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Unlucky in Love

Page 11

by Maggie McGinnis


  “Absolutely.”

  “Okay, go ahead. Finish.”

  She laughed. “But first you’re supposed to let her argue at least once.”

  “Um, okay, though I’m lost. Argue. Then finish. Right?”

  She smiled. “Never mind.”

  He nodded, finding it amusing that even though he had no idea what they were talking about at this point, he was still enjoying the conversation. Then she cleared her throat, motioning with her hand, and he smiled.

  “Wait. This is a test, isn’t it? You said never mind again.”

  She smiled in encouragement, but didn’t speak. He rolled his eyes. “Finish your thought, woman. I insist. Better?”

  Lexi laughed out loud then, and it was the first time he’d heard her actually really laugh, from the bottom of her stomach. Then she pulled her arms across her middle and took a deep breath, letting her head fall back against the tree.

  His first thought as he saw the cascading auburn waves was that he was dying to run his hands through her hair.

  His second thought was that he hoped there was no pine pitch running down that tree trunk, or she was going to be dealing with one sticky, snarled mess later.

  “I was talking about models. My sister told me I should try to get one of the cowboys here to pose so I could draw him. I’m trying to get better at portraits. That’s all.” Lexi waved off the words like they were ridiculous. “She’s seen the website, so, you know—”

  “Ah.” He nodded. “And have you approached any of the guys about this?” He could name at least three of them who’d gladly pose in the stable with no shirts, despite the fact that any cowboy worth his salt wouldn’t get within ten yards of hay or livestock without clothing on.

  “Not yet, no.”

  “Need some names?”

  She wrinkled her nose. “I was kind of wondering—maybe—if you’d do it?”

  “For the sake of art? Or for your summer bucket list that you still haven’t admitted you have?”

  “There’s no list.” She laughed again, but he sensed her pulling back a tiny smidge. He’d still bet that ten bucks that she had a list.

  “Can’t say I’ve ever pictured myself as a model, Lex. And though I appreciate the invitation, I’m not so big on taking my clothes off for art.”

  “No clothes!” Her face immediately flushed. “I mean, lots of clothes! Oh, God.” She buried her face in her hands. “Please never mind. Seriously. I never asked.”

  “Is this when I’m supposed to argue? You said never mind again.” He couldn’t keep the smile from sneaking across his face.

  “No. No argument necessary.”

  “How would you draw me, Lexi? Just out of curiosity, since this is a new one on me. Can’t say I’ve ever been asked.”

  She looked straight at him then, and he felt his throat tighten as her eyes did a slow assessment of his face, then traveled slowly down his neck, his chest, right to his boots.

  “I would draw you just like…this.” She framed her hands like she was looking through a camera lens. “With your hat and your half-smile…and your clothes.”

  “Oh-h.” He pretended to ponder. “But does that mean you’d have to ask the other guys to do the half-naked model thing?”

  “No!” she whacked him with the pad. “I don’t draw half-naked men. Promise.”

  “All right,” he said, an idea hitting him. “I’ll make you a deal.”

  “No paragliding.”

  He laughed. “No paragliding. I’ll sit here quietly for the next half-hour and let you draw, if you’ll let me take you out to dinner tonight.”

  “Out? Like, in town?”

  “Yes. Like, at a restaurant, just the two of us—no gaggle of guests at the table.”

  “Oh.” He saw her swallow, like she wasn’t at all sure what to answer. But what did he expect? Here he was, asking her out, while knowing full well she was still carrying a blazing torch for her idiot ex. She wasn’t exactly likely to leap into his arms with a resounding yes.

  “Just dinner,” he clarified. “Just friends. Ma’s not cooking tonight because there aren’t any guests onsite, so we’re on our own, anyway. Figured it’d be better than the peanut butter sandwich I would normally have, and I don’t know if you even have any food in your cabin.”

  “Granola bars and raisins.” She wrinkled her nose again. “That’s it.”

  “Then this is a good deal, right?” He smiled, wishing he didn’t want so much for her to stop thinking about it and just be able to say yes.

  She finally nodded, smiling as she turned to a fresh page in her pad. “Okay, but I get forty-five minutes of posing first.”

  He nodded, taking the win for what it was, and as he sat there looking out at the forest, hearing the tiny scritches of her charcoal against the paper, feeling her eyes trace the shape of his hat, his forehead, his mouth, he felt an intimacy he’d never before experienced—with anyone.

  Four weeks, he told himself. Don’t get involved.

  But as he snuck a peek at her, earning a finger snap that had him turning back around with a smile, he knew his own advice was as empty as one of his old bedrooms.

  Chapter 12

  “They don’t have lobster here, but they do have excellent crab legs, if you like those.” Gunnar smiled over the menus at La Petite Fleur, an adorable little restaurant tucked just down the street from Jenny’s bakery. The hostess had greeted him by name when they’d walked in, and Lexi hadn’t missed her flirtatious tone as she’d seated them.

  She wasn’t at all sure what to make of the jealous spark that had ignited as the brunette had made sure to brush her fingers against Gunnar’s when she’d handed him his napkin.

  “Shouldn’t I have steak? I mean, when in Rome, and all that?”

  “Do you like steak? Or would you be ordering it because it seems like the right thing to do?”

  Lexi heard an undertone in his question, and it set off a tiny alarm bell in her gut. Was the man convinced her every move was governed by what other people would think?

  She closed the menu. “I actually love steak. Always have. And as a coastal girl, I’ve gotta tell you, I’m not sure I’d trust the seafood this far inland.”

  He eyed her over his menu. “Because the chances of spoilage as they transport it by wagon train are pretty high?”

  “It’s all I’m saying.” She shrugged, smiling. “Never trust seafood in a landlocked state.”

  “Fine. I’ll have the steak, too. And just so you know, the steamed asparagus here is excellent.” Lexi couldn’t keep a grimace from enveloping her face at the mention of her least favorite vegetable, and he laughed. “Or salad. They make a nice, fresh salad, as well.”

  She nodded. “There’s really no excuse for a veggie that looks that funny and tastes that horrible.”

  “Remind me never to cook it for you, then,” he said, and both of them froze momentarily as the words landed between them. She swallowed. He’d said it so casually, like maybe this was the first of many dates he thought they’d have. Like maybe he could see himself cooking for her…in his cabin…alone.

  She swallowed again, a piece of hot bread suddenly caught in her throat. She grabbed for her water glass, taking a huge gulp to cover her sudden—what? Discomfort? No. The idea of him cooking for her was…sweet. Nice. Intimate.

  Hot.

  “See—see that you don’t,” she finally said, trying to smile through the sudden, quaking possibility waking up every nerve ending in her traitorous body.

  Oh, who was she kidding?

  Those damn nerve endings had been awake ever since he’d picked her up at the airport.

  An hour later, they strolled up Main Street, each holding a sugar cone piled high with ice cream from Scoop-de-Loop, and Lexi sighed happily. The steak had been delicious, the ice cream was crazy good, and Gunnar was singularly the best dinner date she’d had in—well, forever.

  He’d ordered a craft beer sampler, and as they’d tasted down the line of glas
ses, they’d talked about their favorite music, dream getaways, and first cars. They’d talked about overrated movies, underrated music groups, and TV shows they hated. They’d talked about the perfect beer, the perfect steak, and the book they both remembered most from high school.

  They’d talked so much that at one point, they’d laughed because both of their steaks had gone untouched for so long that they’d asked the server to reheat them.

  As their knees had brushed together, and then their hands when they’d both reached for the pepper, she’d felt the sort of zings she didn’t remember ever feeling with Tristan. As Gunnar had listened to her all through dinner—not once looking bored—she’d known she hadn’t felt that with Tristan. Not for a long time, anyway.

  And now, walking along with Gunnar beside the park, listening to a country band warm up for an evening concert, she felt like maybe, just maybe, she was being inordinately stupid hanging on so tightly to the thought of getting Tristan back.

  Gunnar made her feel funny, interesting, even sexy.

  Tristan had made her feel those things early on, but truly, in the past six months, the overriding thing he’d made her feel was that she was…lacking.

  Just then, a teenager on a bike came barreling down the sidewalk, and before Lexi could jump out of the way, Gunnar pulled her to his side, sliding his arm around her. Once the biker had passed, he could easily have let her go, but instead, he gave her a little squeeze and kept his arm around her.

  “In case more rogue bikers come along,” he explained. “Dangerous streets here in Carefree.” Then he winked down at her. “Want to stay and watch a little bit of the concert?”

  Lexi looked around, watching families spread blankets on the grass while kids ran around dodging picnic baskets and light poles. Once again, the image of a pristine little 1950s town struck her, and in a sense, it felt like Carefree was stuck in an earlier time—a simpler time.

  “Definitely. Let’s stay.” Lexi smiled up at him, and before she had time to realize he was going to do it, he leaned down and kissed her. It was brief—almost fleeting, like he hadn’t even thought twice, just did this on dates, even if they weren’t actually dates—but the touch of his lips on hers threatened to buckle her knees and send her right to the grass.

  “There. Now maybe people will stop looking.” He grinned. “Sorry. But there are way too many guys eyeing you, and I know you’re still hung up on The Idiot, and I know you’re not staying, and I know it’s all a bad idea, all the way around, to kiss you…but for tonight, you’re with me, and I’m going to make the most of it.”

  “Oh.” She blinked, trying to run the words through her mind a bit more slowly.

  He laughed then, squeezing her again. “Has anyone ever told you that you’re incredibly easy to fluster?”

  She nodded slowly. “Probably.”

  “How about this? Has anyone ever told you that when you wear a blue sundress and put your hair up like this”—he ran gentle fingers around her earlobe—“that it makes a man just want to take you to a dark corner and kiss you silly?”

  “Um, no.” Lexi felt her pulse thwacking away in her throat, and she hoped desperately that he couldn’t see it.

  His hand slowly skated down her neck, then slid under her hair. “Well, it does. And somebody should have told you by now.” He smiled. “But I’m kind of glad I got to be the first one to do so.”

  With his other hand, he pulled her closer, and she could feel the button of his jeans against her stomach. She swallowed carefully, looking up into his eyes, dying for him to kiss her again.

  And just as he did—just as his lips met hers in a touch full of heat and promise—she jumped two feet backward as she felt her purse vibrate.

  “Oh! God!” She laughed. “Sorry. My phone—it vib—never mind. Sorry.”

  Oh, how mortifying. She’d been about to indulge in the best kiss in history—she totally knew it was going to be—and her stupid phone had scared the daylights out of her before they got even two seconds into it.

  “Do you need to check it?” Gunnar slid his hands to her waist, forehead on hers.

  “No,” she answered automatically, but then paused. What if it was Katie? What if something was wrong with Mom?

  “Check it. Then you’ll know for sure.” He pulled back.

  She sighed. “All right. I’m so sorry.” She pulled her phone out of her purse, checking the screen.

  And then she put her hand to her mouth, eyes wide.

  “What’s the matter?” Gunnar looked concerned. “Who is it?”

  Lexi closed her eyes. Of all times. After all this time.

  “It’s…Tristan.”

  —

  “Deep breath in. Good.” Jess’s soothing voice echoed softly on the yoga studio’s walls the next morning. “Envision yourself taking a soft ribbon, tying up all of your stress, and tossing it away on the next breath. Now, breathe out.”

  Lexi opened one eye, wondering if anyone else was having any luck with their imaginary ribbons. To her consternation, the other five women in the studio looked all radiant and blissful, while she felt like a sputtering lawn mower engine that was about to blow a gasket.

  She closed her eye again. She could do this. She could wrap herself in the soft music, the balsam candles, and the little breeze that played through the open windows. She could focus on the birds outside, the horses down in the pasture, the sound of her own breathing. In, out, in, out. How complicated could it be?

  Too complicated, apparently. She stifled a growl as she gave up and opened her eyes.

  Up front, Jess raised her eyebrows, but continued her soft chant, helping everybody else find their centers and breathe deeply and tie their flipping ribbons.

  Lexi flopped back on her mat, pulling up her knees. As she stared at the ceiling, she mentally reviewed Tristan’s text for the hundredth time…because its three words were oh-so-complicated, yes.

  Lookin’ good, hon, it had said, and she still didn’t know what to make of it. The lookin’ good part was totally throwaway—something he’d say to anybody. But the hon part was the thing that had thrown her as she’d stood there last night, still feeling the touch of Gunnar’s lips on hers.

  What did it mean that Tristan had used his favorite pet name for her? Anything? Was it, too, just a throwaway? Just a word he’d thrown on there, not even thinking about it?

  Probably.

  But what if it wasn’t? What if, as he’d finally answered one of her texts, he’d purposely thrown out a pet name to test the waters? What if he was having regrets? What if he was one, two, three steps from picking up his phone to actually call her and say he’d made a huge mistake?

  She hadn’t replied to his text when it had arrived, out of respect for Gunnar, but her phone had burned an absolute hole in the side of her purse as they’d finished their ice cream, then run for the truck when fat raindrops had started pelting them. The ride home had been silent except for the sound of the wipers, and her phone had felt like it sat between them, weighing a hundred pounds. When he’d walked her to her cabin, he’d kept his hands firmly in his pockets. When he’d said good night, there had been no hint of the man who’d kissed her so sweetly just an hour before.

  And when she’d lain in her bed at midnight, she’d felt a loneliness she hadn’t expected—one that had nothing at all to do with Tristan.

  She closed her eyes, suddenly succumbing to her sleepless night, Jess’s voice, and the warm sun slanting through the studio windows, and the next thing she heard was Jess giggling softly.

  “Think I should take up hypnosis, sleeping beauty?”

  Lexi opened her eyes, then blinked hard as her contact wobbled. Had she fallen asleep? Right in the middle of Jess’s class?

  “Omigod. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to—”

  “It’s okay.” Jess smiled, putting a hand on her arm. “Obviously you were exhausted.”

  Lexi sat up. “Everybody’s gone.” Good grief. How long had she been asleep?


  “They just left. You were only out for a few minutes.” Jess nonchalantly rolled up her mat. “Any special reason you couldn’t sleep last night?”

  “Just—one of those nights, I guess.” Lexi avoided her eyes as she rolled up her own mat.

  “Did you and Gunnar have fun in town?”

  Her head snapped up. “How did you—”

  Jess laughed. “Hayley saw you guys. Said I would have used the word adorable to describe you.”

  “Oh, boy.”

  Lexi couldn’t help but wonder what she’d seen…because if she’d seen Gunnar kiss her…

  “She said to tell you that if you wonder if she saw you guys kissing by the maple tree in the park, no. She saw nothing.”

  “Oh, no.” Lexi cursed her cheeks, which she knew were going scarlet.

  “And she said your secret’s safe with her, but she doesn’t know how trustworthy Daniel is with information as juicy as this.”

  “My secret’s safe, and yet less than twelve hours later, you already know?” Lexi shook her head, but she couldn’t help but smile as she pictured Hayley calling Jess from the other side of the park. “I think Hayley’s definition of secret might need a little tweaking.”

  Jess shrugged as she pulled two bottled waters from a fridge under her sales counter and handed one to Lexi. “We’re all family. Hard to keep secrets in a town this small, especially when you’re never more than a hundred yards from somebody you’re related to.”

  “So…not that I’m admitting or denying anything, did Hayley sound…glad that we were together? Or like she wanted this New England cowgirl-poser to get her paws off the cowboy and go home?”

  Jess laughed. “Oh, sweetie, you’re not a poser. The five women who just left to go do shots before lunch? Then get on our horses? Those are the posers. You’re just…you.”

  Lexi sighed, knowing Jess had absolutely no way of knowing how that phrase cut her right to the bone.

  “Thanks. I think.”

  “So.” Jess bounced her eyebrows. “I have a feeling you’re too polite, and possibly too shy, to ask me about Gunnar—even though you might be absolutely dying to—but I’m happy to tell you what I know, if you want me to.”

 

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