“Aw, look at you, Mr. Romance.”
“Just be thankful I walked you to the truck for dinner and not back upstairs to ravage you when I saw you in that dress.”
“You’re too used to sneaking in through the back door anyway.”
“You know that’s to keep Justin from knowing I’m sneaking into your bed. Your grandparents know we’re sleeping together.”
“No way.” The blush washed up her breasts and flushed her cheeks.
“Bud gave me a very stern lecture about treating you right and protecting you.”
“Are you telling me he gave you the talk?”
Blake chuckled. “It was like the same awkward conversation I had with my dad.”
Gillian covered her face with both hands. “Oh God. This is not good. How can I ever look at them again?”
That made Blake laugh even more. “Don’t worry about it. I told him exactly what I told you. It’s fine. Though he made it clear—again—that my job and life depend on your happiness.”
“Wait, what did you tell him?”
“I love you.”
“That’s kind of sweet.”
He tugged her ponytail. “You know I love you.”
“It’s sweet that he cared enough to talk with you.”
“Yes, the grandfather threatening to kill the boyfriend if he hurts his little girl is very sweet.” Blake’s words dripped with sarcasm.
“I don’t think I’ve ever had a boyfriend.”
“I can confirm you’ve had at least one,” he grumbled.
She laughed. “That one had more to do with teenage hormones, movie night at a friend’s place, and tequila. Pretty much one of the few times I acted out all my teenage angst and rebellion.”
“Are you serious?”
“I thought we were doing this whole tell-the-truth-about-everything deal. If you want me to lie, I’m happy to tell you about Tom, Rick, Ja—”
“Shut up. I got it. Besides, I like being your first and last boyfriend.”
“Is that right?”
Blake pulled into the parking lot outside the steak house and parked the truck. He leaned over, kissed her socks off, and leaned back with a stern look. “Yes.” He kissed her again. “My life is on the line here, you know?”
He might be teasing, but the truth behind those words always stuck with her. “Blake, I’m sorry there’s so much pressure on you for this to work out.”
“Gillian, what does or doesn’t happen between us is our business, and no one else’s. If it doesn’t work out, it’s a big ranch. I’m sure we can stay out of each other’s way. But, sweetheart, that’s never going to happen unless we let it. I plan to make you happy every day of your life so you’ll have no reason to want to leave me. To that end, let’s go have dinner. I have a surprise for you.”
“Really?” She couldn’t help the giddy smile. No one ever did nice things for her the way Blake did for no reason.
“I love it when you smile.”
She leaned in and kissed him softly. “You make me happy, Blake. I’m worrying over nothing.”
“Yes. You are. You never had very many good things in your life. When you did, your father ruined them. That part of your life is over now. Nothing but happy and good things for you from now on.”
One day, she’d stop waiting for something bad to ruin all the good. That’s not the life she lived anymore. Right? She hoped. Still, she had yet to shake that sense of doom following her around everywhere. She couldn’t outrun it or hide from it. It loomed.
She turned to get out of the truck, but he stopped her with a hand on her thigh that sent a shaft of heat right to her center. That always happened when he touched her. She hoped that good thing never stopped.
“Wait. Let me get the door for you.”
She appreciated his manners and waited for him to come around, open her door, take her hand, and help her down from the truck. She turned to him and found him staring.
“You’re so beautiful.”
“I’m going to have to wear a dress more often if this is how you react.”
“It’s not the dress.” He led her into the restaurant, her hand tucked through his and resting on his forearm.
“Blake, welcome,” the hostess greeted them. “We have your table and order ready. Right this way.”
Blake took her hand and escorted her through the crowded restaurant to a private table in the corner. People stared. A few called out hellos to Blake. He gave them a nod and a smile, but his focus remained on her beside him. He pulled out her chair and waited for her to take her seat. He kissed her shoulder and took the seat beside her, smiling.
“Amy will be your server. She’ll have your drinks in just a moment.” The hostess left them alone.
“What do you think?” he asked.
“I love it. It’s cozy.” She liked the white linen tablecloth, fresh flowers in the pretty blue vase, and taper candles, their flames dancing in the center of the table. Dim lights cast the room in shadows, lending a more private and intimate dinner setting. “She didn’t give us menus.”
“We don’t need them. I ordered ahead.”
“My surprise,” she guessed.
That cocky smile might be the death of her. When he smiled like that, she wanted to sit in his lap and kiss him forever.
“You’ll see. I planned the whole evening.”
“To sweep me off my feet?”
“We both know all I have to do is kiss that spot on the side of your neck, and you’re mine.”
“Actually, all you have to do is look at me that way.”
“Which way?” He swept his heated gaze over her face and down to her breasts. They went heavy, and her nipples tightened. She caught herself before she licked her lips, anticipating his touch.
“That way,” she said, notching her voice down into a deep, seductive octave.
Blake swallowed, leaned forward, and clasped his hand to her thigh under the table. “Stop, or we’ll never make it through this dinner.”
She giggled and batted her eyelashes. “What? I didn’t do anything,” she said, all innocence in her voice.
His fingers squeezed her leg and swept up toward her hip. She sucked in a breath and let it out on a sigh when his thumb caressed the inside of her thigh inches from where she really wanted to be touched.
“Okay stop,” she pleaded, though the words held little conviction. She laid her arm on the table, palm up. He pulled his hand from her thigh and gently ran his fingertips down her arm to her palm and settled his warm hand on hers.
“For now.” The husky tone in his voice promised so much more. Later.
She loved the anticipation building in her stomach, like a colony of bats swirling at the entrance of a cave before they took flight into the night.
To distract herself, she reached for her purse to take out her phone. “Oh no. I left my purse in the car. I promised Justin he could call my new cell to say goodnight.”
Blake pulled his keys from his pocket and rose. “I’ll go get it.”
She stood and grabbed his hand. “No. I’ll get it. Sit. Relax. You’ve planned such a wonderful evening. I’ll be right back.”
He leaned in and kissed her. “Hurry up. I don’t want to miss a minute of tonight with you.”
Unable to resist his simple, yet lovely, request, she kissed him again and took off for the door to retrieve her clutch. Other guests stared at her abrupt departure, but she didn’t care. As Blake had ordered, she hurried to get back to him. Right where she wanted to be.
She weaved her way through the cars in the parking lot, unlocked Blake’s truck, and snagged her purse off the seat. She locked up, turned back to the restaurant, and took a few steps before a movement to her left caught her attention. A man stepped out between two cars, wearing a black leather jacket and
black jeans. His face was in shadow, but his golden hair gleamed bright from the overhead light.
“Gillian.”
That voice. Her father’s voice. The fear swamped her from her toes up to her head. Suffocated, she opened her mouth to scream, but nothing came out. The man took a step toward her but stopped when she took three back. Afraid he was real, terrified he wasn’t, she ran for the restaurant entrance. The hostess’s eyes went wide when she rushed through the door and slammed it behind her.
“Are you okay?”
Gillian sucked in a ragged breath and tried to pull it together. “I’m fine.” She cast her gaze to the floor and walked through the dining room toward her table with her purse clutched to her chest.
She stopped steps from the table when Blake said, “She’s my girlfriend.”
“Robbing the cradle these days, Blake?” a soft woman’s voice asked.
Gillian looked up and noticed for the first time the beautiful blonde standing next to the table. Someone who obviously knew Blake very well.
He frowned. “She’s an amazing woman. You’d like her. She’s tough, like you.”
Blake didn’t mind running into Abigail. He hated the guilt that seeing her unleashed deep inside him, where he tried to bury it most days. The scar along her jaw would forever be a reminder of how being wild in his youth had almost cost her her life. Since that disastrous day, he’d played things straight. Reined in his reckless nature for a more cautious and thoughtful existence. Look at his relationship with Gillian and the way he tried to protect her, keep her safe, give her the time and space she needed to settle into their relationship. It worked. She trusted him now. He’d do anything to keep that bond.
“She’s pretty. What’s her name?”
Blake caught a glimpse of Gillian’s dress behind Abigail. He leaned to the side and didn’t like the scared, unsure look on her face. He rose to go to her before he consciously thought about it. Every instinct to protect her flared to life despite the fact that he didn’t see any danger, or reason for her pale skin and wide, fearful eyes.
“Gillian, sweetheart, are you okay?” He wrapped his arm around her shoulders and pulled her to his side.
“Fine,” she said too fast. Yeah, he knew that false “fine” all too well. He’d get the little white liar to fess up in a minute.
“Gillian, I’m so pleased to meet you. I’m Abigail. Blake and I go way back.”
Blake dreaded the explanation ahead. He didn’t want his past to intrude on his night with Gillian. He’d planned a romantic evening. Something special she’d never done with anyone else. A night for them to remember.
“Uh, hi.” Gillian held out her hand to shake, but her gaze stayed on the scar on Abigail’s face.
Abigail took her hand, turned Gillian’s arm, and stared at the scars on Gillian’s shoulder and neck. “Did he dare you to a race, too?”
Gillian pulled her hand free. “No. I hit a car,” she said automatically.
“I hit a tree,” Abigail said back. “Not Blake’s fault, but he’s going to tell you that it was.” Abigail turned her focus to him. “I didn’t listen to you. I didn’t stop. I took the risk because I wanted to beat you.”
Blake didn’t know what to say. Everyone told him, including Abigail, that the accident wasn’t his fault. He’d never believed them, but tonight he saw that fateful day more clearly and realized he owned part of the responsibility, but she had her part to bear, too.
Abigail glanced at Gillian and back to him. “Things happen for a reason. I’m here tonight with my husband.”
“How is Gary?” Blake asked, happy she’d found someone special.
“Wonderful. We’re celebrating. Two years married, and I’m pregnant.”
“Congratulations. You deserve every happiness,” Blake said, genuinely meaning those words.
“So do you, Blake. Gillian, so nice to meet you. I saw the smile you put on this one’s face when you came in earlier. I’ve never seen him smile like that.”
Gillian glanced up at him and back to Abigail. “Nice to meet you, too. I’m sorry I’m not myself right now. I hope to see you again.”
“You will. Small town and all. Enjoy your evening.”
Abigail squeezed his forearm as she passed and gave him a smile. Blake held Gillian’s chair for her and took his seat beside her again. The other patrons went back to their meal now that Blake, Abigail, and Gillian weren’t the center of attention.
Blake took Gillian’s hand and squeezed to get her attention. “What happened?”
“Nothing,” she said automatically. He waited her out. “I, um, saw someone.”
“Who?”
Her gaze finally came up from her plate to meet his. “My father. It happened again. Like with Gabe. I got confused, or my mind played tricks on me . . . I don’t know.”
“Gillian, did someone come up to you outside? Did they touch you?”
“No. No. Nothing like that. I’m not even sure anymore if someone was really there. I’m sorry. It’s nothing. Really. Let’s not spoil the evening.” She took a sip of her drink. Her eyes went wide on him. “Is this peach iced tea?”
“Your favorite.”
“It’s nice they serve it here.”
“They don’t. I got it for you.” Blake picked up his beer—the first one he’d had in front of her—and took a deep swallow. She didn’t even notice or comment.
“You got me my favorite tea?”
“Just wait. That’s not all.” Blake cocked his head toward the waiter, who held a huge platter of food balanced on his shoulder and hand. The other guests smelled the food and stared.
Blake and Gillian waited for the dishes to be served.
“Every diner in the place is going to be jealous of you two. Enjoy,” the waiter said and left them to their meal.
Gillian stared at her plate. “It’s like a seafood explosion.”
“All your favorites, right? Lobster, crab, mussels.”
“Who knew you could get seafood like this at a steak house in Montana?”
“Well, it’s not impossible, but I had this flown in from San Francisco just for you.” Tears glistened in her eyes. “I know how much you miss the city. I wanted to bring a piece of it here to you. You didn’t even have to unload the fish off the boats to get it,” he teased to make her smile.
“I can’t believe you did this.”
“Well, I had help,” he admitted. “Ella owns a house in San Francisco. She was there about a month ago and raved about a restaurant. I told her what I wanted to do, and she put me in contact with the chef at Gerard’s. He put the food together and shipped it overnight.”
“Gerard’s is one of the most exclusive restaurants in San Francisco. Blake, this must have cost you a fortune.”
By far the most expensive thing he’d ever done for a woman. He’d never planned anything like this for anyone. “Do you like it?”
“I love it.”
“Then I’m happy to do it for you.”
Watching the way her eyes went soft with pleasure while she ate lobster dripping with butter made him wish they weren’t in a crowded restaurant. Everything she did made him want her more.
She licked the sheen of butter from her lips, placed her elbow on the table, laid her chin in her cupped palm, and stared at him. “You’re quiet, and you’ve barely touched your meal. You keep staring at me like that, I’ll blush knowing you’ve undressed me in your mind.”
Blake smiled. “Busted.”
“I told you I freaked out in the parking lot, so spill it.”
“What?”
“Tell me about Abigail and whatever wasn’t your fault but you think it is.”
“You saw the scar on her face. She’s got a few others you couldn’t see. We dated when we were seniors in high school. She loved to ride with me. She loved the speed
but always wanted to beat me.”
“Let me guess, no one ever beat you.”
“A bunch of us used to get together and party in the fields. Bonfires and beers.”
“Hook-ups and heartbreaks,” Gillian said, understanding, even though she’d missed out on so much of her teenage years hanging out with friends, making stupid mistakes, and never worrying about the consequences of anything.
“It was dusk when Abigail showed up at my place so we could ride over to where everyone was meeting. I had the horses saddled and ready to go. She had a wild streak to match mine. Maybe the two of us together were a disaster waiting to happen. I don’t know. I do remember I was the one who dared her to race me to the west pasture gate. A big storm came through two days before and knocked down a tree, blocking the road. When I saw it, I reined in and yelled for her to stop. She didn’t. She thought she could jump it. I knew she couldn’t, because the horse I gave her always shied at jumping anything. Ten feet from the tree, he slid to a stop and sent her flying over his head. She flipped in the air, hit her head on the trunk, and landed in a tangle of arms, legs, and tree limbs. A branch sliced open her face along her jaw. Several others cut up her arms and back. Not anything like what happened to you. Still, some nasty cuts.
“We weren’t that far from where we were meeting our friends. They heard the horse scream when it stopped and threw Abigail. I whistled as loud as I could to make sure they came to help. I didn’t want to move her. She was out cold. My buddies showed up in their pickup, and we used a two-by-six board he had in the back to slide under her, strap her on with our belts at her head, waist, and feet.”
“Why didn’t you call for an ambulance?”
“Too far out of town. It would have taken them an hour to get to her. Although she was knocked out, she was breathing on her own. We worried about her spine but played the odds that her head was the worst of the injuries. We drove her back to my house, picked up my dad, called the hospital to have them waiting for her and give us advice about what to do. An ambulance met us on the road in, and we transferred her to them. They got to the hospital. She remained in a coma for three days until the swelling in her brain went down.”
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