Free Texas Thunder by Kimberly Raye

arena after snagging the title, but three. Instead of basking in the media attention, he’d been fixated on talking to the fans. On thanking them and signing autographs and shaking hands. He’d been the usual smooth-talking charmer that she remembered so well, but there’d been something different about him, as well.
    Something humble and achingly close to grateful.
    She’d known then that he’d changed from the spoiled, entitled Sawyer who’d always had everything and everyone handed to him.
    No one had given him that victory. He’d worked for it.
    Fifteen minutes, she reminded herself. She’d watched him all of fifteen minutes, until the show had ended and the latest NASCAR race had taken its place. Not nearly enough time to gauge whether or not Brett Sawyer was still the same self-centered jerk he’d been back in the day.
    No one could change that much.
    That’s what she told herself.
    But there was no denying the facts. He’d come home to help his pappy and showed up at the church with a plant and stopped to help her with the boxes and …
    Motherfudger, he was different.
    The realization made her want to cross the space between them and see what else had changed about him. Did his lips still feel as soft when pressed against hers? Would he still do that little circle with his thumb at the base of her spine when he pulled her close? Would he make her feel the same dizzying heat she’d felt that night in the backseat of his pappy’s fancy car? Would he make her feel all of that and more?
    The questions bombarded her, one after the other, making her hands tremble and her body ache and—
    Are you freakin’ kidding? This is Brett Sawyer. The guy more interested in the chase than the actual prize. You’re not throwing yourself at him. You’re never throwing yourself at him.
    Never, ever again.
    She stiffened and glanced at her watch. “I, um, really need to get home.”
    He arched one eyebrow. “I thought you wanted to give me a tour?”
    â€œI can’t. It’s, um, against the rules. I’m not a Realtor, so I can’t legally show you a house that’s on the market.” Okay, so it sounded lame, but it was the best she could come up with. “I shouldn’t have offered, but my day’s been sort of screwy so I’m not really thinking straight. If you come back tomorrow, I’m sure Les would be happy to show you around.” She turned and headed for the foyer.
    Her heart thundered in her chest for several long seconds before she heard the footsteps behind her.
    â€œThanks again for stopping to help,” she told him as she hauled open the door.
    He stopped just a few inches shy and stared at her for a brief moment before he finally shrugged. “My pleasure.” His deep, rumbling voice echoed in her ears as he walked out the door and headed down the walkway.
    Not a chance, buddy.
    She concentrated on locking up the house rather than watching him climb into his truck. There wasn’t going to be any pleasure of any kind.
    Not his.
    Not hers.
    No.
    His truck grumbled to life and she felt the vibration along her nerve endings. Her heart sped faster but she kept from looking as he shifted the monstrous pile of sleek metal into gear and pulled out of the drive. She’d been down the pleasure highway once before with him, one pitted with dozens of potholes and sharp turns, and she wasn’t making the trip again.
    No matter how much he’d changed.
    She’d changed, as well. She’d learned from her mistakes and experience told her to forget all about Brett, take care of business, and get her life back on track.
    That was the smart thing to do. The right thing.
    And Callie Tucker always did the right thing.
    She just wished the right thing didn’t always feel so damned wrong where Brett Sawyer was concerned.
    The rumble of his truck faded, thankfully, and she managed to drag in a