Forever Dreams (Montana Brides) (25 page)

He held onto her hips, lifting her off his lap and onto her back. He wrestled her panties down her legs, jerked as her hands found the waistband of his boxers.
 

Gracie slid her hands under the satin, squeezing and stroking until his breathing turned hot and labored. Wiggling down in the bed, she followed her hands with her lips, smiling at the low growl vibrating in Trent’s throat.

He hauled her up his body. Grabbing a condom, he growled into her ear, “Now, Gracie. I need you, honey.”

He moved above her and she locked her legs around his waist, eager for their joining. He teased her until they were both hot and slick with sweat. Using the heels of her feet, she pulled him deep, hard, and fast into her body. Wave after wave of sensation washed through her body.
 

Trent moaned her name into the pillow as his body shattered above her, leaving them both gasping for air.
 

Gracie wrapped her arms around him and wiggled her hips. “Are you still alive, cowboy?”

“I don’t know,” Trent groaned. “But if you keep doing that you’ll find out pretty soon.” He rolled onto his side, pulling her with him.
 

“I think I have a problem setting boundaries.”

Trent reached for her hand, kissing her knuckles. “Honey, as long as those boundaries sit tight around the two of us, you won’t hear any complaints from me.”

“That’s twice we’ve made love. Twice in one week.”

“If you’re complaining, I’m quite happy to make it three.”

She closed her eyes and realized she’d have to do some serious reconsidering about her future plans. Gracie McKenzie loved her husband, and she wasn’t quite sure what to do about it.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Trent wound down the window of his pickup, wishing he was heading anywhere except into downtown Bozeman. He felt like a fool. Or maybe an idiot. Probably both.
 

He didn’t know what had changed Gracie’s mind about the no touching clause in their marriage, but he sure liked it. And it confused the hell out of him. Ever since the Sweet Pea Ball she’d been happy to indulge his addiction to her body. He’d been worried at how easily they’d slipped into the role of husband and wife. After six weeks of living together, he figured they should be having disagreements; squabbling over what TV channel to watch, whose turn it was to load the dishwasher, or who’d left the toilet seat up for the hundredth time. But that hadn’t happened.
 

He even thought Gracie might have had revenge on her mind for their less than honest wedding ceremony. But that didn’t seem to be happening either. They’d fallen into a simple pattern that he looked forward to each day. And each night they’d fallen into other patterns that distracted his mind and turned his body into a quivering wreck. When he made love with Gracie he felt like he’d run three marathons in a row and still had enough energy left to conquer the world.
 

Now he had to organize their divorce. He’d made a promise to Gracie and whether he wanted to be here or not wasn’t important. He’d make damned sure he didn’t mess up his last chance to show her that he did have some scruples running around his half-baked brain.
 

Parking in front of Osborne and Sons, he stared at the big concrete letters plastered over the entrance. The red brick building owed a lot of its architecture to the traditional values of the founding families of Bozeman. Solid. Dependable. Safe. Everything he wasn’t. He felt like a man staring down the barrel of a gun instead of someone sorting the God awful mess out that he’d created.
 

Pulling himself out of his truck, Trent jammed his hat on his head. He needed to get this over with otherwise he’d never made it through the front door.

“Can I help you?”

Trent stared at the woman behind the reception desk. With a smattering of freckles sprinkled across her nose, she looked as though she should have been in school and not reigning supreme in a lawyer’s office. She’d twisted her dark hair into some kind of knot. Bits of it stuck out all over the place, like a sparrow had been nesting and lost track of what he’d been doing.
 

She patted her head. “Still not right, huh? I’m trying for the sophisticated executive look, except my dog ran away with my clips. They’re probably buried halfway to China by now.”

Trent didn’t know what he should say, so he took off his hat and waited.

She stood up and reached over the counter. “Annie O’Leary, fill-in receptionist and part-time baker.”

He squinted at the grinning woman. “Trent McKenzie, ma’am. I’ve seen you before. You work at Angel Wings Café with Tess.”

“That’s me. I’m helping out here while Mrs. Daniels is on holiday. Who did you come to see?”

“Adam. Is there more than one lawyer now?”

Annie shook her head. “Only Adam, but there’s a chiropractor along the corridor and the Montana Chamber of Commerce are upstairs.” She looked down at her computer and smiled. “You’re on time. Go down the hall and take the second door on the left.”

Trent nodded and trudged along the brown carpet. He’d walked down the same corridor for the same reason, fifteen years ago. Last time he didn’t have a choice. This time he wanted to turn tail and run. He flicked his knuckles against a wooden door and walked inside the room.

Adam looked up from an inch thick block of paper lying in front of him. “Perfect timing. You’ve saved me from drowning in deposition hearings.”

“Don’t get too carried away. You’re not going to like what I’ve got to say.”

Adam dropped his pen and sat back in his chair. “Sounds serious. Have a seat.”

Trent couldn’t have sat still if his life depended on it. So he paced. Backward and forward until he felt dizzy.“I’ve come to get a divorce.”

“A what?”

“You heard me. Gracie and I want to get divorced.”

“But you’ve only been married for a couple of weeks.”
 

“I know. What do I need to do?”

“You need to go home and sort out whatever trouble you’ve gotten yourself into.”

Trent stood still long enough to glare at his friend. It didn’t do much good. Adam stared straight back. “Is this your legal opinion or something you spout off to every idiot who walks through your door.”

“I don’t see many idiots who want a divorce after two weeks of marriage. What’s going on?”

“Nothing.”

“Well that much is obvious. You didn’t mention anything about a divorce at the barbecue last Friday, so what’s happened?”

“It’s a long story,” Trent muttered.

Adam stood up and grabbed his jacket off the back of his chair.

“Where are you going?”

“I need fresh air and a coffee. We’re heading across the road before I’m tempted to boot you out the door on your backside.”

“What about my divorce?”

“It’s called a Petition for Dissolution of Marriage. And you really don’t want to go there until I’ve had my morning dose of caffeine.”
 

When Adam got to the reception area he leaned over the counter and clicked something on the computer. “We’re heading to the café, Annie. I’ll be back in half an hour.”

“Choose the blueberry muffins. I made them this morning.”

Adam pulled on his jacket. “If you used a computer half as well as you cook, I’d give you a permanent job here.”

“You’ll have to settle for seeing a little less of me then, won’t you?”
 

“Come on, Trent. We’d better get out of here before Annie realizes she’s better off with Tess and packs her bags for good.”

Trent followed Adam onto the street. He didn’t care about Annie, Tess or any damn flavored muffins. He needed a divorce and the one person that could help him was more worried about his stomach. Trent stumbled as Adam grabbed his arm.

“You’ll end up in an ambulance if you don’t pay attention.”
 

A car sped past them, its horn cutting through the fog in Trent’s brain. At least he wouldn’t have to worry about getting a divorce if he was six feet under.

Adam opened the café door, hauling Trent in by the arm. “Two coffees as thick and black as you can make them, Tess, and three of those blueberry muffins.”

“One to go?” she asked.

“You know me too well.”

“I know Annie and her sweet tooth better.” Tess pulled the muffins out of the cabinet. “You’d better put that smile away, Adam Jefferies, or you’ll leave a hole in my heart.”

Trent cleared his throat. A man in crisis didn’t want to hear flirty talk, especially if one the flirtees was supposed to be his friend. He stared around the café, wondering how the hell a sane man could have dug himself into such a mess. At least he could make himself useful and find a table while Romeo worked his magic.
 

“Yoo-hoo, Trent. Over here.” A white handkerchief waved in the air. Doris and Jessie sat at a table overlooking Main Street. He ignored their expectant faces and headed across to a table on the other side of the room.

“Over here you two,” shouted Jessie. The conversation in the café dipped to nothing.

Trent dragged his feet toward their table. “Morning, ma’am.”

Doris picked up her patchwork handbag. “We were just about to leave, wasn’t that right, Jessie.”

Jessie nodded. Her hands were busy stacking empty plates in the center of the table. “Gracie and your mom went past about fifteen minutes ago with a box of chalk in their hands. I’d say they’re about to add their doodling to the sidewalk.”

“And there’ll be no space left for us if you keep talking,” Doris grumbled.

Adam stood behind Trent. The smell of rich coffee sank into his bones. He needed a mug of that caffeine real bad.

“You’re such a worry-wart, Doris.” Jessie folded a paper napkin in half and added it to the dirty dishes on the table. She glanced across at Trent. “Is everything alright? You look a bit under the weather.”

“I’m fine.”

“It doesn’t look that way to me, young man.” Jessie frowned as she spotted Doris halfway through the door. “I haven’t got time to talk. When you see Gracie and your mom say hi from me..” She shot away from the table, disappearing with Doris into the crowd of people enjoying the summer sunshine.

Adam put their coffee on the table. “Do you think it’s safe to sit down?”
 

“You’d better check for hidden wires. They didn’t put up enough of a fight to find out why we’re here.” Trent left his hat on the chair beside him. He sat with his back to the window just in case Doris came back and used her lip-reading abilities to see what was going on.
 

“Here you go. Two blueberry muffins with an extra one bagged for Annie. If you need anything else just let me know.” Tess left the muffins on the table and walked back to the counter, already smiling at the next customer waiting to be served.

Adam took a long sip of his coffee. “Doris and Jessie aren’t the only ones wanting to hear your sordid tale. You can start from the beginning while I’m eating.”
 

Trent watched most of Adam’s muffin disappear in a couple of mouthfuls. He leaned forward, just in case someone else had an interest in what was happening on the Triple L. “Gracie wasn’t exactly stone cold sober when we got married. The next day she wasn’t too pleased that we’d tied the knot.”

Adam coughed into his fist. “Really?”

“I’m glad you’re taking my problem seriously.” Trent slouched in his seat, glaring across the table.
 

“Don’t I always?” Adam polished off the rest of the muffin and wiped his hands on a napkin. “So why did you wait two weeks before coming to see me?”

“We…umm.” Trent took a deep breath. “Gracie wants to find her father and I want a wife. I thought if I could convince her to stay married to me until she finds her father, she might decide she likes me enough to stay.”

“And?”

“I’ve found her father.”

“She must be happy.”

Trent swallowed some coffee. “She doesn’t know.”

Adam sat forward. “Are you going to tell her?”

“Of course I’m going to tell her. Eventually. But she’s going to be upset.” Upset didn’t even come close to how she’d take the news. “I’ve known for a few weeks.”

“Holy hell. So let me get this straight. You fell in love with her, got married, found her father, don’t want her to leave, but you want a divorce?”
 

“Sort of. The love thing got a bit jumbled along the way.” Trent watched Tess take a couple of coffees across to the people sitting at the next table. “The day after we got married I promised Gracie I’d organize our divorce. So I’m here, only I don’t want a divorce. But as soon as I tell her about her father she’ll be gone anyway.”

“You don’t believe in keeping your life simple, do you?”
 

Trent picked up his muffin and took a bite. At least that way he could concentrate on something that didn’t involve a five-foot-one redhead.

“I can start the paperwork rolling, but Gracie needs her own lawyer.” Adam looked up as someone else came into the café. “We’ll need to negotiate the property settlement.”

“The what?” Trent’s hand connected with his coffee, spilling half a cup over the table. He grabbed a handful of napkins, soaking up the black liquid before it hit the floor.

“Property, Trent. Just little things like the ranch and whatever else you own.”

“But we’ve only been married for a couple of weeks.”

“It makes no difference. You don’t get special treatment for acting like a fool.”

Trent dropped a handful of soggy napkins onto his plate. “How long will it take?”

“Once I’ve filed the paperwork you should be a free man in about five weeks. Are you sure Gracie wants a divorce?”

“When she finds out how long I’ve known about her father she won’t want to talk to me, let alone stay married to me.” Trent stared out the window. Every day he spent with Gracie left him even more confused. She’d wound her way into his heart, buried herself inside him so damn fast that he didn’t know when he’d started falling in love with her. And he wanted her to stay with him. Live on the ranch and be part of his life forever. Only forever wouldn’t last any longer than a few more weeks.