Six Pack Ranch: Books 1-3

by Vivian Arend

  The flutter of constant sexual interest she fought whenever he was around made it easy to smile at him. The tough part was making sure she didn’t look hungry at the same time.

  “Mr. Coleman.”

  Matt glanced over his shoulder. Hope laughed before she realized he hadn’t done it to fool around. He was actually blushing when he turned back, his cheeks flushed from more than coming in out of the cold.

  “Sorry, but that’s my father’s name, and I couldn’t figure out how the hell he got into town faster than me when last I saw him…” He faded off then simply grinned. “Hi, how you doing?”

  “Good. You doing your Christmas shopping?” There was a possibility, although she’d probably discount the sale too far to actually make any money if he was buying something for Marion. Guilt and desire were bad companions to private enterprise.

  “Actually, I’m here to apologize. I was thinking about when I rescued you, and I messed up badly. I’ve been feeling terrible about it ever since.”

  What? “You’ve felt guilty for rescuing me?”

  Matt pulled off his gloves and coat, hanging them on the rack beside the quilting table. “Of course not, but the way I rescued you meant some of your supplies got damaged. There was no reason for that—I had a chain and could have hauled you clear easy enough. Now, I’m willing to pay for what—”

  “Oh no.” Hope shook her head vigorously. “No bloody way. It was an accident, and you’re not responsible for anything except pretty much saving my life. I could have frozen to death if you hadn’t come along when you did.”

  He wasn’t listening. Instead he was rolling up his sleeves, firm forearms coming into view, the dusting of hair over the muscles making her hyperaware of his every move.

  She had it bad when even a glimpse of his arms was enough to get her wet. She crossed her own arms in self-defense and attempted to concentrate.

  “What are you doing?” He paced the store, and she followed, dragging her gaze off his ass just in time as he spun around, wide smile beaming down.

  “Just checking out the place. You’ve got some neat stuff in here. I mean, I already knew you had quilts, but there’s a lot of different projects.”

  “Anytime you want to take up sewing…”

  He leaned a hip on the cutting table, and the broad surface slid away from him. Matt stood rapidly as she grabbed for the edge and rebalanced it.

  “Shit, sorry about that. I usually stand in the middle and brace it with my knee when I cut.”

  He held out a hand. “I can fix that for you.”

  Suspicion snuck over her. She turned and examined the bucket he’d had in his hands. The one he’d placed on the floor that she’d ignored while distracted by all the rest of him. It was filled with hammers and screwdrivers and other tools. “Matt, what are you doing here?”

  He glanced around, feet shuffling in place like a naughty kid caught in the act. “Just thought I might offer you a hand. You know, brace the table, adjust shelves, anything that you need help with.”

  “And you would do this because…?”

  “I want to?”

  Yeah, right. “Sure. You got up this morning and decided ‘I have nothing better to do today. I should volunteer my services to Hope.’ Is that it?”

  Matt shrugged. “Well, I had a coffee first, but then yeah, that was pretty much what happened.”

  Hope laughed. “Aren’t you a shitty liar? Don’t worry, you don’t have to feel guilty about anything getting ruined when I went off the road. I got everything back and most of it survived the adventure. It’s good, and frankly? Being saved from that ditch—you were right. It was just stuff and neither of our lives was worth risking. Please, put your guilt aside.”

  The door opened, the bell ringing sweetly through the shop. This time it was a customer, so Hope waved farewell at Matt and went to help the woman.

  Only, he didn’t leave, or not for good. At one point he headed out the door and she thought the strange visit was over, but before long he was back, coat once again on the hook, light tapping noises coming from the cutting area where he popped up and down like a broken jack-in-the-box. The entire time she pulled embroidery floss from the cupboard and helped her customer gather items for a project, he was there in the background. After the third time she’d forgotten what number thread she was going for, she steadfastly ignored him.

  A few more people wandered in, and Hope got busy serving and chatting with the ladies, admiring projects and pictures of completed gifts they’d already mailed off to relatives for the holiday season.

  It was over an hour later before she realized she was alone with him in the shop. It was obvious, no matter what she said, he was going to do whatever he pleased.

  She wasn’t sure if that pissed her off or if she liked his stubbornness.

  After filling a mug with coffee, she brought it over and placed it in front of him. “If you’re planning on staying much longer, you should know I will drape a display quilt over your back.”

  Matt stood, pausing to brush his palms against his thighs before picking up the coffee and taking a long swallow. He closed his eyes as he hummed in approval, and she allowed herself one brief fantasy of kissing her way across his firm jawline, tasting his lips.

  She snapped her gaze back up to meet his, attempting her most innocent expression possible.

  He was grinning. “Am I in your way?”

  She shrugged. “Not really, but I still don’t understand what you’re up to. Go home, Matt. If you don’t have chores to do, you certainly don’t need to waste a day off in my shop.”

  He moved aside a basket full of patterns for Christmas ornaments and sat on the stool he’d cleared. “Yes, I’ve got some time off today, but I don’t consider it a waste to spend it here.”

  Bloody fool. “What the hell is going on? Just tell me.”

  “I want to help you.”

  “I didn’t ask for help.”

  “But you said we were going to be friends.”

  Hope opened her mouth to respond and nothing came out. Friends. The night she’d offered that word to him rushed back. Her brain flooded with too many erotic images. Him stripping down, his cock tenting the front of his boxers. She might have had her eyes open a tiny crack as he stripped, and her penance was that now she had a good idea exactly what size equipment he was packing.

  The sight of him, the feel of his hard body underneath hers in the tub—all of it rendered her speechless to respond.

  Friends?

  Good Lord. She was going to die right there in the shop.

  He waited, sipping the coffee, one hand resting lightly on his thigh. The way the man filled out a pair of jeans ought to be illegal.

  And while she had been the one to propose the friendship business, it had never been intended as anything more than a situation-saving comment. Friends with Matt? Bullshit on that, unless he meant the wave-to-each-other-across-the-street type of friend. That was the only safe kind considering how her body reacted to him.

  Hope had to get out of this, and fast.

  “Okay, friend, I don’t need any repair work done right now.”

  “Fixed your table.”

  She reached for the edge instinctively and attempted to move it. Nothing shifted, not even when she used two hands.

  His grin got wider.

  “Okay, great. Thank you for that—I appreciate it, and I’ll appreciate it even more the next time I have to cut some fabric and don’t have to do an octopus imitation to keep everything vertical.”

  He put down his empty cup. “So, what else?”

  “For you to fix?”

  Matt nodded, his grey eyes taking in the shop. “You having heater problems? I can tweak the settings for you.”

  He was not giving up, but neither was she. “I turn down the heat at night to save on my electric bill. It takes a while to warm up, that’s all. The shop is a big space, and with the picture windows in the front, this cold weather doesn’t help.”

&n
bsp; “How about a timer? Show me the thermostat and I’ll explain how they work—if you’re trying to save money but want the shop to be comfy first thing in the morning for customers, that’s one way to deal with it.”

  She grabbed his empty cup and returned it to the small kitchen counter before taking him to the control panel. While he explained, she fussed with a couple displays, trying to balance this Matt with all the other ones crowding her brain. The staring-with-lust-filled-eyes version had been her favourite, even if his mistake last summer still made her crazy.

  Years ago he’d been the older guy coming around the house, taking care of Helen, and by extension, little sis as well. To all of a sudden have that guy back was weird.

  In a disheartening although sobering kind of way.

  Fine. The friend-of-the-family type was safer. She could put her fantasizing back on the shelf next to her vibrator and leave Matt Coleman firmly in the just-a-guy category in real life. It’s what she’d asked for, right?

  “So you want me to install one?”

  She scrambled to remember what they were talking about. Thermostats. “If you tell me what to buy, I can bring it in.”

  “I have time now—I’ll go grab one.”

  Hope nodded slowly. “Fine, let me get you the cash you need.”

  He waved it off. “Don’t worry, I’ll—”

  Anger bubbled up. She wasn’t even sure where it came from. “I will not take your charity, Matt Coleman.”

  He caught her by the arm as she pushed past him toward the front of the store. “You a mind reader now?”

  “If you want to help me out that’s one thing, but spending money—”

  “I was going to buy the thermostat then give you the receipt, since I have no idea how much it will cost.”

  Her annoyance fizzled away like a deflating balloon. Hope shuffled to a stop and stared at the ground. She forced a smile, the edges feeling twisted. “Well, seems I know how to jump to conclusions almost as well as I drive.”

  He made his way through to where his coat hung and shrugged it on. “Easy enough mistake.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “No problem.” He stopped at the door then turned to face her. “We really are two whacked-out fools, aren’t we?”

  There were too many ways to interpret that comment, especially accompanied by his serious expression. She sighed. “Can we blame it on holiday stress? That’s what everyone seems to do these days.”

  He stared her down. “Hope, you were right the other day. When you said Helen deserted us both.”

  Deserted all right. “She’s not my favourite person in the world, but I try to not dwell on it.”

  Matt nodded slowly. He didn’t say anything else, just slipped out the door into the cold December day.

  Hope walked to the front display window and watched him cross the street to the hardware store. She had no idea what was going on in his head, but she was dangerously close to making a terrible mistake. A mistake like letting him know that she thought of him more often than a friend should.

  And after all the pain Helen had caused, dragging him though another dramatic situation was the last thing she wanted.

  She leaned her forehead against the cool glass, the heated air from her lungs fogging the window and slowly blocking her vision. Time for a change of mindset, starting now.

  After all these years of pretending, dancing on stage and putting on a show, she should be able to do this. When she’d danced she’d made it seem as if she’d wanted every single man she looked in the eye more passionately than her next breath. This was another sort of illusion. Categorize him as hands-off—or even better, just a casual acquaintance. Make sure everything she said and did shouted that loud and clear.

  Plus, Rocky Mountain House was a small town, but not that small. After Matt had done a few repairs to shed his guilt over her ruined things, she should be able to avoid him. They’d been out of touch for years at one point. With a little effort on her part, she could make that a reality again.

  Letting Matt move on with his life was more than important, it was vital. Because it would be a sign she’d actually moved on with her own. Getting past the hurt of Helen’s desertion? Financially she got enough reminders of that every damn month, but even there she was determined to win her way back.

  But being caught up in longing for a man she could never have was slowly killing her. She had to give up these silly unanswerable fantasies if she ever wanted to find a way to be truly happy.

  And fortunately, distraction had already given her permission to call. Hope stepped to the phone and dialed before she could change her mind.

  6

  The cold air vanished in a blast of heat as Matt entered the bar, his cousin and brother following right behind. Gabe directed him to the side while Travis shrugged his way up to the bar and ordered three beers.

  “You picked a hell of a night to go out,” Gabe complained. He eyeballed the dance floor before brightening as he slapped Matt between the shoulders. “But then, since I see more than one group of females without company, I’ll be magnanimous and forgive you.”

  “It’s December in Alberta. It’s going to be cold. Get over it.”

  “Hey, I’m not the one looking at lambing season starting within the month.”

  “Don’t remind me.” Matt took off his gloves and stuffed them in his coat pocket.

  His brother sauntered up. “The only thing good about lambing is that we’ve got enough barn space they don’t have to drop them outdoors. It’s filthy and exhausting work, but at least it’s moderately warm.”

  Travis set down two long-necked bottles, hanging on to the third for himself, and turned to get a better view of the room.

  “I’ll drink to that.” Matt snapped up one bottle and passed the last to Gabe.

  “You boys are lucky you switched your schedule. Still haven’t convinced my dad that calving in February is old school and timing them for April is a hell of a lot easier on the body and the feed costs.”

  From then on, Matt pretty much ignored the conversation between Travis and Gabe. Ranching discussions had already filled his day. He didn’t want it to be what he talked about all damn night as well.

  But it was good to get out of his trailer. Maybe find a little companionship for the night.

  Someone to get his mind off Hope Meridan, because she was pretty much all he’d been thinking about since last week, sorry son of a gun that he was.

  It wasn’t just the feel of her under him, but the little things he’d started to obsess over. Like her ready smile. Her stubborn refusal to allow him to do anything for her without complaining first.

  The music was loud enough there was no need to pretend he wanted to contribute to the conversation. He leaned back on his stool and peered around, checking to see who was out that he recognized.

  His gaze skittered over the dance floor, and his meager supply of calm and relaxed whooshed away.

  Hope had her arms draped around Clay Thompson’s neck, and they were both smiling way too much for this to be a first casual hello dance. Hell, he couldn’t see any daylight between them either, and the way Hope was wiggling, Clay had to be pressed nice and tight to her soft breasts and…

  Fuck it. Matt picked up his bottle and chugged back a few long swallows. No reason why she couldn’t be here. She was a grown-up. Clay was too.

  But it was impossible to pull his gaze away. She had on skintight jeans, faded patches on the ass, all her ample curves right out there and visible. Clay had tucked his thumbs into her belt loops, fingers spread over her butt as they swayed together. Hope rested her head on his chest, the motion turning her face toward Matt. She’d closed her eyes, face relaxed and a hint of smile on her lips.

  It was the most peaceful Matt had ever seen her, and something ached inside.

  He wasn’t wishing her anything less than happiness, but there was this strange sensation that rushed him. He stared at Clay’s hands as the man moved them slowly over Hop
e’s body, and the ache switched to something sharper and needier.

  Matt sipped his beer and deliberately rotated his stool so they weren’t in his line of vision. That brought him into direct sight of a Christmas party group of women, gazes darting over him and the boys. Travis was already making a move. He lifted his bottle in salute, then grinned at Matt and Gabe when a couple ladies headed their direction in response.

  “You guys know how to dance? Because we need some exercise and our favourite song is about to come on.” Their spokesperson shook her head back and smiled enticingly.

  “What’s your favourite song?” Travis teased. He stood and stepped behind them, hands resting lightly on their shoulders.

  “Any that we’re dancing with you?”

  “Well, I’m all for making your night a little brighter.” Travis took her by the hand and led her toward the floor.

  Gabe rose and reached for the other lady. He paused and motioned with his head as he spoke to Matt. “You joining us on the floor?”

  Matt glanced away, catching sight of Clay moving toward the bathrooms. Hope sat at a table with a glass in her hand. Damn it anyway. “Yeah.”

  But he didn’t head to the partiers’ table to find his own dance partner. His feet carried him the other direction, and he found himself staring at Hope, wondering what the hell he was doing. “Hey.”

  She glanced up, and her smile vanished as she slammed her lips together. “Matt?”

  Awkwardness edged along his spine, and he felt about ten years old. “How are you?”

  Hope snuck a peek toward the bathrooms. “Good. What’re you doing?”

  I have no fucking idea was the first thing in his brain. Couldn’t say that though. Like a damn fool, he slipped into the empty seat across from her. That at least put the table between them so he wouldn’t do anything stupid like dragging her from her chair and into his arms. “Just getting in some relaxation before the winter lambs start arriving. How are you?”

  She leaned back, her uncomfortable expression twisting with amusement, and he realized he’d repeated himself. “Just fine. Not much changed since two seconds ago. Or since I saw you last week. Life’s not that interesting.”