Rocky Mountain Desire: Six Pack Ranch, Book 3 (26 page)

She didn’t make a lot of sense in the first couple messages, but by the third, her intent was clear enough.

“You might want to ignore me, but it’s for your own good. There’s something funny going on. I was headed to work and happened to notice there’s a strange truck parked outside Hope’s place. She’s off work today, isn’t she?”

It was enough. Matt clicked erase, then turned the phone off altogether. Helen continued to amaze him. As if he’d believe anything she had to tell him, especially about her sister.

Pulling into the Stitching Post parking lot and seeing Clay’s truck there—the shot of anger that arrived was infuriating, but more at himself for continuing to have such a strong reaction to the ass. He didn’t doubt Hope, but there had better be a damn good reason for Clay to come sniffing around where he knew he wasn’t welcome.

Matt bounded up the steps at full speed, surprised to have the door swing open without using his key. Even more shocked to round the corner to find Clay sprawled on the couch, one hand rising toward Matt as if in surrender.

“Whatever you heard, it’s not what you think.”

The full-fledged pissed-off response that flashed anytime Clay was around was tempered by the guy’s instant submissive stance. He didn’t bluster like usual. Instead, he kinda folded himself up and guarded his torso.

Hope rose from where she’d been sitting, pretty much as far away from Clay as she could possibly get and still be in the same room. “Matt. Clay found me a car.”

She sputtered to a halt.

Clay and Matt exchanged glances.
What the hell?

She shook her head and growled. “Ahhh, dammit, now she’s making my brain crazy. Matt, Clay is here because not only did he potentially find me a car to replace Goliath the monster truck, my sister has continued her Wicked Witch of the West imitation. Clay didn’t do anything wrong.”

Her insistence made no sense. “I didn’t say he did.”

Hope opened and shut her mouth a few time. “Right.”

“Helen called and pretended to be Hope.” Clay leaned forward and grimaced, shifting his hips uncomfortably. Matt stared for a second, trying to figure out exactly why that move looked so familiar.

“Helen called you?”

Clay nodded. “I usually have call display, but I just switched servers and haven’t set up the new system. She left a voice mail—said I should come over and she’d make sure I felt a lot more welcome than the last time we’d gotten together.”

The urge to chuck Clay’s carcass out of the apartment was tempered by rising confusion. Even though this situation was fucked up, why hadn’t Hope come and greeted him yet?

“I see. So, now you know she isn’t interested.” Matt turned to Hope. “You get the details about the car? So you can call and look into it?”

Hope nodded, still hesitating on the far side of the room.

Fucking hell.

Matt looked down at Clay. “Thanks for the tip. We’ll deal with Helen. If you don’t mind keeping this quiet for a bit? I’m not sure what we’re going to do, but until we decide, we’d appreciate you not spilling the beans all around town.”

Clay levered himself vertical, hips remaining lopsided as he took a couple staggering steps then caught his balance. “No problem. Like I told Hope, not the sort of thing I’d go boasting about. I’d prefer to win attention raising money for the charity. Speaking of which, you Colemans working on your entry for the raffle or did you give up?”

The damn quilt. Matt had hoped everyone would forget his impulsive signup for the auction. Travis and Blake had both given him so much grief when he’d mentioned it, he’d avoided the topic ever since. “No worries. You guys—?”

“Nearly done.” Clay limped across the room and pulled his jacket on. “Hell, we might be the first ones finished, right, Hope?”

She nodded wordlessly.

“Hey, Hope? I really am sorry.” Clay turned on his heel and left, tugging the door shut behind him.

Hope remained on the far side of the room. Matt checked her over carefully. She looked damned uncomfortable, and he still couldn’t figure out why. “You okay?”

Words burst from her. “I canned him.”

“What?”

“Clay. That’s why he’s limping.” She dragged both hands through her hair, turning the long strands into a riotous mess. “My God, Matt, Helen seems to be doing everything she can to tear my life apart. There’s this mess with Clay, plus she’s bothering the bank and my landlord. She’s been sending me emails through the shop’s website contact button. I’m pretty sure it’s her—stuff about suing me for poor quality products and stupid things that are just not possible.”

Matt hadn’t heard much after her first words. “You did what to Clay?”

She paused. “Kneed him in the nuts.”

It was a good thing Clay was already gone. “And what was the bastard doing that got you close enough to his nuts to have to knee them?”

All the colour in her face drained away. “I’m sorry.”

Matt tore across the room and caught her before she could escape down the hallway. “I’m not accusing you of anything. Why are you so damn spooked? The only person I’m fucking upset with is Clay because he should have known better than to give you a reason to bust his nuts. Even if Helen was yanking him around.”

Hope burst into tears, burying her face against his neck.

Matt closed his eyes and breathed deeply through his nose, fighting for control, for balance to deal with this hellhole of a situation. It was nothing—a simple misunderstanding—and yet it was everything. It was a pain in the ass that shouldn’t have happened in the first place.

“Hope. First, answer me. Are you okay physically?”

The response came out sniffly and muffled against his chest. “I’m fine. He didn’t hurt me. I was scared, but instinct kicked in.”

Another jolt of anger hit. Maybe he’d pay a visit to
Thompson and Sons
and make sure that Clay’s balls were out of commission for a good long time.

She gasped for a second then pulled away, wiping her eyes. “Sorry for being so silly.”

He wasn’t done with her. “Your instincts to get out of a man’s reach shouldn’t have been triggered. Tell me what happened.”

She went into her explanation, her hands moving rapidly, her chin lifting and her face becoming more expressive the longer she spoke. He led her to the couch and sat beside her, one hand on her leg as she faded off at the end.

“So what do we do? What do I do? My God, it’s as if Helen’s turned into some crazy woman, and not a good crazy cat lady like I joked about becoming. She swings hot then cold—it’s as if she’s not all there.”

Matt leaned back and tucked Hope under his arm. She snuggled in closer, slowly sneaking her hand behind his body. Tentative, careful, as if she wasn’t sure how he would react.

It drove him crazy himself to see her so timid. As if she expected him to reach out and hit her. Or that she thought he might up and walk away.

He was totally going to deal with that issue, but first, Helen.

“She’s not the woman I remember being with for so long.” Matt stared into space, trying to recall her being this vindictive. Other than when she’d actually cheated on him and left, Helen had been careless at times, and selfish, but never truly cruel. “We can talk to the police, but Helen hasn’t done anything illegal. Being a pest isn’t a criminal offense.”

Hope stiffened as he spoke. “But she’s a nuisance. Isn’t there a law about not bothering people? Can I get a restraining order or something?”

Matt shrugged. “Not sure. I’ll take you down to the station and we can talk to my cousin Anna. Or you could phone her and ask for advice. Do you know where Helen’s staying?”

Hope nodded. “I’d call her, but I’m afraid I wouldn’t have much to say right now other than
fuck off and leave me alone
. Which would probably lead to me being shouted at, and things would go downhill from there.”

He agreed. “Don’t call right now. Give it time and consider the options.”

She struggled out of his arms and surged to her feet. “Damn it. Why did she come back? Why could she not just stay in Calgary and get on with her life?”

It was a good question. “The main thing is to make sure she’s not going to be able to get into your life anymore. We’ll work together to find a way to do that. Are you with me?”

Hope turned from pacing the living room, her arms slipping in front of her as she hugged herself tight. She bit her bottom lip and refused to meet his eyes…and didn’t answer his question. “I’m sorry about Clay—not about him being here, because you’re right that’s not my fault. But I feel like…”

Maybe she was going to bring it up. That weird sensation he’d gotten from her ever since he’d walked into the apartment—there had to be a reason. “Feel like what?”

“Like I’ve done something wrong. Like you’re going to be upset because he was here.”

Matt sighed. “This is because of that damn cock-fight Clay and I were having before you and I started dating, right?”

A tiny smile snuck past her frown. A fleeting sign of the woman he’d been spending his days with. The woman he’d been dreaming about at night.

“Maybe?”

Dammit.
Mat rose to his feet and took her hands in his. He tried again. “I’m not upset with you. And I’m sure we can deal with your sister. Do you want my help?”

This time Hope nodded tentatively. “Can we put away my groceries before we do anything else? My ice cream is melting.”

Everything about her remained hesitant. As if the vital, lively woman he was so attracted to was being smothered under a layer of something that Matt suspected was fear. But he’d been around his share of timid animals in the past. The ones who’d been hurt and learned to be suspicious of others. There was a lot some caring and loving could do.

Family held together. Friends worked through the tough times. Misunderstandings happened, but when people were honest with each other, they could work it out.

And that’s what Hope was going to find out big-time, if he had any say in the matter.

Chapter Twenty-Two

Hope tucked the last of the vegetables into the crisper, wondering if he’d noticed it took an unearthly length of time to find places for what she’d bought.

There was a ton she needed to say, but she dreaded it so much that even a foolish prank like drawing out her chores seemed worthwhile. Just to keep him at her side for a few more minutes, their hands and bodies bumping, his familiar scent an addictive drug to her senses.

A couple days ago the realization had hit she’d somehow crossed the line. He was no longer a guy she was obsessed with. The one she could find instantly in a crowded room.

She had gone and fallen in love, and now her sister had to come and remind her all over why she’d avoided serious relationships. It wasn’t anything Matt had done, not yet at least. But all her hard-won confidence from the past year was fading fast as Helen tore away her control.

This is why you can’t have nice things.
The smart-ass remark popped into her head, and she snorted in spite of her frustration. Yeah, right. If she clung to her sense of humour, it might help her get to the end of the day with her mind intact.

A quick turn brought her face to face with Matt, his grey eyes staring intently at her face. Like a Band-Aid, the quicker she did this, the better.

“Thanks for dropping in. I’ll call the police department and…”

He was already shaking his head, moving in closer. “That sounds as if you’re trying to get rid of me. What’s the rush?”

The rush was she had to do this before her courage failed. Helen had pushed so hard, so often. At some point Matt was going to throw up his hands and wish he’d never gotten involved with either of them. Hope would prefer to cut the ties before her heart got more involved—as if that was possible.

She tried to make it seem casual. “I’m tired. All this melodrama has been too much. How about I’ll call you in a few days?”

Walking toward the door was the hardest thing, but maybe if she actually opened it and pushed him out, he’d go.

He didn’t budge.

If anything, he got a little more settled against the wall he was now pretending to hold up, his broad shoulders easing back. Arms crossed in front of him, the entire long length of him relaxed and muscular and good enough to eat.

Hope swung the door open.

Matt laughed. Outright laughed. “I don’t think so, darling. Whatever it is that’s biting your ass is gonna get worked out right now.”

“There’s nothing—”

“Hope.” All the relaxation vanished as he straightened and moved in like a predator intent on its prey. “Go to your room, strip and lay on the bed.”

Her mouth was open far enough if this was summer, she’d be catching flies.

Matt raised a brow. “You hear me?”

“You expect after this kind of day that I’m going to—”

“Listen to what I’m telling you to do without a single fucking complaint? Oh yeah. You said you wanted me to take, then, goddamn, I’m taking. I need to grab something from my truck, but by the time I get back I expect you to be naked on your bed. You got that?”

Hope swallowed hard as she clutched the door. The cool wintry March air floated in, knocking some sense into her.

It might be the last thing she got from him, so…why not? The
why
was easy—the goose bumps pebbling her flesh weren’t caused by the chill brushing past her. It was all him.

His voice, his body—the way he stalked in and made every bit of her quiver.

The way he looked at her. Heated, dirty passion waiting to be forced on her, and she knew in the midst of all of the chaos that this afternoon would be something she’d never forget.

Pity it was bound to be their last time.

She didn’t answer him. Just brought her hands up over her head as she stripped off her T-shirt. Eyes focused straight forward, she paced past him, brushing his chest, his fingers trailing over her bare shoulders as she moved to the back of the apartment.

She deliberately dropped one article after the other on the floor, like a breadcrumb trail leading toward safety. Only this was one of the most dangerous things she’d ever done.