A Maverick to [Re] Marry

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A Maverick to [Re] Marry Page 13

by Christine Rimmer

They ended up on the blanket, making love in the dappled shade of the tree. Afterward, they put their clothes back on and lay side by side, holding hands, staring up through the wind-ruffled cottonwood leaves at the wide blue sky.

  She had so much to tell him, all the secrets of her heart, the longing in her soul. She needed him to know how much she had missed him all the years they’d been apart, needed to confess that she couldn’t help dreaming of a possible future with him.

  Too bad she had no idea how to even start saying all that she yearned to say.

  She rolled her head toward him. He was already watching her. She drank in the sight of him, his square, beard-scruffy jaw, his eyes, green as shamrocks right now, the perfect, sexy dent in the center of his chin. “I never want to leave you. I want to stay here forever, Derek, just you and me.”

  He gave her that smile, the one that made her heart stop and her belly hollow out. “Right here under this tree?”

  Should she go for it, go all the way right here and now? Was it too early?

  How did people do this? Start over. Really begin. She hardly knew how. She’d done it so badly the last time. She hadn’t been brave enough.

  Hadn’t been true enough.

  And now she had another chance—or at least, she hoped that was what this might be. She didn’t want to blow it. She didn’t want to push too fast.

  Or miss the moment when it was finally upon her.

  Would she mess it up this time, too, and lose him all over again?

  Her heart knocked against her rib cage and her pulse raced.

  He used the hand that wasn’t holding hers, reaching across his broad chest to brush a slow, wonderfully rough finger along the line of her jaw. “You all right?”

  Not yet! screeched a terrified voice in her head. Don’t say anything yet! Get a grip. It’s way too soon. You’ll ruin everything.

  “Yeah.” Her heart rate slowed and she dared to breathe again as she chose the easy way out. “I was thinking we could make a little shelter here, a hut of sticks and pine branches.”

  He lifted their joined hands and pressed his lips to her knuckles, one by one. Gladness filled her so full, she felt she might burst apart. She said, “It could get mighty cold when winter comes.”

  “Well then, we’d have to get under the blanket and hold each other really tight.” To demonstrate, he rolled toward her, reaching for her, gathering her close, sheltering her in the strength of his arms.

  I love you, Derek. I always have. You are the only man for me. It sounded so good inside her head. So good and so true.

  And she would say it. Just not now, not so soon.

  Later. When the time was right.

  * * *

  Friday, Eva’s sisters were due to arrive: Delphine, her husband, Harrison, and their three boys from Billings; and Calla, her husband, Patrick, and their two kids from Thunder Canyon.

  Amy planned to spend the day at the Armstrong house in town. It would be so good, to get some quality time not only with Delphine and Calla and their families, but also with Marion and Ray Armstrong, who’d been like a second mother and father to her while she was growing up.

  She saw Derek off at his house early that morning when he went out to cut alfalfa with Eli and his cousins, and she promised to meet him back there after the big family dinner at Ray and Marion’s.

  “It might be late,” she warned him. “Delphine and Calla and I have a lot of catching up to do.”

  “I don’t care if it’s the middle of the night when they finally let you out of there. We agreed every night for as long as you’re here, remember?”

  Had they agreed on that? She wasn’t really sure. But whether they had or they hadn’t, she wanted every night she could get with him. “Well, all right then. I’ll be here. Leave the porch light on.”

  He kissed her, a long, deep one. And then she stood in the yard, waving and grinning like a lovestruck fool as he started up his truck and headed off down the dirt ranch road toward the main house and the barn.

  Eva was already at the two-story Armstrong family home in town when Amy arrived at nine. Delphine and Calla and their families had set out long before dawn. Of the two older sisters, Delphine got there first at a little after eleven. Calla and her crew arrived just before noon.

  They all shared lunch out in the backyard. It was just like old times, except with even more of them, now that Calla’s and Delphine’s husbands and active youngsters had been added to the mix. Amy could almost grow wistful with her friends’ children all around. At ten years old, Calla’s daughter, Fiona, was becoming such a young lady. And Delphine’s oldest, Tommy, was already nine. Amy marveled at how fast they were all growing up.

  And she couldn’t help feeling a little bit sad. If she and Derek had stayed together, they would have recently celebrated thirteen years of marriage. Their might-have-been baby would be twelve now, the oldest of the children in the Armstrong backyard.

  Luke showed up at a little after five. He came in the door and Eva ran to greet him. Amy felt a sharp, painful tug on her heartstrings that Derek couldn’t somehow be there, too. Eva and her sisters had all found love. Amy was the only single adult in the bunch today. They all looked so happy, with their lives, their loves, their families.

  What would they say if they knew she’d been married before any of them?

  Married and divorced before she was even nineteen.

  Nobody was going to congratulate her for that.

  As they gathered around the big dining room table to sit down for dinner, there was a knock at the door.

  Luke said, “That’s Derek. I’ll get it.”

  Amy’s heart leapt—and she didn’t miss the sly grin that Eva tried to hide.

  Yep. No doubt about it. Her lifelong BFF was matchmaking like crazy.

  And at this point, all Amy felt about that was love and gratitude.

  When he returned to the room, Luke said, “You all remember Derek, my best man.”

  Derek’s hair was still damp from his shower and he looked so hot and handsome in a green-and-black plaid snap-front shirt and dress jeans.

  Delphine and Calla both jumped up to give him a quick hug of greeting. Introductions were made to the husbands and kids—reintroductions really. Derek, it turned out, had met both Delphine’s and Calla’s husbands over the years and more than one of the kids.

  “Have a seat, everyone,” said Marion.

  Eva piped up with, “Derek, there’s a free chair next to Amy.”

  Derek came right over, pulled out Amy’s chair for her and then sat down beside her. She leaned toward the man who owned her nights—at least until the wedding—and greeted him teasingly, “Derek. So nice to see you again.”

  “Yeah.” His gaze held hers and a delicious little shiver skittered down her spine and tickled the backs of her knees. “We need to get together more often.”

  She didn’t look away. “I think that can be arranged. How come you didn’t tell me you were coming for dinner?”

  “Because I didn’t know I was coming until Luke called this afternoon and invited me.”

  Amy slid another glance at Eva, who was still watching them, still trying to hide her self-satisfied grin. “Did you have to skip Friday happy hour at the Ace?” Amy teased the man beside her.

  “To tell you the truth, I wasn’t planning on dropping by there anyway. Hanging out at the local bar kind of loses its appeal when you have someone special right there at home.” His gaze held hers and sheer joy shimmered through her.

  Marion beamed down the length of the table at Ray. “Honey, please say the blessing. Everyone, join hands.”

  Amy offered one hand to Harrison. Derek took the other, his grip warm and firm. Ray said grace, amens echoed around the table and then everyone was talking at once, passing overflowing bowls and piled-high serving platters, dishing up the food.

  Derek’s hand brushed Amy’s again, this time where it rested in her lap. She sent him a soft smile, turned her palm up and linked her fin
gers with his. Just long enough to share their own private moment with no one the wiser.

  He had to pull away to serve himself a giant spoonful from the heaping bowl of mashed potatoes, but the warmth of his touch still lingered, soothing the old hurt for all the time they might have had together if things could have been different somehow.

  * * *

  Amy and Derek left the Armstrong house at half past eight. She followed him back to the Circle D.

  They were barely in the door before he tossed his hat on the small entry table and grabbed her close.

  His kiss...

  Nothing compared to it.

  She melted against him, her heart full of longing, her whole body burning, sparks of awareness popping and flashing all through her, her belly hollowing out, every inch of her skin on fire for him.

  And then her phone rang.

  She tried to ignore it, but Derek took her by the shoulders and pulled his thrilling, hot mouth from hers.

  “Come back here.” She slid her fingers up into his hair and fisted them, surging up to claim those lips again.

  But he just held on to her arms and stared in her eyes as the ringtone finally went silent. “That was your dad, am I right?”

  She yanked the phone from the back pocket of her favorite jeans and dropped it on the narrow table next to Derek’s discarded hat. “My dad can wait. I’ll call him later.” The voice-mail alert chimed and she pretended not to hear it. “Now...” She slid her hands up over the crisp fabric of his shirt, enjoying the muscled strength in the hard flesh beneath. “Where were we?”

  He just continued to stare down at her. “You ever call your mom back?”

  Talk about a mood-killer. “I don’t want to get into this.” She dropped her hands and turned away.

  But she didn’t get far because he pulled her back. “You need to at least let them know that you’re fine and you’ll be in touch when you’re ready.”

  “I don’t need to do any such thing.” She yanked free of his hold. “I’m thirty-one years old. It’s up to me when and how I reach out to my parents.” She turned on her heel and headed toward the great room.

  “Thirty-one, huh?” He spoke to her retreating back. “Well, you’re acting like a spoiled brat.”

  She whirled on him. “I don’t want to talk to them right now.”

  He put up both hands. “Then don’t talk to them. But let them know you’re safe and well.”

  “Why are you worried about them? They’ve never been anything but mean to you.”

  He was trying not to grin. She could see the slight quiver at the corner of that sexy mouth of his. “They weren’t that mean.”

  She let out a little growl of frustration. “I’m so mad at my dad for never telling me that he went after you that day, that he got you alone and worked on you. If he’d just stayed out of it—”

  “What?” He raked his hands back through his beautiful, messy hair. “I mean, think about it. Yeah, he made it clear what he wanted and how he knew that what he wanted was right. But we made the decision, the two of us, you and me. You wanted to go—and I told you to go.”

  “But he didn’t tell me what he did. For thirteen years, he didn’t tell me. And he knew I was coming to town for the wedding, knew that I would be here for a whole month and that I would more than likely run into you. And still he didn’t tell me what I had a right to know. That’s what I’m so angry about.”

  Derek picked up the phone and held it out to her. “A text. One sentence. ‘I’m fine. Don’t worry. I’ll call you when I’m ready to talk.’”

  “Actually...” she said, wrinkling her nose at him, “that’s three sentences.”

  “Oh, come on, Amy. Can’t you do that much for the poor guy who thinks the sun rises and sets on his little girl, and who’s probably worried sick that you’re dead in a ditch somewhere? Can’t you just put his mind at ease?”

  She wrapped her arms around her middle and fumed at him for a good fifteen seconds, feeling brattier and more mean-spirited as each second ticked by.

  “Please,” he said so very gently, melting her heart to a puddle of goo.

  “Oh, all right.” She marched back to him, grabbed the phone from his hand and typed out the exact three sentences he had suggested. “There.” She held up the phone so he could read it for himself. “Satisfied?”

  “Send it.”

  She hit the icon, closed the window and set the phone back down by his hat. “Now, I want you to make mad, passionate love to me, please. Do not make me hang around to see what he sends back.”

  “Deal.” He took her hand, lifted it to his mouth and pressed his lips to the back of it. “God. You are so beautiful. All evening, at the Armstrongs’, I kept thinking how I’m the guy who gets to bring you home.”

  Her pulse fluttered madly and her tummy got those butterflies—but she sulked anyway, as a matter of principle. “Flatter me all you want, but you kind of ruined the hot, sexy mood. You know that, right? You’re going to have to make a serious effort to seduce me now, so stop fooling around and get to work.”

  He guided their joined hands around behind his back, pulling her up nice and close. He felt so warm and big and solid. And he smelled of leather and soap and that outdoorsy aftershave he favored. They had tonight and then one more week of nights. This impossible, wonderful time they’d agreed to be together was racing by much too fast.

  “Just give me a chance,” he teased.

  “A chance for what?”

  “To kiss it and make it all better.” His rough, husky tone sent tendrils of heat curling down her spine.

  She went on tiptoe, caught his earlobe between her teeth and gave it a tug, loving the low, needful sound he made in response. “Okay, you’re forgiven. And yes, please, I would love it if you would kiss it and make it all better.”

  Her phone lit up, wrecking her mood all over again.

  She glared up at him. “Don’t ask me to check that.”

  “I wouldn’t dare.” He dropped a quick kiss on the end of her nose.

  She unlaced their fingers and stepped back from him. Muttering a few choice words, she took the phone and brought up the text from her dad.

  All right, then. Thanks for letting us know you’re okay. Your mother and I send love.

  She flashed the phone at Derek. “Happy now?” He just looked at her, all manly and tender, everything she’d ever wanted and lost somehow during the turbulent summer of her eighteenth year. “Grrr,” she said, trying to drum up the outrage that kept draining away because he was so thoughtful and wonderful and good. “Ugh.” And then she turned the phone back around and punched out, Love you, too, reading the words aloud in a singsong as she typed them. “And...” She hit the little envelope icon. “Sent and done.” And then she grabbed his hand and pulled him down the central hall, detouring to the right when she reached the open doorway that led to his bedroom.

  * * *

  Feeling like the luckiest man alive, Derek smoothed Amy’s hair back and pressed a kiss to the flawless skin of her forehead. “You realize we have to be up by five at the latest.” It was after midnight. They’d used two condoms and were discussing the wisdom of using a third. “We need to get some sleep.”

  “Yeah, I know.” Her sigh was resigned. “Tomorrow’s going to be a very busy day.”

  They still had to load his pickup and her Audi with the party stuff stored in his spare room. Bailey would bring everything that was still in the barn at Sunshine Farm. Everyone in the wedding party was on board to help—except the bride and the groom, who would have pitched in gladly if Amy would only allow that. Several other friends and family members had volunteered, as well.

  They would all converge on Maverick Manor at 6:00 a.m. sharp. With everybody pitching in, Amy predicted they would have the setup complete by early afternoon.

  She snuggled in closer to him, all gorgeous curves and velvet skin. He could hardly believe his good fortune, to have thirteen years’ worth of dreams come true right h
ere in his bed—for the next seven days, anyway.

  Her breath brushed his neck and then her soft lips, too. She made a throaty, sexy little sound and traced his collarbone with a soft, lazy finger. “You feel so good. I love just touching you. Always. And forever. And even longer than that...”

  Then stay with me. Never leave.

  God. He wanted to say it.

  But they’d only been together for a week. He needed to wait—at least until after the wedding. Then, one way or another, before she left for Boulder, he would ask her to consider a future for the two of them, ask her if maybe she might be willing to stay.

  “Sleep.” He settled her in closer and nuzzled her hair. It was everywhere, a net of silk, trailing over his shoulder, pooling against his bare chest, catching in his beard scruff that came in too fast no matter how often he shaved.

  I love you...

  For a moment, he was certain he’d said it aloud and he didn’t know whether to be glad that the words were out of his mouth after more than a decade of not being able to say them—or terrified that she might not take him seriously.

  That could happen. He had to be ready for it. She could so easily say something gentle and regretful, about how they couldn’t go there. How this was just a fling for as long as she was in town, how they both needed to accept this beautiful time together for what it was and not ruin a good thing.

  Glad or terrified...

  He didn’t know which to be.

  And he needed to stop obsessing about it. He wasn’t going to say a thing about love and the future to her, anyway.

  Not for another week yet, at least.

  Chapter Nine

  “This party is perfect,” Viv Shuster announced.

  Amy beamed with pride. Things were going so well.

  It was ten o’clock on Saturday night and the Jack and Jill bachelor party was in full swing. The guests, who added up to just about every adult in town and a lot of friends and family from other parts of the state and beyond, filled the public rooms of the gorgeous log cabin resort.

  The last time Amy checked, every table in the casino room had been full. And in the giant, high-ceilinged lobby, the band played an upbeat Brad Paisley song and a lot of people were dancing, most of them wearing the straw cowboy hats offered at the door, hats decorated with a band of hearts and Eva & Luke written in glitter on a bigger heart where the crown met the brim. The Nearly Newlywed Game was a hit. Everyone seemed to be stepping up to bet on Luke and Eva’s answers, dropping a buck in a giant pickle jar for each entry. The winner would go home with the pickle jar of dollar bills and a really nice bottle of champagne.

 

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