It was both an unexpected and sweet gesture, and it made her realize how much she’d missed out on by not dating in high school and then falling for the wrong guy in college. Maybe it was her inexperience that made her susceptible to Xander’s seduction, or maybe he’d been every bit as charming as she’d imagined, but she’d fallen hard and fast, and then she’d fallen into his bed.
Looking back, it was hard to pinpoint the reasons for her infatuation with Xander. During their whirlwind courtship, he’d never shown up at her door with food just because he thought she might have had a difficult day or cooked for her when she’d had to work late on an assignment. He’d never even taken her to a movie. And while those were all little things, they added up to a lot.
The fact that Xander had never done any of those things proved that she’d devoted far too much time and energy to a relationship that was a lot of nothing. But of course Xander’s biggest failing was that he’d never shown any interest in his child, instead choosing to drop out of her life before their baby was even born.
She’d been holding herself back from Patrick because she’d thought he was like Xander, but she realized now that any similarities were only on the surface. Yes, both men were handsome and charming and had turned her inside out with their kisses, but that was where the similarities ended.
Determined not to be a prisoner of her past mistakes any longer, Brooke shifted in her chair and let her cheek rest against Patrick’s shoulder. He turned his head and touched his lips to her temple, and she felt herself teetering precariously on the edge of something scary and unknown.
Maybe she was walking a dangerous path, but with Patrick at her side, she couldn’t help but want to take the next step.
* * *
“That was totally awesome,” Brendan declared, as they were exiting the theater. “What did you think, Mr. Patrick?”
“I think you’re right,” he agreed.
“Mom?” Brendan prompted.
“Totally awesome,” she echoed.
But her tone lacked the enthusiasm of her words, making Patrick suspect that something was bothering her. And he thought he had an idea what it might be.
For more than seven years, Brooke had been a single mom. During that time, it had been just her and Brendan—and her parents, but Sandra and Bruce Langley had defined roles in their grandson’s life. Patrick was a new factor in the equation, and it was going to take some time to balance things out.
Until then, he suspected there would be a lot of one steps forward and two steps back, because Brooke was going to need some time to get used to sharing her son’s attention and affection.
Though he was parked on the opposite side of the parking lot, Patrick walked with Brooke and Brendan to her truck.
“Thanks, Mom,” Brendan said, as she buckled him into his booster seat. “I had a great ’versary tonight.”
She kissed the tip of his nose. “You’re welcome.”
“I had a great time, too,” Patrick said, when she’d closed Brendan’s door.
She managed a weary smile. “Good night, Patrick.”
“That’s it?” he asked. “You’re not going to invite me to come over for a cup of coffee?”
“It’s late.”
“It’s not that late. And I’m wired from all the sugar I had during the movie.”
“That’s what happens when you add gummy bears and Milk Duds to your popcorn,” she said.
“But it was good, wasn’t it?”
“It was...interesting,” she said, her tone softening a little.
“Coffee?” he prompted again.
She sighed. “One cup.”
He followed her home and pulled into the driveway behind her. As he got out of his truck, she was opening the back door of her vehicle.
“What are you doing?” he asked, as she started to lift her son.
“He’s asleep,” she said in a whisper.
“I can see that. But you can’t be planning to carry him up all those stairs,” he said incredulously.
“I do it all the time,” she told him.
“Not tonight,” Patrick said. “I’ll take him.”
“I can manage,” she protested, then huffed out a breath as he easily lifted the slumbering child into his arms.
“You might want to go ahead and unlock the door,” he suggested.
So she did, and turned on the hall light so Patrick could find his way to the boy’s bedroom, where she folded back the covers on her son’s bed.
Patrick gently laid Brendan down on the mattress, then stood back as Brooke removed his coat and boots, pulled up the covers and kissed his forehead. The effortlessness of the routine confirmed that it was indeed something she did all the time, and reminded him that, despite his growing feelings for the single mom and her son, they shared a bond that he couldn’t compete with or—thanks to his dysfunctional upbringing—even understand.
“Regular or decaf?” Brooke asked, as he followed her into the kitchen.
“Regular,” he said, making an effort to shake off his melancholy.
She selected a pod from the basket beside the brewer and popped it into the machine.
“So what did Brendan mean when he said he had a great anniversary tonight?” he asked, as she passed the mug of coffee to him.
“Oh, we went out tonight because my parents were out celebrating their thirty-eighth anniversary.”
“Thirty-eight years—that’s impressive,” he noted.
She nodded. “And even after all those years of marriage, and more than four decades together, they still enjoy hanging out,” she said, sounding just a little bit wistful.
“You want the same thing,” he realized.
“Someday,” she agreed.
He wondered why the admission didn’t make him panic. Of course, “someday” suggested a future event, and she’d given no indication that she was thinking about a future with him. Heck, she’d even hesitated before inviting him to a two-and-a-half-hour movie.
“You were lucky to live with their example,” he said. “My parents wouldn’t inspire anyone to matrimony. More than once, I’ve heard my mom remark that she only ever planned to have two kids—Jenna only happened because she and my dad were more focused on their reconciliation than birth control.
“Considering how many times my parents separated and got back together over the years, I’d probably have a dozen more siblings except my dad had a vasectomy before Jenna was born.”
“But your parents are still together?” she asked.
“They’re together again,” he said. “They were married for sixteen years. Then they divorced and lived apart for nine years. During that time, they each had several other relationships before reconciling and remarrying ten years ago.”
“Still, it must say something about their feelings for one another that they found their way back together,” she ventured.
“Maybe,” he said, sounding dubious. But then his thoughts moved on to something else, and he smiled. “Their anniversary is in the fall, and my mom wanted a big celebration this past year. Somehow she convinced Jenna to plan the party—or maybe Jenna volunteered.” He shrugged. “Either way, my parents gave her the guest list and told her what they wanted in the way of food and drink, and left Jenna in charge of the rest.”
“What went wrong?” Brooke asked.
“That depends on who tells the story,” he said. “From Jenna’s perspective, everything went according to plan. From my parents’ perspective, she ruined their thirty-fifth anniversary.
“Because they were expecting a thirty-fifth anniversary party, counting from their first wedding, but all the banners and balloons and table decorations Jenna ordered had the number ten on them, which was the actual number of years since their second marriage. As much as our parents might want to pretend that they’ve been happy together
since the beginning, the rest of us haven’t forgotten the nasty fights inevitably followed by days—or sometimes weeks—of icy silence.”
“Note to self—don’t ever mess with Jenna Stafford,” Brooke remarked.
He grinned. “Nobody ever does more than once.”
Though he was tempted to linger, he swallowed the last mouthful of the one cup of coffee she’d promised him, set down the empty mug and stood up.
“I really did have a good time with you and Brendan tonight,” he told her.
“I did, too,” she said, walking him to the door.
“So...can I call you sometime?”
That earned him a smile. “Absolutely.”
“Good.”
“You can even kiss me good-night, if you want.”
So he kissed her good-night.
And it was a really long, really great kiss, after which he drove back to the ranch with his window down in a futile effort to cool the heat in his blood.
* * *
There, finally, was the sign Melissa had been looking for.
Not a figurative signal from the universe, but an actual painted-on-wood, secured-in-the-ground sign announcing Silver Star Vacation Ranch.
She turned into the long drive, grateful and relieved to know that she’d arrived. And after more than twelve hours on the road, she was eager to park her car and stretch her legs.
Or maybe stretch her whole body, preferably on a soft bed.
“I didn’t think you were going to be here until tomorrow,” Patrick said, opening his arms to her.
Though she hadn’t seen her cousin in almost two years, he hadn’t changed a bit. Well, except for the fact that he’d traded his designer suits for cowboy boots. But when his familiar arms wrapped around her, she felt the unexpected sting of tears behind her eyes as she hugged him back, grateful for his warmth and his strength and especially his welcome.
“I decided to drive right through,” she told him.
“That’s a long drive,” he remarked, a hint of concern in his voice.
“I was eager to get here.”
“Well, welcome to the Silver Star,” he said, spreading his arms wide to encompass the land and buildings around him.
She turned in a slow circle to survey every direction. “Toto, I have a feeling we’re not in Seattle anymore,” she murmured, paraphrasing Dorothy.
“There’s no yellow brick road, but that flagstone path leads to the house and a fresh pot of coffee.”
“That sounds great,” she said, popping the trunk of her car. “Let me just grab my bags and—”
“I’ve got ’em,” he said, effortlessly lifting them out.
“Not that I don’t appreciate the help, but aren’t I supposed to be working for you?”
He grinned. “I’ll show you around the ranch today and shackle you in the kitchen tomorrow.”
“Seems fair,” she said and followed him to the house.
“It’s pretty isolated out here,” he said, sounding almost apologetic. “Town isn’t too far, but there’s not a lot to do there, either.”
“It’s great,” she said. “Really. I meant what I said about wanting a change.”
She tried to sound positive and upbeat, but apparently she didn’t quite succeed because Patrick’s next question was “Anything you want to talk about?”
“Nope.”
He held her gaze for a long moment, as if trying to decide if he should press for more details. But he finally shrugged, and she let out the breath she’d been holding.
“In that case, I’ll show you to your room.”
Chapter Fourteen
Since Brendan had discovered that Patrick had a dog—despite the rancher’s repeated denials of ownership—he wanted to visit the Silver Star every day to play with Princess. Brooke frequently gave in to his requests because it gave her an excuse to see Patrick and occasionally sneak away with him to steal a few kisses. And while she was enjoying spending time with the rancher, she was careful to keep the nature of their relationship a secret from her son for fear that it would lead to expectations of the three of them becoming a family.
When they arrived at the ranch Thursday afternoon, Patrick wasn’t anywhere to be found and Stormy was absent from the paddock, so she assumed he’d taken the animal out for some exercise. Princess was outside today, too, exploring in the sunshine. But as soon as Brendan called to her, she came running—or waddling, considering the girth of her swollen belly.
Though Princess was moving more slowly these days, she still loved playing catch or tug-of-war, but she seemed just as happy snuggling up with Brendan and would let him pet her for hours. And it seemed like hours had passed when a pretty brunette with deep green eyes came out of the house and asked, “Does anybody here like peanut butter cookies?”
Brendan’s hand shot up in the air. “I do!”
“That’s lucky,” she said. “Because I just took a tray out of the oven and I don’t want to eat them all by myself.”
“You must be Melissa,” Brooke said.
“And you’re Brooke,” she said, shaking the proffered hand.
“And I’m Brendan,” he chimed in.
“I would have guessed that, if you’d given me a chance,” Melissa said, with an indulgent smile.
“I’m impatient,” he said.
The cook chuckled at that. “So what do you say to cookies and milk, Brendan the Impatient?”
“Can I say ‘yes,’ Mom?” he asked hopefully.
“You can say ‘yes, please,’” she told him. “But make sure you wash your hands.”
“I will,” he promised. Then to Melissa he said, “Yes, please.”
“I’ve got coffee, too,” Patrick’s cousin said to Brooke. “If that’s your preference.”
“I’d love a cup,” Brooke said. “Just let me give Princess a quick check first.”
She didn’t think she stayed with the dog for very long after Brendan had gone inside with Melissa, but by the time she made it to the house, there was nothing left of the cookies but a few crumbs and her son was in the family room watching TV.
“So when did you get into town?” Brooke asked Melissa, as she sat at the island with her mug of coffee.
“Three days ago, and I’m leaving tomorrow for a three-day culinary expo in Vegas.”
“So culture shock hasn’t set in yet?”
Melissa smiled as she shook her head. “I know it’s going to be an adjustment, but I think I’m going to like it. Especially with Jenna living here, too.”
“Does Patrick know she’s living here?” Brooke wondered.
Melissa grinned. “She thinks he might, but so far, he hasn’t said anything about it.”
Then the door opened and Patrick came in, stomping snow off his boots.
“Actually, I just remembered that I’ve got something I have to do,” Melissa said, and with a quick wave she was gone.
“That was weird,” Brooke said.
“What was?” Patrick asked, glancing around to ensure they were alone before bending down to press a quick kiss to her lips.
She shook her head, deciding it didn’t really matter why the other woman had made a hasty escape, because it meant that she could steal another of the rancher’s delicious kisses.
Patrick looked pointedly at the empty plate as he poured himself a mug of coffee. “Did I miss out on cookies?”
Brooke nodded. “Freshly baked peanut butter,” she said. “I didn’t get any, either, because by the time I came in, they were gone.”
“Melissa knows her way around the kitchen,” Patrick said.
“That’s why you hired her, isn’t it?”
“Of course,” he admitted.
“So why does it sound as if you’re second-guessing your decision?” Brooke prompted.
“Bec
ause I can’t shake the feeling that there’s something going on with her that she’s not telling me.”
“If there is, it might be because it’s none of your business,” she pointed out gently.
“I bet she’ll tell Sarah,” he mused. “No one can keep a secret from Sarah.”
Brooke shook her head. “Are you even listening to me?”
“Of course I’m listening. But she’s my cousin, and if—”
“No,” she interjected. “I mean, I know she’s your cousin, and that makes the lines a little blurry, but she’s here to cook for your guests.”
And though the ranch wasn’t yet officially open for business, within days of the website going live, he’d received dozens of inquiries and even a handful of bookings for the weekend of his grand opening.
“Would you be prying into the details of her life if she was a stranger you’d hired?” Brooke asked, returning to her original point.
“No,” he admitted.
“Then let it be,” she advised.
“Okay,” he said. “I’ll let it be if you take a walk out to the barn with me so we can make out in the tack room.”
She lifted a brow. “You seem to be under the illusion that you’re negotiating from a position of power here, when it really doesn’t matter all that much to me whether you let it go or you don’t.”
“Does that mean you won’t take a walk with me?” he asked, sounding disappointed.
“No, I’ll take the walk,” she said. “But only because I really want to make out with you.”
He grinned. “That’s a good enough reason for me.”
* * *
Brooke was taking a short break between appointments at the clinic the next day when Larissa handed her a stack of messages. While there didn’t seem to be anything urgent, she noticed that Patrick had called three times, so she picked up the phone and dialed his number.
A Chance for the Rancher Page 16
