Your'e Still the One (4 page)

She stopped at the dining room table, covered with filled ice buckets, glasses, chilling wine and a big bowl of Trace’s pinkish-orange punch sitting next to the leftover birthday cake. The lettering was mostly gone and you couldn’t tell the cake was for her. She was glad about that. Though not so happy to see that the beer hadn’t been replenished in the silver cooler.

“Okay,” she said, picking up glasses and holding them up to the light just to be sure they were clean. “We have more beer in the family room wet bar, also a blender of margarita mix in the kitchen. And this? My brother’s 100 proof...frankly, I’m not sure what to call it. He says punch.”

“Let me guess....” Matt smiled. “Trace?”

Rachel nodded. “He was only seventeen when you left, and still you know.”

Matt’s smile faded. The cautious way he met her eyes removed any doubt he was thinking about that night—him leaving, not saying a word, the inadequate note he’d left for her....

If they were alone she’d tell him it was okay. He didn’t have to worry. It wouldn’t be a lie, but seeing each other again after all those years was stirring up crazy and unexpected feelings. At least for her.

Oh, God...an annoying thought struck her. She’d done the math. She could’ve made any sort of joke about Trace not changing. Most people wouldn’t remember it had been exactly ten years since Matt left. But she did. Ten years and one day.

Jeez, what was wrong with her? Until she’d seen him earlier, she really hadn’t been thinking about him. Even if she had, too bad. He had Nikki. And she was gorgeous with her long dark hair, olive skin and light brown eyes.

“So...” Rachel pretended to study the table and cleared her throat. “What will it be?”

“I’ve changed my mind about the beer,” Nikki said. “I might need the punch.” She glanced at Matt, who eyed her with a touch of amusement and an almost imperceptible shake of his head.

Their private look depressed Rachel. It shouldn’t have—she had no business having any reaction. Carefully keeping her gaze lowered, she grabbed the tongs to put ice in the glass.

“I can do that myself,” Nikki said. “Matt, I know you want a beer, so why don’t you two go get it. I’ll find you.”

Rachel looked up. He was watching her with blue eyes she remembered differently. Had she been too young to notice the smoldering intensity? “Beer?”

“Unless your brothers wiped them out.”

“They better not have.” She moved around the table, smiling at Nikki. “Help yourself to the cake. Or anything in the kitchen,” she added, feeling a bit guilty.

It would make sense to wait for her since it took seconds to ladle punch into a glass. But Rachel wanted Matt to herself, even if only for two minutes.

“Thanks,” Nikki said. “The cake does look good. I just might have a piece.”

Matt’s brows drew together in a puzzled frown directed at Nikki, who ignored him and switched places with Rachel so she could get to the punch bowl.

“You want to wait for her?” Rachel asked, unnerved to be near enough to see a small scar on his beard-roughened chin.

“Nah, she’s okay. I never have to worry about that one.”

Except he did, Rachel could see it in his lingering gaze, and she felt horrible for being disappointed. But when he touched the small of her back as she slipped past him, she felt something else altogether.

It was crazy, inappropriate, unacceptable, yet she couldn’t make herself unfeel the sizzling electric shock that had flowed from his palm up her spine. She sincerely hoped it was the cumulative effect of the day’s booze causing her to act like a dope. She wasn’t the type of woman to covet a man who was taken. He was with Nikki, though Rachel didn’t believe they were married, and not just because of the lack of rings. It was simply a gut feeling. Had she kept her mouth shut instead of babbling when she first saw them, he would’ve introduced Nikki himself.

“I don’t know any of these people, do I?”

Rachel started. It wasn’t his question that made her jump, but the proximity of his mouth to her ear...his warm breath gliding over her skin. She’d already led him through the living room without realizing it. The guests were all staring at him—of course they were, they were women.

Her birthday celebration had included them, and they’d heard the dinner talk. Now they were putting two and two together, and they were checking out the hot, sexy rodeo star.

“You don’t,” she said, pausing to clear her head enough to ensure her voice and brain were in sync. Obviously he didn’t know about the dude ranch part of the Sundance. “So much has happened just in the past year....”

They had to sidestep Carla, a guest from Indianapolis, who blocked their path to the family room. She got in a breathy, “Hi,” aimed at Matt before they could pass her.

“Evenin’,” he said, giving her a polite smile.

“Have some cake, Carla,” Rachel said pleasantly, but stayed on course. She tilted her head closer to Matt. “We’re going to keep walking or else you can forget about your beer.”

“Yeah, I know,” he said, which probably shouldn’t have made Rachel smile because his grim tone indicated he might be sick of too much female attention at this point in his career.

She wondered how he’d handled the buckle-bunny phenomena. Although the rodeo scene had never interested her, she knew about the groupies who followed the circuit. It didn’t matter if the guy was attractive. If he was at the top of his game, he was getting a whole lot of hotel room keys stuffed in his pockets.

For Matt, it had to be a double whammy. He’d always been good-looking with his sun-lightened hair and beautiful blue eyes. It wasn’t just her opinion. Half the girls in high school, all four grades, had secretly crushed on him. Yet he’d only had one girlfriend. They’d both been sophomores, as serious as two fifteen-year-olds can be...until his father had humiliated him in front of Emily and then ran her off the Lone Wolf.

Now, almost thirty, Matt was even better-looking than he’d been at nineteen. The years had given his face more character, with fine lines at the outside corners of his eyes, grooves along his sexy mouth that apparently she’d been unable to suitably appreciate in her youth. His nose seemed different, though, a bit crooked.

“Rachel, wait.” He caught her arm just outside the family room.

Her heart nearly stopped. Had he noticed her staring? If he felt compelled to point out he was with Nikki and not interested in straying, Rachel would just die. Right here. Right now, on her twenty-sixth birthday. So sad.

She did as he asked, but he didn’t let go. Staring into each other’s eyes, they stood in a small semi-private foyer that was the result of an addition to the original house.

Matt smiled. “It’s good to see you.” He stroked his palm down her arm to her hand, and lightly squeezed.

“Yeah, you, too.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t remember.”

“What?”

He lowered his head, slowly closing the distance between their mouths.

Rachel sucked in a breath so hard she thought she’d pass out. Holy crap, he was going to kiss her....

He moved his head, just a tad, and pressed a kiss to her cheek. “Happy birthday, kiddo.”

4

R
ACHEL
DIDN
’
T
CARE
THAT
he was so handsome he made her thighs clench. Or that there were far too many witnesses in the next room. She was going to strangle him.

Kiddo
.

A barely contained growl chafed her throat. This was like adding the proverbial salt to the wound.

He had to know...the way he’d leaned into her...the dark intensity of his eyes...well, naturally she’d expected an entirely different kind of kiss.

Dammit, she didn’t understand this grown-up version of Matt at all. Her teasing and flirting used to earn her slow bashful smiles. She’d enjoyed having the upper hand.

Or had she? As a kid had she gotten his reaction to her mixed up? Maybe those smiles had been patronizing. Her breath caught painfully somewhere between her lungs and her throat.

“Thanks,” she said, smiled brightly and led him into the family room, announcing, “Look who’s here.”

Cole and Trace both glanced up from their game of pool. Jamie was there, too. Just in case Jamie was making faces at her, Rachel kept her eyes averted.

“Hey, Matt.” Cole leaned his stick against the wall, and stuck out his hand as he came around the table. “Good to see you, buddy.”

Trace passed his cue to Sandy, a pretty blonde who’d checked in yesterday. Her quieter friend, Krista, was already holding Trace’s beer.

“I should’ve known you hustlers were back here.” Matt shook each of their hands, and acknowledged the women with a polite nod.

“Hustlers, huh?” Sandy baited Trace, while she discreetly sized up Matt.

“Now that’s what you call sour grapes. Matt can’t play worth spit. We used to humiliate him.”

“Yep.” Matt laughed. “I still suck at it.” He stuffed his hands in his jeans’ pockets and leaned a shoulder against the wall. “You guys still keep a running score?”

Cole snorted, and eyed Trace. “No. Some of us are busy and don’t have enough time to play these days.”

“Translation...” Trace said with a cocky smile, “I’m still whipping him.”

Leaping to Cole’s defense, Jamie let out a haughty “You do not.”

“That’s my girl.” Chuckling, Cole caught her hand. “Matt, this is Jamie.”

“I see things have changed around here.” Matt briefly raised his brows at Cole. “Nice meeting you, Jamie.”

“Yes, likewise.”

“Now you know why my brother has no time for pool.” Trace reclaimed the cue from Sandy. She gave him a stiff smile and a pointed look. “Oh, yeah, Matt, this—” Trace paused, a fleeting expression of panic on his face. “You want a beer?” Trace didn’t wait for the answer. He flashed a winning smile at the tall blonde. “Darlin’, you mind getting Matt a cold one?”

“Sure.”

Rachel and Jamie exchanged glances. They knew Trace had already forgotten the woman’s name. Rachel pressed her lips together and lowered her gaze to the eight ball in the corner, trying not to laugh. She should bail him out. Not to be nice, he deserved to squirm, but it wasn’t fair to let their guests feel uncomfortable.

She moved around the pool table and picked up two empty glasses sitting on the window ledge. “Sandy, Krista, would you like another drink?”

“Not me, thanks.” Krista exhaled loudly. “Trace’s punch nearly did me in.”

“Amen,” Sandy added, pulling a bottle out of the small fridge.

“Yeah,” Rachel said. “I don’t think we’ll let him play bartender again.” Okay, she’d done her part. Let Trace figure out who was who.

Matt pushed off the wall to take the beer Sandy passed him. “Thanks.” He gave her a smile that could melt a brick. “I don’t recall so many pretty women in Blackfoot Falls before I left.”

“Handsome and charming.” Sandy’s smile dazzled. “Why did I not know this about Montana men?”

Rachel tried really hard not to roll her eyes. Good thing.

Sandy glanced at her. “There’s only one beer left. I’ll restock if you tell me where to get more.”

“You’re a guest. I’ll get it.”

“No, it’s your birthday,” Jamie cut in. “They’re in the kitchen. Sandy and Krista, come help me.”

With the other two trailing behind her, Jamie walked past Rachel and gave her an OMG look no one else could see.

“Well, shit,” Trace said as soon as the women were out of earshot. “Look at you, Gunderson, making the ladies hot and bothered. You don’t get enough action on the road?”

“You seem to be doing okay,” Matt said, laughing. “And you don’t have to get thrown from a bull.”

“But he’s sure been flinging a lot of it around,” Cole said, and took his next shot.

Trace glanced toward the door. “Hell, those women are wearing me out. No joke.”

Rachel grunted. “They just arrived yesterday.”

“You know what I mean.” Trace took a swig of beer. “Good time for you to show up, Matt. You’ll take the heat off.”

“Oh, please, you’re not fooling anyone.” Rachel knew it was true. Trace had gotten sick of the attention. But she wanted to steer the conversation away from Matt and his sex life. Just the hint of it grated on her nerves. “You’ve been the main attraction. I really should pay you a bonus.”

“No, thanks. What I need is time off for damn good behavior.”

Cole laughed at that. “I don’t think you want to go down that road.” He eyed Trace as if he knew something Rachel didn’t. Did Cole honestly believe she didn’t know Trace had played loose with the rules? She suspected he’d slept with a guest or three in the past few months, but he’d been discreet. “Your shot.” Cole stood back to give Trace room and looked at Matt. “I reckon you came to see your father.”

He hesitated, then took a long pull of beer. “Yeah, I’m here because of Wallace. Where’s Jesse?”

Clearly Matt wanted the subject of his father dropped. “He’s away overnight,” Rachel said. “In Wyoming, I think. He’s an animal-rescue volunteer.”

“Good for him.”

No one said anything while Trace crouched, squinting at the eight ball, trying to line up his next shot. A giddy laugh from the living room distracted him. He missed and cursed under his breath.

“What’s going on around here?” Matt asked. “Who are these women?”

“Wow, that’s right, you don’t know about our new venture.” Rachel sighed. “I started to tell you earlier. We’re trying our hand at the dude ranch business.”

“Not we,” Trace said.

Rachel gave him the evil eye.

Matt frowned, processing the information, then turned and swung a look toward the living room. “Why?”

“Money,” Rachel said quietly. “This economy has been tough on ranchers.” She shrugged, and glanced over her shoulder to make sure no guests were within earshot. “This won’t be forever.”

Cole and Trace had already returned to their game, but Matt looked troubled. Thoughtfully sipping his beer, he kept his gaze on the pool table, but his mind was obviously working overtime. This wasn’t the time or place to get into this particular topic. Not that she ever wanted to discuss the family’s financial woes with Matt or anyone.

While he was distracted by her brothers, it was nice to have a few minutes to check him out. His chest was broader now, so were his shoulders. He’d always been lean with just enough muscle to make her want to skim her palms over his chest and back. But he was a bull rider now. And staying on such a powerful animal required strength and balance. It meant being in top physical condition. Matt looked the part.

She drew in a long slow breath, her gaze falling to his exposed forearms. He’d turned back the sleeves of his navy blue shirt since he’d come inside or else she would’ve noticed all that sleek corded muscle before now. Even the denim couldn’t hide his strong thighs, and God, she really had to stop looking.

“I was hoping I’d find y’all back here.”

Nikki’s voice startled her. Rachel abruptly turned to the door, guilt warming her cheeks because she’d completely forgotten about the woman. “Oh, good, you found us,” Rachel said lamely.

“This is a cool house.” Nikki smiled, not looking as though she felt neglected or annoyed. She had a beer in her hand, not in a glass but the bottle, half of it already gone.

“Hey, Nik.” Matt held a hand out to her, and she slipped past Rachel to go to his side.

“Hi,” she said to Cole and Trace before Matt could introduce them—probably because they’d both stopped playing to look at her. Trace automatically set down his cue.

“This is my friend, Nikki,” Matt said, then pointed his bottle. “That’s Cole. And Trace.”

Okay, he’d said friend, not wife, though Rachel had already decided they weren’t married. But did friend mean girlfriend? Friend with benefits? What?

“Y’all are Rachel’s brothers.” Nikki shook back her shiny sable hair, a practical gesture and not the least flirty. But then she was one of those women who would look sexy flossing her teeth. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“Hello, Nikki.” Cole set aside his beer just as Jamie appeared holding a six-pack in each hand and cradling one to her side. “And that’s Jamie, my better half.”

“We’ve already met,” Nikki said, passing her bottle to Matt and then taking the extra six-pack from Jamie. “You should’ve told me...I would’ve helped.”

Rachel started to jump in but realized they didn’t need her. That didn’t stop Trace from rushing to the fridge ahead of them and opening the door. He crouched in front of the two empty bottom shelves letting Jamie pass him the bottles, which he laid on their sides to maximize space.

“You putting anything else in here?” he asked before getting up. The question was meant for Jamie and Rachel, but his gaze lingered on Nikki.

He was cool about it, not making an ass out of himself, or being obvious, but Rachel knew him too well. For one thing, as willing as he was to help when she asked for it, he wasn’t one to volunteer.

“Sandy and Krista are bringing two more,” Jamie said. “But I think they took a detour first.”

Trace nodded and straightened. Rachel saw the set of his jaw and knew he’d forgotten about the other two and probably hoped they stayed detoured.

The room was spacious even with the massive stone fireplace, pool table, overstuffed leather couch and club chairs. But the way the furniture was set up, if you weren’t playing pool, you either stood and watched or sat by the fire. It had never been a problem when it was just the family, but since taking in guests who often converged here after dinner, Rachel had to rethink the arrangement.

After their game was finished, Cole and Trace quit playing in favor of talking to Matt and Nikki. They moved to the couch and chairs along with Jamie, and the table was quickly claimed by a pair of wranglers who’d come in after dinner and were keeping the guests entertained.

Sandy and Krista seemed determined to stick close to Trace, and though Rachel could tell he was unhappy with the situation, there was really nothing she could do about it.

Three women had accompanied the wranglers, and a few minutes later, two more had wandered in to cheer the men on. With so many people squeezed in, the room was noisy and too warm, and making Rachel itchy for some fresh air and solitude. As soon as she could slip away, she picked up empty glasses and carried them to the kitchen.

Relieved to be alone, she opened the dishwasher. The sink had been clear an hour ago when her mom had gone to lie down because of a headache. But dishes and glasses had accumulated and Rachel started loading them, glad to be able to hear herself think. It had been one hell of a day...a birthday she wasn’t likely to forget.

Matt Gunderson, here in the flesh. It still didn’t seem real. Every time her gaze had touched on him she’d received a small jolt of awareness. One minute he’d laugh or turn his head a certain way, looking like the old Matt, and the next, he was a handsome stranger who made her pulse race.

She would have to look him up on Google later. Just out of curiosity. Whether the thing he had with Nikki was serious or not, Rachel was quite clear where she stood in his eyes. Damn, but she really wished he hadn’t given her that peck on the cheek. If he hadn’t, at least she could’ve fantasized about him a while longer.

“Need help?”

Matt.

Aware her butt was sticking up in the air as she tried to reach the back row of the dishwasher, she calmly deposited the plate in a suitable slot, then straightened.

When she turned around he didn’t try to pretend he hadn’t been checking out her ass. Which just confused her. “Good timing on your part. I’m almost done.”

“You’re the birthday girl. You shouldn’t have kitchen duty.”

She shrugged. “Just another day.”

He set his empty bottle on the counter. “So you’ve stopped counting down right after Christmas?”

She smiled, surprised he remembered. “Every kid loves their birthday. I’m not a kid anymore.”

“No,” he said, his voice lowered, his gaze sweeping her lips. “You’re not.”

Rachel grabbed the dish towel off the counter, needing something to do. “You want another beer?”

“I’ve had two already. That’s enough.”

“I guess you have to keep yourself in good physical condition.” It was a perfectly innocent and natural observation. Except she panned the breadth of his shoulders, and her lips parted without permission. “Where’s Nikki?”

He motioned with his head. “She’s still talking to your brothers and Jamie. Cole has himself a real sweetheart. I can tell she’s good for him. He’s lightened up.”

“True. Jamie’s terrific. I’m glad she’s here. Wait a minute— You left Nikki with Trace?” She laughed. “Are you crazy?”

Matt grinned. “She can take care of herself.”

“Yeah, but—” Rachel turned away.

He caught her chin and drew her eyes back to his. “There’s nothing going on with Nikki and me. Okay?”

“None of my business.” Oh, hell. She had to ask.... “Then why would you bring her home?”

He let his hand fall away, but continued to study her face. After a drawn-out silence, he said, “It’s complicated.”

“Fair enough.” They were still standing close, and maybe she should’ve stepped back, but her brain was too busy processing this new information. He’d made a point of clarifying his relationship with Nikki.... “You sure don’t owe me an explanation.”