You're Still the One. Debbi Rawlins
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.”
“There’s a good one.” He huffed out a short laugh. “But it’s not up to me right now. What about you? Anyone special?”
“Here? In Blackfoot Falls? Uh…no.” The condescension in her tone shamed her. Her brothers and Matt and lots of other men born and bred around the county were terrific guys and didn’t deserve the thoughtless remark.
Matt’s mouth quirked up on one side but he didn’t appear to take offense. “Anywhere?”
“No.” She bit her lip and fisted the dish towel. “That was a horrible thing for me to say. I didn’t mean it.”
He shrugged. “Frankly, I didn’t expect you to be here.”
“That, too, is complicated.” She saw amusement enter his eyes. “That’s not payback. I’m being serious.”
“It seems we have some catching up to do.” He lifted a lock of her hair, and she automatically moved closer. “Purple, huh?”
Oh, God, she’ forgotten. “Last year it was pink.”
His brows rose slightly. “So how long does it last?”
“Depends on how much I want to annoy Cole and Jesse, or put up with Trace’s crap.”
“Ah.” He smiled at her, really smiled, as if he was recalling fond memories of them sneaking off to Mill Creek.
They’d kissed there for the first time, and she wondered if he remembered. Not necessarily a good thing. She’d been horrifically inexperienced and it had taken a while for him to get her to relax. Turned out kissing a pair of warm lips was very different than practicing on the back of her hand.
With her luck, it was probably why he’d pecked her on the cheek earlier. That thought broke the warm fuzzy spell she’d been slipping under. She cleared her throat, moved back. “You’re taller.”
Matt blinked, the brief charged moment between them gone. “I think Trace and I were neck and neck when I left. He’s passed me by.”
“My brothers are giants. It’s that McAllister gene.” She stepped around him and closed the dishwasher door. “According to the family Bible, for five generations every McAllister male has topped out over six-two.”
“Trace has gotta be about that. I’m six feet and he’s not that much taller than me.”
For a second, Rachel feared she’d misjudged what could’ve led to a nice sexy kiss. Why else were they having this pointless conversation? She doubted Matt’s ego over being shorter than her brothers had anything to do with it. But then she barely knew Matt anymore. Knowing the boy didn’t mean she knew the man. It kind of depressed her because the odds weren’t in her favor. Who could say what success had done to him. In the rodeo world, a champion bull rider had status, money, more women than he knew what to do with. Matt was that guy now.
She rinsed out the sink, fine with letting the conversation lapse, but eventually she looked over at him.
He was leaning against the counter, watching her. “You take after your mom,” he said quietly. “Petite and—”
“I’m not petite. I’m five-five.”
“Whoa.” He chuckled. “I didn’t mean it as an insult.”
She bit off a response. Nikki and Jamie entered the kitchen, carrying more empty glasses and bottles. Rachel smiled, trying not to be grumpy because she no longer had Matt to herself. It was a small miracle that they’d managed to be alone for the fifteen minutes.
As soon as Matt heard Nikki’s voice, he straightened and picked up the bottle he’d left on the counter. “You recycle?”
Puzzled, Rachel nodded and pointed to the blue bin near the mudroom door. The question wasn’t necessarily odd, but his tone was more impersonal. He wouldn’t have lied about Nikki….
“Have you been cleaning up?” Jamie asked, depositing glasses in the sink. “Stop it. Today is supposed to be your day off.”
“Right.” Rachel sighed. “My mom has a headache so I’m pitching in.”
“Put me to work,” Nikki offered.
“No, but thanks.” Rachel hung the towel. “The dishwasher is full. We can let it run while we rejoin the party.”
Matt separated the new crop of bottles and carried them to the bin. “We need to shove off,” he said, and Nikki nodded solemnly. “I wanted to see your mom,” he said to Rachel. “Tell her I’ll come by again, would you?”
“Sure.” She tried not to look surprised, but she wasn’t aware Matt and her mother knew each other well enough that he’d pay her a special visit. “I could get her now.”
“No, don’t. I’ll be around for a while.”
Nikki swung a startled look at him. Clearly, she had other ideas.
5
“SHE HASN’T GOTTEN over you,” Nikki said, the moment they were bumping over the Sundance’s gravel driveway, headed for the highway.
“Who?”
“Oh, come on. You know I mean Rachel. Who I like very much, by the way, so you have my blessing.”
“Gee, thanks. I’m relieved.” Matt shook his head. The beer hadn’t mellowed him. He was irritable but couldn’t figure out why, and Nikki wasn’t helping. “To illustrate how little you know, she was sixteen when I left.”
Nikki laughed. “So you never…got down and dirty with her?”
“Were you not listening? Rachel was sixteen, Nik. Jesus.”
She sighed and let her head fall back against the headrest. “My brother, so honorable. Why can’t I find someone like you?”
It was his turn to laugh. “Careful what you wish for. I thought I’d have to plug Trace’s eyes back in his head when he saw you.”
She let out an unladylike snort. “Guys like him? Uh-uh. Hot? Yes. But he knows it. Uses it. No, thank you. I’ve had my share of those dogs. No more. I’m done.”
“You’re sure about that?” Remarkably cheered, Matt glanced over at her. “Because I don’t think you made yourself clear.”
She brought her head up. “You’re an ass.”
Matt just smiled. She’d called him worse. “I think you’re wrong about Trace.”
“Are you kidding me? Didn’t you see the way he was flirting with those two women?”
“I saw him being polite. The blonde was doing the flirting. But I reckon it doesn’t matter.”
“No, it doesn’t,” she murmured and stared off mutely into the darkness beyond her window. A few seconds later she asked, “How far away are we?”
“Fifteen minutes.”
“Want to go to the Watering Hole?”
“You’re gonna turn into a drunk trying to put off meeting Wallace.”
“So?” She paused. “What do you think? Watering Hole?”
“I’m