Ever After at Sweetheart Ranch (11 page)

“Oh, right, I'll do that when we hang up. But yeah, I don't think everyone will get it, but . . . some might.”

“Including Will. Who you're now dating.”

Lyndsay sighed. “I know, I know. If he figures it out . . . he'll think it's funny, right?”

“I don't know. I have to read it first. We're getting off the phone so you can send it. I can sleep in tomorrow, so I'll start reading tonight—­oh, Lynds, I'm still so excited for you!”

Lyndsay smiled. “Even with my Will homage?”

“Even then. You've made your dreams come true. You sold a book, you asked Will out. You should be so happy with yourself. Good night!”

“Night.”

Another text came through:
Send me the file!

Lyndsay stared at the phone for a long moment, her amusement slowly fading, before heading for her laptop to send the file. Yes, she'd sold a book, and that was a high that would be hard to top. Asking Will out had meant exploring her crush and putting it back in the past, where it belonged. But since she didn't know how it would turn out, she'd reserve the right to regret it in the end . . .

 

Chapter 10

A
fter a long day of grading papers and working on her next book, Lyndsay was really looking forward to getting out of the house—­even if it meant their friends got the first glimpse of Will and Lyndsay as a ­couple. She could only hope that since Kate had already heard, word had gotten around, saving her from the expressions of shock.

She got a text from Will at dinnertime:
Can I pick you up around 8?

Smiling, she responded:
Oh, this is a formal date?

I think we should arrive together and shock them all.

Then it's a date. See you then.

Promptly at eight, her doorbell rang. She opened it, enjoying the intent way Will studied the length of her body before whistling. She was wearing a white jean skirt with her cowboy boots, and an orange halter-­necked top that left her shoulders bare.

“Darlin', you look great,” he said.

She blushed with pleasure at the huskiness in his voice. “Thanks. So do you. I love a Western shirt on a man.” And tight jeans and cowboy boots, and that certain way he tipped his Stetson . . .

“It's the pearl snaps,” he drawled. “Does it to a woman every time.”

She laughed. “Let me get my purse.”

“Aren't you going to invite me in? I've never seen your house.”

“Oh . . . okay, don't mind the mess.” But all she could think was,
Where did I put that copy of my book?

As he perused her small living room and then the kitchen, she remembered she'd left the book in her office. When they entered her little hallway, she quickly closed the door.

“Storage room,” she said nonchalantly. “It's a disaster. I've been going through teaching files, trying to decide what's out of date and what's not.” God, she was rambling.

He just smiled at her, that dimple in his chin so deep and masculine. And then he saw her bedroom—­at least she'd made the bed. But there were shoes all over the floor.

She shrugged. “I couldn't decide if I should wear sandals or flats, and ended up settling on the cowboy boots.”

“You made the right choice.”

He actually started to step into her room.

“You don't need to go in there.” She slid in front of him, trying to be playful, when she was really starting to forget
why
he shouldn't go in there.

He braced both arms on the doorjamb over her head and leaned closer. “It's a nice, big bed,” he murmured, then pressed a kiss just below her ear, beneath the fall of her hair.

Her eyelids fluttered closed and she swayed toward him. God, he smelled so good, like warm soap and fresh rain. But she stopped herself. “Okay, this is dangerous. Let's go to Tony's.”

And she ducked beneath his arm to the sound of his chuckle.

At the front door of Tony's Tavern, Lyndsay took a deep breath.

Will pressed close behind her and whispered, “Should we hold hands? Or should I carry you across the threshold?”

“Stop it,” she said, laughing. “Let's just try to be normal.”

He cupped her face and kissed her quickly. “Whatever you want.”

She blew out a breath. “You need to stop doing that. It's hard to think.”

“You're good for my ego. I never knew I had such power over women.”

“Liar. You've always known.” She turned to push open the door. She wouldn't have taken his hand—­it's not like she had to show him off by saying,
See, I can date him, too.
But Will took
her
hand.

The place was crowded, as usual, and lots of ­people called a hello or gave them a second glance as they worked their way toward the bar. Tony was there with the other bartender, Lamar Cochrane. Lyndsay didn't bother trying to find a spot; she only worked her way to the far end and stood waiting. Will remained behind her, his hands on her hips. She felt like they were already dancing.

Tony approached them when he had a chance, bringing a ­couple beers. Then he just eyed them impassively.

Lyndsay smiled. “We're dating. You okay with that?”

“Sure.” Then he glanced at Will.

Neither man said a thing, but something passed right over her shoulder between them.

“Okay then,” she said brightly. “Let's go try to find a table in the back room.”

“Good luck with that,” Tony said and turned back to work.

This time Will led, holding her hand again, using his broad shoulders to clear a path. She felt downright feminine, and it was sweet.

It was actually easier than she'd thought to sit down, although they ended up with two stools at the counter that ran along one wall behind the pool table. They had friends there, but ­people were having their own good time and didn't pay much attention to them.

Will sipped his beer and looked around, then had to lean toward her to be heard. “Telling your brother was pretty easy.”

“Kate told him I was going to ask you out. But there's that eyeball-­laser thing that shot between you.”

He shrugged. “It's a guy thing.”

“Then let's talk about what you said at the front door, that you never knew you had power over women. Come on, you've practically been dating since middle school. You had to know you exerted influence of some kind.”

“Middle school? Wow, you give me a lot of credit.”

“It may have been the age of group dates, but you went on a lot of them, if memory serves me.”

He grinned and crossed his arms over his chest. “I did.”

“And you were often ‘going out' with girls”—­she used air quotes—­“which meant you were dating even though you technically couldn't go anywhere without your parents driving you.”

“True. Ah, the difficult years, when I just wanted to find out what it was like to feel a girl up.”

She laughed, then had to wipe her mouth. “Don't make me snort my beer.”

“You're so cute when you do it. I'm fond of your snorts already.”

God, he was good. Who wouldn't want to go out with him? But why did most women seem to give him up so easily, ruefully but not angrily? Guess she'd find out. And it gave her a pang, but one she forced herself to put away. She was getting him out of her system—­
not
keeping him.

“So you must have felt up a girl by eighth grade.”

“I did, but don't ask me to kiss and tell. It was a magical experience that still lives in my mind. Who knew girls were so soft and felt so good?”

He looked down at her breasts with some anticipation, and she figured he had a reason to feel that way. She was probably going to be a little easy where he was concerned.

“But how did you know you could have your way when you wanted it? It's such an insecure time, especially for girls.”

“I was insecure at first, too.”

“I don't believe it!”

“I was. Even after the first girl let me touch the fun parts of her, I thought I'd just been lucky. I always felt like I had to work hard to make girls like me.”

“You can't tell me you work hard at that now,” she said skeptically.

“Maybe ‘work hard' is the wrong way to phrase it, but I don't take women for granted.”

“No assuming we'll all fall at your feet?”

He dropped his hand to her bare knee, revealed by her skirt. His thumb made little circles.

“Nope. I think in high school I could have started gettin' a big head about it, but Brittany put me right in my place.”

The startled, dismayed expression that came over his face made Lyndsay hold her breath.

He glanced away, then gave her a rueful smile. “Sorry. I didn't mean to bring her up.”

“You can tell me anything, Will. She was a part of your life.”

“Yeah, but one I don't usually talk about.”

He said it with his usual polite friendliness, but she heard the “off limits” warning beneath. She wondered if that “polite friendliness” was a little bit like a mask he always wore. She'd never even seen him lose his temper. And he certainly never talked about Brittany.

She glanced into the open area, where Jess was dancing with Dom. Both were looking her way expectantly, and Lyndsay gave them an exaggerated frown. Will arched a brow at her.

“Jess was there when Kate and I were discussing dating you,” Lyndsay said. “Sorry.”

“It's okay. I'm glad you asked me out.”

“Don't say because you would have gotten around to asking me eventually.”

“I never would have said that. Because of Tony, I tried not to think that way about you.”

“I know. I did the same thing.” But she didn't fool herself into believing he'd once had a crush on her like she'd had on him. “So what have you done in the whole twenty-­four hours since I last saw you?”

He took a swig of his beer before answering. “Helped my baby sister move into her summer sublet.”

“Really? I'm kind of surprised. She lives in Denver during the school year, so I thought she'd be home.”

“So did my mom, who's not taking it all that well. But she's putting up a good front.” A frown briefly marred his forehead before fading away. “But it's not like Steph's in a bad part of town—­like we have all that many bad parts anyway. She's subletting from Monica, the apartment over her flower shop, since she and Travis just bought a house. Steph'll be practically right above the bakery, living next door to Brooke and Adam. If you can't feel safe next to an ex-­Marine and a cowgirl, you can't feel safe anywhere.”

Lyndsay smiled. “I know she's been living in a dorm, but she must be pretty excited to have her first place, even if it's only temporary.”

“She is. And Monica left most of the furniture for her, so that helped. Now she's in the decorating phase, and I had to leave before that drove me crazy. ‘Will, hang this. Will, hold that.' ” He shook his head.

“Well, I have news that might distract you. I forgot to mention this last night, but I had an interesting discussion with Mrs. Thalberg the other day about the historical society election. Seems she's been at odds with your grandma over some exhibits—­”

“Including the one about my great-­grandma's memorabilia. I've heard that over and over.”

“Yeah, you have to be sick of this already. But also, the widows were against the expansion of the museum, due to the higher ticket prices. So that's what's going on—­and not revenge for a high school slight from the fifties.”

“I always knew there must be more to it. But I gotta admit, I don't read the newsletters too closely.”

“Shame on you. I won't tell your grandma. And speaking of shame, where's your lapel pin? The one shaped like a pretty hat?” She batted her eyelashes at him.

He patted his shirt pocket. “Oh, darn, I forgot it. And besides, I think everyone knows who I'm voting for.”

“I should warn you—­I hear something might be coming our way as far as the election goes, and probably during the softball games Monday night. I only hope it won't be too outlandish.”

“You mean less outlandish than dressing up an elephant as a mammoth and parading it down Main Street? Less outlandish than leading a protest on behalf of a lingerie store by flinging bras into a tree?”

She laughed. “The widows at their best. I don't
think
we have any more parades in our future, but you never know . . .”

“Enough about other ­people.” He took her hand. “Come on, let's dance.”

She followed him out past the pool table, where ­couples crowded the small area. Sadly, the music remained fast a good long time, reinforcing to each other that they weren't all that great at dancing. Kate's brother Dave Fenelli, a sommelier at their family's restaurant, tried to cut in and steal Lyndsay away, but Will wouldn't have it, to her delight.

And then finally a slow song came on. Last Friday she'd felt awkward beneath her alcohol buzz, but tonight, she slid easily into his arms, letting him pull her right up against him, his thigh occasionally sliding between hers. For wearing clothes, it was pretty erotic. When he pressed his mouth to her bare shoulder, she could have melted into a puddle of desire. His hand rode low on her back, fingers just touching the curve of her butt. His other hand clasped hers and held it against his chest, and she felt his heart beating fast. With his head near hers, their hair gently touched.

They spent another few hours dancing and talking with friends. Kate arrived, and Lyndsay saw her examining Will when he wasn't looking—­then Lyndsay remembered that Kate had been reading her book today. Did Cody really come off as Will? It was the strangest feeling—­did Kate like the book? Was she disappointed or impressed? But they couldn't talk about it.

Lyndsay had gotten up early to work, so by midnight, she was struggling to cover her yawns.

Will, holding her hand, leaned near her ear and said, “Let me take you home, darlin'.”

She enjoyed the way that endearment rolled off his tongue.

This was the second time they'd left the tavern together, but the first time she'd been drunk and blissfully unaware. Now she couldn't help wondering what he was thinking. Earlier in the evening, he'd made it clear what he was thinking from the moment he'd tried to step into her bedroom. But he was a guy—­he was always thinking about that. Sex was about exploring and conquering new territory for them, at least at the beginning. She didn't mind at all being his new passion.

She slid into the pickup, smiling in surprise as Will shut the door for her. “What a gentleman.” Then she covered another yawn.

Wearing that adorable crooked smile, he came around the front and got in.

And that was the last thing she remembered—­until Will was carrying her up her front walkway. She awoke, drowsy and confused, to find herself snuggled against his chest, his arms behind her back and beneath her knees.