by Desiree Holt
“And I need to get out to the barn, feed the horses, and get ready for the guys showing up to be interviewed.”
“How many?” she asked.
“Well, five answered the ad online, but I checked with Ed at the feed store. He put the ad on his bulletin board and got a couple of takers. I want to get his take on what I should be looking for before anyone gets here.”
“When you come into town”—she grinned—“if you stop at Heart Starter, I hear the owner might give you a treat.”
He laughed and, reaching out, pulled her tight against him. “I’m not sure I can get the kind of treat I want during business hours.”
“Ooh, that sounds tempting.” She molded her body to his, feeling the semihard erection he always seemed to have since they got married.
“It would be a lot more tempting if you hadn’t rented out that apartment over the shop.”
“Shelley Montgomery was delighted to get it,” she pointed out. “We agreed I wouldn’t work weekends anymore And Risa’s sister is home with her family then. Shelley wanted out of her parents’ place. She’s taking classes at the community college during the week, so this worked out for everyone.”
“Except for me when I want a quickie with my wife.” He took her mouth in a kiss that scorched her down to her toenails. “He probed with his tongue, licking every inch of the inside of her mouth before backing off, leaving them both breathless. “Guess that’ll have to hold us until tonight.”
“Meanie,” she teased, trying to pull herself together.
“Hey.” He held up his hands. “I’m not the one who took away our little love nest.” Then he laughed. “It’ll be tough, but I can wait.” He brushed his lips over hers. “I know it will be worth it.”
He thought about the whole thing as he walked out toward the barn. He was aware, even though she’d hardly mentioned it, she wanted the vindication of at least being accepted into the show, and maybe even selling her entry. He’d done some reading up on this when he understood what her situation was. He’d learned that often, artists were so well received at one of these shows, galleries offered them solo shows of their work. If that could happen for her, he knew she’d be well and truly past the disaster she’d lived through. Some of the smaller ones were very prestigious and would do a lot to help restore her shattered confidence.
*****
Heart Starter was wall-to-wall people when the bell over the door sounded and Lexie glanced up to see Killian walk in with his familiar loose-hipped stride. She wondered if she’d ever get tired of watching at him. Broad shoulders and narrow hips defined his muscular frame, a body she loved running her hands over and feeling the hard planes and sculpted muscles. He wore his thick black hair a little longer than when they’d first met, but on him it looked good. A square jaw and high cheekbones defined the masculinity of his face. Altogether, he was one damn fine package.
He met her gaze over the heads of the crowd and pointed to the kitchen in back. She nodded and continued filling an order. It was a good fifteen minutes longer before she could step away from the counter and go searching for her husband.
Husband!
God, how she loved saying and thinking that word. She smiled to herself. Their courtship had been fast and their marriage was still new, but she never had a doubt it was forever. They’d gotten past her insecurities from the art show fiasco and his worries that he’d be a philanderer like Dusty. Now, she looked forward to decades with him, raising horses and hopefully a bunch of kids.
She found him in the kitchen, sitting in the one chair she’d left there, feet propped up on two cartons she had yet to unpack. He was munching on a cinnamon bun she knew he’d plucked from the tray she’d taken from the oven just before he got there, and reading one of her equipment catalogues.
“Thinking of going into business in competition?” she joked, licking a drop of icing from his mouth and planting her lips on his. The kiss almost made her forget where she was.
“Uh, no, I think I’ll stick to horses. Me and kitchens don’t get along too well.”
“Then it’s a good thing I like to cook,” she teased.
“Speaking of food, can I steal you away a little while for lunch?”
She shook her head. “You have no idea how much I’d love that. But the next wave, the early afternoon gossips, will be here in about fifteen, and I need to get ready for them.”
He frowned. “You have to eat, Lexie.”
“I will. I’ll send Liz down to Cubby’s in a bit for some chicken salad sandwiches.”
“Why don’t you let me go get them,” he suggested. “I can get something for myself, too. Bring it back here. Maybe sneak a minute or two while you steal a bite now and then.” He wiggled his eyebrows. “Ogle that fine ass of yours.”
She gave him a playful swat. “My ass had better be the only one you ogle. But, really, Killian. You can eat there, at a table, with silverware and everything.”
“Or I can eat here and catch a quick kiss with my wife between customers.”
She laughed at him. “Fine. I won’t turn it down. If you’re sure.”
“I am.” He chewed and swallowed the last of the cinnamon bun and rose to his feet. “Go ask Liz what she wants and I’ll go on down to Cubby’s.”
“That is one fine man.” Liz sighed, as they watched him go out the door.
“You got that right,” Lexie agreed. She gave thanks every day they’d gotten past all the initial bumps.
“So, how are you guys settling in out there? Killian excited about the horses?”
The last of the current crop of customers left right after Killian, so the women took advantage of the opportunity to chat.
“Oh, yes.” Lexie couldn’t help smiling. “Owning an Appaloosa breeding ranch has been his dream for a long time. And the breeder he bought stock from has been a big help to him.”
“You lucked out on the land, too,” Liz commented. “The guy you bought it from hardly lived in the house before he decided he wanted to go back to Oregon.”
“Yeah, we couldn’t figure that one out. He built a gorgeous house and then decided to leave?”
Liz shrugged. “Rumor has it his brand new wife didn’t like Kansas and definitely not Red Creek. She’s a Portland gal, and the excitement of living here wore off real fast.”
“I’ll never understand people,” Lexie told her. “She surely knew what she was getting into before the wedding.”
Liz rearranged some of the pastry display. “Like I said, you can’t figure some people out. So. What’s happening with Savannah? Did you spill the beans to hubby yet?”
Liz was the only other person she had confided in about the art show.
“I’m telling you.” She sighed. “Wouldn’t you know the letter would arrive on a day I’m working? Why they insist on sending snail mail, I’ll never know. Anyway, Killian got it, and now he’s all over me about it.”
Liz giggled. “I wouldn’t mind having that man all over me.”
“Hands off, girl.” Lexie nudged her with an elbow, but she was smiling. “That one’s all mine.”
“He sure is,” Liz agreed. “It’s there plain for everyone to see. Are you going to do it?”
Lexie nibbled her lower lip. “I guess. I’m really torn. I want to enter and, hopefully, at least place. But what if they reject all my entries? Or I don’t win anything? And I’m not sure how I’ll take being back in Savannah.”
Liz put her hands on Lexie’s shoulders and looked her in the eye. “You can do this, Lex. And if that asshole is around, why Killian can punch his lights out.”
Lexie laughed. “I can see him doing just that. But I’m trying to not think about what happened with him and focus on myself.”
“Do you have any idea what pieces you’ll submit? I’ve hardly seen any of your work, but what you hang in here is exquisite.”
“Not yet. But I have a piece I’ve been working on in secret. I’m hoping to get my entries off without my husband hanging over my
head, so he doesn’t see it.”
“Why, is it—”
The bell dinged and a group of laughing people pushed through the doorway.
“Here comes the next wave.”
Chapter Four
It had taken some fancy talking on Killian’s part to convince Lexie driving to Savannah was both exhausting and impractical.
“It’s a fifteen hour drive, darlin’,” he kept telling her. “We’ll both be exhausted, and you want to be fresh and alert, right?”
“But if we drive, I can take my entry with me,” she’d reminded him, not for the first time.
“Lexie.” He’d reached out and pulled her against him. “Didn’t you tell me FedEx offers customized service? That they do that all the time.”
She’d nodded.
“Then that’s what we’ll do. We’ll drive into the city, and you can supervise the process yourself.”
She was such a bundle of nerves, and he did his best not to lose patience with her. He was already irritated because she hadn’t allowed him to help her choose her submission pieces. What was the big fucking secret, anyway? For the most part, she allowed him freedom in her studio. He liked to watch her paint, when he had the time, and he loved everything she did.
Patience, he kept telling himself. Have patience.
He’d held onto it only by immersing himself in hiring and working with his new ranch hands. Out of the five he’d interviewed, he’d hired three, all with impeccable histories and references. And they all had logical reasons for making the change. Stoney Burke had come recommended by another Appaloosa breeder who was cutting back operations. He was older than all of them, having been in the business for many years. After a couple of weeks working with him, Killian knew he would make him the foreman of their little group. By the time the Savannah trip loomed on the horizon, he’d done just that. Luckily, everyone seemed happy with it.
He’d also tried to spend time with his brothers, although that wasn’t always easy, either. Jackson wasn’t doing too much, just hanging with Rori in her place above her computer store. Sometimes, when Killian went into town, the two would meet at Cubby’s for coffee. But Dylan was busier than a cat covering up shit getting his band camp off the ground. And Rogue, well, Rogue was the lone wolf, pretty much keeping to himself. He heard snippets that he might be dealing with some trouble, but the man never said a word about it when they saw each other. He and Kit had gone off to Colorado on a short trip to check out a shale field. And what was it he’d said in a text to all of them? That they might have cousins from Colorado? Maybe they should check that out.
He’d already made up his mind that at Christmas they needed to commit to seeing each other more often, be a real family.
They’d survived his trauma of turning the ranch over to someone else, even for a few days, and hers of shipping her painting ahead of time instead of driving up early and bringing it. He’d sprung for first class plane tickets, wanting her to be as comfortable on this trip as her nerves would let her. Now, at last, late in the morning, they were finally in Savannah. He’d managed to keep her calm on the flight by feeding her two cocktails. When he held her hand as they waited for their luggage, he felt her trembling beside him. He kept her hand in his during the cab ride to the historic inn where they were staying. He tried to think of something to say to ease her tension but decided he’d wait until they were in their room.
Killian hadn’t told her where they were staying, telling her she’d see soon enough. But he’d done some research on the Internet and wanted to make this trip very special for her. The descriptive phrase “flavor of the old South” had drawn him immediately. Maybe staying here instead of an impersonal hotel would create new memories for his wife in this place she’d fled from in such unhappiness. He was glad he’d chosen the historic Butler Inn rather than one of the large hotels. When they alighted from the cab, Lexie stood on the sidewalk for a moment, just staring at the place.
“Oh, Killian.” She clasped her hands in front of her. “What a nice surprise. I always loved this place and imagined that one day I might stay here.”
Her reaction warmed his heart.
“So I made a good choice?” he asked, putting his arm around her.
“Totally. Just totally.” She leaned into him. “You’re so good to me.”
He kissed the top of her head, wishing they were alone so he could kiss every part of her body. “Let’s go inside and register.”
Referring to itself as a bed and breakfast hotel, everything in the inn from the décor to the charm transported them back to another century. The lobby was furnished with what he’d read were replicas of eighteenth century pieces, and watercolors of old Savannah hung on the walls. A polished wood table in the center of the lobby offered coffee and tiny pastries.
“So our guests can refresh themselves while checking in,” the clerk behind the desk told them with a grin.
The room they were ushered to was large, the furniture authentic historical reproductions, and the only modern things intruding were the incredible bathroom and the television hidden in an armoire. At the earliest opportunity, he planned to fill up the giant tub and take a long soak. With his wife. Baskets of toiletries and other items had been placed strategically for their use. Everything to cater to the comfort of their guests had been thought of.
He tipped the bellman, closed the door, and turned to Lexie who just stood in the middle of the room, hands clasped together. He could tell how his choice of places to stay still excited her, but now that anxiety she carried with her seemed to have taken over again. Swallowing a sigh, he walked to her and cradled her face in his big hands.
“Darlin’, we can still turn around and go home if you want.” He made his voice deliberately soft and gentle. Even though she’d finally told him every anguished detail of what had happened here in Savannah, he guessed he hadn’t been smart enough to understand the depth to which it affected her. “There’s nothing wrong with changing your mind. In fact, maybe we’d be smart to pack up and head back to the airport.”
“No.” She shook her head. “That’s the worst thing I could do. Then everyone would know that…”
“That what, Lexie? That you’ve got better things to do with your art than waste your time with them? Hell, I’ll bet there’s a hundred galleries in New York or Boston or anywhere on the West Coast that would love to display your work.”
“You don’t understand.” She took in a deep breath and let it out slowly. “If I do that, everyone will see it as running away. The word will spread everywhere, and I won’t even be able to get a showing in the dime store.” She looked away from him. “Besides, I…”
“Besides what, darlin’?” He concentrated on keeping the anger out of his voice. “You aren’t still worried about that asshole, are you?” When she didn’t answer, he put a finger beneath her chin and tilted her face up to him. “Is that what’s going on here? You told me you were over him a long time ago.”
God! He had to stifle the wave of jealousy surging through him.
“Oh, no.” She answered him quickly. “No, no, no. I just don’t want to give him the satisfaction of…” She stopped and caught her bottom lip in her teeth.
“Of what, Lexie? Tell me?”
“Of thinking he’s won. That he’s chased me out of my art.”
“Then I think we need to stick with our program.” He brushed his lips over hers. “But only if you can figure out how to relax. You’ll pass out before the show if you don’t.”
“Okay.” She shook out her hands, a gesture he’d seen her use before when tense. “I’ll work on it. But, listen. Right now I need to check on my painting.”
He wanted to laugh except he knew how serious this was to her.
“Darlin’, you called them when you got the email it had been delivered. You called them again before we left, and you checked again in the airport while we were waiting for the luggage. I don’t think they lost it.”
She did that nibbling thing
with her lower lip that always drove him wild. He told his dick this wasn’t the time for a happy party.
“I know. I just want to make sure. Okay?”
“Okay. What would you like to do?”
“I want to take a cab over to the gallery and see it with my own eyes.”
She had explained to him that shows were held at many different types of sites. Some were in hotels, some were at event venues, and some were at private galleries if the facility was large enough. This one would be at the Rudman-Speight Gallery, one she assured him was extremely prestigious. Which of course was why she was having multiple nervous breakdowns over it.
“Then that’s what we’ll do.” He reached for her hand. “Come on. Then we’ll get some lunch.”
But Lexie wasn’t moving.
“Killian?”
Lord, now what?
“Yes, darlin’?”
“Please don’t be mad at me, but I don’t want you to see it until the show tomorrow night.”
What the hell?
“Lexie.” He called up every bit of his dwindling patience. “What the hell is going on here?”
She twisted her hands together. “It’s, uh, sort of a surprise. Please? Just let me do this one thing my way?”
He grasped her small hands in his larger ones, squashing the nervous habit and hoping he was calming her.
“I don’t know what’s going on here, Lexie, but if you want to go by yourself, I guess I’ll have to live with it.” He squeezed her hands gently. “But how about if we do this…is there a nice restaurant near where this gallery is?”
“Yes.” She nodded. “There’s a place called The Lady Adele two blocks down from the gallery. Excellent food, as a matter of fact. Good rich southern cooking.”
“That definitely sounds appealing.” In fact, his mouth was already watering. “How about if we do this. Let’s take a cab to the gallery. I won’t go inside,” he said quickly as she opened her mouth to protest. “Point me in the direction of this Adele’s place, and, when you’re done, you can walk down and meet me there. That work?”