From This Moment On

by Debbi Rawlins

  Shit.

  He froze in sheer panic, though he obviously wasn’t panicked enough. She was too short for her ass to be a strategic hit to his fly, but her lower back was doing a fine job. He had an erection the size of a national monument.

  “Hey, you know...” He moved so that they weren’t touching, caught her shoulders when she lost her footing. “A stool is a good idea.” He couldn’t let her turn around and see him like this, let her think his motives for bringing her out here were anything but aboveboard. “I’ll get one and you can keep it in your truck for next time.”

  Dammit all to hell. He rushed past her, afraid there wasn’t enough cold water in the whole state of Montana to cool him down.

  * * *

  “TRACE.” NIKKI UNDERSTOOD the problem. What she didn’t know was whether she should admit it or try to act as if she hadn’t noticed. If she came clean, she risked the chance that this innocent and very sweet overture on Trace’s part would turn into something that couldn’t be undone. Because she was turned on, too. How could she not be?

  She knew what was under that brown T-shirt. And he had strong muscled arms that made her feel protected and safe—which was juvenile, because she knew better, from personal experience. A man could use his good looks and charm to make a woman believe promises he had no intention of honoring.

  To be fair to Trace, he was slowly proving that maybe she’d been too quick to judge him. He had sides to him she hadn’t expected. In his own subtle way, Matt had tried to tell her there was more to Trace. But as much as she had grown to love her brother, when it came to men, she trusted her own instincts over anyone else’s. Right now, though, she was a little shaky in that department.

  “Trace.”

  “Yep.” He was keeping his back to her and stroking Gypsy’s neck.

  Nikki had no desire to get in the mare’s space or to embarrass him, so she stayed back a few feet. “Thank you for taking time away from your work to do this for me. Gypsy, I want to thank you, too.”

  He smiled at her over his shoulder, then frowned and leaned into the mare, his ear close to her muzzle. “What’s that?” He drew back, looking annoyed and glaring at poor Gypsy. “I’ve warned you about your manners.”

  Nikki laughed. “Okay... What did she say?”

  “‘Talk is cheap. Where’s my damn apple.’”

  “You’re nuts.”

  “Yeah, Gypsy said that, too.” He was still smiling when he moved to unfasten the saddlebag.

  She knew he couldn’t still be hard or he’d be turned away, but she had to look. Not quite normal yet, though not nearly as impressive as five minutes ago. She almost sighed. Such a waste.

  Gypsy had to know what was coming. Stretching her neck, she turned to watch him pull out her treat.

  “I’m not sure why, but I’m surprised you feed her apples.”

  “I don’t usually.” He shrugged. “Sometimes I let a guest give her one. I thought you might like to.”

  “Um, I—I—” She ended in a soft whimper.

  “Not now. I’d hoped we’d get a little further.” He gave the glossy red apple to Gypsy, who chomped down on it. Wow, she had big teeth. “Maybe next time,” he said. “You still game to try again?”

  “Tomorrow?”

  He shook his head. “Maybe the day after. I’ve got something going on in the morning and can’t predict when I’ll be done.”

  She’d bet it had something to do with the guests, which shouldn’t matter to her. And it didn’t...not at all...

  Now that she thought about it, he hadn’t flirted with her once. Not like he did at the bar. The hard-on didn’t count. It was a natural physical reaction and he’d run from it.

  Huh.

  “You know I don’t have to leave yet,” she said. “Unless you do.”

  “No, I planned on us spending a couple hours out here. What time do you have to be at Sadie’s?”

  “Around five.”

  “You going straight there?”

  She nodded. “I’m not hot and sweaty so I don’t need to go home first.”

  He gazed up at the passing cloud cover, adjusting his hat to protect his eyes. “It feels nice in the shade.”

  “Yes, it does.”

  Silence stretched, and she didn’t understand why it suddenly seemed awkward between them. They’d moved past the embarrassing hard-on thing easily. Was he disappointed that she hadn’t made much progress with Gypsy? She really had, she thought, staring at the mare who seemed to be looking for another snack. Standing here with no wall separating her and the horse was progress. And she hadn’t had a single moment of pure dread, imagining evil lurking behind Gypsy’s soft chocolate-brown eyes. Maybe she should explain that to him.

  “I meant to—”

  “This is the—”

  They looked at each other, not smiling, just staring. It figured they’d both speak at once. And now nothing.

  “I’ll go first,” Trace said. “I want to get it off my chest. If I overstepped earlier, I’m sorry.”

  “You didn’t. It never crossed my mind that you had. Here I’m worrying that I disappointed you.”

  “What?” His brows rose in disbelief. “You’re doing great. Ever think you’d get this close to a horse outside of a stall or corral?”

  Nikki smiled. “I was going to point that out to you.”

  “Don’t you worry, darlin’, I’m paying attention.”

  Her mood deflated. “I really don’t like you calling me that.” She watched him frown and fidget with the brim of his Stetson. He called guests darlin’ all the time. Especially if he’d forgotten the woman’s name. She wouldn’t explain why it bothered her. But she refused to be part of the herd. He could figure it out for himself. Or not. As long as he stopped.

  “I won’t do it anymore.”

  “Okay, then we’re good.” She patted her pockets for her keys, then remembered she’d left them in the ignition.

  “If you’re feeling edgy because of Wallace, we can wait on your lessons.”

  “I don’t give a damn about the man, and you know it.” That he would say something so stupid pissed her off. Why was everyone trying to make her feel guilty for not caring? She had no reason to feel anything but contempt.

  “Doesn’t matter if you care or not. He’s sick and dying right there in the house. The atmosphere changes. For everyone.” He kept looking at her, even when she glared back. “I bet the hands living in the bunkhouse who can’t stand him are affected. That’s the way it goes.”

  “What do you know about it?”

  “It’s been twelve years but I damn well remember what it was like when my dad died.”

  “No, you don’t understand. Everyone loved your dad.” Nikki regretted her childish tone the second she heard her own voice. But Trace didn’t get it. People spoke Gavin McAllister’s name with reverence.

  “He was a great man. The best man I’ve ever known,” Trace said, turning to pet Gypsy. “He was a fair employer. And a good father, though I might’ve argued that point a few times when I was fourteen and getting grounded every month.” He smiled a little. “But to say everyone loved him? That’s stretching it. Dad had some zero-tolerance rules about conduct on the ranch and if the line got crossed, there were no exceptions. Some guys didn’t see that as being fair. He’d had his share of getting flipped off behind his back. But once my dad was too sick to get out and work alongside the men, the whole mood around the place changed.

  “Even my friends didn’t want to come over and play pool. For months Dad was confined to his bed, so nobody saw him. Just the family and the nurse who’d come out to check on him and bring pain meds. It’s not only about knowing he’s upstairs suffering, but looking around while you do everyday things and recognizing his absence. Lucy’s feeling it, so is Matt, I guarantee you. And that’s bound to affect you.”

  Nikki hadn’t realized he’d switched from talking about his father to Wallace. She’d been too unsettled by the rawness in his voice and how his
face had changed. Usually she was good at reading people. For all the gang-related funerals she’d attended, maybe she’d never seen loss up close, because right now, it felt as if she were staring it in the face. But after twelve years?

  She was lucky she hated Wallace. If this is what loving and losing someone did to a person...

  “Hey, I didn’t mean to freak you out.” Trace was back to being himself, but with a concerned frown aimed at her.

  “You didn’t.”

  “I’m trying to tell you that you don’t have to act tough around me, Nikki. I get it.”

  “Act tough?” She scoffed. “I am tough. I’ve had to be. And no, you don’t get it.” She felt badly he’d spent those past few moments reliving his father’s illness. She did. But their situations were different and she didn’t like him thinking she was weak and needy.

  “For the sake of argument, how about we agree that you can use me as a sounding board or a shoulder to cry on if the need arises.”

  “Look, I’m sorry about your dad. You have such a great family and he was too young, but I’m fine. I am. I—” She totally lost her train of thought when she saw tenderness soften the lines bracketing his mouth. Why did she find it so hard to accept kindness? She didn’t doubt Trace’s sincerity, so why was she always unprepared for it? Looking past him, she stared at the cloudless blue sky, the snowcapped peaks of the Rockies. So much beauty. She should be finding peace inside, not panic, certainly not fear that her legs would give out. Oh, God...

  Trace was quick, startling both the mare and her. He reached Nikki, and put his arms around her before she could tell him to stop. She was tempted to sag against his broad chest until the shakiness passed. For that same reason, she struggled to get away from him. Maybe that was the trouble with him. He made her weak. His kindness, the concerned looks and gentle touches chipped away at her defenses. Somehow he seemed to see past her facade and that was dangerous for her. How had he even known about her horse phobia? Matt hadn’t seen it.

  “Come on, now. I’m not hurting you.” Trace loosened his hold. “I’m not even gonna kiss you.” He had that damn smile in his voice. “Of course if you want me to...”

  She’d quit fighting him when he mentioned the kiss, but realized it only now. And then told herself it was better that she stay where she was so he couldn’t see her face. “Trace, I swear—”

  “I’m just teasing you.” His short husky laugh skipped along her nerve endings. He began gently stroking her back, she imagined, much like how he’d been stroking Gypsy’s neck. “I have something to say but not while we’re looking at each other.” He rested his chin on top of her head. His heart pounded against the palm she laid on his chest. “Okay?”

  It was probably a trick to spark her curiosity. “I don’t like my hands and arms trapped like this.”

  “Put them around my waist. I don’t mind.”

  She laughed. “Oh, Trace.”

  “What?” He leaned back to look at her. “I’m serious. I have something to tell you.”

  “All right. I’m listening.” She couldn’t seem to stay mad at him, which was irritating in itself. Another reason she should stay away from him, not be meeting him in secret. If there was another guy like him on the planet, she sure hadn’t met him.

  His chest expanded on a sigh. “I’ve never told anyone this so I’d appreciate you not repeating it.”

  “I won’t.” She slipped her arms free and slid them around him, pressing her cheek to his chest, feeling his strong steady heartbeat.

  “One day my father and I were mending fences in the north pasture. I was pissed off that I had to work that particular afternoon because we were having a dance at school later, and any one of the hands could’ve been doing the work. But my dad, he had this thing about doing different projects with each son. Cole had had lots of one-on-one time with him when he was in high school and so had Jesse. Dad wanted to make sure we boys knew how to do everything on the ranch and felt it was a good way to spend individual time with us.

  “Well, I bitched and moaned that I wouldn’t be ready in time to pick up my date, it was my first dance and I’d be too tired to enjoy it and on and on. Normally he would’ve let me go and we would’ve rescheduled. But I’d done that to him twice before so I could try out for varsity football. Then once he’d had to cancel.” Trace paused. “I reminded him of that and accused him of never having been that stubborn with Cole and Jesse. Not the day of their first dance. Why poor me?”

  His sudden slide to sarcasm jolted her. She tried not to tense, especially since he was already holding her kind of tight, but she knew something bad was coming.

  “He smiled at me, said ‘you’re right, son, this can wait for another time.’ He looked tired and there was no reason for him to work alone. I told him he should ride back to the house with me. He shook his head, told me to go, and I was still mad, checking my watch and my phone, too anxious to jump in the shower to care what he did.

  “The next day, he and my mom sat all of us kids down. Jesse was home for the weekend from college. And they told us Dad had cancer. He’d taken too long to go see the doc. The late diagnosis meant he didn’t have much time left.” Trace swallowed. “We never did finish the fence line together. That afternoon in the north pasture was the last day he got his hands dirty. When he’d said there’d be another time, he’d lied. He knew he was too weak. He’d wanted to give me that last day and I was a total friggin’ self-centered asshole.”

  “Oh, God, Trace, don’t—” She tried to look at him but he wouldn’t let her. Unsure what emotion she’d find in his face, she let him have his dignity and just hugged him. “I hope you’re not still holding on to that argument. From what I’ve heard about your dad, he would never want that for you.”

  “Wanna know what I regret the most? I never brought it up. It ate at me yet I pretended the argument never happened. Hell, it wasn’t an argument, it was me mouthing off. I was so ashamed and stupid. That damn McAllister pride that kept him from seeing the doctor kept me from telling him I—” His voice broke. “Talk about stupid. I don’t know why I’m telling you this.”

  Nikki knew why. He’d given her a piece of himself so she’d feel comfortable confiding in him. What an incredible gift. Her eyes were moist, and she blinked like crazy when he leaned back, threading his fingers through her hair. She finally looked up at him, and found his tender smile almost more than she could take.

  “Thank you,” she whispered.

  “I didn’t do anything.”

  She just smiled back, amazed at how familiar his face had become. His green eyes had darkened and his mouth looked firm and soft at the same time. “I don’t suppose one kiss would hurt,” she said, her heart pounding. “Do you?”

  His brief hesitation surprised her, then he slowly lowered his head, and she pushed up onto her toes to meet him halfway.

  6

  HE SLANTED HIS MOUTH to fit hers better, and flipped the hat off his head when it got in the way. A soft kiss, a few nibbles, teasing her lips before he ran his tongue along the lower one. She opened for him, eager to taste him, anxious for him to give her more. She smiled a little against his mouth. If he didn’t want to be hurried, it wouldn’t happen.

  Trace’s lips moved in a faint smile in return, his warm moist breath gliding over her tongue and melding with her own. His fingers tightened in her hair and she wasn’t sure whose heart pounded faster when he slipped his tongue inside her mouth.

  She’d thought about this moment...what it would be like. Back in Houston right after she and Matt had returned. For a few nights she’d lain awake in bed wondering what kind of kisser Trace would be. In the end, she’d decided that while he might be a flirt, he’d be considerate. Trace would want to leave a woman satisfied.

  Too soon he withdrew, but before she could object, he trailed his lips to the side of her neck. He nipped at her earlobe as he ran a hand down her back, stopping at the curve of her ass. His soft moan against her sensitized skin flooded
her with longing. He found her lips again, the urgency clear, his tongue thrusting against hers. She tasted his desire and passion, and fisted her hands, torn between pushing him away and pulling him to the ground with her.

  But it was Trace who ended up gentling the kiss. Then drew back so he could see her eyes. His seemed troubled. “What are we doing?”

  Looking at him made it hard to answer. “I don’t know,” she said, burying her face in his shoulder. He held her against the warmth and strength of his chest, and while part of her wanted nothing more but to be right where she was it also scared her to feel so safe, even for these few fleeting moments. “Maybe we should stop until we do.”

  “I reckon that’s wise,” he muttered, sounding as confused and miserable as she was.

  Neither of them moved. Then Nikki finally took the initiative. She was smarter than to travel this dangerous road only to satisfy a physical urge. Her options were so few already. If she left Blackfoot Falls, she wanted the decision to be hers. Not made for her because of a weak moment.

  As she moved farther back, Trace seemed to have trouble letting go of her hand. She seriously flirted with the thought of just saying screw it. Even if they had sex just this one time. Only they would know. That alone told her she’d been right to stop before impulse replaced good sense. The old Nikki had taken that route and look how much trouble that had landed her.

  “You don’t need to worry about next time,” Trace said, scooping his hat off the ground and studying her face. “This doesn’t have to happen again.”

  “It won’t.”

  His jaw tightened. “I was kind of hoping we’d leave that open.”

  “Oh.” She lifted a hand to block the sun. His lips were still damp, and his eyes dilated and dark. Something fluttered in her belly. “Well, it probably wasn’t a good idea.”