by Alison Kent
Ah, that explained the Doctor D, Sophie thought, tucking away the ammunition.
Harley led her to a bedroom at the end of the hall, a room done in tones of dark green and peach, heavy wood pieces, and feminine accents in florals and lace. Obviously the room she shared with Gardner. And just as obviously a room she was comfortable showing to strangers.
With the baby settled safely on her stomach in the center of the king-size bed, Harley pulled open an incredible walk-in closet. “Let’s see,” she said, whipping through the hangers on one side. “You’re a bit shorter than I am. And I’d say you were, what? A six?”
“No. Too many muscles.”
“An eight then, which is still reason enough to hate you.” Harley poked her head around the closet door and smiled. “Most of my things are tens but we’ll figure something out.”
“How dressy is the party?” Sophie asked, perching delicately on the end of the bed, her fingers curled into the duvet on either side of her hips. She couldn’t imagine what it must be like to sleep in the same bed every night.
“It’s not dressy at all.” Harley had returned to the depths of the closet. “In fact, what you’re wearing would work just fine. But I have a feeling that brother-in-law of mine is itching to see a different you.” She reappeared, hangers caught in one hand. “And I think you might like that, too.”
“I told him this was a crazy idea. I don’t pack for parties when I’m on the road.” Not that she owned party clothes anyway. “But you’re probably right about him being tired of seeing me in jeans since that’s all he’s seen me in.”
“Oh, I don’t think tired is the word.” Harley tossed the clear protective bags to the floor and hung three items over the top of the closet’s open door then disappeared back inside. “As a matter of fact, I can’t remember ever seeing him that close to having his eyeballs pop out of his head.”
Thank goodness Harley couldn’t see the flush spreading up Sophie’s neck. “I thought that was because of the breast milk.”
“He might have been disgusted with that but I was talking about before and after.” She reappeared again, hung four more items on the door. “I’m talking about the way his eyes eat you up like a starving man. I have experience with a starving man. I know what I’m talking about.”
Harley finished her forage into the closet and plopped down beside Sophie on the bed. “Well? What are you waiting for?”
Sophie didn’t know what she was waiting for because she didn’t even know what she was doing. The closet. The clothes. She was supposed to try on clothes. But all she could think about was a big bad wolf eating her up with his eyes.
“There are two or three dresses there that might work. And several skirt and blouse combinations.” Harley placed Dani on her lap, where she began to squirm and fuss in earnest. Harley turned the baby over, patted her back, and said to Sophie, “A couple of the skirts might go just as well with the T-shirt you’re wearing.”
Easing off the mattress, Sophie headed toward the closet, smoothing a hand down her front. “You think this would be okay?”
“Sure. In fact, if it’ll make you more comfortable, I’ll keep it casual, too.”
“Oh, no,” Sophie said, standing on one foot to unlace the boot on the other. “You don’t have to dress down for me. Just wear what you’d planned to wear.”
“I really hadn’t planned anything. But now that I think about it, I have this skirt that drives Gardner insane.” The corner of her mouth lifted in a wicked female smile. “It’s cut to tie like a sarong and made from the top of an old patchwork quilt. It reminds him of… oh, never mind.” She waved her hand. “The matching T-shirt is a wonderful sunflower-yellow silk that’s cut very similarly to yours… are you all right?”
Sophie dropped boot number two to the floor and shook off the picture of Tyler in white socks and a white shirt and a very thin coverlet. “I’m fine,” she managed to squeeze out without moaning. “It’s just that I haven’t tried on girl clothes in so long that I’m not sure where to start.”
“Start with that Indian print skirt. Four pregnancies and I can’t wear it anymore. I don’t know why I keep it. Except that it was one of the first things Gardner saw me in—and out of.”
Sophie carried the hanger into the closet where she slipped out of her jeans. The skirt was gorgeous, the colors bright, the material soft. Yes, she’d try it on but she certainly wouldn’t wear it. Not with Gardner sure to be at the party.
She wasn’t quite as comfortable with her sexuality as Harley appeared to be. Not that she didn’t plan to work on it tonight, just not wearing this particular skirt, even though it looked and felt like a dream once she got it on.
When she stepped into the bedroom to model the skirt for Harley, Sophie found the other woman with the hem of her huge blouse partially raised and her baby nursing contentedly.
Harley glanced up and studied the skirt “You want to wear that? It looks great.”
“I don’t think it’s really me,” Sophie said, slipping out of the skirt and returning it to the hanger.
Harley frowned in concentration. “Maybe something shorter? To show off those great legs?”
“No, I like this length. It’s just that—”
“You don’t want to wear something that has my memories attached. I understand. And if I could get into it, I’d wear it myself.”
“I do like this one, though,” Sophie said, pulling a long black column skirt from the closet door.
“Ooh, that might just be the one. You’ve got the perfect figure for that. And with your light skin and blond hair…” Smiling her approval, Harley let the sentence trail.
The skirt didn’t belong on a ranch, that was for sure. It was straight out of a fashion magazine, made from a slinky, sexy, fabric that Sophie knew would feel like heaven—and nothing like blue jeans—on her skin.
And speaking of blue jeans. She glanced the length of Harley’s closet. “Your wardrobe surprises me. I guess I thought I’d find—”
“Jeans, jeans, and more jeans?” Harley shifted the baby to the other breast “You know what they say. You can take the girl out of the city but don’t even try to take the city out of the girl.”
Sophie lifted the skirt from the hanger and stepped into the closet. “How long have you lived here?”
“Ten years. Don’t get me wrong. I wouldn’t live anyplace else. But those clothes… that’s who I am. I was thirty when I married Gardner. I’ve given him four children in ten years and a lot of myself in the process. But there’s still a big part of me that doesn’t belong to Camelot.”
Sophie closed her eyes as the skirt shimmied down over her hips. Once it settled above her ankles, she returned to the bedroom. “It wasn’t hard to give up your other life?”
“It was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done. But I don’t regret for a minute making that choice.” Harley stroked a finger over the baby’s cheek, then looked up. Her face filled with delight “Oh, my God, that is so perfect on you. Just perfect.
“Listen, I know it’s chilly out but if you can stand it, there’s a pair of platform sandals that would be to die for with that skirt.” Her eyes suddenly widened. “Oh, oh, what am I thinking? In the back of the closet, there’s a sweater chest. Second drawer. Grab the black cashmere.”
Sophie found the shoes on the rack in the closet and the sweater in the drawer. The shoes were a half size off but close enough. The sweater, on the other hand, was perfect, loose enough that she wouldn’t have to worry about her lack of a bra and as soft as a caress on her skin.
She came back out for Harley’s inspection and whoop of, “Oh, this is so great. Tyler is just going to die.”
“You think so?”
“I definitely think so. Come see for yourself,” she said, motioning Sophie toward the full-length mirror standing in the corner of the room.
Sophie moved to check her reflection. The sleeves of the sweater were long, the neckline loosely woven, showing the line of her col
larbone, the swell of her breasts, and giving a hint of frill to the sweep of plain black. The hem hit her mid-torso, leaving a good two inches of skin and her navel exposed above the waistband of the skirt.
Except the skirt had no waistband, only a small turned-under hem, a zipper and a walking slit in back. It hung on her hip bones, fell in a long straight line from there to the floor. When she walked, the material moved with her, clinging to her thighs and her long slope of hip.
The length of her own legs amazed her. As did the curves outlined so clearly beneath all that black. Harley had been right. The contrast between the clothing and Sophie’s skin and hair brought out the green in her eyes, the flush in her cheeks and color in her lips, and shadowed the skin of her belly.
The woman in the mirror couldn’t be her. She wasn’t so intriguing, so confident in her bearing, so comfortable with her femininity, so… so… provocative and sexy.
Was this who Tyler saw when he looked at her?
She took a deep breath. “Well, I don’t exactly want Tyler to die.”
“No, I don’t guess you do. But it’s fun to see them sweat, you know.”
Sophie turned then, twisted her hands at her waist and hiking the tight skirt up her thighs, sat next to Harley on the edge of the bed. “No. I don’t know. I haven’t dated much.”
“Honey, from the look in my brother-in-law’s eyes you’re not going to be dating again anytime soon,” Harley said, wrapping one arm around Sophie’s shoulder in a girlfriend hug.
“This thing with Tyler… I just don’t have any idea what happened.”
“It hit you fast and it hit you hard, didn’t it?”
She answered with a nod. “But I don’t know what it was that hit me.”
Harley adjusted her clothing and lay the sleeping baby behind her in the center of the bed. She turned to the side, took Sophie’s hands in her own. “These Barnes men don’t make it easy on us women. They come along right when we’ve figured out what we want and where we’re going, and make us wonder what we’re doing with our lives. It just doesn’t seem fair that a man should have that much power, does it?”
Sophie shook her head, looked up and met Harley’s compassionate gaze.
“Then do what I do,” Harley said, “and don’t ever let him know. Instead, enjoy every single moment of the power you hold over him.”
The first part she’d figured out on her own. Tyler’s upper hand was already too high. But the second… “The thing is, I was due to leave yesterday. My crew pulled out today in fact. But my dog was hurt and I had to stay.”
“Ah. And you don’t know who you stayed behind for. Tyler or your dog.”
No, she knew that, didn’t she? If Cowboy hadn’t been hurt, she would’ve left with the crew yesterday. She would have. She knew that. But Tyler had said he loved her and now she was the one whose mind was mush.
Rats.
How he could hear the front door open and close above the din of partygoers, Tyler wasn’t sure. But he could and he did and every time the new arrival wasn’t Sophie, the muscle in his jaw clenched tighter. An hour into the party and he was working on a hell of a headache.
The first floor of the custom log home consisted of a large open area. A two-way stone fireplace built across the width partitioned one-third of the huge room into an island kitchen and dining alcove where the women of Brodie County had put on some kind of feed.
Card tables set end to end held foil-lined platters of smoked meats, crockery bowls brimming with vegetables and salads, sugar-beaded meringue pies, trays of kid-tempting, palm-size cookies, and red plastic tumblers filled with drinks.
Rachel and Mrs. Ford supervised the food line, directing guests through the kitchen and into the living room where more card tables and folding chairs sat in cozy clusters. A few visitors chose to take Tyler’s tour before eating, following him up the staircase at the far end of the room.
After a quick look around the second floor’s four empty bedrooms and two baths, he led them back down to the master suite that occupied the house’s only separate wing. Privacy in a master suite was a good thing. Would be a good thing, Tyler mused, disgruntled.
But he’d just come from his bedroom and right now there had to be twenty people checking out his tub, another ten in his closet. And now, here, another fifty milled through the main living area. Yet the one person he most wanted to see hadn’t arrived.
He was going to throttle Harley if she didn’t get Sophie here soon.
When Harley planned a party, she planned a party and unfortunately, she’d planned this one before Sophie had come into his life. So, along with the invitations, Harley had dropped a lot of well-placed hints about her brother-in-law’s status as eligible bachelor.
Which meant every mother of every eligible Brodie County daughter hovered, refilling his plate with baked beans and potato salad, barbecued brisket and homemade rolls.
He’d already ducked out and loosened his belt a notch and he’d only been here an hour. If he didn’t stop eating now and walk off the food laying heavy in his stomach, he’d fall asleep before Sophie got here. And that couldn’t happen.
He had plans for the end of the evening, plans he intended to carry out while wide, wide awake.
“Hey, Uncle Ty.”
Tyler turned at the sound of his oldest nephew’s voice. “Austin, buddy. What’s up?”
Dressed in crisp blue jeans, boots, and a wildly colored shirt, Austin pointed back toward Tyler’s bedroom. “I was just in your bathroom with Daddy.”
Tyler arched a brow. “Oh, yeah? He didn’t leave the seat up again, did he?”
Austin giggled, then quickly stopped because he was nine and nine-year-olds weren’t supposed to giggle anymore. “No, Uncle Ty. He was telling us that as soon as you move in, that me and Ben and Cody can get Uncle Jud to bring us over for a campout and you’ll let us have a water balloon fight in the tub.”
Tyler ruffled Austin’s sandy-blond hair. “Your daddy said that, did he?”
“Yeah, but I gotta go now cuz there’s almost no chocolate chip cookies left and I’ve only had six.” Austin scrambled away.
Tyler watched him go. Kids. He wondered how Sophie felt about becoming a parent because he didn’t think life would be quite as much fun without a couple of the monsters turning his world upside down.
He cast another glance at the front door and found his brother heading toward him. Once Gardner was within hearing distance, Tyler pinned him down. “Campouts and water balloon fights?”
Gardner grinned. “You’ve been talking to Austin.”
“I knew you had ulterior motives for building me this house but just to get your wife alone? That’s low, Gardner. Really low. Snake-belly low.”
Hands on his hips, Gardner hung his head and grinned. “What can I say? Harley and I haven’t had a night alone in that house since… well, since never.”
“What did you expect? You didn’t just bring her home, you brought her home to eight ranch hands and two live-in relatives. Next time you get married, why don’t you build a house for your wife instead of your brother?”
“There’s not going to be a next time, little brother, which is why you’ll do the right thing and take my family off my hands from time to time.” Gardner glanced around the room and frowned. “Speaking of family, what have you done with my wife and your woman?”
His woman. He liked the caveman sound of that. “I left them upstairs at Camelot trying on clothes.”
“Well, that could take well into the next century,” Gardner groused, turning his head at the sound of the front door opening. “But then again, maybe not.”
Tyler followed Gardner’s lead. He took in the picture of Sophie walking through his door and knew this was one of those moments that came too seldom in a lifetime. One of those moments that took hold of a man’s soul, reminding him he was only human and easily brought to his knees.
“Is that some piece of work or what?” Gardner asked, whistling under his breath.
“Yeah. She is,” Tyler answered, having eyes for no one but Sophie. What the hell was she doing living her life in worn boots and jeans?
She wore nothing but black and it took him about half a second to decide it was his favorite color. Especially considering the way the slinky fabric molded and shaped her long arms and legs, clung to breasts he knew fit his hands, and caressed hips he vowed would soon cradle his own.
Her eyes were bright, the color high in her cheeks, and her hair had the tousled look of a man’s impatient hands. As if that tempting sweep of shoulder-to-shoulder skin wasn’t enough to light his fire, he swore there was a good hand span of belly showing between her sweater and her skirt.
He knew exactly how incredible her body was but to see her wearing purely female clothes left his tongue fighting the wad of cotton his mouth had become. He couldn’t speak. Hell, he couldn’t even swallow.
He turned to Gardner and decided his brother’s knocked-for-a-loop expression must have mirrored his own.
Gardner pulled his gaze from Harley, who was no less stunning than Sophie in a short, figure-hugging skirt and bright yellow blouse, and grinned like a devil at Tyler. “You look like you just swallowed a tumbleweed.”
Tyler cleared his throat. “And here I thought it was a hay bale.”
Gardner affectionately gripped Tyler’s upper arm and glanced from Tyler to the doorway and back again. His grin widened. “You know, little brother, this isn’t going to go away.”
“Goddamn, I hope not,” Tyler said under his breath, his heart in his throat, a saddle cinch tight around his chest. “Just tell me it’s not going to kill me.”
“Not right away. But over time? Yeah, I’d say you’re a definite goner.” Gardner slipped his arm around Tyler’s shoulder in a gesture of shared commiseration. “Speaking from experience, though, it’s a hell of a way to go.”
Tyler was absolutely ready to find out. He grinned, then grew thoughtful. “Hey, if I hadn’t made you see the error of your ways, would you have shaped up enough to go after Harley?”
“Taking credit where credit’s not due again?”
