The Marriage Charm (Bliss County 2) (15 page)

“Get off me.” She shoved at his shoulders, but he might as well have been one of the mountains she admired every day. Immovable. Worse, he had a smile on his all-too-handsome face.

Then he kissed her.

Oh, she saw it coming; he made sure of that, slowly lowering his head, letting her feel his breath against her lips before he delivered the real deal. Persuasive and warm, his lips molded to hers, took possession, and her bones seemed to melt as his tongue began a leisurely exploration of her mouth.

Her hands, which had been pressed against his wide shoulders in a futile protest, loosened, and her arms slid around his neck in a repeat performance of what had happened at his ranch.

He wasn’t irresistible, she reminded herself, more like a virus she couldn’t seem to shake.

The bracelet she wore around her wrist, the one with the charms she’d created for the pact, gleamed against his dark hair when she opened her eyes. The weight of his lean body was pleasantly balanced, and there were several horses stretching their heads over their stalls, watching the strange antics of their human counterparts with equine amusement—or so Melody assumed.

His gaze held hers before he kissed her again, this time with less tenderness, the heat level so combustible she was surprised the straw didn’t start to smoke.

“Where is it, Daddy? Where is it?”

The sound of an excited childish voice came through, but Melody barely registered it. The next second, Spence had broken off the kiss, muttering something she didn’t quite catch. Suddenly three rowdy dogs and two boys came spilling into the barn, tumbling all over themselves, followed by Tate Calder. Melody could see his expression change as he noticed them in the straw. At least they were still fully clothed and not
doing
anything. He said hastily, “Oops, sorry, just riding herd on the crowd. We’re out of here. Didn’t mean to, er, interrupt anything. They can look at the colt some other time.”

Spence recovered with disquieting ease, lifting her to her feet in one swift movement and shaking his head to dislodge the straw still clinging to his hair, all the while acting as if nothing happened. “No problem. Come on, boys, want to see the foal? Right over here.”

That left Melody plucking the straw out of her own hair, with the dogs milling at her feet. She coughed in embarrassment, her face hot, and saw the amused look in Tate’s eyes. She didn’t even try to make up an excuse. “Um. Spence and I go back a ways.”

“If you think I didn’t cotton on to that before we all barged in here, you’re selling me short.” He had a nice easy manner. “My lips are sealed.”

At that point she didn’t know whether to question Hadleigh’s efforts to set her up with this man or condemn them. Bex was a peacekeeper, an even-keeled influence on everyone around her. He seemed the same diplomatic type, and maybe he’d be a good match for her friend. Or maybe they were too much alike.

Once Bex had been in love with Will, and he’d died on deployment overseas, which had sent her life into a downward spiral. She’d turned her grief into a devotion to building her business.

As for Spence and her, they were
definitely
too alike. Pigheaded, her grandmother would have labeled it.

She listened to Spence with the boys, watching him out of the corner of her eye as he picked them up one at a time so they could look at the colt. He was good with them. The mare trusted him, too. You could see it; she didn’t balk at letting the boys pat her head and even tug at her mane.

The best indication of character, Melody had always thought, was how an animal reacted to a person. Spence inspired that kind of trust in the people of Mustang Creek, too.

The feline triumvirate had tolerated him, and they were a demanding bunch, no doubt about it—excellent judges of character.

“Tripp said he’s a good guy, and now I see why they’re best friends.” Tate shrugged casually. “Obviously, I trust his judgment or Hogan wouldn’t be holding my children.”

“Well, there’s that chief-of-police thing he’s got going,” she said, her throat a little constricted. “He’s trustworthy. Your children are in good hands. Literally,” she added, smiling as she glanced at the younger boy. Tate held him by the waist, and the child leaned into the stall, intently studying the foal.

Tate turned back toward the house. “Ya’ll mind walking the hooligans back? I’ll go thank Hadleigh and Tripp and pack up the truck. The boys love to help me. It only takes twice as long when they do.”

“No problem.”

Bex was doomed, Melody thought as she watched him walk away. That was a fine cowboy ass, and he was unquestionably her friend’s type. He wore his hat well, too, she observed, tilted forward at exactly the right angle.

Melody knew that
she
was doomed, too.

There was something about Spence and those boys together that went straight through her. Straight to her heart.

Would he hold their children that way?

She was hopeless.

Or, worse, hopeful.

They walked back to the house, the boys between them, each of them holding the hand of one child. The dogs gamboled at their heels, and the night air held the sweetness of summer.

Hadleigh, Bex and Tripp were still on the porch, probably finalizing the party details. Tripp asked the boys as they climbed the steps, “So what do you think of the ranch’s newest colt?”

“Really cool,” the older one answered. Then he announced, “They were kissing.”

For the second time that evening, Melody blushed as if she was sixteen. Talk about wanting to sink through the floorboards. The worst part was that none of the adults present seemed to need any clarification, despite the leap from
cool
foal to whoever was kissing whom. Hadleigh was the one who patiently explained, “Well, Spence and Melody like each other.”

Bex looked at Melody pointedly and added, “Sometimes they forget that, but yeah, they do like each other.”

Tripp got diplomatically to his feet. “Spence, want to walk out to where we’re going to have the bonfire and we can set it up?”

Leaving her to the tender mercies of Bex and Hadleigh? Melody didn’t think so. She said in a rush, “I have to finish the lanterns, and I have a new commission, so time is tight. Tate will be right back for the boys. Dinner was wonderful. See you tomorrow night.”

As she beat a hasty retreat, she heard her hostess call out, “Coward. We’re
going
to talk about this.”

*

S
PENCE SWUNG THE
wood splitter with a heave that might just have been the result of unresolved sexual frustration. What might have happened if the kids and the dogs hadn’t arrived when they did was anyone’s guess, but
his
guess was a roll in the hay. The log cracked with a satisfying sound.

Tripp picked up the wood and gave him an appraising look. “So, you have some kind of plan?”

It was a warm night; Spence unbuttoned his shirt to his waist and pulled it off. He was sweating, and it wasn’t entirely due to the exertion or the temperature. “Plans for what?”

“How to convince Mel you’re the one.”

“What’s makes you think...” he started to say then shook his head. “Strike that, I already know what you think, and you aren’t off track. I hurt her once. She doesn’t trust me. All the gossip in this town doesn’t help my case, either. I’m considered a player, but most of it’s undeserved.” He briefly rested the ax on the stump and studied his best friend. “You know me, Tripp. I’m not a saint or anything. I’ve slept with a few lovely ladies, but none of it counted for much. Melody’s always been different. Special. We had an argument, if you can believe this, over how many women I’ve slept with, because I couldn’t remember off the top of my head. So I said something stupid—thirty-six—then told her I was talking about my age. I was. I meant, in a sort of convoluted way, that I’m old enough, mature enough, to act responsibly toward any woman I date. Any woman I’ve ever dated. It isn’t that there’s a long list, and I don’t put notches in my bedpost or anything like that.”

Tripp heaved up another log and set it in place. “I do know you. That’s what this conversation is about. Let’s get back to my original question. How’s this gonna go down? I’ll be blunt here and tell you exactly how my wife sees it all. Nine years ago you had a fling with Mel for a few months, then you dumped her, and now you want another shot at it. Why should she give you a second chance?”

Spence picked up the ax and defended his position, saying flatly, “It wasn’t a fling,” before the ax came down with a solid chunk, and wood chips flew.

“I realize that.” Splitting and stacking wood on a summer night was hard work, and Tripp evidently decided Spence had the right idea, because he took off his shirt and tossed it aside. “But it’s taken almost a decade for you to admit it.”

“That’s not true.” He swung at the next log his friend put in place. “I’ve never denied it. Look, we’ve already had this discussion. More than once.”

“Are you going to ask her to marry you?”

That was blunt, even for Tripp. Spence paused to catch his breath. “I’d answer that, but can you swear you won’t tell Hadleigh?”

“No.”

He said, “Then this conversation is over.”

Tripp looked irritated, but they’d been friends long enough that he backed off. “Fine,” he said gruffly. “But a man can’t kiss a girl in a barn one day and walk away the next.”

“You want me to bring over those extra camp chairs I have in my barn?” Spence pointedly changed the subject.

Tripp went along with it, stacking more split wood. “That’s a good idea.”

“Moe Radner might pitch in, too. He spends every day off hiking and camping out and has a lot of equipment.” The deputy would be more than willing to lend them outdoor furniture for the party. “By the way, he wants us to organize a trail ride for some of the local boys, courtesy of the police department and the ranger service. He has a lot of buddies who work for various parks. He once told me up front that he was headed down the wrong path as a kid until he discovered he loved riding and camping. He wants to do that for kids who might be in the same kind of situation he was. I agree.”

“I’ll contribute money for a good cause any day. Even lend you a horse or two.” Tripp wiped his brow.

“Well, this must be my lucky day.” Hadleigh’s voice, tinged with amusement, stopped their conversation as she strolled up, her long brunette hair shining. “There’s nothing like two bare-chested cowboys to make a girl’s heart flutter.”

“
My
bare chest better be the only one that makes your heart flutter,” Tripp said to her with a pretend glower. “I take it everyone’s gone?”

Her gold eyes showed a glimmer of laughter. “Yep. Melody swears she has more to do than humanly possible, Tate had a couple of sleepy kids to get into bed and Bex has some sort of corporate meeting first thing in the morning.”

Spence figured that the way the two of them were looking at each other was his cue to exit, stage left. He cleared his throat and put down the log splitter. “I should collect Harley and go, too. I’ll see you both tomorrow night, and thanks for dinner. I’ll bring those chairs.”

He shrugged back into his shirt, whistled for his dog, and a few minutes later was in his truck, heading down the driveway.

For the briefest of moments, he considered calling Melody, but decided against it, knowing he’d be shot down if he pushed too hard. So he just drove home, Harley curled up in the passenger seat. That dog was really worn out.

He suspected Harley would sleep well.

Somehow he doubted the same would be true for him...

CHAPTER ELEVEN

O
CCASIONALLY THINGS
JUST
fell into place.

Melody thought the price for this diamond was a little high, but then again...

It was perfect. And, after all, Mrs. A. had requested perfection.

She said to Ronald Keith, “Tell me what you know about this stone.”

Old and spare, he was the canniest antiques dealer in Bliss County, and he knew everyone, so she was able to get the stone’s provenance. Wearing his usual patterned flannel shirt even in mid-summer, he leaned forward with a conspiratorial air, resting his bony elbows on the glass case. There was no one else in the shop, but he kept his voice low. Melody would have found it funny, but she was too entranced with the diamond. Its cut and brilliance were too striking to pass up.

“Well, word has it that it’s the diamond Rochester Pierce gave his wife the day he asked her to marry him.”

She managed to wrench her gaze away from the jewel for a moment. It was really gorgeous, the setting old-fashioned enough to support Ronald’s claim. “The senator?”

“That’s the one.” Ronald straightened. “It’s got good karma, too, since they were happily married for over half a century. The estate sale was pretty brutal. Not all their children are still alive, and the grandchildren bickered so much that all of it went up for auction.”

She was really entranced. The diamond was of rare quality, at least a carat and a half. A little showier than she’d planned, but the setting could be redone, or even kept for a different piece.

She could only hope that Mrs. Arbuckle meant it when she’d said price was no object.

On the other hand, Melody would have bought this, anyway. She could set it and resell it for a small fortune.

She dealt with Ronald quite a lot and knew he was an honest man. She doubted he was asking enough for this ring. He’d certainly recognized its quality. “I’ll take it.”

“Good.” He smiled. “That’s why I called you. I didn’t think anyone else would appreciate it and make it shine again, like you will.”

“Flatterer.”

They always flirted a little; it was part of the negotiation.

He didn’t hide his grin. “What can I say? I like pretty girls.”

She flashed him a smile in return. He was charming in his own way, although old enough to be her father. “I’m light-years away from being a girl, but I thank you for thinking of me. Our usual deal?”

He nodded. She often paid him a percentage of her commission when he brought her special finds.