by Linda Turner
There was no way of knowing that by just looking at it, however, so he turned off the water, grabbed some tools from the trunk of his car, and went to work. A few minutes later, he'd installed a new washer, just in case that was the problem, but the second he turned the water back on and tested the faucet, it started dripping again.
Another man might have left it at that point, and waited to see what Merry wanted to do about it. And for all of two seconds, Nick considered that. After all, it wasn't like he didn't have things to do at his own house. And Merry hadn't asked him to do this for her. He could lock up and leave and she'd never even know he looked at it.
But she wasn't all that handy around the house, he reminded himself. There wasn't much she didn't know about animals, but when it came to tools, he doubted if she knew a pipe wrench from a pair of pliers. If she tried to fix it herself, she'd no doubt have water all over the kitchen floor and still end up having to call a plumber, who would charge her a fortune to drive all the way out to the ranch from town. Why should she have to do all that when he was right there and could do it for her?
The decision made, he turned off the water—again—and maneuvered his head and shoulders under the sink so he could disconnect the entire faucet. Five minutes later, he was headed for town and the hardware store.
* * *
Exhausted, Merry felt like she'd been through a war. She was dirty and tired, every bone in her body ached, and she didn't have to feel her hair to know that she had straw in it. And she couldn't stop smiling. She'd done it! She'd actually delivered two healthy foals and saved their mother, and no one knew better than she just how rare that was. She'd been practicing veterinary medicine for seven years and this was only the third time she'd encountered a multiple birth in horses. Each of the other times, one of the foals had died.
But not this time, she thought with a huge grin. Both foals were healthy and strong, and Harland was as thrilled as she was. When he'd realized that his precious Princess Leah and both her foals were going to make it, he'd enveloped Merry in a bear hug that had nearly cracked her ribs. In spite of the fact that it wasn't even noon, he'd pulled out the champagne he'd had on ice for the last three weeks in anticipation of the foaling and insisted Merry have a glass. In the mood to party, he'd been on the phone calling everyone he knew when she finally left.
Just thinking about the way he'd danced around the barn when he'd seen the beautiful twin foals brought a huge grin to her face. She was still smiling when she pulled into her driveway and saw Nick's car out front. Not even stopping to wonder what he was still doing there, she grabbed the bottle of champagne Harland had insisted she take home with her and rushed inside.
"Nick? Guess what? I just delivered twins!"
In the process of trying out the new faucet he'd just installed, Nick turned to see her bolt into the kitchen with a grin the size of Texas on her face. "Twins? You're kidding! And they're both okay?"
"They're fabulous! You should see them. They've got three white stockings and a little touch of white right in the middle of their chest…" Suddenly noticing the tools spread out on her kitchen counter, she frowned. "I was so excited, I didn't stop to think. What are you still doing here? I thought you left hours ago. My God, you fixed my faucet!"
Caught red-handed, he shrugged sheepishly. "Actually, it couldn't be fixed, so I got you a new one. I hope you don't mind."
"Mind?" she laughed. "Are you kidding? Every time the damn thing dripped, I promised myself I was going to call a plumber, but then I'd get busy and forget all about it. Gosh, this must be my red-letter day. Thank you!"
Delighted, she impulsively stepped forward to give him a hug, and just that easily they found themselves in each other's arms. For a startled moment, neither of them moved. Blue eyes, dark with awareness, stared into brown, and two hearts that had just moments before beat steadily now stumbled into a frantic, dizzy rhythm.
Nick told himself to let her go—it was the smart thing to do—but when she started to pull back, he found he couldn't. Not when he had her this close and he'd been thinking of nothing but her the entire time he'd worked on her faucet. With a murmur of need, he pulled her close and covered her mouth with his.
It was a whisper of a kiss, a promise of desire, a sweet entreaty of tenderness that was over almost before it had begun. Seduced, the roar of her blood loud in her ears, Merry gazed up at Nick with glazed eyes and couldn't for the life of her think of her own name. She couldn't have said how many times she'd been kissed since Thomas had first kissed her when she was fourteen, but no man had ever destroyed her so easily with just a languid brush of mouth against mouth.
Confused, unsure of the emotions he stirred in her so effortlessly, she stared up into his eyes searchingly "Nick…"
"Have dinner with me," he urged hoarsely. "We'll celebrate the birth of the twins."
She should have said no—somewhere in the back of her head, she knew that. She'd just been out with him last night, though she refused to think of that as a date, and she'd almost had breakfast with him this morning. If she was going to keep a handle on her emotions and not let things get out of control, she had to take things slow and easy. And there'd been nothing the least bit slow or easy about the kiss he'd just given her.
Knowing that, she should have thanked him and politely declined. After everything she'd been through, he would have understood. But that kiss that had set her heart thumping had also tempted her past bearing. How could she have known him all her life and never known that the man knew how to kiss like that? Fascinated, unable to resist the idea of going out with him on an honest-to-goodness-real-live date, she couldn't bring herself to turn him down.
"I'd love to," she said huskily. "What time would you like to pick me up?"
"Seven."
A slow smile curling the corners of her mouth, she nodded, "I'll be ready."
* * *
The clock on the nightstand beside her bed read 6:45, and Merry still hadn't decided what she was going to wear. Panicking, she looked from the pile of clothes she'd tried on, then pulled off and tossed on her bed, to the few dresses still hanging in her closet and realized she was quickly running out of choices.
"What are you doing, Merry?" she muttered aloud to herself. "You're not meeting the queen, for God's sake! It's just Nick. Pick something—anything, dammit!—before he gets here and finds you in your underwear!"
But she couldn't decide if she wanted to wear a dress or pants, and nothing seemed to fit right. And all the while, the clock continued to tick. Please let him be late, she prayed silently as she tugged on a pair of white slacks and a blue silk blouse. It was a nice outfit, but it just wasn't special enough, and with a muttered curse, she quickly unbuttoned the blouse.
When the doorbell rang at a few minutes to seven, she'd just wriggled out of the last dress in her closet and thrown it on the bed. "Oh, God!"
Glancing wildly around her bedroom, which looked like it had been hit by a tornado, she looked around for something else to put on. Everything she owned had been discarded on the bed, however, and she was left with nothing to wear but her robe. Mortified, she pulled it on and hastily buttoned it to the throat. In all the years she'd been dating, nothing like this had ever happened to her. He was going to think she was an idiot.
Color burning her cheeks, she hurried to the front door, all the while racking her brain for a reason for not being ready. In the end, all she could offer was the truth. "I'm sorry," she said the second she pulled open the door. "I couldn't decide what to wear."
He, on the other hand, had obviously had no such trouble. Dressed in khakis, a white shirt, and navy blue blazer, he looked wonderful. And, she noted, not the least bit nervous.
"No problem," he said easily. "Take your time."
With a nod, she quickly escaped to her bedroom and never saw Nick restlessly pace the length of her living room. Pulling at his tie, he knew exactly how she felt. He wasn't usually that particular about what he wore, but he'd changed ties three times and sha
ved twice before he'd finally been satisfied with his appearance.
He'd told himself there was no reason to be nervous—he was just going out to dinner with the woman he was crazy about. Then he'd seen her, and he'd realized that it didn't matter what they did tonight. They could have been going fishing or roller skating or up to her mother's to play dominoes, and he would have felt the same. It made no sense, but every instinct he had told him their entire future was riding on this one night. And it scared the hell out of him.
* * *
Chapter 10
«^»
He took her to Tony's, a country inn north of Eagle Ridge that was set high on the edge of a cliff and offered a commanding view of the mountains that surrounded it on all sides. Quiet and secluded, the inn was famous for its steaks and wine list and its outdoor patio, where couples could dine by candlelight and dance to the music of a live band on warm summer nights.
Merry had heard about the place for years, but she'd never been there, and as the maitre d' escorted them to their table on the stone patio, she knew she was in for one of the most romantic evenings of her life when Nick seated her himself. Pulling out her chair for her, he waited until she was seated and she'd adjusted the full skirt of her aqua blue sundress, then he leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to the back of her bare neck.
Shivers danced over her skin, drawing a soft gasp from her before she had a prayer of hiding her reaction from him. Her eyes wide with awareness, she watched as he came around the table to take his own seat across from her, but he only smiled and reached for her hand. Slowly, his thumb rubbed across the back of her knuckles, stealing the air from her lungs breath by breath. And just that easily, he pulled her into a fantasy, a fairy tale, a beautiful romantic dream unlike anything she'd ever experienced before.
It was a Sunday night, but the place was packed—all around them, other couples murmured quietly to each other, laughed and danced and enjoyed the evening, but Merry never noticed anyone but Nick. To the west, the sun slipped behind the mountains, painting the sky orange and magenta, while overhead, the stars came out one by one, but it was the heat in Nick's eyes that set her heart pounding in her breast. Fascinated, she couldn't look away.
"Would you like to dance before we order?"
Unable to resist the chance to be in his arms, she nodded, "I'd love to."
Music floated on the evening air, soft and dreamy and romantic, as Nick escorted her to the dance floor and turned her into his arms. Feeling as if she'd come home, Merry sighed in contentment and settled her head against his shoulder. With a will of their own, her feet fell into step with his, and with no effort whatsoever, they were dancing.
Later, she couldn't have named a single song the band played or said if the wine they drank with their meal was white or red. Time slowed to a crawl, the world and all its complications slipped away until only the two of them were left, lost in each other's eyes.
It was the most magical evening of Merry's life. Again and again, they returned to the dance floor. Dancing on air, she could have stayed right where she was the rest of the night, swaying to one love song after another in Nick's arms.
It couldn't, however, last. "Ladies and gentlemen," the lead singer of the band said as the last strains of "Mona Lisa" faded into silence, "we hope you've enjoyed your evening here at Tony's. It's time to call it a night, but not without one more song."
Blinking as if coming out of a daze, Merry looked around as other couples made preparations to leave. "Why is the band stopping so early?"
Chuckling, Nick took her hand and linked his fingers with hers. "It's nearly midnight, Cinderella. Time to get you home before we both turn into pumpkins."
"Midnight!" Stunned, she glanced at her watch in disbelief and discovered that it was, indeed, five till twelve. "I would have sworn it was barely nine o'clock. Did we have dessert?"
He'd had his every time he got to hold her in his arms, but that was something he kept to himself. Amusement dancing in his eyes, he couldn't help but grin at her as he settled the bill with their waiter. It was always amazing to him how she stayed so thin. The lady did love sweets. "No, I don't think we did. Would you like to stop at Ed's on the way home and get some chocolate pie?"
He didn't have to ask her twice. "Could we?"
Chuckling, he tugged her toward the closest exit. "We'll have to hurry. Ed closes at one."
* * *
They made it in record time, laughing and panting as they rushed into the diner just ten minutes before it closed. Ed, who seemed to always be there regardless of the time of day or night, took one look at Merry and turned away to dish her up a slice of pie. "What about you, Nick? You having the same?"
He nodded, grinning. "And coffee, Ed. Thanks."
"My reputation precedes me," Merry said with twinkling eyes as they slid into a booth.
Handling the small late-night crowd by himself, Ed delivered their food to their table almost immediately. When he set the largest slice of pie directly in front of her, then just stood there, his expression fierce as he waited for her to taste it, Merry didn't bat an eye.
Taking a generous bite, she sighed in delight as the creamy chocolate melted on her tongue. "Mmm. Delicious, Ed. The best so far."
They played the game every time she came in, and he knew his part as well as she did. His lips just barely twitching, he nodded somberly. "Damn straight," he growled, then ruined everything with a wink.
Chuckling, Merry watched him stalk off to check on the only other customer in the place. "Old softie."
"Only with the people he likes," Nick said as he, too, dug into his pie. "You're just lucky he happens to be crazy about you. Otherwise, I would have gotten the bigger piece. Damn, this is good!"
It was, in fact, the best pie that either of them had ever put a fork to. And given the chance, they would have lingered over every bite, savoring it as they talked and joked and put off ending the evening. Ed would have refilled their coffee cups as long as they sat there and never once mentioned that they were keeping him past closing, but they couldn't let him do that. Not when he had to be back in at six-thirty to open the diner for the breakfast crowd. So by mutual agreement, they refused refills on coffee, finished the last mouthwatering bite of their pie, and rose to leave only five minutes past Ed's normal closing time.
Up until then, Merry hadn't given much thought to what would happen once they reached her house. But now, as Nick opened the passenger door of his car for her and waited for her to buckle up before shutting the door and coming around to slide behind the wheel, she only had to look at his face to know that he intended to kiss her goodnight once they reached her house. And he wouldn't, she knew, give her an innocent peck on the cheek this time. He'd kiss her the way a man kissed the woman he was in love with. Just thinking about it made her heart start to pound in anticipation.
So what was all that baloney earlier about taking things slow and easy? a caustic voice taunted in her head. Or did you forget that?
She hadn't—she'd just been having so much fun that she hadn't thought that far ahead. But now as they left town behind and headed for the ranch, nervousness twisted her stomach in knots. After spending hours dancing in his arms, she readily admitted that she wanted him to kiss her—more than once. And that was what worried her. She didn't seem to have any control where he was concerned, and if she didn't do something fast, she was going to be in serious trouble in about ten minutes flat.
Just barely resisting the need to twist her hands together like a nervous virgin, she blurted out, "We need to talk."
Not taking his eyes off the road in case a deer or elk ran out in front of him, Nick said, "What about?"
"Sex."
That got his attention. His eyes shooting to hers in the darkness for all of two seconds, he immediately brought his gaze back to the road. "An interesting topic," he murmured dryly. "What about it?"
He was laughing at her—she was sure of it when she saw his lips twitch in the glow of the dash l
ights—but she'd never been more serious about anything in her life. "I won't pretend I'm not attracted to you," she said huskily. "I am, and it scares me to death."
"Why?"
The rough timbre of his voice wrapped around her in the dark, soothing her, encouraging her to confide in him, and before she knew it, she found herself opening her heart to him. "I don't know what to do with all these emotions you stir in me," she said thickly as her eyes started to sting with tears. "I want you to kiss me, to hold me, but then I remember Thomas, and I feel like there's something wrong with me. I'm not supposed to feel this way so soon! And certainly not with you!"
"Why not me?"
"Because…" How could she explain it to him when she didn't understand it herself? "I don't know," she said helplessly. "I've gone over it in my head a hundred times and the only thing that comes to mind is that you're Nick. You're my best friend. You were the one who taught me to parallel park and got me through geometry. You were there when my father died … and made me laugh when Thomas made me cry. You're like a brother—but you're not. And that's the problem. I don't know where you fit in my life anymore. And until I do…"
When she hesitated, he shot her another quick, sharp glance. "Until you do … what? Go ahead. You've come this far. Don't chicken out on me now."
She'd never run from anything in her life—she didn't intend to start tonight. Lifting her chin, she said, "I think it would be best if we left sex out of our relationship. That would only complicate things more than they already are."
She expected him to argue, to at least try to change her mind, but he surprised her by completely agreeing with her. "We're both adults," he said in that deep, raspy voice that she loved. "That shouldn't be a problem."
Taken aback, she arched a brow at him. "So you don't mind?"
"I'm not a Neanderthal," he assured her. "I can control my baser instincts."
Not sure if she was relieved or disappointed, she didn't know if she wanted to laugh or cry. "Well," she huffed, "I'm glad we got that settled."
