From This Moment On

by Debbi Rawlins

  “Same here.” She bit her lip and glanced at Hilda, who kept turning over pieces of sizzling fried chicken, while paying them no attention. Though she must’ve heard.

  Rachel abruptly turned away, trying not to laugh, and he raced out of the kitchen and up the stairs to his room in record time. He lingered in the shower, letting the warm spray hit the back of his neck and stiff shoulders. He had to stop giving his thoughts free rein. Whether Nikki stayed or left, him worrying about it wouldn’t change a damn thing.

  Ten minutes later, the idea that she could pack up and leave at any time still rattled him no matter what he told himself. With Wallace gone, and Matt busy with setting a new course for the Lone Wolf, there wouldn’t be much to keep Nikki around here. Trace wanted to think she’d stay for him, but he hadn’t come out and asked her to, or told her how he felt about her. Of course he still hadn’t quite narrowed that down yet.

  He dried himself off, pulled on clean jeans and took a brown Western-cut shirt out of his closet. The guys would razz him again for wearing his good clothes, and he was in just the right mood to tell them where to shove it.

  The ride to town went by quickly. Already there was no street parking in front of the Watering Hole. He saw Nikki’s pickup next to the bank and grabbed a spot two trucks away.

  Music spilled out onto the sidewalk. The heavy wood door was no match when someone cranked up the jukebox. He would’ve liked it a whole lot better if the bar wasn’t so crowded, but nothing to do about it. He’d barely made it inside when someone whistled, then he heard a catcall and laughter. It was the shirt. Screw them.

  Nikki stood at the end of the bar where she turned in her drink orders, looking over her shoulder to see what the noise was about. She saw him and smiled.

  He actually felt a strange sensation in his chest. Man, it was going to be hard to walk over and not kiss her. But she looked relaxed as if this was any other night, and for now that was good enough. She moved over to make room for him, and he didn’t hesitate.

  “This is early for you,” she said once he crowded in between her and a young cowboy sitting on a stool.

  “I skipped supper.” He almost touched her cheek, but diverted his hand to plow through his hair at the last second. “Everyone else seems to have had the same idea.”

  “It’s been crazy busy since Sadie unlocked the door.” Her gaze moved over his shirt. “You look nice. Smell nice, too,” she whispered, swaying against him, her lids at half-mast.

  “Don’t go starting anything we can’t finish,” he muttered, afraid his cock mistook that as an invitation to party.

  “Oh, right. Sorry.”

  “Trace?” Sadie was a bit farther down the bar, mixing a drink. “Beer?”

  “Don’t worry about me. I can wait.”

  “Oh, shoot, I was about to help fill mugs.” Nikki scribbled something on her pad, then swung to the other side of the bar.

  He waited until she had a pitcher and mugs lined up. “Before I forget, we should set a time for a riding lesson tomorrow.”

  “Oh.” She fiddled with the tap. Once the beer began flowing, she nodded. “Good idea. I’d prefer the afternoon if that’s okay.”

  Relief surged through his body. In the few seconds it took for her to agree, he’d realized how much he needed to hear she didn’t plan on going anywhere...at least not tomorrow. “Just let me know when and I’ll be at our spot.”

  With a fretful frown, she met his eyes. “About later,” she said softly, her voice tinged with disappointment. “It sounds as if you’re not coming over tonight.”

  One more rush of relief and he was going to need to sit down. “I haven’t been invited yet.”

  Nikki’s smile lit up every dark cloud hanging over his heart. “Silly boy, I want you every night.”

  The relief that flowed through him nearly knocked him sideways. He might not be certain about where he and Nikki were headed, but the idea that he wouldn’t have the chance to find out had been killing him.

  She wasn’t leaving tonight. Tomorrow things would seem better. And after that...he had no idea, but at least time no longer felt like a fight he couldn’t win.

  17

  NIKKI WAS STARTING to get cold feet. Every time the door opened, dread kicked up another notch and she couldn’t be sorrier she’d made that deal with Karina. So much had changed between Nikki and Trace since the night she’d thought Karina was trying to pick him up. He wouldn’t think the woman’s real proposal was funny, and now neither did Nikki. Oh, he might’ve been a good sport had Karina approached him at the Sundance or in private. But here at the Watering Hole in front of Sam and the others, he wouldn’t be amused.

  In the three days since the will had been read, Nikki still hadn’t completely made up her mind about whether to accept Wallace’s money but it no longer ate at her. The more time she spent with Trace, the more she saw the appeal of sticking around, at least until she figured out for sure what she wanted to do with the rest of her life.

  Truthfully, the thought of leaving him behind was hard to contemplate. At least for now, when things felt so right. She’d been enjoying her hot nights and jam-packed days with him too much. He’d even coaxed her on top of Gypsy for ten whole minutes yesterday.

  While she had time between customers, she washed mugs, ordering herself not to check the clock. Again. When her mind occasionally drifted to the decision she had to make, she always seemed to hear Trace’s voice telling her not to let Wallace win. Matt’s solution was for her to sign over her share, accept the money and then he’d reverse the process the very next day.

  It took a few seconds to realize her phone had buzzed. It was Trace. She saw that Karina was busy studying the jukebox, and Nikki motioned to let Sadie know she had to step outside for a minute. She answered on her way to the door. It opened and Trace entered, grinning, his cell phone pressed to his ear.

  “I miss you,” he said, to which she responded with a groan and “You big dope.”

  His laugh drew Karina’s attention. Great. Too late for Nikki to drag him outside. She sighed and nodded at an older cowboy signaling for a pitcher refill.

  Trace followed her to the bar and grabbed a stool while she slipped around to the other side. “Come on.” Staring at her, his grin faltered. “You can’t be mad.”

  “No, but you might be.” While filling the pitcher, she looked past him and watched Karina close in.

  “Why?” He started to turn his head, caught a glimpse of Karina and snapped back to face the bar.

  “I leave tomorrow, cowboy.” Karina slid onto the empty stool beside him. “Last chance for me to buy you a drink.”

  “No, thanks. Just came by to visit Nikki.”

  Karina smiled at her. “You know how to make an appletini or should I wait for Sadie?”

  “I can manage,” she said.

  Karina waited until Nikki started on her appletini, then turned to Trace. “I have a business proposition for you.”

  He lifted a brow. “A what?”

  “A business proposition. This has been a working vacation for me. A scouting trip.” Karina reached into the neckline of her low-cut blouse and brought out a business card. She passed it to Trace.

  He seemed reluctant to accept it. Finally he did, then frowned at the writing. “Okay,” he said, drawing out the word.

  “My company is staging a campaign to find a cowboy to be the face of our latest line of fragrances.”

  “Why are you telling me?” Trace narrowed his gaze on Karina, but not before glancing around.

  “I think you’d have a great shot at it. We’re doing something fun and different to engage consumers in the selection process. We’re streamlining the list of candidates by making a calendar and—”

  “Hold on right there.” He lowered his voice and slid a quick look to his left, then at the door when it creaked open. “I’m not interested,” he said quietly, putting down her card by her drink.

  Nikki’s breath caught. He looked so embarrassed a
nd she hated, hated that she’d played any part in this. How could she have thought this was funny? A week ago she’d barely known him. Not the real Trace. She’d stubbornly clung to a stereotype she’d adopted the first night she’d met him in February. It was different now. She knew better, but he was going to be mad and she couldn’t blame him.

  Karina started in again, trying to convince him with flattery and large sums of money. Trace, without being rude, tried his best to get her to tone it down. The few folks sitting at nearby tables had turned toward them, their curiosity piqued. Even Sadie had moved closer.

  Nikki cleared her throat. “Karina, it’s not going to happen. You’ll have to find someone else.”

  The woman swung her a disappointed frown. “You were supposed to help convince him. Thanks for nothing.”

  Trace stared at Nikki. His expression of disbelief branded her a traitor.

  “I need to explain,” she said.

  “You sure do.” He surprised her with a short laugh. “A calendar?”

  “Yes.” Karina clearly misread his reaction and jumped back in. “You’d be perfect as Mr. March.”

  Trace shook his head, his lips pressed thin. “She’s right. Not gonna happen.”

  The woman sighed, but seemed otherwise unfazed. She took a final sip of her drink, reached into her cleavage again, then laid a ten on the bar. “Keep my card in case you change your mind. I may come back through Montana next month.” She got off the stool, paused to tilt her head and study him a moment. “Maybe Mr. July. Tight button-fly jeans, no shirt, behind you a spray of fireworks against the night sky.”

  Nikki pressed her own lips together to keep from laughing at the look of astonishment on Trace’s face. It really wasn’t funny, and she was so lucky he didn’t seem furious with her.

  “Think about it.” Karina shrugged, gave him a saucy wink and walked off.

  “Mr. July,” Trace muttered. “Shit.”

  A hand from the Lone Wolf called out, “Oh, Mr. July,” in a high-pitched voice and earned a glare from Nikki that shut him right up. The laughter that followed was predictable, but Trace ignored it all.

  “So you were in cahoots with her,” he said, and there was a hint of hurt in his eyes. “That’s surprising.”

  “Oh. No. It’s not like that.” Nikki took a deep breath. “When she explained why she was here, I thought it was funny and asked to be there when she told you. I barely knew you then.” She leaned on the bar and almost took his hand before she stopped herself. “I forgot all about it until today. I was going to warn you. That’s why I left a message.”

  “I guess I blew that part.” He moved his hand closer to hers. They weren’t touching, but they might as well have been.

  “Thanks for not being mad,” she said, still amazed he hadn’t even raised his voice. “Even though you had every right.”

  “I’m a pretty laid-back guy. Usually willing to hear someone out.” Smiling, he leaned closer. “Or let her make it up to me.”

  Nikki let out a loud laugh that drew more than a few looks. She didn’t care, and it seemed that neither did Trace. But then she noticed a customer waving his empty mug at her and she straightened with a sigh. “I have to get back to work.”

  “Well that sucks.” Trace let his gaze slide down her body as though he had much better plans for her.

  “Stop it right now, McAllister,” she warned, and picked up her tray as she came around the bar.

  The door creaked open as it had a dozen times in the past hour. Normally she ignored it unless she was expecting Trace. She didn’t know what made her look now, but she turned, and felt the blood drain from her face.

  Luis.

  How? He was supposed to be in Houston. It wasn’t possible that he could be here. Her mother promised she hadn’t told him where Nikki was living.

  His dark hair was shorter and he wore nice jeans, not his usual baggy ones. The blue knit shirt was not his style, and didn’t hide the tattoo sleeve that crawled from his wrist up the side of his neck. He couldn’t have looked more out of place.

  Her feet felt like lead weights. She couldn’t seem to move, only watch his gaze pan the room and wait for him to get to her. Her tray was still loaded and she needed to set it down or risk spilling everything.

  Luis finally spotted her. She found no relief in the faint curve of his mouth. A smile could go either way with him. He could be cruel when he was using. Nikki didn’t care that he’d sworn to her mom he’d been clean for a year.

  It finally registered that the room had grown quiet except for the country music coming from the jukebox. She had to do something. She glanced at the tables closest to her, then set the tray down on the one that had space. Everyone could sort out their own drinks.

  She saw him start for the bar and hurried to intercept him, wiping her clammy palms on her jeans. She was able to head him off. But only because he stopped when he saw her coming.

  “Hi.” She tried to swallow around the lump of panic lodged in her throat. “What are you doing here?”

  “Hello, Nikita.” Luis moved to kiss her, but she sidestepped him before realizing he’d only been going for her cheek. His touch on her arm was light, then fell away. This wasn’t the same man she remembered. “I understand,” he said quietly, giving her room.

  Obviously unaware of the drama, someone from the back yelled for their beer. Nikki automatically turned and caught Trace’s eye. She gave him a small shake of her head and hoped he stayed put. “I’m working,” she told Luis while subtly walking him toward the door. “I really can’t talk.” She saw Sadie retrieve the tray and carry it to the back.

  Of course everyone in the bar stared at them.

  “No hurry. I don’t drink any more but I can have a soda while I wait,” Luis said, studying her face. “You look good.”

  “You shouldn’t be here.”

  “I had to come. I got myself clean. Just like I promised you I would.” He sounded more urgent. “I want you back. You said you’d give me another chance if I turned my life around.”

  “Luis, I was a kid when I said that.” She could barely remember the promise she’d made in another life. “I’ve changed, too.”

  “I have savings now. Not drug money. I work at my cousin’s body shop. Totally legit. A few years and I can buy it from him.” He touched her cheek. “Everything I’ve done is for you, baby.”

  She pushed his hand away. “I’m not going back to Houston.”

  “Then we’ll go someplace else. Start fresh.”

  “No, Luis. I wish you hadn’t come.” She’d always hated the loud country music from the jukebox. Where was it now when she needed it? “Please just leave.”

  Luis looked past her, his shoulders squaring, and she knew it had to be Trace.

  “Nikki, you all right?” he asked from just behind her.

  “Fine.” She turned and forced a smile for him. “It’s okay.”

  Trace met her eyes. Her weak assurance hadn’t been enough.

  “You heard her.” Luis stayed calm, at least for him, but some of the old belligerence bled into his voice. “Go back and drink your beer, cowboy. And mind your own goddamn business.”

  “See that’s the thing.” Trace gave him a thin smile. “Nikki is my business, and she doesn’t want you here.”

  “Please stop.” She held on to Trace’s arm and put her other hand up to Luis. “Please, both of you.”

  Luis swore. “Tell me how my wife is your business.”

  Nikki couldn’t breathe. Her chest tightened and her throat closed. She reeled at Trace’s shocked expression, but it was nothing compared to the pain in his eyes.

  * * *

  TRACE WAITED FOR her denial. This stranger with the tats had to be lying. So why wasn’t she saying anything? She just stared, looking guiltier by the second. What the hell? “Nikki?”

  She sucked in air, putting a hand to her throat, still staring at him, shame written all over her face. “It’s not like that...” She briefly hung her he
ad, then looked at the other man. “Luis, just go. If you ever cared for me, you’ll leave. Now.”

  Indecision flickered in his eyes. “I only came to get what’s mine,” he said, and stroked her arm.

  Trace watched her delayed reaction in pulling away. “Sorry, dude,” he said to the guy, anger and stunned humiliation digging their hooks deeper into him. “My mistake.”

  “Please, Trace.” Her voice was so faint he almost hadn’t heard her as he walked around them and out the door.

  He got to the sidewalk, thought about stopping and bending over until his head cleared. The truck was still a block away. He pushed on.

  Nikki was married? Jesus. That wasn’t the kind of thing that could slip someone’s mind. He hated to believe the guy, and he wouldn’t have if only she’d spoken up. Even if she was legally separated, that would’ve been okay with him. Things might’ve gone differently for them until she was divorced, hell, he didn’t know.

  He jogged the last few yards to his truck, climbed inside with his heart pounding as if it would burst. Did Matt know she was married? Rachel?

  It didn’t matter because every time Nikki had kissed him, each time they’d made love, she’d lied to him. Not just words gave a lie teeth and she’d taken plenty of bites. What hurt worse was that they’d confided in each other. She’d confessed some pretty heavy stuff, so had he. To think he’d been humbled by her trust... How could he have missed it? He’d thought he knew her. More than any woman he’d ever met. The irony was, he’d finally made up his mind that tonight was the night. He was going to come right out and prove to her that he was in this thing one hundred percent.

  He’d believed with everything he had that Nikki was not only brave and strong and independent, but honest down to the bone. It’d never once occurred to him that she could be hiding so much of herself. Not after all they’d been through.

  He stuck the key in the ignition and started the truck. His gaze went back to the Watering Hole door. No one had left since him. She was still in there with that guy. Her husband.