One Night with His Wife

by Sara Daniel

  “So, if I go in the barn, will I find a bedroll and pillow in one of the stalls?”

  Not only had Luke shown up out of the blue, he teased her with sweet familiarity. The gentle banter combined with his evasion of her touch likely proved he was a figment of her imagination.

  Georgina, the mare waiting to be unsaddled, moseyed over and nuzzled her. Luke might be a mirage, but the horse, at least, was real. “No sleeping in the stalls. My boss doesn’t allow it.” Stroking the animal’s velvety nose, Rosalind smiled. “Tell me, Luke, did you come to my stable looking for a ride?” His eyebrows shot up, showcasing his beautiful brown eyes. Suddenly, the words she’d meant so innocently took on an inappropriate and intimate meaning. “On a horse, I mean.”

  Not that she wouldn’t love to straddle him and ride him, hard and wet. Cheeks burning, she tipped her hat over her eyes so he wouldn’t guess the need he inspired, the same need that kept her awake at night while the rest of the ranch slept.

  “No rides—of any kind. We need to finalize a couple of things before the divorce can go through.”

  “Oh.” The sucker punch landed dead center in her gut. She wrapped her arms around her stomach, trying not to double over with the pain. She was such a fool, assuming his presence meant they’d pick up where they’d left off, as if nothing had changed. He’d told her their marriage was over. He’d looked her in the eye and stated he no longer wanted to try to make a baby. He’d wanted her out of his life permanently.

  He hadn’t changed his mind.

  Georgina nudged her shoulder, and Rosalind buried her face in the mare’s neck, taking the support the sweet animal offered until she was steady enough to face Luke without collapsing. “Give me a few minutes to unsaddle the horses and get them settled. I think I have some free time before my next riders are scheduled. You can meet me on the other side of the stables.”

  As he meandered down the fence line, she hugged the mare again. Why the hell had Luke come to see her about the divorce? He’d never contacted her again after he’d walked out. His lawyers had chased her down. The military had chased her out. But he had never, ever, taken one step in her direction. If he had, he would have discovered she was the easiest thing he’d ever tried to catch.

  She kept her palm on Georgina’s neck and strode toward the stable. Rosalind could have simply clicked her tongue, and the horse would have followed her, but Rosalind needed the extra contact to fortify her for whatever Luke wanted to discuss.

  Inside the barn, she removed the tack and brushed her flanks then rewarded her with both an apple and a sugar cube before moving toward the entrance to the corral for the next mount.

  “You’re spoiling my horses,” her cousin and boss, Javier, teased, wagging a finger at her as he walked down the aisle between the stalls. Six feet away, he stopped, the smile lines on his deep-brown skin disappearing. “Whoa, Rosalind, I was joking. What’s the matter?”

  Apparently, her poker face sucked. She shook her head, not ready to talk but too much of an emotional mess to fake any semblance of normalcy.

  “Did one of the guests do something to you? Did something happen on the ride?” Javier expected employees to treat guests with utmost respect, but he also expected the guests to treat the employees and animals with respect in return.

  “No, the family this morning was an absolute joy. I expect they’ll make reservations for another ride tomorrow.”

  “But they left you with all the cleanup work.”

  Despite his indignation, she relaxed. Javier liked the guests to handle the chores that came with riding, part of his “working-ranch” concept, but she preferred to send the others on their way so she could, as he claimed, spoil her babies.

  “They weren’t ready for that part, and I like taking care of the horses on my own.”

  “So, why do you look like you’re going to fall apart? I haven’t seen you this shaken since the day you arrived.”

  Trust her cousin to get to the heart of the matter and refuse to let it go. She fidgeted with the brim of her hat then whistled out the corral entrance. Another horse would come so she could occupy her hands.

  “Luke showed up,” she admitted. “He wants to talk about the divorce.”

  “It’s not final yet?” Javier demanded.

  She shrugged and unbuckled the saddle of the new horse, heaving it off. “I don’t know. I guess not. I’m going to talk to him after I finish here.”

  He took the saddle from her hands before she could put it away and crossed the stable to hang it up. “I’ll finish with the horses. You take the afternoon off.”

  “I don’t need the whole afternoon.” Rosalind didn’t want it and couldn’t stand the thought of hashing out their breakup for hours. What could they haggle over? They had no kids, no property. The only thing she’d taken had been her wedding band.

  “Use the rest of the time to take care of yourself, Rosalind. You need it. Contact Madame Eve and pressure her to find you a date. I don’t know why she’s taken so long. I filled out the 1Night Stand application for you the week you arrived here. You have been checking your e-mail, right?” Returning to her side, he wrapped his arm around her in a comforting hug.

  For a moment, she savored the protection and care he offered, but she had to stand on her own. Javier had given her a reason to roll out of bed each morning with her dream job at his resort, but he couldn’t fix her personal life. She had no interest in keeping up with any electronic messages and less interest in the one-night stand fix he’d attempted to set up. She pulled away and turned.

  Luke stood across the stable, glowering at her. “Well, I see how you got a job here.”

  Chapter Three

  If Rosalind had stopped caring about Luke’s opinion, his knee-jerk conclusion would have been funny. “Yes, connections are valuable in any profession. But before you make assumptions, you might want to hear what the exact connection is.”

  “Or don’t, so you can act like an ass and embarrass yourself more,” Javier said, bunching his fists and drawing his lean wrangler’s body into a fighting stance.

  Rosalind rolled her eyes.

  Luke continued to glare.

  “I had to leave the base housing, since, of course, I didn’t qualify to stay there without you. My aunt let me move in with her while I figured out what to do.” She focused on Georgina leaning her head out of her stall, since the sympathy and regret softening Luke’s gaze threatened to derail her thoughts. “My aunt had been tracking down long-lost relatives for some big reunion. Long story short, Javier Alvarado and I are second cousins or something. He was gracious enough to offer me a job on his ranch based on my shoestring-relative qualifications.”

  “I offered it to you based on that, but you’d be cleaning toilets or sorting mail, not touching my horses or taking care of my guests if you hadn’t proven you had real qualifications,” Javier said.

  Before she could respond, he switched his attention to Luke. “Mr. Cox, I don’t know you from shit, and I don’t care to become acquainted with anyone who treats Rosalind the way you did. However, if you hurt her again, you’ll get to know me in an extremely unpleasant way. Understand?”

  Luke continued to stand implacably, his gaze hard again.

  She had no desire to instigate a stable brawl, especially between two stubborn people she cared too much for. Javier had the height advantage and the agility from training horses every day, but Luke had more muscle mass, along with his military training. She strode toward her estranged husband, calling over her shoulder to Javier, “We’re going to Mac’s to talk over a glass of lemonade.” She gripped Luke’s sculpted forearm. “Come on.”

  He didn’t move, instead staring down at his arm like she’d violated his personal space by daring to lay a hand on him. And, of course, he was right. She had no right to touch him.

  But his distaste didn’t prevent heat from seeping up her arm. Her body hadn’t gotten the message she could no longer claim him. Unfortunately, he seemed intent on re
iterating the facts until she was forced to accept he no longer wanted her.

  Rosalind touched him without hesitation, as if the expression were completely natural and not something that caused his world to stop and then crash down around him. Sucking in a breath, he tried to control his cock, which had no concept of “down.” Rosalind’s cousin continued to glare at him, looking like he wanted to throw a punch and could probably land a decent one.

  Luke might let the guy get in a couple of freebie swings, but he would absolutely not reopen the door on the irrational jealousy that had spurted through him when he’d first seen Rosalind hugging the guy. Whether she hooked up with a coworker or embraced a relative, he’d given up his claim on her. He’d done it so she could move on and find a guy who could give her the things she needed.

  Removing her hand from his flesh, she folded her arms across her chest, pushing her breasts against the soft fabric of the red Western shirt embroidered with her name and the resort’s logo. A horse poked its muzzle over a stall door a few paces away and snorted. The stiffness melted from her posture, and Rosalind stepped toward the animal, patting its nose and murmuring nonsense. Then, without glancing at Luke, she marched out of the stable.

  If she’d looked back, she would have caught him ogling her ass. Worse, she would have noticed his limp hadn’t improved and had probably even worsened. But at least he hadn’t given in to using the cane yet.

  With him following a couple of paces behind, she strode down a wide concrete path toward a wooden, ranch house-style building. A rough-hewn sign in front had been etched with the words, Mac’s Bar. Large rocking chairs on the front porch served as outdoor seating.

  Bypassing them, she opened the door, holding it for him. He didn’t need anyone to do so, but no doubt she remembered those first weeks out of the hospital when he had needed assistance with everything. He grasped the edge of the door and motioned her in first.

  She waved to the burly lumberjack of a man behind the bar.

  “Rosalind.” His crinkled face lit up, and he shuffled out from behind the counter toward her. “How did I get so lucky to have you visit me this early in the day?”

  “Hey, Mac.” She hugged him and kissed his cheek. “I’m the lucky one to get the afternoon off to spend with you, and you can tell Carmela I said so.”

  He chuckled and tapped the brim of her hat. “Oh, you better believe I will, and I’ll tell her you gave me a lip-smackin’ kiss to boot. What can I get for you, darling?”

  “Lemonade, please. And whatever Luke wants, as well.” She tipped her head in his direction, including him in their cozy reunion.

  “Whiskey. Neat.” The upcoming conversation definitely warranted a drink to get through.

  “Bring an extra lemonade for Luke too. No one can step in here without giving your homemade specialty a try,” Rosalind said.

  “Do you want a whiskey for yourself?” he asked her.

  “Absolutely not.” She patted the bartender’s arm. “I can’t afford to have anything cloud my judgment. Excuse me. I need to wash my hands before I sit down.”

  Luke found himself in the crosshairs of a steely glare. Mac may not have said a word, but he’d delivered the same message Javier had sent. Rosalind’s friends were lining up for a turn at ripping him apart, not exactly the way Luke had planned for the day to go when he’d boarded the plane.

  With her out of the room, he took his time arranging his leg into a comfortable position under the table. As the bartender brought their drinks, she emerged from the bathroom, the edges of her hair damp around her face. She set her hat on an empty chair, and Mac squeezed her shoulder. Before marching away, he shot Luke another deadly scowl.

  Rosalind settled onto the empty chair across from him. “So, uh—” She unwrapped a straw and swirled it in her lemonade. “What things need to be finalized? I thought I’d signed everything the lawyers needed.”

  He clenched his jaws. Her rushing to finish the last of the business tying them together shouldn’t have ticked him off, but it did. “I thought so, too. The judge was supposed to rubber-stamp it this morning. Unfortunately, the identity theft app I’d been working on that just seemed to eat our money—”

  “And Alex’s money,” she added.

  “Yeah.” Of course, she knew. He didn’t have to explain the past to her. She’d been by his side the whole time, supporting him every second until he’d turned his back on her. “Well, it suddenly took off. We stopped bleeding money, and it started pouring in instead. The company’s worth more than I ever dreamed, way more than when you signed all those papers that gave me the company and its debt without giving you anything in return.”

  She shook her head, her braid whipping with the ferocity of the movement. “I don’t want your money, Luke. I never wanted your money.”

  Never having doubted the assertion, he lifted his whiskey.

  “Your baby, yes, but not your money,” she said, her solemn gaze boring into him.

  He tossed back the liquor. If only the path burning down his throat would make him forget his dreams of having a baby with her. “Without a lawyer representing your interests, the judge believed you were getting ripped off with the settlement we’d agreed on. The truth is, you would have gotten ripped off by that agreement, so I’m glad we have a chance to make it fair.”

  Once again, her braid whipped back and forth with her emphatic denial. “The company is yours and Alex’s. I didn’t do anything except cook dinner and give you space to work. I came into our marriage with nothing, and I left with nothing, so I came out even.”

  The whiskey burned in his gut without taking the edge off his nerves. He slapped the empty glass on the table. “You wasted ten years of your life with me. I don’t call that even.”

  “I don’t call it a waste,” she shot back. “If we’d had a kid, then, yes, I’d take your money and put it in an account for his or her future, but that never happened. I don’t need or want anything for myself.”

  He closed his eyes. “You should be thankful we don’t have a kid.”

  “We had a deal, Luke. When you retired from the Marines, we’d start a family.”

  “I got my leg blown off,” he shouted, opening his eyes to glare at her, hating the sorrow in her voice and himself for not being able to deliver on her dream. “We never took that scenario into account.”

  She shoved her drink away. “Your leg is not the same piece of anatomy as your dick. Maybe you hadn’t noticed because you’ve been too busy being a dick.”

  Yes, yell at me. Take your anger out on me. He wanted her hate and resentment, not her sorrow and disappointment. Luke reached for the extra lemonade and slammed back half of it before saying, “You’re right. I was a dick. I don’t deserve you. I never did. I want you to have the chance to find someone better than me, to get something better from him than what you got from our relationship.”

  “Well, money won’t make that happen.” She slumped her shoulders, her voice little more than a whisper. “You don’t have to pay me to go away, Luke. I’ll just go.”

  The lemonade turned sour in his stomach, and he pushed aside the half-empty glass. Every divorce he’d witnessed from the sidelines or heard tales of later, the couple had fought over money, with each party claiming as much of the pie as he or she could get away with. But Rosalind offered him everything. He hated the possibility that someone down the road might take advantage of her generosity. She needed to look out for herself first, not him.

  Perhaps, he could make her do so by convincing her to hate him and then take his money in revenge. “Look, I didn’t come here with the intention of tracking you down.”

  Her soulful brown eyes widened, and she lifted her glass again. “You just happened to be wandering around Montana, and here I was?”

  “I signed up for a blind-date one-night stand at this resort, and I ran into you by accident while I was waiting for my date to arrive. But I’m sitting with you now because I really don’t want to be married to you when I sle
ep with someone else tonight.”

  Chapter Four

  The drink slipped through Rosalind’s fingers. Pale-yellow liquid and ice cubes spilled down her shirt before the heavy glass shattered on the floor.

  Ever a man of action, Luke shoved away from the table and called to Mac. But she remained frozen, unable to care about the drama of the spill. She’d been keeping her shit together over Luke seeking her out to finalize their divorce. But the admission that he wanted to have sex with someone else paralyzed her. It destroyed her.

  He’d moved beyond their relationship, beyond fixating on ending it. He was ready to start a new chapter of his life. But she couldn’t move on. Body, heart and soul, she’d loved him and still did. A divorce wouldn’t change her feelings, and neither would seeing him with another woman. But it sure as hell would hurt.

  From the direction of the bar, a towel flew toward them. Stretching upward, Luke snagged it from the air with quick reflexes and a gorgeous display of biceps and washboard abs. “Here. Use this to dry your shirt.” He held it toward her.

  After fumbling for it, she pressed it to her chest. His hand still tangled in the cloth ended up covering her breast, his palm rubbing her beaded nipple.

  He hissed and squeezed his eyes closed. But instead of yanking his hand away, he became immobile, warming her through the wet fabric until the reaction of her breast to the cold morphed to one of desire. Desire he no longer returned.

  Breaking contact, she pushed back her chair, her cowboy boots crunching on the broken glass. Broom and dust pan in hand, Mac joined her, and she reached to take the equipment from him. “I made the mess. I’ll clean it.”

  “I’ll take care of it,” he said. “You worry about changing your shirt.”