“Maybe it’s a proximity thing,” she said.
“You’re suggesting that I only want you because you’re here and looking sexy as hell in an old T-shirt?”
She glanced down at the T-shirt. “Or maybe you’re under the influence of alcohol,” she allowed. “How many beers did you have?”
“Just one.”
“You’re a cheap date.”
“And easy,” he promised.
She smiled at that. “You’re going to let me have my way with you?”
“You can have me any way you want, anytime,” he promised.
Her speculative gleam shifted to something else when a ringing sound emanated from the iPad on the counter.
“It’s a FaceTime call,” Brooke told him. “Probably Lori calling me back.”
She’d reached out to her friend earlier, wanting to tell her about the events of the previous night and seek her advice on what to do next. Since then, Patrick had answered that question for her. Of course, Lori couldn’t know that, and Brooke’s message had asked her to call whenever she got in, because Brooke had anticipated being home alone all night.
“Don’t you want to talk to her?” he asked, when Brooke made no move to answer.
“I do, but...”
“I promise to stay hidden from the camera,” he said, anticipating her concern.
So she reached for her iPad and connected the call.
After a brief exchange of pleasantries, she listened for several minutes as her friend told her about the fabulous day she’d spent with Matt, who’d just popped out to pick up pizza for a late snack. Then Lori stopped talking midsentence and narrowed her gaze on the screen. “Oh. My. God,” she said. “You’ve had sex.”
“What?” Brooke tried to feign ignorance, as if she had no idea why her friend had jumped to such a conclusion, but she suspected that her burning cheeks had already confirmed Lori’s suspicion.
“Don’t you dare try to deny it. I’ve seen that sleepy, satisfied look in your eyes in my own mirror to know what puts it there,” Lori said. “Not to mention the redness on your throat that suggests up close and personal attention from a man’s bristly jaw.”
“Okay, yes,” she finally admitted, aware that Patrick was within earshot but not daring to look at him. “I had sex.”
“Really good sex?” her friend asked hopefully.
Brooke felt her cheeks burn hotter.
“Tell me,” Lori urged. “And don’t spare any of the juicy details.”
“I can’t. Not now,” she said.
“Why not?” And then her friend’s eyes grew even wider. “Oh. My. God,” she said again. “He’s still there, isn’t he? Whoever he is.”
Brooke closed her eyes on a sigh. “Yes, he’s still here.”
“Who is it? Anyone I know? Can you turn the camera so I can see him?”
“Not telling, maybe and no,” she said, answering each of the questions in turn.
“Okay, don’t tell me,” Lori said. “But don’t be surprised when I come for a visit to meet your new boy toy.”
“He’s not—It’s not—” She huffed out a breath.
Her friend grinned, obviously amused by Brooke’s flustration.
“Pizza’s here!” Matt called from off-camera.
Lori twisted her head to respond to the summons. “I’m coming.” Then she returned her attention to the screen and, with a wink, said to Brooke, “And hopefully you’ll be saying the same thing in short order.”
Thankfully she cut the connection before her friend heard Patrick choke on a laugh.
Chapter Twelve
“Sneaking out of bed when a man’s still sleeping could give him a complex, you know,” Patrick said, squinting against the bright light that speared through the gap between Brooke’s bedroom curtains.
“Obviously you’re not sleeping, or we wouldn’t be having this conversation,” Brooke responded, as she found her discarded T-shirt on the floor and tugged it over her head.
“I’d like to be sleeping,” he said.
She yanked the curtains together to shut out the blinding light.
“With you,” he clarified.
She shook her head regretfully. “Brendan’s going to be home in a few hours and I have a million errands to run before then, including grocery shopping so I have some food in the house to feed my child.”
He sighed. “I’ve got things to do, too, but nothing that would be nearly as much fun as staying in bed with you.”
“I’m sorry,” she said and touched her lips to his. “And thank you.”
“You’re welcome. But why are you thanking me?”
“Because this weekend was the first time I’ve been away from Brendan for so long, and I thought I’d hate every minute of it. But, thanks to you, I didn’t.”
“Your flattery is overwhelming,” he said dryly.
“I didn’t think you needed me to further pump up your already inflated ego.”
“I should have stopped with the ‘you’re welcome,’” he decided.
She brushed her lips against his again. “Thank you, too, for the orgasms.”
He grinned. “Anytime.”
But she shook her head again.
“That’s right—you’re done with me now,” he said, only half joking.
“I have a child,” she reminded him.
“I have no desire or intention to compete with your son for your attention,” he assured her. “But in addition to being a veterinarian and a mom, you are an amazing and sensual woman, Brooke. And while I understand that Brendan comes first, that doesn’t mean you can’t make time for other things or other people who matter. Including yourself.”
“Between my job and my son, I don’t have a lot of time for anything—or anyone—else,” she confided.
“I’m not asking for more than you’re willing to give,” he said. “Just that you think about me, and when you have some time, you consider spending it with me.”
“That sounds rather vague.” And, she had to admit, infinitely reasonable.
“Would you prefer that I made irrational demands so that you’d feel better about refusing them?”
“Of course not,” she denied. “But what if a couple of weeks go by and I haven’t managed to find any time for you?”
“I do have my own life and responsibilities,” he reminded her, pushing back the covers and rising out of the bed, completely unconcerned about his nakedness.
“I know that,” she said, trying not to stare—and failing happily. “I also know you’re accustomed to a...busy social calendar.” She flushed a little.
“Not only have you been listening to gossip, it’s outdated.” He gathered up his clothes and began to dress. “Maybe I’ve dated a lot of women in the past, but since I bought the Silver Star, I’ve spent most of my nights there. Alone.”
“You had a lot of work to do, updating and renovating the property,” she pointed out. “But that’s all done now, so you’ll have more free time on your hands.”
“And how else would I fill that time except by seducing all the single women in town?” he asked dryly.
Now her cheeks flamed. “You’re deliberately misunderstanding me.”
“I don’t think I’m misunderstanding anything, and I don’t know whether to be pissed that you have such a low opinion of me or that you don’t think more of yourself to trust I’d want to be with you.”
Either way, he sounded pretty pissed.
And maybe he had a right to be.
Maybe she had judged him unfairly.
But this fling or affair or whatever he wanted to call it was outside her realm of experience. She didn’t know what to say or do the “morning after” because she didn’t do mornings after.
“So what do you want me to say? Is this where I’m supposed to apo
logize?” she asked him now.
“No,” he said. “I want you to figure out what you want. When you do, you can let me know.”
* * *
Brendan was happy to be home and eager to share all the details of his exciting weekend. He’d obviously enjoyed the trip and entertained everyone with his chatter throughout the meal Brooke had prepared for their return.
“So how was your weekend?” Sandra asked, when Brendan had finally tired himself out from talking and gone into the living room to watch TV with Grandpa.
“It was good.”
“I hope you didn’t spend every minute at the clinic.”
She shook her head. “Only Saturday. The rest of the weekend was fairly quiet.”
“So what did you do with your time otherwise?”
She could have replied in any number of ways that would have answered her mother’s question without telling her the whole truth, but she really needed some womanly advice right now. “I spent some of it at the Silver Star. With Patrick.”
“Oh.” Her mom considered this revelation for a moment, then nodded. “Well, then. Good for you.”
Brooke didn’t know what kind of response she’d expected from her mother, but she was a little surprised by her easy acceptance. “You don’t think I’m making a mistake?”
“Why? Because you’re finally taking steps toward having a life of your own aside from your career and your child?”
“Brendan will always be my number one priority,” she was quick to assure her mom.
“And that’s okay,” Sandra said. “But he shouldn’t be the focus of your whole life. That’s not healthy for you and not fair to him.”
Brooke frowned at the subtle admonishment. “I feel as if I owe him at least that much.”
“Why?” her mom asked, then immediately guessed the answer to her own question. “Because he has only one parent?”
She nodded. “I know he lucked out in the grandparent department, but I’m not sure that makes up for the absence of a father in a little boy’s life.”
“It’s not your fault that you fell in love with a man who didn’t want the responsibility of being a father,” Sandra said gently.
“Maybe not the first time,” Brooke agreed, having long ago come to terms with the fact that she’d been too young and naive to know any better when she’d fallen for Xander Davis. “But what if I’m doing the same thing again?”
“Are you telling me that you’re in love with Patrick Stafford?” Sandra asked cautiously.
“No,” she immediately denied. “But...I do have feelings for him. And the more time I spend with him, the stronger those feelings seem to get, making me worry that I could fall in love with him.”
“Falling in love should be cause for celebration, not concern,” her mom pointed out.
Maybe. In a perfect world.
But in Brooke’s imperfect world, opening up her heart had only led to heartache, and it wasn’t an experience she was eager to repeat. Especially if it meant risking her son, too.
* * *
Thankfully, with Brendan home, life returned to normal for Brooke. She easily fell back into her usual routines, almost as if the two glorious nights she’d spent with Patrick had never happened.
Monday was her usual full day at the clinic. Tuesday she was occupied with fieldwork in the morning and had surgeries in the afternoon, but she finished early enough that she was actually home by the time Brendan got off the bus from school.
On Wednesday, Brooke spent the better part of the day beside her dad at Ambling Acres, each of them up to their respective elbows in bovine butts, determining which cows were pregnant and which were in heat and ready to be bred. It was hardly a glamorous job, but she always enjoyed being in the field with her father. Though she’d studied hard and graduated near the top of her class, she knew there were a lot of things that could only be learned from experience, and Bruce Langley had close to forty years’ experience.
On Thursday, she visited a local sheep farm to administer routine vaccinations, after which she was invited to share lunch with the farmer and his wife. She considered the personal connection between vet and landowner to be one of the perks of a rural practice and was happy to accept. On her way back to the clinic, she impulsively turned into the drive of the Silver Star, only to discover that Patrick’s truck wasn’t there. He’d told her to let him know when she’d figured out what she wanted, but she found herself wondering now if he might have already given up on hearing from her.
Friday morning after breakfast, she took Brendan over to her parents’ house to wish them a happy anniversary and give them a gift certificate to The Home Station, where she’d made a six o’clock reservation for them to celebrate the occasion. Hugs and kisses were exchanged all around. Then Brooke hustled her son outside again to ensure he didn’t miss the school bus.
“But what are we gonna do for dinner for the ’versary?” Brendan asked, apparently having only now realized that his grandparents had plans that didn’t include him.
“I thought we could go out to eat tonight, too,” she told him. “But probably somewhere a little less fancy.”
“Jo’s?” he asked hopefully.
“We can go to Jo’s,” she agreed.
“Yay!” he enthused, with a celebratory fist pump.
“And after dinner, we can go see a movie, if you want.”
“The-new-Star-Wars-is-playing,” he said, rushing the words together in his excitement.
She chuckled. “I guess that’s a yes to the movie?”
“I’ve been waiting to see it for-ev-er,” he told her.
“The movie only came out before Christmas, so if three months is for-ev-er, I marvel over the fact that you survived.”
He giggled at that and threw his arms around her to give her a quick hug as the yellow bus came to a stop at the end of the driveway.
She kissed the top of his head—or at least the pom-pom on his hat. “Have a good day, sunshine.”
“Love you, Mom.”
Though the words had become a part of their morning routine, they never failed to fill her with joy, and she was smiling as she watched him step through the folding door. He made his way down the center aisle of the bus to his usual seat, then turned to the window and offered her a happy wave.
As she drove to the clinic, she found herself reflecting on her parents’ marriage. Growing up, she’d taken it for granted that when she was ready to settle down, she’d meet the perfect man, fall in love, get married and start a family. And though her life had taken a different direction, she hadn’t entirely given up hope that she might one day meet a man who would love her and her son as much as her father loved her mother and their children.
Or maybe she’d already met him.
She shook her head, immediately dismissing the thought.
Patrick Stafford was definitely not the type of man about whom she should be imagining happily-ever-after fantasies. Sexual fantasies, sure. And in the five nights since he’d left her bed, she’d indulged in more than a few of those. But it was time to get her head and her heart out of the clouds and back into the real world.
Because despite his request that she think about him, which she’d done every night when she went to bed alone and more than a few times throughout each day, he’d given no indication that he’d been thinking about her. Not one phone call or even a text message throughout the whole week. And the silence was a little disconcerting.
Was he respecting her boundaries, abiding by her request not to turn their weekend tryst into anything more? Was he waiting for her to make the next move, as he’d encouraged her to do? Or had he already moved on?
And why did the latter possibility leave her feeling so empty inside?
* * *
It took every ounce of willpower Patrick possessed not to pick up the phone and call Bro
oke during the week, but he’d made it clear what he wanted and left the ball in her court. Unfortunately, she’d given no indication that she intended to return to the game, and he was admittedly a little disappointed.
“Why are you in such a grumpy mood?” Jenna asked, when she stopped by the ranch Friday afternoon.
“I’m not grumpy. I’m busy,” he told her.
She didn’t take the hint.
“Is this about the sexy vet?” she asked instead.
He scowled. “What are you talking about?”
“Sarah told me that you’ve got the hots for the new vet who was taking care of Ranger,” she said. “And now that his injury is healed, there’s no reason for her to stop by every day.”
“The important part of that is that Ranger’s injury is healed,” he said.
“I know it’s a little old-fashioned,” she continued, as if he hadn’t spoken, “but if you want to see her, you could call her and invite her to go on a date.”
“Is that why you’re hanging around here—because you don’t have a date tonight?”
“I could have made plans if I’d wanted to,” she said, just a little defensively. “And I’ll bet, if you bothered to scroll through the contact list in your phone, you could, too.”
“I’ve got things to do around here tonight,” he said.
“What kinds of things?” she challenged.
“Are you offering to help?” he asked her.
“No,” she said. “I’m calling out your obvious lie.”
He scowled at that.
“Look around, Patrick. You’ve done an incredible job with this ranch. But you’re done. Everything is ready. You just need to give Devin the word to make the website live.”
“It’s not really that simple,” he said.
“Of course it is,” she said. “But something’s holding you back, and I can’t figure out if it’s a fear of success or failure.”
“Why would I be afraid of success?”
“That’s a good question,” she said and waited for him to come up with an answer.
He sighed. “Maybe I am a little worried that, after spending so much time and money on this ranch, it might turn out that Mom and Dad were right,” he acknowledged.
A Chance for the Rancher Page 14
