Blame it on Texas

by Amie Louellen

  His baseball hat was pulled down low, the bill shadowing his eyes. “There was a time when we thought it was a good idea.”

  Memories of those times were the ones that haunted her the most. “That time is over.” Hopefully he was too far gone to hear the crack in her voice.

  Being here, being so close to him was getting to her. If she hadn’t promised Craig and Delilah that she’d make their wedding cake, she would leave right now. Throw a shirt over her nightgown and head straight for the airport and out of his life.

  Ritt braced an arm against the wall, balancing himself as he tried to pull off his boots. He wobbled, and Shelby was there in an instant, supporting him in his efforts.

  “We weren’t so bad together. Right, Shel?”

  “I don’t think now is the time to talk about that, Ritt.”

  “Can I tell you something?” He continued without waiting for her answer. “I’ve missed you.”

  Shelby swallowed back the knot of regret that formed in her throat. “I don’t think it’s the time to talk about that either.”

  He gave a jerky nod and started toward her. His feet were suddenly steady. Maybe he wasn’t as drunk as she had originally thought. By the time she realized his intent, it was too late.

  One arm snaked out, wrapping around her and pulling her to him. His lips captured hers, swift and sure. Her knees buckled with surprise and desire, but he was there to hold her up. And she was lost.

  Her fingers went to the bill of his hat, tipping it up and off his head like she had done a thousand times before.

  Memories teemed around her, fueled by the night and his lips on hers. All the days she had spent in his arms, in his bed. Regret mingled, but she pushed it away. She should do the same to him, push him away. Fight the passion rising to the surface.

  But she had been fighting her feelings for so long she didn’t have the strength anymore. Or maybe it was the desire. It took so much to protect herself. So much to pretend that this wasn’t what she wanted. That he wasn’t what she needed.

  She sighed, melting into him. And he pulled her closer still, turning and walking her toward the bedroom.

  She forced herself to pull away. “Ritt, I—”

  “We were good together, Shel.” He kept moving.

  She kept letting him. “That was a long time ago.”

  “This feels like now.”

  And now felt amazing…wonderful…right.

  He pulled his shirt over his head and her heart pounded in her throat.

  Who was to know but the two of them?

  She didn’t protest as he nudged open the door to his room and urged her inside. Didn’t protest when he stripped her T-shirt over her head and lowered her to the bed.

  A sigh escaped her lips as he moved away, trailing kisses down her neck, across her collarbone, into the hollow of her throat.

  “I’ve dreamt of this, you know. Holding you again.” One callused hand moved from her hip to the curve of her waist and higher still to palm her waiting breast.

  His touch was like coming home. Filled with warmth and comfort, all the things she had been missing in her life.

  Suddenly respectability wasn’t so important anymore. Not if she could have this, this fire blazing between them. This love burning her from the inside out.

  He had changed little in the years they had been apart. His chest was a little broader. She traced her fingers across the star-shaped scar just under his collarbone. “What happened?”

  He chuckled, low and sexy. “Fishing accident. Took a lure for the team.”

  She leaned in and kissed it.

  He stopped laughing, sucking in a sharp breath as her tongue met his bare skin.

  “Shelby,” he groaned.

  She raised her head. “What?” Her gaze met his. She wanted him to see the light in her eyes, the desire and longing she held only for him.

  “Nothing.” He dipped his head and kissed her again.

  Shelby fisted her hands in his hair, holding him to her, perhaps even trying to hold on to him forever.

  Then he pulled away. His hair slipped from between her hungry fingers, her body chilled as he moved his heat from on top of her.

  “Where are you going?” she asked, still reeling. Her head was spinning with desire, her heart full to bursting with the realization that she loved him. She had always loved him. Her Texas husband.

  “Condom,” he said, digging through the nightstand drawer. “Can’t have a repeat of last time.”

  Shelby’s heart fell into her toes. She felt as if a bucket of snow had been dumped on her desire.

  Ritt froze, realizing he’d said the wrong thing. His eyes reflected the regret that turned down the corners of his mouth.

  “Shelby.” He licked his lips as if they had suddenly gone dry. “I—”

  “Don’t.” She held up a hand as she reached for her clothes. Her insides were raw with the realization that she loved him, but he didn’t love her back. How could he, if he said things like that to her?

  Humiliation snaked through her. Degradation, remorse. She shouldn’t feel that way. She and Ritt had shared equal responsibility in making the baby that changed both of their lives. But she had been the one who wasn’t able to carry the child, nurture it and make it grow.

  She grabbed her shirt and pulled it over her head, not bothering to turn it right side out. Or around. The tag tickled under her chin as she shook her head. “Don’t, Ritt.”

  He ran his fingers though his hair, massaging away whatever demons plagued him.

  Shelby scrambled to her feet, using his moment of weakness to be strong. He opened his mouth to protest or lie to her once again, but she ducked her head and hurried from the room. Down the hall she fled, him right behind her.

  “Shel?” His vice was soft and questioning as she stepped into his parents’ room. She shut the door between them before he could follow.

  “Good night, Ritt.” She was proud of how steady her voice sounded, even though her knees trembled and her hands shook as she turned the lock.

  “Shel? Shelby!”

  She crawled back into the bed, surrounded by his scent and memories, and somehow managed to hold the tears at bay.

  Ritt stared at the old wooden door that separated him from the only woman he’d ever loved.

  “Well, you’ve really done it this time, McCoy,” he muttered to himself.

  He gave the door one last look, then turned back to the kitchen. He stopped momentarily to pick up his hat, slapping it against his thigh before settling it back on his head.

  He needed a cold shower to wash away the heat of his desire and the last vestiges of alcohol clogging up his system.

  But it was late…or early, depending on how he looked at it and he was tired.

  He made his way back into his bedroom, wondering how one man could be so stupid.

  Without bothering to change clothes, he flopped onto the bed. Pulling the pillow over his head in a poor attempt to stop the parade of memories behind his closed lids.

  He hadn’t intended his caress to be more than a simple, sweet kiss. He just wanted to touch his lips to hers and then sleep it off. But he should have known that nothing was simple where Shelby was concerned.

  In the span of one heartbeat, he’d sobered up and fallen prey to an even bigger intoxicator—his wife.

  It was a short ride to hell from there. Or was it heaven?

  He had no defenses where she was concerned, no way to block out what she did to him, his love for her. All-consuming, ever-burning, more than he could even understand.

  A wet nose nudge his hand, then Clyde whined and gave him a reassuring lick. A second later, the mattress dipped with the canine’s solid weight.

  Ritt expelled a heavy breath. He hadn’t meant to hurt her. Once the words were out, he wanted to call them back. The hurt in her eyes was like a physical blow to his heart. Any chance he had for winning her back had been blown away with that one sentence. A stupid thing to say to the one person he
loved more than the air he breathed.

  Ritt had spent more than one night half-drunk, with only the canine for company and dreaming of Shelby. Why should tonight be any different?

  He scratched the dog behind one floppy ear and drifted off, dreaming of being her one and only once again.

  Chapter Six

  Sunlight cut like a knife through hot butter, slicing into the best dream he’d had in a long time.

  Ritt flopped onto his back, flinging an arm over his eyes to block out the cruel light. He wanted to sink back into the bliss of the dream, but his head was pounding.

  And through the pain came a familiar heartache.

  He rolled over, burying his face in the pillow. He breathed in deep. Shelby.

  Last night came crashing back. He and Shelby at the diner. His parents calling. Tying one on at the Longbranch, coming home, and… Shelby.

  With a groan, Ritt wiped the last of the sleep from his eyes and rolled from the bed. He owed her an apology. An explanation. Something. She wouldn’t forgive him. And he couldn’t blame her.

  Just more bloody water under the bridge.

  He stumbled through the house, stopped in the bathroom to splash water on his face and tried to get a handle on the day.

  He made it to the kitchen. There was no note from his wife, and the coffee was cold in the pot. She must have left a long time ago. Then he remembered. It was Friday. She was baking cakes for Craig and Delilah. Tonight was the rehearsal dinner.

  Ritt poured himself a cup and stuck it in the microwave. As it nuked, he peeked outside. Both his truck and Shelby’s rental were missing from the driveway. At least he’d had enough sense to get a cab home.

  That must have cost a pretty penny. The Longbranch was halfway to Amarillo. But it was amazing where Ben Franklin could get a man when he had the notion. He’d been safe last night and that was good, but now he’d have to get a ride back to the honky tonk to reclaim his old Ford. With a shake of his head, he picked up the phone and called Craig.

  “I can’t believe you’re working today.” Ritt shot Craig a pointed look.

  “Well, not everyone can call in sick on a whim.”

  “Jealous much?”

  Craig returned his look. “No.”

  Funny thing was, Ritt knew he meant it. Craig was on top of the world. He had a thriving law practice, and he was about to marry the girl who was meant for him and take her on a honeymoon to paradise.

  The thought of his own honeymoon flitted through his mind. If one could call a weekend in San Antonio a honeymoon. Maybe if he’d taken Shelby someplace special. Like he could have afforded that back then. He’d been nineteen, dependent on his parents for damned near everything in his life. Maybe if they’d used that five thousand dollars to make Shelby stay instead of entice her mother to leave…

  He shoved the thought aside. He’d forgiven his parents a long time ago, and he truly couldn’t find fault with Stormy Patterson for taking their money to start over. None of it, not even one iota, was Shelby’s fault.

  “You okay, buddy?”

  Ritt nodded. “Right as rain.”

  Craig turned into the parking lot at the Longbranch, pulling his Mercedes alongside the beat-up Ford. “You know, people lie to me for a living.”

  “Yep,” Ritt said, his hand on the door.

  “When you want to talk about it, you know where I am.”

  Ritt opened the door, stepping out into the graveled lot.

  “Maybe if you told her the truth,” Craig said, leaning over to look at Ritt.

  “Then she’d stay for all the wrong reasons.”

  “I meant the truth about how you feel about her.”

  Ritt shook his head. “See ya tonight.” He slammed the car door and crunched his way to his truck.

  Shelby blew her hair out of her face and promised herself that she would give Kathryn a raise when she returned to LA. Making a wedding cake without her faithful assistant’s help showed Shelby how much Kat really did.

  It had taken the better part of the day, but she had completed the three triple-layer cakes and the multitude of chocolate cupcakes in lieu of the traditional groom’s cake. Tomorrow she would ice the cupcakes, add the fresh flowers and use the matching ribbon to tie the wedding cakes together. All in all, they would be beautiful in their simplicity.

  She wiped down the counters one last time, then grabbed her purse and shut the door to the fellowship hall.

  All evening long she’d heard the commotion from the rehearsal going on in the sanctuary, and she wished to be a part of it. But being in the kitchen while people that she had known since she was in high school were laughing and having a great time, just proved to her the distance between them. She didn’t belong here. She was a Cali girl now. With any luck, she’d have her signed papers by tomorrow afternoon and would be on her way back home.

  The thought should have made her happy, but a sigh escaped her as she unlocked the rental car and started back to Ritt’s house.

  He’d probably still be out with the wedding party, eating and whooping it up for the last time.

  She hadn’t talked to him all day, but that didn’t mean he hadn’t crossed her mind. Crossed was a bad term. She baked cakes for a living. She could do it in her sleep. Even with three cakes on her to-do list, memories of Ritt had sauntered in and hijacked her thoughts for the day. Not long-ago memories, but new ones. More potent than the ones from years before.

  Last night, almost making love with him. She had to keep reminding herself that he’d been drunk. But that didn’t erase the scent of him from her mind. He should have smelled like a brewery, but he hadn’t. He’d smelled like…Ritt, and that alone was enough to make her forget all the things she had promised herself.

  And then he said the worst possible thing to her and the memories came crashing back. Not the good ones, but the ones that seared her straight through.

  Ritt’s truck was in the driveway when she pulled in. She didn’t worry about parking behind him; she’d be up and out the door long before he even stirred in the morning.

  She let herself into the house, surprised to see the flicker of the television as she set her purse on the kitchen table.

  “Home already?”

  Ritt nodded. “Since it’s a day wedding, Delilah wanted everyone to get a good night’s sleep. Dark circles and pictures.” He shrugged. “You know Delilah.”

  Shelby nodded, the air suddenly thick.

  “I’m sorry about last night.” His words were soft, but carried the weight of the world.

  A small laugh escaped her. But it was sad really how much the sound resembled a sob. Shelby pressed a hand to her mouth and gathered her composure. Now was the time to start. Now was the time to harden her heart to all things Ritt. “Sorry that you kissed me or sorry that you said…” She waved a hand around, unable to repeat his words from the night before.

  “Sorry that I hurt you.”

  She wanted to scoff, tell him in a flippant tone that he didn’t hold such a power over her that mere words could wound. But they’d both know it was a lie.

  Ritt patted the couch next to him. “Quit hovering and come sit down. You look dead on your feet.”

  Shelby hesitated, unsure whether to forge a ceasefire or protect her heart. But his expression was tired, his mouth pulled down at the corners. Could it be that he truly was sorry for the hurtful words that put a stop to what could have been the second-biggest mistake of her life?

  She took a couple of hesitant steps then sank down into the armchair across from him. It was the first time she’d been off her feet since the early morning. She’d eaten lunch standing up while a cake baked. They needed constant attention since she was working with a regular oven, and she didn’t have time to make any mistakes. Her knees popped, and her stomach growled. She’d skipped dinner altogether.

  Ritt rose from the couch and made his way to the kitchen, coming back in a few minutes with a plate full of chicken and pasta and a can of Coke. “I can’t h
ave the neighbors thinking I’m starving you.”

  Shelby smiled with gratitude and accepted the plate. Mentally she pushed away the thoughts of how long this fragile truce could last between them. “Where’d you get this?”

  “Leftovers from the rehearsal dinner.”

  “Yummy.” She polished off the food in no time, sitting with Ritt and watching some late-night show on television. She had a feeling he’d turned off the game for her. But she couldn’t dwell on that. Him catering to her tastes seemed too intimate by far.

  Suddenly the room seemed smaller and warmer. She snatched up her plate and took it to the kitchen, needing space from him once again. Perhaps they couldn’t have this, a civil separation, a relationship squashed in the middle between red-hot lovers at each other’s throats.

  Needing something to do to keep her away from him, she washed the plate. And then the rest of the dishes in the sink.

  “You don’t have to do that, you know. The cleaning lady comes tomorrow.”

  Shelby jumped at the sound of his voice. She whirled around to find him right behind her. Close. Too close.

  “You have a cleaning lady?” She had to say something to break the current that sparked between them. Was she the only one who felt this pull whenever they were together? The draw of him, the urge to lean in and taste the edge of his jaw, the curve of those masculine lips. With no thought to the consequences, the pain of tomorrow, the mistakes of the past.

  He shrugged. “She comes a couple of times a week.”

  “Are you kidding me?” Her voice rose, her desire for him quickly turning to anger. “You work at the bait shop. Part-time. How can you afford a cleaning lady?”

  His eyes narrowed until she couldn’t read them. “What is it about the situation that bothers you, Shel?”

  What indeed? And then she knew. “I have worked so hard in my life to find happiness. I struggle every day. You just float along, satisfied with whatever life hands you. It’s not fair, damn it.”

  He stared at her for a full three seconds then took a half a step closer, forcing her up against the cabinet. “You think I like how my life turned out?”