Rocky Mountain Desire: Six Pack Ranch, Book 3 (8 page)

Deserted all right. “She’s not my favourite person in the world, but I try to not dwell on it.”

Matt nodded slowly. He didn’t say anything else, just slipped out the door into the cold December day.

Hope walked to the front display window and watched him cross the street to the hardware store. She had no idea what was going on in his head, but she was dangerously close to making a terrible mistake. A mistake like letting him know that she thought of him more often than a friend should.

And after all the pain Helen had caused, dragging him though another dramatic situation was the last thing she wanted.

She leaned her forehead against the cool glass, the heated air from her lungs fogging the window and slowly blocking her vision. Time for a change of mindset, starting now.

After all these years of pretending, dancing on stage and putting on a show, she should be able to do this. When she’d danced she’d made it seem as if she’d wanted every single man she looked in the eye more passionately than her next breath. This was another sort of illusion. Categorize him as hands-off—or even better, just a casual acquaintance. Make sure everything she said and did shouted that loud and clear.

Plus, Rocky Mountain House was a small town, but not
that
small. After Matt had done a few repairs to shed his guilt over her ruined things, she should be able to avoid him. They’d been out of touch for years at one point. With a little effort on her part, she could make that a reality again.

Letting Matt move on with his life was more than important, it was vital. Because it would be a sign she’d actually moved on with her own. Getting past the hurt of Helen’s desertion? Financially she got enough reminders of that every damn month, but even there she was determined to win her way back.

But being caught up in longing for a man she could never have was slowly killing her. She had to give up these silly unanswerable fantasies if she ever wanted to find a way to be truly happy.

And fortunately, distraction had already given her permission to call. Hope stepped to the phone and dialed before she could change her mind.

Chapter Six

The cold air vanished in a blast of heat as Matt entered the bar, his cousin and brother following right behind. Gabe directed him to the side while Travis shrugged his way up to the bar and ordered three beers.

“You picked a hell of a night to go out,” Gabe complained. He eyeballed the dance floor before brightening as he slapped Matt between the shoulders. “But then, since I see more than one group of females without company, I’ll be magnanimous and forgive you.”

“It’s December in Alberta. It’s going to be cold. Get over it.”

“Hey, I’m not the one looking at lambing season starting within the month.”

“Don’t remind me.” Matt took off his gloves and stuffed them in his coat pocket.

His brother sauntered up. “The only thing good about lambing is that we’ve got enough barn space they don’t have to drop them outdoors. It’s filthy and exhausting work, but at least it’s moderately warm.”

Travis set down two long-necked bottles, hanging on to the third for himself, and turned to get a better view of the room.

“I’ll drink to that.” Matt snapped up one bottle and passed the last to Gabe.

“You boys are lucky you switched your schedule. Still haven’t convinced my dad that calving in February is old school and timing them for April is a hell of a lot easier on the body and the feed costs.”

From then on, Matt pretty much ignored the conversation between Travis and Gabe. Ranching discussions had already filled his day. He didn’t want it to be what he talked about all damn night as well.

But it was good to get out of his trailer. Maybe find a little companionship for the night.

Someone to get his mind off Hope Meridan, because she was pretty much all he’d been thinking about since last week, sorry son of a gun that he was.

It wasn’t just the feel of her under him, but the little things he’d started to obsess over. Like her ready smile. Her stubborn refusal to allow him to do anything for her without complaining first.

The music was loud enough there was no need to pretend he wanted to contribute to the conversation. He leaned back on his stool and peered around, checking to see who was out that he recognized.

His gaze skittered over the dance floor, and his meager supply of calm and relaxed whooshed away.

Hope had her arms draped around Clay Thompson’s neck, and they were both smiling way too much for this to be a first casual
hello
dance. Hell, he couldn’t see any daylight between them either, and the way Hope was wiggling, Clay had to be pressed nice and tight to her soft breasts and…

Fuck it.
Matt picked up his bottle and chugged back a few long swallows. No reason why she couldn’t be here. She was a grown-up. Clay was too.

But it was impossible to pull his gaze away. She had on skintight jeans, faded patches on the ass, all her ample curves right out there and visible. Clay had tucked his thumbs into her belt loops, fingers spread over her butt as they swayed together. Hope rested her head on his chest, the motion turning her face toward Matt. She’d closed her eyes, face relaxed and a hint of smile on her lips.

It was the most peaceful Matt had ever seen her, and something ached inside.

He wasn’t wishing her anything less than happiness, but there was this strange sensation that rushed him. He stared at Clay’s hands as the man moved them slowly over Hope’s body, and the ache switched to something sharper and needier.

Matt sipped his beer and deliberately rotated his stool so they weren’t in his line of vision. That brought him into direct sight of a Christmas party group of women, gazes darting over him and the boys. Travis was already making a move. He lifted his bottle in salute, then grinned at Matt and Gabe when a couple ladies headed their direction in response.

“You guys know how to dance? Because we need some exercise and our favourite song is about to come on.” Their spokesperson shook her head back and smiled enticingly.

“What’s your favourite song?” Travis teased. He stood and stepped behind them, hands resting lightly on their shoulders.

“Any that we’re dancing with you?”

“Well, I’m all for making your night a little brighter.” Travis took her by the hand and led her toward the floor.

Gabe rose and reached for the other lady. He paused and motioned with his head as he spoke to Matt. “You joining us on the floor?”

Matt glanced away, catching sight of Clay moving toward the bathrooms. Hope sat at a table with a glass in her hand. Damn it anyway. “Yeah.”

But he didn’t head to the partiers’ table to find his own dance partner. His feet carried him the other direction, and he found himself staring at Hope, wondering what the hell he was doing. “Hey.”

She glanced up, and her smile vanished as she slammed her lips together. “Matt?”

Awkwardness edged along his spine, and he felt about ten years old. “How are you?”

Hope snuck a peek toward the bathrooms. “Good. What’re you doing?”

I have no fucking idea
was the first thing in his brain. Couldn’t say that though. Like a damn fool, he slipped into the empty seat across from her. That at least put the table between them so he wouldn’t do anything stupid like dragging her from her chair and into his arms. “Just getting in some relaxation before the winter lambs start arriving. How are you?”

She leaned back, her uncomfortable expression twisting with amusement, and he realized he’d repeated himself. “Just fine. Not much changed since two seconds ago. Or since I saw you last week. Life’s not that interesting.”

Something had changed. Last week she hadn’t been in Clay’s arms. “Didn’t mean…yeah. Well. I guess I meant more… I mean.”

If he could have faded into the background, he would have. This frantic fumbling was not like him, but it seemed when it came to Hope, he had no style. He was so busy trying not to stare at the way her soft blue shirt stretched over her full breasts he didn’t quite know where to look.

“Hey. I wanted to tell you that timer on the thermostat? Wonderful invention.” She must have felt sorry for him. There was no other reason for her to actually be nice and try to put him at ease. “I’ve managed to adjust the times so the furnace is running at high for fewer hours, but the shop is toasty when I open in the morning.”

Matt grinned. “Yeah, it might take a long time to heat up a space that big, but the heat lingers, so you can turn it off a couple hours before you close and no one will notice.”

Their conversation was inconsequential. Furnaces and quilt shops, and he still fought his attraction. Talking about rising heat—the irony wasn’t lost on him.

He was so distracted by her blue eyes he didn’t see Clay return.

“You’re in my seat,” Clay growled.

Matt stared up at a wall. He wasn’t a small man himself, from working the land for years, but Clay was a bloody monster. “Resting my feet for a minute and saying hello.”

He rose. Clay stared daggers at him. Neither of them said anything, but the tension was there.

“I’ll be right back.” Hope escaped her chair and raced away. She was halfway to the bathroom in no time, and guilt hit Matt. It was as if she was fleeing from them.

“What the hell foolishness you working, Coleman?” Clay pushed Matt aside.

“Nothing. Honest.”
Just being a stupid shit.
Matt shrugged. “Thought I’d say hello and make sure she was okay. I pulled her from the car the other night.”

“She’s fine. Now that you’ve said hi, you can go find somewhere else to take a break.”

Matt nodded and backed off. There was no reason for him to be defensive. No right to be worried about Hope and what she was doing with Clay.

The section of the bar where he’d sat with his kin was deserted. Gabe and Travis were both on the floor happily dancing with the ladies. Matt ordered a second drink and steadfastly ignored everything but taking measured sips from his bottle.

Especially paying no heed to the part that wished he were the one tucking Hope up against him and holding on tight.

Chapter Seven

For a Tuesday morning, the shop was crazy busy. Hope hurried to enter another sale before turning to help find some last-minute items for a gift. Sweet relief accompanied the rush—she was going to survive her first Christmas season and make the required profit to fill in the gaps from the first lean months.

She smoothed her hair as she passed the tiny mirror on the wall between the register and the sales floor. Her cheeks were bright red from moving around rapidly, but it was the fact her smile was real that made up for a lot of her previous stress.

Maybe this solo-ownership thing was going to work. First anniversary wasn’t until May, but if she was careful she’d make it through okay, in spite of having Helen ditch her.

“Are you out of bright cherry-red piping?” Two customers waited beside the cutting table and Hope raced over to help them.

“There’s more in the back. Is that all you need? Because if you have other items to grab, I’ll be able to finish the orders for you in a minute.”

The ladies waved happily. “Don’t rush. We’ve got babysitters at home since the kids are out of school all week. The only thing left on our list is to stop for a cup of coffee.”

Hope pointed to the back sitting area where she’d arranged comfortable chairs around a tiny Christmas tree. “Help yourself. I put out some deluxe mixes this week for a special treat. You can have a coffee, chat—I’ll do up your orders when you’re ready.”

She watched with delight as three customers took her up on the offer and moved to the back, talking and dropping extra knickknacks in their baskets as they went.

Finding the extra piping in the back wasn’t nearly as successful. She found the box she needed readily enough, but the shelving units were more decorative than sturdy. She cursed lightly as the entire load tipped forward and slipped to the floor, one surviving box clutched in her fingers.

The disaster sprawled everywhere, but she’d have to clean it up once the doors closed. Hope rushed back into the shop.

Time flew as she dealt with sales, satisfaction accompanying her creeping exhaustion. She passed over another shopping bag and smiled happily. “Thanks for coming. Merry Christmas.”

Her cherry-piping sale pushed out the door, the front bells tinkling merrily, the same moment one of the hardware employees trolleyed in a tall box.

“Delivery for you, Hope. I’ve got three more in the truck. Where do you want them?”

The blast of cold through the door snapped off as he closed it behind him, but Hope examined his load with trepidation. “Why are you delivering my new shelves now? I thought no one could build them until the New Year? I asked for them to be stored until then.”

He snapped to attention, a grin plastered to his face. “You were on the Secret Santa list. Someone is coming out today to set them up for you.”

Mortification froze her feet in place. Only he looked so damn pleased about the whole thing she forced a smile. “Well. That’s…nice. Umm, I don’t remember signing up for the Secret Santa. In fact, I know I didn’t.”

“Your name was on the list, and someone volunteered to drop by. That’s all I know. Love this time of year—people are so giving.”

He pointed at his burden and Hope nodded. No matter how horrified she was, she couldn’t leave him standing there. “Can you put them just outside the back storage room, please?”

All the while she served her customers and tidied the shop from the mad scramble of the morning, Hope tried to figure out who the hell would have put her name down for the Secret Santa.

It was a charity service. She didn’t need help. In fact, she’d offered items herself, making a couple of quilts for the hospital and nursing home.

Being lumped as a charity case wasn’t a happy thought. Even the pleasure of getting to organize the chaos of the back room onto sturdy metal shelving wasn’t enough to eliminate the distaste in her mouth.

The phone rang, and she hurried to answer it, an additional flash of discomfort hitting as she recognized Clay’s voice.