by Kate Pearce
“Why do I care anyway?” she murmured to herself.
“What did you say?” January leaned in. “It’s really loud in here. I hope Jay makes his move soon because I want to go home to bed.”
“Me, too.”
“Should I ask BB to encourage him along?”
“Why not?” Yvonne finished her cocktail. “If it doesn’t happen soon, I’m going to fall asleep right here at the table and miss it all anyway.”
January patted her shoulder. “Don’t worry. I’ll wake you up.” She walked over to where Blue Morgan was chatting to his brother Ry. There was a lot of gesticulating and pointing, and then BB set off toward the bar.
Moments later, a piercing whistle echoed through the room, and BB jumped on a chair.
“Everyone, listen up! Jay’s got something to say.”
As the bar fell silent, Jay emerged from behind the bar and headed straight for Erin, who was sitting at the table next to Yvonne. He awkwardly got down on one knee and held out a small blue velvet box.
“Erin, will you marry me?”
It felt like the whole room held their collective breath as Erin stood up, her cheeks flushing with color, her hands clasped to her chest.
“Yes. Yes, please. I’d love to marry you, Jay Williams.”
And then there was chaos as Jay swept the future Mrs. Williams into his arms and kissed her like there was no tomorrow. Yvonne dabbed discreetly at a tear and saw January doing the same. They grinned at each other in solidarity.
“I love a wedding,” January sniffed. “Especially if they choose to have it at our ranch.”
“Me, too,” Yvonne agreed as she attempted to conceal a yawn behind her hand. “Excuse me. I’m just so tired. I’ll congratulate the happy couple and then I’m off to bed.”
She hugged all her girls good-bye, kissed the bride-to-be on both cheeks in the approved French fashion, and made her way out onto the sidewalk. The town was quiet now, the traffic almost nonexistent. Strings of fairy lights decorated the fronts of the shops and buildings, giving the street a nostalgic look that never failed to make Yvonne smile.
Rio was sitting on one of the steps that led down off the boardwalk, talking on his cell in Portuguese; his head was bowed, exposing the crisp line of his black hair. He eventually switched to English.
“Yes, I’ll see you then. Thanks for letting me know.”
Yvonne considered her options. The bar was on the corner of Main and Morgan so she could cross the other way to get back to her café. But when had she turned into the kind of woman who was afraid to talk to a man? Banter and flirting came as easily to her as baking. But, with Rio, something deeper was stirring, and that was making her wary.
Just as she hesitated behind him, he finished the call and stood up, his gaze level with hers because he was on the bottom step.
“Hey.”
She pointed in the general direction of her store. “I was just leaving.”
“I’ll walk you.”
“There’s really no need. It’s literally right over there.” She pointed out her shop.
He shrugged. “You never know who might leap out at you from a dark alley.”
“An enraged customer who hated my croissants?”
“Maybe.”
“Or the soufflé strangler?”
His appreciative wicked grin made everything female in her sit up and beg. She decided not to make a big deal out of his protective instincts.
“Okay.”
He held out his hand, and it seemed like the most natural thing in the world to take it. They crossed Main Street, went past the post office and the bank, and arrived at the front door of her café. The outside chairs and tables were stacked inside the locked shop at night for safety, leaving the sidewalk bare.
“I usually go in the back.”
He didn’t break stride, just carried on walking right beside her around the end of the row and back along the service road that connected all the shops. There was a security light over her door that flared into life when she stopped to find her keys.
She unlocked the door and quickly punched in the key for the alarm before turning back to her unusually silent companion.
“Is everything okay?”
“It will be.” His smile was perfunctory. “My mother is coming to San Francisco.”
“That’s good, right?” Yvonne said cautiously. “You’ll get to see her.”
“She’s only coming because my father wants to discuss her financial arrangements again.” He sighed. “And that means I’ve got to be there as well, which is the last place I ever want to be.”
She snapped on the kitchen lights and retook his hand. “Why don’t you come in and have some hot chocolate?”
He stared down at their joined hands. “Are you sure about that?”
“Letting you in my place?” She smiled. “I think you’ll behave yourself.”
His expression stilled. “I’m not as confident as you are.”
“Then we’ll stay down here, have some chocolat, and if you get fresh with me I’ll stab you with one of my very sharp kitchen knives.”
“Sounds like a plan.” He cupped her chin. “You’re driving me nuts, you know.”
“How come?”
“Because I can’t stop thinking about you.”
Yvonne allowed herself a moment to enjoy the intensity of his words before returning to the matter in hand.
“We’ve agreed that this is a lousy time for either of us to get involved with anyone,” she reminded him.
“I know that.” His smile was crooked. “It doesn’t seem to be helping much.” He hesitated. “Is it just me?”
“No.” She sighed. “You’re a terrible distraction.”
“Good.” He let his victorious smile speak for itself.
“No, it’s not good. We are sensible, rational people who have weighed the risks and realized there is no future for a potential relationship.”
“Agreed. Then why do I still want to kiss you?”
Now she was staring at his mouth. “I don’t know.”
He bent his head, giving her all the time in the world to duck away before he gently set his mouth over hers.
This time, she welcomed him in, his taste already familiar and wanted. She hummed as he gathered her in his arms and deepened the kiss, giving back everything he offered her with each stroke of her tongue against his. At some point, his hat hit the ground, but neither of them cared as he kicked the door shut behind him, and they just kissed like desperate teenagers making out in the schoolyard.
He was the first to pull out of the kiss.
“This is not helping me maintain my cool.”
She bit his lip, and his whole body flexed against hers, making her all too aware that he was aroused and ready to take things further. And, oh God, she wanted to do that so much....
“Cocoa,” she murmured while he kissed her nose, her eyes, and her cheek, and as his hand cupped her breast, and thumbed her nipple.
“Yeah.”
She didn’t want to let him go. She had to let him go.
“We’ve got to stop together, okay?” she said firmly. “Or this isn’t going to work. We’re adults, not oversexed teens.”
“Sure feel like a randy teen right now,” he muttered roughly as he reluctantly moved his hand away. “Just hope I don’t embarrass myself.”
Her fingers clenched on his hip, wondering whether she dared explore the possibilities of the hardness contained in his jeans. He was like some roller-coaster ride she couldn’t get off. She forced herself to think about Paul, of the way he’d seduced her, of how she’d felt so addicted to touch, and sex, and . . .
“Okay. I’m calm now.” She put both hands on Rio’s chest and pushed him away. “We’re stopping.”
He didn’t attempt to take her back in his arms, but she could see the need in his brown eyes. He was breathing hard, one hand clenched into a fist. He took another step back.
“Hot chocolate it is then.”
* * *
Rio sat at the table while Yvonne made the cocoa the old-fashioned way in a pan on the stove with proper milk and added whipped cream and shaved chocolate on the top. It was soothing watching her work, and gave him a much-needed moment to tell his aroused body to knock it off and get back into the friend zone.
He was thirty-one, and no longer a horny teenager, but he sure felt like one. He’d never met anyone in his life who affected him so intensely. Was this how his parents had felt when they’d met and “fallen in love” within a week? If it was the same, then all the more reason to be wary of such wasteful false emotions. He didn’t trust lust and instalove. How could he?
“Here you go.”
“Thank you.”
She put the hot cocoa in front of him and took the seat opposite, folding her hands together on the table. She was wearing her favorite navy-blue striped top, and had her hair caught up in a messy bun on the top of her head that somehow still looked sophisticated. She yawned and immediately covered her mouth with her hand.
“Sorry. It’s way past my bedtime.”
He checked his watch. “Mine, too. Don’t worry. I won’t keep you long.”
Her smile was warm and slightly skeptical. “Under other circumstances, I might want you to keep me up all night, but now I’m a responsible business owner and you’re a professional bull rider, and we have commitments.”
“I know. It sucks.” He sipped his drink, which was delicious. “When did you get married?”
She gave him a sharp look. “I knew you wouldn’t let that go.” She sighed. “I was nineteen, living and studying in Paris, and I fell in love with a French guy.”
“So how did you end up back here alone?”
“Basically, after living in California for a while, he decided he didn’t like it and wanted to go home to France. I didn’t agree.”
She spoke lightly, but he could see the residual hurt in her green eyes.
“It’s a shame that he couldn’t reach a compromise with you.”
“Like six months here, and six there? He wanted to start a new business, and argued that he couldn’t give it his all if he wasn’t there year round. I got it. I felt the same way.”
“Do you stay in touch?”
Rio wasn’t sure he wanted to know the answer to his question, but he just had to ask.
“Not really. He’s moved on and made quite a reputation for himself over there.”
“Well, if you become a celebrity chef on TV, you’ll be way more famous than him.”
She regarded him gravely over the rim of her mug. “I hadn’t thought of that.” A slow smile emerged. “He’d probably hate it.”
Rio clinked his mug against hers. “Atta girl. My mom always says revenge is a dish best served cold, and she should know. It took her years to extract a divorce settlement from my father.”
“I think I’d like to meet your mother.”
“She’d love you,” Rio said promptly. “If things go smoothly with my father, maybe I can persuade her to come out to the ranch for a few days.”
“That would be lovely.”
He grimaced. “If I can tear her away from the shops.”
“I like her more every minute.” Yvonne licked cream and grated chocolate from her spoon, and he couldn’t look away. “Stop it.”
He raised his gaze to hers. “Can’t help it. You just press all the right buttons for me.”
“Why is that?”
“I don’t know.” He sat back and tried to regard her dispassionately. “You’re beautiful, you’re funny, and you’re smart as a whip. What’s not to like?”
She smoothed her hair back from her face. “I wish we weren’t both so busy.”
“Or so scared of relationships—for very good reasons on both sides.”
“Am I scared?” she asked, her green eyes serious. “I suppose I am. There’s nothing like discovering the love of your life is an illusion.”
“Or that your parents hate each other’s guts,” he agreed.
“I can never understand how some people just forget the past and let themselves go through all that hurt again and again,” Yvonne confessed.
“Me neither. Not that I’ve ever risked trying it in the first place.”
She sat up straight. “You’ve never had a long-term relationship?”
He shrugged. “I’ve had lots of girlfriends, some of them long term, but I never thought of any of them as likely to become permanent.”
“I bet that went down well.” Yvonne rolled her eyes.
“Not really. They fell into two camps. The ones who worked it out fast and just enjoyed our time together, and the others. . . .” He hesitated, but she waved him to go on. “The others who’d start dropping hints about engagement rings, or leaving wedding magazines around the apartment.”
“Even though you’d made it clear that you weren’t in it for the long term?”
Rio nodded. “I’m not trying to make myself out to be a hero here, but I always tried to be upfront about it.”
“It’s okay. I’m not getting at you.” She sipped her cocoa. “Some people think they can change someone’s opinions if they just keep working away at them. It rarely works. Especially in a marriage.” She sighed. “I thought Paul would want to stay in the USA forever, even though all the signs were there that he really missed his homeland. I ignored them because I was young, stupid, and in love. I thought I could persuade him to change who he was.”
“See, that’s the thing, isn’t it?” Rio agreed. “Even with the best of intentions, someone always gets hurt.”
“But getting hurt also teaches you what you don’t want,” Yvonne said. “If I ever get into another serious relationship I won’t be so naïve or allow myself to be hurt so badly.” She gathered the empty mugs together. “That’s why I thought Matt might be the best option for me.”
Rio tried to stay neutral while wondering why the hell he was having to discuss Matt right at this particular moment. “He’s definitely a good guy.”
“But?” Yvonne asked.
Rio shook his head. “You can’t expect me to defend my competition, or badmouth him.”
“I suppose not.” She stood and looked down at him, her gaze uncertain. “Lately, a lot of my good friends have gotten serious with men, and even married them.” She paused. “And some of them have overcome far greater problems than I have ever done.”
“So?”
“It’s made me doubt myself.” She hesitated, biting her lip. “Maybe we aren’t the sensible ones who avoid relationships so we don’t get hurt. Maybe we’re the cowards.”
He held her gaze. “Yeah, maybe we are.”
She turned away to put the mugs in the sink, and he got to his feet.
“Would you like me to wash those for you before I go?”
She looked over her shoulder as she ran the faucet. “That’s really sweet of you, but I like to clean up my own kitchen. I’m fussy like that.”
“So I’ve heard.” He walked over to the sink, and dropped a kiss on the top of her head. “Thanks for the cocoa.”
“You’re welcome.”
He studied her perfect features, noticing the tiredness in her eyes even as the words slipped out. “I don’t want to go.”
“Even if you stayed, I’d still be asleep in about three seconds flat.”
“Luckily for you, I’m not that desperate, but it’s damn close.” He smoothed his thumb over her mouth. “I’d much prefer you awake and willing.”
“Then you’ll have to start going to bed around eight in the evening.”
“Eight?” He leaned in for a slow, careful kiss. “I was thinking six at the latest.”
She gently pushed him away. “Go home.”
“If I must.” He turned toward the door. “Don’t forget to arm the alarm when I’ve gone.”
“I won’t.”
She followed him to the door, and he snatched another quick kiss before she finally shut him out. The town was quiet
around him, the night air still cold even in the early summer. He considered walking back to the bar, where things were still hopping, but wasn’t in the mood for company.
He crossed the street, taking his time to get to his truck, which was parked in the lot behind the bar usually filled with tourists in daylight hours. Was Yvonne right? Was he a loser who was afraid to commit to a relationship? At least she had tried. He had never made the attempt or put in any effort in his love life.
He stopped to find his keys and clicked to open the door of his new truck. Well, if he was a coward, at least he was in good company.
Chapter Seven
“Okay, everyone, settle down, and welcome to the quarterly meeting of the Morgantown business and community liaison project.”
Chase Morgan smiled at the assembled townsfolk and local ranchers who had gathered in the church hall, and clicked to reveal the first slide of his PowerPoint presentation. Rio, who was sitting beside BB near the back of the hall, heard a groan.
“Jeez, Chase is going to talk for hours, isn’t he? How many slides do you think he’s got queued up this time?”
Ruth, who was sitting on Blue’s other side, nudged her grandson. “Be quiet, BB, and listen to your brother.”
“I’ve been listening to him for years, and he still makes no sense,” BB grumbled, and settled further into his seat.
Rio had to disagree. Chase was obviously used to addressing meetings and was moving rapidly through an update of all the plans Morgan Ranch had set in motion, and how they were affecting the local community. From what Rio could remember, some of the locals, including the Hayes family, who owned the hotel, had been worried about loss of revenue when the guest ranch opened its doors.
If Chase’s graphs and charts were correct—and knowing his technical abilities, Rio had a sense they probably were—it looked like the ranch was adding to the prosperity of the area rather than diminishing it, offering more employment, local produce, and visitors who liked to shop and dine in the town.