Page 6 of Sweet Deal (Honeysuckle, Texas #4)

Thankful that rural roads were pretty much empty outside of town, Rachel raced home.

Her day had not gone as planned, but somehow that wasn’t unexpected.

Sometimes the system simply didn’t work in favor of those who most needed it.

For the Bensons, today had been one of those days.

Shaking her head, she forced the case details aside.

She pressed a little harder on the accelerator.

She was already running late to meet Jim.

A small smile touched her lips despite the lingering tension from her visit.

She was actually looking forward to this evening, to the playful banter, to simply forgetting about the real world for a couple of hours.

Turning onto the long gravel drive leading up to the Sweet Ranch house, she saw a truck stopping near the front porch. Had to be Jim. Perfect timing. Sliding her car beside his, she killed the engine and hopped out.

He leaned against his truck, looking effortlessly good in the new jeans and a simple gray t-shirt, his arms crossed. His gaze drifted down to where her car stopped less than a foot from his rear bumper. That easy grin fell into place. “Cutting it a little close there, Sweet?”

“Never.” She did her best to return the easy grin, but she was still too tied up in the day. “Give me five minutes to wash away the day’s dust.”

“Take ten.” His smile softening slightly, his blue eyes seemed to hold a hint of understanding. “I’ll wait right here. Can’t wait to see the look on your face when I beat you.”

“Keep dreaming, Henderson,” she shot back over her shoulder, hurrying inside.

True to her word, maybe seven minutes later, feeling slightly more human after washing the day’s grime and stress from her face, and tossing on a lightweight cotton sundress, she rejoined him on the porch, a little surprised her mother or siblings hadn’t noticed him waiting.

At least this way they stood a better chance of a clean escape. “Okay, ready to face defeat?”

He chuckled, opening the passenger door of his truck for her. “After you.”

Settling in, she buckled up, taking note that the vehicle was in much better shape than the typical ranch truck.

“It’s Mom’s.”

Had he read her mind?

“Made me think, if I’m going to stick around for a bit, it might be good to buy four wheels that doesn’t smell inside like hay and horses.”

“Are you? Going to stick around?”

“Don’t know yet.”

She nodded. It was none of her business what he did with his life. Besides, her day had been long enough; she was not going to add something else to her growing list of real-life worries.

“You okay?”

Blinking, she realized he’d been talking, and her mind had been wandering anywhere but here. “Sorry. Just… processing the long day.”

“Tough one?” His voice was low, gentle, inviting confidence without demanding it.

Leaning her head back against the headrest, she sighed. “They’re all tough in their own way. Case management in a rural setting involves home visits. When I was in the city, if my case was out on the street smoking crack, then that’s where I went. Wherever I’m needed, that’s where I go.”

“Saving the world.” There was no teasing, no sarcasm—if anything, she thought she heard a note of pride in his voice.

“I wish.” She shook her head, not wanting to burden him with the details, and forced what she hoped was a convincing smile. “No more talk about my job. Tonight’s sole mission is watching me utterly destroy you at corn hole.”

He glanced at her again, a flicker of controlled amusement. “We’ll see about that.”

The deliberate shift worked. The knot in her chest eased slightly, replaced by the familiar spark of playful competition. He parked near the town’s bustling corn hole courts, the scent of grilled onions and popcorn drifting on the evening air. “By any chance, are you as hungry as I am?”

A deep laugh ruptured the evening air. “Of course, I am. Men are always hungry. Even if we’re not, we’re like dogs, put food in front of us and we’ll eat.”

Two minutes later they were seated on a nearby bench, and she devoured her hot dog as if she hadn’t eaten in a week.

At one point, a drop of mustard lingered at the corner of Jim’s mouth and unable to resist, she reached up and swiped it away with her thumb, resisting the urge to lean in and kiss the remaining dollop away.

“I guess you can dress me up but can’t take me anywhere.” His gaze lingered on her lips for a moment, and she wondered if he was thinking the same thing or if she merely had mustard on her lips too. Shaking his head, he stared at the last bite of his hot dog. “Know what this reminds me of?”

“A baseball game?” She bit into her last bite.

“Field day, the year before I moved away.”

There had been so many field days. Her mind wandered back to the last one.

“Our deal.”

“Deal?” Frowning, she fast-forwarded through her memories and then it struck her.

“You do remember?”

“If we make it to over thirty and aren’t married.” She couldn’t spit out the rest of the words.

“That’s the one. We were in quite the mood. Foot races, tug of war, hot dogs, and the silliest deal ever made.”

“Right. Silly.” She forced a laugh. “Oh well.” Tossing the dirty wrapper and used napkin into the nearby trashcan, she turned to face him, ignoring the stupid deal that hit a little too close to home at the moment. “Ready, or do you just want to concede now?”

Pushing to his feet, he reached for her hand. “Fat chance.”

Hand still tingling slightly where his had been, Rachel followed Jim toward the nearest open court. The familiar thump-thump of bean bags hitting wood filled the air, along with easy laughter and competitive calls from neighboring games. It felt good to be here, with Jim.

“Okay, Henderson,” she said, grabbing a set of bright red bean bags while he claimed the blue. “Standard rules? First to 21?”

“You got it, Sweet.” He grinned, hefting a blue bag. “Ladies first.”

She rolled her eyes but stepped up to the line. Her first toss felt rusty, landing just short of the board with a soft puff in the dust. “No worries. I’m just getting warmed up.”

Jim’s first throw sailed smoothly, landing squarely on the board near the back edge. “Like riding a bike,” he teased.

Her next throw was better. They traded throws, the bags landing on, off, sometimes surprisingly close to the hole. The easy rhythm of the game, the back-and-forth teasing, felt incredibly natural. With every toss, her aim improved.

“Three points for me,” Jim announced as one of his bags dropped neatly through the hole.

“Lucky shot.” Rachel lined up her own throw, focused, swung her arm smoothly, and watched as her red bag arch perfectly, landing dead center and sliding straight in. “And that,” she dusted off her hands with mock seriousness, “makes five in a row. Gotcha.”

A triumphant gleam lit up Rachel’s emerald eyes. Jim couldn’t help but grin. She wasn’t just good; she was scary good. He had half expected her game to be rustier than his—after all, neither had the time to play the way they did when they were kids.

Having tossed the blue bags into the designated container, retrieving a five-dollar bill from his wallet, he pressed into her palm. “This is getting to be a habit.”

“Isn’t it, though?” She beamed, tucking the bill into her front pocket.

“Do you need to get back to the ranch, or are you up for a cup of coffee and maybe dessert?”

“I’m always up for a cup of Agnes’s coffee.”

Without thinking, he placed his hand lightly against the small of her back to guide her toward the street.

The warmth of her skin through the thin fabric sent an unexpected jolt through him.

He pulled his hand back quickly, shoving it into his pocket.

That small touch felt oddly intimate, crossing some invisible line he hadn’t meant to cross.

If Rachel noticed, she didn’t show it. She fell into step beside him, neither saying much in the short walk.

At the café, he held the door open for her, the familiar aroma of coffee and home cooking greeting them.

Agnes spotted them immediately, bustling over with menus, her eyes twinkling knowingly.

“Well, doesn’t this feel like a trip back in time? Here for a late dinner?”

“Just coffee and dessert,” Jim said.

Agnes directed them to a booth by the window.

“You could be quite the corn hole hustler if you wanted to.” Jim resisted the urge to stretch his hand across the table and snatch hold of hers.

Her bright smile flickering slightly, and he saw that shadow again, the one that hinted at the stress she carried beneath the easy laughter.

Something was definitely off. Any other woman and he’d believe it was just the stress of her job, but this was Rachel.

He might not know the woman she’d become, but he knew enough to know something was seriously bothering her.

“So is blueberry pie still your favorite?”

“With lots of whipped cream.”

He flashed a smile. “Still like a little pie with your whipped cream?”

“Some things never change.”

Again, her smile didn’t quite reach her eyes.

A frightening thought occurred to him—had he done or said something to upset her?

Did placing his hand on her back bother her?

Did he tease her too much? What could it have…

the deal. She’d seemed rattled when he mentioned it and then she quickly dropped it and went into champion mode. Blast.

“Uh-oh.” Rachel’s gaze leveled with his. “You’re frowning. Don’t tell me you actually need the five dollars?”

He tried to laugh, but he couldn’t. Instead, thankful there was no one else around them, he leaned forward. “Rachel, if I offended you, I’m really sorry. It wasn’t my—”

“Offend me? Of course not. Why would you think that?”

“Back in the park. When I mentioned that deal we’d made. Your mood shifted. It was dumb of me to bring it up. You must think I’m a—”

Cutting him off, she leaned forward, took hold of his hand and squeezed hard. “Hey, you were a good, kind, and special friend. I wasn’t offended.”

“Then what?” Crud. It was the hand thing.

Her chin dropped for a minute, and she seemed to be contemplating the sins of the world.

“Rachel, once upon a time you trusted me. What’s wrong?”

Closing her eyes a long moment, she blew out a sigh and opening her eyes, nodded. “The ranch is in trouble.”

And that would explain all the siblings except Kade moving home.

Agnes appeared, setting down two steaming mugs and generous slices of blueberry pie. His plain, hers under a mound of whipped cream. “I figured some things never change.” The woman shrugged and hurried away.

“How much trouble?” he asked.

He listened in stunned silence as Rachel explained how their trusted foreman wasn’t so trusted.

The absurdity of it all hit him harder than he would have expected.

This wasn’t just a rough patch, this was a crisis, a bizarre, almost unbelievable predicament straight out of a script for a really bad romantic comedy, or maybe a film noir. No wonder she looked stressed.

“It’s a miracle that everything worked out so well for my brothers. They’re really quite happy. But we can’t seem to catch a break when it comes to getting ahead without needing the trust.”

His mind was reeling. “How much do you still need?”

Her shoulders deflated. “Too much.”

“I’m a good businessman. Maybe I can help, but I need real numbers.” When she gave him a figure, he almost fell out of his chair. He made an enviable living but the kind of math the Sweets were playing with was too steep even for him. “And this foreman did that much damage in just over a year?”

“The perfect storm.” She sighed. “Dad had borrowed a ton of money against the ranch. If it had been used as intended it would have upped our game, but with Ray in charge, well…” She met his eyes with a vulnerability that made his chest tighten.

“What about the upcoming bank payment that has everyone tearing their hair out? How much is that?”

Her gaze narrowed, and he knew the moment she figured out his game. “I couldn’t possibly—”

“Rachel.” He cut her off, his tone gentle but firm. “How much?”

She named an amount that made him raise an eyebrow. Substantial, but not impossible. Not for him.

“Let me help.” He did his best to lighten the mood with a smile. “I’ll trade in all my Italian loafers.”

Her lighthearted chuckle was worth the joke.

“For old time’s sake?”

Resignation settled over her. “I tell you what, I’ll ask the others. See what they think.”

“Okay.” He nodded. “Fair enough.” Now all he had to do was figure out a way to convince the entire Sweet family to let him help.