by Jennie Marts
She equally hated the thought of putting him out by having him drive up there to pick her up. The idea of him carrying her sounded fun and romantic, but the reality was that she was tall and curvy and would be humiliated when he realized he couldn’t carry her two yards, let alone all the way back to the lodge.
Gnawing on her bottom lip, she weighed her options of possibly being assaulted by a serial killer who didn’t mind the rain against the inconvenience of making Mason go back to the lodge and get his truck against the humiliation of climbing on his back and risking him falling to the ground under her weight. “I think I’ll just take the risk of messing up my feet.”
“What? No way. You can’t walk back down there in your bare feet. Not with this rain. Just let me carry you.”
“I can’t.”
“Why not?”
She let out a heavy sigh. “You do realize I’m not some cute, little petite thing.”
He reared his head back as his eyes widened. “Are you worried I’ll drop you? You seriously think I’m not strong enough to carry you back down this path?” He let out a hard laugh. “Darling, I’ve carried half-grown calves that weigh more than you across my shoulders through acres of fields.”
She raised an eyebrow at him, and his laughter died.
“Not that I’m insinuating you weigh as much as a half-grown calf or that you in any way resemble a cow…” he fumbled.
She squeezed her eyes tightly shut, then let out her breath. “Oh, all right. Shut up, and I’ll let you haul me down the path on your back.”
A grin spread across his face. He pulled off his cowboy hat and plunked it on her head. “This will help a little.” He gestured to her skirt. “I’m not getting fresh, but when I turn around, you’re probably gonna have to hike your skirt up a ways.”
She swore she could practically see the blush covering his cheeks. But she kind of liked it.
“All right. As long as you’re not getting fresh.” She couldn’t help teasing him a little. Really, who wouldn’t want to get fresh with a woman who was barefoot and soaked to the skin, in a borrowed shirt, with mascara running down her face and her hair in a dripping, tangled mess under a too-big cowboy hat? Seriously, she couldn’t imagine herself looking any more unattractive than at that minute.
A loud crack of thunder shot through the night as a flash of lightning lit up the sky.
“That was close. Let’s go.” He turned and bent down a little.
Oh hell. She pushed her arms through the sleeves of his jacket, then heaved her bag higher on her shoulder. After hiking up her skirt, she wrapped her arms around his neck and crawled onto his back piggyback-style.
His muscled arms circled her legs, hoisting her higher onto his back. “You ready?”
No. Not even a little bit.
She had to admit she’d fantasized about having her legs wrapped around his waist, but this wasn’t what she’d had in mind. “I’m ready.”
“Hey, Tess,” he said, turning his head. A trickle of rain dripped from a lock of his dark bangs, and he gave her a roguish grin. “You may not be petite, but I do think you are a cute little thing.”
Before she could respond, he stepped out from under the tree and let out a whoop as he jogged down the path. She shrieked as the cold rain pelted her back and gripped his shoulders tighter.
He didn’t seem to be buckling under her weight. In fact, he didn’t seem to be weighed down by her at all, and she let out a burst of laughter as he splashed through a puddle on the sidewalk.
“What a crazy night,” he yelled, and she could feel his shoulders shake as he laughed with her.
They made it off the path and stopped to let a truck pass before they crossed the road. Realizing a second too late what was going to happen, Mason tried to take a step back as the truck hit a giant puddle and sprayed a shower of muddy water across his front.
“Oh no,” Tessa cried, letting out another burst of laughter.
“You think that’s funny, do you?” He laughed with her, then turned so she was facing the road as another car drove toward the puddle.
Letting out another squeal, she clung to his back, burying her head in his neck as she hunched her shoulders.
But at the last second, he wheeled back around, protecting her with his body and taking the shower of water against his chest. “Hold on.” He gripped her legs tighter and made a run for it across the road.
Both of them were hooting with laughter as he yanked open the door to the lodge and stepped inside. The noise of the reception hall receded as everyone seemed to stop talking at once to take in the appearance of a huge, bedraggled, and soaked cowboy with an equally bedraggled and drenched woman clinging to his back.
“You can put me down now,” Tess whispered against his ear. He released her legs, and she slid to the floor behind him. She was sure they made quite a sight. Mason’s black hair dripped with water, and his soaked white shirt revealed his muscled chest.
But while he looked like an ad for Hot Cowboy magazine, she could only guess how she looked. Wearing his too-big jacket and his hat lopsided on her drenched head, she shifted from one bare foot to the other as she tried to pull her skirt back down to an acceptable length above her knees.
Taking a small step back, just so she wasn’t pressed against him anymore, she tried to stay behind him, letting his larger body shield her from the stares of the partygoers.
But he didn’t seem embarrassed at all. In fact, he let out a loud whoop. “Whew. It’s raining cats and dogs out there, folks. Ms. Kane and I have officially tested out the forecast for you though, and we are recommending you stay inside and dance off more of that great barbecue. Isn’t that right, Tess?”
He started to step to the side as if giving her a chance to speak, but she grabbed the back of his shirt, gripping it in a tight fist to hold him in place. Her pulse pounded in her throat, sweat formed on her already-damp back, and her mouth went as dry as cotton as she used her other hand to offer a little wave, then continued to cower behind Mason. As much as a five-foot-nine woman could cower.
He gave her a questioning look.
But after she offered the slightest shake of her head, her lips pressed tightly together, he must have gotten the message that she had nothing to say. That, and he might have felt the trembling in her hand as she still held the back of his shirt in a death grip.
“See, she agrees. Now if you’ll excuse us, we’re going to go find some towels.” He ducked his head at the crowd, then signaled for the band to play some music.
Buck and his group headed for the stage, and the noise of the crowd recommenced.
Mason turned to her. “You okay?”
“Yes-s-s,” she said, her teeth chattering together.
He wrapped an arm around her and led her down the hallway. “Come on. Let’s get you warmed up. They have one of those hand dryers in the bathroom. That should help.”
The door marked LADIES’ ROOM was on her right, and she stopped in front of it, holding up her hand in case he had any idea of coming in with her. “I’ll take it from here. I just need a few minutes.” She took off his hat and passed it to him, a trickle of water leaking from its brim. “Sorry.”
He chuckled. “It’s fine, really. It’s not the first time a hat of mine has seen rain.”
She suspected from the new look of brushed felt that it was the first time this one had.
“You get cleaned up. I’ll try to find you a sweatshirt,” he told her.
“I’ve got dry clothes. They’re just locked in my car.”
“Okay, I’ll work on that too. What kind of car do you have?”
“An old Ford Taurus.”
“American made… That’s good. Does it have a key fob or just electronic locks?”
She shook her head as she uttered a sarcastic laugh. “Neither. When I said old, I meant it’s a really ol
d car, an ’89. It was my grandmother’s, and I don’t think electronic locks and key fobs were even invented when that thing rolled off the line.”
He chuckled. “The good news is that a car that old should be easier to unlock. I saw one of the county deputies here earlier. I’ll see if he’s got a slim jim. That should get us right in.”
She reached out a hand and rested it on his arm. “Really. You don’t have to. You’ve helped me enough already.”
“I’m glad to do it.” He offered her a wink, then pushed his hat onto his head and walked back toward the reception hall. He might have been wearing a black hat, but he sure seemed like a white knight to her.
But she was far from being the damsel in distress. Well, she might be in distress, or under duress, but instead of feeling like a damsel, she felt more like a swindler, a fraud, a phony. No better than those con artists who’d tricked her grandmother into giving them all her money.
Okay, maybe she didn’t feel quite as bad as that, but she still felt shitty. Shitty that she was tricking this nice guy, using him to get to his brother to get a stupid story. The problem was that she needed that stupid story.
Her shoulders slumped, and she let out a sigh as she pushed through the door of the ladies’ room. Her sigh turned into a gasp as she caught a look at herself in the mirror.
Holy Hagsville. She was a wreck. Most of her hair was plastered to the top of her head, except for the pieces that were sticking out in curly, frizzy wings from the side. She looked as if she was preparing for takeoff.
Any traces of her mascara were gone, except the faint trail of a black smudge on one cheek. A smear of dirt covered the edge of her chin.
Her shirt—well, Mason’s shirt—was plastered to her skin, and she silently applauded him for not gawking at the definition of her black lace bra that was clearly visible through the soaked blue fabric.
Her bare feet and legs were splattered with mud and bits of gravel, and a long scratch made its way down one of her calves from where she’d brushed her leg against a pine tree as they’d made their way down the path. She had to smile at the thought of how hilarious they must have looked and also of how much fun she’d had with Mason. Her lipstick had faded, but her cheeks held a healthy pink glow. Or maybe that was just the blush of thinking about how it’d felt to be pressed against Mason’s muscled back.
Grabbing some paper towels, she tried to wash the dirt and remaining makeup off her face, then cleaned as much mud from her legs as she could.
Thankfully, she carried a huge purse that was fully stocked. In addition to the normal stuff like her wallet, insurance cards, sunglasses, and mints, she also carried a supply of gum, a nail file and clippers, a can of Mace, a hairbrush, hair spray, notebooks, pens, coupons, and way too many lip glosses.
MacGyver would have a field day with her bag.
The items in her bag had saved her more times than she could count. She only wished she’d stuffed in an extra set of clothes.
She did have an emergency makeup kit and took a minute to brush on a little eye shadow and a few swipes of mascara. Mimi had taught her that lipstick was the most important tool in her makeup arsenal, but the dark-berry shade she had chosen to match her ruined shirt seemed a bit too much for her current state. She smoothed on some spearmint-infused gloss instead.
Unfortunately, she’d left her hairbrush and spray on the seat of her car after she’d done a quick hair refresh when she’d arrived in town. Hitting the hand dryer, she turned the nozzle so it pointed at her hair and used her fingers to try to comb through the wet strands.
The bathroom door opened, and Mason’s mom came in with a stack of dish towels.
She held them out to Tess. “You poor thing. You’re soaked. I raided the lodge’s kitchen, but this was the best I could come up with. I’m Vivi, Mason’s mom. I saw you all come in, thought you could use a hand.”
“That’s so nice of you. I’m Tessa. Tess. You can call me Tess. These are great.” She didn’t know why she was stuttering or why her nerves seemed so jumpy. Just because Vivienne James was a mom didn’t mean she’d be able to tell that Tess was there for nefarious reasons. Not every woman had that uncanny mom sense. But for some reason, she thought Mason’s mom just might.
Feeling guilty about mussing up the white dish towels, Tess took only one and tried to dry her legs.
“Here. Let me help.” Vivi set the stack of towels on the bathroom counter, then grabbed one off the top and pressed the ends of Tess’s hair into its folds. “Your hair is gorgeous.”
“Thank you. I’m such a mess.” Wow. She was killing it with her conversation skills. This was her chance to learn more about Rock’s family, to ask some questions of the matriarch—the woman who knew everything. But instead of asking anything, Tess was unnerved by the motherly attention of a woman helping to dry her hair.
“You all really got caught in it. You’ve got to be careful with these Colorado thunderstorms. Up here in the mountains, they can come out of nowhere and come on fast. Where are you from, honey?”
“I’m from Denver.”
“You and my son sure seemed to be having a good time. How do you two know each other?”
The question came out innocently enough, but Tess wasn’t fooled.
Apparently Vivienne was on a bit of a fishing expedition of her own.
Chapter 5
Tessa tried to think of a reasonable response but was saved from having to answer Vivi’s question by a loud knock at the door.
“You still in there, Tess?” Mason’s voice called through the crack. “I found a sweatshirt for you.”
She pulled the door open and watched his eyes widen as he saw her standing there with his mother.
“Hey, Mom.”
“Hi, honey. I was just helping out your new friend here.”
“I’ll bet,” he muttered under his breath. “I appreciate that, but she’s not really my new friend. Tess and I go way back.” He offered her a quick grin, then held the door open wider for his mother. “Thanks, Mom, but I got it from here.”
His mom held her hands up in surrender. “Just trying to help. Nice to meet you, Tess.” She offered Tess a smile as she squeezed past her son, who was still standing in the open doorway.
He glanced toward the two stalls. “Anyone else in here?”
She pushed both doors open. “Nope. Just us.”
“Good.” He let the bathroom door shut behind him and stepped closer to her as he held out a hooded zip-up sweatshirt and a pair of flip-flops. “This was the best I could do. I found the sweatshirt in my truck, so I can’t guarantee it doesn’t smell like horses, but at least it’s dry. And Quinn had an extra pair of sandals in her car.”
“Thank you, really. But you didn’t have to do this.” She wasn’t used to this much attention. First his mom, now Mason.
“I know. But it was my idea to take a walk. We wouldn’t have gotten caught in that storm if we’d stayed inside.” He pulled a thin metal tool from his back pocket. “I found a slim jim too. So we can get your keys out of your car.”
“Thanks. Again.” What else could she say? She was standing in her bare feet, shivering in wet clothes. The small bathroom was already crowded enough with her and the tall cowboy; there was no extra room for her pride.
She took the sweatshirt and shoes and set them on the counter, then gestured for him to turn around. “I feel like we’ve been here before.”
“Right?” His eyes narrowed, and his grin went all cocky and flirty. “Seems to me that since this is the second time in one night you’ve gotten half-naked with me, I should be allowed to watch.”
A flash of heat soared up her spine, and her stomach filled with dive-bombing butterflies. She swallowed at the sudden dryness in her mouth and tried to play it cool.
Even though all she felt was hot.
What would happen if she really did
let him watch? If she slowly unbuttoned her shirt and let it drop to the floor?
She imagined him shoving the stack of towels off the counter and hoisting her onto it. She could almost feel his lips on hers, imagine the rough scrape of whiskers against her chest as he kissed her neck. Her hands were reaching for the top button of her shirt before she came to her senses.
She knew what would happen. And even though it might be amazing, toe-curling passion, it would still be on a bathroom counter in the Masonic Lodge at his brother’s wedding party. Which might be deemed spontaneous and sexy, but also degrading and demeaning. And she’d had enough degrading and demeaning in her life.
A hard fist squeezed around her heart, stealing her breath and tightening her chest.
Pushing those thoughts aside, she tried to breathe and refocus on why she was here. Why spending time with Mason and his family really mattered. She couldn’t risk messing up this article. Not this time. She needed to stay sharp. Stay focused.
“Good try, cowboy,” she said, planting a hand on her hip. “Now turn around.”
His grin widened and he shrugged, then turned his back to her. “You can’t blame a guy for trying. Seems like if you’re going to keep getting undressed in front of me, I should get a little something out of the deal.”
Tess ignored his remark and tried to concentrate on getting out of the wet shirt. But his comment must have affected her more than she wanted to let on, because her fingers trembled as she fumbled to unfasten the buttons and peel the damp fabric from her skin.
The sweatshirt was too big, but it was warm and dry and felt heavenly against her cool skin. She pulled the zipper up to cover her bra, then crossed her arms over her chest and rubbed the dry fabric against her arms.
She dropped the flip-flops to the floor, praying they would fit. The curse of the tall girl. Slipping her feet into them, she let out a sigh of relief that they fit perfectly and sent up a silent thanks that Quinn was tall as well.