They talked more as they ate. No one wanted dessert, so as soon as the check was paid, they went out to their vehicles. Libby took the lead in her Range Rover, with Jeff following in his Maserati and Holden trailing behind in his pickup truck.
Her self-appointed protector looked even grimmer when they arrived at the house.
The first thing that caught Jeff’s eye was the Lowell photo gallery that lined much of the foyer and both walls of the grand front staircase. “Wow.” He stopped at the framed pictures of three generations of Lowells, then he studied Percy and Libby’s wedding photo.
“You were awfully young when you got married.”
She had been. “Twenty-two. Right out of college.”
“And you were married how long?”
Libby noticed Holden studying the photos, too, with the familiar mixture of grief, guilt and sadness. “Almost eight years.”
Jeff turned back to her. “I can see why you want to sell,” he told her empathetically. “Residing here must feel like living in a mausoleum.”
Aptly put, Libby thought.
“The tour?” Holden said, looking irritated again.
Libby inhaled and braced herself for another slew of questions from the ambitious businessman. “Let’s get started,” she said. So I can put this evening—and the onslaught of confusing emotions—behind me.
HOLDEN KNEW LIBBY WAS ticked off at him. And maybe he was overstepping his bounds. But when Jeff Johnston asked to see the second floor…
“Not a good idea.” Holden moved to block the way to the stairs.
Jeff turned to Libby with a goading smile. “I thought the two of you weren’t involved.”
“We’re not,” she said, a hint of color coming into her cheeks.
Maybe not in the traditional way, Holden thought. But they were linked through Percy’s memory. And he had made a promise not to let anyone take advantage of his best friend’s widow. A promise he would continue to carry out until his dying day.
“Actually, we are,” he stated flatly.
Libby’s jaw dropped in shock. “I can’t believe you just alluded to that,” she said, glaring at Holden.
It didn’t matter, he thought, because Jeff clearly believed him, not Libby. And Johnston’s obvious respect for another man’s territory would keep him from making an untoward pass at Libby, at least for now.
“I’m going to head out,” Jeff said, his demeanor slightly less personal as he backed off. “But I’ll be in touch.”
“I look forward to it.” Libby’s tone was crisp and businesslike. Spine stiff, she walked him to the door.
As soon as he’d left, she whirled back to Holden and inhaled, the action lifting the soft curves of her breasts. A pulse worked in her throat as she kept her eyes meshed with his. “You had no right to tell Jeff Johnston he couldn’t go up to the second floor.”
Holden found himself tracking the fall of honey-colored hair swinging against her shoulders and caressing the feminine lines of her face. Wondering if it was as silky to the touch as he recalled, he asked, “You were really going to let Jeff Johnston see the bedrooms?”
“No, of course not.” Libby propped her hands on her hips and sent him a chastising look. “Not without having a chance to tidy up and get the property ready to show!” She inched closer, inundating him with a drift of cinnamon perfume. “But that’s not the point, Holden.”
Desire sprang up within him, as surely as irritation had. Reminding himself she was off-limits for a whole host of reasons, he returned carefully, “Then what is the point?”
Their eyes locked, providing another wave of unbidden heat between them. “You intimated to him that you and I are having a fling.”
“No.” Holden savored her nearness, and the pleasure that came from being alone with her, in a way they hadn’t been for months now.
He turned and wandered toward the cozy family room in the back of the house. “I said we are involved,” he corrected, as he passed another row of photos, of Percy and Libby together, involved in all the outdoor activities Percy loved.
Reminded that Libby was once his best friend’s wife, Holden shoved his hands in the pockets of his wool trousers and drawled, “I just didn’t say how we are involved.”
She stepped out of her heels and stood holding the sexy shoes, as if she wanted to lob them at his head. “Same difference,” she snapped.
Holden let his glance drift down her spectacular pantyhose-clad legs to her toes. “Really?” His gaze returned slowly and deliberately to her face, pausing on her lips, before moving to her long-lashed green eyes. Ignoring the threat of the stilettos, he leaned closer still and dropped his tone to a husky whisper. “’Cause I don’t remember anything sexual or romantic happening between us.”
Libby sniffed and sent him a quelling look. “Only because you came to your senses and put a stop to it.”
Wanting something wasn’t the same as taking it. Particularly when they both had been lost and hurting, searching for any way to end the pain.
As it turned out, Holden recalled soberly, neither of them could have lived with that.
Curtailing his rising emotions, he shrugged. “You said it was for the best.”
Libby kept her distance, eventually drifting over toward the fireplace, where she pivoted, her back to the mantel. Raking her teeth across her lower lip, she admitted quietly, “And that was true. I wasn’t myself that night.”
For a long time, Holden had let himself believe that.
Now, cognizant of the tension that charged the air between them, he studied the mixture of regret and longing in her eyes. Found himself theorizing before he could stop himself, “And maybe you were yourself, Libby. Maybe your instincts were right.”
Another shadow crossed her eyes. “What are you saying?”
Holden looked at the gold broken-heart pendant shimmering against the delicate ivory of her skin. Lower still, he could see the hint of cleavage in the V neckline of her black cashmere sweater dress. “That if I hadn’t been such a gentleman… If I had allowed us to follow through on our urges…”
Maybe she wouldn’t have held him at arm’s length all this time. Maybe they could have shrugged off that flare of desire and gone back to being friends. Kissed and found out there was no chemistry between them, after all. Or argued and cleared the tension that way.
Instead, they had been adult about it. Distant. Careful. Unerringly polite. And tense as could be.
Libby studied him with a brooding look. “I know you’re trying to be gallant here, Holden. But we have to face facts. I was the one who wanted to kiss you that night. Not the other way around.”
Noting the raw vulnerability in her expression, Holden felt his heart go out to her all over again.
He realized it was his turn to be honest. No matter how much it complicated their lives. “You’re wrong about that, Libby,” he told her hoarsely.
His gaze lingered on her, as he paused to let his words sink in. “I would have given everything I had that night to see where that burst of physical attraction would lead.”
She shook her head. “But we couldn’t because I was a wreck. In some ways I still am a wreck.”
Not sure what she meant, Holden stared at her.
Libby lifted her hands. “It’s this house, Holden. The dealership. I can’t be either place without feeling like Percy’s wife.” Her voice caught and her lower lip trembled. “That’s the real reason I can’t stay here in Laramie. If I do, I’ll never be able to move on.”
As Holden looked around, he saw what she meant.
The home was brimming with signs of Percy and his folks, and the generations who had lived here before that.
It was clearly a Lowell domain.
Holden recalled that Libby had suggested a few small changes after they had taken over the residence, when Percy was still alive. All had been gently but firmly refused. Libby, in her usual genial way, had stopped bringing up the subject. And although she could have redecorated since Perc
y died, she hadn’t. Probably because it would have felt disloyal, an insult to his memory, or disrespectful to his wishes.
No wonder she felt trapped, Holden mused sympathetically. He edged closer. “You want to get married again?”
Determination stiffened her slender frame. “Of course. I want to fall in love. I want to have kids. I want to feel like everything good is still ahead of me.”
Everything she would have had, Holden thought, on a fresh wave of guilt, had her husband still been alive.
“Then you’re going to have to do a lot more than just sell the dealership and the house,” he told her sternly. “You’re going to have to start dating again.”
Libby eyed him mockingly. “Thank you, Dr. Phil.”
“I’m serious.”
“I know you are.” Her hips swaying provocatively, she strode past him toward the kitchen.
Like every other room in the house, it had been decorated long before Libby arrived on the scene. And although the color scheme was okay—if you liked bleached oak cabinets and beige walls—the once top-of-the-line appliances were definitely showing their age. As were some of the wall hangings and wooden blinds.
“The only problem is, no one will ask me out.”
She hit the switch, flooding the room with light, then headed for the fridge.
Holden followed her lazily. Glad she had decided to do something to distract them from the new tension between them, he watched her rummage through the contents until she emerged with a chocolate-and-peppermint Yule log from the local bakery.
His mouth watering for more than the sweet, he settled against the counter.
“That’s because you’re still putting out the I’m-a-widowand-therefore-off-limits-to-anyone-with-any-sensitivity vibe.”
Libby stood on tiptoe to reach the dessert plates. “I am not.”
He came forward to help her, steadying her with a hand to her waist. “Yeah…you are.” He finished getting the dishes down for her. “But we can fix that.”
Her lips pursed stubbornly. “How?” she asked, cutting two slices and handing him one, complete with a fork.
Holden settled opposite her at the table. Their knees touched momentarily. Regretting the contact—and the sizzle of warmth it engendered—he pulled back and continued to focus on solving her problem. “By finding you a rebound guy.”
Libby frowned. “I get that you’re trying to help me, but why would you want any other guy to sign up for that—after what you went through with your ex?” She scowled protectively, like the close friend she had once been before their ill-fated kiss-that-never-quite-happened. “Heidi broke your heart! To the point that you’ve never dated seriously since.”
“I haven’t dated seriously because I haven’t found the right woman,” Holden corrected bluntly. “But I should put myself out there if I want to move on, too. And I do.”
Libby went very still. “What are you suggesting?”
Holden’s spirits rose as the idea took on momentum. “That we both shake off the rust. Get back in the game.”
Libby licked the frosting off the back of her fork. “By that you mean…?”
“Go out to dinner. Attend holiday parties. Really celebrate the season. Who knows? If you and I get back in the habit of dating again, it might give us both a whole new outlook on life.”
Libby’s soft lips took on an enticing curve. “Meaning what?” she murmured cynically. “I might be so content I won’t want to sell the dealership and move out of town?”
He grinned at her sarcasm and lifted a palm. “I’m just saying…”
Silence fell as the notion stuck. They studied each other.
Libby took the last bite of her dark chocolate cake, savoring the sweet decadence. “So, cowboy with all the answers, how do you propose I find my rebound man?”
Chapter Three
“You’re looking at him.”
Libby stared at Holden, sure she hadn’t heard right. “Why in the world would you do that, after the way you were hurt the last time?”
“Unwittingly being someone else’s rebound person is what makes me right for the task. I know you still love Percy and always will. It’s not going to be easy for you to move on.”
Guilt threatened to overwhelm Libby. She and Percy hadn’t been in love at the end. But no one knew that…. “Don’t put me up for sainthood,” she said quietly. She had enough of that from the community every single day. “Because I’m not the perfect woman and I was never the perfect wife.”
“Percy sure thought otherwise.”
More guilt flooded her heart.
“He’d never met a woman who was more accommodating.”
Libby pushed back her chair and carried her plate to the dishwasher. “Which is one reason I’m so unhappy,” she remarked lightly. “I’ve spent too much of my life trying to please everyone else.”
Holden put his dish and fork in the machine, too. Then he leaned against the counter, watching her. “Your aunt Ida?”
Libby could feel him sizing her up, trying to figure out how to convince her to stay where he could keep an eye on her, and hence, continue to fulfill his deathbed promise to her late husband.
Wishing she weren’t so aware of Holden’s presence, Libby retreated into scrupulous politeness. “I was only seven when my parents died. Even though my aunt was in her fifties at the time, she took on the responsibility of raising me.” She sighed. “I loved her dearly and will always be grateful to her for taking me in. But…because I was her only remaining family and she mine…she was paranoid about potential dangers and kept me on a very tight leash.”
“I remember you had to live at home with her while you were attending UT.”
Promising herself she was not going to fall prey to the attraction between them, Libby nodded. “Part of it was that she needed someone to take care of her by then, but the other part was that she didn’t want me doing anything the least bit reckless.”
“Which is where Percy came in,” Holden guessed.
Libby made a face. In retrospect she could hardly believe her recklessness. “After Aunt Ida passed, that was all I wanted to do. Percy took me skydiving and hiking and taught me how to water-ski.” More than anything, the diversion had helped her survive her mourning.
Holden moved closer, holding her gaze in an increasingly intimate way. “You don’t do any of that stuff anymore.”
Hanging on to her composure by a thread, she rubbed a nick on the counter with her fingertip. “I guess I had more of my aunt in me than I realized because I never really liked it.”
Any more than I like selling tractors and ranch equipment now.
“But…at the same time—” Libby lifted her chin, drew a deep breath “—I had something to prove. Once that was accomplished, my total freedom to finally do as I pleased verified that I actually wanted a more sedate lifestyle.” She flashed him a rueful smile, aware that what had comforted her had eventually ended up nearly doing him in. “Which was where you entered the picture….”
“I went back to doing those things with Percy when you stopped.”
“And—contrary to what you might have thought—I really was appreciative.”
“That I took your place?”
“I knew Percy wasn’t going to stop indulging in physically challenging activities. He was too much of a dare-devil for that. I was glad he had someone trustworthy and levelheaded to go with him.”
Holden’s expression radiated guilt, and silence fell between them.
Compassion for his plight forced her to go on. “So you see, Holden,” Libby continued gently, “you have already done more than enough for both Percy and for me. You really don’t have to squire me around, the way you did tonight.”
“Suppose I want to,” Holden said. “What then?”
She blinked. “Why would you want to do that?” she demanded.
Merriment turned up the corners of his lips. “Because it occurs to me now that I need a rebound woman as much as you need a rebound
man.”
HER HEARTBEAT KICKING UP a notch, Libby studied him. “You’re serious.”
Holden lounged against the counter opposite her, his arms folded against his chest. He stared at her with a steely resolve that matched her own. “Think about it. I’ll always view you as Percy’s wife.”
Trying not to think what his steady appraisal and deep voice did to her, Libby appraised him right back. “And I’ll always regard you as his best friend.”
Cynicism twisted a corner of his mouth. “So there’s no chance either of us will take a dating arrangement to heart.”
Libby began to see where he was going with this. His proposal could be the solution to both their problems, as well as a bridge to the future. “It’ll just be part of the process we both need to go through to get back out there.”
“Right,” he said casually. “Kind of like riding a bike…”
Stubbornly, she kept her eyes locked with his, even as her heart raced like a wild thing in her chest. “We’re going to need ground rules,” she warned.
He accepted her condition with a matter-of-fact nod. “The more specific, the better.”
“How long should we do this?”
He shrugged, considering. “Through New Year’s?”
Libby drummed her fingers on the countertop. “That would get us all the way through the holidays.”
His big body began to relax. “It’s always good not to be alone this time of year.”
She nodded and took a deep breath. “Invites too much pity. Which—” she leaned in close “—is something I think we can agree neither of us needs.”
A companionable silence fell between them. Searching for other pitfalls, Libby said, “What about our friends and your family?”
Holden grimaced, suddenly looking like a knight charged with protecting his queen. “I don’t see any need to make a big announcement. They’ll figure it out. Eventually.”
She appreciated his desire to shield her from hurt. And while she didn’t need his chivalry, in this one instance she supposed it wouldn’t hurt to accept it. “That would lessen the pressure.”
A Cowboy to Marry Page 3