Red Velvet Revenge (12 page)

Not only that; he was outfitted as if he were the poster boy for Wrangler. He wore a Western shirt, jeans, and boots. Buttoned-down Armani Tate was gone, and in his place was a smoking-hot cowboy.

Mel turned and saw that Angie had locked in on him as well. In fact, her mouth was hanging slightly open, and she looked stunned.

“Let me go after her,” Lily said. “I’ll talk some sense into her, or better yet, I’ll kick some sense into her.”

Mel turned back to Lily and Slim. Lily was holding her father’s good arm, and she looked worried.

“No, there’s no point,” Slim said. “You know how Shelby gets when she’s mad. She says hurtful things, but she doesn’t mean it.”

“She’s twenty-four years old, Dad,” Lily said. Her voice had a hard edge of anger to it. “When is she going to grow up?”

Slim sighed and looped an arm about her shoulders and pulled her close.

“You’re an old soul like me, kiddo,” he said, and placed
a kiss on her head. “We can’t expect everyone to be as stodgy as us.”

“But…” Lily protested.

“Let it go, honey,” he said. “I think I’ll go back to the house to rest. I’ll see you in the barrel-racing finals tonight.”

“I’ll come with you,” she said.

“I’ve got it,” he said. “You stay here with your greenhorn and see if you can get him to lasso more than a fence post.”

Slim winked at his daughter, and she blushed. Mel felt Angie stiffen beside her. She turned to look at her and found Angie as taut as a banjo string and vibrating as if she’d just been plucked.

“Are you okay?” she asked.

Angie spun on her heel. “I’m going back to the van.”

“But, Angie…” Mel’s voice trailed off as Angie stomped back the way they’d come without once glancing over her shoulder.

Suddenly a loop of rope dropped around Mel’s shoulders and was pulled tight.

“‘Hi, Curly. Killed anyone today?’” Tate asked.

Mel couldn’t help but grin. “‘The day ain’t over yet.’”

“
City Slickers
,” they said together, and exchanged a knuckle bump.

“Now, get this off of me,” Mel said as she wiggled within the rope.

As Tate lifted the lasso off of her, Lily joined them.

“Lily, this is my friend Mel. Mel, this is Slim’s daughter Lily,” he said.

Mel and Lily shook. Mel liked that Lily had a warm, firm grip.

“Is Slim okay?” she asked.

“He’s been better.” Lily sighed. She met Mel’s gaze with a direct one of her own. “And he’d be better if my crazy sister would stop her shenanigans. Honestly.”

Lily shook her head, and Mel decided she liked Lily Hazard. She seemed like a no-nonsense, down-to-earth kind of person. Tate was watching the brunette with a small smile, and she got the feeling he liked her, too. Oh, dear.

“Lily,” a man called out as he strode toward them.

He wore broken-in jeans over scuffed boots, a wide leather belt with a big buckle, a Western shirt that was molded to his broad shoulders, and a hat that looked as if it had survived a stampede and was now conformed to his head. The newcomer made Tate look like a newly minted, shiny penny while he was the worn-down, scuffed penny that had traveled the world picking up a nice patina.

“Hi, Jake,” Lily said, and then she gestured to them. “Jake Morgan, this is Tate and Mel. They’re food vendors for the rodeo.”

“Pleasure to meet you.” Jake shook Tate’s hand and tipped his hat at Mel, which she found utterly charming.

“Jake is my father’s right-hand man,” Lily said.

“Nah, that’s you, except you’re a woman,” Jake said. “I’m more like his left hand.”

Lily grinned. “And he’s humble.”

“Aw, shucks,” Jake teased.

Jake was not handsome in a movie-star or underwear-model sense. Rather, he was good-looking in a rough-and-tumble, badly-in-need-of-a-shave sort of way. Under his hat, Mel could see dark brown hair that wanted a trim. His eyes were light brown and sported crow’s-feet in the corners that deepened when he smiled, but he also had deep
dimples that bracketed his smile, which made it impossible not to smile in return.

“How is Slim?” Jake asked. “I heard he was in here having words with Shelby.”

“He looks tired,” Lily said.

“He should be resting,” Jake said. He frowned. “Didn’t the doc say bed rest?”

“He did,” Lily agreed. “I guess I can thank Shelby for wearing him out enough to send him back to bed.”

“Don’t worry,” Jake said. He squeezed her shoulder. “I’ll go check on him.”

“Thanks,” she said. “He’ll listen to you.”

Jake tipped his hat to Mel and Tate as he left, and again Mel felt utterly boggled.

“Jake was driving the car when Dad was shot,” Lily said. “I’m worried that he blames himself for Dad’s injury, as if there was anything he could have done to prevent it.”

“Well, that’s ridiculous,” Tate said. “I mean, it was a freak accident, right?”

“That’s what Dad says.” Lily frowned at the doorway, as if her thoughts were elsewhere.

“But you don’t believe it?” Mel asked.

Lily turned back to her and forced a smile.

“Oh, I’m just being silly,” she said with a shake of her head.

Mel wanted to question her further about the shooting, but Lily reached out and squeezed Tate’s arm in a familiar way that Mel found alarming.

“I’m going to go make sure Shelby steers clear of the rodeo for the rest of the day,” Lily said. “I’ll see you later at the barrel-riding competition?”

She was polite enough to pose her question as if she were asking both of them, but Mel got the feeling it was really just for Tate.

“Count on it,” Tate said.

“Yeah,” Mel agreed. “I wouldn’t miss it.”

They watched as Lily walked away.

“We should get you one of these hats,” Tate said as they made their way out of the tent and back toward the cupcake truck.

“I think yours is too tight,” Mel said. “It’s obviously squeezing off the blood flow to your brain.”

“What? No, it isn’t. It feels…Oh, wait—that was an insult, right?”

“You think?” Mel stepped out of the tent and back into the sunshine. She took a deep breath and got hit with the rich, peaty scent of horse dung.

“So, a guy from Scottsdale can’t dress the part at a rodeo?” he asked.

“Of course he can,” Mel said. “But I was under the impression that he was pining for the love of his life, not jollying it up with the rancher’s daughter.”

“Lily?” he asked. He shook his head. “No, it’s not like that.”

“Oh, please,” Mel said. “It’s obvious she adores you.”

“Well, I happen to be very adorable,” Tate said with a shrug.

“Is this just a joke to you?” Mel asked. “You know Roach is putting the pressure on Angie to move to LA, and if you don’t get up the nerve to say something to her soon, she may actually go. What are you going to do then, smarty-pants?”

Tate blew out a breath. “Look, I can’t say anything to Angie.”

“Why not?”

“Because I had my chance, and I blew it,” he said. “It’s not fair to Angie to make her choose between us. What if she only picks me because she
thinks
she loves me, or she confuses friendship love with relationship love and then she loses him, too. No, I can’t do that to her.”

Mel stopped walking and stood gaping at him. When her power of speech returned, she said, “You are a moron!”

“Hey!” Tate said. He pushed his hat back so he could give her his full glare. “I’m trying to do the right thing here.”

“No, you’re not.”

He huffed out a breath, looking outraged, but Mel held up her hand to ward off any tirade he might offer up.

“Tate, you’re my best friend,” she said. “I’ve known you even longer than I’ve known Angie, so I want you to take what I’m about to say in the spirit that it’s being given.”

Tate gave her a wary look, as if he was afraid she was going to put him in a headlock and stomp on him.

“Tate, you are a complete and total wuss bag.”

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me,” she said.

“I am not,” he protested.

“Oh, please. Yes, you are,” Mel insisted. “You’ve never had to work for anything in your entire life. You’ve never had to take a risk, and it’s turned you into a ginormous chicken.”

“How can you say that?” he asked. He looked hurt, and Mel felt bad about that, but honestly the boy needed to face some facts.

“Tate, you are the only son of parents who have more money than they can possibly spend in this lifetime. You coasted into Princeton as a legacy, and when you graduated, you took a job at your father’s firm. Did you even have to interview?”

Tate opened his mouth to protest but then shut it.

“Yeah, I didn’t think so,” Mel said. “You’ve never had to ask a girl out, because with a wallet as fat as yours, they hunt you down.”

“I think some of them actually like me,” he said.

“Of course they do,” Mel agreed. “You’re rich, cute, and charming. Who wouldn’t like you?”

“So, what’s your point?” he asked.

“My point is that you’re not going after Angie not because you’re trying to be fair to her, but because she’s a challenge, and you’re running scared.”

Mel paused to see how he was taking it. His brows were lowered over his eyes, and he was tugging on his ear, which always indicated that he was feeling stressed.

“You’ve never had to take a risk before, and going after Angie is the biggest risk of your life. I’m sorry, Tate, but if you want Angie, you’re going to have to man up, and you’re going to have to do it soon or you’re going to lose her forever.”

Thirteen

“This is my horse, Cocoa Bar,” Lily said.

It was evening when Mel walked down to the stables with Tate to wish Lily good luck. After their talk that afternoon, Tate had been quiet and a bit withdrawn. Mel wondered if he’d been thinking over what she’d said. He hadn’t seemed mad at her for her candor, and for that, she was relieved.

When invited to come watch the barrel-racing finals with them, Angie had sniffed and declined. Big surprise.

Cocoa Bar was beautiful. He had a shiny dark brown coat with a black mane and tail. He bucked his head at Mel as if inviting her to pat his neck.

“Go ahead,” Lily said. “He’s very sweet.”

“Hey there, big fella,” Mel said. She patted his neck and marveled at how soft he was, given that she could feel the rock-hard muscle beneath the smooth coat.

“I can’t believe you’re participating in this barbarity,” a voice snapped.

Lily and the others spun around to find Shelby and her trio of friends standing behind them. Mel noted that they were not, however, wearing their T-shirts tonight.

“Shelby, I appreciate your opinion, I do, but given that the rodeo keeps the town of Juniper Pass alive, not to mention provides the glitz-and-glam lifestyle you’ve become accustomed to, I should think you’d be more respectful,” Lily said.

“Always Daddy’s little girl, aren’t you?” Shelby hissed.

Mel felt her teeth clench. She admired Lily’s restraint, because if anyone ever spoke to her in that snotty tone, she was pretty sure she’d pop them in the kisser.

“Someone has to be,” Lily said. “Clearly, you’re not there for him anymore.”

“Whatever,” Shelby snapped. She stormed out of the stable with her crew, and again Mel met the gaze of the man with Shelby and wondered what he really thought of all this.

Lily pinched the bridge of her nose and closed her eyes as if trying to ward off a bout of tears.

“Shelby wasn’t always like this,” she said. “In fact, she was a champion barrel rider. The best I’ve ever seen.”

“What happened?” Tate asked.

“She wanted to be a movie star, so she moved to Hollywood,” Lily said. “Suddenly she wanted plastic surgery and she refused to eat meat. You notice those shoes she had on were leather, so I guess it’s okay to wear animals but not eat them.”

“It must be tough,” Mel said.

She wondered what would happen if her brother Charlie suddenly took a dislike to cupcakes and was hurtfully vocal about it. She didn’t imagine things would go well between them.

“Lily, you’re up next,” a man called from the end of the stable.

“We’ll let you get ready,” Tate said. “Good luck.”

He squeezed Lily’s arm, and she gave him a faint smile.

Mel patted Cocoa Bar one more time and whispered, “Good luck.”

He bobbed his head, and Mel was sure he’d understood her. She couldn’t help but hope he’d win.

Tate and Mel walked the length of the stables and then through a wide tunnel to the stands. It was dimly lit, and Mel squinted to see where she was going. They were halfway through when she bumped into a man in a hat.

She stumbled back and muttered, “Sorry.”

“Damn it, you should be,” the man cursed. “These are my new boots, you stupid cow.”

Mel felt her face flame hot. Even in the dim light, she recognized the formidable figure of Ty Stokes. He had two men with him, and Mel grimaced when the smell of stale beer rolled off of him and assaulted her nose with a one-two punch of PU.

“Mel, are you all right?” Tate asked.

“She’s fine. What’s it to you, poser?” Ty asked. His voice was slurred, and he wobbled where he stood.

“Come on, Tate, let’s go,” Mel said.

She took Tate’s arm and tried to lead him out of the tunnel, but he was glaring at Ty like he wanted to split his head like a coconut. Oh, dear.