mike’s eyes crinkled at the corners. “While I’m here, is there anything else that needs my attention before I head out on lunch break?”

  Sophia recognized a stalling technique when she saw one. Mike was snooping, waiting to see what was in the package. “I’m good.”

  “You sure?”

  “Uh-huh.” A bit of perspiration beaded on her upper lip. She rolled her chair away from him, and the wheels squeaked.

  “I could grease that for you.” He lowered his eyelids…and his voice.

  She didn’t know if he meant that seductively or not, but it sure sounded like it. “Er…”

  He took a small can of WD-40 from the toolbelt at his waist. “Hop up.”

  Cripes! Why did her body break out in tingly patches whenever she was around him? She got up, so he could oil the chair.

  He bent over, giving her a great view of his backside As he greased the squeaky wheel.

  “Speaking of lunch,” he said, straightening.

  “No one was speaking of lunch.”

  “I was.”

  “Oh.”

  “Wondering if...”

  Please, don’t let him ask me out, she prayed, terrified she couldn’t say no.

  “You’d like to grab a bite to eat with me.”

  “I don’t think so.” Sophia shook her head and gave him a slight smile. Nothing encouraging. Pure politeness. “But thank you for asking.”

  Purposefully, she sat down and returned her attention to the computer screen. Conversation over, dude, bye.

  Mike didn’t take the hint. He ran a hand through his hair and drawled, “May I ask you a personal question?”

  She gave a soft sigh. “If I’m not obligated to answer it.”

  His grin widened. “Fair enough.”

  “What is it?”

  “Are you seeing anyone? I’ve asked around the office, and no one seems to know. You’re quite secretive about your private life, Sophia Shepherd.”

  That’s because she didn’t have a private life!

  “No mystery.” She smiled gently, not wanting to hurt his feelings with a blunt rejection. He was a nice enough guy, even if he wasn’t her type. “I don’t date people I work with. Too many complications.”

  She swung her arm around to take another crack at unwrapping the package and to keep her eyes off Mike.

  Her finger caught the edge of the tablet that was hiding her doodles on the legal pad, and she accidentally knocked it across the desk. The tablet skittered and landed on the floor.

  “I’ll get that for you,” Mike said.

  “No, don’t bother.” Quickly, she hurried around the desk, eager to keep him from seeing the embarrassing doodles, but Sophia was too slow.

  Mike scooped the tablet from the floor and returned it to her desk. One eyebrow arched, and he cocked his head, his eyes fixed on what she’d scrawled on the notepad.

  She crossed her arms over her chest and stared pointedly at her screen saver—a picture of an inquisitive Siamese kitten in a basket of red yarn—and struggled to stay the heated flush burning across her cheeks.

  Without saying a word, Mike changed her toner cartridge and strolled toward the door. But he hesitated at the threshold and cast a backward glance over his shoulder at her.

  “Be careful what you wish for, Miss Sophia,” he cautioned. “Because you just might get it.”

  Sophia watched his back as he sauntered away, helplessly noticing how well his Wranglers cupped his firm, cowboy tushy. What did he mean by that?

  “Forget Mike,” she mumbled and returned her attention to the package.

  The brown paper crinkled in her hands. She picked up her scissors again and sliced through to the cardboard box underneath wrapped in festive birthday paper.

  Sophia smiled. This morning, her mother had given her a birthday card and the crimson scarf she wore knotted about her neck, but no one else in the building had yet wished her a happy birthday.

  One of her friends must have sent a gift, even though she didn’t like people making a big deal over her birthday. She’d never cared for parties or fanfare.

  Today, she turned twenty-nine.

  She’d always figured she’d be married by twenty-nine with a baby or two. The only thing she’d ever really wanted was a family of her own.

  But she’d yet to meet Mr. Right. She longed for a good and loyal man who would provide the secure stable life she’d missed from her childhood.

  A man who would not lie to her the way her father had lied to her mother. A kindhearted man with strong family values.

  In Sophia’s experience, there weren’t many such men in the world. Most guys she’d dated were like Mike, the office maintenance man, overgrown boys looking for someone to take care of them while they ran around having a good time. No thank you.

  Sophia removed the rest of the wrapping paper and opened the box. Inside, she found a glass paperweight in the shape of a gray, sloe-eyed kitten.

  How sweet! Someone knew how much she adored kittens. Which of her friends had sent it? Was it Polly? She had access to personnel records and could easily uncover Sophia’s birthdate.

  Curious, she peered inside the empty box but did not find a card.

  Turning the paperweight over in her hand, Sophia admired the smooth lines of the figurine. On the bottom, she discovered an inscription that read: To the World’s Greatest Executive Assistant. Happy Birthday.

  Her heart thumped. Blood rushed to her head, and her skin prickled. Sophia was so touched by the thoughtful gesture, her eyes misted, and a lump rose to her throat. It had to be from Rex.

  But wait, the postmark said it was from Rascal, and Rex was in Brazil. Unless… Sophia caught her breath… Rex had finally come home!

  Thrilled, she leapt from her chair, clutched the precious paperweight in her hand, and tore down the hallway after Mike.

  2

  Why had seeing Mrs. Rex Michael Barrington scribbled over Sophia’s notepad affected him so viscerally?

  Disappointed, Mike shook his head.

  He supposed his disenchantment stemmed from believing she was di
fferent. But seeing his real name doodled on her notepad yanked him up short.

  Was Sophia Shepherd as shallow as the other women who chased him? Fortune hunters and gold diggers more interested in the size of a man’s wallet than what was in his heart.

  Saddened, he stepped into the elevator and pressed the button for the basement floor and the maintenance office, Sophia’s old toner cartridge still in his hand. He could still smell her perfume. Something fresh and floral. Wildflowers. Sweet, bright, and full of sunshine.

  With women, he was normally bold and self-confident, but whenever he got around Sophia, he felt like an inept birdbrain. He fumbled, he stumbled; he stuck his foot in his mouth and said dumb things he didn’t mean.

  Mike sighed. Too bad he was gaga over her. A woman as beautiful as Sophia could never be interested in a simple cowboy who worked in the maintenance department.

  Unfortunately.

  Mike shrugged aside the regret. He’d expected so much more from her. Hell, he’d hoped...

  Yes, stupidly, he’d hoped.

  He knew the way the world really worked. Had known for most of his thirty-six years. Even though Sophia was attracted to him, the doodling on her notepad was proof enough. Sophia Shepherd was angling to land herself a billionaire.

  A billionaire she’d never even met.

  Obviously, it didn’t matter to her what kind of person Rex was. Her only requirement? That he possessed a large bank account.

  The elevator door slid open.

  Head down, Mike stepped out and strolled through the corridor toward the maintenance office. Behind him, he heard the second set of elevators give a muted ping as it, too, opened at the basement level.

  “Mike.” Breathlessly, Sophia dashed after him, calling his name and waving her hand. The bangle bracelets at her wrist jangled merrily. “Mike, please wait up.”