"What?" she asked self-consciously, glancing down at herself to make sure she hadn't spilled half the glass down the front of her shirt. "What are you looking at?"
“I guess I’m looking at you, aren’t I?” he asked, chuckling in that low, rich voice that made her want to squirm. “Just wondering if a goose walked over your grave.”
“If a...what? What are you talking about?” Lacey laughed uncertainly.
"You know, a goose." He chuckled again, taking a sip from his own glass and sinking lower onto the couch. He sat with his legs open wide, and all Lacey would have to do was reach out a hand to touch him. That thought made her shudder again, and Trevor raised an eyebrow at her.
“See? There it is again. What’s got you shivering, Lacey? It’s not exactly cold in here.”
“No, it definitely isn’t,” she agreed, though she was talking as much to herself as she was to him. Somehow she felt like she was sitting in a sauna. She’d been noticing the same effect more often lately when close to Trevor. That, or when it was just the two of them, no Jade to cut the tension and keep Lacey’s thoughts where they ought to be.
She was in trouble, and she knew it. She'd had plenty of life to live after Trevor had moved to Helena, enough that she had all but forgotten about him. Now that they were abiding under the same roof, though, more and more of their childhood was coming back to her. Each memory made it harder to dismiss the fact that she had spent a majority of her younger, formative years totally and hopelessly in love with Trevor McCall.
It wasn't like she’d been unique in that sense. Lacey was pretty sure that half the girls in Winding Creek had harbored secret fantasies of being the one who’d be able to tame Trevor's wild ways. He'd spent time with girls, of course, more than his fair share of them, if even only some of the rumors were true. But nobody had ever captured his heart, and thankfully, for the sake of Lacey's self-esteem, she'd never been so foolish as to think he would see her as anything other than his family maid's annoying kid.
That hadn't kept her from daydreaming, though, and now that they were together almost all the time, those fantasies had returned in full force. Sitting so close to him that she could smell the cedar undertones of his cologne and sipping matching glasses of wine wasn't doing anything to cool her jets, either. The only thing keeping her safe was the fact that the attraction was totally, one hundred percent one-sided.
“You know what? Scratch that,” Trevor went on, apparently willing to let her weird behavior go without explanation after all. “I want to know about something else.”
“Um, really? What might that be?” she asked nervously. She took another sip of wine to calm her nerves, and maybe buy her some time as well, depending on what he wanted to know. The sip was too big, however, and she almost choked, coming close to spitting wine all over a couch she suspected cost as much as much if not more than her Jeep, ruining any chance she might have with Trevor. Not that she really stood a chance. Not that she even wanted to, she reminded herself, albeit with a woeful lack of conviction.
“I want to know where all that fire in the hardware store came from,” he laughed, taking a sip from his own glass and wrinkling his nose ever so slightly at the taste of the smooth red wine.
“I don’t know what you mean,” she said, although the answer sounded lame even to her own ears.
"Oh no, don't try to play it that way," he said, shaking his head and angling his body toward her, closing the gap between them even further until their knees were actually touching. She did her best not to stare at the place where her body stopped and his began but worried she was doing a poor job. She had no idea how women did this—how they played it cool when their insides were screaming and doing a nervously optimistic happy dance.
“I don’t have the faintest idea what you’re talking about,” she said, her voice surprisingly coy. “I’m not playing at anything, anyway.”
"You sure are," he countered. "You know exactly what I mean. Now, don't get me wrong, if that moron had been talking to me the way he was talking to you, I would have decked him. Probably would have gotten myself thrown in jail in the process, too. But I'm not exactly known for my even temper and my wells of reserve, if you know what I mean."
“I might have an idea,” she said, a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.
“You, though, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you get up in anyone’s face like that. From what little I remember of us being kids, you were always pretty quiet.”
"Yeah, I was pretty forgettable," she said in a low voice, her good mood lessening considerably. No woman wanted her most lasting impression to be her ability to blend into the background. Not unless she was some sort of secret spy assassin, which Lacey most certainly was not.
"No way," Trevor said, shaking his head vehemently. "That's not what I said, and it's not what I meant. I said you were quiet. Like, shy. It just surprised me, is all, seeing you go toe to toe with that guy.” He nodded. “A good surprise, by the way."
“Yeah, I can see that,” Lacey said, willing herself to relax before her defensiveness made her seem like a total whack job. “If you want to know the truth, I had a couple of classes with that guy.”
“Did you?” Trevor asked, his face registering surprise. “He didn’t seem to recognize you.”
“No, he didn’t, did he?” she agreed sourly. “We were in school together, though, and he certainly enjoyed making things rough. He went out of his way to make fun of me every chance he got. It was like it was one of his hobbies, or something.”
Trevor didn't say anything to that, and as the silence wore on, Lacey mentally kicked herself. Trevor had probably never had to deal with a bully in his life. She didn't know what exactly he was thinking now, but she couldn't imagine it was good. She wanted to make a joke and laugh the whole thing off, but she couldn't think of a single thing to say, and the silence between them seemed magnified by the ticking of the grandfather clock in the corner and the crickets singing just outside the windows.
“I hate that.” His voice was so low that Lacey thought she might have imagined it. When she ventured a glance at him, though, she saw that his expression had turned dark. He was staring at her as if he was trying to see into the most private thoughts in her head.
“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said anything. I don’t know why I did. You asked where that scene came from, and I—”
“No,” he interrupted, his intensity making her heart jump into her throat, “you’re misunderstanding me. I don’t hate anything you did. I hate that something like that happened to you. That there wasn’t somebody around to put that punk in his place.”
“And would you have done it?” she asked, both appalled and transfixed by the forwardness of her question. “If you had been on the spot in school, and you had seen him messing with me like that, would you have stepped in and done something?”
“Are you kidding me?” he asked, his voice husky. He leaned forward and set his wine glass on the coffee table, never taking his eyes from hers as he moved. “How could I not?”
She couldn't look away from him, didn't want to look away. She watched with wide eyes as he leaned forward, his movements seeming slow and lightning-quick all at once. She could hardly grasp this was happening. Even as his spicy scent filled her nostrils and she felt his two-day stubble brush her face, she couldn't believe that he was going to kiss her. She was struck by an almost overwhelming urge to pinch herself. She managed to avoid the temptation, but not by much.
“Oh!” she gasped when his lips finally brushed hers, and she melted into him as if she had always been meant to be pressed up against him.
It started out tentative, questioning, his lips hardly touching hers at all. Then his teeth grazed along her lower lip, and she jerked, almost dropping her glass. Without missing a beat, he took it from her, setting it on the table beside his own.
"Okay?" he asked, his voice coming out rough, almost a growl. She nodded, smiling against his mouth, and he laughed and pulled h
er closer still. She gasped again, but this time it had nothing to do with surprise but with the feeling of heat growing inside her, the trembling of her thighs and all it implied. He slid his hand beneath her summer top, and she made no move to stop him. Instead, she arched her back so that he cupped her breast more completely in one calloused hand. Everything was moving too fast and too slowly for her all at once. She wanted only to let it happen, to see how far things would go, but a nagging fear of disappointing him in the back of her head wouldn't let her stay quiet. She pulled back reluctantly, trying to keep her eyes from straying to the bulge in his jeans.
“I’m sorry,” she panted. “I need to tell you something.”
“Let me guess. You’re not attracted to me?” he laughed breathlessly. He leaned forward again and nibbled on the lobe of her ear, making her shiver violently.
“No, it’s definitely not that,” she said shakily. “I think that’s painfully obvious.”
“What are you talking about, painful? It suits me just fine,” he purred.
“I just...there’s something I need to tell you, Trevor, before things go any further. I’m...I’m a virgin. I’ve never been with a man. I mean, I’ve fooled around, but—”
She trailed off, looking down at her hands. She had never felt so wretched in her life. Her head was spinning with how quickly things had switched from one mood to another. She knew even before her admission was all the way out of her mouth that it would mean the end of whatever had been about to happen between them.
“Whoa,” he said shakily, pulling back to a safe distance. “I had no idea, Lacey. We need to slow down, think this through. I don’t think I’m ready for anything like that.”
Lacey simply sat, letting his rejection sink in and do its work. She could argue the point, of course. She could even think of plenty of things to say, things that might or might not do the trick. She could, for example, tell him that he had always been the one she had imagined losing her virginity to in the first place. She could tell him that on nights when the darkness was complete and sleep seemed an entire lifetime away, her fantasies of him had helped lull her to sleep. Except that would have been begging, or close enough not to make a difference. She was humiliated already. She had no desire to make the experience worse.
On top of everything, the voice of her mother was whispering in her head. Lacey had been raised by a single mother, her father's name unmentioned. More times than Lacey could count, her mother had talked about the dangers that men presented. It only took one time, one moment of weakness, and then her life would be ruined. The statements had been designed to terrify, and they had done their job well. Now that the heat of the moment had been doused with a cold dose of rejection, those concerns returned front and center.
“Hey, I’m sorry,” Trevor stammered, reaching for her hand. “I’m not—I don’t want to take something away from you. That’s serious business.”
"No, I know," she said, keeping her voice friendly but undeniably tense. She pulled her hand back quickly and with a tad more aggression than was strictly necessary. He winced, and momentarily, she was pleased to see it. He'd made her feel like an utter fool. Maybe it would do him good. She knew she wasn't being fair, but it sure made her feel a little better.
“I’m going to bed,” she said, standing abruptly.
Trevor shifted on the couch as if he wasn’t sure whether he should get up and try to stop her. In the end, he remained seated. “You don’t have to do that, Lacey. We were having a nice time, weren’t we? We can finish the wine.”
"We could," she nodded. "But I'm exhausted, and I think some sleep will do me a world of good."
“Sure, if you say so,” Trevor said, although he didn’t look convinced. “But hey, no hard feelings, right?”
“Right,” she said, swallowing hard. “No hard feelings.”
She wanted it to be true. She had no doubt that it would be—eventually. Still, she was glad he couldn’t see her face as she hurried toward the stairs and the solace of her room.
10
Things were tense in the McCall house after the stupid stunt that Trevor had pulled. Every time he walked past the couch, he cringed, remembering what he wanted to forget with unfortunate clarity. He couldn't pass through his living room without feeling Lacey's body pressed up against him. He wanted to apologize to her again. The problem was, he wasn't the kind of man who doled out apologies easily, and he didn't know how to approach the thing without making her feel bad all over again. He had seen the hurt and embarrassment on her face plain as day, and it killed him to know that he had been the one to put it there.
The town-wide Easter Egg hunt provided the perfect change-up in their schedules to pull them out of their funk. He’d run the idea past Lacey the day before, nervous about talking to her and feeling like an idiot because of it. He kept envisioning scenarios where she told him what a terrible guy he was and stormed out, gone for good. He’d had women storm out on him before, and he’d never lost much sleep over it. With Lacey, though, he had a feeling things would be different. He didn’t want to see her go, and not just because he needed her help with childcare. He’d been relieved when she had agreed that the special event would be a good break for Jade, and he was on the verge of manic now that they had finally arrived.
"Oh!" Lacey said, startled when Trevor practically sprinted around the front of his truck to her door. When he opened it, she hesitated for a moment before getting out, giving him a rueful look. It made his chest hurt to see her glancing at him that way, but he did his best to smile. After all, he had earned the reaction.
“People still do this, right?” he asked with a laugh that sounded way too nervous to be natural. “Open doors for women, I mean?”
“I don’t know,” she said with a small smile. “I mean, I’m sure they do, but I wouldn’t know. I’ve never had a guy open a car door for me before.”
“What? Are you kidding me?” Trevor asked, taking her hand to help her down from the cab.
She flinched a little at his touch, another awful thing he had most certainly earned. He did his best to ignore the jolt of electricity he felt when their two hands touched, as well as to clear his head of the image of her flushed face and shining eyes when he’d kissed her.
He was good at ignoring things until they went away. It was a skill he’d been practicing for the better part of his life.
“Nope, no kidding,” she said with a small, sad smile. “I’m not much for going out on dates, in case you couldn’t tell. Anyway, this day isn’t about me, is it? It’s about Miss Jade.”
“Yeah!” Jade crowed from the backseat, waving her bright pink plastic basket in the air enthusiastically. “Let me out!”
"All right, little lady, I'm coming for you," Trevor chuckled. He opened the door wider and started wrestling with the buckle of her safety seat, struggling a bit as always. Playing parent to a little kid had a steep learning curve, but as it turned out, he didn't hate it. In fact, he was starting to feel like it was the most worthwhile thing he had done in a long, long time.
“Your face looks funny,” Jade giggled as he lifted her out of the truck and set her down on the ground.
“You know what, little lady? I can’t say I’ve had a whole lot of people tell me that in my life, but you might just be right.”
“You’re double silly,” she giggled happily.
She slipped her hand into his without him having to say a thing, a development that was still new and made his heart hurt with pride every time it happened. Having a kid love you, or even start to love you, was an experience unlike any other.
It was turning him into a sap. “I’ll take that, too,” he said happily.
The three followed the crowd to the large field where the festivities were to take place. Excitement pulsed in the air, magnified by the gleeful shouts of children weaving in and out of their parents' legs. Trevor felt his own heart rise with anticipation. Even more surprising was the fact that he was nervous.
Part o
f it was knowing that he was spending the whole morning with Lacey—and not in a working capacity. Outside of work at the bed and breakfast, they had managed to steer clear of each other since their ill-fated couch incident, and he had no idea how the day was going to go. There was more to it, though, far more than just Lacey making him jumpy. He wanted to talk to her about something, and her opinion on the matter meant more to him than he was willing to admit.
“Come on now, guys!” Jade insisted, slipping her hand out of Trevor’s and looking from Trevor to Lacey with obvious disapproval over their slow progress. “Come on, come on, come on!”
"I'm not sure, Trevor, but I think she wants us to speed up," Lacey said with wide, innocent eyes.
Trevor threw his head back and laughed. All of a sudden, despite the nerves still sending adrenaline coursing through his veins, he felt really and truly good. “You know what?” he asked, still laughing. “I think you might be right.”
Now it was her turn to laugh, a soft, rippling sound that perfectly matched the delicate beauty of the flowers in the field. Behind her, the purple mountains loomed in the distance, and the chill in the April air hinted at spring temperatures on the horizon. For a second, Trevor was overwhelmed by an urge to take Lacey's hand that came on sudden and strong, taking him so unaware that he almost gave in. Instead, he cracked his knuckles and shoved his hands down in his pocket, clearing his throat reflexively.
“Everything okay?” Lacey asked, shooting him a little sideways glance, a small smile playing at the corners of her lips.
"Good," he answered quickly. "Great. Just trying to figure out the best place to lay down our blanket. Gotta stake our claim, find the best spot to watch the frenzy of kids hopped up on sugar, you know?"
“Yikes, that’s a pretty important decision,” Lacey said, sucking in a sharp breath and making it sound like the matter was life and death. “And I think there’s only one real answer.”
“Oh, yeah?” he chuckled. “And what’s that?”
The Rancher’s Inherited Family: McCall Ranch Brothers Book One Page 6