“Oh, Madeline, you were just—”
“I said maybe. I tend to be pretty easy on myself, too. I have plenty more to say on this subject, to both of you, but not now. I’m beat. We’ll talk at dinner. Ed can referee.”
“Will we need one?”
She smiled. “No, but she’ll appoint herself to the position, anyway. She did last night at the sleepover.”
“Why was she the referee at the sleepover?”
“We spent a good part of last night debating this situation. I already knew most of what you told me, but I wanted to hear it from you.”
“Oh… my… God.” She pulled up next to Ed’s massive stone steps and turned to stare at Madeline. “You’ve been sitting on this all day?”
“The news last night didn’t come as a surprise. I flat-out told them I doubted the entire setup and I was planning to ask you and Teague about it at some point today. They decided to prep me in advance to lower the temperature. Besides, they had some things to say on the subject.”
“I’m stunned.”
Madeline lay a hand on her arm. “Go rest up. Teague should, too. Ed and I will see you both at six.”
“Okay.” Val swallowed. “Will there be champagne?”
“Absolutely.”
“Good.”
Chapter Thirty-One
Teague used Val’s absence to practice doing without her. When he mucked out the stalls, he took off his shirt because the day was unseasonably warm. If a certain person who liked seeing him bare-chested wasn’t around, her loss.
When he shaved, he had the bathroom to himself. If she was missing her eye candy, too bad. Didn’t have to worry about the mirror fogging up, either. That was a good thing, right? It would be nice when the extra shampoo and conditioner bottles weren’t cluttering up his shower.
Soon he’d have the entire dresser for his clothes. The whole closet, too. He’d lived alone ever since Ed had pared down to one wrangler and he’d been fine with that. Mostly. He’d be fine with it again.
He was used to eating meals alone, so having lunch by himself was like old times. Except he ate it way too early. He hadn’t been particularly hungry after sharing a big breakfast with Val. But he’d run out of chores around the house so he’d made lunch.
The kitchen clock was not his friend. It told him Val wouldn’t be back for at least three hours. He’d carried the saddlebags down to the tack room but he couldn’t start oiling them because he’d promised to wait for her.
After he cleaned up his lunch dishes and wiped down the counter and the kitchen table, he was officially finished with everything he absolutely had to do. Not good.
He wandered into the living room. “You know what, Flo? After you go back home, I’m getting somebody just like you. I always thought having a houseplant was a silly idea and I’d probably kill whatever I brought in here.”
Flo listened, like she always did, without comment.
“But if all you need is to be watered on a schedule and a little daily conversation, I can handle that. I’m not saying I can replace you. I realize you’re special. But maybe I can find somebody who’s similar but different, if you know what I mean.”
Since she said nothing, clearly she did know exactly what he meant.
“Tell you what. Since Val might not get around to reading me one of those romance books, maybe I’ll take a look at one now. Don’t want to miss my chance to find out what’s in them and time’s running short.”
His breath caught. He would have to go and say something like that. Ironic that he was stuck with extra time. After Val came back, he wouldn’t have a single second to spare. Each one would be more precious than the rarest gem.
He was a third of the way through one of the paperbacks when Val walked in. He levered himself out of the cushy easy chair. “Hey, there.”
“Hi.” She put down her two canvas bags of supplies.
She didn’t act particularly glad to see him. He squelched his first impulse, to go over and kiss her hello. Instead he held up the book. “Have you read this?”
“Yes.”
“Does the guy end up with the woman he’s crazy about?”
“Yes, he does.”
“Whew, that’s a relief. At this point things look bad for those two.” He closed the book but left his finger in the spot where he’d quit reading.
“The couples always get together at the end of a romance novel.”
“Always?”
“Yes. If they don’t, it’s not a romance.”
“Interesting.” Looked like this interlude with her would be disqualified.
He pulled his bandana out of his back pocket and laid it inside the book to mark his place. Then he left it on the coffee table next to Flo. “Do you want something to drink? We can take a couple of bottles of cider down to the tack room. That’s assuming you still want to oil the—”
“Your mom knows everything.”
Oh, boy. That was why she didn’t look overjoyed to see him. The quick jolt to his system didn’t last long, though. What difference did it make to the eventual outcome? “That’s fine, Val. No worries.”
“You’re not upset? Or surprised?”
He walked toward her. “If I’d given myself time to think about it, I could have anticipated this. My mom’s very persuasive.”
“She didn’t have to coax me. She asked what was actually going on with us. I told her. Turns out she knew most of it already. It came out at the sleepover.”
He paused, disconcerted. “The Babes blew our cover?”
“She let them know she planned to ask us some questions today because something was fishy. They decided to disarm the bomb.”
“Oh.”
“They made the right decision. She had time to process it before she saw either of us. And wow, does she have self-restraint. She kept it all to herself until we were driving back. It didn’t impact the special time with the girls one tiny bit.”
Now that he was only a few feet away, he picked up on the fatigue in her eyes. She’d been on the front lines while he’d been home reading a book. Time to get his head out of his butt.
Closing the gap, he drew her into his arms. “I’m a jerk. I should’ve figured out it would go that way. If I’d told her the whole story before she got involved in the sleepover, then you wouldn’t have had to—”
“I’m so glad you didn’t do that! Think of what it would have been like for me and your mom today if you’d confessed yesterday.”
He took a breath. “Bad.”
“Very bad. Even if we’d kept a lid on it for the sake of the girls, they would have picked up on our stress and the whole plan would have been compromised.”
“In other words, I put you in a lose-lose position. What a guy.”
“It wasn’t lose-lose.” She cupped his face in both hands. “We had a wonderful day. The kids had a ball. Your mom taught them to conga and after we were done, she led a conga line down the hallway. A couple of other teachers joined in. Harland Kuhn came out of his office and danced with us.”
“She did the conga line when she was fulltime at her old school.”
“She told me. I anticipated having fun today, but I didn’t know she’d be one of the best parts of it.”
“Even though the ride home was hell?”
“It was rough, but liberating. I felt so guilty trying to convince her I’m something I’m not. I’m glad that’s over.”
Then it dawned on him. “And you can go home.”
She blinked. “I didn’t think of that.”
“No? I would have expected it to be the first thing you thought of.” His whole body began to ache. “Want me to help you pack up?”
“I can’t leave yet.”
“Why not? Party’s over.” God, this hurt.
“We’re invited to have dinner with your mom and Ed up at the house.”
“Why?”
“Your mom has some things she wants to talk to us about. But she was exhausted when I dropped her off
. She plans to take a nap so she’ll be ready to tackle whatever deep discussion she has in mind.”
“Are you sure she needs both of us? You’ve already been put through the wringer. I can handle this by myself. My problem. My job.”
“Trying to get rid of me?”
That stopped him in his tracks. “I thought you wanted to go.”
“I do, but…”
Confusion rattled in his brain. “Is it the saddlebags? I have a hard time believing you’re stalling so you can help me with them, but—”
“That’s not it. I’d like to go to dinner tonight and hear what your mom has to say about all this. She’s not angry, Teague. She’s… processing.”
He nodded. “She does that.”
“I admire the way she’s reacted. No drama. Tons of empathy. This is going to sound sappy, but I want to be her when I grow up.”
“Then we’ll go to dinner. And oil the saddlebags between now and then.” Maybe after dinner she’d load up her truck and drive away. Or maybe she’d stay one more night. He’d take it as it came.
“Although I asked to help you with the saddlebags, I’m afraid I might nod off in the middle of it. I didn’t sleep much last night. I’m tempted to follow your mom’s lead and take a nap instead.”
“You’ve already put in one heck of a day. By all means, grab some shut-eye.”
“I’ll make a wild guess that you didn’t sleep much last night, either. I woke up once and caught you staring at the ceiling.”
“Sleeping with my eyes open. That’s a thing.”
“Baloney. I kept you awake, didn’t I?”
“Maybe.”
“Look, I don’t want to fool around, but—”
“Oh, me, either.” Although it might be his last chance.
“I’d like to make you a deal.”
“The answer is yes.”
“You don’t know what I’m going to say.”
“I don’t care what you’re going to say. Whatever it is, I’m down with it.”
“Then see what you think of this. First we take a nice nap. No sexy times, but we could do that spooning thing if you’re willing. It relaxes me.”
Well, at least it was true for one of them.
“I was just being difficult last night because… well, you know why.”
“You had a burr under your saddle by the name of Teague?”
“You didn’t mean to be a burr.”
“Oh, I think I did. I was prickly. But I’m better, now.”
“I can tell.” She smiled. “The nap works for you?”
“Yes, ma’am.” A platonic bit of spooning with Val beat the heck out of oiling saddlebags.
“Then after our nap, we’ll head up to Ed’s house to have dinner and a discussion with your mom.”
“So far so good.” He held his breath. She was coming to the edge of the cliff.
“Then after dinner….”
He waited, chest tight.
“We’ll come back here and go at it like bunnies.”
He choked on a laugh.
“You okay?”
He cleared his throat, giddy with relief. “Yes, ma’am. I did not expect that phrase to come out of your mouth.”
“Are you good with the plan?”
“Like I said before, the answer is yes. No, let me amend that. Hell, yeah.”
“It would be stupid to pack up and drive home tonight.”
“I agree.” It was only a short reprieve, but he’d take it. Loosening his hold, he slipped his fingers through hers and started toward the hall. “Let’s get started on that nap. If we follow your plan, we’ll need to be well-rested.”
Chapter Thirty-Two
Val kept her clothes on except for her boots. Teague did, too. About thirty seconds after she nestled into the solid curve of his body, she was asleep.
She woke up disoriented. Why was she lying in Teague’s bed fully clothed? Oh, yeah. The nap. Spooning.
Except he’d switched his position. He was still in the bed, but not spooning her anymore. And what was that whispery sound that came every so often? Ah. Pages turning.
Reaching behind her, she touched the denim of his jeans and the muscular calf under the material.
“Trying to feel me up, lady?”
“I couldn’t figure out what you were doing.”
“I’m riding hell-bent-for-leather toward the ranch where a slime-ball named Buck has my girl. If I don’t get there in time, he’s liable to—”
“That’s the exciting part.” She rolled to her back and patted his leg. “Keep reading.”
“Okay.” He moved his leg slightly, tucking it more firmly against her side as he turned another page.
Resting her arm on his knee, she cupped the swell of his calf muscle under the wear-softened material. This cozy companionship, a complete one-eighty from heavy breathing and hot sex, was slightly unnerving. Sweet, though.
When she’d asked for quiet time, a break from their usual passionate encounters, he’d given her that. Instead of rousing her from sleep with kisses and coaxing her to make love, he’d fetched the book he’d started earlier.
That floaty sensation was back, even though they weren’t kissing or gazing into each other’s eyes. Was this happiness? Whatever it was, she liked it.
If she stayed with Teague long enough, she might begin to believe the happily-ever-after in those books was achievable. But gaining that confidence could take months, even years. How long would she hold her breath, waiting for life to lose its luster?
He wanted kids. Would she ever have the courage to go that route? What if her parents had stuck together for the sake of her and her sister? What if they’d created a groove of routine so deep they couldn’t climb out, even though their children had moved on?
Teague closed the book with a sigh. “Nice.”
“You liked it?”
“What’s not to like? Two good people who deserved to find happiness. And in the end, they did.” He laid the book on the nightstand and gazed at her. “Processing?”
“Yes.”
“Since you’re not leaping on me and smothering me with kisses like the lady in the book, I won’t ask questions.”
Her heart stuttered. “Teague, I wish—”
“Me, too.” He picked up his phone. “It’s five-thirty. What time are we due at Ed’s?”
“Six. And I’d like to take a quick shower before we go.”
“Then I’ll leave you to it.” He swung his legs over the edge of the bed and stood. “I’ll wait in the living room. Might start another book.” He walked out.
So much for the floaty sensation. Sadness took its place. Soggy, drippy, cold sadness. She hated that he was unhappy. Her plan for after dinner could be a gigantic mistake, temporary pleasure that only made the pain worse later.
By the time she joined him in the living room, she was convinced they should cancel that part.
He marked his place in the book, laid it on the coffee table and stood. “You look terrific.”
“Thank you, but I don’t feel terrific. I feel like a louse. I shouldn’t have made that deal with you. Coming back here for fun and games after dinner is a mistake.”
“I’d suggest the meadow, but I don’t think the venue is the problem.”
“I’ve tortured you enough. I should just leave.”
“I don’t want that and neither do you.”
“It’s for the best.”
“That’s debatable.” He picked up his phone and glanced at the time. “We need to go.” He laid it back down and gestured toward the door. “After you.”
She walked out ahead of him and waited at the bottom of the steps.
He settled his hat on his head as he came down to meet her, his gaze steady. He’d never looked better. She ached to go to him, wrap her arms around his solid warmth and be enclosed in his strong embrace.
He reached for her hand and laced his fingers through hers. “It’ll be okay.” Giving her hand a squeeze, he started up
the hill, shortening his normal stride.
He’d been doing that all along, but tonight it touched her more deeply. Their time of walking hand-in-hand was coming to an end. Instead of chatting as they usually did, they climbed the hill in silence.
Madeline must have been watching for them because she opened the door as they stepped up on the porch. She glanced at their clasped hands, looked up and smiled. “I’m glad you’re here. Ed’s pouring the champagne.”
Champagne. Teague was permanently linked to it, now. Champagne was only the beginning of a long list of reminders she’d be dealing with on a regular basis. He’d be in the same fix, only worse. He might have to remodel his whole house.
He let go of her hand and gave his mom a hug. “I’m sorry, Mom. I—”
“Now, now, none of that.” She hugged him and patted his chest. “We’ll get this sorted out. Come on in so we can get settled.”
After Teague left his hat on the rack by the door, Madeline ushered them into the dining room where a crystal chandelier above the table cast rainbows over the snowy tablecloth. Enough shade had fallen on the walled garden outside the window to trip the switch for the fairy lights.
Candles and a flower arrangement signaled Ed’s intention to make the occasion festive. Silverware and china gleamed. A flute filled with golden champagne sat at every place. The seating arrangement was two places on one side of the long table, one on the end and one on the opposite side.
Ed came out of the kitchen carrying a silver ice bucket with a fresh bottle uncorked and ready to deploy. Val appreciated her efforts and she looked forward to whatever wisdom Madeline chose to impart. But there weren’t enough flowers, fairy lights and champagne in the world to turn this dinner into a celebration.
“Welcome, welcome.” Ed put down the ice bucket. “Have a seat, please. You two take the chairs facing the garden. I sent my cook home again, so—”
“Then I’ll help you serve,” Teague said.
“No, son, I’m helping her.” Madeline gestured toward the table. “Sit down, please.”
Teague frowned. “But—”
“Sit down, please.” Madeline smiled, but her tone was pure teacher-in-command.
Marriage-Minded Cowboy Page 17