by Joanne Rock
“Oh.” Scarlett managed to appear both sympathetic to Brianne and disappointed at the same time. “Awkward but forgivable.” She bent to kiss Malcolm’s cheek. “I can barely keep track of my siblings, so I give you credit for keeping as many people straight as you do, Gramps.”
Quinn dropped onto the sofa beside Brianne while Gabe’s new cousins drew him into conversation about his plans in Cheyenne.
“Are you sure you don’t want to upgrade that club soda to something stronger?” Quinn asked Brianne with a knowing look in his blue eyes.
“Actually, considering the evening I’m having, I’d better not drink anything that might loosen my tongue.” She sipped her drink, feeling utterly out of place in this room full of McNeills.
She wasn’t really one of them. And right now, she felt foolish for even making an appearance here tonight. She already understood that Gabe didn’t have the same kind of feelings for her that she had for him. Why torment herself more at a gathering that was for family?
Quinn lowered his voice further while the volume in the rest of the room increased. “For what it’s worth, I can tell you that my grandfather is mortified about his mistake.”
Nearby in the kitchen, Brianne heard one of the catering staff exclaim in French. How funny that the language made her feel nostalgic for Martinique. The Caribbean island wasn’t her native land, but it was more home than anywhere else, and right now she felt like an interloper in Wyoming. She wondered how long she would have to remain by Gabe’s side before she could return to the Birdsong with Rose and finish her landscape design work there.
As much as it would hurt not to see Gabe for weeks or months on end while he worked with Malcolm, Brianne knew it would be for the best if they resumed their lives separately. They could honor a contract marriage without living in the same home. She didn’t want to ruin their friendship, the bond they’d spent a year building, although part of her feared they already had.
“I certainly don’t blame your grandfather,” Brianne assured Quinn, grateful for his kindness on a day when she felt so deeply alone. “Gabe and I just wed yesterday. Most people wouldn’t know about the marriage anyway.”
“But he takes pride in the family and knowing as much about each new member as possible.” Quinn watched his grandfather for a moment before turning his gaze back to Brianne. “When he first came up with this idea that he wanted to change his will and require his heirs to be married, my brothers and I argued with him for weeks about it. He never wavered for a moment, insisting he wanted more family.”
Tempted to tell him that the marriage requirement only fostered fake relationships, Brianne bit her tongue. It wasn’t her place, and it wasn’t her family. Still, she could weigh in diplomatically, couldn’t she?
“He might be glad to surround himself with more family for now, but what if the influx of McNeills results in a spike in divorces because they rushed to the altar?” Maybe she hadn’t bitten her tongue as well as she’d planned.
Quinn didn’t appear alarmed by the idea, however. “Time will tell. I worried about that, too, at first. But now? I wonder if he knows what he’s doing after all.”
The doorbell rang again. Brianne’s heart stuttered. Would Theresa’s arrival be the end of her own tentative relationship with Gabe?
Gabe’s gaze landed on her, but she refused to meet it, afraid of how much it might reveal about her feelings for him.
Grinding her teeth, she moved closer to Scarlett in the hope of drafting her into conversation while Quinn got the door.
“Brianne.” Gabe’s voice in her ear set her nerves on edge. “I’m sorry about this. We can leave if you want.”
She shook her head in silence, straining to hear some hint of an exchange at the front door.
“My grandfather will understand,” Gabe continued, his hand a warm presence on her shoulder.
“No. Thank you.” She couldn’t help the bite in her tone. The tension in the room was sharp enough to hurt.
Maisie leaned forward in her seat. “That’s not Brock at the door,” she announced. “It’s a woman.”
Brianne’s stomach dropped. Still, she appreciated the warning because a moment later Theresa Bauder strode into the room. All six feet of her, rail-thin and lovely. Brianne was tempted to glance at Gabe to gauge his reaction, but she was afraid of what she might see.
Old feelings. Deeper feelings than he had toward her.
“I hope I’m not too late for the McNeill reunion.” Theresa seemed to strike a pose on the step above the sunken living room. She wore a head-to-toe red pantsuit, and her brown leather bucket purse contained a tiny white papillon dog with fluffy, butterfly-shaped ears.
Behind her trailed two more tall and spindly companions—a wheat blonde and a glossy brunette—each dressed in what looked like the runway’s answer to Western wear. One had a leather vest complete with silver bolo tie, but she wore it with a plaid, floor-length skirt.
“Theresa, this is a family meal,” Gabe informed her wearily.
For a moment, Brianne empathized. She understood his disappointment in a woman who had abandoned their son for purely selfish pursuits. Truly, she did. But unleashing yesterday’s wedding photo online hadn’t done anything to ease a difficult situation with a woman he already knew to be immature. And for that reason, Brianne made no move to help him.
“But as Jason’s mother, I will always be family, Gabriel,” his ex reminded him, motioning her cohorts forward as she started down the steps toward the group congregated around the stone fireplace. “I’m so excited for our Valentine’s Day mother-son photo shoot next week in New York to publicize my new album. Have you told Jason about it?”
Brianne could feel the tension and resentment radiating off Gabe from all the way across the room. And yes, she couldn’t deny an empathetic ache for him.
“Jason might be a little young to understand the photo shoot,” Gabe finally said. “But he will be there.”
Scarlett leaned closer to Brianne, curls brushing against her shoulder, and whispered, “Don’t worry. Watch me dive on the land mine.
“Theresa Bauder!” Scarlett exclaimed at full volume, hurrying over to fuss over the newcomer’s clothes, friends and dog, thoroughly distracting and welcoming Theresa at the same time.
While Scarlett made a noisy production of finding an appropriate water dish for the papillon, Brianne took a deep breath and plotted how to get through the meal. She’d endured her stepmother for years as a kid, so she could definitely handle one pampered singer for the course of a dinner. Thankfully, just then the caterer called them to the table, moving the evening along. Apparently they weren’t going to wait any longer for Brock, Maisie and Scarlett’s half brother, who had planned to join them.
“You will sit near me.” Malcolm’s voice rumbled in Brianne’s ear. He walked beside her, leaning lightly on Quinn as the group moved toward the formal dining room.
The antler chandeliers were on a low setting, and candles flickered down the length of the table decorated with pink roses in heart-shaped red bowls in a Valentine’s Day theme. The place settings were white china, but each woven mat had a smattering of red rose petals. Simple but pretty.
“Thank you,” she told Malcolm, “but I can hold my own. You should enjoy your meal.”
“I will enjoy it most learning more about you.” He steered her toward the chair at his right as they approached the table. “I insist.”
“I’ll take the flank,” Maisie announced, grabbing the seat on Brianne’s other side. The woman’s dark hair fell forward as she tucked her chair into place. “Since husbands and wives can’t sit together anyhow. Scarlett might provide good interference, but honey, I’m the wall when it comes to annoying women.”
Maisie reached for the bottle of red wine on the table and poured herself a glass. Brianne couldn’t resist a smile. She didn’t believe in girl bashing on pri
nciple, but exceptions could be made for ex-wives who chose to stir trouble. It upset Brianne to think that Theresa’s idea of visitation with her child was a photo shoot to promote an album. The defensiveness Brianne felt for the boy made her glad that Gabe was protecting his custodial rights. No child should be subjected to the whims of a parent who couldn’t be bothered to make real time for them.
“Thank you.” Brianne’s gaze went to Gabe briefly. He and Quinn were attempting to work out a seating arrangement for the rest of the table while Scarlett and Theresa were coaxing the dog—apparently named Roxy—to her travel bed in a corner of the dining room.
“I’m guessing she only bothered showing because Malcolm McNeill is...Malcolm McNeill.” Maisie sipped her wine, peering over the assembly with a cool, assessing gaze. “Everyone sees dollar signs when his name is mentioned.”
“You think so?” It provided a small comfort to Brianne to think Gabe’s grandfather was more of a target than Gabe himself.
Because no matter how much she told herself she wasn’t falling for Gabe, it was happening. And fast.
It hurt to imagine the mother of his child returning to the picture and wooing him away from Brianne, even though a better woman than her might root for that exact scenario. Ideally, Jason would then know the love of his mother.
“She abandons her kid two weeks after his birth but suddenly wants to be at a McNeill gathering in Nowhere, Wyoming?” Maisie’s dark eyebrow lifted before she rolled her eyes. “Trust me, money motivated this visit. Uh-oh.” She nudged Brianne’s arm and pointed to the corner of the dining room. “Look.”
Gabe had engaged Theresa in conversation, and it was turning animated. Her girl squad had their phones at the ready, pretending to be texting but more likely taking photos or video.
Brianne didn’t want to be a part of the drama. Nowhere in her contract with Gabe did it say she needed to be involved in a public standoff with his ex. Especially when their marriage was a facade put into place for very specific reasons.
To protect Jason. To help Nana.
It was Brianne’s fault for seeing more in the relationship than that. But she didn’t need to keep making the same mistakes with Gabe, perceiving more in his actions and attention than what was really there. Gabe didn’t need to make a fool of her. She’d managed as much just fine on her own.
Not anymore.
“Excuse me,” Brianne murmured to her table companions, who were already engrossed in the developing drama. “I really need to get home.”
She wasn’t sure that anyone even noticed her slip out the door.
* * *
Gabe could not abide his ex-wife insinuating herself at his grandfather’s dinner table—after she’d been completely absent from their son’s life since mere weeks after his birth—on a night he had planned to make special for Brianne. He wanted Brianne to consider making this marriage permanent. He knew he could make her happy if she gave him the chance.
But he sure as hell wasn’t off to a good start if he allowed Theresa and her friends to simply bluster their way into a family meal. Now, as he tried to reason with her quietly, she raised her voice.
“Why would I leave?” She threw her hands up in the air as if the answer was obvious. “I have every right to know my son’s family. It’s only fair that I know the people he spends his time with while I’m busy pursuing my own career.”
“Our son is not here,” he reminded her, aware of all the eyes on them. Especially Brianne’s. He hadn’t wanted to hurt her like this. “And you haven’t shown any interest in Jason since he was born, rejecting every single attempt I’ve made to help you spend time with him. I think it’s important he has some sense of family around him, especially since his mother has been absent from his life.”
“News flash, Gabe, you should be introducing our son to Malcolm McNeill instead of our gardener. Jason should be here, benefiting from that connection.” Theresa pointed a red talon at his chest.
Tension turned to anger. He could not allow her to disrespect a woman with a heart as kind and tender as Brianne’s, a woman who had always put the needs of the people she loved ahead of her own. A woman he was falling in love with, he realized.
The knowledge of his feelings was a wake-up call, an alarm that sounded louder than any of the smoke-screen arguments that Theresa made. Love for Brianne suddenly made everything else go quiet inside him. His feelings for her had been growing deeper every day for a year. The emotions had sneaked up on him because he’d seen it as friendship, and a father’s appreciation for her kindness and warmth toward his child.
But it was so much more than that. He loved Brianne with a fierceness that wasn’t going to go away in a year or an eternity.
“Brianne is my wife.” The word meant everything to him. It had never meant much to Theresa, he knew, but Brianne devoted more to a fake marriage than Theresa had ever committed to a real one.
That alone spoke volumes about their respective characters. And, sadly, it said something about his that he’d given his heart to a woman who wasn’t worthy of it, while he’d given a legal document to another who deserved the world at her feet.
“She is a domestic who stole you out from under me!” Theresa’s voice hit a screechy note, and the theatrics of the performance made him aware of her friends trying to capture the scene on their camera phones.
Turning on his heel, Gabe had no more to say to her, or time for her piece of performance art. But as he looked back at the dinner table full of relatives he’d only just met, he realized the one person he needed to see most wasn’t there.
The woman he loved.
Heart sinking along with his hopes of salvaging his marriage, Gabe sprinted for the door without saying good-night.
Thirteen
Outside the ranch house, the snow was falling again. Near the front steps, Gabe saw the snowmobile still parked with two helmets sitting on top. So Brianne hadn’t taken it back to the guest cottage. While he felt a moment’s relief that she wasn’t driving alone on unfamiliar back roads in the dark, he wondered where she’d gone. He withdrew his phone from his pocket to call her and noticed she had messaged him.
Your cousin Brock arrived for dinner just as I was leaving. He gave me a ride. Please take your time and work things out with your family. I’m going to pick up Nana and bring her back to Martinique with me.
Not if Gabe had anything to say about it. Pocketing his phone, he strapped on a helmet and fired up the snowmobile, determined to reach her in time to change her mind. What if she’d convinced Brock to take her all the way to the airport? But he couldn’t text her back now that he was speeding through the dark void of ranch acreage with only the half-moon overhead for light to guide him.
Brianne had been right. He’d made a tactical error in releasing the wedding photo the way he had, unwittingly antagonizing Theresa when he needed her goodwill and cooperation. He’d thought the strategy would ensure he spoke to Theresa less, but his ex-wife had also been right about one thing tonight—she would always be a part of his family and he could not afford to alienate Jason’s mother. The situation with her would always require careful handling in order to give Jason the best possible experience with his mother, without flipping his world around anymore than it already had been, and likely would be again, given her temperament.
Branches scraped Gabe’s face as he pushed the snowmobile as fast as it would go. He didn’t want to give Brianne enough time to pack and leave, but he knew any truck could speed through the terrain faster than his vehicle.
A few minutes later, though, he reached the guest cottage and found the lights still on. There was no movement outside, but through the huge floor-to-ceiling windows, he caught a glimpse of Brianne moving from room to room.
Relief coursed through him even though he knew the tougher job lay ahead of him. How would he convince her to stay? To take a chance on him again whe
n he hadn’t valued her or her opinions enough the first time?
She brought a sense of peace to his life he’d never known before. Well, peace and passion. His chest ached at the thought of losing her.
After killing the engine, he rushed to the front door and charged up the main staircase to her bedroom—the guest suite where she’d put her things even though they’d shared his bed the night before. He couldn’t bear for it to be the last time. Not after what they’d shared. Not after the way she’d captured his heart so completely. This wasn’t some friends-with-benefits situation. And it wasn’t a marriage of convenience for him—not anymore. This was the real deal, and he couldn’t accept that he might lose her.
“Brianne.” Gabe knocked lightly on the door frame even though the door wasn’t shut. He was unwilling to invade her space when she had every right to be angry with him.
Her suite was smaller than the master bedroom, but similarly decorated. There was a simple white duvet on the king-sized bed. The natural wood furnishings had yellow and red accents. A painting of the Grand Tetons sat on the mantel among a handful of antler accessories. Brianne had her suitcase on the bed, with several items already folded inside.
“I messaged you,” she said, moving quickly as she brought a toiletry bag from the bathroom toward the suitcase. “I’m going back to New York to get Nana.”
“I saw your text.” He wanted to touch her. Intercept her. But he could see the tangle of emotions in her eyes and worried about doing the wrong thing at a time when he could not afford a misstep. “Can we talk first, because—”
“I’m flying commercial. There’s a flight in two hours. I really need to be on it.” She thunked the bag into her suitcase and headed back toward the closet. “A car will be here to pick me up in—” she checked her phone screen “—ten minutes.”
That left him no time. He stalked closer. “Let me drive you instead. Or we can fly back to New York together in the morning.”
“I think it’s better I do this on my own.” Her dark eyes flipped up to meet his. No hesitation. No doubts.