“Tucker, I’m so pleased. A date? Someone special I hope?”
“Someone he’s known for an hour.”
Kate shook her head. “That’s our Tucker.” She pulled her husband away from the table. “Let’s watch from afar.”
“Before my wife banishes me from your table, may I bring you a bottle of wine?”
“The Marqués de Murrita Rioja.”
“Outstanding. In honor of your recent trip, or is its spiciness in honor of the lady you’re out with tonight?”
“The lady, of course.”
Tucker saw Blythe walking toward the table as Chris went off to fetch the wine.
“Pleasant conversation?” he asked.
“It was a text,” she smiled. “I warmed myself by the fire for a few minutes.”
He wrapped his arm around her shoulder and put his lips below her ear. “I will give you all the warmth you need Blythe. Remember that.”
“So…tell me about…Jace.”
Oh, he liked this girl, very much. This was going to be fun.
“Now why would I spend the precious time I have with you talking about my brother?”
“Because I asked you about him. And I’m interested in him.”
“Interested in him, yet you’re here with me.”
“What went on between Jace and Renie?”
Tucker didn’t want to talk about Jace, for obvious reasons. But more, he didn’t want to talk about Jace and Irene. That wasn’t his story to tell.
“I have a better idea. Why don’t you tell me what went on between you and…Renie. Is that what you call her?”
“What makes you think anything went on between us?”
He liked the way her cheeks turned pink when he brought it up. She was uncomfortable, not as confident as she had been when she came in from outside.
Watching her switch back and forth was fascinating. She was haughty one minute, and then the next, unsure of herself. He longed to paint her; his fingers itched with his need to.
Chris came to the table with their bottle of wine, thus giving Blythe time to recover from her discomfort, dammit.
Chris couldn’t take his eyes off Blythe. They lit up with amusement, yet he held his tongue. Tucker doubted Chris would hesitate later in giving his opinion. He wondered if he’d send Kate over next.
“Chris and his wife are two of my closest friends.”
“How do you know each other?”
“Tuck and I grew up together.”
A look passed between them Tucker wished hadn’t. He didn’t want to spend his time with her talking about the things that had happened when they were teenagers.
“In Aspen?”
“Yes, in Aspen.” Tucker smirked because she was smirking. She’d caught the look that passed between them.
“Was Jace part of your youthful antics?”
Chris laughed out loud and excused himself from their table. “It was nice meeting you Blythe. I look forward to many amusing conversations with you in the future.”
Tucker took her hand in his and brought it to his lips. “I thought we agreed not to bring Jace with us tonight.”
“You know Jace,” she answered. “He pushes his way in.”
Again he wanted to laugh. She was charming. He turned her hand over and kissed her palm. When he opened his mouth and kissed it again, she shuddered.
***
Jace sat at the table in Ben and Liv’s house, listening to the uneasy banter taking place between his cousin and Irene’s fiancé. He got the impression Ben wasn’t a fan, and the feeling was mutual. He wondered what was behind it. He looked over at Irene, who stood in the kitchen with the baby, Willow was her name, in her arms. Willow was pulling at Irene’s necklace, and she nipped playfully at the baby’s hands trying to get her to release it.
He’d seen interact with kids at the ranch; she was always good with them. He wouldn’t expect her to be any different with Willow than she was with them.
Jace shifted his gaze from her, back to the table, and caught Billy’s eye. He hadn’t missed Jace’s lingering look at his fiancée.
“Where did your brother go?” asked Billy.
“He and Blythe went for a drive.”
“Huh.”
“Huh, what?”
“Nothin’.”
“Come on Patterson, you have somethin’ on your mind, say it.”
Billy shook his head no, and looked over at the kitchen, where Liv and Paige stood with Irene and Willow.
“It’s nothin’,” he murmured. His gaze shifted back to Mark, who hadn’t missed what was transpiring.
Jace wondered where Tucker had taken Blythe. This thing between the three of them was something he knew better than to start. It felt too much like it had one other time, with another girl they were both drawn to.
He’d learned the hard way then, what happened when he and Tuck wanted the same woman—loved the same woman. And at this time of year, the memories were especially strong.
Jace saw the way Blythe looked at him when they were introduced. He felt the spark, and knew she had too. This was more than a casual flirtation, more than a girl he and Tuck would woo, and then forget about.
He could tell himself it was only about the game, the conquest, the competition between him and his brother. But he knew better. This was more; he could feel it. If he was smart, he would force himself to deny what he was feeling, ignore it. But like before, the feeling had taken hold, he couldn’t let it go, even knowing what might happen.
Blythe was on shaky ground with the two of them. She wore her insecurity on her sleeve. Tucker’s broodiness swept her up, but Jace knew she’d also respond to his softer side. Where Tucker sometimes lacked a certain gentility, Jace was a cowboy, and a gentleman. Cowboys had a code when it came to women. Actually, cowboys had a code about everything, but women in particular.
Find her, protect her, spoil her, dance with her, and never stop loving her. Or someone else will.
Blythe looked like a woman who had never been treated the cowboy way. He was the man to show her how that felt. He’d let it go for tonight. He had at least two more days to woo Miss Blythe away from his brother. He intended to make the most of it.
The other truth of it was, he needed the distraction. It hurt like hell to be in Irene’s presence.
When Jace came back from Spain a few weeks ago, all he could think about was seeing Irene. He had such plans for them. And then, in less than twenty-four hours, he realized she was lost to him forever. There hadn’t been any point in fighting for her. It only would’ve prolonged the inevitable.
Again with the damn cowboy code. He chose to be honorable. He called Billy Patterson himself, and told him how to get his girl back. Not that Patterson needed the advice. Still.
Chapter 3
If a man wanted to woo a woman, Django’s was the place to do it. The setting was intimate, and so romantic. Tucker knew wine, and chose the perfect red to complement the small plates the restaurant was known for. As he said he would, he ordered for them.
“What are these, they look jalapeños?”
“They’re shishito peppers, which are from the same family of peppers, but these are sweet rather than spicy. They’re stuffed with almonds.”
The next plate the waiter delivered looked like a thin crust pizza. “And this?” she asked.
“Catalonian flat bread.”
“Renie mentioned you were recently in Spain. Are you missing it?
“I was, until I met a fascinating and very beautiful girl in Colorado.”
She blushed. “And what are these?” She pointed to something on the flat bread.
“Those are dates and caramelized onions, sprinkled with blue cheese.”
It was all so good, Blythe couldn’t eat another bite, until Tucker ordered blood orange sorbet. It was light enough that she allowed herself a decadent spoonful or two.
All night he watched every move she made. At first she found it disconcerting. Soon though, she began to en
joy it. It had been a very long time since a man paid this kind of attention to her. If ever. As much as she wanted to leave earlier today, to get away from Renie’s criticism, now she was glad she hadn’t. Tucker’s unabashed enthrallment made up for Renie’s earlier indifference ten-fold.
They talked very little. When her initial attempts to learn more about Jace failed, she asked him about his scar.
“Not something I talk about,” he responded.
After that, she stopped trying to force conversation. It wasn’t as though they were bored. Tucker seemed content to watch her, as if her every movement, even her breathing, spoke to him.
He took her hand in his and studied her wrist. He ran his fingers over her wrist bone, and then circled it, over and over. He studied her fingers, and the palm of her hand.
“I want to paint you,” he whispered, sending a chill down her spine. “I want to paint your delicate wrist, and your hand.”
He gently laid her hand on the table, and moved her fingers so her palm was flat against the white tablecloth but her fingers bent slightly. He moved the candle and traced the shadow her hand cast.
If he could get this lost in her hand, she longed to know what it would be like if he made love to her. It would likely take days. With that thought, he lifted her hand and kissed her palm, open-mouthed, like he had before.
Could he read her thoughts? She felt as though he could.
“We should go,” she said.
“No, not yet.”
“Yes, Tucker. I need to get back. Please.”
She needed to get back to the house and away from this man before she did something she might regret.
“What is this playing?” she asked when they were a few minutes into the drive. “It sounds so familiar.”
The tempo of the combined trumpet and piano was audaciously slow, as if the music might drift apart at any moment.
“Blue in Green,” she remembered. It had been so long since she’d heard it.
“You know it.”
“My father. He loves Miles. He loves music.”
“It is my favorite piece of music on this recording. The depth of feeling…”
As his voice drifted off, without him finishing his thought, Blythe wondered again what making love would be like with him. Slow, subtle, transcending. Like the music. She closed her eyes and imagined their two bodies moving together, languid.
Tucker stopped the truck at the entrance to the ranch.
“I have to do this,” he said. His hand cupped the back of her neck, as it had before, and he kissed her, like she imagined he would. Slow, subtle, transcending.
Heat spread throughout her body and she longed for him to hurry, but she knew he wouldn’t. It would never matter what they were doing, Tucker would never hurry. Spending only a few short hours with him taught her that. She hadn’t seen him be impatient since they walked out of the Ben’s house earlier in the evening.
He moved away from her, put the truck back in gear and drove the rest of the way to the house. Had she done something wrong? Had she been too eager?
“Don’t,” he said. “When you and I are together for the first time, it won’t be on the bench seat of a truck.”
He didn’t turn to look at her when he spoke, but his tone resonated with her. They were feeling the same things. Need. Desire. Impatience. But the time wasn’t right.
The house was dark and quiet. Blythe was surprised by it. Her parents were such night owls. But tomorrow would be a busy day, and an early one.
Tucker walked down the stairs with her. She was staying in Renie’s room. He was across the hall in one of the kid’s rooms. She wished they were staying in different houses. The temptation of him being across the hall was almost too much.
She stepped inside the room and quickly closed the door behind her. She knew if she kissed him again, she wouldn’t want to say good night.
Tucker should have stayed in town, not here at the house, and not in the bedroom across the hall from Blythe. His body pulsed with a need for her. Sleep would not come easy for him tonight.
***
Jace heard them come downstairs. They didn’t speak, if they had, he would’ve heard every word they said. Both bedroom doors closed seconds later. He looked over at the clock; it was after midnight.
He knew nothing happened between them, or rather he would’ve known if it had. He felt Tucker’s pull to the girl though; it was as strong as his own.
Tomorrow was Thanksgiving. Tucker didn’t do holidays, particularly this one.
Irene—Renie, he’d never get comfortable calling her that—was playful tonight, and happy. The mood throughout the house had been joyful. His parents arrived shortly after Tucker and Blythe left, and were disappointed they missed him. But the reunion between Bud and Hank was heartwarming. The stories they told about their fathers had everyone enraptured.
Tomorrow promised more of the same. Jace planned to make Blythe the center of his attention, make her laugh, get to know her. Tucker wasn’t the only Rice man with charm. He had it too, and he intended to use it.
Blythe couldn’t sleep. Every time she drifted off, thoughts of Tucker woke her. She wondered what tomorrow would be like for them. Would he be demonstrative affectionately, like he was tonight? Would he continue to woo her, in front of their families, or would he pull back?
And what about Jace? What had he meant when he said it wasn’t over? Was this a competition between two brothers? Had they wagered which of them could win her affection, and once they had, would they cast her aside?
She tossed and turned most of the night. When she heard noises coming from the kitchen and saw it was daylight, she got out of bed. She didn’t care who was up there, as long as it wasn’t Tucker or Jace. She needed someone to talk to.
Her dad was in the kitchen; she thought it might be him. He was often the first one up. At home the two of them had coffee alone together most every morning.
“Morning Daddy,” she said. She put her arms around his waist and he kissed the top of her head.
“Where did you go last night?”
“Tucker took me out for dinner.”
“Mighty unsociable of you, wasn’t it?”
“I got tired of everyone picking on me,” she pouted. “Doubtful anyone noticed I was gone anyway.”
“I noticed.”
“Doubt anyone else did.”
“Oh please, Blythe. Don’t play the poor-me card. You’re above that kind of crap. Since when have you cared what anyone else thinks?”
“It was Mom and Renie. My best friend and my mother. I’m not supposed to care what they think? Come on Dad.”
“Take it in the context it was meant. Renie is a bit of a doormat. She always has been. It’s time she stood up for herself. And as it relates to you…hand it right back to her. There isn’t anything that says one of you needs to be the walker and the other walked-on. You’re equals.”
“It’s weird.”
“Billy and Renie?”
“And a baby. You don’t think that’s weird? And Liv is pregnant. Weirdness surrounds us.” Liv made the announcement the first night they were in town; she and Ben were having a baby.
“I heard that,” said Liv. She sat down on the bar stool next to Blythe.
“Coffee, or are you abstaining?” Mark asked.
“Give me coffee or die,” she answered.
“Okay. Not abstaining.”
“Did you have fun last night? Where did Tucker take you?”
“We went to Django’s.”
“Nice. Very romantic.” Liv grinned at her.
“Yes, it was. And it was what I needed. I was wooed.”
“There’s more where that came from sugar,” said Jace as he came in the kitchen. He stopped to pour himself a cup of coffee. “My turn today.”
“Your turn for what?” asked Mark.
“Wooin’ your daughter. Tucker stole her away last night. I won’t let him get away with it again today.” Jace walked over and sat
on the other side of Blythe.
“I’m not a thing for you to compete over. I’m a person. And I’m not interested in participating in whatever game the two of you are playing.”
“No game darlin’. I told you yesterday I wanted to get to know you. Didn’t I?”
“I don’t remember.”
Mark walked to the refrigerator and rummaged around for anything that looked like breakfast food.
“Want some help?” asked Liv, joining him. She lowered her voice. “Should we leave them alone?” she whispered.
“Not sure that’s a good idea,” Mark whispered back.
“But aren’t you uncomfortable?”
“Very.”
“I have a few last minute items to get from the market. Will you run me into town?”
Liv and her dad left, which Blythe was not happy about.
“We’re alone now,” she said. “Let’s lay this on the line. I meant what I said. I’m not a toy Jace. Just because I’m the only single woman here this weekend, doesn’t mean you and Tucker have to win me over. It’s Thanksgiving weekend, not singles’ weekend.”
“If you could do anything you wanted to do today, what would it be?” Jace asked, acting as though he hadn’t heard a word she said.
“No idea. I haven’t had enough coffee to start thinking about it.”
“Let’s go have coffee. Irene took me to this great place, Rumors was the name of it.”
“Jace, it’s Thanksgiving. I’m sure they’re closed.”
“Oh. You’re right. I bet there’d be somethin’ open at the ski area.”
“That’s what I’d do.”
“What?”
“Ski. You asked what I’d do if I could do anything I wanted to. That’s it. I’d ski.”
“Let’s do it then.”
“What? No. Again I remind you, it’s Thanksgiving.”
“So? Are you on kitchen duty today?”
“No one would want my help in the kitchen,” she laughed. “I’m not what you’d call a cook.”
“Okay, then, let’s go skiing. Dinner isn’t until later this afternoon. They don’t need our help. Let’s go.”
And Then You Kiss (Crested Butte Cowboys Series Book 3) Page 3
