Cowboy After Dark (11 page)

“I know.” All her hesitation was gone, and her eyes sparkled with excitement.

“And you like knowing that, don’t you?”

“Yes. It makes me feel powerful.”

“Good, because you are.” He’d be happy to let her demonstrate her power often in the next few days. Talk about win-win.

“We can’t really go off into the woods now, though.”

“Not this time. But let’s keep it in mind for the future.”

“Believe me, I will. Okay, one more kiss for the road.” She traced his lower lip. “You still haven’t told me how you got that scar.”

“A woman bit me.” Capturing her mouth again, he kissed her with passion, but also with the tenderness she deserved from any man privileged to hold her. She’d granted him that privilege for the next week. He’d thought that would give him plenty of time to break through the walls she’d built. Maybe not.

11

H
OPE
DIDN
’
T
HAVE
another moment alone with Liam for the rest of the day, and she decided that might be for the best. Her emotions were all over the place and she needed time to regroup. She sincerely wished the subject of Tom hadn’t been raised, but she also realized Liam deserved to know why she’d demanded a deadline for their relationship.

She’d heard confession was good for the soul, but hers felt battered and bruised after bringing that awful episode out of the mental closet where she’d stashed it. He’d said she wasn’t over it, and she hated discovering he was right. Life had been so much easier during months of self-induced amnesia.

While talking about Tom with Liam, she’d struggled to stay in control of her negative emotions. His hot kisses had helped enormously, but she couldn’t indulge in that distraction when there was work to be done. Fortunately the bustle of preparations for the rehearsal and the rehearsal dinner provided protection. She cooked, cleaned and helped set up without anyone noticing that she wasn’t particularly chatty.

All the focus was on the wedding, thank goodness. The debate over arbor/no arbor had continued through lunch until Herb had finally mentioned that besides potentially blowing over, the problematic structure would obscure the view of the cabin.

Finn had to leave to pick up Chelsea at the airport, and everyone else, including Hope, pitched in to decorate the front of the cabin. They made a wildflower wreath for the door and covered the windowsills with greenery and wild berries. Damon climbed up on the roof and attached more greenery along the roofline. The cabin took on the look of a fairy dwelling.

By the time they declared it complete, Finn had returned with Chelsea. She was a bundle of energy with turquoise streaks in her blond hair. As everyone crowded around for hugs, Phil made sure to introduce Hope.

You’ll like her
,
Phil had said earlier, and Hope could see why. A year ago Chelsea would have been exactly the kind of person Hope gravitated to. Not anymore. Being friendly but maintaining a low profile was the name of the game. She wasn’t about to get chummy with that fascinating woman and risk saying something unintentionally revealing. Chelsea was a member of the creative tribe Hope had resigned from.

If Hope had still been writing, Chelsea would have made an interesting and stimulating friend, much as Phil, Debbie and Joan had been. She’d kept seeing all three during her college years until Tom’s paranoia had turned girls’ nights out into exhausting efforts not to let a writing secret slip. Later she’d been too embarrassed to contact them and admit what had happened. What she’d allowed to happen.

The habit of keeping secrets was hard to break, though. She was still doing it with everyone except for Liam. He glanced her way whenever they happened to be in the same area helping with preparations. Each time, he looked a little worried, but then his expression would shift and he’d give her a warm smile.

Their supposedly carefree fling wasn’t so carefree now, was it? The idea had seemed doable at first. Other couples managed it, so why couldn’t they? Belatedly she’d figured out that a no-strings affair might sound good in theory. In practice it wasn’t all that easy to pull off with living, breathing people who had feelings.

And oh, boy, did she have feelings. Thanks to Liam, she realized how much she’d been muting them. No, she couldn’t blame it all on him, either. The wedding was part of the problem. She’d been having some trouble managing her feelings during the bachelorette party, which was why she’d escaped to the porch.

Her muddled state of mind that afternoon could explain why she’d overreacted to his truck speeding up Phil’s driveway. The combination of a wedding and Liam had jerked her out of a soft-focus, pastel view of life into a world of intense color and excitement.

She couldn’t say she was sorry. She loved the sex. But she wasn’t so crazy about the other emotions coming at her. Putting a time limit on this affair had been smart.

Eventually the preparations wrapped up as the designated hour for the rehearsal approached. Showers were taken and clothes were changed. Hope had brought an off-the-shoulder blouse and a flowing skirt for this special night. Knowing this was likely what she’d be wearing when she met Liam in their cabin hideaway, she dressed with extra care. She would have loved to put on the high-heeled sandals that matched the outfit, but flats made more sense for tromping through soft dirt and grass.

She’d save the sexy shoes for next week when she was staying at Damon and Phil’s cabin. Maybe once the wedding was over and she wasn’t viewing a happily-ever-after in the making, she might be able to recapture the spirit of a fantasy fling. Per Liam’s promise, they wouldn’t be discussing Tom again.

While she regretted having told Liam everything, because it had changed the dynamic, she also felt closer to him than to anyone else in the wedding party. They shared a secret. She recognized now that shared secrets could be dangerous, but nothing about Liam felt that way. Rosie had echoed her feelings the night before when she’d said,
I wasn’t worried. You were with Liam.

Hope walked down to the meadow with Rosie, Herb and the minister from Sheridan who had driven out for the rehearsal. Hope was charmed to discover that the minister Phil and Damon had chosen with some help from Rosie was a woman. To the casual observer, Rosie might appear to be a traditional wife and mother, but she was obviously ready to challenge stereotypes at every opportunity.

Once in the meadow, Hope left Rosie and Herb to do their thing, and she took a chair under the tent in the second row on the bride’s side. The tent was big enough for only two small sections of folding chairs. Artificial turf had been laid down as an aisle runner, and a larger piece had been placed in front of the cabin, where the ceremony would be held.

The summer day had stayed pleasantly cool, and she could smell wood smoke from the nearby fire pit, where the rehearsal barbecue would take place. Liam and Grady had started the fire an hour ago and had covered it with a large wire screen to contain any flying sparks as the logs were reduced to embers perfect for grilling.

Everyone with a role in the wedding was in attendance except Finn. Damon had chosen Cade, Finn and Herb as co–best men. Phil had asked Rosie, Edie and Lexi to share the “of honor”
category. Edie and Rosie were matrons of honor and Lexi was maid of honor. Phil’s father, Karl, a balding guy who had a perpetual grin on his face, would walk her down the aisle. He’d arrived from Cheyenne two hours ago.

Hope kept watching the cabin next to the decorated one. That was where Liam and Grady were staying, but neither of them had come out yet. Working with the fire must have made them late getting cleaned up. She’d deliberately chosen a seat with a vacant chair on either side so when they did arrive, Liam could sit next to her.

Then she was distracted by Cade making a megaphone of his hands. “Hey, O’Roarke!” he called. “You’re holding up the show!”

She turned around in her chair and looked across to the cabin where Finn and Chelsea were staying. It was the first one ever built and the one Finn, Damon and Cade had shared when they’d lived at the ranch. Chelsea and Finn stood on the cement stoop, having a discussion.

Chelsea’s dress was stunning and sexy—midthigh length and made of a shimmering material that contained every color in the rainbow, including a turquoise shade to match her hair. But her shoes were the real attention grabber—turquoise stilettos. Hope wondered how Chelsea would navigate the meadow.

She didn’t have to. Suddenly Finn scooped her up in his arms. Amid whoops and hollers from Cade and Damon, he carried her across the grassy area and set her on the artificial turf. She gave him a quick kiss before walking carefully down the aisle toward Hope.

“I could’ve made it,” she said as she sat down. “I told him that, but he was determined to show off his manly muscles.”

Hope laughed. “It was a fun show. Now I wish I hadn’t been so chicken about wearing my heels. You look fabulous.”

“You, too! With that outfit, you should wear a flower in your hair. It’s a very romantic look.”

“I haven’t worn flowers in my hair since college.” Since before she’d met Tom. She used to do fanciful things like that, she realized, and gradually she’d stopped. He’d been a master at stifling those silly impulses with an eye roll or an almost imperceptible shake of his head.

“There’s a clump of yellow daisies growing right over there.” Chelsea pointed to a spot just beyond the tent. “Go pick one.”

“I don’t need to—”

“Come on. If you don’t, I will.”

“Oh, no, we can’t have that. You’d cancel out Finn’s noble gesture.”

“Then you go. That outfit just cries for a pretty yellow daisy in your hair. Look, there’s a daisy pattern in the material of your skirt! I just saw that. Now you have to do it.”

“Okay.” Smiling, Hope left her seat and walked over to the patch of daisies. Picking one reminded her of childhood summers spent lying in the grass, scribbling in a notebook, making up stories. She brought the flower back and handed it to Chelsea. “I don’t have a mirror.”

“I can do it. Hold still.” Chelsea tucked it gently behind Hope’s ear. Then she leaned back with an approving smile. “Perfect.”

“It doesn’t look silly?”

“No. It looks artistic. Are you, by the way? Phil said you were friends in high school, but that’s all I know.”

“I’m not artistic, but I’m sure you are! Marketing must be a fun job.” A good offense was the best defense.

“I love it. Something new going on every day. I have to stay on my toes, which is how I function best. You’re working in Cody, right? For one of the hotels?”

“I am. Good company. Terrific opportunities for advancement.”

“Sounds as if you love your job, too. What’s the best part?”

“Having people come back from their excursions bubbling over with enthusiasm. That’s a great feeling.” She wondered if her nose would start to grow. Sure, she enjoyed helping people have a good holiday experience, and it was gratifying when they were pleased with the trips she’d set up or the restaurants she recommended.

Bottom line—she liked her job, but she didn’t love it. She could leave it without a backward glance. She’d never admitted that to herself until now. This wedding and Liam were making her question everything about her new and quite orderly life.

And at last, here came that gorgeous man who was so wonderful and so worrying at the same time. He wore snug jeans, polished boots, a white shirt open at the collar and a black Stetson. Sharp. Sexy. Grady looked pretty good, too, but she barely noticed. She couldn’t see anyone but the man with the piercing blue eyes.

He took the chair on Hope’s left, and Grady settled down next to Chelsea. After everyone said hi, Grady and Chelsea picked up the discussion they’d been having this afternoon about marketing his sculptures in Seattle.

Liam smiled at Hope. “How’d you know I’m a sucker for a woman with a flower in her hair?”

“I didn’t. The flower is all Chelsea’s fault. She insisted I needed one.” The scent of his aftershave enveloped her, reminding her of lying in his arms on a blanket under the stars. Last night had been filled with nothing but mutual attraction. She longed to return to that simpler time.

“I don’t know that you
need
one. You’re beautiful without it.”

“Pretty words.” But they made her heart race.

“Pretty lady.” He reached over and ran his forefinger around the flower’s petals. “You don’t need this to look great, but I love what it says.”

“I picked a talking flower? What are the chances?”

He grinned. “I know. I haven’t seen a talking flower in a long time but you definitely have one right there. It just whispered to me that only very sexy women go around putting flowers in their hair.”

“You can’t believe everything you hear from a daisy.”

“I believe this one.”

Next to her, Grady and Chelsea chattered away about gallery possibilities and shipping options, which left her with the perfect opportunity to talk with Liam. She gazed at him, a man she’d had sex with the night before, a man to whom she’d revealed her darkest secrets only hours ago.

When they were truly alone, they seemed to have plenty to talk about. Or if they weren’t talking, they were kissing, or...best not to think about that now. She couldn’t think of anything to say. Under the circumstances, small talk seemed dumb.

He regarded her with amusement, as if he understood her dilemma and shared it. “Think it’ll rain?”

“Hope not.” And there they were, stuck talking about the weather. If they’d been strangers, she’d have asked him about his job the way Chelsea had asked about hers. “What’s your favorite thing about taking people out on a rafting trip?”

She’d obviously startled him with an out-of-the-blue question. But after a moment, he came up with an answer. “It strips away the nonessentials.”

“Like what?”

“They show up with the gear we require, but it’s the baggage you can’t see that weighs them down. They begin the trip thinking about whether stocks or bonds are a better deal. They’re having an internal debate about whether to sell their house or remodel it. They’re wrapped up in the current political drama or the prospects of their favorite team. Then they get out on the water, and none of it matters. They’re living in the moment, maybe for the first time in their lives.”

She stared at him in astonishment. “That’s a great answer.”

“It’s a great question.”

“I was only trying to—”

“Fill an awkward silence. I know. But when you’re creative, when you’re curious about people and what makes them tick, you naturally come up with stuff. Like I said—awesome question.”

“That’s ridiculous. Anyone could have thought to ask you that.”

He held her gaze. “No, Hope, they couldn’t, and they don’t. Nobody’s ever come up with that question. Grady might if he didn’t already know the answer. We’ve spent hours talking about why we love what we do.”

“What does he love about metal sculpture?” The question was instinctive, but the minute she’d asked it, she wished she hadn’t.