“Me, too. Bye, Rosie.”
The line went quiet before Rosie could reply. Cleary when Sara Maria decided a conversation was over, it was over. Rosie tucked her phone into her pocket. “Did you hear that? Your sister’s been hired to work two days a week at a local bakery.”
“Is that so?” Brant looked skeptical. “I hope whoever did the hiring knows what they’re getting into.”
“The day she baked those pies she also rearranged my cabinets. I was skeptical but I have to admit it’s a lot more functional now. Your sister knows her way around a kitchen. I’m sure she’ll be fine.”
“All the same, I better pay a visit to this bakery. Make sure they know Sara Maria needs to be supervised.”
“Are you sure that she does?”
“I told you about all the smoke alarms she set off, right?” Brant opened a fresh can of paint, then climbed back up the ladder.
“Well, I’ve done dumb things, too. Left a candle burning once all night long. I was lucky it was sitting on a glass table and not wood.”
“This is different, Rosie. Trust me.”
They returned to their painting. After he finished his current section, Brant moved around the corner. It seemed hardly any time had passed when Rosie noticed how long the shadows were getting. By seven Brant suggested it was getting too dark to do a proper job. They cleaned up and then crashed with exhaustion on the front porch.
“I feel guilty about you working so hard on my house when you could be doing things with your sister.”
“Rosie, please, let’s not go through this again. Sara Maria and I have our routine. Our Friday night dinners and movies work well for both of us.”
Rosie saw no point in arguing, even though she disagreed. She remembered her mom telling her once that some people were just no good with babies. They were so afraid of doing the wrong thing, they couldn’t just relax and enjoy.
It seemed Brant was like that with his sister. And maybe he always would be. It was a depressing thought.
“Come on, darlin’, we’ve been working real hard. How about we go to Grey’s Saloon and kick back for a few hours—have some beer and do some dancing?”
Despite her exhaustion, Rosie was tempted. She’d checked her messages earlier and Daniel was thrilled with the new ending. That meant she could take the entire night off for a change.
“Hm. I guess that means I need to take a shower.”
“I could help with that.” He stood, then held out his hands to her.
“You could. But you won’t.” After Rosie allowed him to pull her up, she pointed him in the direction of her parents’ bedroom. “Fresh towels are in the en suite.”
“And where are you going?”
“My bathroom is down the hall, cowboy. And you are not invited.” Rosie smiled before turning her back on him.
Brant gave out a mock groan of disappointment.
Once in the shower, however, Rosie couldn’t help wondering. How much longer would she have the willpower to hold Brant at arm’s length?
Even though she thought he was misguided about his sister, every time she saw him she was falling a little deeper. Then there was her upcoming move to L.A.—assuming her house sold. There were so many reasons for her to be putting the brakes on this new relationship.
Yet here she was, going out with the guy for a night of drinking and dancing.
And she couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt so happy.
*
Monday night football was playing when Rosie entered Grey’s Saloon on Brant’s arm. She felt pretty tonight, partly because she was wearing another of the outfits she’d ordered with Portia online—a floral dress with a cute, denim jacket, paired with her favorite cowboy boots—and partly because of the way Brant kept looking at her.
Before they even sat down Rosie saw someone she knew. “See that woman laughing over there? That’s my real estate agent.”
As soon as Brant turned to look, Maddie spotted them and waved them over.
After Rosie made introductions, Maddie said, “I drove by your place this morning and noticed you’re in the process of repainting. Smart move.”
“I should have listened to you sooner,” Rosie admitted.
“Better late than never. I’d like to meet with you later this week. Discuss some strategies to drum up some buyers. Would lunch on Wednesday work?”
“Sure.”
“Maybe you could bring a little something from the chocolate shop for dessert?”
Maddie winked and Rosie laughed. Maddie was a self-professed chocoholic and one of their best customers. “That goes without saying, Maddie.”
After a bit more chat, Brant led Rosie to the bar where they ordered beer and chicken wings. A group of off duty firefighters was at the table behind them, having fun but making a bit too much noise. Brant suggested they move into one of the corner tables. The farthest one was already occupied by a man with a languid posture, nursing a beer.
“Looks like he’s had a rough day.” Brant commented as they moved to the other corner.
“That’s Trey Reyes. He’s an investigator. I wonder if he’s working a case?” She glanced around the room trying to guess who could be the subject of Trey’s scrutiny.
“Maybe he’s just a guy who wants a beer?” Brant touched the tip of her nose. “Let me guess. You liked to read Nancy Drew when you were a child.”
“Not in particular but I did love mysteries. I wanted to be Harriet the spy so badly. For about a year I pretended I was.”
“That must have been cute.” Brant pushed the plate of chicken wings toward her. “You need to eat, girl. You worked hard today.”
Yes, she had worked hard, but sitting here with Brant, so close their thighs were touching, made food the last thing she cared about. Fortunately, the game finally went into halftime and someone lowered the volume and started up a Zac Brown song on the juke box. She didn’t even have to hint. Brant was already standing, holding out his hand.
“Would the lady like to dance?”
“Hell, yes.”
She could tell within ten seconds that Brant was a natural on the dance floor. He had moves with his two-step she’d never seen before, but Brant was so adept at leading she floated and swayed right along with him.
The next song was slower, and Brant pulled her in nice and tight, resting the side of his face against the top of her head. She felt like they were riding a wave on the ocean, both of them clinging together, generating a pulsing, electric heat that wiped every rational thought out of her head.
When the firefighters called out that the game had started and could someone please turn up the volume, Brant suggested they leave. He left money on the table, then put his arm around her shoulders, holding her like she was something precious to him.
The night air was fresh and the autumn leaves crunched under their feet as they walked the five blocks back to Rosie’s house. A lot of houses were decorated for Halloween already with pumpkins and lights and witches and ghosts. Rosie directed Brant to the longer route along Bramble Lane, where the larger estate homes were especially well decorated.
All except one house, however, dark and neglected among the other fine homes, and almost hidden from view by ancient pine trees.
“What’s with this place?” Brant asked.
“Judge Kingsley lives here. He’s a bit of a curmudgeon though, to be fair, Mom said he was a pretty decent guy before his grandson died in some sort of awful tragedy. I’m not sure of the details.”
A gust of wind caused the branch of one of the trees to make a peculiar moaning sound and Rosie started.
Brant’s arm tightened around her. “Don’t be scared, Rosie. I’ll protect you from the evil spirits.”
Yes, but who will protect me from you?
Not that she wanted protecting. She’d already decided this would be the night. She was crazy about this cowboy. She’d been the good daughter for long enough. This was her chance to live. To enjoy life to the fullest.
On the front porch, he pulled her close again and kissed her.
This kiss was different from the others. Needier. Harder. It turned her limbs to jelly and set her heart on fire.
“I’ve probably had too much beer tonight to drive back to Bozeman,” he whispered next to her ear. “You know anyone who might put me up for the night?”
She put her arms around his waist and gazed up at him. “You didn’t need to play that card, cowboy. You had me at hello.”
*
When it came to making love, living for the moment meant appreciating every inch of a beautiful woman. What Brant realized that night, as he took Rosie to her bed, was that she might well be the most beautiful woman he’d ever known. The key to her appeal was in her eyes and he found himself staring into them a lot that evening.
He needed to know what she liked, how she felt, what she needed. Her eyes told him all of that.
And a lot more.
“Don’t be shy. Don’t hold back. Not with me, Rosie.”
She trusted him.
He made love to her not only as if it were the first time, which it was, but like it was the last time as well, which he certainly hoped it wasn’t. Still, their time together would be limited and he wanted each moment to count. To be real and special.
Later, when he’d given her every pleasure it was in his power to give, he held her in his arms and watched her fall asleep.
Though he wasn’t usually given to the sort of ruminating that kept a man awake at night, Brant didn’t drop off nearly as quickly. Insomnia wasn’t so bad, though, when he had Rosie to feel and watch.
Every now and then his thoughts strayed to next week, to the snows of November, and the Christmas holidays.
Where would Rosie be by then?
No. Don’t think that way.
And finally he slept.
*
“Rosie, I’m not in any position to give out romantic advice. But what’s going on with you and Brant?” Portia asked.
Rosie continued to measure coffee grounds into the machine. It wasn’t yet eight but Portia had forgotten to pack her makeup kit and since she still had a key, she’d let herself in. She’d walked in apologizing, but her words had died out as her gaze travelled from Rosie’s tousled hair, to the white oversized t-shirt she was wearing—which happened to be Brant’s—and finally to Brant’s truck parked in the back.
Brant was still sleeping and all Rosie wanted was to put on some coffee then crawl back into bed with him. She’d been with a few men before but what she’d experienced with Brant last night had led her to understand what women meant when they said a man had “rocked my world.”
Her world had been rocked all right.
And she wanted it to happen again.
“It looks like things are getting pretty serious. Will this affect your decision to move to L.A.?”
“My plans haven’t changed,” Rosie said calmly, closing the lid on the machine and pressing the start button. “I’m living in the moment. Having some fun for a change.”
Portia leaned her back to the counter and crossed her arms over her chest. “That’s fine for some people. But I’m not sure it’s your style.”
“It hasn’t been. But I’m tired of being dull Rosie, the dutiful daughter. While I was giving my father twice-daily insulin injections, driving him to his specialist appointments in Bozeman, and preparing all his meals, other kids my age were out having fun, dancing, drinking, romancing. I’m long overdue in the fun department.”
“I hear you. But I’ve done all those things you wish you’d done. Flirting with guys, drinking too much, dancing all night… In the long run none of that made me happy.”
Portia stroked her belly pointedly. “You’ve got to be careful Rosie.”
“We used protection, if that’s what you mean.”
“Glad to hear it. But it’s not as easy to protect the heart. Believe me, I know.”
That gave Rosie pause. She studied her friend more closely, noticing the shadows under her eyes, the frailness of her shoulders. In just the short while she’d known Portia, she was pretty sure she’d lost a few pounds.
“How was your first night at the Circle C? Did you sleep well?”
Portia shrugged. “I slept some.”
“And have you eaten yet this morning?”
“Way to turn the tables. I thought I was the one giving the lecture here.”
“You care about me, and I appreciate that. But I’m worried about your lack of appetite and the effect on the baby.”
“I was, too. But Doctor Bennion says it’s not uncommon for a woman to lose a bit of weight in her first trimester as the body adjusts to the onslaught of all those hormones.”
“Okay. Good to know.”
The two friends smiled at each other.
“Now, I’m sorry I killed your good mood. I’ll just grab my makeup and be out of here in a sec.” She was halfway down the hall when she remembered something. “Could you drop by the chocolate shop this afternoon? The men from the Two Old Goats wine store have sent us their list of pairings and I’d love to show you.”
“Will do.” As Rosie waited for the coffee, she heard Portia enter the guest room that had been hers, then leave through the front door.
Shortly after that running water sounded from her bathroom, signaling Brant was up. The moment to join him in bed was lost. But they could still have breakfast together.
Rosie took two mugs from the cabinet, her mood not quite as cheerful as before. In her heart of hearts, she knew there was some truth in what Portia had said. She was taking a calculated risk by getting so involved with Brant. But it was too late now to change what had happened. And no matter how it ended, Rosie couldn’t imagine ever regretting last night.
As she popped in bread for toast, Brant came up behind her and his arms encircled her waist.
“Good morning, gorgeous. Were you talking to yourself?”
She turned around so she could see his face. The shadow from his two-day beard only made him look more attractive.
“That was Portia. She dropped in for some stuff she’d left behind yesterday.”
“No doubt she saw I’d spent the night. Did she approve?”
“Not really. But she’s gone through some rough times lately with her own love life. She was just trying to protect me.”
“Aren’t you happy with what happened last night?” He slid his hands up her arms to her shoulders and looked deeply into her eyes.
“Very. And you—”
“Would have been happier if you were still in bed when I woke up. But you made coffee, so I forgive you.” He kissed her on the nose, then went to the coffee machine and filled their mugs.
“Peanut butter or jam on your toast? Or would you prefer some eggs?”
“Whatever you’re having will be fine.”
“Peanut butter it is.”
They took their coffees and toast to the backyard, so they could admire their handiwork while they ate breakfast.
“It’s really looking great, isn’t it?”
“Yup. With you helping the job is going faster than I expected. I’ll put the first coat of aqua on the front door today. I bet we have the entire house finished by Friday.”
Within twenty minutes they were painting again. As she worked, Rosie wondered how Sara Maria’s first day at the bakery was going. She could tell Brant was thinking the same thing when he said, “At noon I’m going to drop by that gingerbread bakery place. Can you tell me where it is?”
“You going to check on Sara Maria?”
“And talk to her boss. Make sure she knows what she’s getting into.”
“I’ll only tell you where the bakery is if you promise to be tactful.”
“Aren’t I always?”
Rosie groaned. “It’s on Main, just down from Grey’s Saloon. But please, Brant, try to not embarrass your sister. This job is important to her.”
Chapter Fifteen
Rosie decided to walk dow
ntown with Brant. While he checked in at the bakery, she could stop in at the chocolate shop and review the wine pairings list with Portia. She made Brant wait while she washed and changed into clean jeans and a turquoise tunic with pretty embroidery at the neck and along the sleeves. This was the last of her new purchases and she had to admit Portia had steered her right in all her choices.
“I’ll grab us something to eat at the bakery,” Brant promised, when it came time to separate.
“Great. And I’ll buy us some lattes at the Java Cafe.” Rosie knew she’d need a caffeine pick-me-up if she hoped to be productive this afternoon.
“Black coffee for me,” Brant reminded her.
He gave her a smile and a kiss, then went on his way. Rosie hesitated outside the entrance. A poster advertising the Dark Magic Chocolate and Wine Tasting event, from seven to nine on the night of October thirty-first had been affixed to the front window display. Portia had done a great job with it. The colors, the fonts, the layout, all looked professional.
“Buy your tickets inside,” the poster said.
Impulsively Rosie decided to purchase two tickets for herself and Brant. Was it tempting fate to gamble that they would still be seeing one another more than two weeks from now?
She hoped not.
Inside she found Portia chatting with two women who each carried a paper bag with the Copper Mountain Chocolates logo. It seemed Portia was also trying to convince the women to sign up for the tasting.
“That sounds lovely,” one of the women said. “But I need to check with my husband.”
“Me, too,” said her friend, who might possibly have been her sister.
With their pageboy hair styles and medium-sized frames, the women looked remarkably similar.
“If the men don’t want to go, you could always have a girls’ night out,” Portia said brightly.
“That might be fun! Olivia, what do you say? Should we do it?”
“Why not?”
While Portia took care of the paperwork, Rosie slipped into the kitchen area. Sage was filling pumpkin-shaped molds with creamy milk chocolate, a delicate operation Rosie knew better than to interrupt.
Melt My Heart, Cowboy (Love at the Chocolate Shop Book 1) Page 13