Lucas sat back again. As much as he wanted to argue, he couldn’t blame them. He had lived his life on the frivolous side. Always the one to keep things light, fun. And the situation with Emmaline didn’t help things either. He worked hard, but didn’t have the gene that Wes did in terms of responsibility. Wes ran the St. Claire world, and most likely a few beyond that.
“I appreciate that, Wes. I do. But you don’t need to this time. Vanessa is the right one for me.”
Lucas stood, beyond ready to be done with this conversation.
“Do you love her?”
His brother’s question knocked him back into his chair.
“Of course.” It was a knee-jerk response, but what had knocked him back was the fact that Erin’s face flashed through his mind at Wes’s question, not Vanessa’s.
Feeling as if he’d just walked off a roller coaster, he tried to cover the emotion that swirled through him with a joke. His typical MO when rattled. “You’ve never been one to say the ‘L’ word though. You getting all mushy on us in your old age?”
Wes frowned. “You’re hilarious.”
“Now that you’ve fallen in love, you want the same for everyone else. Yep. I can see little hearts floating above your head. That’s precious.”
Wes shook his head and fought back a laugh, but the laugh won. “Get out of here. We’re done.”
“What? Our session is over, Oprah?” Lucas crossed his right ankle on his left knee and put a finger to his chin as if thinking hard about something. “How about we dive deeper. Tell us, Wesley, is it tough for you to admit how much you love Noelle?”
He had his brother laughing pretty hard now. Lucas made a mental note to thank Noelle – again – for bringing out this side to his brother. It had always been there, but buried deep. Her presence had brought it to the surface. And it looked damned good on him.
“Go, you idiot. I have work to do.” Wes turned his computer back to face him and waved Lucas away with his other hand.
Lucas tapped Wes’s desk like it was a drum then turned and left. His work was done. He’d taken a heavy subject and made it end with laughter, all seriousness forgotten. As he grabbed his keys and headed for his truck, however, the good feelings faded. Wes wasn’t questioning so much Lucas’s decision to marry, but rather his choice in women. But why?
Lucas had met Vanessa’s father. Her parents had divorced when she was young and her mother now lived in Florida with her fourth husband. Vanessa and her father ran their business. He was a nice man. Hard worker. Someone Lucas could see Wes getting along well with. So why was Wes’s spidey sense off about her? Whatever issues Lucas had with Wes’s over-interest in his life, he trusted his brother’s gut. He took a deep breath in and let it out. Was it his own judgment he couldn’t trust?
He climbed in his truck and revved the engine. No. He was right about Vanessa. And he’d prove to his family this was the path for him. Maybe Wes had just gotten overly suspicious of the women who moved in their world because most of them were after his money. That was probably another reason Noelle was so appealing to him. The woman still shopped mall sales, for heaven’s sake. There wasn’t a bone in her body that had gone after Wes for his money. That was clear.
Lucas guided his truck down the drive. Between the wedding and his family and everything else, he needed time to think. An afternoon working outside at Tanner Ranch was the perfect way to clear his head.
*
Erin and Tucker stood and stared at the stacks of paint cans and equipment. Cynthia had called that morning to say that Vanessa had ordered everything needed to paint the barn and it would be delivered by noon.
Tucker picked up a can and read the label. “This is some hoity-toity stuff you’ve got here, Miss Erin.”
Erin asked him over and over to simply call her Erin, but the kid insisted on “Miss Erin.” She was able to appreciate his attempt at being respectful, but it made her feel old.
She picked up a can herself. Cynthia had said Vanessa was worried about painting the barn in cold temperatures so she’d researched and ordered the best paint possible, making sure it would be “absolutely perfect” for her big day.
Erin rolled her eyes.
“I’ve painted barns before. And it’s all worked out.” Tucker shrugged and set the can down on the ground. “Not sure why anyone would spend all that money on fancy-pants paint when lots of other kinds will do.”
Erin’s thoughts exactly. She set the can down as well and joined Tucker who now stared down at a machine that looked more like a small tractor than anything used for painting. Cynthia had emailed Erin instructions on how to use it.
“What the heck is this thing for?” Tucker put his hands on his hips and shook his head. At first, Erin had felt bad that he’d been roped into helping during Thanksgiving vacation, but unable to find anyone to step up on a holiday weekend to do the job, Cynthia was grasping at straws. But he needed the money and was being paid a hefty sum. So was she, but as she looked from Tucker to the machine again, she questioned her sanity.
The sound of a truck coming up the drive caused them to turn their attention away from the monstrosity before them to the sight of Lucas’s black truck. Erin’s heart sped up a bit, her mouth curving into a smile at the thought of seeing him again.
Thanksgiving had been wonderful. With puppet shows and more food than one could imagine eating, along with ending the day with a poker game that got rowdy, mainly because the St. Claire siblings had a competitive streak, Erin had gone home full and happy.
At first, she’d bristled at Mr. St. Claire’s suggestion that Lucas come to help, but decided a day with him on the ranch again would be the perfect way to spend the holiday weekend.
He parked his truck and hopped out. In old jeans that were worn down in all the right places, dingy work boots, and a long-sleeved Henley that showed he didn’t sit in a chair all day but rather worked out a decent amount—he was eye candy of the finest kind. At least to Erin.
She imagined the high society women he was used to dating, not unlike his fiancée, preferred him in suits and no five o’clock shadow. Well, they weren’t there at that moment and Erin was, so she was going to soak in the Lucas St. Claire she knew as much as possible.
He opened the tailgate to his truck and pulled out paint supplies. Normal ones. Ones Erin had seen before. Rollers, paint trays. That sort of thing. He wandered over to them and looked down at the paint cans and machine she and Tucker had been scratching their heads over.
“What the hell is that?”
Erin laughed. Hard. As in, she had to put her hands on her knees to hold herself up. This. This was the Lucas she knew and loved. Okay. The Lucas she could never have, but still. She refused to let that fact ruin the day. He was here. With her. Outside. On the ranch. Just like old times.
She stood up again and placed her hands on her hips.
“Well, sir. These are the paint supplies your fiancée sent.” Tucker looked at Lucas as if he might be able to explain further all that Vanessa had purchased.
“Seriously?”
Erin laughed again.
Lucas rolled his eyes and moved past the items toward the barn. Erin and Tucker followed. He plopped the supplies he’d brought on a hay bale just outside the door.
“I say we do things the old-fashioned way.”
The grin lit up his face. It took all her self-control not to grab him right there and kiss him.
“Now you’re talkin’.” Tucker adjusted his ball cap and dug into the stuff Lucas had brought.
Lucas winked at her and turned to help him.
Lord, give her strength, because resisting him was going to take divine intervention.
Chapter Twelve
Lucas stood at the back side of the barn, chips of paint flying as he scraped the wood. He’d done the front and one side already, getting all the old paint off to prep for the new. Tucker and Erin followed behind him painting. The structure wasn’t in near as bad of shape as it seemed, it just neede
d a little TLC. TLC that he was more than happy to give.
It was about forty degrees out, on the warmer side for that time of year in Montana, and in Lucas’s mind, damn near perfect. Between physical labor and the sun on his back, the cool air was pleasant. Not to mention the company.
Since he’d arrived a few hours earlier, he’d all but forgotten his conversation with Wes that morning. It was as if driving onto Tanner Ranch made everything else fade into the background of his mind.
Erin had music playing on an iPod station she’d brought from the house. Lucas hummed along to Kenny Chesney singing about setting the world on fire. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt this… free. Most wouldn’t think painting a barn was relaxing, but it was. For Lucas, anyway. There was an element of enjoyment he got from his work at St. Claire Enterprises but being in an office all day, wearing dress clothes, was not his ideal.
He stopped and looked around. The rolling hills patched with snow gave him a sense of peace. The trees beyond the barn were a picture of the holiday season. The song changed and a woman sang about how all she wanted for Christmas was the man she loved.
Christmas. Lucas shook his head. It sounded stupid, but in all the fuss lately, he’d almost forgotten Christmas. He used to love helping his mom and Glenna decorate the tree. They’d always done it the Monday after Thanksgiving. While other families did it right away, the Friday after, Marian St. Claire was adamant that Thanksgiving be properly celebrated and acknowledged. In a world that wanted to rush past it, she deemed it the most important holiday and would not let it be overlooked. Not in the St. Claire household, anyway. Lucas smiled at the memory.
“What are you grinning about?” Erin had come around the barn and was watching him, a smile on her face as well.
Her hair was held back by a red bandana. She wore a long-sleeved red t-shirt. A denim buttoned-down was over it like a jacket. She was using the tails of it to wipe her hands, streaks of red now on it. Her jeans and boots were paint splattered as well. She’d never been afraid of some good old-fashioned hard work. In fact, she preferred it.
When they were kids, Lucas has been happy to hang around Tanner Ranch and help with chores. Back then he didn’t see how unique it was for Erin to dive in like she did with the daily grind of running the place, but he was mesmerized by the woman before him. Solid. Dependable. Loyal. And that smile of hers. Every time he looked at her, it was like coming home.
“I was thinking about Christmas.” He forced his eyes away from her and toward the trees.
She looked as well and nodded. “I’ve had people say we should run a Christmas tree farm.”
Lucas turned to her again. “That’s a great idea!”
She looked at the ground and scuffed the dirt with the toe of her boot. “Yeah, well. We thought about it, but decided against it.”
He was about to ask her more when Tucker came around the corner. “I’m sorry, Miss Erin, but I need to get going.”
“I understand, Tucker. I appreciate you coming out today at all. You were a huge help.”
Tucker tipped his cap to her, then shook Lucas’s hand. “I’ll be around, sir, if you need any more help. I just need to get home now to help my mom.”
“I understand. Like Erin said, I’m grateful you came out today at all. I’ll make sure you’re paid well for your time.”
The boy blushed and nodded. “Thank you, sir.”
With another tip of his ball cap, he turned and left.
“I realize I should appreciate his respect in calling me sir, but damn, that makes me feel old.”
Erin’s laughed rang through the air. “I hear ya. He insists on calling me Miss Erin. Again, totally respectful, but also makes me feel old.”
“We aren’t old, are we?”
Her blue eyes looked into his. “I don’t think so. Although, older than we were…”
Her words trailed off, and he longed to know what she was about to say, but they were interrupted once more when her dad came around the same corner Tucker had disappeared behind a few moments before. A black Lab ambled beside his wheelchair. The dog wandered over to Lucas who scratched his head. The dog leaned into him as if they were old friends.
“Wow. Ya’ll have really made some progress already. That’s Gauge, by the way. He’s my trusty sidekick.” The dog walked back over next to Clayton and sat down.
“Hey, Dad. I’ll be in in just a bit to get dinner going.”
Clayton waved a hand. “No worries. I can get things started. I hope you’ll join us for supper, Lucas. After all this work you’re doing today, I’d imagine you’d have a decent appetite. And Girl Child here is one of the best cooks around.”
Erin’s cheeks turned pink at her dad’s praise.
“I remember.”
With that she snapped her head up and stared at him, wide-eyed.
“You made us chicken pot pie one time for dinner when I was out here. From scratch. I couldn’t believe that at like sixteen years old you knew how to do something like that.”
Her eyes glimmered for a moment and she ran her top teeth along her bottom lip. It was a quick movement, one he would have missed had he blinked, but it sent a shock through him and it took all his self-control not to pull her to him and kiss her right here in front of her dad.
Unaware of the electricity between the two of them, Clayton patted Erin on the arm and turned to go back to the house. “I’ll see you two soon then.”
*
Erin stared at Lucas as he smiled at her dad, watching him and Gauge make their way around the barn and back to the house.
He remembered.
In all this time, she’d assumed he left Marietta and didn’t look back. Not in any way, shape, or form. Every part of her believed she didn’t exist to him, not even in memory.
The day she’d made them chicken pot pie was one of her favorite days. They’d gone for a long ride that had ended with a race across the meadow. That afternoon had been spent lounging in the hay loft of the barn playing the what-if game and laughing. A lot. Lucas had stayed for dinner and she’d made the meal from scratch, just like he’d said. He’d sat at the kitchen table with her dad talking about… whatever, the details she didn’t recall. What she did recall was how she’d felt. The warmth of the kitchen, the buzz of the oven as it heated, the relaxed way her body had moved from counter to sink to oven, and how much she’d loved having Lucas there. His presence brought with it a sense of coming home. It was one of the best days of her life, right after the day he’d kissed her.
And he’d remembered it. Did that mean he remembered their kiss as well?
She shook her head and blinked. Focus, Tanner.
“I think we can get this portion done here before dinner time, don’t you? We might even be able to finish this by tomorrow or even Sunday.”
Painting. Barn. For Lucas’s wedding. Right.
“Sure. Yes. Time to get back to painting.”
She brought the supplies she needed around to the side of the barn where Lucas had been working. They settled into a rhythm as the music played and the sun moved lower in the sky. It really was crazy gorgeous weather for Thanksgiving. As if mother nature smiled upon their endeavor.
An endeavor to marry off Lucas to another woman.
Erin took a deep breath in and let it out. As much as she told herself that despite any and all kindness toward her, Lucas had zero romantic interest, her heart had trouble believing it. Now that he was back and spending time with her, her heart had dared to think there could be a chance.
But the last thing she wanted was to be made a fool. She’d been foolish before in thinking someone like Lucas could ever fall for someone like her. To fall down that rabbit hole again would be plain stupidity on her part. From that point on, she’d have to stay sharp. Friendship. That was it. No reading into things.
Even if he did remember a day she thought of all the time.
It didn’t mean he did. His memory most likely had been jogged in that moment bec
ause of what her dad had said, from being back at the ranch. Those types of things triggered memories. That was all.
“I hope this isn’t eating into any plans you and your dad have for decorating your house for Christmas. That it isn’t cutting into any family traditions.”
She was sitting on a milk crate, painting a low section and had to crane her neck to look up at Lucas who was halfway up a ladder, scraping old paint off. His hair had red paint chips in it, the hue making his strawberry colored highlights stand out.
“No. We don’t normally decorate until next week.”
“Really? Our family, too!”
“I like to honor Thanksgiving.”
Lucas came down the ladder and placed the scraper he was using on one of the steps. He pulled another milk crate near hers and sat down on it. “You didn’t finish saying why you guys don’t do a Christmas tree farm. I would imagine the people of Marietta would love to come here for trees.”
Erin swiped the paintbrush in her hand back and forth against the wood of the barn. Having Lucas in her life again as a friend was one thing, but telling him the extent of their financial troubles was another. She’d hardly even told her close girlfriends.
They weren’t kids anymore. And the Lucas she knew would want to swoop in and help. A trait of his she appreciated, but that wasn’t the role she wanted him to have in her life. It wasn’t the role she wanted anyone to have in her life. She and her father had made it just fine up to that point and they would continue to do so.
“We’ve thought about it, Lucas. It’s on the list of possibilities.” She stopped painting and smiled at him, hoping her answer would appease him. Of course, it didn’t.
He leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees. A whiff of his cologne floated her way on the breeze, making her lightheaded with memories. “Why do I get the feeling there’s something you’re not telling me? A lot you’re telling me.”
Her smile faded. “We aren’t kids anymore, Lucas.”
“I’m aware of that.” Something in his tone made her body tingle from the top of her head to the bottom of her boot-clad toes.
His Christmas Bride Page 9