Gracie slammed the door.
He cringed.
“Your vehicle’s running fine, cowboy. Now if you’ll excuse me, your mom and I have a date to get ready for.”
“A date? Why the hell are you going on a date?” Trent’s roar upset a flock of birds sitting in a tree nearby. They screeched indignantly and flew into the air, a ripple of black feathers against the blue sky. He tried to take a deep breath to calm himself down, but that only gave his brain time to catch up with his mouth.
“You’ve only been gone from the ranch for six days and you’re going on a date? Who is he? Not that Richard guy I hope?” Gracie planted her hands on her hips, glaring a bit more at him. At this rate she’d be lining up for Botox by the time she turned forty.
“And what’s wrong with me going on a date? I’m an almost single, no strings attached woman. I can do whatever I like.”
His body felt like exploding. “No strings? What am I? A pasta noodle?”
Gracie gave him a sugar sweet smile that hid a heart of stone. “If only life were that simple. Goodbye.”
Storming around to the driver’s door, she revved the engine and nearly reversed over his foot. Damn fool woman would get one of them killed at the rate she was going.
He couldn’t do anything else but follow her back to his mom’s. Saving every other driver from his whacky wife was the noble thing to do.
Noble his ass. He wanted to know more about the date she’d planned.
He pulled out of the parking lot, keeping a watchful eye on the truck speeding down the road. Hell, who was he trying to fool? He’d already stuffed up what could have been a romantic reunion with his wife. Gracie didn’t have a romantic bone in her body toward him. He’d be lucky if she ever spoke to him again.
Gracie watched the midnight blue truck pass every vehicle behind her, then sit right on her tail. Trent had another thing coming if he thought he could boss her around after she’d walked out on him. She slowed down as she rounded the corner into Walnut Drive, indicating to turn into Karen’s drive. Part of her hoped he’d followed her just to make sure she got here in one piece. The other part…well, she wasn’t even going to consider what the other part wanted. Gazing in her rear vision mirror, she watched as he parked his truck on the curb.
Karen was on her hands and knees, weeding the front garden when Gracie got out of the Nissan. One look at Gracie’s face must have been enough to warn her of the storm that’d been brewing over Bozeman Elementary School fifteen minutes earlier.
Looking past Gracie, Karen frowned at her son. “Trent? What are you doing here?”
“What is it with you two? Can’t a man visit his mom without feeling like he needs to make an appointment?”
Gracie huffed, moving toward the front door. “I’m going inside to get ready for the exhibition. I’ll be ready in about thirty minutes.” She looked over her shoulder. Surely Trent would get the message and be gone before she’d finished?
“Just yell if you want me to scrub your back, honey.”
Gracie shot him a dirty look. Muttering unladylike things under her breath, she stomped into the house. She didn’t know what she’d ever seen in the man. How could a girl fall in love with such an egg-head? Gracie’s vision blurred as she pulled the most insanely sexy dress she’d ever bought out of her closet. If ever a woman needed an outfit to bolster a flagging spirit, then this was it. And if Trent McKenzie happened to be around the house in thirty minutes, he’d better be prepared for life as he knew it to never be the same again.
Gracie ran her hands down the front of her dress, staring at the wanton hussy in her bedroom mirror. The strapless red gown pushed her not inconsiderable assets up and beyond the limits of her double-D bra. A healthy expanse of creamy skin sat provocatively above the tight bodice, casting a flirty shadow between her breasts. The floor length dress hugged her hips, cocooning her legs in a tight silk wrap. The skirt looked positively demure in comparison to the knock-out bodice. Until she moved, that is.
Gracie slipped on a pair of fire-engine red, five-inch heels made for seduction rather than comfort. When she took a step forward the concealed split on the right side of the gown opened to reveal a shameless expanse of leg. From the top of her thigh, to the tip of her red painted toenails, Gracie was all woman.
Taking another look in the mirror, she smiled at her reflection. If she didn’t know her exact height down to the last eighth of an inch she’d have sworn she looked six feet tall.
Gracie peeked out the curtains to see if Trent’s vehicle was still parked against the curb. Yep. One mud splattered truck sat on the street. Squaring her shoulders, she re-touched her lipstick, fluffed her hair and left the room. Gracie was ready to dice with the devil and the devil would lose.
Trent dug another hole in the ground. You wouldn’t think he’d just come from digging God knew how many post holes at the ranch the way his shovel plowed through the soil. He leaned back on the handle as his mom positioned a plant in the soft dirt.
Gracie had been taking a damned long time getting herself all prettied up for her date. And what was with his mom going along to? Did she need a chaperone that badly?
After a bit of encouragement, his mom had mentioned that they’d made reservations for an early dinner. Then they were going to the grand opening of a new art exhibition. That didn’t sound too wild. Gracie wouldn’t be able to get up to much mischief in a room full of arty types. He reckoned a couple of hours of intellectual conversation and creative chit-chat should bring her home to bed at a reasonable time. If he had to camp out on his mom’s couch to make sure Richard the Lionheart didn’t take too long saying goodnight, then by God he’d do it.
Trent turned at the sound of the screen door banging against its frame.
“Shit.” The shovel dropped to the ground and collided with his foot.
His mom looked up from positioning the shrub in the hole. “Trent McKenzie, watch your language.”
He didn’t hear much else of what his mom said. The pain in his foot receded to a dull throb. He could have sworn he felt dribble skimming down his chin.
Gracie leaned against the doorframe, all five-foot-one in flaming red silk, sending a blaze of heat roaring through his sleep-deprived body. His breathing screamed to a shuddering halt and his blood surged as Gracie’s eyebrow arched at his crude choice of words. Her eyes briefly darted toward his mom.
“The shower’s all yours, Karen. I’ll wait for you inside.”
His mom stood up and dusted dirt off the knees of her jeans, trying to hold back a grin. “Thanks, Gracie. I’ll be ready soon.” She turned and looked at Trent. “Play nice or you’ll have me to answer to.”
He doubted she had anything to worry about on Gracie’s behalf. He couldn’t think past the curve of Gracie’s breasts pushed up against the top of her dress. His mom should be more concerned about her son if the gleam in Gracie’s eyes had been anything to go by.
“Do you want a drink?” Gracie stood in the living room doorway with a bottle of juice in her hand.
Trent’s body told him he needed something a little stronger than vitamin c, but his brain told him he’d better stick to something non-alcoholic. He’d need all his wits about him with Gracie standing like a pint-sized Venus on his mom’s wooden floors.
“Juice would be fine, thanks.” He sat down on the sofa, bouncing to his feet when she walked back into the living room. His jaw went slack as his eyes zeroed in on the naked thigh sauntering toward him. Holy cow. No wonder Gracie needed a chaperone. That dress would pull in any single male within a hundred yards.
She needed more than his mom as chaperone tonight. She needed him. And he would be coming whether she liked it or not. Looking down at his jeans and black shirt he decided they’d spruce up pretty fine after a quick dab with a wet cloth. “What time does the art show start?”
Gracie gave him a suspicious stare. “About seven. Why?”
“I thought I might come along with you and mom.”
“You can’t come. I’ve only got two tickets.”
Their fingertips touched as Gracie passed him the glass of juice, sending a spark of heat shooting through his body.
God in heaven, he must be getting desperate.
Rubbing her hand on the side of her dress, Gracie scooted back across the room.
“What about that Richard guy?” Trent asked. “Did he have his own ticket?”
“What are you talking about? I’ve got no idea whether he’s got a ticket or not.”
Trent glared at the split in the side of her dress. At least he could cross one male off his watch list. “It doesn’t matter how many tickets you’ve got. Who’s the artist?”
Gracie folded her arms under her ample cleavage, sending ripples of flesh toward the edge of her bodice.
Taking a long drink of his juice, he yanked his gaze up to her furious face. She wasn’t getting out of his mom’s place without him glued to her side. A thick sweater zipped up to her chin wouldn’t be a bad idea either.
“Luallen Dempsey.”
“Ha?”
“The artist, Trent. Luallen Dempsey is the artist exhibiting tonight.”
Clearing his throat, he headed across the room and picked up the phone. “There’s one good thing about small town life. I know just about everyone here.”
“It won’t do you any good. The tickets sold out last week.”
“I’m sure Luallen will be able to find another ticket for an old classmate.” He laughed at the evil glare Gracie speared him with. “Tough, honey.”
Gracie flounced toward the sofa. She sat down, crossing her legs. His tongue fell out of his mouth. A knowing grin slipped across her full lips and galvanized his brain into action. Either he got an extra ticket for tonight or she wasn’t moving from her seat.
Gracie sat perfectly still in the front seat of Trent’s truck as they drove home from the exhibition. She’d just been on the receiving end of one of the slickest manipulations she’d ever seen.
“That was nice of Diana to invite mom out for a coffee.”
Gracie tapped her foot on the floor. “If you believe for one moment Karen couldn’t have caught up her friend another time then you’re dreaming.”
“She must have been thinking about your beauty sleep. I’m a sucker for a good night’s sleep as well.”
Heat scorched along Gracie’s skin as she thought of the other things Trent liked doing in bed. Sleeping didn’t even make the top five.
She kept her gaze focused on the road ahead. Her almost ex-husband had stayed squished to her side all night. You couldn’t have passed a feather between their bodies as he introduced her to the crowd of people that had come to Luallen’s exhibition. The way he’d been acting, a woman could think he’d forgotten they weren’t going to be married for much longer.
“Did I tell you how good you look?”
Gracie held back a groan. “More than once.” Halfway through the night, she’d begun to regret her choice of dress. It was easy being brave in front of a mirror. But she hadn’t felt quite so confident with a six-foot human hunk machine plastered against her body. The dress was supposed to have been thirty minutes of payback time, not an evening of self-inflicted torture.
The front porch light of Karen’s house loomed up ahead.
Trent parked on the curb. Gracie threw open the truck door. She wasn’t going to be left alone with this cowboy for one minute longer than she needed to be.
She grabbed a handful of skirt, pulling it above her knees so that she could make a quick escape. “Thanks for the ride, bye.” Her feet hit the grass at a run and her five-inch heels sunk into the soft soil, tilting her body like the Leaning Tower of Pisa.
Trent laughed.
“It’s not funny.” Gracie yanked her leg out of the ground and wobbled as the other heel disappeared. Pulling her feet out of the offending shoes, she glared at Trent. So much for her quick getaway. He stood beside his truck, arms crossed, with a smile on his face that left her breathless. Trouble wasn’t far away.
Bunching the hem of her dress in one hand and her shoes in the other, she headed toward the front door. She focused every last scrap of intelligence on getting the key in the lock and the door closed in Trent’s face. Mr. McKenzie and his wandering hands could stay outside in the crisp evening air.
Gracie didn’t hear him come up behind her, didn’t feel his body against her skin until he hooked her under his arm, lifting her through the door like a football. “Trent McKenzie, you put me down right this instant before I sock you with my heels.”
He grinned at the wiggling bundle in his arms. “You’ve got a lot to learn about this cowboy.” He flipped her against his chest, making sure her feet weren’t touching the ground.
Just as she started to let rip on another round of demands, his mouth covered hers in a hot and hungry kiss.
She didn’t mean to kiss him back. She really didn’t. Her body decided it wasn’t listening to her anymore. Her mouth opened, starting its own greedy inspection of his soft lips and demanding tongue. Her legs wound around his waist, pushing against parts of his anatomy that showed her what he had on his mind.
Trent held her bottom, lifting her against his body, groaning as she made full use of the extra leverage.
Gracie let her hands wander. She needed to feel his hot skin beneath her palms, tease and taunt all the places that turned his body into liquid fire. As her mouth devoured his, her fingers undid the buttons of his shirt. Slipping her hands beneath the cotton, she sighed at the feel of his muscles bunching under her soft caress. Gracie rubbed the tips of her fingers across his chest and Trent moaned. He staggered backward, dropping her to the ground.
“Ow.” Bending forward, he rubbed the back of his head.
Gracie tried to work out what had happened. She shook her head and blinked a few times. “Saved by the coat-stand,” she whispered, trying to figure out how she’d ended up attached to Trent’s body.
He gave his head another rub. “You don’t have to be, honey. It could be a temporary glitch.” His voice washed across the room in a husky whisper.
Goose-bumps broke out all over her body. Trent’s eyes were almost pitch black, his breathing as shallow as hers. Gracie took a step backward. “I can’t do this. I won’t get back together with you just because you want to add another branch to your family tree. This…thing that happens between us has to stop.”
Trent’s eyebrows rose. His mouth snapped into a grim line. “This thing has nothing to do with having kids. Since when has sex ever needed to be anything more than sex?”
“Since you tricked me into marrying you in Vegas so you could keep Jordan’s hands off the ranch, that’s when. You can forget about getting me all hot and steamy. Ripping up our divorce papers isn’t going to happen.” She stared at the nincompoop in front of her. “And talking about divorce papers, where are they?”
“I don’t know. And why would I want to rip them up?” His voice matched her low roar. “A man would have to be half-dead to want to tie himself to a tease for the rest of his life.”
Gracie’s temper sizzled. “Tease? Who are you calling a tease, Trent McKenzie? You didn’t seem worried a minute ago when your tongue was dancing inside my mouth. Maybe you should go home and think about your definition of the word tease.” Gracie threw the front door open. “On second thoughts, thinking’s not what you do best. So why don’t you just go home.”
Trent’s eyes were as cold as an arctic wind. He took one last look at her before he headed toward his truck. Without a backward glance he started the engine and drove away.
Gracie stood in the open doorway, leaning against the wooden frame. She stared down the street long after he’d gone. Long after the last of her tears had dried on her face. With a sinking feeling she knew she wouldn’t be seeing Trent McKenzie anytime soon.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Gracie’s head bounced off the headrest as Jordan drove like a maniac over a mountain trail behind the Triple L. “Are
you sure this surprise doesn’t involve Trent?”
“Don’t look so suspicious. In all the time you’ve known me have I ever lied to you?”
Gracie grabbed hold of the edge of the seat, bracing herself for another bone jarring jolt. “No,” she muttered. “But I wouldn’t put it past you to stretch the truth like a rubber band.”
“I’m wounded.”
“Yeah, right,” Gracie snorted. “Not as wounded as my body’s going to be from this track we’ve been driving over.”
“Hold on tight, Gracie girl. We’ve just about reached the end of this dip and then it’s straight up.”
Her body lurched to the left, straining against the seatbelt. “Tell me again why I’m here and not enjoying the waffles your mom said she’d cook for me?”
“She offered to make both of us waffles. Just goes to show how much I enjoy your company when I’d give up mom’s breakfast specialty.”
“Or how much you’re not telling me.”
“That too.” He grinned. “We’ll be there soon.”
Gracie glanced across the cab, trying to figure out why it had been so important for Jordan to drag her out of bed at the crack of dawn. For her last Saturday in Bozeman she’d planned a quiet day of retail therapy, revisiting all her favorite stores.
Lumbering up the side of a mountain, even if it was an impressive mountain, wasn’t part of her de-stress plan. In fact her stress levels had rocketed out of control when she realized where Jordan was heading. From the moment they’d crossed into Triple L territory she’d felt like a fugitive, returning to the scene of her crime. All week she’d kept herself busy, ducking for cover whenever anyone mentioned Trent’s name. Now here she was, sitting beside his brother and driving over his land as if nothing had happened.
Jordan hadn’t been kidding when he’d said they’d be going straight up. Her body pressed into the seat as the truck lurched forward, taking them higher than she’d ever been. She peered over Jordan’s shoulder and closed her eyes real fast. She couldn’t see the edge of the trail. Fluffy white clouds wouldn’t cushion their fall if he drove them off the side of the mountain. And she didn’t like the grin stretched across his face either.
Forever Dreams (Montana Brides) Page 24
