Читать книгу The Texas Rancher's Vow - Cathy Thacker Gillen - Страница 16

Chapter Eight

Matt knew when two people had been caught red-handed. His dad and Jen were definitely up to something. What, Matt didn’t know. Despite the fact that she’d had her hand on his father’s knee, whatever was going on didn’t seem romantic or sexual. And yet there was an undeniable air of intimacy in the room.

Flushing, Jen stood up and, with more grace than Matt would have expected, under the circumstances, moved toward the drafting table. “Your father was a little overcome by the sketches I just showed him.”

She walked over to Matt, drawings in hand.

Matt noted that his father wasn’t looking at him. Rather, he was sitting with his palm planted firmly on the knee Jen had just been touching. Emmett also seemed curiously transfixed on Jen. It was almost as if he wasn’t sure what was going on, either.

Which was strange, Matt thought. If Jen was telling the truth.

He’d bet his bottom dollar she wasn’t.

“Your dad doesn’t want me talking about the actual possibilities for the sculpture until a decision is made. Which is fine with me. I actually prefer to keep any work in progress completely under wraps to all but the subjects, or patron commissioning the work.”

Wordlessly, she handed Matt a few rough sketches. The other three she passed to Emmett.

His resentment building, Matt glanced down.

The proposed sculptures were beautiful.

And incredible, in how they captured the essence of his parents, and the deep, abiding love they’d had for each other.

Feeling a little choked up himself, Matt handed the sketches to his dad.

Emmett, who never cried, had tears in his eyes as he scanned the drawings once again.

Dabbing at his cheek with a handkerchief, he rose abruptly. “Excuse me.” He left the studio without a backward glance, and somewhat awkwardly, from the sound of it, made his way down the hall.

Matt realized his dad must have been overcome with emotion.

The ache in his own throat grew.

Jen’s eyes glistened, as she moved away. Without looking at him, she said, “Posthumous works can be tough to do. Especially in the beginning.”

No kidding.

Matt felt as if he was about to start bawling, and he never cried.

At least he hadn’t since his mom had died.

He walked over to the drafting table, where Jen stood. Her glance still averted, she made a big production of tidying up her pencils.

He thrust the sketches at her.

She spread them out carefully on the table.

“But when the work is finished, the bronze is usually very comforting because so much has gone into it. It’s such a special memorial.”

Jen paused to look down with a critical eye at the photographs she’d used as a reference, and the sketches she’d made. “If you’d like to weigh in—tell me what you think about what I’ve done so far, what needs work, or what I might be missing…”

Matt shook his head, no more equipped to do that than his dad had been.

How was it possible that his mother could have been gone for ten years now, and the grief was still so raw?

He thought he’d gotten past this. Accepted fate. Moved on.

The truth was he was still as rocked by it as his father was. No wonder Jen had been reaching out, trying to comfort Emmett. She probably felt sorry for him and wanted to protect his macho image.

Matt didn’t need her doing that for him, too.

“I don’t think so,” he said gruffly, ready to run from the scene like an emotional coward, just as his dad had.

He turned away from Jen and headed toward the door.

First, he’d had to dig his mom’s paintings out of storage and carry some up; he had no idea which ones, since they still weren’t unwrapped.

And now this… His dad all weepy over sketches and photos of his deceased wife, and Matt feeling the same.

Still, he had a duty to at least be civil to Jen. She probably knew what she was stirring up, but had to do it anyway, as part of her work here.

Swallowing, he paused in the doorway and glanced back, meeting her gaze. Somehow making his voice sound almost normal, he announced, “I came up to tell you that Scully has food over in the bunkhouse if you want to join him and the hands for dinner. That’s what Dad and I usually do when Luz is off. But if not,” Matt continued, with the requisite politeness shown to guests on the Triple B, “you’re welcome to either have some chow sent over, or cook here. Naturally, you can help yourself to whatever is in the kitchen.”

Jen held his eyes, looking as if she wanted to say something important, but didn’t dare.

She swallowed, too, then nodded with the same careful politeness he’d shown her. “Thanks for the information and the invitation, but I’m not really hungry. I think I’ll grab something later.”

Matt couldn’t say he was surprised. Sometimes solitude was the best medicine. And right now, he needed even more time on the range.

“Suit yourself.” He tipped his head at her, then walked off.

* * *

JEN ENDED UP WORKING until almost ten. By the time she hit the kitchen, the rest of the house was silent. An indication that Emmett had either gone out or gone to bed. The same with Matt.

Trying not to feel disappointed about the lack of company, she opened the stainless-steel fridge. It was filled with all sorts of goodies, and she was still trying to decide what to eat when footsteps sounded behind her.

Matt walked in, a disgruntled look on his face. He was wearing a clean pair of jeans and a plain white T-shirt. His hair was damp and he smelled of soap and shampoo. Which reminded her of their lovemaking that afternoon.

Had it only been eight hours or so since they’d been together? she wondered wistfully.

It felt like a lifetime ago.

More than a lifetime.

She studied Matt’s surly, withdrawn expression, and couldn’t help but wonder if Emmett was still feeling poorly. Or whether Matt had noticed. Even if he wouldn’t yet admit to himself that his dad was ailing.

A feeling of unease sifted through her. She had to tread carefully here so as not to let anyone down. “Everything okay?”

Matt shoved a hand through his curly black hair. “Depends on what you mean by okay.”

She drew a conciliatory breath and lifted her shoulders in a shrug. “Okay…”

Her pun did not elicit the smile she had hoped to see.

Which likely meant he was still wrangling with his residual grief.

All too aware that this was his domain, not hers, and she was simply a guest here—and at the moment, an inconvenient one—Jen shut the fridge.

Ignoring the hunger pangs in her tummy, she leveled an honest glance at Matt. “If you want me to clear out while you do whatever it is you came in here to do, I’ll return later.”

It was the least she could do, after thrusting Emmett and Matt back into the throes of grief, at least temporarily.

He rocked back on his heels. “You haven’t eaten dinner yet?”

Her stomach growled. Hoping he hadn’t heard that, she waved away his concern. “I got caught up in what I was doing.” I was also hoping to avoid running into you until I felt better able to honor Emmett’s request to keep his health issues secret.

Jen peered at Matt, noting he had shaved.

And though the clean-cut look wouldn’t last on him more than a few hours, it was nice at the moment. Made it easy to see how ruggedly handsome he was, even without the masculine stubble. Worse, it reminded her how much she still wanted to throw caution to the wind and make love with him again.

But adding to the emotional confusion simmering between them would be foolish. Jen had stopped being foolish years ago, because she knew no good ever came of it.

Aware that Matt was still studying her, an implacable expression in his intent, sky-blue eyes, she swallowed. “Surely you ate.”

He leaned against the kitchen counter, arms folded in front of him. “The storm the other night knocked down some fence. A hundred or so cattle wandered out, so they had to be rounded up and moved to another pasture until the fence could be repaired.”

So he hadn’t just been avoiding her.

“Sounds…challenging,” Jen remarked.

His expression didn’t change. “All in a day’s work.”

Was making love with her all in a day’s work, too? she wondered, then pushed the thought away. She had to stop thinking about Matt in romantic terms. Otherwise, she’d never get over their “fling.”

Never be able to finish her work here.

Keep Emmett’s secret.

Advance her career.

Keep her heart intact.

Matt might be able to handle a casual affair, but she couldn’t.

Not without losing a part of herself along the way.

Some of the tension eased. Matt moved past her, brought out a casserole of leftover chicken enchiladas, and containers of rice and refried beans. Set it all on the counter. He gestured at the fridge, which was loaded with other choices—all prepared by Luz, for weekend consumption. “Help yourself.”

“You sure?” Jen eyed what Matt had chosen. It looked awfully good, even cold. There was plenty.

“I think we can share a meal, even if we don’t ‘share’ anything else,” he said wryly.

Such as another kiss?

Or climaxes that were sweet, sensual and satisfying enough to rock her entire world.

Jen successfully fought back a flush. She’d been wondering how long before he brought that up. “Matt…”

“It’s okay,” he said softly, looking at her as if he needed comfort only she could give. “I understand.” He tucked her hair behind her ear, let his gaze rove seductively over her face. “Just so you know, you can change your mind anytime. All you have to do is—”

Footsteps sounded in the hall.

Matt dropped his hand, stepped back, but Jen’s heart continued to pound.

Emmett walked into the kitchen, clad in a robe, pajamas and sheepskin-lined slippers. He smiled when he saw her. With relief, she noted he seemed to have recovered fully from what had ailed him earlier.

“I’m glad you’re still up, Jen,” he said with a smile. “I want to talk to you about the West Texas Ranchers Association annual summer gala in Fort Worth. It’s a week from Friday. I’d like you to go with Matt and me.”

Jen noted that Matt looked as surprised by the invitation as she felt. “The three of us?” she asked.

“Sure.” Emmett shrugged in bemusement. “Why not?”

Matt lifted a brow, his expression inscrutable once again. Nervously, Jen turned back to his dad. “Won’t that look a little odd?” She knew it would feel so, given all she was suddenly hiding. Her secret tryst with Matt, for starters. Then there was Emmett’s supposed illness, which he insisted she keep from Matt. She hated being put in the middle, and worried that the emotional fallout could cause a permanent rift between father and son.

Not to mention what it would mean for her and Matt…

Heavens, how had this turned into such a mess?

Oblivious to the unsettling nature of her thoughts, he shrugged again. “We’re all friends. Unless you’d rather take a date, which would be fine, too.” He flashed a generous smile. “Whatever you decide on that score, I still think you should go. A lot of very influential people will be there. Potential patrons. I want to introduce you around. Let everybody know what you’re doing for us.”

Dex’s parents had often said the same thing to her, only their purpose had been garnering sympathy from their friends, and wanting everyone to know what they were doing for poor little underprivileged Jen. Who never should have had the greed to marry their son.

And that painful past experience, Jen thought miserably, was exactly why she shouldn’t go.

Showing art in her gallery was one thing. She was in her comfort zone. Social gatherings like the ball would only remind her of her failed marriage, and the humiliation she had suffered at her in-laws’ hands.

“Of course, you’re going to need formal attire.” Emmett continued as if Jen had already accepted his invitation. “So I called Jenna Lockhart Remington this evening and filled her in.”

The world-renowned haute couture designer who designed all the Oscar dresses? Jen’s flush of embarrassment deepened. “I appreciate it, Emmett, but the Lockhart salon is way out of my league, pricewise.” Even if the company’s flagship boutique was located in Laramie, Texas—home to all the Lockhart sisters and their wildly successful offspring.

Emmett took some juice from the fridge and poured a glass. “You don’t need to worry about that, honey. I’m paying for it.”

Matt looked at Jen again, with that same steady patience in his eyes.

Forcing herself to breathe, she shook her head. “Thank you so much, Emmett. I appreciate the gesture, but I can’t let you do that. That really would not look right.” People would talk. Matt would…

Well, who cared what Matt would think?

She would, that’s who!

Emmett smiled, waving off her protest. “It wouldn’t look right for you not to show up in an expensive gown, since all the dresses the ladies are wearing this year are going to be donated to an auction that will benefit Children’s Hospital.”

“Oh,” she said, ignoring Matt’s glance.

“Anyway…” Emmett drank his juice and left the glass in the sink “…any time you want to show up tomorrow, they’ll let you pick out a gown, and do a fitting.”

Appreciating the chance to help Children’s Hospital, in a way she couldn’t afford to otherwise, Jen smiled at him. “Thank you.”

“No problem,” he boomed. “Well, I’m headed on to bed. Night, y’all.”

“Good night,” Jen and Matt echoed in unison.

Emmett strode off, seeming, to Jen’s relief, to be in fine form once again. Had she been wrong to worry? All she knew for certain was that she wouldn’t feel good about the situation until he had seen a doctor and been thoroughly checked out.

But that was going to take some persuading…

An awkward silence fell.

Matt continued to study her another long minute, then went back to plating his dinner.

“Well, aren’t you going to say it?” Jen said. She knew what he was thinking.

He covered his food with a sheet of waxed paper, slid it into the microwave and hit the reheat button. “Say what?”

Jen served herself some food, as well. “That your father has a way of getting people to do what he wants them to.”

Matt reached into the refrigerator and got out two Bohemia beers. He uncapped both, handed her one. “It’s not like you could refuse.”

Jen found a lime, quartered it and squeezed a section into her bottle. “You, either.” She paused to savor the combination of fresh lime and Mexican beer. “Are you going to take a date?”

Still waiting on his dinner, Matt eyed her above the rim of his bottle. “Depends.” He let his gaze drift over her. “Will you come as my date?”

Tingling everywhere he’d looked—and especially where he hadn’t—Jen shrugged. It wasn’t that cool in the kitchen, but her nipples were contracting beneath her tank top. “I can’t do that.”

His gaze drifted there, arousing another flood of sensations, before returning to her eyes. “Why not?” He turned to get his plate, set hers in the microwave and pushed the button again. “I don’t care who knows I’m interested in you.”

Jen busied herself getting out the silverware and napkins. “Well, I care,” she told him stiffly. “Besides, we agreed—”

Matt caught her around the waist and shifted her against him. He felt warm and solid. And safe.

“We didn’t agree to anything,” he murmured, kissing her temple, then her cheek. “You said it couldn’t happen again.”

Yes, she had. Jen closed her eyes. Why, oh why, had she been such a fool? Passion this strong was a once-in-a-lifetime thing.

She could enjoy it without getting her heart broken, couldn’t she? If she was smart.

Jen kept her eyes closed as he kissed his way down her neck. She jerked in a breath. “You didn’t argue.”

Matt cupped her chin in his hand.

Jen opened her eyes.

Looked into his.

His gaze was tender. And filled with a yearning as strong and sensual as her own. He ran a strand of her hair through his fingers, admitting softly, “Only because I didn’t figure pushing you would get me where I wanted to go.”

Actually, Jen thought, it kind of was. He was just kissing her lightly and she was already fantasizing about taking him into the shower again and soaping him down, then moving right back to his bed.

Matt continued, in all seriousness, “I promised myself this afternoon—and now I’m promising you—that I’ll slow down.” He paused to let his words sink in. “Give us time to get to know each other.”

That was quite a promise. And one she hadn’t expected. Jen inhaled a shaky breath, aware that she was closer than ever to falling for him. Completely.

Unfortunately, love and reason did not often go hand in hand.

Feeling she owed it to him to be honest about this much, she predicted, “It’s not going to change anything in the long run.” Although it was already changing something now, because if he kept this up, she wasn’t going to be able to resist him for long.

Matt smiled and kissed her lightly on the lips. He took her hand and led her to the table, then returned to the dinging microwave to get her dinner. “You keep telling yourself that. I’m going to tell myself something else entirely.”

* * *

JEN WAS STILL THINKING about what Matt had said the night before, when she accepted Emmett’s offer to lend her a car, and drove to town early the next afternoon.

She knew Matt was a decent guy. He loved his dad, still grieved the loss of his mother—although he tried to hide that—and meant well in general. The problem was, he assumed Jen and he could keep it casual, keep it private, and continue sleeping together without their emotions getting in the way.

And while that might be true for him, it wasn’t for her.

She already had developed a huge fascination for him, which prompted her to do foolish things she had never considered before. Such as allow herself to be distracted from work. Mix business with pleasure. And make herself vulnerable to a man who was so far socially and financially out of her league it wasn’t funny.

She had learned the hard way that men with Matt’s background did not trust the intentions of someone from a background like hers.

They might say they did, in the beginning, but money always got in the way in the end.

Jen didn’t want to see that happen to her and Matt.

She wanted at the very least for them to get to know each other and form a solid friendship.

And she knew Matt wanted that, too.

Whether they would be lasting friends remained to be seen.

Aside from each losing a parent, they might find out they had little in common save sexual chemistry. And if that was the case, well, their fascination with each other would probably fade.

In the meantime, what she needed to do was spend as much time working and as little time alone with Matt as possible.

The first order of business was the photo printing shop in town.

She’d already scanned the pictures on to her computer, so it was a simple matter to get them printed the way she wanted. From there, she went to the Lockhart Boutique on Main Street.

The dress salon was busy. A young actress was getting fitted for an awards show scheduled for later in the summer. A bride and her attendants were trying to select bridesmaid dresses—not easy, when there were so many gorgeous gowns and styles to choose from. Another young woman was trying to pick out a gown for the West Texas Ranchers Association summer gala.

Learning Jen was there for the same reason, the striking brunette introduced herself. “So you’re the artist Matt has been talking about.”

Jen made a face. “Good or bad?”

She laughed, as if that was a silly question. “All good, of course.” She extended her hand. “I’m Emily McCabe-Reeves, owner of the Daybreak Café across the street.”

Jen had heard of her, too. She turned around, checking out in the three-way mirror the turquoise gown she was trying on. “Luz told me that’s the one place in town I’ve got to be sure to visit.”

Emily stepped up to have a look at the grass-green gown she had on. “You should visit us, too. My husband, Dylan, and I have a ranch not too far from the Triple B. The Last Chance Ranch for troubled horses.”