The Marriage Charm (Bliss County 2) (13 page)

“No problem. I always prefer an amicable resolution.” Spence grinned, looking around at the packed tables. The air smelled like charred meat and French fries with a hint of ketchup. “I’d order but you seem plenty busy.”

“I can scrounge you up the meatloaf special to go in about two minutes.”

Bad Billy’s made a mean meatloaf, that was for sure. “Make it two orders, and I’ll take one back to Junie. She’s been pretty sick, and she’s still kind of pale.”

“Heard that.” Billy moved efficiently behind the counter, picking up an order slip, clipping it to the rotating metal ring for the kitchen, and spinning it with the skill of someone who’d done it a time or two. “Poor darlin’.”

It wasn’t as if everyone in Mustang Creek didn’t know Billy had a crush on Junie. “She’s fine,” Spence assured him.

“Good to hear.” Billy gave him a swift, shrewd glance and wiped his hands on his apron. “How’s Melody Nolan, Spence?”

That stopped him dead in the act of asking for an iced tea to go with the meatloaf. “What?”

“I was at the Moose Jaw the night of the wedding.”

“Oh.” Well, heckfire, he’d hoped there were no witnesses. Before this, no one had said anything. He probably looked like a steer that had been hit with a ball-peen hammer.

“Saw you pick her up like she was yours and carry her off to your truck.” Billy chuckled.

Like she was yours
. That phrase had such a nice ring to it.

“Her feet hurt.” That was an undeniable fact. Melody would even back him up on that one.

Billy’s eyes twinkled as he swiped a rag across the counter. “Spence, don’t try to fool an old fool. I could swear you just went a little red. She’s a beautiful girl, and once upon a time you two were an item. If you carted her off for purposes other than to, uh, help her tender feet, I’m not gonna say anything, but you know I always call it like I see it. You had a real determined set to your shoulders, son. I’ve seen it once before. Seems to me that was at Hadleigh Stevens’s first wedding—the wedding that wasn’t—when Tripp Galloway hauled her out of there in the nick o’ time. Never did like that Smythe boy, anyway. Tripp stopping that ceremony was the best thing he could’ve done.”

It was true that Hadleigh had been about to make a major mistake, and Tripp had wisely intervened. Spence said evenly, “Not exactly the same situation. Can I have corn with the meatloaf? I’m betting Junie will want green beans.”

“Sure thing.” Billy bustled off, and Spence dug out a twenty, put it on the counter and accepted the bag a few minutes later. He left the change behind to cover the tip and skedaddled.

When he got back to the station, Junie, who’d been nearly wiped out by the stomach flu, looked pathetically grateful for the food. She said, “I haven’t felt like cooking. I haven’t felt like anything. Did Billy send this?”

“With his love,” he responded drily on his way into his office. “He’d marry you tomorrow, you know. Charged me for mine, but yours was on the house. He knew I’d tell you, too. It must be his way of courting you, hoping he can win your heart with his meatloaf. I didn’t realize at first that he hadn’t charged me, so he got quite the tip.”

“He’s so sweet.”

“What can I say? He’s a sucker for a shit-kicking woman who can get away with a short denim skirt on a Saturday night.”

“You sooo know how to make a girl feel good about herself, Chief,” she said, not sparing the sarcasm.

“I try.” He shut the door to his office, dropped into his chair and devoured his lunch as he punched up his computer. Tripp had sent him an email.

Back in Mustang Creek. Great to be home.

He sent back:

Great to have you here.

It was.

Mind dropping by to discuss the party?

You just got back. Are you up for it?

Melody is coming over, too.

That was just plain bribery. An officer of the law should be above being tempted by something so blatant.

He wasn’t.

Well, when it came to crime, he was above it, but when it came to Melody, he wasn’t. He typed in:

I don’t have any plans. Sounds good.

Hadleigh’s so tired of eating out she just wants me to grill a few steaks—prove to her that she’s back in Wyoming. Bring Harley.

Muggles, Harley and Tripp’s dog, Ridley. Those three were as much fun to watch together as a fireworks show.

What else can I bring?

Yourself, and maybe a bottle of that wine the girls like.

He drew a blank.

As if Tripp could read his mind, he typed in:

Ask Mel or Bex. I don’t know, either.

They’d obviously been friends too long.

Will do.

It was pigheaded of him, but he wasn’t about to call Melody, since he’d made the grand declaration that it was her turn to call him, so he shot Bex a text, instead. While waiting for the information, he answered several messages from the Bliss County courthouse and went through his mail.

Bex came through with the name of the wine about an hour later, and added a sly:

We’ll pour Mel an extra big glass and mellow her out.

Nice to have friends in your corner. With a grin she couldn’t, of course, see, he shot back:

I’ll buy two bottles.

CHAPTER NINE

T
HE RANCH LOOKED
prosperous, but then again it would. After Tripp had returned to Wyoming, he’d sunk a considerable amount of cash into reviving his stepfather’s property, and being Tripp, he’d done it right.

Melody drove her yellow BMW by a pasture of grazing cattle and winced at the dust that was no doubt coating her beloved car.

A glance in the rearview mirror told her that, on the bright side, her light, barely there lipstick, a subtle pink, was fine, but also, that was unmistakably Spence’s truck coming up the drive behind her.

It wasn’t as though she was surprised, because she knew he was helping Tripp and Hadleigh out with the upcoming party. Still, she silently berated herself for the way her pulse accelerated.

He pulled in beside her and slid out of the truck in one lithe movement. Harley bounded out and dashed over with his usual enthusiasm. She slammed the car door on her skirt and would have dropped the potato casserole she’d brought if Spence hadn’t been quick on the draw. He caught it and said one word to the dog, who obediently sat down.

“He’s in love. What can I say, except please forgive his sad lack of manners. He’s taken a shine to you.”

Her face on fire, she muttered something akin to a thank you, managed to get the door open and free herself. Harley assisted by licking her ankles. She finally met Spence’s amused eyes. “I’ve always been cursed with coordination issues.”

“Well, it would be unfair to every other female on this planet if you were beautiful, smart
and
coordinated,” he said gallantly, but his mouth was twitching with laughter. “I’ll just carry this in for you and keep my dog under control.”

He could hold the dish in one palm and balance it perfectly. And she’d made such an awkward move. She wanted to strangle him.

“Thanks.”

“No problem.”

He was as devastating as ever in the usual denim shirt, jeans and boots, and she’d give him credit for the way his shirt exactly matched his eyes, but doubted it was planned. Spence could get up in the morning, put on any old thing and look terrific.

Damn him.

Was it that she was searching for any reason to be mad at him?

Well, that one seemed as good as any. He was just too handsome, and she resented him for it.

“I hope this is that potato thing you used to make.” He waited for her to go up the steps first. “The one with all the cheese. I have to admit to a mighty weakness for that.”

It was, and she’d remembered. She crossed the wide porch. “Could be.”

“I think that dish is what made me fall in love with you in the first place.”

She sent him a sharp look as she put her hand on the screen-door knob. His expression was completely bland, but it was feigned innocence. It had to be.

She wasn’t in the mood for games, and he needed to know it. “Spence, let’s get something straight. The morning after the wedding happened. I accept that, and I take my share of the responsibility. But you need to do that, too. I’m going to be as clear as possible. I am not interested in one of those casual relationships you’re so famous for. As
you
so kindly pointed out, I’m not twenty anymore.”

He stood there, still expertly balancing the dish, unfazed. “Nope. You aren’t the girl who thought it would be a wonderful idea to elope years ago. You’re a woman, Mel. Can we sit down and talk about this rationally?”

“And discuss what?”

“Us.”

At that key moment, Hadleigh appeared in the doorway, whipping open the screen door, offering Melody a big hug. She had a fine tan, and her topaz eyes sparkled. “I missed you.”

Melody hugged her right back. “I missed you, too. You look fantastic.”

“Hey, what am I, chopped liver?” Spence said it mildly and also received a hug, still irritatingly able to hold on to the casserole dish with no visible effort.

Never, even under the pain of impending death, would Melody admit she’d made it just because she knew he’d be there. The man was hopeless when it came to potatoes. It was a weakness she had shamelessly exploited; she’d even piled on extra cheese.

But...
us
?

Was he serious?
How
serious?

“Let me put this in the kitchen and make a quick trip back to the truck.” He deposited the dish on the stove and went out again.

Melody looked around. It was a true ranch kitchen, but Tripp had remodeled it when he’d returned to Wyoming, and the spruce cabinets, butcher-block island and white marble countertops with a farmhouse sink, suited the place. All the appliances had custom cabinet covers, too, so the rustic feel wasn’t compromised. Hadleigh had hung one of her gorgeous quilts on the wall by the eat-in area of the kitchen, and it was all, in a word, stunning.

“Looks great.” Melody meant it.

Hadleigh’s smile was wry. “The man paid more attention to the rundown barn than the most important part of the house, so he gave me this kitchen reno as a wedding present.”

“Great choice.”

“I think he just wants me to cook for him.”

Melody grinned. “Really? I remember you made great frozen pizza when we were in college.”

“I liked your boxed mac and cheese, too.” Hadleigh was never shy about shooting back a response. “Bex is on her way. She just called.”

The door opened as Spence returned, and chaos ensued. It was with no small satisfaction that Melody noticed that he was almost knocked off his feet since the doorway was only so big and three decent-sized dogs decided to come in with him at the same time.

He was carrying a sack and nearly dropped it before managing to get through the melee and deposit it on the counter.

Whatever happened with the rest of the evening, this was a high point, Melody thought. It was endearing to see Muggles, Ridley and Harley greet each other, but they were bouncing off the walls. Canine love abounded to the extent that Tripp, who came in the back door at that moment, his dark blond hair rumpled by the Wyoming wind, hauled the three of them outside before they could break something. He smelled like grill smoke and fresh air, and gave Melody a kiss on the cheek. “Bex just pulled up.” Then he pointed at the dogs. “Out, you three hooligans. This isn’t a circus, it’s a house. Let’s go. You can play outside.”

The voice of stern male authority worked wonders, and they obediently went out the back, trotting single file.

Both Melody and Hadleigh were laughing when Bex came in, Spence holding the door for her. “What’s so funny?”

Hadleigh shook her head, leaning against the counter. “Just the dogs. Ooh, please tell me that’s your fruit salad.”

Bex plopped the bowl on the table. “Of course. I look forward to the challenge when someone asks me to bring something else. I swear I can cook.”

Melody and Hadleigh looked at each other and said, “Won’t happen.”

At that point, Spence set two bottles of their favorite wine on the counter. “Enjoy, ladies. This is for you. I’m going to go out and help Tripp.”

“Help him do what?” Melody asked. “Drink beer?”

“Grill. Control the dogs. I don’t know.” The charm in his apologetic smile was palpable and affected each one of them before he walked out the door.

He wielded that darned smile like a loaded gun.

Melody said to her two friends, “Crack open that wine, please. I think I need some.”

They laughed out loud, but at least Hadleigh hurried to comply, taking several antique glasses from the cupboard and handling the corkscrew with impressive skill.

Melody knew the glasses had belonged to Tripp’s mother, inherited from her grandmother. She begged, “Can I have something plastic, please? Those glasses terrify me. I’m so afraid I’ll break one.”

“Special occasion.” Hadleigh shook her head. “Special glasses required. My husband always tells me that she insisted all her fancy dishes be used. I’m
married
to her son. Time for a toast for the three of us, and let’s pretend she’s here.”

They even poured a fourth glass and solemnly faced each other. Bex said, “Here’s to Tripp’s mom—and the marriage pact.”

Glasses clinked. “Hear, hear.”

There was silence as each took a solid gulp.

“As for the wedding, we were there for the festive event.” Bex’s smile was half-mocking. “Remember us? In those dresses? We’re going to get you back for those, by the way.”

“It’s summer. They looked...summery.” Hadleigh might be protesting, but her expression was full of mirth. “And feel free to retaliate. I thought they were pretty, but I’ll admit the color could have been better.”

“You did that on purpose!” Both Melody and Bex said, perched on stools in the remodeled kitchen, their mouths open.

“I suppose it could be seen that way. I swear I thought you’d both say no to the yellow, and I guess that’s why I picked them. When you manned up and accepted that color without a single complaint, it was just too funny. I couldn’t resist going ahead and letting you wear them.”