Can't Hurry Love (31 page)

“No problem.”

Celeste turned to go and he stopped her, putting a hand on her arm, and she turned back to him with her eyebrows raised.

“How … how much is the barn renovation costing you?”

“Why?”

It wasn’t easy, reaching out in this way, putting himself in all kinds of weird emotional and business danger. It wasn’t the way he liked to live, but the way he liked to live was lonely. And he was tired of that.

“I’d like to invest.”

“In the spa?” Celeste lifted her sunglasses off her eyes. He nodded.

“The barn renovation is a hundred thousand dollars.”

That was a little less than what he had in the bank left over from the sale of the Angus herd.

“You believe in the spa?”

“I believe in Victoria.”

Celeste melted, all that cold ice she surrounded herself with just vanished, and he was struck dumb by how freaking otherworldly beautiful she was, and by how real she seemed at this moment. Every other time he saw her, it felt like he’d be able to put his hand right through her if he worked up the balls to touch her.

Not so right now. She was flesh and bone, and honest to God, she looked like she could use a hug.

“She’s a lucky woman,” Celeste said.

“I’m the lucky one.”

Victoria came running through the house to set two bottles of champagne on the counter. Jacob followed, carrying his book bag and the papier-mâché moon Eli had helped him make.

“What’s going on? I swear to God I broke every speed limit on my way back here,” she panted. Honestly, she needed to get a gym membership or something. The sprint from her car had her winded.

Ruby grabbed the champagne and wrestled the cork out, until it popped. Her nut-brown face was shiny, her eyes red-rimmed as if she’d been crying. But her smile indicated that they had been happy tears.

“Someone tell me what the hell is going on here, before I have a heart attack,” Victoria said, staring straight into Celeste’s smug and smiling face.

“Let the woman pour, Victoria.”

“I swear, Celeste, I will—”

“Can I have some champagne?” Jacob asked, climbing up onto one of the stools.

“No,” Victoria said, just as Celeste said, “Yes.”

“Trust me, Victoria, this is a truly special occasion.”

Ruby poured bubbly up to the brim in four glasses and then filled a fifth only halfway.

“Who is the other glass for?” Victoria asked as Ruby handed all the crystal out.

“Me,” Eli said, coming through the back door. “I think. Sorry I’m late.”

Her mouth went dry at the sight of him. Three days she’d been living in that man’s house. Three amazing days. Two very, very long nights of staring up at the ceiling in his guest room, wondering why the hell it mattered if Jacob knew she was having a relationship with Eli or not.

Maybe Jacob wouldn’t even figure it out.

But then she thought of trying to have that conversation with her son, about how she and Eli weren’t real.
Weren’t going to turn into a family. How did she explain that she was just having fun to a seven-year-old who looked at Eli like he was part cowboy, part Superman, and all hero?

Eli winked at her, sending her heart into ecstatic prepubescent sighs, and then glanced down at Jacob, who was holding his champagne glass like it was gold. “Whoa, we’re breaking out the good stuff!”

“Will someone please tell me what’s going on?” she demanded.

There was a moment of hushed silence before Ruby exploded. “Me first! Madelyn Cornish is coming to our opening-night party! And I’ve booked the segment on her show for March, but the segment isn’t going to be about the ranch. It’s going to be about me!”

“Ruby—” Celeste groaned.

“The producer said ‘kitchen.’ I am the kitchen.”

Celeste shrugged in concession.

“That’s amazing!” Victoria cried, wrapping her arms around Ruby’s neck. “Great job, Ruby—”

“That’s not all,” Celeste said in a little singsong voice. “We sold out for opening weekend. All eight rooms! We have twenty guests.”

“What?” Victoria couldn’t feel her feet. She clutched the edge of the counter for support.

“And there’s a waiting list.”

She blinked, as Ruby nodded in rapid agreement.

“Those ads!” Victoria cried. “Those ads in the
New York Times
worked.” The photography, the prime space. The website. It had been worth it.

“And then some,” Ruby agreed.

“We need to renovate the barn,” Celeste said, and Victoria put her glass down on the counter, all of her joy colliding with the ceiling and going splat.

“You already talked to Luc?”

Celeste shook her head. “We have an independent investor.”

“Who?” Victoria asked.

Eli raised his hand. “Me.”

Victoria was never the smartest kid in the class, but looking at Eli and Celeste, she started to connect the dots. And when they all came together, she glared at Celeste.

“Don’t be pissy, Victoria.” Celeste pointed her champagne glass at her. “But when we got this big reservation, I knew we needed to get to work on that barn.”

“I’m not pissy, I’m angry that you talked to Eli.” Champagne sloshed over her hand when she put the glass down. “Without talking to me first.”

“I approached Celeste,” Eli said.

“Why didn’t you approach me?” Victoria asked.

“It was sort of spur-of-the-moment.” He shrugged as if it were no big deal, and Victoria had to breathe through the anger.

“Why are you so mad?” Ruby asked.

Because he’s my lover!
she wanted to scream.
Because things are confusing enough. Because I like him and he likes me and there has to be some separation in my life
.

“Can you give us a second?” Eli asked.

“Can I take this with me?” Jacob whispered, holding on to his champagne glass. Celeste nodded and shuffled him out the door, followed by Ruby.

“What’s got you so upset?” Eli touched the tips of her hair where they fell against her ratty polo shirt. She was wearing more of Ruby’s castoffs. Honestly, if her friends from New York could see her now!

“You don’t believe in this project.” It wasn’t why she was upset, but that hardly seemed to matter; she spit it at him anyway.

“I believe in
you
.”

“I don’t …” She took a big breath and looked him in the eye. “I don’t want to need you.”

He started slightly as if she’d poked him where it hurt, and she wanted to rush in with an apology, but she had to hold her ground somewhere. She wanted him, liked him, desired him, respected him—it had to stop there, otherwise she’d be right back to where she was with her husband. Needing a man who didn’t need her. Grateful for what he gave her, for what she could never return. “Okay. You want me to take back the money?”

She knew she couldn’t. Celeste was right. He was right. Everyone was right about that damn barn. “Why … why are you giving us this money?”

Eli took off his hat, setting it carefully on the counter next to the champagne, and rubbed his hand over his face, through his hair. “Because I have it.” His eyes were weary, so weary, and she wanted to touch him as if it were the middle of the night in his dark, dark bedroom. “All I’ve been able to offer people most of my life is shit, because that’s all I’ve had. And I want to offer you something more.”

“You’ve given me enough, Eli.”

That seemed to make him mad, his anger filling out his chest, the whole room, and she stepped back.

“You mean when I tied you up? When I told you to suck my cock? That’s enough for you?”

She blushed so hard she got dizzy, tongue-tied. “Yes … I mean, no. I just … I don’t expect more.”

“Is that your way of telling me I shouldn’t expect more from you?”

The silence buzzed like a swarm of angry bees.

“What … what are you saying?” This couldn’t be happening. Couldn’t be happening. Did he … love her? Eli? Was that possible?

“Look at you, so scared. Forget it, Tori. The money is yours.”

“Eli … I’m not looking for another relationship … my husband—”

“Is dead. Dead. And that woman you were when you were married to him—she’s dead, too. And if it’s just sex between us, that’s fine. My mistake for thinking there was something more.”

For a moment her brain scrambled, everything flipping over and then back. This man led a solitary life. The only connections he allowed himself were shallow ones. Sex in his truck. No women in his house. He was a fortress, and she hadn’t even realized she’d stormed the gates.

He’d probably let her in farther than he’d let anyone in since his mother had left him. And she’d just kept hammering away at every door he put up, every lock he put on, until he’d had no choice but to open up.

“Do you … love me?”

His dry chuckle hurt like a match across her chest. “What do I know about love, Tori? Nothing. I like you. A lot. And I just wanted to share in something good. That’s all.”

“I’m sorry … I don’t know what—”

“Now you’re pissing me off.”

“I like you too, Eli. A lot.” She smiled up at him until finally he smiled back at her, his hand curving around her waist.

“Then say thank you,” he whispered against her lips. “And take the money.”

“Why in the world couldn’t they get more comfortable chairs in this place?” Eli asked, searching for some spot on the hard-backed chair beside his father’s bed that wouldn’t make his ass go numb.

“Most people bring in their own furniture,” Caitlyn said, not looking up from the chart she was scribbling
on. Her fingernails were red, with little dragons painted on them. So intricate, he wanted to get a better look, but she kept her distance. “Comfortable chairs, pictures, blankets. Homey stuff.”

Eli looked around the blank and bare room. The way it had to be for his dad to keep any kind of equilibrium.

His ass was just going to have to stay numb.

“They also bring their own Thanksgiving dinner,” she said, nodding at the turkey and congealed gravy on the plastic plates from the cafeteria.

“Yeah, well, I’m not much of a cook.”

He was fully aware of how sad this scene was, sitting here with his unconscious father while Victoria, Jacob, and everyone else dined on Ruby’s no-doubt-delicious dinner.

Victoria had invited him, but he’d declined.

Things were getting complicated. The painting at the ranch was over, but Victoria and Jacob were still at his house. There was an unspoken agreement between them that it was okay for Jacob and Victoria to stay.

His silent house was full, all the time, with chatter and laughter and video game beeps and cell phones ringing. At night, Jacob had nightmares and Eli stood outside the door of that guest room listening to Victoria whisper to him, calming his scared, little-boy tears.

Last night Victoria had climbed into Eli’s bed and he knew it was because of the investment he’d made, the conversation they’d had a few days ago about his feelings.

Gratitude and something like pity had been in her eyes. Which had pissed him off.

He ran a hand over his neck, across his cheek, feeling the scrape of his beard. He was embarrassed by how he had used her. Flipping her onto her stomach so he didn’t have to look in her eyes. Putting his hand over her mouth
when she started to scream, making her come until she begged him to stop.

Afterward she’d asked him again to come to Thanksgiving dinner with her family, and he’d told her to leave his room.

Not his finest hour.

“What about you?” he asked Caitlyn. “Working on Thanksgiving. Is someone keeping a plate warm for you?”

“I’m, ah … I’m back with Jimmy,” Caitlyn said, her smile shy but sweet. “He stopped drinking. We’re going over to his family’s place tonight.”

“That’s great,” Eli said, and she glanced up, clearly surprised by his earnestness. “I’m serious, you deserve some good stuff, Caitlyn. You really do.”

Those little dragons on her fingernails winked in the sunlight as if in agreement.

“What’s …” He pointed at her hands. “What’s the story with your nails?”

“Oh.” She laughed, curling her hands into fists in embarrassment. “My sister and I are taking some classes to get a part-time job. You know, nails and things. We’re trying to save a little money.”

Nails and things. Spa stuff.

“There a lot of jobs around here for that?” he asked.

“Not really,” she said. “We’d have to drive to Dallas.”

“You hear about what’s happening over at Crooked Creek?”

She laughed. “Everyone’s heard about it. A spa?”

“Go apply.”

“No.” She shook her head. “I haven’t even graduated. They probably want someone …”

“Just like you. Apply.”

She blinked at him, as if unsure of what to do with this version of him. As if some other animal had taken his place. God, he thought, had he been so bad to her?

The wariness on her face said it all.

The answer was yes. To her, he’d been awful.

“I’ll put in a word for you. A recommendation.”

“Okay,” she said, that smile coming back, the one that had drawn him to her in the first place. The smile that made her great at her job, that would make her great at the spa. “That’s great. Thanks.”

He nodded, and the two of them stayed in that room—more comfortable together than they’d ever been when they were involved.