Chapter Five
Libby was setting up the art center the library provided for the little ones when the doorbell rang the next evening. It was Holden, who, freshly showered and shaved, smelled every bit as good as he looked.
She smiled. “Hey, I didn’t expect to see you tonight.”
He strolled in, took off his leather bomber jacket and hung it on the coat tree next to the door. “Miss Mim assigned me as your volunteer helper for the library hours at your home.”
Tingles rippled through Libby as she gazed up at him. He towered over her and made her feel petite. “Did she do that on her own or…?”
Holden’s eyes twinkled at the corners. “I might have had something to do with it.”
Libby’s breath stalled halfway up her windpipe, reminding her just how long she had been without a man in her life.
“What did she say?”
Holden wrapped his arms around her and brought her flush against him. “She clapped me on the arm and said, ‘Good luck and Godspeed.’”
Libby couldn’t help it—she laughed.
A little levity was what she needed after the day she’d had.
“How are things going at the dealership?” Holden asked, brushing a brief, platonic kiss on her hairline and releasing her.
She went back to prepping for their little guests and parents, setting out coffee, cartons of juice and milk on ice, and cookies. “It was a weird day.”
“How so?” Holden arranged the crayons and paper, and several sets of blocks.
Finished, Libby straightened. “Jeff Johnston was supposed to call me to get more information so his guy could do one evaluation of the property. See if it came up the same as ours. He didn’t.”
Holden kept his eyes on her face. “Hmm.”
“Apparently, he’s still running around, talking to the local ranchers, one-on-one. Trying to get a feel for the customer.”
Holden closed in on her slowly. “That may not be all bad, if Johnston turns out to be a responsive business owner. People might feel a lot better about the sale. Which in turn means less pressure on you, if that is the road you’re deciding to take.”
If. Libby ruminated over Holden’s choice of words. “Does that mean you still hope I won’t sell?”
“I hope you won’t leave Laramie. Not the same thing.”
Did any of that have to do with them kissing on two separate occasions? Libby wondered, as a thrill ran through her.
Or the way the evening ended the night before, with the snow flurries stopping as abruptly as they had started, and them both being a little on edge…?
Not sure whether to feel guilty about any latent disloyalty to Percy, or happy that they both now knew they were capable of moving on.
Physically, anyway…
Holden cleared his throat. “What about the rest of your day?”
“Even stranger. There’s a lot of tension at the dealership. Despite my reassurances that I am looking out for them, people are worried about their jobs.”
“Guess that’s to be expected,” he rationalized.
Libby sighed and shook her head. “We were supposed to get the showroom decorated for Christmas between customers, but with staff suddenly taking a disproportionate amount of ‘personal time’ and the number of local ranchers coming in to chat and see if the rumors about a possible transfer of ownership are true, that didn’t happen, either.”
Holden perched on an arm of the sofa. “I could help you with that.”
She strolled closer, studying him all the while. “Aren’t you pretty busy, too?”
“During the day.” He lifted his broad shoulders in a lazy shrug. “My evenings are free. And since the mini-library is only going to be open from five to seven on Monday, Wednesday and Friday evenings, that leaves tomorrow and Thursday free.”
“You’re sure you wouldn’t mind?” Libby asked appreciatively.
His smile was slow and sexy. “Ply me with more of that delicious soup and I’ll be there promptly at closing.”
Libby flushed at the memory of his lips on hers. “I’ll do better than that, since you’re really going to have to work.”
His eyes twinkled once again. “I think I’ll be up to the task.”
Libby was, too. That was the problem—it was difficult to be around Holden and not fantasize about all the possibilities.
“I KNOW CINDY IS ONLY six weeks old,” the proud young mother told Holden seriously, shortly after the mini-library opened. “But now that she’s looking around, I really think I should start reading to her.”
He smiled. “It’s never too soon to engender a love of reading. Let me show you where the board books are housed.”
While he was busy, another half-dozen mothers came in, all doing their best to guide their excited children through the process of choosing new reading material.
“Honestly,” one particularly harried young mom said, as Libby was checking out the books by hand, “sometimes I don’t know what I was thinking!”
Libby knew the woman was joking about the challenge of having three rambunctious boys, roughly a year apart in age. Still…
“Was that as hard on you as it was on me?” she asked Holden after they had closed down for the night.
He gathered up the stray crayons. “I love kids.”
Libby hunkered down to straighten the stacks. “You know what I mean.”
“Yeah. I do,” he admitted. “And being around newborn babies is particularly hard for me.” His jaw tightened. “It makes me think of the baby Heidi and I lost, when she miscarried.” He turned to Libby, his eyes bleak. “It was a boy, you know.”
She felt his pain like a blow to the solar plexus, and she swallowed. “I didn’t. Oh, Holden.” She went to him and hugged him close. “I’m so sorry.”
Libby had never really comforted Holden at the time. She hadn’t known what to say. Now, having been through her own loss, she did. She swallowed again and drew back. “It’s always going to hurt.”
Grimly, Holden went back to gathering up the stray crayons. Finally, he straightened. “A lot of people tell me it will stop. Maybe not now, but—” he turned his brooding glance to hers “—when I actually do have a child.”
Libby took his hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze. “I think you’ll be happier when you have a child to replace the one you lost. I don’t think you’ll ever stop grieving. I suspect there will always be a place deep inside you that holds the sadness.” She met his gaze. “A part of you that will wonder what if Heidi hadn’t miscarried at five months along, if the baby’s heart defect had been detected…and they would have had more of a chance to do something about it.”
Jaw clenched, Holden nodded.
Libby gave his fingers another squeeze and let go. “Most of the time I don’t think about it. I don’t let myself. But tonight…” She lifted a hand and sighed. “With all those babies and toddlers…”
“I know.” Holden’s gaze turned compassionate. “It was hard on you, too.”
Restless, she began to pace. “It reminds me that I’m thirty-two. Time is passing. I’ve got to get a move on if I want to have a baby of my own. And I do.”
“So do I.”
They looked at each other. She had an inkling what his bright idea might be. Libby flashed a weary smile. “That might be a last resort, Holden. But we’re not anywhere near a last resort.”
He smiled again, with the trademark McCabe mischief. “Just checking…”
Libby pushed aside the desire roaring through her, and forced herself to think rationally. “In the meantime, if you want to opt out of the volunteer assignment here, and help one of the other mini-libraries instead…?”
Holden shook his head. “My family has been after me for months now, pushing me to forge ahead, and they’re right,” he said with his customary determination. “I need to deal with this, Libby. Let it strengthen my resolve to have a family, instead of scaring me away.”
She grinned and clapped him playfully on
the shoulder. “Now you’re talking.”
“So…” He stepped back, all easy charm once again. “About that first date.”
Persistence of this type usually annoyed Libby. But not here, and not now. Unable to help herself, she sent Holden a flirtatious glance. “We keep putting it off, don’t we?”
Those blue eyes twinkled. “No time like the present.”
Libby looked at her watch. They both needed a diversion. And a movie theater was a safe enough venue. “Want to see a nine-o’clock show?” she asked cheerfully.
Holden reached for his coat. “You read my mind.”
THEY STOPPED BY the Dairy Barn and grabbed burgers, fries and peppermint shakes. The place was full of teenagers, so they took their meal over to the park and sat at a picnic table in the shelter. It was hard to believe they’d seen snow flurries the evening before, although none of the precipitation had stuck. But that was Texas in December—thirty-two degrees one day, sixty the next.
He ripped open a packet of ketchup. “I noticed you don’t have a Christmas tree yet. Are you planning on getting one?”
Libby ignored the romantic aura of their impromptu picnic and rummaged through the bag, looking for salt. “I’ve got one being delivered to the dealership for the showroom tomorrow afternoon.” She frowned. “I haven’t decided what to do about my house.”
“What do you usually do?”
Libby’s recent memories were glum. “Last year I passed. It seemed like too much effort to put one up just for me.”
Holden sent her a stern look. “That’s totally unacceptable.”
“Uh-huh.” She regarded him through narrowed lashes. “Do you have one up at your ranch house?”
He wrinkled his nose in chagrin. “Uh…”
“I thought not.” She looked down her nose at him.
“Hey.” He pressed a palm to his chest. “I was going to go and cut one down next weekend.” He favored her with a speculative glance. “You’re welcome to come with me if you want.”
Libby blinked. “To a Christmas tree farm?”
“To my property. I have pine trees on the Bar M.”
She dabbed her mouth with a paper napkin. “That sounds…”
His eyes lit up. “Festive?”
Libby grinned. “Like a lot of work.”
His lips curled in mock exasperation. “I take it, then, you’ve never done it.”
“Wielded an ax on a poor unsuspecting tree?” she responded, deadpan. Enjoying their banter, she sat up straight. “No, I have not.”
“If it will make you feel better, I’ll be sure to do all the chopping and heavy lifting, and I’ll replace any trees we take with seedlings in the spring.”
Libby liked the idea of that, as much as she liked hanging out with him. “You’d do that for me?”
Holden toasted her with his peppermint milk shake. “In exchange for some home-baked Christmas cookies? I sure would.”
“WELL, I DIDN’T FORESEE that ending,” Holden murmured later as he walked her to her front door. “A romantic comedy where the guy doesn’t get the girl?”
Libby lingered beneath her porch light. She knew it was silly, but she’d had such a good time she didn’t want the evening to end. She thrust her hands in the pockets of her red down jacket. “Kind of defeats the purpose of the movie, doesn’t it? In my fantasies, I want everything to work out perfectly.”
Holden’s lips took on a rueful curve. He thrust his hands in his pockets, too. “I know what you mean. There’s comfort in thinking that at least somewhere, some couple is deliriously happy.”
Libby’s mood turned wistful. “Even if they’re only a fictional couple?”
“Hey.” He lifted his hands amiably. “Got to take what we can get, in this life.”
“How well I know that,” she murmured.
They continued staring at each other.
Libby ignored what she knew was prudent and took reckless action instead. She angled her chin. “Want to come in?”
His wide shoulders relaxed. “Maybe for a minute.”
She unlocked the door and decided to make this an actual practice run, thereby giving it parameters and a purpose. “I feel as awkward as I would on a first date.”
“Same here.”
Silence fell. Their smiles widened and the butterflies inside her grew. Tingling with anticipation, Libby drew breath.
Holden’s jaw tautened. He took her hand, suddenly reserved. “Maybe we should just say good-night,” he suggested quietly.
Giving her no chance to protest, he drew her into his arms.
Libby knew he meant the kiss to be sweet—and short. She could tell by the first, closemouthed press of his lips to hers.
She also knew that wasn’t going to be enough. She wanted to feel connected to him. It didn’t matter that she was too caught up in the moment to think rationally. Or that taking their relationship to another level would be incredibly risky. He was so big and strong and undeniably male. It had been a long time since she had felt so beautiful and so wanted. And the kiss that had started so innocently quickly turned passionate.
Ever the gentleman, Holden started to put on the brakes and break it off.
Frustrated, Libby drew him back. “Don’t go.”
His hands settled on her shoulders and gripped hard. His expression was shadowed with a mixture of self-discipline and regret. “You’ll hate me in the morning if I stay,” he murmured grimly. “Maybe even sooner.”
Libby shook her head, scarcely able to believe that what had happened before was happening again. “No, Holden. I won’t,” she said desperately.
Briefly, emotion flashed in his eyes, but it was gone before Libby could decipher it. “If I could believe that…” he said, all traces of the ardent suitor disappearing as swiftly as they had appeared.
“For once, I just want to do what I want,” Libby confessed, wanting—needing—him to see where she was coming from. “And what I want right now, Holden, is to make love with you.”
Chapter Six
It was impossible, Holden thought, to be around Libby and not want to take her in his arms and move heaven and earth to protect her. And if this was what she needed to get through the holidays…
Tightening his grip on her, he hauled her against him and angled his head over hers. And then they were kissing in a way that felt incredibly right, in a way that demonstrated they had a lot more love and life in them than either of them had previously thought. He knew they’d be fools to throw chemistry like this away if it provided the catalyst they both needed to jump-start their personal lives.
And yet Holden knew he couldn’t let things get too far out of control. He would kiss her and hold her for a few minutes and then that would be it.
But the more their mouths meshed, the more his gentlemanly intentions went by the wayside. His hands seemed to have a life of their own, and she didn’t mind one bit as he found her soft curves.
Had they not lost their balance as she tried to lead him, still kissing, toward the stairs, who knew what would have happened?
But they did stumble, bumping into one of the framed photographs.
Libby managed to catch it before it crashed to the floor.
As she stood holding it in her hands, they both looked down and saw Percy’s image staring up at them.
Libby drew in a sharp breath. Guilt and uncertainty flashed in her eyes, and Holden felt a sharp stab of disloyalty, too.
Her shoulder slumped. “I guess I’m not as ready to move on as I thought,” she admitted with a sigh.
Was he? Holden wondered.
Especially if it meant betraying his late best friend?
Seeming to read his mind, Libby carefully put the photo on the foyer table. Her chin held high, she turned and took Holden’s hand.
She wore the same look she had on her face whenever she spoke about selling the dealership and moving on with her life.
“But I’m also not willing to call a halt entirely.” She paused and look
ed deep into his eyes. “I want to see you again.” She squared her slender shoulders. “Tomorrow night okay?”
She really had changed, Holden realized in surprise. Gone were the traces of the ultra-accommodating woman his best friend had failed to appreciate.
Mesmerized by the strength of character he saw in her eyes, he curtailed his own fast-threatening-to-get-out-of-control desire, and murmured teasingly, “You sure you want to see me again so soon?” What they were feeling was already pretty intense.
“We entered into this so we can practice being part of a couple again. The point is…” Libby paused and drew a bolstering breath. “Dating after such a long drought is not going to be easy, Holden. We both knew that going into this. There are going to be glitches and missteps. Plus horrible feelings of guilt, probably. And kissing is bound to be awkward, too. So…who better to share it with than each other?”
Was she really thinking they could limit this to kisses? He was still aroused.
Quirking his lips, he retorted, “Gosh, Libby, when you put it that way…”
Completely recovered, she leaned toward him, the only clue that she’d been at all affected by their embrace being the faint imprint of her nipples against her sweater. “I’m serious, Holden. I really do want to try this again. We had a lot of fun up to now.”
She had a point, he realized.
He smiled, thinking how good it had felt to share a picnic with her in the park and sit side by side in the movie theater, sharing a bucket of popcorn and some Junior Mints candy. “We did at that.”
Libby perked up. “So we’ll see each other again tomorrow night?”
Her enthusiasm was contagious. “I’ll pick you up at seven-thirty.”
She tilted her head, curious. “Where are we going to go?”
Nowhere, Holden thought sagely, anywhere near a bed.
HOLDEN ENTERED the Bar M stable just as Kurt finished examining the gestating Lady. Holden nodded at the beautiful silver mare with white feet and a dark gray mane, then turned to his cousin. “How is she doing?”
Kurt stepped out of the foaling box, vet bag in hand. “Great. Although we got the results of the blood tests back, and the results are just as you suspected they’d be. The antibodies are up significantly.”
A Cowboy to Marry Page 6
