A light breeze shook the curtains. It was a Sunday afternoon and they were in bed together. Trixie and Lydia were both down for naps and they’d taken advantage of it. Luke had taken the boys to the pool in Grand for a swim. It was Jake’s day off, so Zack would have to get up and go check on the milk cows in a few hours.
A heaviness in the air hinted at rain, but so far, they’d had very little all summer. He said it was good for the ranch’s bottom line. The Wagging Tongue’s irrigation system gave them an edge with their beef cattle, because cattle didn’t eat when they didn’t have enough water, meaning their herd was healthy. They’d gotten in a good crop of hay, too. The drought had driven those prices sky high. Horse breeders paid top dollar for quality.
The bedroom ceiling sloped on one side, creating a half wall with a small door that led to a narrow crawlspace. The room was hot, so they’d kicked the sheets to the floor. Zack was on his stomach, his head resting on one crooked elbow, with his eyes closed. She sat upright beside him and his hand rested on her thigh. She’d never imagined the aftereffects of intimacy could be even more satisfying than sex. Zack was happy simply being with her.
She smoothed her palm up and down the length of his back, from the nape of his neck to the bunched muscles defining his buttocks. Physical labor had added a fair bit of bulk to his upper body. He was such a contradiction. It was hard to imagine him as an accountant, and yet he loved that work, too. He said ranch work gave him a chance to shut his brain down and give it a rest.
Right now, he had something on his mind. She waited for it. He’d tell her when he was ready.
He opened his eyes. They were incredibly, heart-stoppingly blue. Serious, too.
“I love you,” he said.
Her hand stilled. She couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t think. She couldn’t speak, either.
His fingers tightened on her thigh, his grip steady. “Passing out wasn’t the reaction I’d hoped for. I just thought you should know.”
Zack wasn’t a hard man to figure out. She’d known. A part of her wanted to grab onto his declaration and claim it as hers by right, hugging it tight. Another part whispered, “He doesn’t care about your money. What else do you have to offer?”
A third part, previously unheard from, spoke up. “Quit being a mouse. You offer him the same things he offers you.”
All it took was the warm feel of his hand against her bare skin to make her believe things between them were solid. Happiness squirmed under his touch.
I love you, too.
Still, the words wouldn’t form. Once she said them, there’d be no taking them back.
“I feel the same way about you,” she said.
He caught hold of her leg and yanked her from her sitting position so that she sprawled on her back on the bed. He leaned over her, biceps bulging as they supported his weight, the coarse hairs of his knees tickling the insides of her thighs. That was all it took to turn her thoughts in another direction.
His eyes filled with laughter. “Sure you do… You can’t even say it.”
She dragged her thoughts back. “Of course I can.”
“Go ahead, then,” he invited. His eyebrows lifted in challenge.
“No,” she said. “Now you’re just being silly.”
He kissed her. He was laughing openly now, not at all bothered by her inability to fully commit.
“I believe you do feel the same way about me,” he said, with an arrogant confidence that should have been annoying but instead was endearing. “I also understand that you’re scared. I didn’t tell you I love you so you’d say it back. I told you because I couldn’t not say it. It was getting too hard to keep to myself.”
Her heart spun in her chest. How could anyone not love him when he said things like that?
A phone buzzed. They both ignored it.
“You should also know that I’m going to marry you,” he continued, with more of that same, breathtaking confidence. “We’ll set a date as soon as you’re ready to tell me you love me, too.”
All of the tension building inside her disappeared. Every time he started making plans, and she got nervous, he flipped things around and placed the final decision for them back in her lap.
Did she want to marry him, someday?
Was she willing to try it again?
“It’s not a question of when I’ll be ready to tell you,” she said, “as it is when I’ll be ready to tell my uncle about you. I hope you’re in favor of prenups because he’ll have one for you to sign.”
“I’m good with that. It’s not like I’d know how to run a preschool anyway, so you can keep it,” Zack said.
He thought everything she owned was invested in it. He also thought she was kidding. Before she introduced him to her uncle, she’d have to prepare him. Right now, however, she liked that money wasn’t an issue between them. He was happy with his plans to build the two neighboring ranches into something he and his brothers could share.
He really was all about family.
“I’d sign one, too,” she said.
“No wife of mine will be signing a prenup. Half of nothing is yours, baby.”
He’d give her half of everything when he had it, too. She didn’t doubt it. He was everything she wished her first marriage had been. When the time finally came to tell her uncle about him, she’d have no worries at all.
He glanced at the clock on her bedside table. “I have to get back to work soon.”
She stroked the thick, corded muscles of his braced arms, then slid one hand between their two bodies. His stomach contracted. He was hard again.
“Don’t go yet,” she said. They didn’t get enough intimate alone time together and they were both eager to take advantage of it when they did.
He lowered his forehead to hers. “Make it worth my while to stay.”
For an answer, she guided him into position, inner muscles already quivering in anticipation of him, and wrapped her legs around his hips.
“A few more minutes won’t make any difference,” he said, easing inside her. “I can’t very well walk away and leave a woman unsatisfied. My conscience would never allow it.”
*
“What’s going on with you and the new neighbor?” Jake asked.
They were cleaning out the three upright beef freezers in the storage barn next to the dairy. Packages of plastic-wrapped meat, some of it left over from last year, some of it bear meat from a nuisance Luke had shot and killed, were stacked on a long folding table.
The Wagging Tongue Ranch didn’t sell meat directly to market, other than a few neighbors, but twice a year they hosted a ranch tour that was their chance to open up sales to the public. Zack had dug through their mother’s paperwork for the ranch’s insurance policy to confirm they could continue to do this without being sued. The bear meat couldn’t be sold, so that would go in the freezer they kept for personal use.
He pulled out the glass shelves and set them aside for scrubbing with baking soda and a chlorine and water bleach mixture. He thought before answering Jake’s question, unwilling to add to his brother’s stress.
Jake was doing okay with Lacey—from what Zack could tell—but the kids were an added responsibility that kept him up at night. Plus, Luke’s life was a mess. They both worried about that.
Zack had spoken to Mara at Finn’s dance lesson one morning, however, and while he wasn’t convinced Mara was right for Luke, he did concede she wasn’t wrong, either. Luke needed someone unafraid of dealing with his intellect. The guy thought way too much.
Posey and Luke had a lot in common in that respect. She wasn’t on Luke’s level when it came to intelligence—she was a normal human being, after all—but she was smart and tended to overthink everything, too. She was also suspicious. The asshole ex-husband could take credit for that. Zack could picture Posey in a coffee shop with her book, oblivious to the world, all sweet, appealing innocence. She’d have been a target, for sure.
The ex-husband had stolen that innocence from he
r. Zack would love nothing more than to punch the guy in the face for it, too.
So, because he didn’t want to worry his brother, Zack didn’t tell Jake he’d more or less asked Posey to marry him. That could wait until she said yes.
Instead, he told Jake about her ex-husband.
“That explains that, then,” Jake said when he was done.
“Explains what?”
His brother shrugged. So that was where Mac picked up the habit. He copied everything Jake did. “Why she looks like a kicked puppy.”
“A kicked puppy?” That wasn’t Zack’s impression of her at all. It certainly wasn’t how she looked after sex, with her skin flushed and her eyes soft. She looked happy and contented.
He planned to keep her that way.
Jake might be the strong, silent type, but he was also perceptive. “If she left the guy because he shook a baby and not because he beat her, then she’s still beating herself up for not leaving him sooner.”
Jake was probably right. Posey wasn’t to blame for any of it, but she wouldn’t see it that way.
“What would you do to a man who shook Lydia?” Jake persisted.
No need to think about that. “His body would never be found.”
“Now picture yourself as a woman who can’t hide a body. You’ve got either impotent rage or self-loathing. Possibly a combination of both. In Posey’s case, which do you think it is?”
She didn’t have an ounce of rage in her body.
But Zack didn’t see her as being filled with self-loathing, either. Perhaps in her case, the two emotions canceled each other out.
Which left a fairy princess who cried under the stars and ran as far as she could to remove herself from a situation she couldn’t control.
Exactly as Dan had warned.
Zack, however, was putting his faith in Posey. She gave the appearance of helplessness, but underneath, she was strong. “I think she’s gotten past the anger and the guilt and she’s put her marriage behind her. She’s looking forward.”
Jake dipped a cloth in the warm, chlorinated water. He began scrubbing the inside of one of the freezers. “Good for her, then. However, let’s say she’s put it behind her but he hasn’t. She left him, didn’t she? Is this a mess you want to involve yourself in?”
He was getting relationship advice from Jake, of all people.
“A better question is whether or not this is a mess he should have started,” Zack replied. Posey wasn’t alone anymore. She wasn’t helpless. He’d be happy to help drive that point home.
Jake wasn’t dumb. “You know your friend Andy? The one the army thinks should be allowed to carry a weapon? That girl doesn’t have one lick of common sense. She was always getting herself into bad situations. Yet, every time she got herself into trouble, you’d be right there, bailing her out.”
“Posey’s not Andy.”
“Maybe not, but your pattern’s the behavior I’m trying to point out. You like to take charge. Posey’s put a lot of miles between them, but if her ex-husband does happen to show up to cause problems, she’s going to call you,” he said. “And under no circumstances are you to go after him alone. You call me or Dan. The ground’s too dry to be burying bodies and you’re way too pretty for jail.”
“Burying isn’t the only way to get rid of a body,” Zack said. “But point taken.”
Jake thumped his back with the wet cloth, leaving a damp patch between his shoulder blades. “Good. I’m glad we had this little talk. Now shut up and help me get these freezers cleaned before the meat thaws.”
When they were finished, Jake looked at the time. “It’s getting too late to cook. Everyone’s been working hard. Why don’t we round up Luke and the kids and take them to the Grille for supper?”
Jake’s suggestion sounded casual enough, but they both knew it wasn’t. The last time the McGregors had been to the Grille as a family, Luke had earned his PhD and they were celebrating. All eyes would be on them and Jake hated that.
Zack tossed his cloth in the empty bucket. “It’s a great idea. The kids aren’t going to learn table manners if they eat nowhere but our kitchen.”
Jake called ahead for a reservation. When they walked in, it was still too early for the evening crowd. The restaurant wasn’t empty, but it wasn’t full either.
It was higher end than one might expect, given its name and location. The tables bore white linen, crystal glasses, bone china, and candles. The Khourys, however, made accommodations for families. They’d already pulled two tables together, swapped the china for earthenware, and dusted off one of the highchairs they kept for their tinier patrons.
Allison Khoury, one of the owners, rushed over. She’d been their mother’s friend and they’d known her forever. In her late forties, Allison had long, blue-black, glossy hair and cocoa-colored eyes. She had the leggy, mature figure of a woman who’d never had to give a damn about her weight when she was younger and saw no reason to start now.
She hugged each of the brothers in turn, then shook hands with Mac and Finn. She smiled at Lydia, who was holding Jake’s leg with one fist and clutching his finger with the other. Lydia wore a frilly pink dress with matching panties to cover her diaper. Zack had dressed her. The color, for some reason, pushed all of Luke’s buttons. It was payback for all of the jokes over Zack’s inability to change diapers.
“Tonight’s dinner is chicken,” Allison said to the kids. “You like chicken, yes?”
“I like chicken nuggets,” Finn said.
Allison didn’t miss a beat. “Then you will have chicken nuggets. The cook will even make you French fries to go with them.”
“He’ll eat what everyone else is having,” Jake said.
Allison nodded. “You’ll all have chicken nuggets and fries, then.”
“Can I file a protest?” Zack asked. “I want barbecue chicken and the tabbouleh.”
“What’s tabbouleh?” Mac asked.
“It’s what you’re having instead of fries,” Jake replied.
“Are we drawing straws for diaper duty?” Luke asked. “Because the end result of that passing through a toddler’s digestive system isn’t going to be pretty.”
“Why don’t you let me decide on the children’s menu for you?” Allison suggested.
“Our first night out as a family is already a resounding success,” Jake said to no one.
Finn perked up at that. Green eyes lit with hope. “Are my mom and daddy coming, too?”
Awkward silence descended.
Then, Jake recovered. “No, Finn. They’re not.”
“But,” Allison interjected, “your mom has been here plenty of times. She used to help in the kitchen when she was in high school. Would you like me to show you where she worked? We can ask the cook about your nuggets and fries.”
Finn nodded. Allison took his hand. She spoke to Mac. “Would you like to come, too?”
Mac looked at Jake.
“Go ahead,” Jake said to him.
Zack expected Mac to refuse. Instead, he followed Allison and Finn.
Jake deposited Lydia in the high chair. The brothers all took a seat at the table.
“I asked Mara to marry me,” Luke said.
Zack and Jake stared at him.
“I thought you were engaged to Denise,” Jake said.
“We split up back in May.”
Zack’s stomach took on the same queasiness it normally reserved for roller coasters, long car rides, and noxious smells. He knew something about Luke and Denise’s relationship that Jake didn’t, but it wasn’t his secret to reveal. Not even September yet, and their first months of the year they’d committed to had gone all to hell. When had they stopped paying attention to each other’s lives?
“Dumbass.” He leaned across the table and bounced the heel of his palm off Luke’s forehead. “I get that Mara is hot, but you don’t have to propose to a woman every time you get laid. Try thinking with your head for a change.”
“How’s Posey?” Luke asked.
>
“That’s enough,” Jake said sharply. People were watching. “Don’t blame Finn if tonight is a disaster.”
“We’re supposed to stand by and watch Dr. McGregor, boy genius, ruin his whole life?” Zack demanded.
Luke had so much going for him—except, it turned out, common sense. He could have at least kept this news to himself.
That was what Zack had done.
Jake handed Lydia his set of keys to play with. “We’re three grown men who can make our own choices, no matter how dumb they are. You both should know better than to start a fight in public.”
The rest of the evening proved anticlimactic in comparison. Finn knocked over a glass of wine. Lydia tried out the swear word she’d learned. Finn echoed it. Loudly. And through it all, Mac and Luke sat in silence.
Jake took Lydia and Mac home in his truck. Luke and Zack took Finn in Luke’s car.
The drive would have been silent if not for Finn.
By the time they pulled into the yard, Zack was ready to concede he maybe had no right to criticize Luke’s judgment, no matter how bad it might be. Once Lydia and Finn were in bed, and Mac was ensconced in his room with a book on horse health, he went in search of his brother.
Luke lived in the annex a McGregor forefather had added onto the house eons ago. He kept his computers here so Finn and Lydia couldn’t get their fingers on them. He supervised Mac’s video game habit, which was a little like hiring the wolf to watch over the sheep, because Luke lost track of time when he played, too.
Zack knocked on the annex door and walked through. Luke sat in a chair at the rickety table another long-departed relative had clearly abandoned. The window of the tiny kitchenette overlooked the road and the Tongue River beyond.
“I came to say I’m sorry,” he said.
Luke looked up from the papers he was grading onscreen. He pushed black-framed glasses higher up the bridge of his nose.
“Don’t worry about it,” he said. “I know why you’re concerned.”
The Rancher's Proposal (The Montana McGregor Brothers Book 3) Page 13