Marriage, Maverick Style!

by Christine Rimmer

  “Thanks. So far I’m managing, but I’ll definitely keep your offer in mind.”

  “I grabbed a sandwich at the Manor Bar, where I ran into Mayor Traub, who invited me up to his house on Falls Mountain for dinner tomorrow. He promised to give me a tour of his saddle-making workshop. Did you know the guy makes these amazing custom saddles?”

  “I did.”

  “The mayor also promised barbecued ribs—some special family recipe, he said. He told me that one of his cousins is the DJ Traub of DJ’s Rib Shack fame.”

  Tessa had met the DJ Traub several times. “I know DJ. He lives down in Thunder Canyon now, with his wife and children. And did you know that Mayor Traub used to be plain old Collin Traub, who was about the baddest bad boy Rust Creek Falls has ever seen? No one could believe it when he and Willa Christensen fell in love. They’d been at odds practically since they were in diapers. Oh, and Collin and Nate Crawford grew up sworn enemies, too.”

  “Not possible. Those two are thick as thieves now, always plotting new ways to bring more business opportunities to this burg.”

  “Burg?” She shoved at his chest for that. “You’d better not let Collin or Nate hear you call our town a burg. They’ll truss you up on Main Street in front of the town hall and let everyone throw rotten fruit at you.”

  He put up both hands and pretended to be terrified. “Don’t let them hurt me.”

  “I won’t be able to stop them. You need to remember to show some respect.”

  “I will, absolutely.” He tried to look regretful. But he mostly just looked handsome and far too appealing for her peace of mind. “Collin said I should bring a friend tomorrow night. That would be you. Will you come?”

  “Thank you, I will.” She turned back to the table and picked up that towel again.

  “Tessa...” He moved in closer and nuzzled her hair.

  It felt simply glorious, just to have him near—and if she didn’t keep her wits about her, she’d end up on her back with him on top of her faster than she could say the word moonshine. She faced him and put on her tough-girl voice. “Watch yourself there, friend.”

  “Tessa...” He said her name in a teasing whisper that time and tried to pull her close again. She snapped him with the towel. “Ow!”

  “Go on upstairs. I’ll be there in a few minutes. I just need to finish folding these.”

  He failed to obey, which didn’t surprise her. Instead, he picked up a towel and folded it. No way had she expected that.

  “Just being helpful,” he said in response to her surprised glance.

  They folded in silence, side by side, and she reminded herself not to get all dewy-eyed because the big-shot CEO was giving her a hand with the laundry.

  * * *

  That night, they stayed in and ate in the dining room. Later, they hung around in the downstairs sitting room with her grandparents. Carson seemed comfortable. He even agreed to play hearts when her grandfather pulled out a dog-eared deck and started shuffling. Tessa hauled the card table out of the hall closet, and Carson set it up for them.

  Her grandma had a thousand and one questions for Tessa’s new friend and she wasn’t shy about asking them. Melba not only just had to know about his parents’ divorce and his mother’s remarriage, his father’s death and the names of his nightclubs and restaurants, she also wanted to know if he’d ever been married.

  Tessa tried to intervene at that point. “Grandma. Give the poor guy a break.”

  But Carson stepped right up. “It’s okay, Tessa.” He told her grandma, “I married my high school sweetheart the summer after our junior year at UCLA.”

  “But you got a divorce.” Melba pursed her lips disapprovingly, as though just saying the D word left a bad taste in her mouth.

  Carson explained how Marianne had wanted a family right away. “But I didn’t. We keep in touch, though. And she’s happy now, with the way it all turned out.”

  “I don’t believe in divorce,” declared Melba, as though that was going to be news to anyone. “But it appears you’ve had the best possible outcome of a failed marriage.”

  Tessa stifled a groan of embarrassment, but again, Carson didn’t seem bothered in the least. He said, “My ex is a happy woman, and my life is good. It could have been a whole lot worse.”

  Her grandfather grunted. “Melba, your turn.”

  By the time Melba decided which card to play, the subject of Carson’s ex-wife had been left behind.

  Later, they sat out on the front porch, just Tessa and Carson, and talked until well past midnight. Then they walked up the stairs hand in hand. The whole way up, she thought about how much she wanted to kiss him.

  But it was only the second day of their new “friendship,” after all. She needed to keep the brakes on or she’d end up zipping right through the friend zone, headed straight for a full-blown affair.

  Maybe she wanted that. Maybe they would end up in bed together again.

  But not tonight.

  When they reached her door, she wished him good-night and ducked quickly into her room.

  * * *

  The next evening, they drove up Falls Mountain, past the spectacular wall of falling water that gave the mountain its name, to Collin and Willa Traub’s beautiful, rustic house. Collin had inherited the house from a bachelor uncle and enlarged it, taking out walls, adding rooms and lots of windows. One wall of windows gave a spectacular view of the pine-and fir-covered mountains and of Rust Creek Falls, looking so small and quaint and charming in the valley below.

  Collin led Carson down to his saddle-making workshop in the basement. Tessa stayed upstairs with Willa, a kindergarten teacher at RCF Elementary, and their baby boy who’d been born at the end of March. His name was Robert Wayne.

  Willa insisted that Tessa hold him.

  “Really, I’m just bad with babies,” she tried to protest.

  “No one is ‘just bad with babies,’” Willa said. “Here.”

  Tessa gave in and took the baby. The second she curved her arms around him, little Robbie started wailing. “See? I warned you.” Tessa handed the red-faced bundle back to his mom. “Babies hate me.”

  Willa smiled knowingly as she gathered Robbie close. “Wait till it’s your own.”

  Oh, I plan to. Indefinitely. “I’m sure you’re right,” Tessa agreed. Because seriously, why argue? Babies were adorable and she totally loved them—they just didn’t love her.

  Willa cooed at her baby, and he settled right down. Tessa set the table as Robbie nursed. Then Willa took him to his room to change him and put him down.

  “Out like a light,” Willa said when she returned to the kitchen. “He’s a good baby. If we’re lucky, we’ll get through dinner.”

  As they put the food on the table, Tessa explained how she was on the lookout for graphic design projects. “I’ll take any job, no matter how small. I design everything from websites to yard sale ads to community car wash flyers. I’m hoping to get enough business going that I can move to Rust Creek Falls.”

  Willa suggested she check in at the high school. Maybe Tessa could teach a summer workshop in graphic design to boost her profile in the community. “And Kalispell isn’t far. I’m sure you could find work there.”

  At dinner, the talk was mostly of plans Collin had to bring jobs and services to Rust Creek Falls. “Gotta tell you, Carson,” he said. “I’m disappointed that you changed your mind about buying Homer’s moonshine for Drake Distilleries.”

  Carson shook his head. “Sorry. Drake Distilleries is getting nowhere near that stuff.”

  Collin served himself another helping of ribs. “I was kind of hoping that the publicity might bring us more investors for our various projects around town.”

  “Trust me,” Carson said. “Nobody needs that kind of publicity.”

  Te
ssa stuck a rib bone in the air. “Allow me to second that.”

  Willa and Collin shared a long look. Then Willa asked, “So, you guys tried it?”

  Tessa glanced across at Carson. A little thrill shivered through her and she realized that somehow, in the past few days, the awful thing that had happened to them Monday night didn’t seem so bad anymore.

  Oh, she would never stop wanting to kick Homer’s butt for being such an irresponsible, crazy old fool. But still.

  The past couple of days had done a lot to change her mind about the whole thing. Now, no matter what happened between the two of them in the end, even if he flew back to LA tomorrow and she never saw him again, she would remember with fondness the night of the moonshine and how hard he’d worked afterward to get another chance with her. She would be glad that she’d known him. And that included her hazy recollections of what had happened in his bed.

  “Okay, you two,” Collin chided indulgently. “Your ribs will get cold.”

  Tessa realized she’d been sitting absolutely still, holding that same chewed-clean rib bone, staring into Carson’s eyes for way longer than necessary. “Ahem.” She set down the bone and blotted her lips with her napkin.

  Willa prompted, “So, did you try the moonshine or not?”

  Carson glanced Tessa’s way again. At her quick nod of permission, he answered, “We did.”

  “And?”

  “I’ll say this. I don’t think either of us will ever forget the experience—even though that stuff basically knocked us out cold.”

  Willa was nodding. “We had some, too. We drank the punch at the wedding picnic last Fourth of July.” She turned to look at her husband again, and her cheeks flushed pink.

  Collin stared right back at her. “It tasted good. Really good.”

  Tessa asked, “Did it knock you out?”

  “No, it didn’t.” Collin’s voice had turned a little gruff, and his gaze was still locked on his wife. “I remember everything about that night. We went home early.”

  And then Willa chuckled. “Best Fourth of July ever.”

  Tessa just had to ask. “Robbie?”

  Collin’s bad-boy grin was slow and full of satisfaction. “Yep. Our little man’s a Bonanza baby and that is no lie.”

  * * *

  The next day, Sunday, Carson’s cell rang at seven in the morning. He fumbled for the phone on the nightstand, peeled his eyes open and looked at the display. “What now, Ryan?”

  “Kristen heard that you moved to Strickland’s.”

  Carson yawned and shifted to get more comfortable in the slightly lumpy bed. “You said that Melba Strickland was the key. I went with that, more or less.”

  “Bold move. Clever.”

  “I try.”

  “Making progress with Tessa?”

  “Last night I took her to dinner up at Collin and Willa’s. It was great.” She’d kissed him at her door when they said good-night, going on tiptoe, her soft hands sliding up and hooking around his neck, her high, firm little breasts pressing into his chest, her pliant mouth tasting of coffee and Willa’s apple cobbler and the promise of more.

  Ryan interrupted the sweet memory with a suggestion. “Feel free to thank me with a little Drake Imperial.” The fifty-year-old special-edition Scotch sold for thirteen K a bottle.

  “Your advice does not come cheap, my friend.”

  “Good advice never does. So what are you doing today? Kristen and I have an invite to her parents’ place.” The Daltons owned a ranch not far from town. “Bring Tessa. Dress for riding. We’ll go up into the mountains and be back down in time for dinner with the folks.”

  * * *

  Carson tapped on Tessa’s door ten minutes later. She answered in a short satin robe, her hair loose on her shoulders, eyes a little droopy, lazy from sleep. It was a great look for her. She made his empty arms ache to hold her.

  But he restrained himself.

  “Ryan just called. He invited us to spend the day out at the Dalton Ranch. There will be horseback riding and then dinner with Kristen’s family later.”

  She had her door partway open, leaning out to him, her slim body braced between the door and the frame. “Sounds like fun. I would love to go.”

  “Excellent. But you’re crinkling your forehead. Is there a problem?”

  “Well, I was just wondering if you’ve ever been on a horse.”

  It was so nice to feel smug. “I own a horse ranch. It’s not far from Santa Barbara. I don’t get out there as much as I’d like to. But it’s a beautiful property. We raise and train Morgans and Thoroughbreds, mostly.”

  “So besides owning a ranch in Santa Barbara—” she drew out the emphasized words in a snooty tone “—you’re saying you know how to ride a horse?”

  “Yeah.”

  She wrinkled that beautiful nose at him. “Is there anything you don’t know how to do?”

  “Let me think it over. I’m sure there must be something.”

  “Humph. Dibs on the bathroom first.”

  “Wait a minute. Didn’t you have it first yesterday morning?”

  “Of course. I’m the girl. Girls get the bathroom first. They also take their time while they’re in there. Deal with it.” She tried to shut the door on him.

  But he stuck his boot in it. “This is not a fair rule.”

  “Fair schmair. Sometimes life is just that way. Now get your foot out of my door so I can grab my caddy and have my shower.”

  He gave in and went downstairs to get a coffee while he waited for the use of the bathroom. It was ridiculously inconvenient.

  And he couldn’t remember ever having so much fun.

  * * *

  Tessa thoroughly enjoyed that day.

  They spent most of it on horseback with Ryan and Kristen, riding up into the mountains, stopping often to enjoy the great views of the valley down below. When they got back down to the ranch late in the late afternoon, Kristen’s mother had cold drinks waiting.

  They all pitched in to set the table. Dinner was beer can chicken—you propped up the seasoned birds in a covered grill with a half-full can of beer in the cavity. The meat came out tender, juicy and full of flavor. Later, they all sat out on the Daltons’ long front porch as the sun disappeared behind the mountains.

  Tessa dropped off to sleep on the way back to town. When they got to the boardinghouse, Carson woke her with a kiss. Inside, they stopped to chat for a little with her grandparents and a few guests who were gathered in the sitting room.

  Upstairs, Tessa got the bathroom first. He didn’t even give her a hard time about it. Once her teeth were brushed and her face freshly washed, she lay in her bed in the dark and thought how she hadn’t been this happy in years.

  It was like they were roomies, but with a delicious, special edge of shared excitement and attraction. She wished it would never end.

  Of course, she knew that it had to. She knew that she would stay in Montana and he had a life and a couple of companies to run in Southern California. They might think they could keep their connection, might promise each other they would stay together in their hearts, that thirteen hundred miles between them was nothing.

  But realistically, long-distance relationships were impossible to maintain.

  * * *

  The next week went by way too fast. Tessa cut back on her efforts to scare up work and refused to feel bad about it. She wanted more time with Carson, and she took it.

  He wouldn’t be in town all that long, after all. And she decided to savor every minute she might have with him.

  They hiked just about every day, taking his SUV to the edge of the forest and then setting out on foot, carrying snacks and cold drinks in their backpacks, heading up the trails into the big trees.

  Carson had a real underst
anding of the wilderness—things his father had drilled into him, he said. He could distinguish deer tracks from elk, tell coyote tracks from a dog’s. Once, they found bear tracks preserved in dried mud. They were left by a black bear, he said. Grizzly prints would be larger, with longer claw marks, the toes closer together. The bear was long gone, he told her. No scat and no fresh bear sign. She teased him that if he ever got tired of running Drake Distilleries, he could always hire out as a tracker or wilderness guide.

  On Saturday, as that week drew to a close, they rented horses from a local stable and rode out east, into the valley. Sunday, they did the same, riding toward the southwest that time, finding a nice spot on Rust Creek not far from the Crawford family ranch, where they went for a swim.

  The water was icy cold. Still they laughed and splashed and dunked each other. And then they spread a blanket on the creek bank in the sun, wrapped their arms around each other and cuddled and kissed for over an hour.

  Finally, he whispered against her parted lips, “We need to stop.”

  In response, she did exactly what she knew she shouldn’t. She pressed her body closer to his, feeling the fine, hard ridge of his arousal against her belly. She wished she could melt right into him, hold on tight and never let go. She nibbled on his lower lip. “I don’t ever want to stop.”

  He kissed a hot path down the side of her throat, smoothing her still-wet hair out of his way as he went. She moaned as he sank his teeth into the crook of her shoulder. “Come to the Manor with me. Stay there with me tonight.” He breathed the words against her skin.

  Oh, she wanted to. She was more than ready to spend a whole night with him. And this time, there would be no magic moonshine to leave her wondering what had really happened. This time, she would remember every moment, every touch, every thrilling, hungry sigh.

  She kissed him eagerly, sifting her fingers through the damp silk of his hair.

  When he lifted away that time, he levered back on his knees and reached for the shirt he’d thrown there when they went swimming. She lay in the sun and watched the play of light and shadow against the beautiful musculature of his chest until he went and covered it all up with that shirt.