Читать книгу Her Cowboy Groom - Trish Milburn - Страница 9
Оглавление“Come on back to my place,” Tiffany Clark whispered into Owen Brody’s ear as she clung to him like a barnacle. “You know you want to.”
Part of him was tempted by her curvy figure and her warm lips nibbling on his ear. Plenty of times he would have taken her up on it. But tonight he was just dog tired after a day of working on the ranch with his brother and dad and then a couple of hours devoted to training the horse he hoped would make a good roping horse. And then he’d gotten the bright idea to come into town for a couple of beers and to scope out the female landscape at the dance hall. Halfway into his first beer, he wished he’d stayed home and gone to bed.
Now, if that wasn’t a sad statement about his life. It wasn’t as if he was an old codger, but for some reason his normal routine of working hard followed by playing hard just wasn’t doing it for him tonight.
He gently pushed Tiffany away from him. “Not tonight, Tiff. I’d be falling in my plate if I had a plate.”
His rebuff earned him a pout from Tiffany, and for a moment he reconsidered passing on the pleasure she was offering. But he had the oddest feeling that his being tired wasn’t the only reason he wasn’t dragging Tiffany and her tasty curves to the nearest bed. Hell, the nearest horizontal surface. But damned if he knew why she didn’t look quite as appealing as she once had.
Owen slipped off the bar stool where he was sitting and tossed a couple of bills on the bar.
“Calling it a night so soon?” asked James Turner, who was tending bar tonight.
“Yeah, just hit the wall.”
James shot him a crooked grin. “I think hell just froze over.”
“Be careful or I’ll take my tip back.”
James just laughed and moved to fill another drink order.
Owen stepped out of Tiffany’s reach before she could attach herself to him again and made for the door. He stifled a yawn as he headed out the door and across the parking lot to his truck. A stiff breeze sent a paper cup tumbling across the parking lot, and thunder rumbled in the distance, promising some good sleeping weather.
As he drove toward home, a few sprinkles of rain began to fall. Just as he passed Crider Road, he noticed emergency flashers blinking on a car up ahead. As he got closer, he spotted a small silver car pulled halfway off the road. A woman wearing a skirt and high heels stood beside the car and then proceeded to kick the flat rear tire. He couldn’t help but chuckle at the image she made even though she was obviously upset.
He pulled in behind her and parked, leaving his headlights on to illuminate her and the car as he slipped out of the truck.
“I don’t think that’s going to help,” he said as he approached her.
When she looked toward him, he hesitated for a moment as recognition hit. “Linnea? What are you doing out here?”
She took a step back as she shaded her eyes against the bright light. He realized she must have figured out she wasn’t in the safest position, broken down alone on the side of a rural road at night.
“It’s Owen Brody. Are you headed to the ranch?”
She seemed to deflate more than relax. “That was the plan, but my tire had a different idea.” She sounded even more drained than he felt.
He walked the rest of the distance to the rear of her car. “Don’t worry. I’ll get this changed for you.”
“Thank you.” Her voice sounded so small that he met her eyes and saw a sadness there that he’d never seen before in his sister’s best friend.
“You okay?”
“Been a rough day.”
He wasn’t a “share your feelings” sort of guy, but for some reason he wanted to ask her what was wrong. Instead, he asked her to pop the car’s trunk so he could get the spare before the approaching storm reached them.
She moved to comply and had to catch herself against the side of the car when she twisted her ankle off the edge of the pavement. The curse that came from her shocked Owen, it being so at odds with the classy lady he’d always known her to be.
“Did you hurt yourself?”
“I’m fine.”
She sounded anything but fine, but he wasn’t going to push. He knew better than to wave the proverbial red flag in front of a woman already in a foul mood.
When the trunk latch disengaged, he opened the lid and found the spare tire, one of those little donut deals. “Hate to tell you this, but your spare is as flat as a pancake, too.”
“Of course it is.” Linnea bit her lip and lifted her gaze to the darkened sky just as the raindrops picked up their pace.
He closed the trunk. “Come on. I’ll give you a ride to Chloe’s. We’ll get your tires fixed in the morning.”
“I...I was actually going to your house.”
He looked at her, growing more confused by the moment.
“I’m sorry,” she said as she shook her head. “I should have called her back. She offered me the extra room for a few days, but I see she didn’t tell you all about it. If you could give me a ride into town, I’ll get a room at the inn.”
When had his house become his sister’s bed-and-breakfast? Although he had to admit Linnea was a lot nicer to look at than the last guest they’d had. Not that Wyatt wasn’t a decent-enough-looking guy, but he was a guy. They already had enough testosterone and stinky socks around without adding more.
“Don’t be silly,” he said. “Come on before you get soaked.”
Linnea hesitated before opening the back door and grabbing a couple of bags and her purse. As she started toward him, he saw her wince when she put weight on her twisted ankle. He’d never liked seeing a woman in pain, so he stepped up beside her and wrapped his arm around her waist, taking some of her weight.
She stiffened for a moment before allowing her muscles to relax a little. “Thanks.”
“No thanks necessary. Rescuing damsels in distress, it’s what I do.”
He expected a laugh, a smile, something. But when she offered none of those, he realized this was not the same Linnea who’d been texting Chloe pictures of wedding stuff for months. Someone who was as happy as Linnea supposedly was about her upcoming marriage didn’t look as if someone had run over her dog and then laughed about it. But it wasn’t his business. Female drama was Chloe’s department.
As the rain picked up its pace, he ushered her toward the driver’s-side door of his truck. “It’ll be easier for you to get in over here. Can’t have you toppling into the ditch.”
She made an attempt to smile at him this time, but damned if it didn’t look shaky and as if she might dissolve into tears at any moment. Oh, hell. He so didn’t do tears. He had to get to the ranch and hand her off to his sister. As she slid across the truck to the passenger side, he sent a quick text to Chloe to get her butt over to his house because he’d just picked up her best friend on the side of the road.
By the time they reached the house, the rain was coming down in slanting sheets. He parked but didn’t get out of the truck. Part of him wanted to curse that he hadn’t taken Tiffany up on her offer. A woman who had a night of naughtiness on her mind—that he could deal with. Sitting in a truck with a woman who looked on the verge of tears as the heavens unloaded on them? Not so much.
His phone buzzed with a text from his sister. “Chloe says she’ll be here as soon as the rain lets up.”
“She doesn’t have to get out in this.” Linnea shook her head. “I should have just stayed at home.”
Yeah, something was definitely wrong in happily-ever-after land. Knowing he was going to kick himself for asking, he did anyway. “What’s wrong?”
He thought she wasn’t going to answer at first, but then she took a shaky breath. “I’m not getting married after all.”
Oh, hell, why had he opened his big mouth?
Linnea shifted her gaze out the window, through the stream of water running down the other side of the glass. “Turns out I was engaged to someone who was already married.”
He cursed, couldn’t help it. He searched for the appropriate thing to say, but came up empty save for a weak “Sorry.”
“Me, too.”
Part of him was curious, but he wasn’t digging himself deeper into this emotional hole. Instead, he hopped out into the rain that had slackened a fraction and hurried around to her side of the truck. He opened the door and helped her out and hurried with her to the porch. He made sure she was safely up the steps before he ran back to the truck for her bags.
When he reached the porch, he found her standing there waiting for him, her arms wrapped around her wet body, her hair dripping. Despite the fact that it was early September in Texas, he had the strongest urge to wrap her in a blanket to make sure she didn’t catch a chill.
Reminding himself that Linnea was a grown woman and perfectly capable of taking care of herself, flat tires notwithstanding, he opened the door and motioned for her to precede him inside.
It wasn’t until he followed her that he realized he should have gone first. Luckily, his dad and Garrett were kicked back watching TV, but one of them could just as easily have been strolling through the living room in his underwear. He didn’t think Linnea needed to be assaulted with that image, even if she hadn’t just had the worst day ever.
“Linnea?” Wayne Brody got to his feet. Before he could say anything else, Owen shook his head a little where Linnea couldn’t see him. He saw acknowledgment in his dad’s eyes before his dad crossed the living room and gave Linnea a hug. “It’s good to see you.”
Linnea pulled out of his arms. “I’ll get you all wet.”
His dad laughed. “Honey, I don’t think a few raindrops are going to do me in.”
Owen lifted Linnea’s bag a little higher. “You want to change into something dry?”
Linnea met his eyes for a moment, then nodded. “Thanks.” She took the bag and headed for Chloe’s old room.
No one said anything until the door clicked closed.
“What’s going on?” Garrett asked from where he’d sunk onto the arm of the couch.
Owen kept his voice low so Linnea wouldn’t hear. “Chloe told Linnea she could stay here for a few days, but they got their wires crossed somehow. I found Linnea on the side of the road with a flat tire.”
“Why would she want to stay here?” his dad asked. “She and Chloe got wedding stuff to do or something?”
Owen glanced toward the hallway to make sure Linnea was still in the bedroom. “She said the wedding is off.”
“Off?”
Owen shrugged. “That’s what she said.”
“And Chloe thought the best place for her was here?” Garrett asked.
“I guess ’cause there’s an extra bedroom here. At Chloe’s she’d have to sleep on the couch.”
“And have to see happy newlyweds, the last thing she probably wants to see right now,” Wayne said.
So maybe Linnea staying in the extra room here did make more sense. A heads-up would have been nice, though.
After Owen went to change out of his own wet clothes, he noticed that Linnea hadn’t come out of the bedroom. Had she fallen asleep? Or was she just hiding? He had no idea what to do, if he was supposed to do anything. Maybe the best thing was to just leave her alone, let Chloe take care of things when she got here. But from the sound of the rain, that might be a while.
The living room sat empty when he walked back in. He found his dad in the kitchen pulling a bowl of hot chili out of the microwave. Beyond him in the utility room, Garrett was shoving a load of dirty clothes into the washing machine.
“Here, take this to Linnea,” Wayne said as he added a sleeve of crackers and a spoon to the wooden tray, part of a set Chloe had gotten them last Christmas for when they ate in front of the TV during football games.
“Me?”
Wayne cocked an eyebrow. “Yeah, she doesn’t bite.”
But what if she was in the bedroom crying? “Shouldn’t we just leave her alone until she’s ready to come out?”
“She might not come out tonight. And chances are if she’s upset she hasn’t eaten.”
Owen bit down on the urge to ask why his dad didn’t take the chili to Linnea, instead grabbing the tray. Might as well get it over with. When he reached the guest room, he held the tray in one hand while he knocked on the door with the other. He heard movement inside before Linnea opened the door. Thank God she didn’t look as if she’d been crying, at least not recently. But there was evidence of earlier tears in the puffiness around her eyes.
“Dad warmed up some chili for you.”
“He didn’t have to do that.”
“Wasn’t a problem. We tend to make enough to feed half of Texas when we cook chili.”
Linnea smiled a little as she reached out and took the tray. “Thank you.”
After an awkward moment, he nodded and started to walk away.
“Owen?”
He looked back at her. The unsure hesitance on her face was so unlike Linnea. She was usually full of life and buzzing around like a bee, always doing something. She and Chloe had been the perfect college roommates. Seeing her look broken and sad left him with the most helpless feeling he’d had in a very long time.
“Thanks, for everything. I’ll get out of your hair as soon as I can get the tire fixed.”
While part of him had no idea what to do with a heartbroken woman in his house, he got the oddest feeling that maybe she was just where she needed to be at the moment.
“Don’t worry about it. The room is just sitting here empty. If you can stand being around us, you’re welcome to stay. You class up the joint.”
When she offered him the hint of a smile, it made him happier than it should.
* * *
LINNEA KNEW SHE should leave the bedroom and be social, especially since she’d dropped in on the Brody men unannounced. But she just couldn’t make herself do it. She feared she’d lose her tenuous grip on her control and start crying in front of them. And despite the fact that they’d been around Chloe for years, she doubted they knew how to deal with an overly emotional female. No, it was better if she just stayed out of sight for a while. In fact, she texted Chloe that there was no need for her to get out in the rain even though the house she shared with Wyatt was only a few miles away on another part of the ranch. She’d just talk to her the next day, when hopefully Linnea would have more control over her heartbreak.
She didn’t feel much like eating, but her stomach had other ideas. It was empty and demanding to be fed. She’d not eaten anything since breakfast, and honestly she was a little light-headed from lack of food. So she sat in the comfortable reading chair in the corner and took a bite of the chili. She thought she’d only be able to manage a few spoonfuls, but she ended up emptying the bowl and half the sleeve of crackers.
Linnea felt no better about the state of her life, but at least she wasn’t hungry on top of that.
The minutes ticked by at an agonizingly slow pace. She was beginning to think coming to the ranch had been a very bad idea. Maybe she should have gone somewhere no one knew her like the beach, on a cruise, the other side of the world.
Her phone buzzed, drawing her out of a daydream about lying in the sun in the Caribbean. When she saw that it was Michael, her bottom lip quivered. She wouldn’t have thought it possible, but her heart broke into even more pieces. How many times had seeing his name on her phone display made her smile? Sent joy coursing through her heart? Too many to count. But now it just made her want to crush the phone in her hand until it was nothing but dust. With her fingers shaking, she blocked his number. And then the tears started to fall again.
She curled into the bed and covered her head with a pillow, hoping it muffled the sound enough that no one would hear her. Having an unexpected guest drop in was bad enough. But having that guest turn into a blubbering mess was even worse.
Still, she couldn’t help it. She’d thought putting distance between her and Michael would be a good thing, but she actually felt worse. And she couldn’t contain the hurt anymore, so she let it flow out as quietly as she could when what she really wanted to do was scream and wail and ugly cry until there was nothing left inside her.
Linnea fell asleep with her clothes on and the tears still flowing. When she woke the next morning, she realized it was because she heard Owen, Garrett and their dad getting ready to head out to work. Judging by how she felt, she knew she had to be quite a sight with her puffy, itchy eyes, stuffy nose and pounding headache. And her body ached as if she’d been body-slammed.
She lay in the bed staring at the ceiling as footsteps came down the hall, then paused for a moment outside her door before moving on. Was it Owen? His dad? Owen had always been the wildest of the Brody clan, according to Chloe, moving from job to job and never one to turn down an opportunity to have a good time. But the night before, he’d acted more like his sister, caring and offering a helping hand. Maybe she’d looked as fragile as she’d felt, and he’d been afraid she’d break.
After the house grew quiet, she still couldn’t force herself out of bed. She hated feeling so miserable, so pathetic, but she just couldn’t muster the energy to move.
Several minutes later, she heard a door open and close and wondered if one of the guys had forgotten something. But then there was a light knock on her door.
“Lin? You awake?” Chloe asked.
She thought about not answering, letting Chloe think she was asleep, but her friend had given her a place to retreat to. The least she could do was thank her for that. “Yeah.”
The door opened slowly before Chloe poked her head through the opening. “Hey. How are you doing?”
Linnea took a shaky breath. “I’ve been better.”
Chloe came fully into the room and sat on the side of the bed. She took one of Linnea’s hands between hers. “I’m so sorry. I want to do Michael bodily harm for hurting you, betraying you like that.”
“You’re not the only one.”
“Did he give you any sort of explanation why he’d be that cruel?”
“I didn’t give him the chance.”
“Well, good. I can’t imagine a single thing he could say that would make him any less of a worthless human being.”
Linnea knew everything Chloe was saying was true, but it still hurt. She didn’t want Michael to be a worthless human being. She wanted the past twenty-four hours to be nothing more than a horrible nightmare brought on by bad seafood. She desperately wanted to wake up from that nightmare to find that Michael was the loving, caring man he’d been over the past six months. But as she looked at the righteous anger in her best friend’s eyes, she knew every horrible moment had been all too real.
Chloe squeezed Linnea’s hand in what felt like a grip of solidarity. “I’m going to make you some French toast. It’s never failed us before.”
True, French toast had become their go-to breakfast whenever anything went wrong in college—bad grade, rotten date, even breakups. But this was so far beyond even the awesome healing properties of French toast.
“Don’t you need to get to work?”
“I can go in later.”
Linnea shook her head. “I don’t want you shifting your life around for me.”
“Don’t be silly. You’re my best friend. This is what best friends are for.”
Linnea placed her free hand atop Chloe’s. “Please don’t take this the wrong way, but I don’t think anything is going to help how I feel right now other than time. Or possibly a lobotomy.”
The helpless look on Chloe’s face nearly made Linnea cry again. But, bless her, Chloe nodded before she leaned forward and wrapped Linnea in her arms. Linnea had to bite her lip to keep tears from falling.
“You need anything, no matter how small or how big, you let me know. I know you like to be alone to deal with things, but sometimes it doesn’t feel right, like now. It feels like I’m abandoning you.”
Linnea pulled away. “You’ve given me the one thing I need most, a place to get away.” A place to hide, a voice in her mind said. “Though I do feel bad about being in the way of your dad and brothers.”
“Don’t worry about that. And you know they’ve always liked you.”
“Did you tell them what happened?”
Chloe shook her head. “No. That’s not my place. Though Dad knew the wedding was off when I talked to him last night.”
Linnea nodded. “I told Owen since I showed up out of the blue. Sorry I didn’t call you back and let you know I was coming. I wasn’t thinking.”
“No need to apologize. You’re here now, and you can stay however long you want to.”
“Thanks.” She glanced toward the sun streaming in the window, the cheery brightness so at odds with her mood. The downpour the night before had been a more suitable match.
Chloe stood, drawing Linnea’s attention away from the window. “I’ll go and get out of your hair. Make yourself at home, okay?”
Linnea nodded. When she heard the front door close, she tried to force herself from the bed. But in the end, she slid back under the covers and sank into her heartache again. In that moment, she hated Michael every bit as much as she’d ever loved him. This time, her tears were born of anger that he’d made her feel this way, that he’d stolen her will to even get out of bed and face the day.
When she woke again, the morning was about to give way to afternoon. She ached even worse than she had earlier that morning, and that, more than anything else, prompted her to finally get up. She walked to the window and looked out over the gentle rise and fall of the ranch that spread for miles. It was so different from where she’d grown up and now lived in Dallas, but she’d always liked it. She’d never met anyone who fit their surroundings more than the Brodys. It was as if the land were a member of their family, their flesh and blood. The closest she’d ever come to that kind of connection with a place was her shop, but when she thought of it now it felt as if that relationship had been stabbed in the heart, as well.
Linnea forced herself to pull some clean clothes from her bag and head to the bathroom. A shower wasn’t going to heal her wounded heart, but maybe it would make her feel halfway human again.
She stood under the steaming stream of water, soaking the heat into her aching body, trying to forget why she felt so wretched. But the more she tried to forget that she’d nearly married an already married man, the more that horrible truth burned itself into her thoughts. By the time she got dressed and left the bathroom, she felt as if she’d worked an entire day. Who knew having your heart stomped on could be so exhausting?
When she reached the kitchen, it was past lunchtime. But she still nabbed a chocolate glazed donut from a bakery box. As she took the first bite, she noticed a note with her name on it sitting in the middle of the table.
Gone to get your tires fixed. Back later. O.
She smiled a little bit. Underneath the party boy exterior, Owen Brody just might have a nice streak in him.
She walked slowly through the house, pausing to look at familiar family photos. She was even in a couple of the snapshots with Chloe from their college days. They looked so happy and carefree. Hard to believe that little more than a day ago, she’d still been happy. But that emotion seemed so far away now.
Shaking her head at the self-pity that was threatening to consume her whole, she headed out onto the porch and the heat of the day. She stopped short when she saw her car parked in the graveled area between the house and the barn. Part of her sorrow gave way to guilt. While she was sleeping the morning away, Owen had already gotten her tires fixed and brought her car back to the ranch. She scanned the area but didn’t see him. No doubt he was already out riding on the back forty somewhere, doing whatever ranchers did every day.
Despite still feeling shaky, she descended the steps and started walking. The day was quite warm, but she didn’t care. Though she spent most of her time indoors working, there was something therapeutic about getting out in the sunshine under a wide blue sky. It almost made her believe things weren’t so bad.
But they were.
She walked the length of the driveway and back. When she approached the house, Roscoe and Cletus, the Brodys’ two lovable basset hounds, came ambling around the corner of the porch.
“Hey, guys,” she said as she sank onto the front steps and proceeded to scratch them both under their chins. “You’re just as handsome as ever.”
“Why, thank you.”
She jumped at the sound of Owen’s voice. The dogs jumped, too, probably because she had. She glanced up to where Owen stood at the corner of the porch. “You made me scare the dogs.”
“Sorry. But I was taught to thank someone when they pay me a compliment.”
She shook her head. “Nice to see your ego is still intact.”
“Ouch.”
She laughed a little at his mock affront, something she wouldn’t have thought possible that morning. She ought to thank him for that moment of reprieve, but she didn’t want to focus on why she’d thought she might never laugh or even smile again. Instead, she nodded toward her car. “Thanks for getting the tires fixed so quickly. How much do I owe you?”
“Nothing.”
“I’m perfectly capable of paying my own bills.”
“I’m sure you are. Still, I don’t think fixing a couple of flats is going to send me to the poorhouse.” With that he tapped the brim of his cowboy hat and headed toward the barn.
As he walked away, she noticed how nice he looked in those worn jeans. No wonder he didn’t have trouble finding women.
Oh, my God! She was looking at Owen’s butt. Owen, as in Chloe’s little brother Owen. The kid who’d once waited on her and Chloe outside Chloe’s room and doused them with a supersoaker, the guy who had earned the nickname Horndog Brody.
She jerked her gaze away, suddenly wondering if she was mentally deficient. First she nearly married a guy who was already married. And now, little more than a day after she found out she’d nearly become an unwitting bigamist, she was ogling her best friend’s brother’s ass.
Unsettled, she went back inside, but instantly felt at a loss for what to do. She was normally hawking wedding gowns, veils and tiaras, everything to make a bride feel like a princess on her special day. Now the idea of even stepping foot into her store made her stomach turn. She knew she’d have to find a way to get past that. She had too much invested in the shop, and she couldn’t leave Katrina in the lurch for too long.
Her heart stuttered when she realized her own fairy-tale gown still hung in the back of the shop. After weeks of admiring it every day, she knew she never wanted to see it again. She grabbed her phone and called Katrina.
“Hey, sweetie,” Katrina answered. “How are you doing?”
It was a miracle Linnea had remembered to even call Katrina the day before to let her know she was going out of town for a few days. In fact, she’d been an hour out of Dallas before it dawned on her.
“I’m out of bed, which is more than I thought I’d accomplish today. How are things going there?”
“Fine. Don’t worry about the shop, okay?”
“Listen, I need you to do something for me.”
“Name it.”
“Sell my dress.”
“What?”
“My dress. I don’t want it to be there when I get back. Mark it at a price that moves it fast.”
Katrina hesitated before responding, “Are you sure? You love that dress.”
“I loved Michael, too, and look what that got me.” She realized how sharp her response had been as soon as it left her mouth. “I’m sorry. It’s just that it’s a reminder of what a fool I am.”
“You’re not a fool. I was standing on the outside and didn’t see any red flags, either.”
Linnea knew that should make her feel better, but it didn’t. “Has he called there looking for me?”
“A few times, but don’t worry about that. I took care of it.”
Something about the tone of Katrina’s voice sounded as though more was going on. “What do you mean, you took care of it?”
“Well, he came by, demanding to know where you were. I may have told him to leave, and if he came back I was going to call the cops and report him for stalking.”
Linnea’s mouth dropped open. “You didn’t?”
“I did, and I’d do it again. I might be small, but I will mess up anyone who hurts my friends.”
Despite everything, Linnea smiled. “Have I told you lately that you’re awesome?”
“No, and you should do that more often.”
“You’re right. I’ll make a note of that.”
Katrina laughed, and it lifted Linnea’s spirits some. They plummeted, however, when after she ended the call, she pulled up all the pre-wedding photos stored in her phone and started deleting them. With each one, it felt more and more as though the past six months of her life had been a waste. Despite what she’d told Katrina, she paused on the main photo of her gorgeous wedding gown. Yes, it was just a dress, but it had embodied her happiness, all her hopes and dreams for the future. Michael had robbed her of all that with his lies.
She hesitated with her finger over the last photo of the dress. As soon as she hit the Delete button, everything she’d planned for with such excitement would be well and truly gone. Fresh tears overflowed and ran down her cheeks as she hit the button.