They’d shared a few text messages the day before. Nothing too personal. Just their first names, interests and a time and place to meet. She’d seemed friendly and had added humorous emojis to her texts.
He got to his feet in a microsecond and held out his hand.
“Hi,” he said quietly. “I’m Jake Brockton.”
She stepped a little closer and took his hand, and he experienced an inexplicable tightening in his chest as their skin connected. Her eyes widened fractionally, as though she was experiencing the same reaction and then she quickly withdrew her hand.
“Valene Fortunado,” she said, her voice huskier than he’d expected. “But everyone calls me Val.”
Fortunado? He’d heard the name but wasn’t sure where. Jake nodded and signaled to the waitress. “Coffee?”
“That would be nice,” she said as she placed her small bag on the seat. “I’ve been here before. You?”
Jake shook his head. “But my sister told me the coffee is good.”
As small talk went, it was pretty benign, and he ignored the way his insides twitched. She was very attractive...more than he’d expected. More than he wanted. In his experience, beautiful women were nothing but trouble and potential heartache.
The waitress arrived and he listened, amused, as his date ordered a single-shot, low-fat, vanilla soy latte with extra cinnamon. He asked for a tall black and waited until the waitress disappeared before he spoke again.
“You’re very pretty.”
She raised one brow, clearly not expecting the compliment. “Thank you. You’re not so bad yourself.”
Jake laughed softly. “Can I ask you something?”
She nodded. “Sure.”
“Why are you using a dating app?”
“Why are you?” she shot back, smiling.
“My sister made me do it,” he admitted. “She thinks I spend too much time alone.”
Her lovely brow arched higher. “And do you?”
“Probably. Occupational habit.”
“What do you do?” she asked.
Jake expelled an even breath. “I work on a ranch.”
She sat back in her seat, her head tilted at a gentle angle. “Doing what?”
“Ranching stuff.”
She smiled slightly. “I’m a city girl, so I’ll need a little more information.”
“Ranching,” he replied. “Mustering cattle. Horse breaking.”
Her brows came together. “Like...a cowboy?”
He nodded. “Exactly.”
“I’ve never been on a date with a cowboy before.”
“Really?” He grinned. “Then you’ve led a sheltered life. This is Texas—cowboy capital of the nation.”
She laughed, and the sound reverberated in his chest. “I know that, too. I was born and raised in Houston. What about you?”
“I was raised in San Antonio until I was twelve, but I was born in Stafford, just outside Houston,” he said.
“That’s a nice spot. I sold a dude ranch there once,” she said idly. “Property values hold steady.”
Jake rested his elbows on the table. “You owned a dude ranch?”
She shook her head and grinned, waiting while the waitress approached with their order before speaking again. “No, it’s what I do for a living.”
“Selling dude ranches?”
“Selling real estate,” she corrected. “I work in my family’s business.”
He recalled seeing that she was self-employed on her profile. And now he knew why her surname seemed familiar. He knew of Fortunado Real Estate. They were one of the biggest in the city, and her family was connected to the famous Fortunes of Texas. “Do you enjoy it?”
“Mostly,” she replied. “I split my time between both the Austin and Houston offices and like any business, it has its ups and downs. It’s a little more down than up at the moment, but I always look on the bright side.”
Jake stirred a little sugar into his coffee. “I’m glad to hear it. So, you didn’t answer my question.”
“Which one?”
He met her gaze. “Why the dating app?”
She shrugged fractionally. “It’s simply a way to meet people.”
“People?”
Her cheeks spotted with color. “Guys. Or a guy. You know, Mr. Wonderful and all that.” She spooned the froth off her beverage. “But the truth is, if you’d turned out to be a cardboard cutout or one of the great unwashed, I was going to make this my third and last attempt.”
Jake laughed softly. “You’ve done this before?”
She held up two fingers. “And both disastrous.”
“I take it one was dull and the other had an issue with personal hygiene?”
She chuckled and he noticed that her brown eyes had flecks of gold in them. Damn, she really was pretty.
“Exactly,” she said on a sigh.
“And how am I comparing so far?”
Her eyes widened, and she bit her lower lip for a moment. “Well, from here you look very much like flesh and blood. And you smell nice.”
He laughed again and realized he’d done quite a lot of that since she’d arrived. “So, Valene, tell me about yourself.”
She didn’t break their gaze. “I’m twenty-four. Single, obviously. I work for my family’s real estate business. My parents are wonderful and still happily in love after thirtysomething years of marriage. I’m the youngest of six children and am considered to be somewhat spoiled. I have my own condo in the city and a fiercely protective bulldog. I’m allergic to passion fruit and I love chocolate. You?”
Jake drank some coffee and looked at her. “I’m thirty-two. Single, obviously,” he said, echoing her words. “I work on a ranch near Fulshear, outside Houston. My father died over a decade ago, and my mom still grieves him every day. I have a younger sister named Cassidy who is considered somewhat spoiled. I have a very unprotective collie mix called Sheba who tries to sleep on the end of my bed every night. I’m not allergic to anything I know of and I can take or leave chocolate.”
It was a vague introduction, since he wasn’t about to start saying too much about himself to a stranger. But she seemed nice enough, and what harm could a little flirtation do?
“It’s nice to meet you, Jake,” she said, still smiling.
“Likewise, Valene.”
“Do you like being a cowboy?” she asked.
“It has its up and downs,” he said, mimicking her earlier words as he smiled. “It’s physically hard work, but rewarding. It’s all I’ve done since I left college.”
“Where did you graduate?” She sipped her latte and looked at him over the rim of her mug. “The University of Houston?”
“No.”
“Rice University?”
“I dropped out before the second semester.”
Jake waited for her expression to change, for disappointment or censure to show on her pretty face. But to her credit, she didn’t appear fazed by what he’d described