He looked to his right to see that Isabelle had scooted close, her eyes closed, enjoying the music. He drifted away into the lyrics of the song, and it wasn’t until Isabelle put her hand on his did he realize he was finished. For a moment, he was back on that porch enjoying the breeze with a woman he’d never really gotten to know.
The family applauded and asked for an encore. He selected something upbeat to lighten the mood. The boys were dancing with their grandmas, and everyone’s spirits shifted into a happy place again. He saw Isabelle looking at him, and he winked at her, hoping to put a smile on her face. He knew she worried about his ongoing struggle with his memories of Lila.
* * *
Two hours later when the last guest left, Tate scooped Isabelle up into his arms and sank down on the couch.
“It’s been a long night.” She loosened his tie. “I’m sorry the party lasted so long. I know you have another interview in the morning.”
“Did I ever tell you how beautiful you look when you’re tired?” He ran a hand over her ruby-painted lips.
“Tell me again.” She kissed him.
“I think the evening was successful. Your father called me by my name once, but I think it was an accident.” Tate kissed her neck.
She’d thought for a second that her dad and John Jacob were going to pull pistols and duel. But after they shared a drink, her father did ease up on Tate just a little bit.
“I count that as some sort of progress.” She giggled at the friction from his facial hair against her skin.
“Let’s get you something to eat. You must be starving.” Tate retrieved the room service menu from the coffee table.
“What?” Isabelle blinked.
“Aside from that shrimp you shared with Jake, you barely ate anything all night. I’m sure there’s something on this menu you’d like.” Tate picked up the phone and called room service.
The minute she bit into that shrimp she thought her cover would be blown for sure. She was being nosey trying to figure out what her dad and John Jacob were talking about by the bar and wasn’t paying attention to what Jake was offering her.
Tate spouted off waffles and some other of her favorites to the person taking the order, and suddenly she was hungry.
“Baby, can you have them bring some hot sauce too? I want to put some on those waffles.”
“Uh…OK.” Tate asked for the hot sauce.
“I’m glad things worked out with booking Lucinda. Lucky for you she could fill in for the Dirty Rascals. I wouldn’t be surprised if she was responsible for Roscoe’s laryngitis.”
“That was a great idea to suggest Lucinda. Her management group asked if I was sure I still wanted to go through with it when I went downstairs, like they were ready to leak a new fake scandal to further her music career.”
“Is her broken heart ballad still going strong on the charts?” Isabelle rolled her eyes.
“I have no idea. I’m sorry about all this.”
“Sorry for what? You didn’t make her write the song.”
“Yeah, but I kind of inspired it.” He looked at her for a long time. “You ever think being with me is…too much trouble?”
“Loving you has been one of the greatest joys in my life. And I won’t let anyone, not crazed, lovelorn singers or stubborn fathers, diminish that.” She nestled closer to him.
She loved him and that was all that mattered. When the food came, Tate and Isabelle pigged out on the couch and talked about their wedding. By the time they retired to bed for the evening, they’d agreed they wanted something simple and elegant in the backyard of the cabin, and that it would be cool if they could get Rowdy into a doggie tuxedo.
CHAPTER FOUR
Tate got off to an early start while Isabelle languished in bed for another hour. During all the partying last night she’d forgotten to ask anyone if they had plans for the day. She wasn’t nauseous when she woke, so Tate’s ordering breakfast wasn’t considered a hostile act. She danced around the suite as she nibbled on a piece of cantaloupe, thankful the baby was giving her a reprieve today. There was a knock at the door. She opened it to find Morgan, Michelle, and Sam dressed in nice tops, shorts and sandals, looking like they were ready for a day of fun.
“Hey, ladies!” She ushered them into the living room. “What’s going on?”
“We came to steal you away for the afternoon,” Morgan said.
“Hey, weren’t you taller?” Isabelle said to Sam. Even without the high heels she wore, she was still a good four inches taller than the group.
“I’m trying casual footwear this week. Besides I feel like a giant when I’m around all of you.” Sam laughed.
“Maybe you could siphon off some of that supermodel height to the rest of us.” Morgan giggled.
“Michelle, nice to see you could tear yourself away from Tyler.” Isabelle waggled her eyebrows.
“Tyler’s out with the guys.” Michelle raspberried the group. “I have some hot gossip.”
“So do I. If you get a cold chill at night it’s not because the temperature has dropped, Charisma’s in town.” Morgan poured herself some orange juice at the bar.
“I was going to pretend I hadn’t heard that.” Isabelle leaned back into the couch cushions.
“Are you kidding me?” Michelle sat on the edge of her seat.
“Yeah. I hope your gossip is better than that.” Isabelle nibbled on a piece of cantaloupe.
“I saw Channing’s dream girl in D.C.! We were having dinner with him two weeks ago, and she came into the restaurant,” Michelle said.
“Cassidy, is it?” Sam asked.
“Yes. She’s pretty, and from what I can tell, she’s into him too. They were both very casual about it, but you could cut the sexual tension with a knife.” Michelle bit into a strawberry.
“I bet if Emma stopped dropping in whenever she felt like it, he’d have asked Cassidy out by now. We have to break the Winterbourne spell over this family,” Morgan quipped.
The ladies nodded in agreement.
“So Michelle, did Tyler and Derek bury the hatchet yet?” Sam bit into an apple.
“In a manner of speaking.” Michelle focused on the wall.
“What’s the problem?” Isabelle said.
“Derek came into the store, and Michelle let him down easy. He told her that if Tyler made one misstep he’d be back to swoop down on her like a condor looking for supper.” Morgan moved to avoid Michelle’s pinch.
“What? Why is juicy news just reaching my ears?” Isabelle huffed.
Morgan continued. “It was over before it started. Tyler didn’t like the fact that Derek kept dropping by the bookstore even though Michelle told him she and Tyler were now a serious item. Tyler told Derek he was going to knock some of his teeth out and that he’d finally look like a professional hockey player. Seth had to step in at that point and make them have dinner together at the Slap Shot. We weren’t privy to the details, but an uneasy truce was made.”
“I don’t know how you manage to host a cooking show and work at the bookstore while managing your man problems.” Sam suppressed a laugh.
“Morgan may have been a tad dramatic about it.” Michelle rolled her eyes.
“Sure she was.” Isabelle giggled. “So what would you ladies like to do today?”
“I say shopping and lunch,” Michelle replied.
“I thought you’d need the spa to work out all those over-used muscles.” Morgan flashed a cheesy smile.
“You’re one to talk. You and Seth are in the Guinness Book of World Records under longest sex-a-thon.” Michelle threw a pillow at her.
“The man is a ball of energy. I can’t help it.” Morgan shrugged. “But Tate and Isabelle should take the gold in the sex Olympics. Every time I call they’re in bed.”
Sam laughed, and they all looked at her.
“Sam, I hope you don’t think anyone believes that gone fishin’ sign you and J.J. put up on your front door. I remember a five-day marathon last month.” Morgan
pointed a finger at her. “You two should have enough fish stockpiled to feed the whole ranch twice.”
“Tyler does this one move where…I can only describe as him being some kind of human corkscrew.” Michelle picked up a slice of cheese from the tray.
Sam’s smile fell. “Does he do a little move at the end and when he’s gearing up for the big finale, and you have to hold on for dear—”
“Life?” Morgan and Isabelle said in unison.
They all fell quiet for a moment.
“Ladies”—Michelle looked around—“I think we’ve all been McBlaked.”
“They are so busted,” Isabelle mused.
“Seth does the ‘McBlake’ when he’s in baby-making mode. Like I don’t know he’s making an extra effort to make sure his boys reach the target.” Morgan sipped her orange juice.
“I didn’t think men shared sex secrets.” Sam looked at her ringing cell phone.
“Are you kidding? They gossip more than we do. Why do you think they have so many poker games?” Isabelle chuckled.
“It’s the office, I have to take this.” Sam answered her phone and walked out of the room.
“Do we confront them?” Michelle asked.
“Let’s put this on the back burner for now.” Morgan rubbed her chin.
“Well, we’re letting the day get away from us. Are our plans still on?” Isabelle stood.
“Absolutely. I need to stop at a pharmacy. I have to pick up a few things,” Morgan said.
“I need a drink.” Michelle pushed off, headed to the bar, and grabbed a cranberry juice.
Sam came back into the room.
“Sam, how does shopping and lunch sound?” Isabelle said.
“I’m going to have to take a rain check. Duty calls.” Sam grimaced.
Isabelle shook her head. She totally got why Sam and J.J. bickered about work all the time. Being a bodyguard was ingrained in her being, and it was hard to let go. “Sam, we want you to join us. I thought you said you weren’t working this week?”
“I’m not, but a client’s daughter ran away from her boarding school, and Regency tracked her to Las Vegas. She used one of her credit cards at a poolside bar in a casino down the strip fifteen minutes ago. If I can snatch her up now, I can save a lot of manpower.”
“Can’t someone else do it?” Morgan bit her lip.
“She’s a slippery one. We sort of have a rapport. But the window on taking my advice is closing. She’s partying, who knows what frame of mind she’ll be in by the time they catch up with her.”
“Is she dangerous?” Isabelle’s eyes widened.
“Only to herself. I can handle her just fine,” Sam said in a reassuring tone.
Morgan stood. “Let’s go get the little brat and send her back to her parents so we can get on with our day.”
Sam shook her head. “Ladies, it’s bad enough I will have to incur John’s wrath once he finds out what I’m doing. I don’t want the entire Blake family mad at me.”
“Nonsense. We were going to lunch anyway. We can have it there at the poolside restaurant after we capture her.” Michelle rubbed her hands together as if she were devising a plan.
“This is a family-themed week. You’re family. J.J’s out playing a round of golf with the guys. He’d be pretty upset if you aren’t spending quality time with your future sister-in-laws,” Isabelle chimed in.
Sam gave everyone a stern look. “OK, this will be a simple extraction. I don’t want anyone doing anything crazy. Nothing physical. Got it?”
“Do you need handcuffs? I have a pair in my room,” Michelle mused.
“Extraction, I like that.” Morgan’s eyes lit up.
“We make a pretty good team. Look at how well we kidnapped Tyler, and everything turned out all right.” Isabelle grabbed her purse.
* * *
Tate dropped by Isabelle’s parents’ suite with the intention of asking the colonel to have drinks with him, but he was relieved when Cecelia said he’d gone out with his brother Curtis. The tension between them hadn’t lessened the last two days, and he was just about out of ideas. He needed…a big hug and comforting words from his mom. Tate was happy when Teri-Lyn said she had some free time; he missed having their weekly talk on account of all that was going on with the concert. He gave the band an extended lunch break so he could take a stroll with her down the strip. They stopped in front of the Bellagio to watch the fountain show. One look in his eyes and she could tell something was wrong.
“I’ve never seen you so frazzled. How’s everything going? Lucas warming up to you yet?” Teri-Lyn linked her arm with his.
“No.”
“There’s nothing to worry about. Your father and I are here to support you.”
“How was the atmosphere last night?” The parents had gone to dinner and a show.
“The night started off rocky when one of the audience performers tried to engage with Lucas, and it didn’t go over well. The rest of the night was a staring contest between him and your daddy. Cecelia and I had a good time. She’s a sweet woman. I see where Isabelle gets her grace and beauty.”
“She told me she’s been a fan of mine for a long time.” He laughed.
“She means it.”
Tate rubbed the back of his neck. “I don’t want Isabelle to feel like she has to choose between me and her father.”
“What makes you think she has to?”
“The writing’s on the wall.”
“The week isn’t over yet, so don’t go rehearsing lines from Romeo and Juliet just yet. Lucas will come around.” She gave him a shot in the arm.
“Can I show you something?”
“Of course.” She smiled.
“This is for you.” Tate retrieved the letter Lila hadn’t had a chance to mail from his back pocket. “I found this in Lila’s things. She didn’t get a chance to send it.”
Teri-Lyn clutched the letter, and her eyes teared up.
“I also found a bunch of letters from you that go back years.”
“She kept them. Bless her heart.” Teri-Lyn shook her head.
“How long had you and Lila been writing each other?”
“We started corresponding the first time you came to live with us.”
Tate felt like someone knocked the wind out of him. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because it was something between two friends. Your mother and I had a lot of history, that’s why she trusted me with you in the first place. No matter what she was going through, she always thought of you. Writing to each other helped ease some of the pain of having to let you go to keep you safe.”
“I had no idea she—” The lump in Tate’s throat wouldn’t let him continue.
“Loved you so much?”
“Well, yeah.” Tate blinked.
Teri-Lyn gave him back the letter. “I think you should read this. I have every letter your mother ever wrote me and I’ll give them to you when we get back to the ranch.”
He shook his head. “Life is full of surprises.”
“Both you and Isabelle deserve a future that isn’t riddled with the past. Maybe reading those letters will put things in context for you.” She sniffed. “Now, how about that ice cream?”
“You got it. There’s a place two blocks away that lets you put unconventional toppings on like anchovies and pepperoni.”
“That sounds more like a pregnancy craving. When I was pregnant with C.J. I put ketchup on everything.” She laughed.
Tate stopped in his tracks. “Pregnancy cravings, eh? Ever try hot sauce on waffles?”
“No, but that sounds like a pregnant woman who loves spicy stuff.”
* * *
When Tate got a text from Tyler asking him to drop by Channing’s suite, he found Channing, Bo, and Jared all dressed up and ready to hit the town. The evening entailed drinking, gambling, and club hopping. It all seemed innocent enough; besides, the men were determined to ditch their nerdy personas and cut loose. Tyler had refused an invitation to be the
ir wingman tonight but was coaching the men on the best strategies for picking up women. After a twenty-minute speech riddled with racing lingo and making a lot of squiggly lines on a dry erase board, Tyler called a time out.
“Would football analogies work better? Do I need to get Seth in here to explain this?” Tyler said.
“No!” Bo yelled. “We’ll never get out of this suite if he starts talking football.”
“It would be simpler if you just came with us,” Channing huffed.
Tyler shook his head. “I’m not getting involved in any shenanigans that will prevent more romantic evenings with Michelle.”
“Good boy.” Tate smiled at his brother’s decision to err on the side of caution. He was taking his relationship with Michelle very seriously, and it made him think before he did something crazy these days.
Tyler paced back and forth. “Now you remember what I told you. This is supposed to be a fun, no-strings weekend. Don’t go telling every woman you meet your life story. And if she asks where you’re staying just say down the strip unless you want her staking out the lobby for the rest of the week looking for you. In the event you get lucky, keep it covered at all times.”
“Keep what covered?” Bo gave him a quizzical look.
“They’re not ready. I think they need more coaching. Tate, help me out.” Tyler ran a hand over his face.
Tate laughed to himself. He was looking at three of the smartest men he knew, but they were all clueless when it came to women. They could design buildings, run a billion-dollar corporation, and argue the law, but they would be catnip to savvy women looking to bag a rich prince. Poor Channing and Bo had never become quite the hounds like the rest of the Blake men had, and Jared had been flying below the radar since his divorce.
“Boys, don’t make a mistake that you wouldn’t want to follow you home.” Tate quoted the exact words from John Jacob’s birds and bees talk.
“Huh?” Channing scratched his temple.
“I think Tyler and Tate are trying to say that we shouldn’t use poor judgment and spend all our lunch money on the first pretty face that sweet talks us.” Jared chuckled.
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