Six Pack Ranch: Books 1-3

by Vivian Arend

  Blake laughed. “Good thing you said almost, because I don’t ever remember you turning down the opportunity for food.”

  A bell rang and their conversation stopped instantly as years of training from their ma kicked in. Inside, Matt chuckled, although he’d never let her see it. No matter how old they got, she had them under control.

  With all attention turned her way, Marion waved a hand like the matriarch she was. “Don’t worry, we have more food coming later, but I thought I’d remind you boys to get a move on with the dishes. And this time? Take the little ones with you. I think they’re all big enough to help.”

  The oldest of her grandsons, Lance, grimaced, but the littlest cheered and Matt laughed as he joined the rest of the men headed for the kitchen.

  Everywhere he looked he saw family. Blake and Daniel had Robbie up on a stool, rinsing dishes before passing them to his brothers to fit into the dishwasher. His dad and Travis were transferring leftovers, sneaking final tidbits off the nearly empty platters. The twins were already into the hand washing in the second sink, a loud conversation-slash-argument about something inconsequential flapping between them.

  It felt good to belong, to be a part of the whole. But the real reason he was a happy man was the woman sitting out in the living room with the other ladies of the clan. The woman who’d come to mean more to him than he thought possible.

  Joel was right. They were sailing into the busiest season on the ranch, and he still had a few commitments to meet. A bit of advance planning was in order and what better time than now, when he had a captive audience. Matt pushed himself into the middle of the room where they could all see him and cleared his throat.

  “Guys, you can rag on me all you want later, but I need your help.”

  Hope held Rebecca from falling as she teetered on unsteady toddler legs. “Things are good.”

  Jaxi and Beth exchanged looks.

  Hope frowned. “What’s that for?”

  Beth shook her head. “I know I’m newer to the area but even I’ve figured this one out. Things aren’t good when you’re involved with a Coleman. They’re either pissing you off or making you crazily content. So spill. You and Matt?”

  “Pissed or crazy? Definitely crazy.”

  Jaxi laughed. “And…that’s all I could get out of her as well. Hope, you’re the most closed-mouth person I know when it comes to some stuff.”

  “You tell me. You really want me to describe our sex lives?”

  The little one on the floor, Rachel, clapped her hands and laughed as she shook a rattle enthusiastically. Jaxi snorted. “Oh no, baby girl. You’re gonna stay sweet and innocent for a long, long time. No cheering for Auntie Hope to spill details about the luscious sex games her and Uncle Matt are playing.”

  Something twisted inside at being called auntie. Hope turned her attention fully on Rebecca to hide the mix of pain and pleasure the word brought.

  Jaxi squeezed her arm quickly, as if she understood. “Now since you won’t talk about the juicy stuff, what’s the word on Helen? How’s she behaving these days?”

  “Better since Matt’s cousin had a word with her.”

  “You talking about Anna Coleman? You did call the police, then? I’d heard bits and pieces, but Daniel and I didn’t get the full story.” Beth put her tea down on the side table and pulled Rebecca into her arms. The little girl tucked her head against Beth’s chest and sighed heavily, wiggling in and closing her eyes. “Jaxi, I swear you’ve got these girls bewitched. She’s going to sleep with no fussing?”

  Jaxi grimaced. “No, not bewitched. They save all the wild antics for when they’ve got Blake and me alone. In public? They’re the sweetest things, just so I can’t complain about them being cranky without people thinking I’m out of my mind.”

  Beth laughed then turned the question back to Hope. “Did you have to bring charges against Helen?”

  Hope shook her head. “Matt had Anna come talk to me—she suggested a friendly conversation was the best first step. Something witnessed by an official-type person, but not in an official capacity, if you understand what I mean. I didn’t want to have to get Helen arrested—and Anna agreed, she didn’t think Helen had done anything but cause mischief. So Anna and I set up a meeting with her.”

  “Did she explain herself?”

  That was the most confusing part. “She didn’t seem to know what we were talking about at first. I thought she was lying, but Anna suggested to me later that Helen might have been drunk and simply not remembered what she’d done. Matt said she’d sounded funny when she’d called him.”

  Jaxi shook her head. “I still think there was too much forward planning for it to all be some drunken binge. Calling both Clay and Matt, knowing it was your day off? Doesn’t make sense if she was so drunk she was out of it.”

  It did seem organized, but Hope was ready to put that behind her.

  After all, the results had turned out rather spectacular. She tried not to think too hard about the afternoon she and Matt had spent in bed after the misunderstanding.

  Yeah, things had moved forward the right way that day, and she was so thankful.

  Beth adjusted the sleeping baby in her arms. “And the situation is better now?”

  Hope sighed. “I’ve heard nothing from Helen lately, which…well, it’s not what I want in the long run, but it’s great for temporary. I don’t have time to deal with her and whatever it was she was trying to accomplish.”

  “Maybe someday she’ll come around.” Jaxi shrugged. “I understand that part. The wanting things to turn out the way you want, but really, the ball is in her court. Helen’s got to make the first move, and one that’s positive and not an attack.”

  Hope could acknowledge that in her head, but her heart was still hesitating. “I’ll just give it time, I guess.”

  Beth nodded. “Sometimes that’s all you can do—wait and see. But in the meantime, enjoy the good things you’ve got.”

  Hope grinned.

  Marion chose that moment to return, and the conversation turned to other topics. Hope listened with contentment, her pleasure increasing when the guys rambled back into the room. Matt made a beeline for her side and wrapped himself around her. Taking her into his arms, his family.

  His heart? If she was lucky—

  No, if they worked at it right.

  25

  The noises of the Spring Fair rose and fell around her as Hope hurried through the freestanding booths toward the main hall. There were too many things on her to-do list and not enough hours in the day right now. Which was wonderful, because it meant the shop was in full swing and doing well, and terrible because she hadn’t seen Matt in nearly three weeks.

  They’d talked on the phone, briefly. When his phone didn’t die, or he didn’t get called away for the arrival of another calf, or he wasn’t crashing from exhaustion. The ranch was small enough they dealt with calving season with just the Coleman boys, but big enough they were run ragged keeping up. And when the April calving was completed, they’d be busy in the fields.

  She’d been tempted to go over and crawl into his bed. To be there when he did stumble in, but figured that wouldn’t be fair when he was burnt out. Last thing he needed was her keeping him from his well-deserved sleep.

  Even though she ached to be back in his arms.

  Ahead was the wall where the quilts up for auction were displayed, large banners at their sides announcing the sponsors’ names.

  The Thompsons had completed a simple four-patch, and she had to say she was impressed. The dark colours the guys had picked went together well, as did the bright reds and whites of the fire hall’s contribution. In all, there were eight offerings, ranging from a baby quilt to a slightly lopsided queen-sized. She’d hung them the previous night with the fire chief’s assistance, pleased to be able to give back to the place she’d chosen as her home community.

  The only quilt missing when they’d set things up had been the Colemans’. Matt had called earlier in the wee
k and promised it would be delivered by that morning. Hope had to wiggle through the crowds waiting and pointing upward, shuffling slowly along the line as they dropped their raffle tickets into the bags for the fundraiser. A whisper went ahead of her and the faces turning toward her were smile-filled—as if they all knew a secret she didn’t.

  “She’s here…”

  A path opened, and Hope wondered what was going on. “Don’t let me get in your way. I don’t need to do anything else for the raffle.”

  Gramma Martin stood to the side and ushered her ahead. “Oh, there’s one more thing you need to take care of this morning.”

  Shoot. Had one of the quilts fallen off? She hurried forward, gaze darting over the wall, but she couldn’t see anything wrong with the display. There was an extra quilt tacked up on the right edge—the space she’d left for the Colemans’ contribution. She looked eagerly to see what they’d managed to come up with.

  They’d made a wall hanging. Smaller in size, maybe two feet along each side, a little rough in the finishing, but still a quilt by any definition of the word. A border filled with flying geese surrounded four different squares. A log-cabin patch on the bottom left, a lopsided star in the upper right, the brand for the SP Coleman ranch burnt straight onto a piece of fabric, and a…

  Hope moved closer to examine the final square. Half triangles of icy blue contrasted against a buttery yellow. The occasional solid square strategically placed—it wasn’t the prettiest pattern she knew of, but she was swallowing hard as she reached to touch it.

  Single wedding ring.

  Did Matt know the symbolism of what he’d picked?

  A long piece of thin twine was tacked directly in the middle of the patch, and something shiny flashed where it was nestled against the knot. Oh my God, maybe he did know.

  There was a ring tied to the quilt and she was standing in front of a crowd of people and if what she thought was happening, Matt had just proposed to her and yet he was nowhere to be seen.

  Her cheeks flamed hotter by the second, but she managed to get the bow undone, even with shaking fingers. The shimmer of pale gold slid down the coarse twine to land in her palm.

  There were tiny diamonds on the top ridge, the gold band worn but beautiful. Behind her back, Hope heard whispers of conversation, but no one came right out and said anything. Asked anything.

  And all she seemed to be able to do was stare. He’d made a quilt and used it to propose?

  “He was supposed to be here.”

  Hope twirled to find Mrs. Coleman smiling at her. “He…I…”

  Yeah, speaking was going real fine this morning.

  “The boy’s been burning the candle at both ends trying to get this done and deal with the calves. You want me to take over for you? Man the raffle table?”

  Hope nodded, her fingers playing with the ring, clutching it like a lifeline.

  Mrs. Colman smiled. “You go on.”

  In the middle of turning away, Hope paused. She moved to the wall and removed the Coleman quilt. She couldn’t possibly let it be auctioned off. She folded it carefully, pressing it against her chest before trying to find her voice.

  “Whatever the top amount is given for the other raffled quilts, I’ll match it for this one.” She looked up at Matt’s mother. “Do you think that would be okay?”

  Marion Coleman grinned. “Nope, it won’t work, because Mike and I already said we’d double it.”

  Hope bit her lip, fought the tears. “Really?”

  “Matt talked my husband into making a quilt square. You think it’s gonna be up on anyone’s wall but family?”

  Hope gasped out a laugh. There was more to the story than she’d imagined.

  Marion waved a hand. “Now, go on. Go find Matt.”

  Quilt tucked under her arm, ring squeezed tight in her fingers, probably the goofiest grin ever on her face. She somehow made it back to the parking lot and headed toward the Colemans’, wondering where to start looking.

  Her first guess was right. She pulled in next to his truck outside his trailer and jumped down. A spring breeze floated past, songbirds escorting her on the trip to the front door and inside.

  The quiet was all the hint she needed to find him, stomach down on his bed, face turned to the side and completely relaxed as he slept like a rock.

  She didn’t wake him. Just stood there and soaked in the sight. He’d stripped down to boxers and dirty socks, his feet hanging off the bed as if attempting to keep the sheets clean.

  The muscles in his back moved as he shifted position, rolling halfway to his back. Long, delicious arms, his wide muscular thighs, six-pack on his abdomen visible even as he lay in repose.

  Waking him up seemed cruel. She’d wait until he came around on his own. It wasn’t as if she didn’t have enough to entertain herself, looking him over.

  “You going to stay way over there, or come and give me some sugar?”

  Hope threw decorum out the window and pounced, body slamming against him as she offered her lips.

  He wasn’t as asleep as she’d thought. Not from the way he took her body under his, heavy erection pressed to her thigh, tongue and teeth working her mouth, her neck.

  “I’ve missed you.” He breathed the words against her chest before going in for a second round.

  “Missed you too. I didn’t want to bother you.”

  Matt lifted off where he’d been using her as a chew toy, nibbling along her bra. “You bother me by not being here, got it?”

  Hope nodded. Then she didn’t know what to say. There was a ring in her pocket and a quilt on the side table, both things that seemed to ask a pretty big question, but she wasn’t sure how to turn the conversation that direction.

  Matt snapped upright. “Shit. What time is it?”

  She checked her watch. “Nearly noon.”

  “Fuck. I mean, what day is it? I’ve been buried up to my eyebrows in calves and—” He glanced at the bedside table and rumbled to a stop. “Oh. It’s Saturday, isn’t it?”

  Hope couldn’t stop herself. She laughed, soft at first then louder. His expression of total dismay turned the situation into something she was going to remember for a long, long time.

  Maybe even forever.

  Matt pulled the quilt over and opened it up, smoothing it over his pillows. He fingered the empty twine then looked at her expectantly.

  “Oh no, Matt Coleman. You ain’t getting out of this one.”

  He mock-pouted. “Sewed my fingers to the bone—figured my message would be clearer if I spoke your dialect.”

  She still couldn’t believe it, that he’d found the time to do up a quilt. Rough as it was. “You going to make me beg?”

  His grin flashed bright—that one that said sex and mischief and too much Coleman to argue with. “I like making you beg.”

  She sat up straighter, intending to crawl over him and make him squirm, but he beat her to the punch, pulling her hand forward as if looking for something.

  “Where is it?”

  “Where’s what?” Hope tugged her hand free. “Ah, I need to do my nails—”

  He rolled off the bed and scooted her hips forward until she perched on the edge of the mattress. “May I have it please?”

  It took a moment to dig in her pocket. She had to lie back to get at the ring.

  Matt growled in approval. “Hmm, maybe you should just stay in that position for a while.”

  A sharp nip along the inside of her thigh made her gasp. She sat, the ring trapped between thumb and forefinger. “Later. First, I think you left this lying around in public. You should take better care of special things.”

  He was up on one knee, pulling the ring from her grasp, holding her hand captive. “I intend on taking very good care of something special. If you’ll have me.”

  Hope let him slip the ring on her. “You just try to get away.”

  They grinned at each other. She opened her arms and he scooped her up, twirling her around before depositing them both bac
k on the bed, all tangled together.

  There was a whole lot of kissing and caressing going on, but Hope wanted a few answers before she gave in and enjoyed herself. “Whose ring was it?”

  Matt rolled her on top of him, his hands slowing but not stopping. “My gramma’s. My mom gave it to me a while back. Said if I wasn’t a stupid mule I might be able to figure out the perfect woman who could appreciate not only me, but being a part of the Coleman family.”

  “Your mom said that?”

  He nodded. “She likes you. They all like you. Hell, my dad even chipped in and made one of the quilt squares. Of course, he called me a few names first considering the bad timing. And the fact that Mom refused to help him, but he did good. All of them did.”

  His family, drawing her into their midst. “Who else?”

  Matt laughed. “Blake made the log cabin. He said Jaxi was twitching so hard watching him use her machine he finally gave up and hand-sewed straight seams and then cut until it looked right. Travis—that boy surprised us all and did the star. Not sure what the idea is behind it, but it’s kinda appropriate.”

  “You calling your brother shiny?”

  “No, unique.”

  She just listened, took it all in.

  “The twins did the triangles around the edges—I guess they’re called geese?”

  Hope nodded.

  “Then they dumped the lot on me and told me to put it together. So I’ve been working it in-between pulling calves. And you’d better take care of it, because it’s the last time in my life I’m ever sewing.”

  “Appropriate, because it’s the last time you’re ever proposing as well.” She couldn’t believe it. Her oversized cowboy had been juggling chores and making something that would have never been on his list if she weren’t important, real important, to him. “Matt, I love it. So much. And the ring—it’s perfect.”

  He caught her hands in his and kissed her fingers. “And me?”