A Maverick to [Re]Marry

by Christine Rimmer

  Just like a woman, she hung back. “But I—”

  “Closer.” He laid her hand, palm flat, on his shoulder. “Don’t move that hand.” For that, he got an eye roll, but her palm stayed where he’d put it. It felt good there. It felt right. He almost let himself imagine a lifetime’s worth of her soft hands touching him. But he didn’t, not quite. No reason to get too carried away here. “Now, give me the other one.”

  “But, Derek, what do you—”

  “Come on. Humor me.” She offered her hand cautiously. He took it, opened her fingers and rested it on his other shoulder. “There.”

  She looked deliciously doubtful. “Now what?”

  He clasped her waist. “It feels good.” His voice came out gruff though he hadn’t really meant it to. “It feels good to have your hands on me. To touch you. Nothing ever felt as good as touching you, Amy.”

  “Derek,” she whispered, and somehow managed to put a thousand tender meanings into just saying his name.

  “Amy.” He swooped down and claimed himself a quick, sweet kiss, after which he announced, “I want to be with you, too. Exclusive secret friends, just the way you described it. With benefits—maybe. When the time is right.”

  She wrinkled her beautiful nose at him. “You’re not just messing with me? You really mean it? You won’t change your mind and stay away from me for days on end?”

  He should have sense enough to let that stand. But he’d never had much sense around her. “It was only two days—okay, three if you count today.”

  She tipped her head to the side and slanted him a narrow-eyed look. “You were staying away, though, weren’t you?”

  “I was thinking it over, as we agreed.”

  She blew out a hard breath. “I can see this is an argument you’re never going to let me win.”

  “You’re right. I’m not. I’m also not messing with you. I meant what I said. I’ve thought it through and, if you agree, I won’t be keeping my distance anymore. I want to be with you, too. For the next two weeks, you and me.”

  “And if either of us is too busy or whatever and we can’t be together, we’ll keep in communication?” Her eyes were almost golden right then. Golden and shining.

  “Yeah,” he said. “We’ll be together, be honest with each other, see where it takes us.”

  “Starting right this minute.” She slid those soft hands up around his neck. Her cool fingers stroked the short hair at his nape. “Kiss me again.”

  He couldn’t comply fast enough. Her lips were so soft and sweet. And her body fit against him as if she was born to be his. She opened for him eagerly and he tasted her more deeply, savoring the warmth and wet beyond her parted lips.

  And that time, when he lifted his head, she asked, “Are you still in the bunkhouse at the Circle D?”

  He touched her hair, so silky and warm. For the next two weeks, he would touch her a lot. Touch her everywhere, he hoped—eventually. When the time was right. “I built my own place a few years back. My brothers and cousins pitched in to help me, along with some friends who work in construction. It’s not a big place, not fancy, but it’s mine, you know?”

  “I would love to see it.”

  “Now?”

  “Yes.” Her smile took his breath away. “I’ll text Eva to let her know that I’ll be out late. And then I’ll follow you home.”

  Chapter Six

  Once they turned off the highway onto Circle D land, Derek led the way in his pickup along the winding dirt ranch road past the main house, the barn and the bunkhouse.

  Amy followed him, bumping along, trying her best to avoid the ruts. They skirted a pretty, rolling meadow. The house stood on the far side of the meadow, with a big cottonwood in the front yard. Sided in natural wood, it had a long front porch and three gabled windows breaking up the roofline.

  Derek circled the cottonwood and parked facing back toward the highway. She followed him around the tree and pulled to a stop behind him. It was about eight by then, still light out. But the sun had gone behind the mountains and the pale moon rode high in the blue expanse of the Montana sky, the orange fingers of sunset beginning to color the wisps of clouds above the crests of the distant peaks.

  An almost-white Labrador retriever came down the front steps, tail wagging. Derek, already out of his pickup, stopped to greet the dog, who gazed at him adoringly as he scratched the ruff at the animal’s neck.

  Amy got out and shut her door. “I didn’t know you had a dog.”

  “I don’t. Meet Buster. He belongs to Willa and Collin, but every once in a while, he takes off down the mountain and comes here or goes to the Christensen place.”

  The Christensens were Willa’s family. Actually, Willa and Collin were kind of an unexpected match: Willa the good-girl kindergarten teacher and Collin Traub, who never met a rule he wouldn’t break. “I was surprised when Eva told me that Willa and Collin got married.”

  “So were a lot of people. They got together during the big flood.” The flood had swept through Rust Creek Falls and the surrounding valley. Half the town had to be rebuilt afterward. “And now Collin and Willa have a son named Robbie and a dog who likes to wander.” He grinned down at Buster.

  “He’s a beautiful dog.” Buster seemed to preen at her praise. He sat back on his haunches and stared up at her expectantly. She knelt to pet him.

  “Watch out. He’ll drool all over your dress.”

  “I don’t mind.” She scratched his head and let him swipe his big tongue across her cheek. “Why don’t you have a dog of your own? Seems only right, now that you have your own place.”

  His gaze scanned her face, a look both slow and appreciative. “I’m at the saddlery half the time now. Wouldn’t be fair to keep a dog cooped up there.” He held down his hand to her. She took it, loving the warm, intimate feel of his fingers closing around hers. “Let me show you the house.”

  Buster trailing along in their wake, Derek led her up the steps. At the door, he ushered her in first. The dog slipped around them both and headed off down the hallway that opened up to what looked like a great room at the far end.

  They stood in the small foyer area for a moment. She admired the handsome oak staircase accented with iron balusters and asked, “How many bedrooms are up there?”

  “None right now. It’s an unfinished attic. I figure I can fix it up, divide it into bedrooms, even put in another bath if I ever need more living space.”

  If he ever needs more space...

  Her mind went where it probably shouldn’t—to the idea of Derek, married. Maybe with children.

  Uh-uh. She blinked the thought away. It was too dangerous on too many levels.

  “This way,” he said.

  He ushered her into the dining room, to the left of the entry and through there to the kitchen, breakfast nook, great room and two bedrooms. The furniture was basic, in a mishmash of styles.

  “It’s really nice,” she said, “comfortable and inviting.” There was even a big-screen TV above the natural stone fireplace.

  He reached out and slid a hand under her hair, curving his strong, work-roughened fingers around the nape of her neck and pulling her in close to him. His lips brushed her cheek and his breath was warm in her ear. “You smell like heaven. Always did.” An arrow of pure happiness darted straight through her heart at his whispered words. They shared a long, sweet kiss and then he lifted his head and captured her gaze. “Are you hungry?”

  “A little.”

  At their feet, Buster whined and wagged his tail.

  She leaned her head on Derek’s shoulder. “I think you’d better feed Buster first.”

  He pressed his lips into her hair. It was an absolutely lovely moment and she let herself revel in it.

  Too soon, he released her to fill one bowl with water and another with kibble. “Yeah,” he replied to the question she hadn’t even asked. “Buster stops by a lot and so I keep food on hand for him.” He set the full bowls down and Buster went right to work gobbling hi
s dinner. “I’d better let Collin know that his dog stopped by for dinner.” Derek took out his phone and sent his friend a text.

  When he stuck the phone back in his pocket, she said, “I want to help with the food.”

  “Works for me.”

  He made pasta with marinara sauce and Italian sausage. She tossed a quick salad with the lettuce and vegetables he had in the fridge, set the table and grated the parmesan.

  Her phone buzzed with a text as they sat down to eat. She would have ignored it, but he said, “It could be important.”

  So, she checked. “It’s Eva. She says we should have fun.”

  “Let me guess. There’s a winky emoji followed by about ten hearts.”

  “I’m beginning to think you know her as well as I do.”

  He laughed. “Tell her I said hi.”

  As she typed a quick response, another text came in. She sent her reply to Eva and brought up the new message.

  L.A. Noire. Tonight. Your house? I’ve got a nice Pinot Gris with your name on it.

  She tapped out a quick reply. Sorry. Out of town for a few weeks.

  Damn, woman. I was really in the mood to take you down.

  Right. Like that’s ever gonna happen.

  Ping me.

  Will do. Later.

  She hit Send and glanced up to find Derek watching her. “A friend in Boulder. We play video games sometimes. He didn’t know I was out of town.”

  Those green eyes were cool suddenly. “This friend got a name?”

  “Jonas Baldwin.” She picked up her fork again. “I met him in graduate school. We’ve stayed friends in a casual way.” Derek just went on looking at her, his mouth a flat line. She thought of Myra, back at the Ace, and of how much she’d needed his reassurance that he had nothing going on with Myra. “Honestly, Derek. Jonas and I are in no way, shape or form, a thing and we never have been. We double-dated once—he took the girl he was dating at the time and I went with a friend of his. I see him maybe five or six times a year. He’ll call and if I’m not doing anything, we get together, him and me and my Xbox One.”

  Derek just went on looking at her for several extremely uncomfortable seconds. Annoyance sizzled through her that he didn’t believe her when she was telling the truth. He had no reason not to take her word for it—not to mention, he had zero right to be jealous. They’d only been exclusive for about two hours.

  But then he asked, “Who wins?” and his mouth curved into that panty-melting grin.

  Her heart lifted. “Are you kidding? I wipe the floor with him every time.”

  He tipped his beer at her. “Now, that’s what I wanted to hear.” The doorbell chimed. “That’ll be Collin looking for Buster.” He got up and pushed his chair in. “Be right back. Come on, Buster.” The dog followed him down the central hall.

  Amy let them go—and then felt uncomfortable. As though she was hiding there in the kitchen. From Collin Traub, of all people. Back in high school, Derek was every girl’s handsome heartthrob. Collin was the dangerous one, the forbidden fantasy, with his jet-black hair and dark, knowing eyes. Just as many girls dreamed of him as wanted Derek.

  Not Amy. It had always been Derek for her.

  And right now, what mattered was that she knew him, knew Collin, and even if she and Derek were keeping this thing just between them, the least she could do was show her face at the door and say hi to an old schoolmate.

  She slid her napkin next to her half-finished plate, pushed back her chair and followed the sound of men’s voices to the front door.

  Collin, just outside the door with his dog waiting patiently at his feet, caught sight of her first. “Amy Wainwright.” He gave Derek a strange, narrow-eyed look, then aimed his killer smile at her. “How you been?”

  “Hi, Collin. I’m doing well, thanks.”

  As she stepped up beside him, Derek shot her a questioning frown, which she’d kind of expected after she’d made such a big deal back at the saddlery about the two of them keeping their relationship on the down low.

  Amy shook Collin’s hand. “Good to see you.”

  “Must be your Audi, then,” he said, shooting another significant glance at Derek.

  Derek grunted. “Why are we standing here at the door? Come on in. I’ve got a longneck with your name on it.”

  “Better not. I have to get back.” But Collin stayed where he was and his gaze shifted her way again, his dark eyes watchful. “It’s been a long time.”

  “Yeah.” She rushed into the usual chitchat, the stuff you say to people you never knew all that well and haven’t seen in more than a decade. “So, you and Willa Christensen, huh?”

  “That’s right.”

  “I always liked Willa—and I know this is long overdue, but congratulations, Collin.”

  “Thanks.” Collin’s guarded expression relaxed a little. “She really is the best thing that ever happened to me.”

  “And I understand you have a little boy—oh, and you’re the mayor now, too?”

  He smirked. “Never saw that coming, I’ll bet.”

  “True.” After all, Collin had been the classic high school bad boy. He partied hard, broke a lot of hearts, drove too fast and got in trouble with the sheriff more than once. “You never seemed like someone who would get into politics.”

  Collin laughed at that. “Talk about an understatement. Most of my life, not only would I never have considered running for public office, I never would have believed that anyone would vote for me.”

  “So, what changed?”

  “I married Willa,” he said with pride. “I had ideas for what I thought needed fixing around here and my wife decided I should step right up and make it happen.”

  “You’re happy,” Amy said softly, glad for him. “It’s good to see how well things worked out for you.”

  “Can’t complain.”

  Derek started to say something, but Collin went on before he got a word out. “What took you so long to come back to town?” He was looking faintly disapproving again.

  “Long story,” she said, and left it at that.

  Collin’s dark eyes seemed to look right through her. “I think I heard someone say you’re here for the wedding?”

  “I am.” She rushed on. “It’s been so good to see Eva, to get a chance to reconnect with old friends. Delphine and Calla and their families will be here next Friday. I can’t wait to see them.”

  “And after the wedding, then what?” Collin didn’t sound hostile, exactly. Just skeptical—and wary, too.

  Derek muttered, “Come on, man.”

  Collin locked eyes with him and said almost gently, “It’s a reasonable thing to ask.”

  Amy answered Collin’s question, more or less. “I live in Boulder.”

  “So, a month in Montana reconnecting with old friends. Then back to real life.” It was the truth, even if Collin Traub made it sound like something downright shady.

  Before she could reply, Derek muttered, “Enough.” He and Collin shared a look that seemed to speak volumes—about what, exactly, Amy couldn’t be sure.

  Collin took a step back. “You’re right. I should get moving. See you Monday. Amy, you take care now.”

  “Thanks. You, too.” She gave him a big smile. Because she really had nothing against Collin. No need to make an issue of his weirdly disapproving attitude.

  Collin went down the steps, Buster at his heels, headed for the crew cab parked beside her SUV.

  Derek shut the door.

  She faced him. “Let me guess. Collin remembers that we used to be together in high school.”

  “Yeah.” Derek headed to the kitchen. She fell in step behind him.

  They took their seats at the table. He sipped his beer and she debated trying to go on as if the conversation with Collin hadn’t happened.

  He made the decision for her. “Go ahead. Ask me.”

  She took a fortifying sip of ice water and set the glass down with care. “How much does Collin know about you and me?” />
  He drank again. “That you were my girl and it ended when you moved away.”

  “That’s all? He seemed a little too suspicious of me, like I did something bad to you.”

  “Maybe you’re imagining things.”

  “Am I?”

  He stared at her across the table for a few seconds that seemed to go on forever. And then he admitted, “The night I heard that you and your family had left for Colorado, I went out drinking.”

  “With Collin?”

  “At some point, I met up with him. By then, I was really blasted. We ended up at this bonfire with a bunch of kids from Kalispell. I might’ve said a few stupid things to him and he might’ve gotten the idea that you ripped out my heart and chopped it into tiny pieces.”

  She had a strong urge to defend herself, to argue that he wasn’t the only one who’d ended up with a ripped-out heart. But they’d been there, said all that—twice, as a matter of fact. No reason to hash it out all over again.

  Instead, she asked, “So then, that night you got so drunk, you told him we’d been married?”

  “No. I don’t think so.”

  “You don’t know?”

  “Didn’t I just say I got really drunk?” He glared at her. “In case you haven’t heard, drunk people sometimes say and do things they later can’t remember.”

  Did she blame him for being annoyed with this conversation? Not really. He had to be sick of rehashing the past. She certainly was. But she did want to understand Collin’s attitude at the door. “So, you might have told him we were married, but you doubt it.”

  “That’s right. I can’t be absolutely sure of what I said or didn’t say. But if I’d slipped up and mentioned that we’d run off and gotten married, I’m thinking he’d have brought it up to me by now.”

  She poked at a slice of sausage with her fork. “He seems like he’s a really good friend to you. A true friend, you know?”

  “Look.” His voice was hard. “Just tell me. Are you pissed off that I might have told Collin you married me once?”

  “No. If you did tell him, I understand why.”

  “You sure?”

  “Positive. I mean, it was a bad time. You probably needed to talk to someone and Collin’s your friend.” She thought of Eva. Of Delphine and Calla. They were her true friends, yet she’d never told them the truth about the past. Guilt jabbed at her, that she’d kept the secret for so long, that she would probably go right on keeping it. “At the door just now, Collin asked about my car. What was he getting at?”