Cowboy After Dark (12 page)

“Being allowed to use his imagination. Bringing something into the world that didn’t exist before, at least not in that form. Because he uses recycled materials, the individual pieces existed but not in that configuration.”

Writers recycled words in the same way, gathering them up and stringing them together to make something new. She felt him watching her, gauging her reaction. She wanted to look away and hide the turmoil he could probably see in her eyes, but that would be the coward’s way out. She and Tom used to talk about the joy of bringing something into existence. “That’s great.”

“It is. I love talking to him because he’s a creative thinker.” He hesitated and his expression softened. “So are you. It’s a special—”

“I believe we were talking about Grady.”

He shrugged. “Then forget I said it.”

“Like I can.” But she’d been the one who’d stumbled into this messy topic, so she couldn’t really blame him.

“Maybe you shouldn’t forget it. “

“Liam, I—”

“And that’s all I’m going to say on the subject, because I don’t want to argue.” He smiled. “I’m a lover, not a fighter.”

She took a deep breath. “I’m not going to say anything more, either.”

“About anything?”

“That’s right. Talking will only get me in trouble.”

“I don’t know who you’re in trouble with, but it sure as hell isn’t me.”

“I’m not in trouble
with
anyone. I’m just in trouble, period.”

“Why is that?” His blue gaze searched hers.

She swallowed. “Until yesterday I thought I was doing fine, and now I’m pretty sure I’m not.”

He reached for her hand and gave it a squeeze. “Don’t panic. You
are
doing fine.”

“Easy for you to say. You’re not the one with her stomach in knots.” She couldn’t believe she’d admitted that, but it was too late to take it back.

He stroked the palm of her hand with his thumb as he looked into her eyes. “Am I part of the problem?” His voice was laced with concern.

“You are, but it’s a combination of things, including the wedding. I didn’t realize it would affect me to see how happy Phil and Damon are together, but apparently it does.”

“I can’t fix that, but I can fix my part in all of this. I’ll admit I’ve poked my nose in your business, and I have no right to. Apparently I can’t help myself, so the best thing is for me to back off.”

She tightened her grip on his hand. “Please don’t.”

“I don’t want to cause you any more stress.”

“Sometimes you do, but—”

“Seriously, Hope, we should rethink the plan if I’m making you more anxious. The last thing I want is—”

“You didn’t let me finish.”

“Sorry.”

“It’s okay.” She lowered her voice. “You’re desperate to help me, and I appreciate that so much. But I’d be lying if I denied that you cause me stress. You make me think about things I’d rather not.”

He sighed. “I know.”

“That’s the bad news. But the good news is...”

“What? Give me some good news, because I’m feeling like a real jerk right now.”

“The good news is that you’re the best stress reliever I’ve ever met.”

12

L
IAM
DIDN
’
T
FEEL
particularly noble for accepting Hope’s flattering statement as a reason to continue their affair. But she was right. Good sex was a time-honored stress reducer, and apparently he provided that for her. She wanted him to keep on providing it until they both returned to Cody.

She’d hinted that she was a little envious of Phil and Damon, and as Liam watched the rehearsal, he felt an unwelcome jab of envy, too. They made it look so easy. Yet Liam knew the relationship hadn’t been easy at all. Damon had told him how he’d stubbornly clung to his belief that he was destined to live alone, and he’d almost lost Phil as a result.

People became damaged in so many ways. Liam counted himself lucky that his irresponsible dad had taken off before he was born. Grady’s dad had stayed a little longer, but their mom had kicked him out just in time. If that loser had been allowed to stick around, he and Grady would have been messed up for sure. Instead they’d been protected by their fierce mother, and when she’d been laid up, unable to do the job, Rosie and Herb had stepped in. Hope’s parents might have tried to keep her safe, but they hadn’t counted on a creep like Tom. They also didn’t know what Tom had done to her, and that was a damn shame. She’d denied herself their comfort.

So now her temporary sex partner—he couldn’t consider himself anything more—was the only person who knew what she’d been through. And he wasn’t supposed to talk about it. He wouldn’t, either, first because he’d promised and second because talking about it caused her stress.

But he had a problem, and it wasn’t a small one. He’d watched Grady blossom and knew that a creative person needed a satisfying outlet. His brother craved time alone in his studio, and Liam’s rafting schedule gave Grady that. When Liam arrived home after a week away, Grady was always glowing with a sense of accomplishment and eager to show off his progress. Grady without his sculpting wouldn’t have been the same person.

Hope had abandoned her writing, so where was that bottled up creativity going? She’d mentioned some crafts, but he didn’t get the feeling she was into any of them. He pictured her imaginative urges building like a pressure cooker about to explode, or worse yet, festering and destroying her zest for life. He couldn’t accept that a person who’d worked on a book for years could suddenly shut down the whole operation.

If he’d been a different kind of man, he could have dismissed those worries and simply enjoyed the sex. Chances were good that a fair amount of her frustration would be channeled into getting it on with him. He was willing to relieve her stress, but he wasn’t willing to siphon off her creativity.

He’d read a book that claimed each person contributed a unique gift to the world. His was introducing folks to the Zen of the wilderness. Grady’s was welding recycled metal into beautiful works of art. What if Hope’s was writing stories to capture a reader’s imagination? She was denying her gift.

He was still holding her hand when the rehearsal ended. “I think that went well.”

“You do? Really?” Grady stood and offered an elbow to Chelsea, who laughingly waved him off as she carefully made her way over to the carpeted aisle.

“Everybody seemed to be having a good time,” Hope said.

“That may be so.” Grady caught Chelsea by the elbow when she stumbled on a wrinkle in the carpet. “But they have no idea who’s supposed to be in charge of the ring.”

“I’m sure they’ll work it out,” Hope said. She’d made no attempt to free her hand as they walked behind Chelsea and Grady.

“Then they should draw straws,” Grady said. “It’s nuts having three guys all be the best man.”

“They get points for originality, though.” Chelsea gave in and clutched Grady’s arm as she wobbled along on her stilettos. “I’ve never been to a wedding with three best men and three matrons of honor. I mean,
two
matrons
of honor and one maid. In any case, I like the idea that Phil and Damon thumbed their noses at traditional roles. That bridal hierarchy never appealed to me in the first place.”

“Me, either,” Hope said. “If you have several good friends or cherished relatives, why be forced to elevate one to the privileged position?”

“Exactly.” Chelsea glanced over her shoulder and exchanged a look of solidarity with Hope.

“Yeah, I can see that,” Grady said. “And I’m all for shaking up the status quo, but you need a plan or you have chaos. Hey, Chelsea, here comes your one and only.” He called out to Finn. “I’ve done my best to keep her upright, bro. In return she’s promised to talk me up at a primo Seattle art gallery.”

Finn laughed. “Sounds like a fair exchange.”

“I hate to admit it,” Chelsea said, transferring her hold from Grady to Finn, “but these shoes are a pain in the tuckus.”

“Yeah.” Finn put a supportive hand around her waist. “But they’re sexy as hell.”

“Assuming that she doesn’t fall on her tuckus,” Grady said. “That would really sabotage the sexy.”

Chelsea gazed up at Finn. “Grady’s right, so it looks like you’ll have to keep a tight grip on me throughout the evening so I don’t fall.”

“And you know how I’ll hate doing that.” Finn’s adoring expression telegraphed exactly how far gone he was.

And now Liam envied him, too. He’d never had that reaction to happy couples until today. Maybe he’d become too invested in someone who had no intention of sticking around.

“Yeah, helluva job to be saddled with, O’Roarke,” Grady said. “Come on, everybody. Let’s go get us some eats and drinks. I smell steak on the barbie.”

“Great. I’m starving.” Anyone hearing Hope’s comment would have assumed she was ready to party.

But Liam thought she might be faking it, so as they walked over to the fire pit, he gave her hand a squeeze in a show of support. Her return squeeze was enough to activate his protective instincts, and after years of watching over Grady, he knew how easily he slipped into that role. The trick might be slipping back out at the end of the week.

Grady’s wire mesh over the fire had worked like a charm, and the resulting coals were perfect for grilling. Cade, Damon and Finn had appointed themselves cooks for the evening, and Herb was the bartender. Liam offered to help, but he was directed to a bench, where he and Hope were given their beverage of choice and ordered to stay put.

“You can be on cleanup duty after dinner, bro,” Cade said.

“Be glad to.”

“I can help clean up later, too,” Hope said.

Cade grinned at her. “I appreciate the offer, but the guys are gonna handle it. By the way, that flower looks real nice in your hair.”

“Thank you.” Her cheeks turned pink.

“It does look great.” Phil walked over and sat on Hope’s other side. “Reminds me of the old days. You could always tell when school was almost out for the summer because a bunch of us girls would pick wildflowers and put them in our hair. It was fun.”

Hope laughed. “They weren’t always wildflowers, either. Remember sneaking into Mrs. Eddleston’s yard?”

“Yes! And then we pooled our babysitting money and bought her four rosebushes because we had an attack of conscience.” She glanced at Liam. “Just to let you know we weren’t really bad girls.”

“Thanks.” Liam grinned at her. “I was worried.”

“We probably could have just asked for the flowers.” Hope turned to him. “But we were afraid of her. There was this rumor going around school that she’d done away with her husband and buried him under the rosebushes.”

“Which we found out wasn’t true,” Phil said. “My dad overheard me talking about it and told me they got a divorce. Apparently Mr. Eddleston was very much alive and living in Idaho. So we bought her the rosebushes. And Hope wrote a song that we all sang when we presented them.”

“Oh, my God, I forgot about that song.”

“Really? I might still be able to sing it.”

Hope turned bright red. “No, don’t.”

Liam went on alert. “Phil...”

“Trust me, Liam. It’s adorable. Mrs. Eddleston loved it. We all did. Besides, I was in choir. I’m a good singer.”

“Yes, you are,” Hope said, “but it’s not a good song. Don’t sing it.”

Liam opened his mouth to protest again, but then he glanced at Hope and changed his mind. She was still blushing like crazy, but her gray eyes sparkled with excitement. This might not be a bad thing, after all.

“I’m the bride,” Phil said. “I get to do what I want.” She cleared her throat. “Here goes.”

“Noooo.”

Phil ignored her. “In your yard we came creeping, with you soundly sleeping, our sharp pruners flashing, then off we were dashing, to—”

“Stop, stop!” Hope giggled and covered her face with both hands. “This is beyond embarrassing.”

Phil smiled and finished the song. “To places here and there, with your flowers in our hair.” She drew out the last note and ended with a flourish as everyone clapped and cheered. Standing, she took a bow and then gestured to Hope. “Composed by our very own Hope Caldwell at the tender age of fifteen! Bravo!”

Hope groaned. “It’s a good thing this is the eve of your wedding, because if it wasn’t, I would
kill
you.”

But Liam noticed there was no bite to her words. Sure, she was embarrassed, but she also seemed pleased that Phil remembered the song all these years later. She’d lost the novel she’d spent countless hours writing, but this cute little song had survived.

Whether intentionally or not, Phil had rocketed Hope back to a time before her dreams had been crushed. Even better, she still enjoyed being recognized for something that she’d created. It was a start.

Phil leaned down and gave her a hug. “Forgive me?”

“Oh, sure.” Hope gazed up at her with a placid smile. “But you might want to check around your place after you get back from your honeymoon. I’m not saying I’ll put salt in the sugar bowl or a big rubber spider in your cupboard, but I’m not saying I won’t, either.”

Phil chuckled. “I’ll keep that in mind.” She glanced over at Liam. “She may seem sweet and innocent, but I could tell you stories.”

“I’ll bet.” Getting a glimpse of the mischief-maker Hope used to be showed him even more clearly how Tom had affected her. He wondered if Phil saw the change and had decided to remind Hope of that girl of fifteen who’d written a song about stealing flowers. If so, good for Phil.

The meal went late and the cleanup even later.

While Liam worked with his brothers at the barbecue site and then in the kitchen, Herb and Phil’s dad shot pool, and Hope sat on the front porch chatting with the other women. Rosie had made a big pot of coffee and opened a new bottle of Baileys. Liam wondered if the planned rendezvous in the vacant cabin would be happening after all.

The ladies were still going strong when the guys finished in the kitchen and joined them on the porch. Liam came out the door in time to hear Edie say, “I like mine nice and thick.”

“I don’t mind so much if they’re thin.” That was Chelsea. “But I hate it when they’re limp.”

“That’s the worst,” Hope said. “Give me thick and firm any day.”

Cade spoke before Liam had a chance. “What in
hell
are you ladies talking about?”

Lexi stood and walked toward him, smiling. “What do you think we’re talking about?”

“I’m not about to take a guess after what I heard.” He turned to Liam. “You want to?”

“Not me.” He glanced back as Finn, Grady and Damon filed through the screen door. “Apparently the discussion out here on the porch is a debate about thin versus thick, and nobody wants limp. Any of you want to venture a guess as to what they’re discussing?”

Finn laughed. “I know exactly what they’re discussing.”

“Yeah.” Damon rubbed the back of his neck. “Me, too. Blame it on the Baileys. And we’re having a wedding tomorrow, so I guess it’s only natural that talk would turn to—”

“Fries,” Finn said. “They’re talking about fries. Chels, am I right?”

“You’re right.”

Lexi sighed. “You’re no fun, O’Roarke. I had the rest of them going.”

“Sorry about that, Lex. Chels and I had this discussion earlier because I was thinking of changing up the pub fries at O’Roarke’s. We decided I should leave them thick.”

“I thought it was probably fries,” Cade said.

“No, you didn’t.” Lexi put her arm through his. “Let’s head back to my place, cowboy. Maybe we’ll cook up some fries.”

Cade surveyed the group on the porch. “That’s code for sex, in case nobody picked up on it.”

Lexi gave him a swat on the arm.

“We picked up on it,” Damon said, rolling his eyes. “See you two in the morning.”

About that time, Karl and Herb finished their pool game and came out to the porch.

“He skunked me,” Karl said.

“But you put up a good fight.” Herb clapped him on the shoulder.

“Very gracious of you to say so.” Karl beamed at everyone. “It’s been a great day, but I’m bushed.” He looked over at his wife. “Edie, think we can talk my future son-in-law into meandering back to town and hauling us along with him?”

“Sounds like a fine idea.”

Damon laughed. “I’m in. Phil, you ready to wrap it up?”

“Sure.” Phil stood. “But wait! Isn’t it bad luck for you to see the bride the night before the wedding?”

“How about if I promise to keep my eyes closed?”

“That works, but I’d better drive. Goodbye, all. See you tomorrow.”

The crowd was dispersing, and Liam’s hopes rose in proportion to the number of people exiting the area. At last Chelsea finished her Baileys and coffee and was ready to walk back to the cabin with Finn. She’d borrowed a pair of flip-flops from Rosie after growing tired of dealing with her stilettos, which she’d tucked into a borrowed tote.

Earlier Liam had explained the vacant cabin setup to Grady, who seemed to be finding the long trail of goodbyes amusing. “Guess I’ll turn in, too,” he said. “Coming with me, bro?” His grin said he knew the answer.

“In a minute.” Liam propped a hip against the porch railing. “It’s a beautiful night. Almost hate to go in.”

“It’s beautiful, all right,” Herb said, “but it’s been a long day. I’m off to bed. Rosie?”