Cowboy After Dark

by Vicki Lewis Thompson

  He took a deep breath of the pine-scented air. “I’ll leave it up to you, then, but hearing about the issues will help me understand why you feel so strongly about being totally on your own. Then we can permanently drop the subject if you want to.”

  “We can?”

  “Yep.”

  “So we’ll never mention this again and go on with our original plan for the week?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “And this will be just between you and me.”

  “That goes without saying.”

  “All right, then. I guess that’s only fair.” She slipped her hand from his and began to pace in front of him on the dirt road “We were best friends, buddies, both of us in the creative writing program. We shared books, our fledgling attempts at novels, meals and eventually a bed.”

  He did his best to block that last image.

  “It was cheaper to live together, so we did. We talked about marriage, but both sets of parents expected a big deal, and we didn’t want to take the time to plan it. After graduation, I got a job in the college admissions office and wrote in the evenings. Tom waited tables at night and wrote during the day. We each had a computer, but if one went on the blink, we shared the other one.”

  “Doesn’t sound like you spent much time together, though.” He was convinced the story ended with Tom cheating on her when she was at work.

  “Oh, we found time to be together.” Her pacing became more animated. “We spent hours talking about our writing projects. I finally finished a book I’d started writing my sophomore year. It was the first in a series, and I’d plotted out three more. He was after me to either submit or self-publish, but I didn’t feel the manuscript was ready. He’d read it and said it was good. He got very impatient with me.”

  Liam’s pulse rate shot up. Here it came. She’d lied about the physical abuse. “Is that when he hit you?”

  “No.” She turned toward him, and her face was expressionless except for her eyes. The tortured agony in those gray depths was painful to witness. “That’s when he took my manuscript and self-published it as his.”

  He gasped. “And you didn’t sue his ass?”

  “I had no case. My word against his. He took all of it and erased everything on my computer that was in any way related to it—my notes for the rest of the series, my character charts, everything. All gone.” She swallowed. “All gone.”

  “What about your friends? Didn’t you tell them about this project? Couldn’t they have testified that you’d written it?”

  “That’s the irony.” Her mouth twisted in a bitter smile. “He was the only person I trusted with the details. He was paranoid about people stealing his ideas, and he made me paranoid, too. Friends knew I was writing something, but I wouldn’t talk about it. Only to him.”

  “That’s evil.” His body vibrated with anger. “What’s his last name?”

  “I’m not going to tell you.”

  “He shouldn’t be able to get away with this, damn it!”

  “Maybe not, but he did. So now you know, and we can permanently drop the subject like you promised.”

  Fists clenched in frustration, he gazed at her.

  “You did promise,” she said quietly. “Ready to go back now?”

  “No, I’m ready to break the guy’s face.”

  A gleam of approval flashed in her eyes. “I used to want that, too, but I’m over it. What’s done is done, and I can’t change what happened, so the best thing to do is forget about it and move on.”

  “Except that you haven’t.”

  “Yes, I have. This is the most thought I’ve given Tom in months. I have a new life in a new town. I’ve moved on.”

  “But you aren’t writing anymore, and you only want a man around for a temporary affair. Is that what you call being over it?”

  She lifted her chin. “That’s how I’ve chosen to handle the situation. And now can we permanently drop the subject?”

  “Yes.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Sorry. I just didn’t expect it would be something that horrific.”

  “In the grand scheme of things, it’s not. It’s just a book.”

  Just a book. The dismissive way she said it sent chills down his spine. He wanted to argue the point, but he’d promised to drop the subject. He needed to stop making promises he later regretted.

  He’d expected to find out this Tom slimeball had betrayed her with another woman. It was a crummy thing to do, but common enough, unfortunately. And not so difficult to get past, given time to realize you were better off without such a person.

  But this. Being Grady’s brother had taught him so much about the creative process. Last year someone had made a crude copy of one of Grady’s sculptures and had put it up online as a Grady Magee original. Grady had gone ballistic. He had taken legal action, and the perpetrator wouldn’t be trying that again.

  What Hope had suffered was far worse. She’d lost something she’d spent years working on, and it hadn’t simply disappeared because of a computer glitch or a natural disaster. Instead, the one person she’d trusted with her precious work had stolen it and taken credit for her creation. It was mental rape.

  He wanted to find the asshole and make him sorry he’d ever been born, but he couldn’t do that because he didn’t even have a name. Barring that, he wanted to tell other people so they could share his outrage. Grady would be beside himself. But Grady wouldn’t hear about it, because Liam had promised not to tell.

  Hope touched his arm. “Sorry you asked?”

  “No.” He blew out a breath. “I needed to know.”

  “You look really upset.”

  “I’ll be okay.” He wasn’t convinced that she would be, though, and that bothered him a lot. He’d never had someone he completely trusted betray him.

  Yeah, there’d been a few little incidents. In high school he’d found the girl he was dating kissing another guy. Another supposed friend had stolen his ID and used it to buy beer, but that was the extent of his experience with betrayal. Small potatoes compared to what Hope had endured. He could imagine how Tom’s actions would affect every close relationship she had from that moment on.

  “We should go back.” The upbeat lilt in her voice sounded forced. “The others must think we’ve gotten lost.”

  She was right, but he didn’t want to go just yet. “I don’t know how you feel about this, but I’d like to kiss you before we leave. It might not make you feel any better, but it sure would cheer me up.”

  She smiled. “I’d never turn down a kiss from you.”

  Not this week, anyway. He didn’t say it, though. Instead he pushed his hat to the back of his head and drew her into his arms. She came willingly, but there was a reserve about her now, a stiffness that hadn’t been there before.

  When he looked into her eyes, he saw a hesitancy that tore at his heart. “Are you sorry you told me?”

  “Yes.”

  “Why?”

  “Because you must think I was stupid.”

  “No! I don’t—”

  “But I was stupid! What idiot would allow that kind of thing to happen?”

  “Not an idiot. A loving, trusting—”

  “Fool. There were signs that he was capable of this and I ignored them. He stole wineglasses from the restaurant where he worked. He figured out a way to cheat on a semester final and bragged about it to me. There were other things like that, and he always justified his actions. The restaurant owner was a cheapskate, and the professor’s grading system was unfair. I should have seen this coming.”

  “Hope, it wasn’t your fault. He took terrible advantage of you.”

  “Because I let him.” The despair in her voice was the saddest sound he’d ever heard.

  “It’s not your fault.” Leaning down, he placed soft
kisses on her forehead, her cheeks, her nose and her chin. “Not your fault,” he murmured over and over between kisses.

  Finally she groaned and cupped his face in both hands, holding him still. “Kiss me for real, cowboy.”

  “Love to.” And he settled his mouth firmly over hers. The moment he did, she relaxed, wound her arms around his neck and nestled against him. Ah. This was more like the woman he’d made love to in the barn.

  Thank God they’d established that intimate connection. She might still believe their attraction was based on sex, but he knew it was so much more. Sharing the pleasure they’d found had the power to heal if she’d let it. Their private times together could be a place of refuge as they navigated whatever rough waters this week might bring.

  She aroused him with breathtaking ease. Seconds into their kiss, he was hard and wishing they could enjoy some of that private, healing time right now. Lifting his head, he gazed into her flushed face. “I want to drag you into the woods and have my way with you.”

  “I know.” All her hesitation was gone, and her eyes sparkled with excitement.

  “And you like knowing that, don’t you?”

  “Yes. It makes me feel powerful.”

  “Good, because you are.” He’d be happy to let her demonstrate her power often in the next few days. Talk about win-win.

  “We can’t really go off into the woods now, though.”

  “Not this time. But let’s keep it in mind for the future.”

  “Believe me, I will. Okay, one more kiss for the road.” She traced his lower lip. “You still haven’t told me how you got that scar.”

  “A woman bit me.” Capturing her mouth again, he kissed her with passion, but also with the tenderness she deserved from any man privileged to hold her. She’d granted him that privilege for the next week. He’d thought that would give him plenty of time to break through the walls she’d built. Maybe not.

  11

  HOPE DIDN’T HAVE another moment alone with Liam for the rest of the day, and she decided that might be for the best. Her emotions were all over the place and she needed time to regroup. She sincerely wished the subject of Tom hadn’t been raised, but she also realized Liam deserved to know why she’d demanded a deadline for their relationship.

  She’d heard confession was good for the soul, but hers felt battered and bruised after bringing that awful episode out of the mental closet where she’d stashed it. He’d said she wasn’t over it, and she hated discovering he was right. Life had been so much easier during months of self-induced amnesia.

  While talking about Tom with Liam, she’d struggled to stay in control of her negative emotions. His hot kisses had helped enormously, but she couldn’t indulge in that distraction when there was work to be done. Fortunately the bustle of preparations for the rehearsal and the rehearsal dinner provided protection. She cooked, cleaned and helped set up without anyone noticing that she wasn’t particularly chatty.

  All the focus was on the wedding, thank goodness. The debate over arbor/no arbor had continued through lunch until Herb had finally mentioned that besides potentially blowing over, the problematic structure would obscure the view of the cabin.

  Finn had to leave to pick up Chelsea at the airport, and everyone else, including Hope, pitched in to decorate the front of the cabin. They made a wildflower wreath for the door and covered the windowsills with greenery and wild berries. Damon climbed up on the roof and attached more greenery along the roofline. The cabin took on the look of a fairy dwelling.

  By the time they declared it complete, Finn had returned with Chelsea. She was a bundle of energy with turquoise streaks in her blond hair. As everyone crowded around for hugs, Phil made sure to introduce Hope.

  You’ll like her, Phil had said earlier, and Hope could see why. A year ago Chelsea would have been exactly the kind of person Hope gravitated to. Not anymore. Being friendly but maintaining a low profile was the name of the game. She wasn’t about to get chummy with that fascinating woman and risk saying something unintentionally revealing. Chelsea was a member of the creative tribe Hope had resigned from.

  If Hope had still been writing, Chelsea would have made an interesting and stimulating friend, much as Phil, Debbie and Joan had been. She’d kept seeing all three during her college years until Tom’s paranoia had turned girls’ nights out into exhausting efforts not to let a writing secret slip. Later she’d been too embarrassed to contact them and admit what had happened. What she’d allowed to happen.

  The habit of keeping secrets was hard to break, though. She was still doing it with everyone except for Liam. He glanced her way whenever they happened to be in the same area helping with preparations. Each time, he looked a little worried, but then his expression would shift and he’d give her a warm smile.

  Their supposedly carefree fling wasn’t so carefree now, was it? The idea had seemed doable at first. Other couples managed it, so why couldn’t they? Belatedly she’d figured out that a no-strings affair might sound good in theory. In practice it wasn’t all that easy to pull off with living, breathing people who had feelings.

  And oh, boy, did she have feelings. Thanks to Liam, she realized how much she’d been muting them. No, she couldn’t blame it all on him, either. The wedding was part of the problem. She’d been having some trouble managing her feelings during the bachelorette party, which was why she’d escaped to the porch.

  Her muddled state of mind that afternoon could explain why she’d overreacted to his truck speeding up Phil’s driveway. The combination of a wedding and Liam had jerked her out of a soft-focus, pastel view of life into a world of intense color and excitement.

  She couldn’t say she was sorry. She loved the sex. But she wasn’t so crazy about the other emotions coming at her. Putting a time limit on this affair had been smart.

  Eventually the preparations wrapped up as the designated hour for the rehearsal approached. Showers were taken and clothes were changed. Hope had brought an off-the-shoulder blouse and a flowing skirt for this special night. Knowing this was likely what she’d be wearing when she met Liam in their cabin hideaway, she dressed with extra care. She would have loved to put on the high-heeled sandals that matched the outfit, but flats made more sense for tromping through soft dirt and grass.

  She’d save the sexy shoes for next week when she was staying at Damon and Phil’s cabin. Maybe once the wedding was over and she wasn’t viewing a happily-ever-after in the making, she might be able to recapture the spirit of a fantasy fling. Per Liam’s promise, they wouldn’t be discussing Tom again.

  While she regretted having told Liam everything, because it had changed the dynamic, she also felt closer to him than to anyone else in the wedding party. They shared a secret. She recognized now that shared secrets could be dangerous, but nothing about Liam felt that way. Rosie had echoed her feelings the night before when she’d said, I wasn’t worried. You were with Liam.

  Hope walked down to the meadow with Rosie, Herb and the minister from Sheridan who had driven out for the rehearsal. Hope was charmed to discover that the minister Phil and Damon had chosen with some help from Rosie was a woman. To the casual observer, Rosie might appear to be a traditional wife and mother, but she was obviously ready to challenge stereotypes at every opportunity.

  Once in the meadow, Hope left Rosie and Herb to do their thing, and she took a chair under the tent in the second row on the bride’s side. The tent was big enough for only two small sections of folding chairs. Artificial turf had been laid down as an aisle runner, and a larger piece had been placed in front of the cabin, where the ceremony would be held.

  The summer day had stayed pleasantly cool, and she could smell wood smoke from the nearby fire pit, where the rehearsal barbecue would take place. Liam and Grady had started the fire an hour ago and had covered it with a large wire screen to contain any flying sparks as the logs were
reduced to embers perfect for grilling.

  Everyone with a role in the wedding was in attendance except Finn. Damon had chosen Cade, Finn and Herb as co–best men. Phil had asked Rosie, Edie and Lexi to share the “of honor” category. Edie and Rosie were matrons of honor and Lexi was maid of honor. Phil’s father, Karl, a balding guy who had a perpetual grin on his face, would walk her down the aisle. He’d arrived from Cheyenne two hours ago.

  Hope kept watching the cabin next to the decorated one. That was where Liam and Grady were staying, but neither of them had come out yet. Working with the fire must have made them late getting cleaned up. She’d deliberately chosen a seat with a vacant chair on either side so when they did arrive, Liam could sit next to her.

  Then she was distracted by Cade making a megaphone of his hands. “Hey, O’Roarke!” he called. “You’re holding up the show!”

  She turned around in her chair and looked across to the cabin where Finn and Chelsea were staying. It was the first one ever built and the one Finn, Damon and Cade had shared when they’d lived at the ranch. Chelsea and Finn stood on the cement stoop, having a discussion.

  Chelsea’s dress was stunning and sexy—midthigh length and made of a shimmering material that contained every color in the rainbow, including a turquoise shade to match her hair. But her shoes were the real attention grabber—turquoise stilettos. Hope wondered how Chelsea would navigate the meadow.

  She didn’t have to. Suddenly Finn scooped her up in his arms. Amid whoops and hollers from Cade and Damon, he carried her across the grassy area and set her on the artificial turf. She gave him a quick kiss before walking carefully down the aisle toward Hope.

  “I could’ve made it,” she said as she sat down. “I told him that, but he was determined to show off his manly muscles.”

  Hope laughed. “It was a fun show. Now I wish I hadn’t been so chicken about wearing my heels. You look fabulous.”

  “You, too! With that outfit, you should wear a flower in your hair. It’s a very romantic look.”