From This Moment On

by Debbi Rawlins

Her foot slammed on the brakes before she knew what she was doing. Not much room for her to pull over, but she managed to park halfway off the road in case anyone had to squeeze by. She cut the engine and jumped out, knowing Trace would’ve stopped, as well.

  She couldn’t go inside. Or be anywhere near the house. Funny, how only minutes ago she’d worried people expected tears she couldn’t shed. Now she feared the flood gates wouldn’t hold.

  “Hey, honey, you okay?” Trace had gotten out of his truck and was walking toward her. The night was black except for the pickup’s headlights, and she focused on his long legs closing the distance between them.

  She flung herself at him, knowing he’d catch her, confident he wouldn’t let her fall no matter what.

  His arms came up around her, and she burrowed against him, burying her face in his chest, hugging him around the waist, holding on as tight as she could.

  “Nikki,” he whispered when she shuddered. “It’s okay, honey, I’ve got you.”

  What was it about Trace that made her want to trust him? She couldn’t figure it out, and right now she didn’t care. “Take me someplace,” she said, finding comfort in the sure steady beat of his heart against her cheek. “Anywhere we can be alone.”

  He stroked her back. “Matt’s expecting you.”

  “It’s fine. I’ll call him.”

  “I know it’ll be hard to—”

  She cut him off by gripping the back of his neck and pulling him into a kiss. He resisted at first, and then she didn’t have to stretch so high because he lowered his head and kissed her back. His breath was warm, laced with mint and coffee. She parted her lips for him, offering only panic and desperation in return.

  He touched his tongue to hers, teasing and tempting her to join the dance. She clung to his neck, tugging him closer, willing him to kiss her harder and deeper and help her forget what she had to do.

  Instead, Trace gently peeled her hand from the back of his neck. “Nikki,” he whispered. “This isn’t the time.”

  “Make love to me, Trace. Please. Take me away from here. Anywhere.” She heard his sharp intake of breath and pressed her advantage by moving his hand over her breast.

  “Sex isn’t the answer.”

  She yanked her blouse from her jeans, then started unfastening buttons. He caught her hand on the third one. “I know you want me,” she said, jerking his shirt hem loose. She slid her palm underneath the fabric, over his flat belly, up to his bare chest, knowing she was turning him on. “Deny it if you want, but I’ll know it’s a lie.”

  “I’d never deny it.”

  “So? Come on. You must know someplace private around here. Your truck has a backseat, let’s go park somewhere.”

  “Ah, Nikki.” He moved his hand away from her breast to touch her face. She sucked his forefinger into her mouth and rubbed her body against his. What he said didn’t matter, he was hard, really hard. “I know you’re hurting,” he said huskily. “But do you really want to worry Matt? Or Rachel and Lucy?”

  She almost bit him. She hadn’t asked anyone to care about her. Wrong thing to do. If anyone got too close they’d see how cowardly and selfish she really was, and what then? Would they still think she was worth their concern?

  Pulling up his T-shirt, she pressed her mouth against his warm skin. He smelled strong and masculine, and she had no doubt he could make her forget a whole lot. With the tip of her tongue she tempted his resolve and sampled the slight saltiness of his skin. His breath came out harsh and raspy, and she knew he was on the verge of giving in to her.

  “Come on, Trace,” she murmured against his chest. “Last chance.” She cupped his erection through the thick denim fly, pressing against his cock with her palm, using just enough pressure to make him moan.

  He jerked. Stilled. Then pushed her hand aside. “Nikki, stop. I mean it.”

  She froze, not sure what to do next. She could’ve sworn she had him. “Goddamn you, Trace,” she said, and shoved him back. “Damn you.”

  “Wait.” He tried to capture her hand, but she dodged him and ran for her truck.

  She was too angry, hurt and embarrassed to hear anything more. He probably assumed she’d make a beeline for the highway. Good. Let him waste time blocking the road. Exhaustion had dug in to every pore and was slowly leveling her. She wanted to crawl into bed, pull the quilt over her head and sleep for three days. Maybe she’d find that today had only been part of a bad dream.

  Her name carried on the breeze, and she muffled his voice by starting the noisy engine. By the time she pulled into her normal parking spot near the house, she saw Trace’s headlights right behind her. Taking the flagstone walk, she counted four extra cars, two of them unfamiliar. Trace met her at the front door.

  “You didn’t have to follow me,” she said. “I’m a big girl.”

  He smiled. “I came to pay my respects to Matt.”

  Nikki swallowed, briefly closed her eyes and breathed in deeply. She put her hand on the doorknob and told herself she could do this. But she only believed it when Trace touched the small of her back.

  10

  “THIS IS WAY TOO MUCH food.” Nikki eyed the huge bowl of cubed potatoes, then frowned at the whole ones she had yet to cut up. “Everyone’s going to be eating potato salad for a month.”

  “Don’t bet on it.” Rachel used the back of her wrist to dab at her tears. “Any time you want to trade is okay with me. We don’t need as many onions.”

  “No, thanks.” Nikki started to smile, then sighed.

  She probably should show more gratitude. Here Rachel, Hilda and Mrs. McAllister were doing all this work to feed people after Wallace’s funeral tomorrow. Plus they were dirtying their own kitchen. All because Lucy insisted on a proper church service and burial.

  Matt hadn’t argued with her, though Nikki doubted he cared one way or the other. She’d stayed completely neutral. What mattered most to her was that this whole thing be over and done with. Let everyone get back to normal. Including her. Last night Sadie had refused to let her work again. It had really pissed Nikki off. She’d already done her dutiful best the night Wallace died.

  So what she’d remained in the corner praying for a shot of tequila until Wallace’s body was taken away and everyone left. At least she’d been present, and that was more than anyone should’ve expected. Rachel hadn’t batted an eye, and that was one of the things Nikki liked about Matt’s girlfriend. She was totally nonjudgmental and supportive at the same time. Must be a McAllister trait. Trace was the same way.

  Nikki hadn’t seen him since that night.... Actually, it had been after midnight when he left. She’d gone up to her room five minutes later, feeling no less embarrassed than she had when he’d turned down her offer.

  God, the humiliation still hadn’t disappeared. If things had gone differently and they’d had sex? Hard to even imagine how she’d be feeling. He’d been right to refuse. She kind of owed him, though she was happy to ignore the incident.

  “Will there be booze served at this thing?” she asked.

  “Huh. I don’t recall it coming up.” Rachel turned away from the cutting board, making a face and sniffling. “I am so over dicing onions. This has to be enough.”

  “No.” Hilda kept stirring the refried beans on the stove, but frowned at the small mound in front of Rachel. “We need at least three more.”

  “Seriously?”

  Hilda gave her a look that said she was quite serious.

  “I’ll do it,” Nikki said. “This is for my fa—” She almost choked on the word. Where had that come from? “For Matt and me,” she muttered, focusing her attention on laying down the knife. “Let’s trade.”

  “No, it’s okay.” Rachel gave an exaggerated sniff. “Really.”

  Hilda shook her head and went back to humming while she stirred.

  Nikki sighed. The onion-dicing job would be better for her. Every now and then, she got a little teary-eyed. She couldn’t explain it, other than a general feeling of sadness. B
ut if the waterworks started, at least she could blame the onions.

  “I want to do it, honest.” She tried to elbow Rachel aside.

  “No, go call Matt. Ask him if we should offer beer and/or liquor tomorrow.”

  “You know him,” Nikki said. “He won’t care.”

  “Yeah, maybe we should ask Lucy.”

  “She’s not home,” Mrs. McAllister said, carrying in bags of beef and vegetables she’d gone to get from the freezer. “She’s delivering the clothes Wallace is to be buried in.”

  Nikki stared down at the potatoes. His death hadn’t completely sunk in yet. His bedroom door remained closed. Every time she went upstairs it was a jolt to realize he wasn’t there.

  “Thank you for doing all of this,” she said quietly. “I can’t say I understand...I know how horrible he was to your family.”

  “Wallace wasn’t always difficult.” Mrs. McAllister dropped the packages on the counter and patted her arm. “As a young man he could be quite charming. Besides, this really isn’t for him.”

  Charming.

  The word alone was like an intolerable high-pitched scream to her ears. Nikki’s mother had used the same description. He’d charmed his way right into her bed and made promises he never intended to keep. But then Wallace had made a daughter, too, and hadn’t kept her, either.

  Dammit, she’d also made a promise, one she had yet to honor. Why was she finding it so hard to call her mom? Why did her mother even care that he was gone?

  She smiled at Mrs. McAllister, who’d moved to the sink. “We’re trying to decide whether to serve booze tomorrow. I can pick some up after I leave here.”

  “That’s your call. Some people do, some don’t.” She narrowed her eyes at something outside the window. “What in the world is that woman thinking? That stallion was still rearing not ten minutes ago. Trace doesn’t need to be distracted.”

  Nikki and Rachel hurried to the window. He was in the corral with a horse, holding a lead, trying to calm the animal down. A blonde Nikki recognized from the bar had slipped between the railings. Dividing his attention between her and the now bucking stallion, Trace waved frantically for the woman to get out.

  Rachel cursed under her breath. “I’ll go get her.”

  It was too late.

  Trace lost the lead, fell hard and rolled clear of the horse’s hooves by a scary few inches. The blonde scrambled to safety outside the corral. A cowboy ran from the barn to help Trace regain control of the stallion.

  “It seems we need to have another talk with the guests after dinner.” Mrs. McAllister’s hand was at her throat, her face pale.

  “I’m going to have one with Eve right now,” Rachel said, steam practically coming out of her ears.

  “No, don’t. Trace is going to talk to her.”

  Watching him walk over to the guest, Nikki knew he was hurt. He subtly probed his left shoulder and winced. After speaking with the woman for a minute, he gave her the usual killer smile. But as soon as he started walking toward the house putting her behind him, the smile abruptly vanished as if a switch had been flipped.

  “My poor brother,” Rachel said. “I’ve been overloading him with guest stuff and with all his other duties he’s exhausted.” She sighed. “These women have been driving him nuts lately. He’s so sick of them. I’ll have to figure something out.”

  “Other than his shoulder he seems okay,” his mother murmured. “He reminds me of your father more and more each day. Same mannerisms, same temperament. Of all your brothers he’s most— Oops, he’s headed for the mudroom. I doubt he’ll appreciate us standing around watching him. I have to run upstairs, anyway.”

  As soon as she left, Nikki looked at Rachel. “Trace is like your dad?”

  Rachel blinked. “Yeah, I guess he is.”

  Quite a compliment considering what she’d heard about Gavin McAllister. “Does he know that?”

  Rachel shrugged. “Beats me.” Her gaze returned to the window. “I hadn’t really thought about it before.”

  Nikki saw that he was close to the house. “I need to talk to him.”

  “Go,” Rachel said, with a nod at the mudroom door.

  “Thanks.” It would be private in there, at least for a few minutes. Trouble was, she didn’t know what she wanted to say except to apologize for the other night.

  He entered from outside just as she came in from the kitchen. His brows lifted in surprise. “Hey, I didn’t know you were here.”

  “Are you all right?” She stopped when he did, standing a few feet away and feeling awkward, unnerved that her first instinct had been to touch him.

  “Fine. Why?”

  “I saw you fall.”

  Disgust transformed his expression. Flushing, he squeezed his eyes shut and muttered a mild curse.

  “Don’t be embarrassed. It wasn’t your fault.”

  He yanked his gloves off and squinted at her. “Who said I’m embarrassed?”

  “Okay,” she said, trying not to smile. “Forget I said that.” She cleared her throat. “And while we’re at it, can we forget about the other night?”

  “Why?” He shrugged, doing a better job than her of controlling a smile. “What happened?”

  She fixed her gaze on his shoulder because she was still worried about him, but also to avoid his eyes. “Thank you for not taking advantage of my stupidity.”

  “Told you. It’s forgotten.” He reached for her hand and drew her closer. “How are you holding up?”

  “Numb, confused, overwhelmed...” She sighed. “Anxious to get back to work. Sadie wouldn’t let me go back last night.”

  “She was right not to,” he said, rubbing her arm.

  “I’m better off keeping busy.”

  “Yeah, but you never know what bonehead thing a customer will say that could set you off. I’m not naming names, mind you.”

  Nikki smiled. “What else hurts besides your shoulder?”

  “Ah, Jesus.” He let her go and plowed his hand through his hair. “Nothing. Nothing hurts.”

  “Well, I see your ego is in working order.”

  One side of his mouth lifted and he caught her chin. “Lucky for you I hear people in the kitchen,” he whispered.

  “Yes, they’re waiting to fawn all over you.”

  “Well, hell.” He lowered his hand and yanked a glove back on. “Thanks for the warning.”

  “Wait.” She laughed. “Where are you going?”

  “Where there aren’t females trying to either get me hurt or patch me up.” He stopped with his hand on the doorknob. “How long you gonna be around?”

  “Until we’re done preparing food for tomorrow.” She shook her head. “We’re making a ton of stuff. Way too much. I keep telling everyone— Go, before it’s too late.”

  Trace smiled. “I’ll see you later, huh?”

  Nikki nodded, amazed how much better she felt just talking to him. “You’ll be there tomorrow, right? At the funeral.”

  “Of course I will.” He gave her a long gentle look that stirred a whole new batch of strange emotions inside her. “Standing right beside you.”

  * * *

  TRACE HADN’T PULLED close enough to the curb to be legal. But that was just too damn bad. Main Street wasn’t exactly bustling at suppertime and he didn’t plan on staying long anyway. He opened the heavy oak door to the Watering Hole and backed up onto the sidewalk when Nikki stormed toward him.

  “Oh.” Frowning, she stopped, leaving enough room for him to close the door. “What are you doing here this early?”

  “What am I doing here? Just this afternoon we talked about you not coming back to work too soon.”

  “Actually, no, we didn’t.” Shoving her fingers through her hair, she dislodged her ponytail and ripped off the elastic band. “You agree with Sadie. I don’t.”

  “So, are you working or not?”

  “Sheila’s in there,” she said. “Sadie asked her to cover for me tonight.” Nikki growled and groaned at the same time, he
r restless gaze sweeping the street. “I’m so pissed I can’t see straight. Why does everyone think they can make decisions for me?” She exhaled a harsh breath, then eyed him with a frown. “I assume you came for a beer. I’ll have one with you.”

  “I didn’t come here to drink. I came to talk some sense into you.”

  Her lips parted and she just stared at him for a long drawn-out moment. “Seriously?”

  “Yeah, seriously.” He tugged on a lock of her hair. So soft and shiny, he wanted to grab a whole handful. “You gonna stand out here and argue with me?”

  She sighed, her shoulders sagging as if the fight had suddenly left her. “I haven’t called my mom yet.”

  He took her arm and guided her the few feet to his truck. “Are you saying this is cosmic justice? I doubt you’re being punished for procrastinating.”

  “What?” She looked at him and laughed, then sighed again. “Oh, Trace, I want life to be normal. I need normal.”

  “You might want to look up the definition.” He opened the passenger door, feeling that familiar tug in his chest when she looked up at him with those wide trusting eyes. “You waiting for me to lift you up?”

  “I’m kinda normal. You just aren’t used to city women.”

  “Right.” He snorted a laugh. “Because I haven’t had my fill in the past year.”

  “Hey, what about me? Had enough of me?”

  “Sometimes I can’t decide if I wanna kiss you or strangle you.” He had her trapped between the door and the seat, his body blocking her escape. “Does that answer your question?” He leaned close enough to kiss her, close enough to see the gold flecks of excitement dancing in her warm brown eyes.

  “I get that,” she said with a small grin. “Where are we going?”

  “For a ride...maybe find a place to park on one of the ridges.”

  Her brows lifted.

  He smiled, draping one arm over the door and letting his weight bring him even closer to her. “And watch the stars.”

  Nikki laughed and pushed him back so she had room to climb up by herself. But she caught the sore spot on his shoulder, and he winced before he could stop himself.

  She got in and turned in time to see it. “Oh, no. I’m sorry. God, Trace, are you bruised? Let me see.”