by Jean Oram
Tonight was about courage, new beginnings, and showing him she was ready to move past her fears and start something slow.
“Big thing at the Watering Hole, hmm?” Cole ran a hand through his hair. He seemed to be waking up more. She used to find her ex-boyfriend’s sleepy-eyed gaze sexy, like an animal she could tame, unlike wide-awake Cole. Currently, she found his lack of alertness tried her patience.
He rubbed an eye, and she narrowed her attention. Wait. Cole Wylder had been taking a nap at seven o’clock on New Year’s Eve? Unheard of. Usually he had already primed himself with a few beers by now, preparing for an adventure.
“You’re not going out?” April asked.
“I might.” He gave a casual shrug, leaning against the partially open door as if he had all the time in the world.
“There’s my little cowboy!” Maria said, appearing from the office down the hall, where April knew she’d set up a small area for painting miniature canvases. She hurried toward them, tugging the smock she’d been wearing over her head, then stretching out her arms to Kurt. Cole had opened the door all the way, and Kurt ran straight to her, receiving a hug that warmed April’s heart.
“Cole, let April in and close the door. It’s cold out there tonight.”
He gave a sheepish grimace. “Sorry. Just woke up.”
“I have Kurt’s overnight bag here,” April said, putting it down inside the door. “His stuffed animal from Carmichael is in it.” The seventy-nine-year-old had won a purple unicorn at the library fundraiser fair in early November and given it to Kurt. The toy and the kid had barely been separated since.
“Okay. Have fun with Jackie tonight,” Maria said, coming over to give April a hug, Cole silently watching the exchange. “We’re going to bake cookies, then eat a few, watch a movie, and try to stay up until midnight.”
Kurt did a little dance of excitement.
“Midnight?” April exclaimed, as though it was an unbelievable idea for her four-year-old. She widened her eyes at Kurt and he giggled.
“You’re not supposed to know, Mom. It’s a secret!”
“I’ll pretend I never heard it then?” April suggested, and he nodded. To Maria she said, “I’ll pick him up around noon tomorrow? Or would you like me to come sooner?”
“Noon’s fine. If you want, can you come for lunch?”
“That would be nice.”
“Brant was saying some payments haven’t come through for you?” Maria gave Kurt a pointed glance, obviously referring to Heath and child support. “If you need anything, you let me know, okay? My pantry’s always fully stocked and there are always extra chairs at our table.”
April bit her lips, pushing back the swell of gratitude. She nodded, unable to speak.
Maria patted her arm, then opened the door for her. “It won’t be long until everything is all straightened out and back to normal for you. Hang in there.”
“Do you need tickets at the Watering Hole tonight?” Cole asked, as April stepped onto the porch.
She shook her head. She’d be nursing one beer all night, making it a cheap night out.
She got in her vehicle, disappointed that she hadn’t seen Brant, even though she hadn’t wanted to. She lowered her forehead to the steering wheel for a moment, kicking herself for not asking Maria if she could board Cookies in her stable. However, the woman was already doing so much for her. It felt wrong to ask for more, especially when April knew she’d never say no. Maybe Ryan’s girlfriend, Carly, had room in her stable next door, and April could find enough spare cash in her next paycheck to cut a deal.
Or maybe it was time to sell Cookies. The problem was, selling the horse Carmichael had given her when she was thirteen felt like selling her best friend. Cookies was an old fellow now, still strong but in his twenties, and he deserved a lovely retirement, not abandonment.
Determined to move her thoughts away from her horse guilt, she lifted her head from the steering wheel and thought about Brant. She didn’t have an official plan for tonight, just knew she wanted to catch his attention. Even though she already had it.
She sighed.
Okay, so besides the dress, she had no actual plan.
She was hoping that tonight would give her the strength to build an argument so strong she’d have no choice but to give in to her belief that Brant Wylder was absolutely the perfect man for her and that she should do something about it.
Rather immediately.
Brant had been torturing himself ever since that hot moment when he’d all but bent April over the washing machine in her little laundry nook and consumed her mouth with his own.
His thoughts were locked in a circle, all of them revolving around one thing, one woman, one idea, one desire.
He wanted to have April MacFarlane as his, and being patient was taking a toll on him. She needed some time and space to heal, and he needed to cool his jets. Something he’d once excelled at.
But the anticipation and tension building between them was well past torturous. How much time did a woman need? He’d seen the way she looked at him. She didn’t want to wait, either.
He straightened his white cowboy hat and smoothed the front of his button-up shirt. He’d chosen a plain, rectangular belt buckle, dark wash jeans and a comfortable pair of brown cowboy boots he could dance in all night. Parking on Main Street, he left his black insulated vest in the truck, and walked down to the Watering Hole.
The place was hopping for nine o’clock, with people milling about outside the bar, smoking and laughing, and music pouring out into the air every time someone came or went. The old-style swinging doors that local dogs ducked under had been latched to the inner full-length doors to keep out the December cold.
Brant paused to pet Rusty, a dog who’d adopted the saloon and its owners due to his love of their day-old cheese bread.
“Busy in there tonight, pal. You might have to wait until tomorrow to get your treats.”
The brown and white mutt fell into step behind him, his tail wagging hopefully. At the doors, Brant gave a shake of his head and Rusty sat with a plaintive whine.
“Sorry, buddy.”
Inside, the saloon was warm, with bodies packed wall to wall. Those on the raised platform with the pool tables at the back barely had enough space to take their shot.
Finding April should be difficult in the moving crowd and dim lighting, but his gaze locked on her immediately. She was wearing a blue dress that should be illegal. The way it hugged her body was practically indecent, showing every curve that had filled out with motherhood. So many sexy curves.
Brant swallowed hard, trying to act casual as an internal homing beacon urged him to walk directly to her. Instead, he headed toward the bar, where people were packed four deep, waving to the bartenders to take their order.
Daisy-Mae Ray, one of Myles’s ex-girlfriends, came up, holding a tray above the throng of people. “What can I get you, hon?”
“You’re working here again?” Brant asked. She hadn’t in years.
She gave him a dazzling grin and a little shimmy, showing off her tied-up, button-up shirt that had probably already been two sizes too small when she was a teen, and her short, cut-off jeans. Like the rest of the staff, she was wearing black boots and a black cowboy hat. She looked like she could be in a beer commercial or a country and western music video.
“Best tipping night of the year,” she drawled.
“I’ll bet.” He ordered a beer.
“You better order two. It might be a while before I can get back around to you.”
Behind him Brant heard someone say with exasperation, “Quit taking more orders and bring me my drinks, Daisy-Mae.”
“Start tipping better and I’ll make you a priority, sweetie,” she said, blowing the man a kiss.
The guy’s grumpy face softened, and Brant chuckled. He placed a few bills in the glass on Daisy-Mae’s tray, paying her in advance. “I’ll take two of whatever light beer you have on tap.”
“Myles and Ka
ren are over by the band with Levi and Laura, if you’re looking for them,” she said. “And if you’re looking for April, she’s the one beating off admirers in the center of the room.”
Brant pivoted to check her out. There was a man at her table now, standing over her, leaning in too close.
“Since you broke up her marriage, you’d better get in there and make sure it wasn’t all for nothin,” Daisy-Mae advised.
“I didn’t break up her marriage.” Brant made a point of turning back to face her, very aware that April was more than capable of taking care of a drunk interloper. In fact, so were Jackie, Jenny and Carly, who were sharing her table.
“So you didn’t come along looking like the sexiest thing, ready to save her from her marriage doldrums?” Daisy-Mae ran a finger across Brant’s collarbone before she shimmied off with a sly smile.
“Not intentionally,” he said absently, his urge to liberate April strengthening as he glanced over his shoulder. The man was smiling hopefully. Brant wanted to smear the look right off his face.
Daisy-Mae weaved her way behind the bar and Brant considered his next move. He didn’t want to press in on April, as a few kisses didn’t give him the right to beat away other men. He wanted it to, though. He wanted a lot more than a few kisses with her, too.
That would be rescuing her, though, wouldn’t it? And she’d made it clear she didn’t want that.
He cursed softly under his breath, feeling torn.
Wade Ross, a man down on his luck, staggered by, stumbling into Brant. He propped the man back on his feet and glanced April’s way again. The interloper was gone. Brant’s jaw loosened.
Daisy-Mae appeared moments later, quickly handing him two beers before disappearing into a throng of people to deliver the rest of the drinks on her tray.
Someone jostled Brant’s elbow. It was his brother Ryan, who took Brant’s extra beer with a thanks. He clinked the glass against Brant’s.
“Seen Carly?” Ryan asked.
“Middle of the room with April, Jenny and Jackie.”
“How long have you been here?”
“Maybe five minutes?”
“And already have a drink and found the girls?”
Brant shrugged.
“Well? What are you doing standing over here?” Ryan began weaving his way toward the table, Brant following. The place was packed, the tables and chairs so close together it was an ordeal to get to the women.
As they arrived at the table, Jenny Oliver was saying to April, loudly enough to be heard over the music, “I’m serious. I’m going to have an opening in about a week—maybe two—at Blue Tumbleweed. You’ll get discounts on all the clothes. So it doesn’t matter if things fit or not, you just buy more.”
“Are you trying to poach my best employee?” Brant said with a frown. He squeezed into a tight, standing-room-only spot with his brother, with chairs from the next table pressed up behind them.
April blushed, her gaze lingering on him, clearly noticing details in a way that left Brant pleased he’d taken some care with his outfit. He stroked his chin and realized he’d forgotten to shave, then let out a sigh. He wasn’t used to trying to impress a woman.
“As a matter of fact, I am.” Jenny beamed up at him, her cheeks flushed from the girlie drink set in front of her. The poor gal always turned pink after a bit of alcohol.
Brant struggled to focus on what they’d been talking about. A job. Poaching April.
Not on his life.
“Well, I wish you’d stop.”
“I think it’s smart.”
“Hi, Brant.” Violet Granger, sitting at the table behind him, caught his attention. She turned her chair sideways, then scooted her butt forward, leaving a small space behind her. “We can share.”
“You sure?” he asked. The tables were close enough that they could each perch on the chair and be part of their own table’s conversations. She gave him a shy smile and nodded.
Brant glanced at April, hoping to receive a similar offer, but she was too busy glaring at Violet. So he sat down gingerly, keeping his legs out to support him, forearms across his thighs.
“Why is it smart?” Ryan was asking. He’d extended his free hand to Carly and pointed his feet toward the dance floor.
“Because then he won’t have to fire her,” Jackie stated.
“What?” April protested. She’d been glowering at the thin space between Brant and Violet and now aimed her glare at Jackie.
“Why would I fire her?” Brant asked.
“It’s obviously a conflict of interest if you’re crushing on your boss,” Jackie said with a laugh. Ryan’s eyes darted to Brant, smirking as he headed off to dance with Carly.
Brant slipped off Violet’s chair with another thanks, and onto Carly’s before someone could sweep it away.
“I’m not crushing,” April said.
“Fine, fine. In love with him then. Although couples often work together around here. They usually get married first, though.” Jackie lifted her brows meaningfully and Jenny laughed.
April rolled her eyes and Brant took a sip of his beer, wondering how he could extract April from her friends to tell her how sexy she looked in that dress, and how he hoped she’d never leave his clinic.
“You know what day it is,” Jackie said, with special emphasis to ensure she had everyone’s attention.
“December 31,” April said in a dry tone.
“It’s the day Old Man Lovely marries a couple from Sweetheart Creek.” Jackie smiled and leaned back, her eyes flicking to Brant’s, sending shivers down his spine. “I wonder who it will be this year?”
“Old Man Lovely is marrying Delia and Joey tonight,” April stated. “That’s what I heard. Not anyone at this table.” She glanced at Brant and he nodded.
Jackie waved her hand. “You guys are way too chicken for something like that, anyway.”
“It’s called being civil, rational beings,” April said indignantly, knowing her friend was trying to get under her skin.
Truthfully, she didn’t want to think about eloping with Brant. It was too tempting to release the fire that was building inside her and claim the man as hers once and for all. Way too tempting.
But marriage? That was extreme.
“You’re so tame these days,” Jenny teased. She leaned closer. “But you know, it would stop some of the rumors.”
And it would also shut down Heath’s stupid games, as well as her fears that Brant was interested in her only because she needed his help. Yes, she’d already worked the angles in the past several seconds.
“New topic.” April put her beer to her lips, knowing that she’d be unable to focus on anything but Brant and Old Man Lovely’s chapel now. Especially since, despite the crush of people in the Watering Hole, April could smell Brant’s aftershave as he sat beside her in Carly’s chair. He looked so handsome, and it was all she could do not to study his forearms as he rolled up his sleeves in the thick heat of the packed saloon.
She was definitely crushing on her boss. And she would love to put a stop to all the rumors floating around her, and settle into a new life without all this uncertainty. It would be good for her, for Kurt, and for Brant, too.
“How’s your drink?” he asked, gesturing to the bottle in front of her.
“Still good, thanks,” she said, lifting it to take another sip. She’d never had issues keeping up a conversation with Brant, but at the moment she felt tongue-tied, the silence awkward. She’d spent so much time thinking about him over the past few days, wondering, waiting. And from the time she’d arrived, shortly after seven, she’d been scanning the Watering Hole for him. Now he was here, and she didn’t know what to do with him.
She’d thought a grand plan would come to mind when she saw him, but beyond wearing a tight dress, she had nothing.
She wanted to be with him. Wanted to jump over the awkward uncertainty of a new relationship and right into the happily ever after.
“Do you have tomorrow off?” she as
ked Jackie, despite knowing the answer. Brant was watching her, and she felt unfocused, unsettled. Distracted. She grew hot under his gaze, which kept tracking her body like it was something he wanted to sample.
“Do you need me to leave so you two can make out?” Jackie asked, hands on the table as though ready to push away.
April laughed too loudly.
Brant took another sip of his beer, as if mulling over the offer. Then he set down his glass and slid his right arm along the back of April’s chair as he leaned closer. Her body prickled with awareness.
“Whatever makes you comfortable,” he said to Jackie, his voice a deep rumble.
April laughed at his teasing. There was no way he’d kiss her here. Unless maybe it was midnight and they were on the dance floor.
She turned to check Brant’s expression and found his lips connecting with hers. She didn’t kiss back at first, frozen in surprise until he deepened the kiss. He tasted of hops, and his body was warm and firm. She snuggled closer, stroking the rough stubble on his jaw with her fingers.
For a moment she forgot where she was, until he broke the kiss.
She felt dazed.
“Look at that, and it’s not even midnight yet,” Jackie said, dusting her hands together. “My work here is done.”
“I’m sure it’s midnight somewhere,” Brant said, his eyes lingering on April’s lips.
“Rumor is Old Man Lovely stays in his little chapel on the hill until two in the morning,” Jenny said cheerily, “waiting for a taker.”
“We forgot to say Happy New Year before we kissed,” April said to Brant, shifting in her seat so she could slide her hands over his shoulders and into the hair at the nape of his neck, just under his cowboy hat. She could kiss this man all day.
“Happy New Year,” he murmured between kisses. “Is that new perfume?”