The Billionaire Bull Rider Page 9

  After his summary, Chase looked around the hall.

  “Any questions?”

  A young man stood up. “I’ve got no issue with what you’ve said, Chase, but can we talk about the increase in traffic down Main Street? I know gasoline is my business, but I hate seeing all those coaches and huge trucks trying to force their way through the parked cars. Someone’s going to get hurt one of these days.”

  “I agree with you, Ted.” Chase nodded. “How about the rest of you?”

  A spirited discussion about loss of revenue if the town was bypassed developed between several of the shop owners, including Maureen, who owned the local store, and Daisy at the flower shop. There was also some question if the town would lose its historic route moniker if the highway no longer went through it.

  Chase took notes, and nodded as everyone talked things out, and then summarized every point.

  “He’s good,” Rio murmured to January, who was sitting on his other side. “He’s really good.”

  “I know.” She sighed happily. “And he’s all mine.”

  “I suspect we’re going to need to talk to the county about this. And maybe get an independent traffic study done.” Chase nodded. “Are you all okay if I go ahead, or does anyone have any leverage at county level? Shall we take a vote?”

  The majority went with exploring their options, and Chase suggested they break for coffee, which won a round of applause. Out of the corner of his eye, Rio noticed Yvonne coming through the door. She still wore her work uniform, and was doing something with her phone, her expression distracted.

  Beside him, January waved and pointed to the empty seat beside her. Yvonne came around the back of the hall and slipped quietly into the row.

  “Thank you. Did I miss much?”

  “I’ll catch you up, later,” January said. “Why don’t you move next to Rio while I go and help Ruth and Chase with the coffee?”

  Rio happily breathed in the scent of vanilla and chocolate that always clung to Yvonne’s slender frame as she took the seat next to him. He hadn’t seen her for a few days. Roy had hurt his back chasing his pigs, and Rio had stepped up to help out. Not that he’d stopped thinking about their very adult conversation in her kitchen, and their admirable ability to admit they didn’t have time for a relationship.

  It still sucked, though, but he couldn’t ask her to hang around and wait for another year or so while he finished out his career. She deserved better than that after being deserted by the French idiot. Not to say that he didn’t understand the pull of home. He’d been desperately unhappy when his mother had moved back to Brazil, and left him with his father in Boston.

  On several occasions, he’d tried to run away and been brought back by the police. In the end, his father had set a bodyguard on him and threatened to stop him ever seeing his mother again if he kept escaping. Seeing as the thought of being with his mom was keeping him alive, it had been enough to stop him in his tracks,

  He’d been actively discouraged from speaking Portuguese, and his mother’s staff appointments who had spoken it with him had been dismissed by Wife Number Two, who didn’t like people speaking “foreign” around her. Not that she’d been around him long enough to hear him say anything....

  * * *

  “Hey, stranger.” Yvonne nudged him in the ribs.

  “I thought you’d be pleased I’d stayed away,” he joked.

  “To be honest, I’ve been too busy to notice your absence.”

  “You wound me.” He placed his hand over his heart. “What’s up?”

  “Lizzie’s pregnant and suffering from terrible morning sickness so every so often she has to rush away from the counter, leaving yours truly to manage everything.” Yvonne sighed and leaned slightly against his shoulder. His fingers flexed with the effort not to put his arm around her. “I’ll just get started on something in the kitchen, and then I have to run and take over.”

  “Get someone in to cover for her.”

  “I’m not sure it’s worth it.” She chuckled. “The funny thing is, she’s fine ten minutes later, like nothing happened, and she assures me it won’t last long.”

  “So I understand. My mother was as sick as a dog when she was carrying me. That was when my father started to regret his decision to marry her.”

  She wrinkled her nose. “The more you tell me about your father, the less I like the sound of him.”

  “There’s nothing to like. He’s a bully.” It was his turn to sigh. “And I’ve got to go see him next week with my mom.”

  “Next week?” Yvonne dug out her phone. “What days?”

  He gave her the dates, and she checked something on her calendar. “That’s the week the production company has asked me to come in. Maybe we could travel to the city together?”

  “Fine by me.” He winked. “Hey, we could save money and room together.”

  “Nice try.” She gave him an amused look. “They’re paying for my room.”

  “Even better. I can go for free.”

  “Won’t you be staying with your mom?”

  “There is that,” he conceded. “She’d probably wonder what the hell I was doing if I didn’t show up.”

  “Then we’re all set.” She put her phone away in her large purse.

  “I’m not. I’m mourning lost opportunities.”

  She studied him for a long minute. “You’re hoping that fate will throw us together somehow?”

  “Why not? I’m a great believer in a higher power.”

  “So that we can’t resist our mutual attraction?”

  “Yes.”

  “Lame.”

  At that moment, Chase called the meeting to order again and January came back to sit on Yvonne’s other side, leaving Rio to contemplate what Yvonne had made him reveal. Was he that desperate? Was he really hoping something would push them into bed together?

  Yeah, he was.

  Then why couldn’t he man up and find a way to make things work through the usual channels? Like asking her out on a date again, or taking her to the movies?

  Chase closed his laptop and called out, “Any other business?”

  “Yes.”

  To Rio’s surprise, Yvonne stood and smiled at Chase, who motioned for her to speak.

  “I have a question. I know the ranch is struggling to fill jobs, as are a lot of small business owners in town.”

  Chase nodded. “Yes, we definitely have more jobs than applicants at the moment.”

  Several people in the audience murmured in agreement.

  “So what can we do as a community to persuade people to come and work here?” Yvonne asked.

  Nate Turner, the deputy sheriff, stood up. “One of the problems is the lack of housing around here. Some of my siblings would love to stay in the town where they were born, but there’s nowhere for them to live except at home.” His grin widened. “And, for some reason, they don’t always want to do that.”

  “So we need more affordable housing?” Chase blew out a breath. “That’s a big issue.”

  Ted Baker raised his hand. “There are several older buildings around the town that could be converted into apartments. We’d just need someone to finance the project.”

  “And administer and manage it after construction,” Chase said, his gaze going toward his business partner, Jake, who was sitting in the front row. “That’s something we can definitely look into.”

  “What about all that land up at the ranch?” Margery Hoffa, the woman who managed the Realtors next door to Yvonne’s café, added her voice. “You Morgans are rolling in money, and seeing as you caused this problem in the first place, then maybe you should be willing to have all those low-income folks on your doorstep.”

  Chase frowned. “I’m not sure how offering local people jobs is a problem, Margery, but—”

  “Maybe you should pay them more? Then they could commute in from the larger towns,” Margery persisted.

  Chase, to his credit, didn’t allow her to get a rise out of him. “Ran
ch work doesn’t really work to a nine-to-five timetable, but I take your point.”

  “I hope you do, because I don’t want outsiders changing my town and ruining the housing market for the discerning buyer.”

  “Discerning buyer? How about first-time buyer?” Nate Turner asked. “There’s almost nothing here for those guys. And what about my family, Margery, and maybe even yours, if they want to come live here again?”

  “You know that’s not what I meant, Nate.” Margery looked defiantly around the room. “Who knows what type of people you will attract if you offer cheap lodgings? And what happens when Morgantown has to deal with a whole new set of problems?”

  “We’re hardly talking about putting in thousands of new homes,” Chase objected. Rio was impressed by his calm tone. “Just enough to house local families who can’t afford to buy around here anymore, and our new workers.”

  “That might be how it starts,” Margery said darkly. “But who knows what might happen in the future? If the prices go down, my Realtor company will not stay in a ghetto.”

  A chorus of voices broke out, both agreeing and disagreeing with the subject, until Chase had to call the meeting to order again.

  “How about we find out more about this before we all go off the deep end? We can discuss it in depth next time we meet.”

  “Agreed,” Nate Turner said. “You asked the original question, Yvonne. Are you okay to do that?”

  “Absolutely.”

  She sat down, and Rio immediately noticed she was trembling.

  “Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine, thanks. It’s just sometimes people can be so narrow-minded.” She glanced over at Margery, who was still holding forth to a small group of people now gathered around her.

  “Is property expensive around here?” Rio asked.

  “It’s not cheap. We’re close enough to drive to San Francisco, Sacramento, and up to the ski resorts. All those places command a premium. I’ve known people who have commuted into one of the bigger towns every day for years. The main problem here is there just isn’t enough actual property, especially at the lower end. Lots of ranches, small towns, and inaccessible mountains.”

  “That’s a problem when you need to employ people at local rates.”

  “If all the kids grow up and have to leave to afford a place somewhere else, what happens to the town? Services vanish, schools close down, and the sense of community and family that Morgantown has provided for around one hundred and fifty years disappears.”

  “BB said that Maria will have to be bussed to school in Bridgeport because there’s no high school here anymore.”

  “Exactly. So encouraging people to stay and work within their local community is a good thing.”

  Rio smiled. “You don’t have to convince me—not that I ever got to go to school locally, but I understand the need for it.”

  “Where did you go to school, then?” Yvonne asked.

  “After my mother left, I was sent away to boarding school.”

  “When you were seven?”

  “Trust me, it was better than staying home with my father and his new wife.”

  Marginally better, but he wasn’t going to start spilling details of that ugly episode of his life in the middle of a town meeting.

  She grabbed his hand in a fierce grip. “Some people should never be allowed to have children.”

  Surprised and touched by her support, he kissed her fingers. “I survived.”

  “The childhood from hell.”

  “It wasn’t that bad. I was never abandoned. I knew my mother was out there somewhere, and that one day I’d be reunited with her.”

  “When did you first see her again?” Yvonne asked.

  “About five years after she left. My father’s lawyers blocked all her applications to see me, insisting she would take me back to Brazil with her. My father managed to find a judge who agreed with his viewpoint.” He smiled. “And he was right about that. My mother would’ve fought like a lioness to get me back over that border. At first, she had to agree to see me in San Francisco at my father’s apartment.”

  A gentle cough sounded behind Rio and he looked up, realizing that almost everyone apart from the Morgans had left the building.

  “Hey, Rio, are you coming back to the ranch, or do you and Yvonne have something else to do?” BB asked.

  Yvonne hesitated and met Rio’s gaze. “I did want to talk to you about this meeting coming up with Tasty Treats.”

  “Then I’ll walk you home, and work out how to get back to the ranch when we’re done,” Rio said as he stood and nodded at BB. “Thanks for the ride down, and I’ll see you later.”

  “Billy will be coming back to the ranch from his AA meeting around ten, so if you do need a ride, catch him in the parking lot right here.” BB winked at Yvonne and walked away.

  Yvonne let Rio into the kitchen, and waited as he carefully wiped his boots on the mat, and took them off.

  “Come on up.” She headed up the stairs and unlocked the door at the top. She’d knocked almost all the space above the café into one long, L-shaped room with a bedroom, its en suite taking up the remaining corner. The dual aspect meant the apartment was always full of light, and being above the street and traffic made it quieter than most dwellings in the town.

  She gave the place a quick once-over and grabbed a T-shirt that hung on the back of one of the dining room chairs. She’d left a bra air-drying in the bathroom, so she’d retrieve that in a minute.

  “Make yourself at home.”

  Actually, in his black cowboy hat and dark clothing, Rio looked very out of place in the pink and floral décor.

  “How about you go shower and change out of your work clothes while I make us some coffee?” Rio suggested.

  “I’d completely forgotten I had this on.” She glanced ruefully down at her black dress. “It’s been that kind of day.”

  “Then go and change.” He headed toward the kitchen. “I’ll figure it out.”

  “Okay, thanks!”

  Seeing as she had one heck of a fancy coffee machine, she wasn’t so sure he’d manage, but she was too tired to doubt him, and too impressed that he’d thought about her comfort to put up much of an argument.

  She took a quick shower and washed her hair, which always smelled of roasting coffee by the end of the day in the café. It would be much more convenient if she cut it short, but she wasn’t prepared to give up on her long hair just yet, even if the only person who ever saw it down was her.

  She put on a pair of pink cupcake pj’s and a white T-shirt without any underwear and went back through to the kitchen. The smell of coffee greeted her like a siren, and she inhaled appreciatively.

  Rio had taken off his coat and rolled up his sleeves to display strong forearms and the hint of a tattoo that disappeared beneath the edge of his shirt.

  Yvonne zeroed in on it. “What’s the tattoo?”

  He glanced down at his right elbow as he poured her a mug of coffee. “It’s a quote in Portuguese from Ferdinand Magellan.”

  “The guy who proved the Earth wasn’t flat?”

  “That’s the one.”

  “Saying?”

  He grimaced and looked adorably embarrassed. “It’s kind of long, but when I was eighteen, it had a lot of meaning for me.”

  “Tell me,” Yvonne encouraged him.

  He cleared his throat and started to recite. “The sea is dangerous and its storms terrible, but these obstacles have never been sufficient reason to remain ashore . . . Unlike the mediocre, intrepid spirits seek victory over those things that seem impossible . . . It is with an iron will that they embark on the most daring of all endeavors . . . to meet the shadowy future without fear and conquer the unknown.”

  She blinked at him. “Wow, that is long, but very powerful.”

  “It worked in several ways—that I wouldn’t let the space between my mother and I divide us forever, and that I would succeed in whatever I chose to do even if my father said it
was impossible.” He grinned. “He also forbade me to get a tattoo.”

  Yvonne let her gaze travel up his arm. “Do you really have the whole thing on you?”

  “Yes, do you want to see?” He undid the top three buttons of his shirt and, in one quick motion, pulled it and his T-shirt over his head.

  For a long moment, all Yvonne could do was stare at the muscled perfection of his chest, his defined biceps and abs, and hope that she wasn’t actually drooling.

  “It’s mainly on my back.”

  He obligingly turned around to reveal how the quote went up his arm and over his shoulder, and covered the right upper quadrant of his back.

  “I like the fact that when I’m on a bull, my free hand is over my head giving my father the proverbial F you every time I ride.”

  Yvonne moistened her lips. “Makes sense.”

  He turned to face her. “You okay? You sound a little strange.”

  “Your body . . .”

  He looked down at himself. “What about it?”

  “It’s perfect.”

  “Yeah?” He sauntered around the counter and came close—way too close, so she could feel the heat radiating from his skin.

  “You can touch it if you like.”

  As if in a daze, she reached out, and stroked the taut heat of his shoulder. “Oh God . . .”

  “What’s wrong?”

  She met his gaze. “You know what we talked about? About how sensible we were not getting involved and all that?”

  “Yes?”

  “Well, do you think we could just give into lust just this once?” She was babbling now, but she didn’t care. “We could agree upfront that it still meant we weren’t ready for a relationship, and just make this a one-off, and—”

  His mouth descended on hers, and words didn’t matter anymore as he sat her on the top of the table, and moved between her spread knees, fitting her softness to his hardness. One of his hands wove in her hair, and the other wrapped around her hips, holding her tight against him.

  She wasn’t being shy herself, her fingers scratching down his spine, and over his shoulders, making him groan into her mouth. Emboldened, she wound her fingers into his belt loops, and eased the buckle free. He smelled delicious, he tasted even better, and the feel of him under her hands was short-circuiting her exceptionally practical brain.