by Caro Carson
He could’ve dropped to his knees on the sidewalk. She was so Kristen, so boldly herself. He wanted her.
Hell, he had her. She wasn’t playing coy or shy or mysterious. She was thrilled to see him, as eager to pick up where they’d left off as he was.
But the hell of it was, he couldn’t keep her. He wasn’t the man she thought he was.
Rip off the bandage.
Not here. Not on a sidewalk in the center of town.
He tried to use humor to ease the sexual tension she’d just ratcheted into high gear. “There’s a traditional order to these things. I think you’re supposed to buy me a drink first. I passed a bakery not too far back. Maybe they sell coffee.”
Her smile only deepened. “They do, but if you’re daring enough to cut through the alley with me, there’s a diner that serves amazing pie one street over. You’d be indoors with me for the first time, but I think you’ll be safe if I have a nice slice of homemade pie competing for my attention.”
She led the way through the alley. From behind, she made a colorful picture. Her caramel-colored hair was mostly twisted up. The hem of her red coat cut precisely across her jean-clad rear, and one end of her polka-dotted scarf fluttered among the loose tendrils of escaped hair as she took quick, decisive steps.
Another version of Woman Walking Away.
This was what he would see after he told her the truth, then.
He couldn’t do it. He couldn’t say the words that would shatter her feelings for him all at once. Those feelings were pure and sincere—yes, they were naive, but they were real, and their destruction could leave a permanent scar. For her own sake, he couldn’t sit her down in front of a piece of pie and tell her everything she’d loved about him was a lie. It would break her heart.
It would shatter his.
They emerged from the alley onto a street nearly identical to Main, and then into a mom-and-pop restaurant that smelled of wholesome holiday baking. While gingerbread and pumpkin pie were topped with whipped cream for them, Ryan rapidly formed a new plan.
He didn’t want to rip off any damned bandage, so he wouldn’t. What if he could reveal pieces of the truth bit by bit, and slowly replace the image of Ryan Michaels with the reality of Ryan Roarke? He’d already told her he worked in California when she’d assumed Montana or Wyoming, and she’d accepted that piece of the truth easily enough. What if he could continue to do that this week? If she loved Ryan Michaels this Sunday, might she love Ryan Roarke by next Sunday?
Could she love him so strongly that she’d still want to be part of his life, even if that life had nothing to do with Montana and her cowgirl dreams?
He had one week to find out.
Chapter Eight
The last thing Kristen needed was more sugar. She was already bouncing off the diner’s walls with excitement, because Ryan was here.
He’s really here.
Just when she’d given up hope, he’d arrived, and gosh, what a reunion. He’d said everything she could have wanted to hear. He’d missed her. He’d come specifically to see her.
Then there was that kiss on the sidewalk. The memory of kissing Ryan and the reality of kissing Ryan were two entirely different things. Every second had been worth a month of missing him. Everything was okay now. Absolutely everything.
She took her gaze off Ryan just long enough to scoop the whipped cream off the top of her pie and eat it all in one bite, sugar be damned, and then she went back to devouring Ryan with her eyes.
Dear God, he looked good. He was dark-haired and dark-eyed, just like she remembered, and his tan hadn’t faded despite the November weather. He still had that air about him that set him apart from the other cowboys in town. Something more sophisticated, maybe. A great haircut, a killer overcoat that even looked good hanging on the wall hook next to hers. The sweater he wore with his jeans almost looked like cashmere. If they ever put a rodeo man on the cover of GQ, her Ryan would be the perfect model. He had the strong jaw and an expression that didn’t look like he laughed easily—but, oh, when he did, the camera must love him.
A camera. She jumped up to retrieve her phone from her coat’s pocket and plopped back into the booth across from Ryan.
“I’m not making the same mistakes this time. Say cheese.”
He didn’t. Or rather, she didn’t give him a chance to say cheese, but she got a wonderful shot of that one raised eyebrow and the quirk of his lips when he was going to smile, but hadn’t started actually smiling yet.
She hit the symbols on her phone to make Ryan’s image her wallpaper, setting it as her lock screen and home screen, both. “Much better. Sometimes, I was afraid I’d imagined you. Fortunately, the whole town seemed to have seen us sitting on that stage, eating barbecue, so I knew I wasn’t crazy.” Laughing, she looked up to find him watching her with a too-serious expression.
He laid his hand on the table, palm up, and she gave him her phone. He dialed a number, and within seconds, she heard a traditional, classic ring coming from the coat rack across the room. He disconnected the call and set her phone on the table. She felt relieved, knowing they had each other’s numbers now.
“Much better,” he said, gently echoing her words. “There was no one around me who knew you existed. I think it did make me a little crazy.”
She put her hand in his and squeezed hard.
“I should have come sooner.” The regret in his voice was painful to hear.
“You were working.” She racked her brain for the California rodeos, information she hadn’t thought of since freshman year of high school. “Where were you? Redding? Sacramento?”
“Not Northern California. I’m living in Southern California, believe it or not.”
She’d been imagining that he was much closer all this time. It made it all the more understandable that he hadn’t been able to steal away for a few days.
Southern California had major rodeos, but as a kid she’d known that she’d never be able to travel that far to see one. Kristen hadn’t committed that information to memory, not like the events in Montana and Wyoming. Still, there was something about the serious tone the conversation was taking that made her uneasy. She wanted to keep riding the high of simply being in his presence again.
“Of course I believe you.” This time, she winked at him. “It explains the tan.”
That seemed to be the right thing to say. He relaxed against the back of his seat. She felt so happy she couldn’t stay in hers. She got up and scooted into his side of the booth. His arm came around her immediately, and she snuggled against him like they were teenagers.
She couldn’t see every nuance of his facial expressions now, but the trade-off was that her hand could rest on his thigh and her head on his shoulder. He was definitely not a teenager, but a man built for work. Thigh and shoulder, both, were hard-muscled. She was going to want to make love with the lights on.
He tapped her nose with one finger. “Is it the gingerbread or the pumpkin pie that’s making you blush?” His voice was low, an intimate rumble for her ears only.
“It’s you.” She hated the blush, but she couldn’t stop the direction her thoughts were going. “I should have guessed you were from Southern California. You don’t have a farmer’s tan like most of the guys around here.”
He was silent for a long moment. “Exactly how do you know that?”
“Let’s just say I had an opportunity on the Fourth of July to make use of a certain vantage point.”
“Damn. I didn’t look down your shirt.”
“You’re a gentleman. I’m not.” She ran one finger down the soft sweater that covered his hard chest. “You’re a gentleman who is tan all over. I don’t suppose you Southern California cowboys go surfing after the chores are done?”
He shifted slightly. “I do surf, actually.”
“You do?” The idea of a surfing cowboy was funny. “Do you wear a cowboy hat out on the waves?”
“Never, and that is the truth.” With one finger under her chin, he lifted her face for a sweet kiss.
The diner made a good chaperone. The kiss stayed sweet.
It didn’t have to stay sweet, not like the last time Ryan had been in town. She had her own place now. She’d never had a one-night stand. She’d never slept with a man on the first date. But last Fourth of July, she would have made an exception. She might even have blamed it on the punch, thanks to all the buzz in town about its having had a chemical effect in some way, but there was no punch in the picture now, and she wanted Ryan in a fiercely physical way.
Sitting beside him in public and eating a slice of pie set her senses on fire. She’d meant what she’d said on the sidewalk. If she got him alone, she’d seduce him.
He was hers. He’d come back to see her, and he’d come a very long way, too. She wasn’t going to make the same mistake twice. If he had to leave the next day, she knew for certain she’d miss him whether they slept together or not, so they might as well—
Leave the next day. Those were chilling words.
“You don’t have to fly out in the morning again, do you?”
He brushed her hair out of the way. “I arranged a week off work.”
“A whole week. That sounds wonderful.” It stretched before her like a huge chunk of time. Seven days. Seven nights.
The nights were on her mind. “Where are you staying while you’re here?”
“Maverick Manor.”
The name of the place triggered her family pride. “My brother designed that place. Jonah. He’s an architect.”
“It’s one of the most striking hotels I’ve stayed in.”
“Isn’t it? It was a private house before he worked on it. I’ve started working for Jonah myself.”
She paused, unsure how to proceed. She had no doubt that she’d know exactly what to do with Ryan if she had him alone in her new bedroom. She’d fantasized about the possibilities in detail, but she’d never considered the first step. How did one let a man know he should take her to her home, come inside and stay the night? She’d always had her parents and brothers under her roof before, so this was a new experience.
“You’re working for an architect? That’s got to be a huge change. I always imagine you working on your family’s ranch.”
“I still work there, too, four days a week. I couldn’t leave my parents shorthanded.” She tapped the edge of her pie plate with her fork. “It also gives me a chance to raid the kitchen and eat some of my mother’s home cooking after I’m done in the stables.”
“Do you mean you moved off your ranch?” He sounded absolutely stunned.
“I’m living in town. Jonah is renovating a block of gorgeous old Victorian houses. I’m living in one of them and working at the same time, a sort of sweat equity. Instead of paying my rent in cash, I’m paying it by doing some of the renovations. Are you going to eat your whipped cream?”
When he slid his plate toward her, she helped herself.
“To be honest, ‘renovating’ means I varnish stuff. There’s lots and lots of varnishing to be done in a vintage Victorian. Lotsa wood in those babies, and Jonah is crazy about keeping every last piece of original trim. It’s all curlicue gingerbread and a real pain in the neck. Pretty to look at, but trust me, you don’t want to maintain it.”
Ryan was listening to every word she said, and judging by that almost-curve of his mouth and the way his eyes were crinkling a bit at the corners, he liked listening to her. Kristen found that to be a total turn-on that had nothing to do with tanned chests and washboard abs.
“Do you miss living on the ranch?”
“I probably would if I wasn’t still showing up for breakfast four days a week. That’s just enough to keep me from being so homesick that I want to move back in. I do miss Kayla, but it’s fun to have her popping in for some sister time.”
“Congratulations, then, on your first home.”
Kristen sat sideways in the booth, tucking one leg under her so she could face him more squarely. “Thank you. Not just for saying that, but for being a big part of the reason I made a lot of changes this fall. Do you remember when we talked about the pursuit of happiness? You said you could be happier, that your work wasn’t as rewarding as it had been, and I was so impressed that you were taking action to change things that weren’t making you happy.”
She hesitated at his slight frown. It probably wasn’t realistic to expect him to remember every word they’d said, or even every topic they’d covered throughout the course of that day. She knew every word by heart, but that probably made her look like a lovesick little cowgirl. She wanted him to think of her as so much more.
Still frowning, he reached for one of her wayward curls and wrapped it around his finger. “I remember. Go ahead.”
“You inspired me. I realized I was drifting along in a safe routine, but I hadn’t stopped to examine what I really wanted. I don’t know if you remember that I’d interviewed with the principal—”
“Every word, Kristen. I remember.”
Her heart thudded hard, one solid thud, and she knew it was the sound of a heart falling harder in love. “I decided that just because he’d said no, that didn’t mean I had to wait on the ranch for an opportunity to open up. Now I’ve got my own house, and that was just the beginning.”
“That’s huge. There’s more?”
There was the play, of course. He’d be so proud to know she was using her theater degree. But he was going to be here a full week, and that meant he’d be here on opening night. She was dying to brag about her return to the theater, but this could be a chance to really surprise him on Friday. If she could get him in the audience and then surprise him by appearing on stage, it would be dramatic.
She drew her knee up and hugged it with one arm, still facing him on the bench of the booth. “There might be one or two more things, but you can’t expect a woman to divulge every secret at once. I might need to keep a little air of mystery about me.”
He raised one eyebrow. “Considering I failed to tell you where I lived, I’m in no position to demand to know all your secrets.”
“Here’s the important part.” She took a deep breath, focused and prepared to deliver her most important line. “You don’t need to stay at Maverick Manor this week. I’d like to extend a formal invitation. Mr. Ryan Michaels, would you like to be my first guest in my first home?”
Of all the reactions she might have expected, the way he closed his eyes and turned his face away was not one. Her heart thudded into the silence.
“What’s wrong?” she whispered.
The hand he’d rested on the table clenched into a fist. “For one thing, Ryan Michaels is not my name.”
* * *
“More coffee, you two?”
The owner of the diner had apparently run out of things to do and had come over to chat, interrupting at the worst moment. Ryan needed to explain his name to Kristen. He couldn’t sleep with a woman who didn’t know his last name, no matter how important she was to him, and he couldn’t explain the name confusion if this shop owner didn’t leave them alone.
The woman gestured to the phone on the table. “Do you want me to take a picture?” She wiped her free hand on her apron in preparation.
“No, thank you.” His curt tone made it clear that she should leave. It would have worked on any server in any city from Los Angeles to London.
Not this woman. She studied him more closely, looking him over. “I haven’t seen you in here before. Did you come from the airport? Got a layover tonight?”
This was completely, utterly, not her concern. He glared at her, unwilling to give her a single syllable of no, but Kristen let go of the knee she’d bee
n hugging and turned to face her. “He’s an old friend of mine, Matilda. We were just catching up. Could you give us just a minute? The pumpkin pie was delicious, by the way.”
Matilda kept her eye on Ryan, but she picked up the empty pie plate, took her coffeepot and left. For now.
Ryan had no problem dismissing unnecessary persons, but Kristen accomplished the same thing with a smile. His big-city impatience clashed with her small-town friendliness. He felt like a foreigner once more.
She turned all that sweetness on him. “Was she standing behind me for long? Did she hear what I said to you? My face is turning ten shades of red now, I can feel it.”
“She didn’t hear anything.”
Kristen had just asked him to spend a week in her home and in her bed. He’d told her she didn’t even know his real name, yet she didn’t seem hurt or suspicious. He didn’t deserve her smile.
“Matilda brought up a good point, though. Did you just fly in today?”
“I landed last night.” He hoped his expression was as neutral as he kept it during a trial. He was going to be forced to admit this meeting was a complete accident.
“And you came to Kalispell to find me today, which is...well, not so odd, I guess. Did you stop by the ranch? Maybe Kayla told you I’d be here today.”
“No. I just came here because...” There was no hiding the truth in this case. “I had no idea what to say to you when I found you. I came here to walk, basically, and think. Then I planned to head to Rust Creek Falls to find you.”
“So it was a total coincidence that you were on the same sidewalk at the same time?”
“It didn’t seem so coincidental. I flew in to see you and I was thinking about you when I saw you, but it—”
“—is totally romantic, like you had a sixth sense where I’d be. I’ve got goose bumps.”
Ryan couldn’t help it; he had to grin at her relentless optimism. “I was going to say it was totally random.”
