“Anyhow,” Cole went on, “half the boys are out on the dance floor and the other half are evenly distributed between the dartboard and the pool table.”
“Including your buddies?” Cole had asked two of his wrangler friends from Texas to make up the wedding party.
“My buddies.” Cole snorted. “Oh, no, they’ve got other things on their minds. Your fellow usher’s chatting up one of the waitresses over in the corner, and Tyler—” the best man “—has taken over the other corner with Shay from the Big Dipper. Not a bad thing, though, if he can sweet-talk her into a discount on ice cream.”
Pete shook his head. “Guess you might as well have invited Tina to keep you company.”
“And Jane to help set your mind at ease?”
“What does that mean?” he snapped.
“Whoa. No disrespect, boss—and remember, you can’t take a swing at the groom. But—” Pete raised his glass “—though I’ve had a couple, it’s not affecting my eyesight yet. Something’s been worrying you this week, and it looks like you brought it along with you tonight.”
He’d be damned if he would admit Jane had caused his distraction.
He hadn’t seen her since their conversation on the porch Monday night. Her parents weren’t due in until tomorrow, but according to Cole, Andi’s dad had already arrived. He had thought he’d be grateful Jane’s uncle provided a diversion for her, letting him off the hook about following her around the Hitching Post. The reality was, he kept coming up with crazy reasons to wander over to the hotel.
He shifted his beer glass on the bar. Then, glancing at Cole, he gave a response that covered part of the truth. “Rachel’s been acting up.”
“Ah,” Cole said heavily, shaking his head. “Kids’ll do that.”
He grinned. “Listen to you, an expert already.”
Cole, who had learned only a few months back that Robbie was his son, accepted the good-natured jab. “It feels that way sometimes,” he bragged. “I wouldn’t have it any other way. But I’m more skilled with boys than girls. And of course, I’ve always got Tina there to help me. I’d imagine that makes a difference.”
“Yeah.” He and Cole often talked about his single-dad status, but this was the closest his friend had ever come to making a comment about Marina.
Cole picked at the label on his bottle. “You sure it’s Rachel that’s worrying you this week, and not Jane? If so, maybe Tina could help you out, seeing as they’re cousins.”
“What does Jane have to do with anything?”
“I don’t know. Maybe it was the way you snapped when I said her name. All I know is, when I came back to town, I got defensive whenever my sister mentioned Tina. The it-doesn’t-matter kind of defensive. Probably why I recognize it in you now.” He took a swig from the bottle. “But if it’s really the kids you’re needing some advice about, run things by Jed. He’s a man in a million.”
“He is that.”
“Just be prepared. You’ll soon find him encouraging you in a certain direction, nudging you toward the way he wants you to go.”
“You sure you haven’t gone over your limit on the beer? What are you talking about?” He had the sinking feeling he already knew. Should already have realized long before this.
Jed wasn’t the kind of man to force someone to repay a debt. He wasn’t the sort to keep reminding a man who owed him. But just like Pete, he darn sure was a man who would do anything for his family.
“Jed felt he knew what was best for me and Tina,” Cole said.
“You mean he fixed you two up?”
“He was more devious than that, but yeah. He thought we were a pair. So I speak from experience when I tell you he thinks he knows what’s best.” Cole laughed. “And seeing how things turned out for me, I’d say he’s right on the mark.”
The idea of the boss giving his blessing to a relationship between his ranch manager and one of his granddaughters made Pete take a good, long swallow of beer to ease his tight throat. There was no one he respected more than Jed Garland. No one.
But this time the man had made a bad call.
Sure, Jane was getting better looking to him by the day. That kiss of theirs had left him wanting more. He’d envisioned having her in his bed. But his dreams about her had to stop there.
It would be safer for his kids if he didn’t get attached to her.
He took another drink of his brew.
What was he thinking?
He’d never had plans to get attached to Jane. One kiss sure didn’t mean they were joined at the hip. He wasn’t connected emotionally or physically...only by a debt to her grandfather he could never fully repay.
Well, she would be busy with her parents flying in tomorrow and staying for the wedding. He would just avoid her for the rest of her visit. And once she had left, he’d stop thinking about her altogether.
He only prayed that Rachel would be more successful at that than he would.
“Sorry to tell you this, Cole.” He forced himself to shake his head in sympathy. “If Jed thinks he’s got another groom lined up for a second granddaughter, he’s facing some real disappointment.”
Chapter Ten
Twenty-four hours after the bachelor party, Pete sat in the dining room of the Hitching Post with another drink in front of him—this time, a glass of champagne. He’d needed something to cut the dryness in his throat.
In the small wedding chapel adjacent to the hotel, Father Alfredo and the wedding party had done a practice run-through for tomorrow’s ceremony.
Just a couple of hours ago, he had learned he’d been paired with Jane. He’d had to take her by the arm to escort her down the aisle. Had to shorten his stride—though not by much—to match hers. Had to inhale the perfume she wore, the same vanilla and spice that had surprised him the first time he’d seen her in the barn.
He glanced toward the far side of the room, where she stood focusing her camera on the center table. Instead of the body-hugging dress of his dreams, she wore a long-sleeved black top and pants of some shimmery material. Every time she moved, the fabric sparkled like the skim of ice on a lake.
The thought of what Cole had told him about Jed’s hopes for his eldest granddaughter had him wanting to shake his head. His interest in Jane hadn’t eased one bit, but...anticipating a serious relationship with her? Not in this lifetime.
The dining room was crowded. Between the bride and groom, Jed and Paz, Jed’s two sons and one daughter-in-law, and Father Alfredo, the main table was filled. The rest of the group had overflowed to some of the smaller ones set around the room.
Pete shared his table with Rachel and Jane. He wondered who’d come up with that seating arrangement.
At the center table, Cole’s best man rose, champagne glass in hand. “I’d say these pre-wedding festivities call for a pre-wedding toast.”
“You didn’t do enough of that last night, Ty?” Cole asked, grinning.
“I’m practicing for tomorrow.” Tyler raised his glass. “To the bride-and groom-to-be.”
“Daddy, I can do the toast, too.” Rachel grinned as widely as Cole had as she held up her long-stemmed glass filled with apple juice.
Jane’s champagne sat untouched beside her empty plate. She hadn’t eaten anything yet. In fact, she hadn’t come near their table. All night, she had done nothing but prowl the room restlessly, her camera never out of her hands.
Pete focused on Rachel. As he smiled and touched his glass to hers, he thought again of what he’d said to Cole last night about facing disappointment. This time, he didn’t think of Jed, who sat smiling from his seat at the head of the center table, but of Rachel and Eric. And, much as he didn’t want to admit the truth, he thought of himself.
After his ex-wife had left to start her career, she’d come back from time to time to see the ki
ds. But the space between those visits had lengthened with each one, until last year, when the divorce had become final. Since then, she hadn’t been back once.
He knew Marina’s hit-or-miss schedule upset both his children, especially Rachel. She was old enough to remember her mama’s sudden appearances and disappearances, smart enough to notice how long it had been since they had seen Marina at all, and vulnerable enough to hang her heart on every single one of Marina’s promises to visit. Promises she had broken, time after time.
Probably why he’d reacted so badly at hearing Jane make a promise to Rachel she hadn’t fulfilled.
His ex-wife’s interactions with the kids, like her visits before the divorce, had been superficial and fleeting. He could foresee the same situation developing with Jane. He couldn’t fault her for that. But he could envision the impending disaster.
Like a newborn calf turning instinctively to seek its mama, Rachel had gravitated to Jane. Somehow Eric, young as he was, and maybe picking up on Rachel’s actions, had done the same. Whether or not Jane realized or wanted or intended it, she was bonding with his kids. And just like with their mama, when Jane left, Rachel would be devastated.
“Daddy, doesn’t Jane look so pretty?”
He froze, feeling sure everyone in the room had heard Rachel’s question and sat waiting for his answer. To his surprise, when he glanced around, no one seemed to be paying him any attention.
“All the ladies look pretty tonight,” he told Rachel. “Including my little lady.”
She giggled. “You mean me!”
“I sure do.”
She looked down at her white blouse and plucked at her red skirt. “This is okay, but not like my dress for tomorrow.”
“I can hardly wait to see you in it,” he assured her. And he meant it. She had told him everything she could recall about the trips to the bridal shop in Santa Fe, everything except a description of the dresses, which had been kept top secret. And Rachel, chatterbox that she was, hadn’t said a word. He was heart-bustingly proud of her.
His gaze went to Jane again, and he realized how eagerly he was waiting to see her dress for the wedding, too.
Looking at her brought on another bout of confusion.
He refused to think of his feelings about her. Yet, he’d continued to come up with excuses that would bring him near her. He didn’t know how much longer he could fight them. Tonight, he felt damned grateful the decision had been taken out of his hands.
“Daddy, here comes Jane. She can take my picture now.”
Jane must have overheard the statement. When she reached their table, she picked up her champagne glass without meeting his eyes.
“Do the toast with me,” Rachel demanded.
Smiling, Jane touched glasses with her.
“Now do the toast with Daddy.”
Her smile unwavering, Jane turned to him.
As they clicked their glasses together, the backs of their fingers brushed, just long enough for him to feel the heat of her skin.
“Can Jane take the picture now, Daddy?”
Jane’s gaze met his. He nodded. She raised her glass slightly as if toasting him for agreeing, then took a sip of champagne.
Rachel settled herself in her chair, folded her hands in her lap and said, “I’m ready.”
“Okay.” Jane raised her camera. “Give me a big smile. That’s it.” The camera clicked. “All done.”
Rachel slid from her seat. “I’m going to go talk to Robbie now.” A second later she was gone.
Frowning, Pete looked at Jane, who stood holding the camera in both hands. “That was quick.”
“Yes. It will make a nice keepsake for Rachel, but to tell you the truth, I’m not fond of staged portraits. I’d taken plenty of shots of her in action with everyone else before she posed for the camera.”
“Get them when they’re not looking.”
“Right.”
He took a sip of champagne. “I’d guess you heard Rachel when she wasn’t looking, too.”
“Her voice does carry, just like yours. She’s right about her dress. You won’t recognize your little girl tomorrow.”
“Don’t be too sure. I think I’d know her anywhere. But what about you—got any surprises for me?”
“What? Are you asking me to break my vow of silence?”
She’d sounded mocking, which didn’t match the way she stared past him as if his response didn’t matter. What was he asking? Not for promises or vows, broken or fulfilled. “No, you’re safe there.”
“Good, because I won’t tell you a thing. You’ll just have to wait and see.”
He smiled, already seeing what he wanted to see.
Then he stared a bit longer and saw something more.
He looked at her calm silver-gray eyes and envisioned them sparkling like the shimmery fabric of her dress. He noted the small, polite smile on her lips and imagined taking that mouth with his. He didn’t want to wait for whatever surprises she might have in store. He wanted to surprise her. To kiss her again. Right here. And right now.
Tearing his gaze away, he peered down into his glass in surprise.
Jed must have spent a bundle on some mighty potent champagne.
* * *
JANE LEFT THE noise-filled, crowded kitchen and stepped out onto the Hitching Post’s back porch. It was late, after ten now, and a three-quarter moon hung overhead, drenching the ranch in silver light and dense shadows.
Somehow, she had managed to walk away calmly from Pete’s table earlier that evening. Somehow, she had managed to keep her mind on her job. But when she least expected it, her thoughts would slip back to their conversation.
She was an expert at reading faces, and in the few short seconds that he’d sat staring at her, she had seen every thought that had come into his head.
Or maybe she chose to believe she knew what he wanted—because she wanted it, too.
Across the yard, one of the shadows shifted, separating from the dark hulk of the barn. When she caught sight of the outline of broad shoulders and a flash of light-colored hair, she descended the porch steps and crossed the open space.
Just as she had a couple of hours ago, she moved toward Pete calmly. Also like last time, though, her heart beat erratically. And now her pulse raced, too. Her camera still hung from its strap. She reached up to hold it, partly to keep it from bouncing against her as she crossed the yard, mostly to give her something to do with her hands.
He was still wearing the long-sleeved cowboy shirt and dress pants he’d worn to dinner earlier. She could still smell the musky aftershave that had made her want to stand closer to him as they walked down the chapel aisle.
In the days since they had kissed, she had thought about that pleasure more often than she’d intended, had craved it more than she’d ever thought she would. Now she felt a sudden hope her longing would be satisfied.
“You’re out late,” she said.
“Just checking on Starlight.”
“Starlight in the moonlight?” she asked idiotically, stifling an urge to laugh.
“Starlight’s a horse.”
“Oh. I guess if I’d spent more time out here at the barn on my visits, I’d have known.”
“Well...” He shrugged. “She’s only been around for three years, so I’ll give you a break on that.”
She wished he would give her something else.
As if he’d taken a turn at reading thoughts, he moved closer and touched her sleeve. “Nice dress.”
“That sounds a few steps down from ‘pretty.’”
He laughed softly. “So, you did hear what Rachel and I said. Hoping to catch more compliments?”
“Maybe. Have I brought the right bait?”
“Maybe. Let’s try it and see.” He ran his
hand up her arm, then to her shoulder. With one finger, he stroked the skin left exposed at the neckline of her dress, setting off ripples of pleasure inside her. “Smooth,” he murmured.
He palmed the side of her neck, his long fingers tunneling into her hair, his thumb brushing her cheek. “Soft,” he said.
“Trying to win me over with compliments, cowboy?”
“Maybe.” He tilted her chin up and lowered his head, touched his lips all too briefly to hers. “Sweet,” he said against her mouth.
He slipped his hand to the back of her head and held her still as he kissed her, fully, completely, leaving behind the faintest flavor of good champagne. Leaving her tingling all over.
“Satisfying,” he said smugly.
If he only knew. “Is that another compliment for me,” she murmured, “or a commentary on your technique?”
Smiling, he shrugged. “I’ll let you be the judge of that.”
He slid his arm around her, pulling her close.
The bulky weight of her camera, trapped between them, filled her with frustration. She wanted to get closer, to feel the heat from his body against hers.
He froze, stared at her for a long moment, then took a step back. He let her go, and the warmth of his arm gave way to a shot of cold reality.
He looked down at the camera. “Never leave home without it?”
She attempted a laugh. “It goes where I go. France. Argentina. South Africa.”
“And little ol’ Cowboy Creek.”
Little being the key word, his expression seemed to say. He was right. She was grateful for the reminder. Cowboy Creek was not where she belonged, and this small-town rancher was not the guy for her.
Biting her tongue, she took a step back, too, and resettled the camera against her.
“Raising your shield again?” he asked.
“Excuse me?”
“The camera.” He gestured toward it. “I saw you with it tonight. I see you when we’re together at the hotel. You use that camera as a way to protect yourself. You use all your high-tech toys to keep you from getting involved with folks.”
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