Barrie shrugged. “I don’t even know.”
“You look like you’re hiding, Barrie.”
“What?” Barrie looked from the shirt to her friend.
“Your pregnancy,” Mallory clarified. “You look like you’re trying to hide it instead of celebrate it. And I know all about that. I tried to hide my pregnancy with Beau until the last possible minute. If I could undo that, I would. You deserve to enjoy this.”
“This town doesn’t want to celebrate this baby,” Barrie replied, her voice low. “I’m the scandal, remember?”
“You’re pregnant, you’re beautiful and this baby is already loved,” Mallory replied, meeting her gaze. “Dress like it.”
Her friend was right. She might not feel like flaunting this pregnancy, but she did love her baby already, and her child deserved to be celebrated by her, at the very least. Barrie looked around at the various styles of shirts, and she spotted a fitted striped sweater with a cowl neck that looked cozy and soft. “I like that.”
“Good.” Mallory went and grabbed one from the rack. “What about this one?”
They picked out a few tops together, then snagged a few pairs of maternity jeans that Barrie had to admit looked a whole lot more comfortable than the low-waisted jeans she was wearing now. The saleswoman gladly put everything aside in a changing room.
“Mike couldn’t tell me what happened to Curtis, exactly,” Mallory said. “Privacy issues and all that. I know there was a fight at the bar, but that’s about it.”
“Apparently, Dwight Petersen was saying some horrible things about me,” Barrie replied.
“And Curtis stood up for you,” her friend concluded.
“It wasn’t necessary,” she said. She wasn’t Curtis’s wife anymore, and he didn’t get to be all territorial about her. Except she’d gotten the impression that this hadn’t just been male ego... Curtis had been scared for her.
“And if he’d just sat there and let him?” Mallory countered.
“I’d never have been the wiser,” she replied. “And I’d probably have been happier that way.”
“Dwight is a scary guy,” Mallory said quietly. “He’s angry—like, deep down angry. Mike says I need to stay away from him, too, and Mike doesn’t say that kind of thing without good reason. I don’t know, Barrie. Maybe it’s better that Curtis did something.”
Barrie sighed. “I’m more upset with myself, Mal. I kissed him.”
“Who?” Mallory gasped.
“Curtis.” She shot her friend an incredulous smile. “And it was on me. He’d rubbed my feet, and made me a meal and I guess it just felt really good to be cared for—”
“Was this before or after the bar fight?” Mallory asked.
“Before, which is why that fight is so annoying. I’m not his anymore, and he can’t act like I am. One ill-advised kiss doesn’t change that.”
“Is it possible that old feelings are coming back?”
“And what if they did?” Barrie shook her head. “It doesn’t change anything. Mal, I’m having a baby. Babies need stability...and so do I. And Curtis was always the kind of guy who thought stability was boring. If I’m going to have a man in my life, he needs to be someone I can rely on, because I don’t have enough strength to be taking care of an impulsive man as well as myself and a newborn. Heck, I didn’t have the strength for it when it was only me.”
“And he hasn’t grown up at all?” Mallory asked. “Fifteen years is a long time. Everyone changes.”
“See that’s my problem—” Barrie tugged her hair out of her face. “I married him the first time for his potential. I could see the man he could be if he only tried. Just because a man could be something doesn’t mean he wants to be. I’m not making that mistake twice.”
“No, I hear you there,” Mallory agreed. “I’m sorry, Barrie. This can’t be easy.”
“It’s just bad timing,” Barrie said. “I’m having a baby and I’m trying to figure out how I’ll run my practice and be a mom at the same time. Curtis is selling the building I’m leasing, and Palmer Berton is pushing for me to work for him again... If it weren’t for these hormones coursing through my system, I’m sure I’d be a lot more levelheaded.”
Except she wasn’t actually sure of that. Curtis had always been her weakness, and he still was, despite everything else that was tipping her world.
Barrie stopped when she saw a party dress that was so beautiful she could hardly imagine wearing it. It was crimson, with a satiny crisscross top that would accentuate her bust and a soft, flowing skirt that would swirl around her legs at a tea length.
“For my party?” Mallory asked hopefully. “You’ve got the legs for it, Barrie. Not all of us do!”
“I don’t know...” Barrie hesitated.
“It’s on sale, too!” Mallory turned around the tag and Barrie took a closer look. “Try it on...”
Maybe Mallory was right. It would be nice to feel pretty again, put together. Barrie met her friend’s gaze, then smiled. “Alright. I’ll splurge for your party.”
* * *
CURTIS COULDN’T GET a parking spot in front of Mutt’s Fish and Chips on Main Street, and had to settle for a space across the street and south a few yards. His stomach rumbled. He’d expected to eat lunch at the ranch, like usual, but Betty had hurried him off to town to pick up a prescription. Before she’d hustled him out the door, he noticed that she’d put on some makeup.
“Who are you dressing up for?” he’d asked. Her reply was a wrathful glare and a list of items to pick up from town, including her blood pressure prescription, which she’d said she needed because he kept doing stupid things like getting into bar fights. So he’d done what any self-respecting nephew would—apologized once again for his battered face and headed for town. Apparently Betty needed some space.
On his way out, he’d passed Dr. Berton just turning in, and the men had exchanged a somber wave. Curtis rolled down his window.
“Morning,” he called.
“Morning,” Palmer replied. “You look the worse for wear. What happened?”
“Misunderstanding at the Honky Tonk,” Curtis said wryly. “This’ll be a hard one to live down.”
“Ah.” Palmer nodded slowly.
“Just wondering about the inspection,” Curtis went on, eager to change the subject. “That happens today, right?”
“They assured me it will,” Palmer said. “Don’t worry. Everyone is aware of your time constraints for this sale. The lawyers are on it.”
“Good to know.” Curtis nodded. “Thanks.”
“Well, nice to see you.” Palmer rolled his window up and, with another wave, drove on past toward the house. Whatever relationship Palmer had with his aunt might not be his business, but Curtis was mighty curious. Their current veterinary needs were being taken care of by Barrie—and his aunt was a stickler for those kinds of proprieties—so was this...social? Betty had mentioned that they were friends, but buddies didn’t normally warrant lipstick and mascara...did they?
Curtis had wondered about that all the way into Hope, and after running his errands and tossing a couple of bags into the back of his truck, hunger gnawed at his gut. Since he was apparently not invited to lunch back at the ranch, fish and chips would do nicely. Snow started to fall, big fluffy flakes that spun and drifted on their way down.
He parked his truck and got out, glancing into a shop window as he walked past. It was Blossoming Motherhood—a store he hadn’t taken any notice of since his return, but he spotted someone he recognized.
Barrie stood in the shop next to another woman, three plastic bags over one arm. She was smiling about something, and as she spoke to her friend, she started pulling on a pair of gloves. He was frozen to the spot, watching her while she didn’t know she was being observed. There was something about Barrie—a spark
le in her eye when she was honestly amused—that he’d always found intoxicating. Barrie and her friend moved toward the door, and it was then that Barrie looked forward and spotted him. Blast. He looked across the street toward Mutt’s Fish and Chips, then back at Barrie as she came outside onto the sidewalk.
“Hey...” he said.
“Curtis...” Barrie glanced toward her friend, who perked up considerably when she heard his name. “This is my friend Mallory—Detective Cruise’s wife.”
“Ah.” Curtis shook her hand. “Nice to meet you. So I guess you’ve heard about me.”
“A bit.” Mallory shot Barrie a mildly amused look. “Your face doesn’t look as bad as I thought.”
“Nice of you to say,” Curtis muttered ruefully. “I’ll be fine. I didn’t mean to interrupt. I’m just headed over for lunch at Mutt’s.”
“You’re hungry, right, Barrie?” Mallory asked. “And I’m just looking at the time here. I promised my husband I wouldn’t be too long today, so I should probably get back.”
Was that a hint? Barrie licked her lips, giving her friend an unreadable look. Had he been the topic of conversation or something? Probably, considering that Mallory’s husband had been the one to arrest him.
“Yeah, well, Barrie, if you want to join me for lunch, it’s on me,” he said.
“It was great seeing you, girl,” Mallory said, leaning in to give Barrie a squeeze. “Call me!”
With that, Mallory headed off down the sidewalk. Color rose in Barrie’s cheeks.
“She’s not too subtle, is she?” Curtis asked with a low laugh.
“She means well.” Barrie shook her head. “But don’t worry. I’m not going to hold you to that. Have a nice lunch, Curtis. I’ll see you—”
“Barrie.” He put a hand out to stop her. “I was serious about the offer of lunch. If nothing else, I owe you for pain and suffering last night.”
“That was for old times’ sake,” she said. Then she eyed his face a little more closely. “You don’t look half as bad as you did last night.”
His eye was bruised around the temple, but the bruises weren’t as dark as they could have been.
“Thanks to a timely steak.” He smiled. “Look, if you still like fish and chips as much as you used to...”
A small smile tugged at Barrie’s lips.
“Come on,” he cajoled. “People have been staring at you because of the baby, and now I’m drawing stares for this black eye. Let’s give them something to really talk about, and have lunch together.” He winked. “What a scandal.”
“It’s a terrible reason, but Mal was right—I’m starving.” She chuckled. “Let’s go.”
Curtis put a hand on her elbow as they crossed the street. It was only in case she slipped, but he was feeling increasingly protective of Barrie. If she had a guy in her life, he’d have backed off...or would he? He wasn’t so sure anymore. Barrie was no longer his, and he knew that whatever they’d been to each other was rooted in the distant past. But seeing her again, fighting with her, standing so close that he could smell her perfume...
“How are your ribs?” Barrie asked, pulling him out of his thoughts.
“A bit sore, but not too bad,” he said. “They’re only bruised. I told you it wasn’t as bad as it looked.”
“But you always said that.” She ran a hand through her hair. “And you weren’t always telling the truth.”
Yeah, well, back then he hadn’t wanted her to know how bad some of his injuries were—a mixture of male pride and stubbornness. And maybe that hadn’t changed. Curtis pulled open the restaurant’s front door and suppressed a wince at the jab of pain through his ribs. She passed inside ahead of him. A sign told them to seat themselves, and he spotted a booth next to the front windows.
“Food first,” he said, putting a hand on the small of her back and nudging her in the direction of the empty booth. Curtis noticed a few eyes on them as they made their way through the restaurant. A short-lived marriage from fifteen years ago wasn’t ancient enough history for the town of Hope to forget. Was it bad that he was enjoying having people jump to conclusions? Barrie lowered herself onto the bench, then slid in and he seated himself opposite her.
“So, Mallory is Mike’s wife,” Curtis said. He’d known the police officer back when they were all a lot younger, and Mike becoming a cop was pretty surprisingly, actually.
“Mallory was his nanny,” Barrie said. “Mike’s cousin went to prison and left him with her daughter, Katie. So Mike hired Mallory to help out with childcare, and...” She shrugged. “The rest is history.”
“Wow.” He nodded. “I’m happy for him. He was a bit of a jerk last night, but—”
“What did he do?” Barrie asked.
“Besides insisting I call someone?” He raised his eyebrows. “Do I have to take all the blame for that late night phone call?”
Barrie rolled her eyes and picked up a menu. “You weren’t exactly cooperative about medical care, either, you know.”
“You mean not staying put at your place?” he clarified, and her cheeks colored. He’d hit on it. “Barrie, I couldn’t... It was a kind offer, but—”
She lifted her eyes to meet his, and the words evaporated on his tongue. How could she still do that? Curtis cleared his throat.
“I’m still a red-blooded male, Barrie,” he said.
She smiled slightly, then dropped her gaze. “I wasn’t offering anything more than the couch.”
“I know that,” he said. “But I wasn’t going to be able to lie on that couch and know that you were just down a hallway...” He wasn’t sure if he should say anything more, but whatever. He wasn’t here for much longer anyway. “Whatever it was that had me hooked on you back then hasn’t changed. I look at you and...” He heaved a sigh, searching for a way to explain that didn’t sound crude. “I can’t look away.”
She met his gaze once more, but this time her confidence had slipped and he saw uncertainty swirling in her eyes.
“I’m not twenty-two anymore, Curtis,” she said quietly. “I’ve aged. The body that you knew and loved is pretty much gone.” She gestured toward her belly. “Pregnancy will do that, even if fifteen years didn’t. So yeah, we still feel that draw toward each other, but this is different.”
What she didn’t seem to realize was that he no longer craved a twenty-two-year-old. He was no young buck, either, and he wasn’t scared off by the softening of a few years. She was still gorgeous, and if she saw the accumulation of scars on his body, she might be set at ease. The allure that Barrie wielded wasn’t just physical, though. The vows he’d taken on their wedding day had tied him to her in a way that he hadn’t fully appreciated as a twenty-year-old kid. He’d walked away and signed those divorce papers, but it hadn’t severed everything. He missed her.
“I know,” he said soberly. “I’m sorry, Barrie. I’m not trying to cross any boundaries, or—”
“But yes.” Her words were so soft that he almost didn’t hear them.
“Yes?” He leaned forward.
“Yes, I feel it,” she said with a small smile. “And from now on, I’ll be smart enough to curb it.”
Chapter Twelve
The waitress arrived, and Barrie turned her attention back to the menu. The truth was, regardless of their attraction for each other, Curtis was doing what he’d always done—exactly what was best for him.
Curtis ordered a Coke and a plate of fish and chips. His voice was low and familiar, and she hated how her heart tugged toward him. Familiar wasn’t necessarily a good thing—he was still the same guy!
Under the table, Curtis’s leg stretched out and rested against hers. That was something he used to do years ago—she felt her cheeks warm.
“And for you?” The waitress turned toward her.
“Um.” Barrie moved he
r leg. “I’ll have the same, thanks.”
The waitress smiled and whisked off again, leaving them in relative privacy. Barrie needed to get this back into safer territory.
“Curtis,” she said, keeping her voice low. “There was something that’s bothered me all these years.”
“Yeah?” He frowned slightly, and his dark gaze met hers.
“You left.” Barrie sighed. “I know I kicked you out for, like, the fourth time. I know that was childish on my part, but what...” She swallowed. “Why was that time different?”
Because she hadn’t seen it coming. She’d known how much Curtis loved her, and she’d honestly thought that after he’d cooled down, he’d be back and they’d sort something out like they always did. How was she to know that he’d stay away?
“Nothing...” Sadness welled in his eyes. “I know that’s hard to hear. I guess it just finally clicked in my head—you didn’t want this.”
She was silent, her heart pounding. Nothing had been different? So, had their entire marriage been borrowed time?
“When I married you, I had this image of what kind of husband I’d be.” His boot scraped as he pulled his leg back. “I’d take care of you. I’d make you proud. I’d make enough money to keep you comfortable, and crawl into bed next to you at night and know that I was home.”
That sounded wonderful, but she was afraid to say it. “And...”
“It wasn’t like that,” he went on. “I felt like a failure, I guess. I gave you everything I had, and when I tried to stretch a bit so I could give you more, you’d get so angry. That night, when I told you I wanted to go on the circuit—go together on that circuit—you got this look on your face like I was nuts, and I suddenly saw myself through your eyes.”
“I never thought you were a loser,” she said earnestly. “I promise you that.”
“I wasn’t a provider, though,” he said with a shrug. “Not enough of one. You were used to more. And I certainly wasn’t measuring up. When I suggested doing something together away from Hope and away from your parents and all those expectations, I could see in your face that you didn’t trust me. You needed this town to feel safe, because you didn’t feel safe with me.”
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