Crude Intentions

Chapter 11: The Spendthrift Clause

Theo’s arm tightened around Charlie's waist, his large palm flaring with a protective heat that practically branded through her shirt. He didn't let her step back, nor did he let her sink into the panic clawing at her throat. He leaned down, his jaw brushing the crown of her head, his voice a low, commanding vibration meant only for her.

"Breathe, Charlie," Theo murmured fiercely. "Look at me. We aren't done yet. What am I missing?"

Charlie forced her frantic mind to slow down, her eyes locking onto Theo’s dark, unwavering gaze. The sheer force of his confidence acted like an anchor, pulling her back from the edge. She looked past him to Ms. Mae, who was leaning heavily against her shotgun, a deep, annoyed sigh escaping her lips.

"That boy," Ms. Mae muttered, shaking her head. "Leo always was a fool for a fast talker and a crisp dollar bill. I told him Apex was circling like vultures."

Think, Charlie, think, she told herself. She had spent the last six hours buried in the Goliad County title index. She had run the chains back eighty years. She had memorized every birth, death, marriage, and probate filing associated with the Henderson name.

Suddenly, a missing piece of the puzzle clicked into place. The fog in her brain vanished, replaced by a cold, sharp clarity.

"He doesn't have it," Charlie whispered, a breathy, triumphant laugh escaping her lips.

Theo’s eyes narrowed, a brilliant, predatory spark igniting in their dark depths. He shifted his weight, his chest pressing closer against her shoulder. "Tell me, Head of Land. What did Cole miss?"

"He missed the 1982 probate records," Charlie said, turning fully in Theo's embrace, her hands landing flat against his chest as she looked up at him with a blinding smile. "When your daddy passed away during the eighties oil bust, Ms. Mae, Leo was completely underwater with farm debt. To keep the family's mineral estate from being seized by the bankruptcy courts, your daddy inserted a spendthrift clause into his specific line of inheritance."

Ms. Mae’s eyes widened behind her glasses, a slow, wicked grin beginning to curve her mouth. "Well, I’ll be damned. The spendthrift trust."

"Exactly," Charlie said, her voice rising with unbothered, lethal authority. "Leo owns the right to receive the royalty income, but he has absolute zero legal capacity to encumber, lease, or sign an option on the property. The sole corporate trustee with the exclusive executive right to execute leases on Leo's behalf is his oldest sister." Charlie pointed her pen directly at the matriarch on the porch. "Ms. Mae is the only one who can sign for Leo."

Theo let out a rich, dark laugh that vibrated straight through Charlie’s palms where they rested on his chest. The absolute pride radiating off him was intoxicating. He looked down at her as if she had just handed him the keys to the entire universe.

"Which means," Theo murmured, his fingers digging into her hip, pulling her so flush against him she could feel the hard ridge of his belt buckle, "Garrett Cole just spent twenty minutes across the county line signing a contract that isn't worth the ink it's printed on."

"It's entirely void from inception," Charlie whispered, suddenly hyper-aware of how deeply his fingers were pressing into her skin, of how hot his breath felt against her mouth.

"Let's make it official," Theo said, his voice dropping into a rough, gravelly rasp. He reluctantly let go of her waist, turning toward the porch steps. "Ms. Mae, we have the formal, retroactive ratification waivers right here. Once you and your brothers sign these, Vance Energy legally controls one hundred percent of the block, and the electronic queue at the courthouse won't mean a damn thing."

"Bring 'em up, Son," Ms. Mae said, tossing her shotgun onto the porch swing with a clatter. "Let's put this snake out of his misery."

The hood of Theo's hundred-thousand-dollar Escalade became their midnight closing table.

Under the dim, yellow glow of the porch light and the swirling Texas mist, Charlie spread out the crisp, white legal documents. Ms. Mae’s two younger brothers had ambled out onto the porch in their undershirts, grumbling about the noise but entirely sobered up the second Charlie explained how Apex had tried to rob them with post-production deductions.

One by one, the heirs inked their names onto the formal deeds.

Charlie stepped up, her landman instincts taking over. She pulled her heavy steel embossing seal out of her bag. With a practiced, forceful movement, she clamped the metal jaws down over the signature lines, the loud, metallic crunch of the paper echoing through the quiet yard. She signed her name on the notary line, pressing her official ink stamp flat against the page.

Theo stood right beside her the entire time. He wasn't looking at the documents. He was watching her. He watched the fierce, unyielding concentration in her eyes, the sharp efficiency of her hands, and the raw, natural command she had over her territory. The rugged, dirt-and-sweat-streaked billionaire looked completely, utterly captivated by the small-town landman.

"Done," Charlie said, lifting the final page and sliding the ironclad documents into her leather folder. "It's three in the morning. These are fully executed, notarized, and recordable."

"Mark is already wiring the bonus funds to the family trust account," Theo said, his eyes never leaving her face. He turned to the heirs, his corporate mask slipping back into a respectful nod. "Thank you, Ms. Mae. Your land is safe with us."

"Just take care of my girl Charlie," Ms. Mae said, pointing a finger at Theo. "She's the best thing this county's got, and she just saved my family a fortune."

Theo looked back at Charlie, a dangerous, thrilling smile cutting through the darkness. "I intend to keep her very close, Ms. Mae."

The drive back toward the Goliad County courthouse was silent, but the air inside the Escalade was practically boiling. The adrenaline from the standoff was fading, leaving a thick, heavy wave of exhaustion and raw, electric attraction in its wake.

Theo drove with one hand on the steering wheel, his jaw set as he watched the digital clock on the dashboard. 3:42 AM.

Charlie leaned her head against the cool glass of the passenger window, watching the dark mesquite trees blur past in the fog. Her body felt heavy, her nerve endings tingling with a strange, restless heat. Every time she looked over at Theo, her chest tightened. He had fought for her land, he had protected her from Garrett, and he had looked at her like she was the only woman in the world.

"We need to be on the courthouse steps by six," Charlie said, her voice a quiet murmur in the dark cab. "The deputy clerk usually arrives early to start the coffee. If we catch her before she logs into the automated terminal, we hand-stamp the hard copies."

Theo didn't answer immediately. He took a sharp turn off the highway, pulling the massive SUV onto a secluded, gravel scenic overlook that looked out over the misty San Antonio River valley. He slammed the vehicle into park and killed the engine.

The headlights died, plunging the cab into total, shadow-drenched darkness. The only sound was the ticking of the cooling engine and the heavy, synchronized rhythm of their breathing.

Charlie’s heart leaped into her throat. She turned her head, her pulse racing. "Theo? Why are we stopping? We don't have time to waste."

Theo unbuckled his seatbelt and turned sideways on the leather seat. In the dim, gray moonlight filtering through the fog, his dark eyes were burning with an intensity that made her entire body go completely rigid. He reached across the console, his large, warm hand wrapping firmly around the back of her neck, his thumb sliding along her jawline to tilt her face up to his.

"We have two hours, Charlie," Theo whispered, his voice a low, gravelly rumble that vibrated straight through her skin. "And if I don't touch you right now, I am going to lose my mind."