You're Still the One. Debbi Rawlins
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