by Wendi Darlin
She shook her head. “It’s time for me to leave, but don’t worry. My brother-in-law won’t be sending in any more troops. I’m ready to put this week behind me. I don’t ever want to hear or speak the words ‘Fantasy Ranch’ again.”
“I think you and Gavin need to talk. Maybe you can work this out,” he said softly, placing his hand on her arm. “Come back with me, please.”
“Believe me, Gavin and I don’t need to do anything else,” she said. “But you can tell him something for me.” She squared her shoulders and sniffed. The cold air burned her lungs. “Tell him he played a good game. I believed every word. And nothing I said trumps that. I left the victory belt for him.”
“Ms. Ryder.” Garrett paused. “Rebecca.” Lines burrowed deeper into his brow. “If my brother told you he loves you, you can believe it.”
“I did believe it.” Tears welled in her eyes and her heart became a suffocating weight. “But I’m not going to be stupid anymore.” She left him standing there. He called her name again, but she didn’t look back. The doors slid open and she didn’t breathe until her boots hit the carpet inside the terminal and Fantasy Ranch became a mistake she had safely put behind her.
* * * *
Marge twisted her hands in her lap. Across the desk from her, Chet scribbled out a statement.
“What time was it when you saw Gavin Carter enter the guest cabin next to yours?” he asked without looking up at her, his pen adding more details she hadn’t given him.
“I didn’t see him go into her cabin.”
“What time?” Chet said through his teeth. “Do I need to remind you what’s at stake here?”
Marge clamped her lips tight and refused to lie even as her entire body trembled. All around her, men in uniforms moved around official-looking desks. They had guns and handcuffs and the authority to lock people away. She swallowed hard. The old Marge would have cowed, signed anything Chet stuck in front of her, and gone back to Philadelphia to hide while the details played out. Her knees bumped the cool metal of the desk and she focused on her hands.
“I’m not going to sign any statement full of lies. Or any statement at all. I’ll pay you back the money you spent to bring me out here. But I’m not doing this undercover farce.” She summoned the nerve to face her nephew, but the instant her head lifted she froze.
The Marlboro man didn’t have anything on the gentleman standing behind Chet. Even the scowl on his face and the imposing uniform he wore didn’t distract from his rugged beauty. His graying hair still maintained a hint of the chocolate hue he’d sported in his youth, and his tall sturdy frame was enough to make a woman swoon. Marge drew in a sharp breath and was met with a set of kind eyes and a smile. Her heart skipped. The old Marge would have wanted to slink beneath the desk, but the new Marge lifted her chin and returned his smile full on. Without another thought she stuck out a hand.
“I’m Marge Owen, Chester’s aunt. From Philadelphia.”
“Detective Allen Murphy. Do you mind telling me about the undercover farce you don’t want to be a part of?” His handshake was professional and warm, but the way he held her eyes made her heart flip.
Chet tapped a stack of paper on his desk. “I’ll have a full report for you this afternoon, sir.”
“I think I’d like that report now, Officer Bening.”
“Sir. I’m still writing up a witness account, and Gavin Carter has insisted on waiting for his attorney.”
“Why would Mr. Carter need an attorney?” Detective Murphy’s scowl deepened, but if anything it made him more intriguing. Sexier. Marge restrained from fanning herself.
Instead she motioned for the report in Chet’s hands and gave her nephew a tight smile. “Chet brought me out for a week on the ranch so I could gather information for him. Only there’s not any information, except that novel he’s writing there.” Detective Murphy planted his large tanned hands on his hips. “You brought a civilian into an undercover investigation without getting authorization for the use of a civilian or the investigation itself?”
Marge reached for a tablet on the corner of Chet’s desk and waved it in front of her face. With each flick of her wrist the breeze was enough to lift her hair, but did absolutely nothing to cool her down.
“Sir, I…” Chet recovered quickly. “A poor judgment call doesn’t change the facts.”
“A novel is fiction, isn’t it, Ms. Owen?” The detective lifted the report out of Chet’s hands and skimmed through the pages of scribble.
“One big lie after another, with just enough truth sprinkled in to make you believe it,” Marge said.
Detective Murphy laughed. “Ms. Owen, do you mind telling me what this report should say, starting with when you decided to visit our little town?”
“I’d love to. Could I trouble you for a little water first?”
Chapter 13
Rebecca’s mattress dipped beneath Melinda’s weight. “Hey sleepyhead,” Melinda said.
Rebecca sat up and plumped a pillow beneath her throbbing head. “How’re you feeling?” She was determined to focus on something besides the pain that refused to subside.
“I haven’t thrown up this morning,” Melinda said. “So I’ll take that as a good sign.”
Rebecca wiped the sting from her eyes and hugged her sister. “Congratulations. I can’t believe you’re going to be a mom. And I get to be an aunt.”
“I can’t either.” Melinda’s smile spread across her face. “I’m really happy about it now.”
“So I take it Scott’s back again?” At least she finally understood Melinda’s weakness. Not that she would ever accept it for herself, but she understood. No matter how much she wanted to hate Gavin, she couldn’t.
“I know you don’t believe him.” Melinda bit her lip. “And I probably shouldn’t either, but he swears he’s back for good, and no more women. He’s so excited about the baby, he’s already bought clothes and toys and every other word out of his mouth is about what we’re going to name it.”
“I’m happy for you about the baby, and I hope he really has changed. That’s all I’ll say.”
“Fair enough.” Melinda brushed Rebecca’s hair off her face. “You look terrible.”
“Thanks. I feel great.” She rolled her eyes and forced a smile.
“Want to tell me what happened out there?”
“I don’t know where to start.” The tears threatened again, but she held them at bay. She would not let this break her. Losing Todd hadn’t. Losing a man she never really had wouldn’t either.
“Does this mean he really did go to Harvard?” Melinda tugged on the crimson sweatshirt Rebecca was wearing.
“He did.” Rebecca took a steadying breath.
“And I take it you kind of really liked him.”
Rebecca’s chin trembled. Just because what she thought he felt for her was a crock, that didn’t make her feelings for him any less real. She had a heart, and it still worked. At least he had shown her that.
“Oh, Becca.” Melinda wrapped her arms around her. “What a jerk that guy is.”
Rebecca pushed herself back against the headboard. “I won’t die from it. I just need to figure out how to make it stop hurting.”
“I have the perfect remedy,” Melinda said. “Ice cream pancakes.”
“Ice cream for breakfast?”
“Pregnancy gives you the best ideas. Trust me. I’ll have it ready before you’re out of the shower.” She smiled and headed for the door. “And Becca, I really am sorry about what you had to go through with the police. I didn’t know what else to do.”
“I’ll forgive you if make me some coffee.” She probably would have called in the cavalry too if Melinda had lost her mind and run off with some make-believe cowboy then refused to answer her phone.
She lay there another fifteen minutes before she threw the covers off her legs and forced herself out of bed. The aroma of breakfast filled the house. Melinda had the television on and for a second the newscaster sounded like Gavi
n. She winced. It floored her how she could have been so totally and completely wrong about him. Is it that easy to misread someone? Boy did she have a lot to learn.
She pulled her hair into a ponytail and knotted it at the back of her head, just as her door began to open.
“I was just getting in—” Her sentence grinded to a halt.
“Have I told you how good you look in that shirt?” Gavin said from the doorway. He had a bag slung over his shoulder. His eyes were rimmed red, his polo and khakis wrinkled enough to have been slept in. He had never looked better.
Rebecca struggled to find her voice. “Not today.”
He crossed the room and took her in his arms. She cried out, clinging to him, kissing him through her tears. Every bit of her anger dissolved with the feel of his body pressed to hers.
“I’m sorry,” she said.
He responded with a kiss that traveled through her every nerve, then drew back, holding her face in hands. “Don’t apologize. Just tell me who you were making love to.”
“It was you. Only you. You said something he used to say. It rattled me. But I was making love with you. Every second.”
“Am I the one you wanted it to be?” His pain was as obvious as it had been at the ranch. “Don’t spare my feelings. I need the truth.”
Eyes don’t lie. She still believed that. She had to believe that.
“I loved him. I will always love him.” She ran her hands down Gavin’s chest, every curve of his body familiar beneath her touch. “But he’s not here anymore, and when I was with you I was with the man I wanted to be with.”
“Do you still want me?” His arms tightened around her sending an urgent need coursing through her body.
“Did you fly across the country in the middle of the night to ask me that?” Her shattered heart fused itself back together and beat victoriously in her chest.
“Yeah. And I’m really hoping you say yes.”
“Yes,” she said, “And I don’t care how stupid that makes me.”
“You’re not stupid.”
“Come to bed with me.” Her voice was desperate, but she didn’t care about that either. She was even more desperate than she sounded. “And don’t ever leave.”
He dropped his bag on the floor and walked her across the room. The back of her knees hit the edge of the mattress, and he followed her down, his thigh between hers. The weight of his body was so right. His mouth tasted like the only answer to her hunger.
Above her, his breath was ragged, his eyes searched hers. The need she saw in him echoed her own. But there was still one thing that bothered her. One thing she couldn’t just ignore, no matter how much she wanted him.
“I thought you had another guest to entertain today,” she whispered. A tear rolled from the corner of her eye before she could stop it.
“I was supposed to cover for Garrett this week, but I fired myself from that part of the job.” He brought his lips to hers, barely brushing them this time.
“Why would you do that?” She moved her mouth against his unable to hide her smile.
“I realized I’m not very good at it.”
“You’re very…very…good at it,” she told him between kisses.
He balanced his elbow beside her and rested his head in his hand. “I really screwed up this time. I don’t know how to tell you how sorry I am.”
“And you didn’t even bring peas?” She ran her hand down his arm, needing to touch him, to know he was there, he was hers to touch. She looked into his eyes. “Just tell me what parts were real.”
“From the minute I met you, I meant every word,” he said. “I swear.”
She raked her fingers through his hair and covered his mouth with hers. There was nothing else she needed to hear.
He pulled away from her, traced her ear and followed the line of her face, before bringing his finger to her lips. “Have you fallen in love with me yet?”
Her eyes never left his when she answered: “I’m in so deep, I couldn’t stop loving you if I wanted to.” She smiled. “Believe me, I tried.”
She shivered as he ran his fingers along her neck, then brought his lips down in exactly the right spot. She gasped and dug her hands into his back, pulling him to her, wanting nothing more than to connect with him again, to forget everything but the feel of their bodies together.
“You lied to the police,” he said.
She slipped her hands beneath his shirt, warming herself with his heat. “They asked me if we had sex. They didn’t ask if we made love.”
“And you want to do that some more?” His voice was low, vibrating in the tone that drove her crazy.
“Right now,” she said, holding herself as close to him as she could.
“We’ve got forever,” he whispered. “There’s no rush.”
When their mouths met, she closed her eyes and let herself go, and the only person in the world she could think of was Gavin Carter.
Epilogue
“Daddy will you draw a picture of me?”
Gavin laid his pencil down on his desk and lifted his daughter into his arms. She was as beautiful as her mother, the same dark mane of hair and matching eyes.
“You want to help?” he asked.
“I can’t. Uncle Garrett’s gonna let me ride Pilgrim.” She wrapped her arms around his neck for a quick hug, then squirmed to get down. “I’ll look at it when I get back.”
He pressed his lips to her temple and let her jump to the floor. She ran out of the room ponytail flying as the phone rang.
“Fantasy Ranch, Gavin speaking.”
“Yes, Ms. Boucher, we’re looking forward to your visit. We do take requests, although we can’t always accommodate— Which cowboy? That one’s booked. For the rest of his life.”
Rebecca smiled from the doorway. Gavin seated the phone, and held open his arms.
“What are you waiting out there for Mrs. Carter?”
She settled into his lap. “You really need to print new brochures. You’re disappointing guests before they get here.”
“Am I disappointing you?” He nuzzled into the hair above her ear.
“No, but if you don’t come upstairs right now while we have a babysitter you will.”
He ran his hand beneath the hem of her blouse and over her swollen belly. Their child responded to his touch, moving beneath Rebecca’s skin. “We’ve got to get this one out here before we can make another one,” he said.
“I just want to practice.” She kissed his bottom lip with both of hers. “I need a lot of practice.”
His heart hammered in his chest. He still thanked his stars every day she was his. Forever. “You are the sexiest woman in the world.”
“Then why aren’t you upstairs yet?” she asked with a twinkle in her eye.
He stood, and lifted her with him. Rebecca wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him with as much passion as she had the very first time.
“You ever gonna get enough of me?” he breathed.
“Never.”
“That’s exactly what I want to hear,” he said as he carried her into their room and locked the door.
COWBOY GAMES
THE END
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