She couldn't go back to art.
Matt didn't seem to get that.
"Art teacher?" he asked, cocking one hand on his hip.
"I don't like kids."
He leveled a look at her. "You and Scarlett are thick as thieves."
She shrugged. "She doesn't count."
He rolled his eyes but didn't push it.
She and Katie had had another fight last night about what they'd say to the attorney when they met with him in a few days. Kelsey wanted everything left to Katie, both the house and the café.
Katie'd suggested that if Kelsey wanted to stay in Taylor Hills, they could share the house, take care of the repairs themselves. Staying shouldn’t have even been on Kelsey's radar. But being with Matt was making her wonder what if…? And that had scared her. Scared her good, so she’d lashed out at her sister, laughing off the idea in a cruel way that Katie hadn’t deserved.
She didn't particularly want to coach, but she couldn't stay here. Matt still hadn't realized the truth of their breakup, and she wouldn't be able to face him when he knew.
"What're you thinking about so hard?" He stepped close and tucked some strands of hair behind her ear.
"Nothing."
The way he was looking at her, she could tell he didn't believe her.
"We've been so busy,” he said, “and you've been so serious..."
She didn't see it coming.
He tickled her side, just beneath her ribs. She leveled a glare on him. "Don't even think about it, mister."
But judging by the dancing light in his eyes, he was doing more than that.
She backed away, toward the front hall.
But she didn't make it that far. He chased her, and she shrieked, darting just out of his reach.
He followed her through the hall and into the living room. She put the sofa between them.
"You call yourself fast?"
"I am fast!" But maybe she hadn’t put her everything into it, because he caught her just as she rounded the plush chair. He grabbed her around the waist and tickled her sensitive side, just beneath her ribs.
She shrieked with laughter.
"Hey!" They both froze at the voice from the door. "What's going on here?" Scarlett darted into the room. "Is it a tickle war?"
The girl was smart enough to go for her uncle's knees, a prime ticklish spot.
"Hey!" Matt tried to dance away, but his feet tangled with Kelsey's, and they both went down in a heap on the couch.
"Um, no hanky-panky in front of my daughter," Carrie said from the doorway, having witnessed all of it.
Kelsey laughed from deep in her belly, and couldn't stop.
Matt watched her, grinning.
"C'mon, kid. You're not mature enough to be watching this." Carrie touched Scarlett's shoulder and motioned her daughter toward the kitchen.
"What's mature?" Scarlett asked, trailing after her mother.
"Not your uncle."
That set Kelsey off in more peals of laughter.
Finally, spent and with an aching stomach, she propped her elbow on Matt's stomach and plopped her chin in her hand.
He grimaced and stuffed a pillow beneath her elbow instead.
"I love your laugh," he said quietly, a smile still playing around the corners of his mouth.
And that statement went right over the invisible line into dangerous territory.
Carrie reluctantly followed Scarlett down to the barn. She was glad to see her brother laughing, but she hoped he knew what he was doing with Kelsey.
She didn't know what had possessed her to come out here today, except she'd had her fill of Scarlett's whining to come see the two kittens.
The familiar place elicited all the old feelings. She didn't belong here. Not really.
She could only hope Trey was out the fields today, not hanging around the barn.
No luck. There he was, brushing down a horse it looked like he'd just unsaddled. He was growing his beard back, though it was neatly trimmed. His blond hair was rumpled and damp from his hat. He needed a cut, but she wasn't offering. Not now.
"Afternoon, ladies." He doffed his hat like he was in a western movie or something.
Scarlett shrieked an excited hello while Carrie's stomach did a slow flip. Why couldn't he have gotten ugly in the months since their breakup? Or developed an unattractive lisp. Or grown a mole on the end of his nose. Anything that might've mitigated her attraction.
He knelt for a hug from Scarlett. He'd always been like that, willing to put aside his own work or needs for her daughter.
"When are you coming back to our house for dinner?" Scarlett asked. "I miss you."
He didn't dismiss the girl or look to Carrie—blame her—for an explanation for a difficult situation.
Carrie stepped forward, alarmed by the hurt in Scarlett's face, but he was already talking.
He spoke to Scarlett as if she were a grown up and could understand. "I can't come to dinner as much anymore." He didn't offer lies or blame Carrie for how their relationship had ended. Just a simple statement. "But I tell you what. When your mom is ready for you to take Tom and Jerry home, I'll bring a bucket of fried chicken with me."
"Yeah, yeah, yeah!"
Scarlett threw her arms around his neck again, and this time, Carrie saw naked emotion on his face. He honestly cared about Scarlett. And she about him.
This was all Carrie's fault. She'd let him in, hoping for something that wasn't for her. And now Scarlett was hurting. Trey was hurting.
And she was...
She refused to be hurting.
"The kitties are in the stall next to Peppermint," he told Scarlett, who promptly ran off to see her babies.
"What was that?" she asked.
He straightened and rubbed the back of his neck, knocking his hat forward slightly on his forehead. "Sorry about that. If you tell me when you'll be out, I'll leave the kittens—"
"I don't remember agreeing to take any kittens."
Now his expression tightened. "You didn't." It wasn't a question. He glanced off to the side.
"Did Scarlett say so?"
He looked back at her and nodded, mouth slipping into a half smile. "That girl. She knows what she wants."
Carrie found herself responding with a nod and smile but then stifled it when she realized what she was doing.
His smile faded too. "I'll talk to her—"
"No."
He waited for her to finish, since she'd interrupted him.
But she shrugged helplessly. "If she wants a kitten so badly, maybe we could take one."
He shook his head. His Stetson shaded his eyes from her, but she caught the lines around his mouth. "Those two are particularly attached to each other. It'd be a shame to split them up."
He let the statement hang there. Like it had a deeper meaning, one she didn't want to hear.
"Then I'll talk to her. She's my daughter."
He stared at her for a long moment and then nodded slowly. One major point for him—he'd never interfered with her mothering Scarlett.
She had to stop remembering all the things she liked about him.
"I'm sorry we interrupted your workday." She motioned inanely to the horse. "We shouldn't have come out h—"
"Of course you should've." Trey paused, an inscrutable expression crossing his face. "The Triple H is your home. You're one-third owner, and you've got the right to be here anytime you want."
She had to look away from the intensity of his gaze. She shook her head and kept her gaze focused on the sunlight outside the barn doors. The Triple H hadn't been home in a long time. Not since everything had gone down with Uncle Pat.
"Mo-om, c'mere!"
Thankful for the interruption, Carrie turned to join her daughter.
She felt the weight of Trey's gaze follow her. She was to blame for the uncomfortable whirl in her stomach today. She hadn't adhered to her unspoken rule about avoiding him.
She was so stupid.
Chapter 8
<
br /> "This wasn't exactly what I was picturing when you said 'art teacher,'" Kelsey said.
Matt grinned at her. "I couldn't say no to Mrs. Crane when she wrangled me in to subbing for this class, now could I?"
"No one says no to Mrs. C."
The former sixth grade math teacher was a force to be reckoned with.
"Besides, this is a good look on you," Matt said.
Kelsey made a face at him.
A week after their lunch date, he'd wrangled her into helping at the kids’ arts and crafts booth for the local harvest festival, an annual event that brought in vendors, food trucks, and hundreds of tourists over one weekend in October.
He'd given himself the job handing out craft popsicle sticks, while she had an apron over her T-shirt and jeans and was manning the finger-paint table. She had a streak of blue paint in her hair. Adorable. He wasn't making any excuses. He was hiding in the back of their booth, plain and simple, because folks he didn't recognize kept greeting him. His headaches had eased, but he still hadn't gained any more of his memories.
No matter what she said, Kelsey was good with the kids. She'd helped a little girl turn a blob of red paint into a realistic barn with a horse beside it. She'd raced a little boy into making a rainbow for his mom.
Every kid who interacted with her left with a smile.
Something had changed between them over the past week. He'd seen the flare of panic cross her face when he'd said he'd loved her laugh. Maybe it'd been the wrong thing to say, but it had been what he was feeling.
After a phone call with his brother, he'd finally made the decision to do both the fence and the barn repairs for the Triple H and to wait on purchasing more cattle. He and the hands had spent most of the week pushing the cattle to other fields and getting the supplies in place for the fence repair.
Now, it was closing in on twilight, and the last straggler kid waved goodbye and left with his grandma. The booth would be open again tomorrow, so their cleanup was mostly wiping down tables and putting lids on paint and making sure the sticks were all put up in their container.
He moved closer to Kelsey as she stacked up the paper plates they'd used as palettes. He smeared his hands in blue paint and then hugged her from behind, transferring the paint to the middle of her shirt. She was so busy cleaning up that she didn’t notice.
He leaned his chin on her shoulder. "Come see the fireworks with me?" The town would put on a small show, and the tailgate of his pickup would be the perfect place to watch from.
"Did you just—?" She broke from his hold, and he couldn't help the laugh that escaped at the sight of the blue handprints on her white shirt. "I can't believe you did that."
She swiped her hand toward him.
He dodged, but she was quick, and he looked down to a streak of red paint across the front of his T-shirt.
He held his hands—blue palms and everything—in front of him. "Okay, truce."
She eyed him doubtfully as she gathered up the last couple of paper plates, then headed to the metal trash barrel at the corner of their booth.
He followed, but not too close. "You did well today."
She glanced his way. "You too. Where'd you learn to corral kids like that? I bet you commanded a fleet of men overseas..."
Her voice trailed off as their eyes met, and they both realized he didn't know whether her teasing statement was true or not.
"A hard day's work deserves a reward, doesn't it?" He sidled closer as she dumped the plates.
Her sideways glance was still wary. "Like what?"
"One little kiss."
She obliged him by turning up her face. He framed her cheeks with both hands, grinning into the kiss. She must've forgotten about the paint on his hands.
But before he could pull back and gloat, she reached up and ran both hands down his face. He could feel the goopy red paint on his cheeks.
He blinked through it, red on the tips of his eyelashes. And grinned.
They washed up, and twenty minutes later, it was dark, and they'd settled on the tailgate of his pickup. A slight breeze had kicked up, and she shivered in her three-quarter-length sweater and jeans.
"I brought a quilt." He jumped off the tailgate and fetched it from the cab.
Bringing the single quilt had been a strategy, one that meant she had to snuggle close to his side. He wrapped his arm and the quilt around her shoulders and cherished it when she leaned her head against him.
Having her this close, surrounded in darkness, made him feel like they were the only two people in the whole world, even though the field-turned-parking lot where they’d parked was full of cars and trucks and folks.
The first firework went off over their heads with a pop. Red sparks glittered in the starry sky.
He gripped the tailgate next to his thigh as his muscles reacted to the boom and explosions—a muscle memory that he had no conscious memory to match up to.
She sighed sweetly, and he worked to relax his tense muscles.
This whole time, she'd been reluctant to talk about their shared past or her future plans, but she wasn't shy about seeking his affection. Holding hands, embracing, kissing. She seemed to gravitate toward him on the physical side, even if she couldn't open up to him emotionally.
It gave him hope.
And he wanted this moment to last forever. "You thought any more about your new career path?"
She tensed, just slightly, but he felt it. "Not really. I've been busy helping Katie with some of the repairs at the café."
Funny. He'd been thinking about it nonstop.
"What about you?" she asked softly. He doubted their conversation would carry to even the closest pickup, not with the loud booms going off overhead.
Two blue-and-white fireworks went off together, and some folks nearby cheered.
"What do you mean?"
Her head tilted slightly. Maybe she wanted was to see the sky better, or maybe she was angling for a better look at his face. "You told Carrie your military career was over. What are you going to do next?"
"The Triple H and I are making peace with each other." Although he still didn't remember the cowboys, they'd brought him into the fold. The blanks in his brain bothered him, more and more every day. Like today, when folks he didn't recognize kept saying hi. When he spoke to Carrie and didn't know what she was talking about from some distant conversation. The breakup with Kelsey. He’d hoped for more of his memory back by now, and the lack of progress frustrated him. He'd had some consultations with a doctor in Dallas, and the man said to keep waiting.
He wanted to be done with the waiting.
He rolled his shoulders. "When I was eighteen, I didn't want anything to do with running the place, but now, it's starting to feel like home."
She didn't relax against him.
He didn't know whether his was the right or wrong answer. If she was determined to leave, the fact that he might be staying could be a strike against him.
"My apartment lease is up at the end of the month.”
Her words gave him a moment of shiny hope. Which she instantly doused.
“I’ll need to be there to sign a new agreement. And the coaching job starts a few days after that."
The world seemed to still. While he knew she'd be leaving eventually—at least she said so—this was a firm deadline. Less than a month, and she could be gone.
It was late when Matt dropped Kelsey off at Katie's place. She changed into her ratty pajama bottoms and stared at herself in the spotted bathroom mirror.
She used a washrag to scrub the blue paint from her cheeks, residue from the handprints that he'd pressed there earlier when they'd been playing around.
Even now, Kelsey couldn't stop a goofy smile because of it.
Her lips looked bee-stung. She'd sat with Matt for a long time in the cab of his truck in the driveway. Kissing.
His kisses had held almost a sense of desperation. It was as if he wanted to convince her through his touch that she should stay. Maybe she
shouldn't have told him about her apartment lease, but it was what it was. She'd have to go back at the end of the month, no matter what. If she decided to leave Houston, she'd have to pack up her things. If she decided to stay, there would be papers to sign. And she needed to make a decision about the coaching job.
Matt's touch always had the power to move her. Maybe that was why she was considering what her life could be like if she stayed in Taylor Hills.
A soft knock on the bathroom door startled her.
"You about done in there?" Katie asked from the other side.
"Yeah." They'd always fought for bathroom time as teens. She sort of missed that when she was alone in her apartment in Houston.
She ducked out and went to her bedroom, though she only sat on the end of the bed, hugging her pillow. It was funny. They'd spent so much time cleaning the downstairs, but she hadn't touched a thing up here. There were two track trophies from middle school—plastic painted gold—resting on the windowsill. She'd grumbled about Matt taking her childish artwork home for himself, but her favorite painting, a landscape she'd painted in high school, still hung above her bed.
The sentimental touches brought back memories, both painful and joyful.
What was she going to do?
A few minutes later, Katie leaned her shoulder on the bedroom doorjamb. She was also in ratty pajamas and an even rattier bathrobe.
"You have fun necking with Matt out in the drive?"
Kelsey's face flushed. She buried her face in the pillow, speaking through the stuffing. "We weren't necking."
"Sure looked like something was going on. Are you sure you know what you're doing with Matt? When he finds out how you walked out on him..."
Kelsey buried her face in the pillow again. "I know."
He was going to hate her.
"You're going to get your heart broken," Katie said.
Kelsey shook her head, face still hidden in the pillow. Not possible. She'd been careful to guard her heart.
Except how could she guard against a man who was so charming, so funny, so confident?
A man who had so much confidence in her. Who thought she hung the moon and could hang a second one if she wanted.
Kissing Kelsey: a Cowboy Fairytales spin-off (Triple H Brides Book 1) Page 6