Not My First Rodeo 2 Boxed Set

by Donna Alward

  She swallowed over the lump in her throat threatening to choke her. This was what each day would feel like as Slade’s wife. This sense of belonging absolutely void of the loneliness that was her constant companion. Any woman would be lucky to have this. He’d get over her in no time, but Jules doubted she’d ever forget what this moment felt like.

  “Die men?” April played with the diamond drop earrings.

  “You’re a fast learner. Maybe we should do diamond buttons on your dress.”

  She nodded and grinned, dimples pressing into her teeny cheeks. There was such an earnest innocence in her gaze, Jules wanted to do whatever it took to keep it there. Only, she couldn’t. This wasn’t her little girl, her family. And it never would be.

  “I’m going to have such fun dressing you up.” She gave April a little squeeze and tried to stand her up. But instead of letting her go, the little girl turned and held on tight. Jules’s breath shuddered in her chest as she caught Slade’s gaze. A surge of emotion hit her like a tidal wave. She slammed her eyes shut and held on. Part of her wanted to jump up and run, but even though she needed to protect herself from wanting what she couldn’t have, she couldn’t be the first one to let go.

  She’d started things with Slade to have a little fun, never expecting it to be more than a night. Yet after the space of a few weeks, she was questioning everything she’d ever thought she wanted. She should never have opened the door to a man that had marriage written all over him, knowing it was a door she couldn’t walk through. Her eyes prickled with tears she couldn’t shed, but still she held on. It was strange how she sensed what this child needed, and the instinct overrode every self-preservation.

  After what felt like a second and eternity, April relaxed her hold. “Come play?”

  Jules swallowed and forced a smile. “I wish I could, but I have to make beautiful dresses for the wedding. The next time I see you, I’ll have lots of pretty things for you, okay?”

  She shook her head. “No go.”

  “April, honey,” Joanna took her granddaughter’s dimpled hand. “Miss Jules has to get back to work.”

  April leaned toward her grandmother and Jules reached for her, hoping she hid the reaction when she gripped the coffee table instead. Adrenaline surged and she packed her things faster than she ever had before. She had to get away, get someplace where she wasn’t in danger of losing everything she’d been working for, of losing herself.

  It took all her self-restraint not to run while Carly changed out of the dress and Jacy packed the wedding gown into the box it had lived in for the last few decades. They helped her carry everything and load it into the back of her SUV.

  “I’ll call you about next weekend, okay?” Carly gave her a quick hug.

  “Which, I promise, will be free of hot wax.” Jacy linked arms with her best friend. “I don’t torture my bridesmaids.”

  Jules knew she couldn’t possibly be a bridesmaid, not now after the way she’d felt holding April. She couldn’t possibly put herself in that position ever again. She’d make sure they came to her for the next fitting, that way she could deliver the dresses without having her soul bleed out. But she didn’t want to argue the point here, now. She needed to get some space before—

  “Jules, can I talk to you?” Slade sauntered down the stairs like he didn’t have a care in the world. He glared at Jacy and Carly. “Alone?”

  “I’m actually running late.” She gripped her keys and slammed the back door closed.

  “It’s important.” Gravel crunched beneath his boots as he made his way to her driver’s side door and leaned a hip against it.

  “It’s faster not to argue with him,” Jacy offered as she and her best friend strolled back inside.

  “I really do need to go.” Her stomach flipped and she forced her hands into the pockets of her dress.

  “You’re shaking.” He stepped to her and braced his warm hands on her bare arms.

  “Yep.” She stepped back. “I need some space right now.”

  “I need to talk to you about what happened in there.”

  “A dress fitting.” She cleared her throat and wondered if she’d be able to yank the door open with him standing so close. Probably not.

  He reached into his front pocket and came out with her bracelets. Which she’d forgotten about. He hooked them on his finger and held them out for her. “I’m talking about what happened with April.”

  “Let’s not.” She tried to take the bracelets without touching him, but she brushed his hand and her stomach pitched and her eyes stung. By the time he’d reached out and pulled her against his chest, she was choking on a sob. And she did not cry. Nope. Not in front of people.

  “It’s okay.” He held her close and threaded a hand into her hair, holding her there like he had all day.

  She pulled in a breath like her life depended on it and twisted free. She pushed the bracelets onto her wrist and blinked away the tears before she dared look at him again. And her whole body shuddered.

  “You’re nowhere near as tough as you pretend to be.” He grinned, his warm brown eyes glinting in the afternoon sun.

  Pretending. That was the only way to get out of this. “Neither are you, cowboy. Now are you going to let me get back to town, or hold me hostage up here like some outlaw?”

  “I’m not letting you go anywhere right now. Do you want to do this with my mama and sister staring out the window, or do you want to take a walk?”

  She shrugged, then decided a walk was exactly what she needed for a dose of reality. One whiff of cow and this sense of longing would be gone for sure. She winked at him. “I suppose you could always show me your hay loft. That is, if you’re packing.”

  “You know, I ought to kiss that smirk off your face in front of God and the world. But that would be too easy.” He stepped around her to the back of the car. “Come on.”

  She thought about jumping in and trying to escape, but he’d probably stay right there, daring her to run him over. She huffed a breath, then fell in step beside him. “Gravel isn’t made for walking in heels.”

  “I told you to wear boots.”

  “And I told you, I’m not into ranching. Do you think you could say your piece before you ruin my shoes?”

  “I’ll buy you new damned shoes.” They crossed the drive to a smaller house, connected to the main one by a covered porch. “This was the original homestead. It’s been updated a half dozen times, but this is where it all started. My granddad built the main house after the ranch started taking off. He was the one that took it from a family outfit into the operation it is today.”

  She followed him up the stairs and onto a porch swing. “I’ve never actually sat on one of these.”

  “I’ve broken my share.” He reached behind her, then settled his arm around her shoulders. “You’ve rocked my world, Jules O’Connor.”

  “You’re welcome, but this porch swing is a little public for me. Now a hayloft, I might be able to get behind. Or let you get behind.” She squeezed his knee and checked the bulge in his jeans. Maybe she’d read him wrong and this was just about sex.

  “Just having you in a room gets me a little excited. I like it, but I didn’t know what to do with it. I’ve been trying to figure it out, and then it all came together.”

  “Yes, this morning we came together beautifully.” She trailed her hand up his thigh, until he covered it with his own and squeezed, almost too hard.

  “You are sexual fireworks, I’m not denying it. But I’m talking about seeing you with my daughter. And my mother and my sister. It was like finally finding a missing puzzle piece. You fit perfectly. And the way April was with you, I’ve prayed for that for her.”

  She tried to pull her hand free, but he held it firm. “Let me go, Slade.”

  “I don’t think I can.”

  “You have to. If you care about me at all, you have to.”

  “It’s because I feel more for you each time I see you that I can’t.”

  “Y
ou like the me you see. The me that is designing dresses and headed to New York. You think you want me to stay, but if I do, I’d be a different person.”

  “It’s who you are that I’m loving on, not where you’re going or what you do. Who you are when your guard comes down is even more beautiful than the outside.”

  She shook her head and finally pulled her hand free. “You don’t get it. You have nothing to lose here, while I have everything. If it doesn’t work, you can shrug and move on, looking for a more suitable bride. While I’d lose you, and Jacy, and Carly, and my place at design school, and—” She couldn’t bring herself to say April’s name, just cleared her throat instead. She stood and rubbed at her aching forehead. “You don’t get it. You’ve always had this, this place in the world. I’ve probably slept with half the guys who work for you, trying to find my place. Any minute now you’re going to realize I’m not the kind of girl you marry.”

  He rose up beside her, framing her face in his hands. “I never expected to be the first man you slept with, but I want to be the last. What’s happening between us goes deeper. If you need to walk away to realize that, then, well, I’ll probably chase you down.”

  She closed her eyes and breathed him in. It would be so easy to just fall under, let it happen. But she couldn’t. She’d watched her mother change for every man that came into their lives, and it was never enough to make them stay, leaving her seething with resentment. And she’d turned that bitterness on her daughters. Jules couldn’t risk doing the same to a child so fragile. She’d been strong enough to endure her mother’s frustrations about how she’d given up her dreams to be a mother. April wouldn’t.

  “I told you from the beginning that this was fun, temporary. You have to let me go.”

  “And if I can’t?”

  “I’ll go anyway.” It took everything she had to walk down those steps and back to her car, to take the winding drive back to the road. But she had to. Because she wasn’t just protecting her own heart, but April’s as well.

  Chapter Eight

  “How long has that been going on?” Joanna said, handing a cup of coffee to her son before joining him on the porch swing.

  “It’s new.” He sipped the scalding coffee, thankful for the burn.

  “She’s a lovely girl. She’s been a vendor at the quilt show the last two years. We weren’t sure about having someone so young, but she’s talented and personable.”

  He nodded, not wanting to think of anything other than how to convince Jules to be with him. Them. Seeing how April blossomed with her had been magical. He’d wanted Jules for himself, but now he needed her for his daughter.

  “I think Gus has a little crush. He thinks April talked to her because she’s so pretty.”

  He grinned and wondered what her therapist would think of that notion. Sorry doc, apparently she needs someone gorgeous to help her, preferably with diamonds and fashion sense.

  “Do you know she’s planning on going to New York City?”

  “Yeah.” He chugged down the rest of the coffee because he didn’t want to do this. Not now. Not ever.

  “What would you do there?”

  He blew out a breath and turned to face his mother, her green eyes smiling. “I’m not going to New York. Weston Ridge isn’t just what I do, it’s who I am.”

  “Well kiddo, then you’re going to have to convince her to stay.”

  “I’m trying.” He didn’t know how to be what she wanted. Or even what it was she wanted, besides New York and to be a fashion designer. She’d never told him anything beyond that, and he’d always been too busy indulging in her body to get inside her head.

  “You should invite her to come to supper tomorrow.”

  “I don’t think she wants, you know, this.” He motioned to the lower pasture, where the grass was still high and green.

  “Well, I didn’t want this either, but it grew on me.”

  “I can’t ask her to forget what she’s spent a lifetime working toward. As much as I want her, I don’t think it matters.”

  “It matters to April. And Gus.”

  He tried to take a deep breath, but his chest was too heavy to lift. “I’ve been trying for over a year to find them someone. But I can’t do that right now. Not until after Jules is gone and I have some time to get past it.”

  “They might like New York.”

  “Mama, if I didn’t know better, I’d think you were trying to get rid of me.”

  “No matter how old you get, you’re still my kid. And I need you to be happy. There was something in that room that gave me hope you could be happy again, all of you. Even if that means my grandkids are too far away to hug.”

  “I can’t take them from here. This is their home, and Amanda’s folks are here. If it were just me, I’d follow Jules without a second thought. But I’m not free.”

  “You’ve never been one to give up without a fight.”

  “I’m trying to be realistic. Even if I beg her to stay, she’s still going to go.”

  His mother rose from the swing and took his empty mug. “You never know if you don’t try. But if you don’t try, you’re going to regret it. And you know what Daddy used to say…”

  “Listen to your mother?” He smiled at her as her cheeks pinked.

  “He was a brilliant man, you can’t deny it.”

  She walked back into the main house while he started the swing with a kick of his boot. He had to figure out what Jules truly wanted, and give her that. Even if it was New York.

  …

  Jules poured the berry compote onto a chilled sheet pan, hoping it would cool faster so she could top the cheesecakes and be done. She’d been up most the night cleaning Jacy’s wedding dress and she needed to see it in the daylight to ensure she’d gotten the color even. She wiped down the stainless steel countertops in the Cattlemen’s kitchen and checked the clock. The lack of sleep had her moving slower than usual. Thank goodness the restaurant closed on Mondays. She’d need every minute of tomorrow to catch up. And to tell Ben she wasn’t going to cake anymore. That wouldn’t go over well.

  The outside door pulled open, a cool breeze pushing inside as Drea entered. Jules sighed in relief. She needed some advice on how to talk to her uncle without it escalating into a screaming match.

  “I’m glad you’re here,” she said to her sister. “I need you to check my notes on the desserts and make sure they’re understandable.”

  Drea pulled the door closed, her long hair caught up in a simple braid. She wore jeans and a ridiculous flannel, but at least it was better than chef pants.

  “Want to run interference for me with Uncle Ben? I’m going to tell him to make his own cakes.” She checked the compote, still too runny to use.

  Drea pulled out the only stool in the entire kitchen. “I’m um, actually here to talk to you.”

  “Oh?” Jules smiled wide and leaned against the line of grills. “About a boy?”

  Drea shook her head and wrinkled her nose. “It’s about school.”

  Jules felt her brows rise higher than a trophy wife’s facelift. “You’re going to pass statistics.”

  “I got a B on the last chapter test, so I think I’m fine. It’s about culinary school.”

  She crossed her arms over her chest. “Are you sure you want to try and tell me you’re thinking about delaying in a room full of knives? Because if you want a gap year, it won’t be stagnating in this town.”

  “I don’t want to go to New York.” She twisted the hem of her flannel shirt and studied the tile floor. “I never declined my place at the Culinary Institute in Portland. They called on Friday about registration and I signed up.”

  “But you’re registered in New York.” Her throat tightened, going thick and dry.

  “I let my spot go once I talked with Dad. I don’t want to go that far.”

  “It’s all you’ve ever wanted.”

  “No, it’s what you wanted.” Drea sighed, her dark eyes glassy. “I said culinary school, you said
New York. My friends are staying in state. I want to be able to come home on weekends and holidays and summers and see them. I don’t want to start all over again the way I had to when we moved here.”

  “Did Ben put you up to this?” He’d never come out and said he didn’t want Drea to leave, but he’d made a strong case for staying close to home.

  She shook her head. “He said he’d support whatever I decided. But that I had to be the one to tell you.”

  “Did he now?” Ben had held her back by keeping her in town, but she’d be damned if he did the same thing to her sister.

  “It doesn’t mean you can’t go. New York is your hometown, but it’s not mine.”

  “You were born there, Drea. You grew up there.”

  “I only remember feeling small and scared. We never knew when Mom was coming home, or if. We had to change schools every time we changed apartments.” She wiped at her eyes and sighed. “There weren’t friends like I have here. No one cared enough to try and keep in touch with us when we moved. I don’t want to go. I was doing it for you, because you stayed here for me, and I just can’t.”

  “Fine. Don’t go.” She walked past her sister, grabbing the keys out of her hand as she did.

  “Wait, what are you doing?” Drea called out.

  “Stay here. Finish the cheesecakes.” Jules didn’t bother slowing down, just raced up the stairs. She unlocked the door of the apartment and blazed through the darkened space until she got to her uncle’s bedroom and flipped on the light.

  He cursed and squinted at her. “What’s your damage?”

  “You holding Drea back, that’s what. You talked her out of New York, out of the best culinary school in the country. How could you be so selfish?”

  He laid back and closed his eyes. “I’ll talk to you in two hours.”

  “I thought you loved her. I really did.”

  “Out of line, Julianne.” His eyes shot open, his dark gaze narrowing.

  She pulled back. He rarely used her given name, hadn’t bothered with it in years.

  “Don’t tell me how to raise my kid.” He pushed a hand through his dark hair, sending it into more disarray. “Drea can go to whatever school she wants to. It’s her first decision as an adult. It might not be your first choice—”