He met her gaze without hesitation. “We can’t pretend it didn’t happen.”
Or might again. Aware how much she wanted him now—just as she had all day—Erin finished stitching the top of the filigree and stood. “You’re thinking of kissing me again, aren’t you?”
He slid her a long look. “I said I wouldn’t seduce you into anything you didn’t want.”
And he hadn’t. Trouble was... Erin took a deep breath, deciding maybe it was time she was a little more forthright. “What if I’ve decided I might have been a tad hasty?”
He smiled seductively. “I’m open for anything.”
“Really?” Aware she was trembling slightly, she took his hand and drew him to his feet.
He gave her a once-over that kicked her pulse into high gear. “Really.”
“Then come here.” Throwing caution aside, she drew him into her arms. “And let me find out if what we felt last night was as excellent as I remember.”
Chapter Eight
Mac hadn’t come to her studio intending to kiss her. But now that the offer was on the table, and it was her idea, he was all for it. Shifting her nearer, he lowered his head and claimed her mouth with his. Needing to feel close to her again, he moved his hips against hers and delivered a deep, demanding kiss, savoring the softness of her body and the sweet taste of her mouth until Erin and he were both breathless. And then he kissed her some more, taking everything she had to give, giving her everything in return.
They were both sighing in pleasure, wanting more, and Mac was about to let her go long enough to lock the door, when Gavin burst in.
“Erin? I— Whoa.” He glowered at Mac. “Again?”
Embarrassed, Erin stumbled backward. Mac lifted a staying hand. “Before you go off half-cocked, Gavin, this was mutual.”
“I can see that.” Her brother swung around to Erin with narrowed eyes. “I thought you should know the kids are all still awake. They’re up in the game room, with the lights off, watching some sort of kid comedy on TV and giggling like crazy. The boys tried to tell me they had permission from you, but since it’s ten o’clock and tomorrow is a school day, I figured not.”
“You figured right.” Erin flushed. “I’ll take care of it.”
“I’ll go with you,” Mac offered.
The two of them hurriedly left the studio.
“You want to talk about this?” he asked as they moved through the sprawling ranch house.
She thrust out her jaw. “No.”
“Okay.”
Erin kept going. They reached the game room and saw that the kids were just as her brother had described.
“Uh-oh,” Sammy said.
Stevie, clearly punch-drunk with fatigue, giggled. “Busted!”
Heather laughed, too, apparently having too much fun to react to her father’s frown.
“You all know better,” Erin stated firmly.
“We couldn’t help it. We weren’t tired,” Sammy said, already getting up to turn off the TV.
“You have school tomorrow,” she reminded them.
“Daddy, can you lay down with me for a while, so I can go to sleep?” Heather asked.
“Yes, but that doesn’t mean you’re not in trouble,” Mac said, taking her gently by the hand. “Because no matter what house we are in, the rules are still the rules.”
He had a good point, Erin thought as she put her boys to bed. Rules were rules, and she hadn’t been following any of her usual self-imposed restrictions since she’d met Mac.
If she kept acting so recklessly around him, she was going to have her heart broken all over again. And she really could not handle that.
* * *
MAC EMERGED from the bedroom, where his daughter was finally asleep, to find Gavin waiting for him in the living room downstairs. He gestured for Mac to join him.
“Maybe I didn’t make myself clear earlier,” Gavin said. “My sister has been through a lot.”
“Losing her daughter.”
“And having to put up with her louse of an ex-husband.”
Ah, G.W. “None of you seem to like him, except for the boys.”
Gavin scowled. “The boys seem to have largely forgotten—which is probably a good thing for them—but G.W. treated them all really badly when their baby sister was sick.”
Mac tensed. “What do you mean?”
“I don’t want to get into the details. That’s for Erin to tell you—or not.” Her brother’s jaw set. “The point is, she’s vulnerable. So are the kids. To have them all depend on having you and Heather around, or think this is going to lead to long-term happiness, is a mistake.”
Was it? Mac wondered. Given email, videoconferencing and social media, it was easy to keep up with friends—no matter where they were. Plus he had the financial means to return to Texas for visits.
A long-term relationship was possible. If it was what everyone wanted. And he was beginning to think, given the intense way Erin had just been kissing him, that it was. “So what is it you would have me do?”
“Stop pursuing her romantically. My sister doesn’t need to have her hopes raised, only to be left again.”
“Gavin!” Erin interrupted, storming into the room. “None of this is for you to decide.”
“I won’t apologize for looking out for you,” he grumbled.
“I’m a grown woman!”
“With a heart that’s way too big.”
Erin rolled her eyes. “You guys are all the same. You worry too much. Seriously, bro, I can handle this.” She turned toward Mac. “A word? Outside?”
Erin switched on the lights in the yard and led the way out the back door. She looked so grim and determined, Mac couldn’t help but joke, “Taking me to the woodshed?”
She tossed an indignant look over her slender shoulder. “To check on the horses. Given the fact you’re working on your cowboy credentials and all.”
The ranch horses had been turned out to pasture with plenty of water when they’d arrived home from their ride. Feed had been put out an hour after that, and now the half-dozen beauties were grazing sedately in the pasture next to the barn. Mac walked through the yellow glow of the outdoor lighting into the softer moonlight. “You going to bring them in for the night?”
Erin rested her arms on the pasture fence. “Not when it’s so warm. I’ll leave the barn doors open. Any horses who want shelter can have it. But most of the time they like to stay outside and enjoy the cool breeze at night—and maybe go inside in the shade if it gets too hot during the day.”
“You’ve got it all worked out.”
Her lip curved ruefully. “Horses are easy. Families are hard.”
“Talking about Gavin?”
Finally, Erin turned to face Mac. “He means well.”
“I know.” Mac rested a forearm on the wooden fence and faced her, too. “I didn’t take offense.”
Erin searched his eyes. “What did he tell you?”
Mac shrugged. “That G.W. treated you and the kids badly when Angelica was sick. None of your siblings have quite forgiven him.”
Erin’s laugh was bitter. “That’s pretty clear.”
“And yet you have?”
She gestured helplessly. “It’s complicated.”
Mac moved closer, fighting the urge to take her in his arms. “Do you want to talk about it?”
She shook her head, looked away. He could feel her shutting down emotionally. “No,” she said finally, looking out across the pasture again. “I want to talk about us. About what is going to happen when I don’t sell the ranch to North Wind Energy.”
This was news. “Have you decided that?”
“No. But I haven’t decided I will, either. So...back to my question. If I say no?”
“I’ll respect it.” Mac touched her hand so she would look him in the eye. “Seriously. I have several other properties I am also looking at, and have talked with the owners. Like you, they are undecided, but I think I can work it out somewhere in Laramie County.
And now that some of the county commissioners are on board...”
“But if it doesn’t work out? For whatever reason.”
He shrugged. “Then I’m on to my next assignment.”
Silence fell. “Which would be?”
“Philadelphia.”
Erin’s brows knitted together.
“I’m going to request a position where I don’t have to travel as much.”
“Is that possible?” she asked skeptically.
“For lower pay and less responsibility, sure.”
There was another pause, this one longer. “You’d do that?”
Mac exhaled. “Heather needs me more than she needs a big house in an exclusive neighborhood—or a prestigious private school—so yeah, I’d do that. I’m going to do that. For me, family is first, Erin.” And it would be from now on.
She smiled. “For me, too.”
* * *
“I GOT YOUR EMAIL and I’m absolutely horrified by what happened to you Friday evening!” Louise Steyn said over the phone Monday morning.
Mac had been afraid his boss would overreact.
“No sale is worth the health and welfare of one of our employees,” she fumed.
“There’s not going to be anymore trouble, because Prairie Natural Gas knows if there is, they’ll be fired immediately, and out of the running for any future business in terms of the expansion.”
“What’s this about oil on the Triple Canyon Ranch?”
Briefly, Mac explained G. W. Decker’s pitch to his ex-wife and her siblings. “Since the Monroes still hold the mineral rights, there could be money for them that way, too.”
“Enough to turn down our proposal?”
Mac sighed. “Initially they rejected the idea out of hand, largely because of what it would do to the land. Putting the wind farm on the property poses the same problems. It would destroy the tranquility they enjoy now.”
“So find them a smaller ranch closer to town that’s for sale.”
“It’s not that simple,” he said.
“It should be.”
Silence fell.
“Mac, are you sure you’re all right?” Louise cleared her throat. “You sound like you’re in over your head, and I never thought I’d see the day that happened.”
Mac hadn’t, either. He’d spent his entire life trying to pull himself out of the poverty and chaos of his childhood, and through hard work and determination, had largely succeeded. Mainly because he forced himself to have a laser focus on whatever professional goal he set.
Now, thanks to the kindness of Erin Monroe, and her friends and family—as well as the many residents of Laramie, Texas—his views were much less pragmatic.
He couldn’t stop thinking about how much he and Heather liked being here, or how much they had all enjoyed their Sunday afternoon ride on the ten-thousand-acre ranch. Texas—which had initially felt so foreign and folksy to him—was now like home. Erin was a definite romantic possibility.
And that was a shock.
He hadn’t expected to get involved with a woman again, not until his daughter was grown and living on her own, anyway.
“Do you still want us to send the technical team to survey the property and prepare the estimated cost for the county commissioners?”
“Absolutely,” Mac said. The sooner the business was done, the sooner he’d be able to make sense of his personal life and figure out if this thing with Erin was just a fling or something much longer lasting.
* * *
MAC SPENT THE REST of the day meeting with county commissioners and public utility executives, before picking up Heather at her Montessori school. She chatted nonstop about her day as he drove her back to the ranch. “So I guess you like it here,” he murmured as they reached the ranch house.
“Daddy, I love it so much I don’t ever want to leave!” Heather waved exuberantly at Sammy and Stevie, who were already home. Grinning, she handed Mac her backpack and raced over to shoot hoops with the boys.
Relieved that his daughter had adjusted to life in Texas so readily, Mac went on inside. Bridget and Bess were in the kitchen, one making a green salad, the other preparing pasta. Nicholas was setting the table. Erin, who usually manned the stove, was nowhere in sight.
“Hey, Mac,” Bess said. “Dinner in twenty.”
“Sounds good. Is there anything I can do?”
Bridget grinned. “Well, yeah. The dishes!”
“No problem.” Stunned at how lonely it felt to him without their sister around, Mac asked casually, “Is Erin in her studio?”
Nicholas and the twins exchanged looks. “She’s not going to be here tonight.”
Erin hadn’t mentioned that to him. Then again, it wasn’t as if they had to check in with each other or ask permission. Mac nodded and went to wash up.
The meal was delicious. Yet something seemed off. Sammy and Stevie were more rambunctious than usual, cracking jokes and making Heather giggle. Bess, Bridget and Nicholas seemed distracted, aloof, despite their polite demeanor.
Once dinner was over, the kids were sent upstairs to do their homework. It seemed unusually quiet as Mac helped the Monroes clear the table and store the extra food in the fridge.
Dishrag in hand, Nicholas stared out the kitchen window. “It’s going to be dark soon.” He frowned. “Maybe one of us should go and check on Erin.”
Bess and Bridget looked pained.
“I never know what to say,” Bess said.
Her twin nodded. “I always feel like I make it worse.”
“Make what worse?” Mac asked.
“The grieving,” Bess explained.
* * *
ERIN WAS SITTING cross-legged in the grass. The overhead lights had switched on and the sun had gone down half an hour ago, leaving the cemetery cloaked in the scent of flowers and freshly mowed grass. She knew she should go home. She wanted to. But something kept her sitting right where she was. Thinking. Feeling. Wishing her life had turned out differently.
She was jolted from her thoughts when a vehicle came through the heavy wrought-iron gates and glided along the lane to a spot twenty yards away.
The door opened...and Mac got out.
He looked as solemn as the occasion demanded.
The tears she’d been fruitlessly trying to summon up and shed abruptly broke free. Moisture flowed from her eyes, blinding her.
He walked to her side. Knelt down. Took both her gloved hands in his.
The tears rained down all the harder.
He settled beside her and gathered her into his arms. A sob broke out, then another, and another.
Erin cried in a way she had never been able to cry, soaking his shirt and letting go of so much. Until finally the torrent ended. And the embarrassment returned.
“I’m s-s-sorry,” she whispered.
Mac stroked her hair. “Your little girl would want you to cry, Erin. She’d want you to get it all out.”
More tears welled up. “I can’t.”
“You are.”
She supposed she was.
Erin drew back, saw that his face was wet, too.
She traced his tears with her fingertips, marveling that someone so big and strong and manly could also be gentle and sensitive. Kind. “How did you know I was here?”
He stroked a hand over her hair, cuddling her close. “Your siblings told me.”
She leaned against his chest, listening to the strong beat of his heart. Briefly closing her eyes, she choked out, “Did they also tell you I’d be a mess?”
Mac kissed the top of her head, wrapped both arms around her and held on tight. “They said the second anniversary of Angelica’s passing is coming up. You wanted to get the grave site ready, so it would be nice when you brought Sammy and Stevie over to see it.”
“Not that it doesn’t always look nice.” Erin let out a shaky breath. “It does. But usually, there are silk flowers instead of pots of real ones. I tried keeping flowers going constantly the first year, because Angelica loved
to plant flowers with me every spring. But the weather refused to cooperate...so I turned to silk ones during the times I knew it would be too hot or too cold, and containers of real ones the rest of the time.”
He turned her face up to his, wiping away the tears that remained. “It looks nice.”
Erin nodded, savoring his nearness and the comfort he offered. She dropped her head again. “I got them at Suzy Carrigan’s greenhouse.”
Silence fell between them. Lingered. Erin knew she should pull away, but stayed right where she was because it felt so right, sitting here, cuddled against him, with her head resting on his shoulder and his face pressed against her cheek.
Eventually, the need to keep talking—keep letting her feelings pour out—broke through. “I thought the first year would be the toughest.”
Mac held her closer. “But it’s not,” he agreed. “The second one is worse, even though more time has elapsed, because the magical thinking has stopped.”
Erin nodded miserably. “The finality of the death sinks in.”
He stroked a hand down her spine. “The thought that you’ll one day be together again in heaven seems like such small comfort.”
She sighed. “When you want to be with your loved one so much right now.” What she wouldn’t give to be able to hold Angelica in her arms once more. She wondered if Mac felt the same way about his late wife.
“Your boys seem to be coping pretty well.”
Erin nodded again. “It’s been such a good distraction, having you and Heather here. It fills the void of losing their sister, and the divorce. Not that you’re in any way acting like a husband.”
Mac grinned.
“But they miss having a dad around, and you’re a dad—and a good one—so it helps alleviate the pain.”
Mac studied her. “Was G.W. a good dad? When he was around?”
She straightened away from him. “The kids love him. But deep down, they’re angry with him, too. They know he should have been around a lot more when Angelica was sick, instead of hiding in his work.” She released a quivering breath. “The chance to spend time with our daughter, to see her through those final, heart-wrenching days, was so precious. And so limited. He missed most of those last months with her, and I think he feels terrible guilt about it—and that, more than anything, is why he asked me for a divorce.”
The Texas Rancher's Family Page 9