Krista faced Will as soon as Brock left. “Anybody who cares doesn’t want you on the back of any horse tonight.”
“So you admit that you do care about me?”
“Of course. We’re friends.” She reached down to remove the liner from the basin, but Will wrapped his hand around her arm. “Krista, you’re big into honesty. So here it is. I haven’t faked a thing since you nearly took a tumble off the platform. I doubt I even was before then. I want whatever there is between us—and there is something—we’ve both known that for the past ten years, to get real and play itself out, whichever way it goes.”
Man, he could talk a line. “We can’t do this. You want a serious relationship and I’m not it. I’m not Claverley wife material. Not even close. We’re not built to last.”
“Whoa. I’m not proposing marriage, Krista. I’m suggesting that we no longer pretend to pretend.”
A real good line. He was so tempting. Kiss him, that stupid, wild part of her said. “I can’t believe I’m saying this but you’re not being practical. I’m no more compatible than I was when you suggested the fake relationship. In fact, our lack of suitability is what made this fakery perfect, according to you.”
Will was staring at her lips. She pulled back and he blinked. His eyes went to hers. “We need to find a quiet place and hash this out.”
“Will, this is a quiet place. I’ve given you my answer.”
“The answer you think you should give. It’s the same one I gave ten years ago, and here we are in the same place again, so how about we come up with a different solution?”
“This is the great Claverley fair deal talk in action?”
“I’ve seen you in action. You got a bit of the Claverley already in you.”
“My, aren’t we presumptuous.”
“Look, we both enjoy running a business—”
“Three months hardly counts.”
“It does to me. You like my family, and they like you.”
“You talked to your mom and Keith lately?”
“They don’t hate you, which is a start.”
“I beg to differ, but we’ll leave that for now. But remember, there’s my family, too.”
“I’d be happy to make their acquaintance.”
“Yeah, well, Jack and Bridget, they already invited you over for our Canada Day barbecue. I said it wasn’t necessary because we were just pretending. Then.”
“So if you were to invite me, it would mean we weren’t pretending?”
For better or for worse... “Yes.”
Will took her hand, glided his thumb along her knuckles. “I’ll make you a deal. How about you and I drop the fake part of our relationship for tonight. If all goes well, we’ll stay together until after the barbecue with your family. That’s what, two weeks from now? We survive that, and we’ll see if we’re good for another two weeks.”
“Our relationship is on a semi-monthly lease?”
“At first, then month to month, then...” He shrugged.
“Then I fall off a horse one too many times and you come to your senses.”
“Or you don’t and I never do.”
“Huh.” That was the best response she could manage, her heart was banging around so badly. She should run from him now before she did it later, like she’d run from jobs and guys for years.
Or she could be braver than she’d ever been before. “I’d say, Will Claverley, that if you can stick your backside to a bucking horse for ten seconds, I didn’t stand a chance.”
He grinned and kissed her cheek, by her mouth. Her lips twitched, as if he’d missed his mark. This time when his eyes went to her lips, she gave in to what they both wanted and touched her mouth to his.
“It’s been a pleasure, Krista Montgomery,” he said when their lips finally parted.
Her teenage hope had come true. Only, how long would it last in the real, grown-up world?
* * *
THE CRACKS OF thunder barely registered above the music from the band. Will would check the rain gauge outside the house before going to sleep tonight. Every quarter inch would help the hay, though it wouldn’t help the odds of the ride happening. Already rained out for this evening, it wasn’t likely to happen tomorrow, the last day of the rodeo.
Krista might get her way yet. She was tucked against his side, his arm around her waist, studying the dance moves of a white-haired couple. Will recognized them. They lived and breathed the rodeos, and probably spent the winters practicing their dance moves. Krista was shuffling through the steps. She’d disappeared after they’d kissed, then reappeared for the dance in a full rodeo getup of skirt and boots but with a flowered shirt and a fake flower in her hair. She looked half Hawaiian, half cowboy. On her, it worked.
“Do you want to dance?” He nearly yelled in her ear, the throb of the two-step rising up from the floorboards into his boots.
She shook her head, her curled hair grazing her bare shoulders. His fingers itched to tug a curl and see if it would spring back into place. “Not unless you’re in for major embarrassment. Those two should run a studio.”
He decided to grow up a bit, and dragged his attention off her hair. “They are pretty serious. They have their own YouTube channel.”
“Really? Wait. You know them?”
“Their names. And we’ve spoken. They’re rodeo regulars. You register faces first and then put names to the faces. It’s a circuit for a reason.”
Krista surveyed the room and said, her breath stroking his ear, “So, how many people do you know here?”
“I’d say a good third. Not all by name necessarily but enough to say hello to.”
“In that case,” she said directly to his face, close enough for him to read her lips, “why haven’t you done the rounds with me?”
Because he didn’t want to share Krista with anybody, not when they’d only become a couple about five hours ago. They were still in this gray zone, where to the outside world they were supposed to be pretending to be a couple but in the private world really were together. The public and private were theoretically the same, but Will still felt not quite right about it all, like a gate latch that hadn’t fully hooked into place.
Until then—he tightened his arm around Krista’s waist—he wanted to keep her to himself as much as possible. “I thought you’d prefer not to have to go through the motions with people you don’t know.”
Her lips grazed his ear this time when she spoke and he felt it right down to his boots. She could find a way to tickle his toes without touching them. “Those are exactly the kind of people I want to meet. A stranger today, a client tomorrow.”
She had a right to push her business, but there ought to be a limit. It was ten at night.
He was about to suggest she close up shop when she tilted her face up to his. He kissed her, her mouth stilling and then moving against his, moving to form words. “Will, I hadn’t—we—” she broke contact and glanced around. He didn’t care who saw but when she stiffened, he followed her gaze to Keith, watching the dancers, too. One in particular, it turned out. Dana was in the arms of a rider. Will placed him as a middle-of-the-pack entrant, there for whatever money he came into, but mostly for the good times. Keith looked ready to pile-drive him. He wondered if Keith had told Dana about Austin’s first word.
“Have you talked to Dana?” Krista asked him.
Will shook his head. “Not about Keith.” He took in Krista’s determined gleam. “I figured I’d mind my own business.”
“Keith’s not business, he’s family. You talked me into dating you. Can’t you train your powers of persuasion on that bullheaded brother of yours?”
He shouldn’t get involved, but Keith was screwing up bad. “If I talk to him, will you promise to stay out of it?”
A swift smack of a kiss was her answer. Good enough for him. He pulled her in for a
nother when up popped Alyssa with her camera phone. “Hey there. Just taking some shots to post.”
Krista posed for the shot, but it was clearly that—a pose with none of the curvy softness of moments ago. He hoped there wouldn’t be a scene. Then again, the music might drown them out, and if they had to take it outside, the weather would also drown them out.
Alyssa sidled in closer, as the music stopped and the band announced a set break. “We’ll likely have to cancel the ride.”
No surprise there. Sales would take a hit for tomorrow, but they’d run a profit. After nearly sixty years, the ranch could absorb the occasional hit.
“But I was wondering if you’d consider rescheduling.”
“Of course.” Beside him, Krista stared pointedly at his shoulder. The pain was under control thanks to a full dose of painkillers.
If Alyssa noticed, she didn’t let on. “I lined up the ride for Okotoks.”
“Okotoks? That’s good.”
“Even better than here, actually. It’s closer to Calgary so we could draw interest from there. Get a lot of sponsors and buildup before the event.”
“When is it?” Krista asked.
Alyssa’s lips tightened. He’d better find a way to end this conversation soon, while things were going smoothly. “It always happens the middle of August,” he said. “Plenty of time.”
“Yes,” Alyssa said. “Plenty of time for Krista to make sure your shoulder is in working order.”
“Perfect,” Krista said. “And plenty of time for you to make plans with Will when I’m not around.”
A not-so-subtle jab for Alyssa to move on. Alyssa delivered Krista a vicious glare, immediately masked over with a bright smile. “Just wanted to check with you to make sure that’ll work.”
The lights came on for a short break and Alyssa glided away. But Krista was no longer his happy girlfriend. Or his alone. Because now everybody was taking advantage of the break in the music to mosey over and chat. So much for keeping Krista to himself.
* * *
WILL’S TEXT TO Krista arrived at eight thirty the next morning. We’re officially rained out.
Good, she thought and snuggled deeper under her puffy covers. He could give his shoulder a day of rest. Do you want to meet up?
Maybe later. Full day wrapping up at the corrals.
So much for taking care of his shoulder. She browsed through the internet until she discovered a grisly image of torn shoulder tendons and sent it to him with Have a great day!
I’m so lucky. Now I have both a mother and a girlfriend.
His girlfriend, though she hadn’t gone on a date with him yet. Perhaps she should remind him that Dana got concert tickets and flowers for playing the part of a girlfriend. As his real one, she could negotiate her own fair deal.
Krista heard Mara in their apartment kitchen. Mara moved like a thief, slowly and quietly, afraid of making a mistake. Last month she’d broken a glass. Krista only discovered it when she’d stepped on a tiny shard in her bare feet, and Mara had confessed, deeply apologetic that she had missed it. Krista’s reassurances that it could’ve happened to anybody didn’t fly with Mara.
Did Will know about Mara’s deteriorating blindness? Krista had told Laura, so probably. But it was also probable that she had a thicker file on the Claverleys than he did on her family.
Unable to stop herself, she scrolled through her photo stream of the pics she’d taken of herself and Will at the rodeo. There weren’t many and her thumb hovered over the delete button on a couple that showed her gazing up at him as if he were the sun and the moon. She left them because, well, who knows when they might come in handy?
There were others perfect for promoting Krista’s Place. On her laptop, she created an image of Will and her with catchy text about the monies raised and posted it to Instagram. She’d been posting on Instagram for a couple of weeks now, and gotten nothing but upbeat replies, as well as hearts and thumbs-ups and shares. Life really did carry on.
She shut her laptop, took up her phone and padded barefoot into the kitchen and straight to the coffee machine. Empty.
“Make a full pot,” Mara said over the whirr of the blender. “Mom’s coming over for brunch.”
“When?”
The apartment buzzer let off its foghorn call. “Now.”
“You didn’t tell me.”
“Because I didn’t hear you come home last night. Besides, you weren’t supposed to be here this morning, and you’ve only just now made an appearance.”
“Sound logic is no excuse,” Krista said. “Did you tell Mom about the fake girlfriend thing with Will?”
“I’m not doing your dirty work,” Mara said.
“I guess I better since there’s an update.”
Mara hit the cancel button on the blender and in the silence asked, “What happened?”
There was a knock on the door. “Later,” Krista said and jumped to answer it.
She was greeted by cheesecake rimmed with fresh strawberries. Krista’s insides went as squishy as the dessert. “Are those strawberries from Aunt Penny’s garden?” The garden technically belonged to Jack and Bridget now, since they owned Aunt Penny’s house, but to everyone it was still Aunt Penny’s even though she’d passed away eight months before.
“Yes, they are,” their mother said, sliding the dessert onto the counter. She enveloped Mara and then Krista in a hug of Bali cotton and incense. “Now tell me quick what you’ve been up to, so we can have a slice.”
Krista balked. How to confess to her family that she was about to launch into a hopeless relationship? “Mostly busy with work.”
“At some convention promoting your spa?”
Mara raised her eyebrow.
“Did I say convention?”
Their mother opened her phone and read, “‘Hey, Mom. Sorry I can’t call. Busy working a convention. Will talk Sunday.’ And here it is. Sunday. What gives?”
“The quiche is ready to take out of the oven,” Mara said. “And I’ve made the salad dressing. How about we wait until we’re seated before we hear her news. Meanwhile, Krista?” Mara pointed to the still-empty coffee maker.
“Right.” Krista hopped to it.
“I’m afraid you inherited the absentminded gene from your maternal side,” her mother said. “Your father eventually shooed me out of the kitchen. This is about the third cheesecake I’ve made in my life that wasn’t burnt or a soup.”
“Oh, I don’t know. I expect to make a profit this month at the shop.”
Their mother’s eyes crinkled with pride. “Good for you, which proves that you’ve inherited another gene from me. The FIUYMI gene which is—”
“Fake it until you make it,” the sisters sang together.
“Now, then, Krista,” Mara said once they were seated, “perhaps you could explain to us how the fake-it gene is expressing itself in your life.”
Krista explained to her mom how in pursuit of obtaining new clients, she had happened upon a gig as a fake girlfriend with Will Claverley.
Krista’s mom emitted a chirp of surprise. “Janet Claverley’s son?”
“Yes. You know his mom?”
“Of course I knew whose house you spent your teenage years at. We went to high school together. She always acted as if she were better than anyone else. And yes, her daughter is more like her father. That’s why I didn’t mind you hanging out with Laura.”
Krista recalled the live pain on Janet’s face as she’d recalled watching Will get hurt in the arena. “I admit she still has an edge to her, but she does care about her family.”
“She does. Whatever belongs to her is the best. Everyone thought it odd when she took up with Dave Claverley, rodeo bad boy.”
“Dave Claverley? Bad boy?” Not the man with the gentle voice who’d broken from the wedding guests to help with Silver. “He
made Will come to me at the spa and buy Janet a gift certificate. Doesn’t seem bad to me.”
“We’ve all mellowed, and full credit to them for making a life together when we were all betting it would be over in a matter of months.”
“That’s what happened to her other son,” Krista admitted, and the three of them cleaned off the quiche as they discussed Keith’s lousy love life and his stupidity with Dana.
“Anyway, Will said he’d talk to him,” Krista said. She wondered if she’d broken some code of confidentiality between Will and her by discussing Keith’s affairs. Then again, she couldn’t imagine muzzling herself around her family.
“Ah, onto the firstborn goes the burden of keeping siblings in line,” their mother said, crunching on lettuce. “Mara, this dressing is amazing. I need the recipe. No, forget it, I’ll never make it. So, how was it, Krista? Pretending to be in love with a Claverley?”
Krista eyed the cheesecake.
“Don’t even think about it,” Mara said from across the table.
“It went pretty well. We mostly hung out, let people take pictures of us, danced, which was pretty much him walking me randomly across the floor.”
“Was his family in on what you two were up to?”
“Oh yeah.” Krista could almost taste the sweet crush of strawberries on her molars. “Though I’m not sure Will has filled them in on what happened yesterday.”
She paused and her mother rolled her wrist in the universal “go on” gesture.
Krista let it fly. “We’ve agreed to date. For real. For two weeks.”
Mara and her mother exchanged glances; Krista made a lunge for the cake. It was Mara—slow, methodical Mara—who slapped her hand away. “Not nearly enough detail.”
“What do you want to hear? We like each other, but I warned him it wouldn’t last because we are so different. We agreed to try each other out until after the Canada Day barbecue and then take it from there.”
“How very...” Their mom trailed off.
“Boring,” Mara finished.
“It’s not boring,” Krista said. “It’s being honest about our chances. And Will agrees. Now can I have my cake?”
Harlequin Heartwarming June 2021 Box Set Page 84
