“How’s the black-walnut soup?” he asked.
“Delicious. You sure you don’t want some?”
“No, thanks.”
“Then have another chocolate. I found it under the pillow.” She unwrapped the foil and fed him the small square.
He took her wrist, kissed her palm and closed her fingers into a fist.
“What was that for?”
“Just felt like it.” He wasn’t about to volunteer anything so sappy as It’s something for you to remember me by when you leave. But he thought it. The look on her face made him wonder if she’d caught on.
“I should get dressed,” she said. “I need...”
“I need, too.” He skimmed his hand up her flat, bare belly and leaned over to kiss her ice-cream-cooled mouth. She rose to dress again and he lay watching, hoping for the pleasure of taking those clothes off her again. He could get used to this.
And that was just the problem.
He couldn’t get used to this.
Jane took a seat on one of the stools at the breakfast counter, then pushed aside the bag from the ice cream Pete had used to seduce her. Not that she had needed much of a bribe.
Walking away from that man—that hot, naked, oh-so-touchable man—was the hardest thing she had ever done. She shouldn’t have let him sway her, yet after her certainty that last night would be their only time together, tonight had seemed a gift.
At last, she turned back to him. He had dressed again and stood fastening the button on his jeans.
“Pete, we have to talk.”
He sighed. “I know we do. That was the plan yesterday, but things got out of hand.” He came to stand on the other side of the breakfast counter. “I want to talk to you about Marina.”
She held her breath. She had to talk to him about his ex-wife, too—no matter how much she wished she could forget all about the woman.
She had hoped to help a little girl who missed her mother, had intended to help Pete understand his daughter’s feelings. She hadn’t expected to hear the story of Pete’s marriage and divorce.
And she definitely didn’t want to hear the pain in his voice.
Did he still hurt that much from what his ex-wife had done years ago? Or did he still feel that pain because he hadn’t stopped caring about the woman he’d once married?
“I know you’re not one for kids,” he said, “so this might be too much information, but you need to know what I was dealing with when it came to my ex.” He half turned to rest his hip against the counter.
She couldn’t see his eyes now, only part of his profile, the strong line of his jaw, the tension-revealing tic of muscle marring the flat plane of his cheek.
“When Marina first left, Sharon and I got Eric through the worst of it. By the time she dropped in for a visit, I think he’d forgotten her. No, I prayed he’d forgotten.” She had to strain to hear his voice. “Marina didn’t have much interest at all in seeing him. As for Rachel...” His jaw softened with his small smile. “You know my daughter. She’s always been a hard one to avoid.”
He stayed silent for a few moments. She could see a vein in his neck pulsing. He clenched his hands as he knotted his fingers together. Finally, he sighed. “It was hard for her to accept that her mama was here for her one day, then gone the next.”
She reached across the counter to squeeze his arm. He didn’t look up, didn’t acknowledge her touch, but his fingers relaxed slightly.
“That’s about what Marina’s visits added up to,” he continued. “She’d breeze through town, stay as short a time as she could and leave again.”
“Why did she bother coming back?”
“Beats me. The visits got more and more erratic, and every time she left, Rachel got more and more upset.” He shook his head. “When Marina came to town, she made a big splash, brought presents for Rachel and Eric, threw cash around town like it was play money from a kid’s game.”
He moved to stand by the suite’s small sink, bracing his hands on the edge, keeping his back turned to her. “Marina had money, fame, trips to Paris for her fashion shows, a big house in California. All things she got from her new modeling career.”
“It must have been a strong lure.”
The look he shot her made her heart ache.
“Marina didn’t need much of a lure. That’s what she had always wanted. It was never anything that appealed to me. I don’t need the lifestyle, the fame, the money. And my kids don’t need any of that, either.” He shrugged and added simply, “We’re a family. We just need each other.”
Nervous tension made her stomach spasm. What was he going to think when he found out what she had done?
“After the divorce went through,” he said, “and Marina stopped coming to town at all, it was a blessing in disguise. Hell, it was an outright answer to prayer.” He turned to face her. “Now, you see why I’m not so keen on having my ex around?”
She swallowed hard. “I didn’t know.”
“I realize that. That’s why I’ve filled you in.”
Her heart sank. This very private man had opened up to her, had told her things he hadn’t shared even with her family. And now she had to confess.
“Pete, I’m sorry.”
“No harm done.”
“I’m afraid there might be.”
He frowned.
She forced herself not to look away. “I didn’t know anything about Marina, just about what Rachel said and how she seemed to feel. I only wanted to help her. And Eric. And you. I hope you believe that.”
He nodded. “Now drop the other shoe.”
She took a deep breath and admitted, “I’ve already contacted Marina.”
“You...?” He shook his head as if in denial. As if in disbelief at her stupidity. “You did what?”
“I got in touch with Marina. About being the spokesperson for the hotel. I haven’t heard a word back. And considering what you’ve told me, it’s probably unlikely she’ll agree to come here.”
He muttered a curse. “You contacted her—after I’d told you that idea wouldn’t work? After all I’d said about her, about how she disappointed the kids? What were you thinking?”
“I told you. I wanted to help.”
“Yeah? By going over my head. Interfering with my family. And doing the one thing that will hurt Rachel most. That might be your idea of help, but it sure as hell isn’t mine.”
Chapter Sixteen
Four days later, Jane followed her family into the Cowboy Creek Elementary School auditorium.
She hadn’t seen Pete since he had stormed out of the cabin Sunday night. She had seen Rachel when the little girl came in search of her, which was often.
“You have to be at my graduation, Jane,” Rachel had reminded her. “Don’t forget.”
“I won’t,” she promised. It was a promise she had kept, though now a small part of her regretted it. The look on Pete’s face when he’d seen her outside in the parking lot just now had left her numb.
Inside, her family had begun filing into a row of seats. At the front of the room, what sounded like three hundred children ran around behind the curtain-covered stage, while two harried voices rose in an attempt to regain order.
Jane spotted Miss Loring near the floor space blocked off for an orchestra pit. Students tuned their instruments, adding to the noise from behind the curtain.
When Miss Loring looked her way, Jane gave her a wave and a sympathetic smile. The teacher smiled back, as unruffled as Rachel had been during her walk down the aisle.
Thanks to the rehearsal. Thanks to her.
As she had told Pete, all she had wanted to do was help. She winced at the memory of his snapped response.
“Jane,” Jed called, “are you planning to join us?”
Sta
rtled, she turned to find her family had taken their seats. Sharon and Eric had joined the Garlands. Sugar Conway was there, too.
Pete was sitting one seat over from the aisle.
Jed beamed at her. “We left you a place at the end. So you could take all your pictures.”
“Thanks, Grandpa.” She slipped into the vacant space beside Pete. She could smell his aftershave, a subtle but potent mixture of musk and spice. When she settled back, his broad shoulder brushed hers, sending ripples of warmth to her elbow, reminding her of the way he’d touched her arms and her back and her neck, all exposed by her halter-top gown.
Stopping the memories right there, she clung to her camera, telling herself she needed to pay attention to what she was doing. The camera was a valuable piece of equipment, and if she dropped it, it would break.
The parallel made her wince again. Pete had already dropped her, and her heart felt broken.
Everyone around them was talking. He sat silent, staring ahead at the curtain-covered stage. Maybe from another audience member’s perspective, he would look like an anxious dad, but sitting this close beside him, she saw the telltale tic in his cheek.
It hurt to think she might have caused it.
Her only consolation was she’d never heard back from his wife.
She struggled to find something to say. The first question she could come up with stemmed from her own emotions. “Was Rachel nervous on the way into town?”
“No. She was busy telling us about the seating arrangements for tonight.”
“Tonight?” She looked at him. Had Rachel arranged for them to sit together?
“She wanted us to take places at the front of the room.”
As the curtains began to part, she settled back in her seat. Pete leaned forward slightly, probably eager to get his first look at his daughter. Or to move away from her.
Jane’s palms grew a little damp as she thought about Rachel’s big moment.
The curtains swung open. By some miracle, the teachers had gathered the students into three straight rows. Rachel, one of the shortest of them, stood in the center of the front row.
Once, she could only have imagined how Pete would have felt at this moment. Now she knew.
Rachel grinned at Jed and Pete and Jane.
Jane smiled back, her broken heart swelling with pride.
* * *
AS HE PARKED his truck outside SugarPie’s after his daughter’s graduation, Pete was still kicking himself.
For the past few days, he’d gotten Tyler to substitute for him on Jane’s excursions for her scenic videos. As he’d told Tyler, she didn’t need anyone to move scenery, and the other man could operate the truck just as well as he could.
Yesterday, Jed had come to the barn and casually mentioned Jane had finished her videos. He’d already known that through Tyler, but he was relieved Jed knew it, too. That let him off the hook for any more jobs as Jane’s assistant.
He would have to worry about Marina’s appearance when—and if—it happened. He’d heard nothing yet about her responding to Jane’s message, and if everything went as usual with his ex-wife, he wouldn’t have to deal with her at all.
“Daddy!” Rachel called from the backseat of the truck, bouncing as much as she could, considering she wore a snug seat belt. “Did you see me up on the stage?”
“I sure did, sweetheart.”
“Did Jane take my picture?”
“Yes, she did.” She—along with all the parents and grandparents in the audience—had taken quite a few.
He went around the truck to open Sharon’s door, which brought back the memory of Jane asking him about his manners. He hadn’t shown much politeness to her the last night they’d been together. Since then, he hadn’t seen her at all.
Until this evening.
He had spotted the ranch’s SUV pulling into the school parking lot, followed by Cole’s truck. Jed and Paz and Andi and her kids had all come to Rachel’s graduation. Even the newlyweds and Robbie had arrived home just in time.
When he’d seen Jane, his heart had sunk. Rachel didn’t need the memory of having the woman there on her special night, but with Jed’s entire family along, he couldn’t argue.
When Jed had asked him to leave the aisle seat open for Jane, he hadn’t protested.
And when she’d sat beside him, smelling of vanilla and spice, he’d nearly lost the control he’d fought so hard to hang on to.
Now he waved to the Garlands before ushering Sharon and the kids into the sandwich shop. Rachel’s squeal of pleasure when she saw all the balloons and streamers on one side of the room took his mind from Jane...for a little while.
“Well, here’s our graduate,” Sugar said. A solid, gray-haired woman, she had a surprisingly gentle Southern drawl. “Rachel, I believe you look just like a first-grade girl now.”
“I am a first-grade girl, Sugar—look!” Proudly, she displayed her diploma.
“Very nice. I’ll just take that and put it up on the cupboard here so you don’t get it dirty while you’re eating.”
The shop door opened again. “Jane!” Rachel waved. “Come here and sit by me! Please!”
“Rachel, maybe Jane would like to choose her own seat.”
“Oh, no, Daddy. I get to tell everybody where to sit because it’s my party. Just like the wedding.”
“I would say the girl’s got that right.” Jed beamed at her.
“I agree.” Jane took her designated seat at the largest of the round tables SugarPie’s had available.
The table wasn’t big enough to fit their group comfortably, but everyone agreed with Rachel that it was nice to sit together. Good thing they were all there only for dessert and drinks, or half the group could easily have worn supper in their laps.
By the time she had completed the arrangements to her satisfaction, Pete found himself wedged between Jane and Jed again, and again, he found his control slipping.
“’Scuse me.” Jed shifted his chair to allow Paz more room.
Pete did the same for Jed, which put him closer to Jane. He gave thanks they were at SugarPie’s. The kitchen always filled the bakery and sandwich shop with the aromas of cinnamon and spices. That helped distract him from the scent of Jane’s perfume.
He couldn’t do much about her nearness, though. As Jed shifted his chair again, Pete was forced to slide his over. His shoulder bumped Jane’s. It was the auditorium all over again.
“Sorry,” he said.
“It’s a tight squeeze, isn’t it?” she said coolly.
“Yeah. And there’s no way we can sit like sardines and not rub shoulders.” He rested against his seat and stretched his arm along the top of her chair. He would just have to eat his cake one-handed and as a temporary southpaw. “That better?”
“It’s fine.”
On Rachel’s other side, Sharon sat holding Eric, who strained forward, his arms held toward Jane.
“That means you have to hold him,” Rachel said.
“Sugar’s bringing a high chair,” Pete told her.
“But Eric wants to see Jane.”
“I don’t mind,” Jane said.
Pete rose to reach across the table for his son, then placed him in Jane’s lap. She was back to wearing her basic black, along with her silver jewelry. Eric immediately grabbed her waist-length rope necklace and tugged.
“Eric.” Pete reached for one of his fists.
“It’s only costume jewelry,” Jane said. “Don’t worry about it.”
Even as she spoke, his son made a grab for one of her dangling silver earrings. Jane gave a muffled grunt of pain.
Pete lunged, immobilizing Eric’s hand and then uncurling his fingers.
“Just take them off, please,” she said.
Even after al
l they had done together in the cabin, it felt oddly intimate to touch her earrings and slip their long hooks from her earlobes. He pocketed the pair and made a mental note to return them to her before they left SugarPie’s. “You’re going to be in for a real challenge when Layne serves the ice cream and cake.”
“Maybe I’ll skip it, then. I might want to wear my blue dress again soon.”
He registered the dig at him but didn’t acknowledge it.
The longer he watched Eric cling to Jane and listened to Rachel chat excitedly with her, the more his heart sank. The kids were too darned attached to her—literally, in Eric’s case.
“Jane, did you see my diploma already?” Rachel asked.
“Yes, and I got some pictures of you when Miss Loring handed it to you on the stage.”
“Can we give one to Miss Loring? Please? She’s going to miss me when I leave her class. She told me.”
“I’m sure she will miss you.”
“But I’m going to be a first-grader next year. Did you know that?”
“Yes, I did. You’ll have lots of fun in grade school, and you’ll learn a lot, too.”
“Good. One of these days, I have to count better past ten.”
“You’ll get there. I wasn’t good at math when I was in kindergarten, either.”
“Really?”
“Really. I’ll tell you a secret. I could never remember which came first, six or seven.”
“Wow. I can remember that. Maybe I will get better, like Daddy says.”
“Of course you will,” Pete assured her.
“You’re getting better already,” Sharon said.
After Sugar brought the high chair for Eric, there was a lull in the conversation, punctuated only by his son’s screech when Jane attempted to transfer him to his new seat.
As Pete reached over to uncurl Eric’s fingers from her necklace again, his own hands brushed Jane’s blouse. “Sorry,” he muttered.
This time, she didn’t respond to his apology, coolly or otherwise.
Finally, they had Eric detangled and deposited—just in the nick of time, as Layne had arrived with a tray filled with their dessert.
Pete spooned up a mouthful of ice cream. “Nice not to have soup for a change, isn’t it?”
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