His Bewildering Bride (The Brides of Paradise Ranch - Spicy Version Book 3) (11 page)

Her heart seized up at the image. He was the fish, she was the bird, and they still hadn’t figured out where to build their nest, but oh, how she wanted to snuggle up in that nest and be settled.

She had to say something. They’d become so close in the past week, the past day in particular. She couldn’t bear to have the question hanging between them anymore. Returning with her work to the table, she cleared her throat and began, “Travis, don’t you think it’s time we…had a talk?”

His eyes jerked up to meet hers so fast that she was concerned he would hurt his neck, and his cheeks reddened. “A talk?”

Wendy glanced behind her. Elizabeth Haskell was monitoring the competition that afternoon while Mr. Gunn dealt with hotel business. She sat in a chair in the middle of the room, reading a book. Beyond her, Melinda was hard at work, her expression peevish. Honoria wasn’t there. She must have stepped out to use the facilities or grab a snack.

Satisfied she wouldn’t be overheard, Wendy said, “We need to decide if this is real.”

“Real?” Travis nearly choked on the word.

Her temperature seemed to rise by a hundred degrees, but Wendy nodded. “Us. You and I. This marriage. I…I can’t go on like this, living at the hotel while you live at the ranch. I need to know what our future holds and I…I need to get on with it, whatever we decide.”

Travis’s shoulders tensed. He lowered his work, though he continued to stare at it. His lips stayed pressed together as he took a breath. “Here I thought I was giving you some space to figure things out.” He glanced across to her. “I didn’t want to rush you.”

“I think I…I think we need to be rushed.” A surprise grin tugged at the corner of her mouth. “If there’s one thing I’ve learned in the last few days, it’s that we’re both the sort to be so polite that nothing ever gets done.”

Travis softened to a smile as well. “Yeah, except when it comes to sewing.” He lifted his work. “We’re aces at getting sewing done.

His teasing tone sent ripples of longing through Wendy. She studied him, studied the emotion in his eyes. Everything she’d ever wanted was right there, within arm’s reach, if she would just reach for it.

She did reach her hand across the table, inviting Travis to take it. “What I want is—”

A loud crash cut Wendy off as the ballroom door smacked open. Wendy yanked her hand back and turned to see Honoria stumbling into the room, Vivian and Bebe right behind her. Honoria was pale and her eyes were wide.

“Well? What are you just standing there for? Go on.” Vivian pushed her in the back.

Honoria took a stumbling step forward, then another. She darted a quick, panicked glance to Wendy before walking, as carefully as if she was treading on hot coals, toward a smiling Melinda.

“Ladies?” Mrs. Haskell glanced up from her book. “What are you doing here?”

“We’ve just come to see how Melinda is doing,” Vivian answered, all smiles.

“Yeah,” Bebe added. “To see how she’s doing.” Although at the moment, she seemed more interested in watching Honoria’s back with wide eyes.

Wendy narrowed her eyes and studied her would-be friend. Honoria was walking far too slowly and carefully. Her hands were clasped in front of her, and her face was pale with worry. Something else wasn’t right either. At some point, Honoria had changed clothes. That morning she’d been wearing a sleek and stylish gray day dress. Now she was wearing a full-skirted, pale green dress that was at least ten years out of style. No one had worn full skirts like that since—

Wendy caught her breath at the sight of a corner of white linen printed with violets popping below the hem of Honoria’s skirt. She checked to see if Mrs. Haskell had noticed, but the woman had gone back to reading her novel. Vivian and Bebe hurried Honoria the rest of the way to Melinda’s table.

Melinda casually knocked a pair of scissors to the floor. “Whoopsie,” she said, then bend over, disappearing behind the table.

Moments later, Honoria blushed and hid her face in her hands. She flinched just enough to hint that someone was tugging at her skirts.

“That’s the most blatant cheating I’ve ever seen.” Travis shook his head, a growl in his voice. “I don’t know whether to be furious or to laugh at them.”

“Don’t do anything,” Wendy cautioned with a sigh. “It would only muddle the competition.”

Travis gaped at her. “Muddle the competition? If this was a card game, every one of the Bonneville sisters would have just gotten themselves shot.”

He glared across the room again. Wendy looked as well. Mrs. Haskell was still reading and didn’t notice that the amount of finished work on Melinda’s table had miraculously doubled in the space of a minute, and Honoria’s skirt had shrunk just as unbelievably.

Wendy shook her head and reached for her own work. “They can cheat all they like, but you can’t run a dress shop by cheating.”

“Yeah, but you
can
win a competition that way,” Travis argued.

Wendy stared across the table at him. “Do the rules of this competition say that if Melinda wins but decides not to start a dress shop or gets bored with it after a few weeks that I can’t swoop in and take the prize after the fact?”

Travis’s brow lifted. “No. But if you’re going to start a shop and she isn’t anyhow, why are we working our fingers to the bone to begin with?”

A sly grin spread across Wendy’s lips. “Advertising.”

Travis blinked, then started to laugh. “Advertising my ass.” He blanched. “I mean, foot. Sorry, sorry.”

Wendy giggled at his profanity. After all, a man who was comfortable enough to loosen his lips around a woman might just be comfortable enough to discuss the future with her. “If I prove that I can do good work in a limited amount of time under pressing conditions, it’s as good as taking out an advertisement in a city paper,” she explained. “I want this competition to go on, no matter what it takes.” And she wanted Travis to stay there and sew with her.

“If you say so.” He sighed and picked up his work, squinting as he dove back into stitching. He paused a few seconds later. “What were you about to say just then?”

All of the heat that had dissipated when Honoria, Vivian, and Bebe waltzed into the room flew back to Wendy’s face. “I just think it’s time we settle things between us.”

“Oh. Right. Yeah. Me too.” He cleared his throat, squirmed in his chair, and put his work down again. “Well, I know that I want to—”

“Travis!”

This time it was Cody marching through the ballroom door that stopped the conversation before it could go anywhere.

Travis’s shoulders sagged and he muttered a curse under his breath that was far more colorful than his earlier slip. “Cody, what do you want?”

Cody approached Wendy’s workspace with slower and slower steps. He rolled his shoulders and barely glanced at Wendy. It was almost as if he was afraid of catching some horrific disease if he got too close to women’s things. Or perhaps it was just her.

Travis sent Wendy an apologetic look, then pushed himself to stand and cross around the table to Cody. “What?”

Cody risked another look at Wendy, then grabbed Travis’s arm and dragged him several yards away from the table. It wasn’t far enough to keep Wendy from hearing when he muttered, “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

Travis glanced past Cody’s shoulder to meet Wendy’s eyes with even more apology. Wendy pursed her lips and went back to sewing, pretending she wasn’t listening when, in fact, her entire being was focused on what Travis might say.

“Olga was injured yesterday, so I’m helping Wendy,” he explained.

“Helping?” Cody was incredulous. “By
sewing
? Travis, you’re a rancher. You’re a man. Men don’t sew stuff.”

Travis crossed his arms. “This man does.”

“Yeah, but—”

“Are you saying I’m not a man?” His tone was so challenging that Wendy’s lips twitched to a proud grin.

“No, but…yeah,” Cody hissed. “Come on, you can’t do this.”

“Why not?”

“It’s bad enough that you married her in the first place.”

“Excuse me?”

Travis’s voice rose enough so that Mrs. Haskell looked up from her book for a moment. Wendy’s face burned hot, and she lost her smile, but she kept her eyes on her work.

“Marrying Wendy was the smartest thing I’ve done in a long time,” Travis went on, just barely loud enough for Wendy to hear him. “You might not see it, but right now, the most manly thing I can do is pick up that needle and that frilly, purple fabric and sew tiny little stitches as good as I can.”

“But Travis—”

“There’s no but. Wendy is my wife. I care about her. She needs my help, and I’m going to give it to her, no matter what you think,
little brother
.”

A long, tense silence followed. As desperately as Wendy wanted to peek and see what kind of expression both brothers wore, she continued to pretend to mind her own business.

At last, Cody muttered, “Well, if it makes you feel any better, I convinced Mr. Garrett to talk to Mrs. Evans and Mrs. Piedmont to try one more time to send for a bride for me from Hurst Home.”

“You have
got
to be joking.” Travis raised his voice to the point where anyone passing in the hall would have heard him. He took a step closer to Cody. “Everything you’ve said since walking into this room—everything you’ve said in the last week—just proves that you are in no way ready for a wife. Any wife.”

“That’s not true,” Cody argued. “You’re just sore because Wendy wasn’t the right wife for me.”

“Oh, it’s more than that.”

“Well, she wasn’t,” Cody argued on. Wendy had to admit, she agreed with that statement fully. “She’s not right for you either.”

“I’ve had enough of you.” Travis stepped away from Cody, rubbing his clenched jaw. Before he turned away completely, he said, “What goes on between me and my wife is none of your business, but I can tell you this much—she’s very possibly the best thing to come my way in a long time.”

He didn’t wait to see how Cody would react. Instead, he stormed back to the worktable, snatched up the skirt he’d been sewing, and thumped into his chair. Wendy arched a brow at him, as if asking whether he was all right. When Travis glanced at her and nodded once, she snuck a peek at Cody. Cody stared right back, his face twisted in a look somewhere between confusion and frustration. Of all things, Wendy felt sorry for him. She wondered how old Cody Montrose was, how much or how little of life he’d experienced. Maybe this was the moment when he started to grow up.

“Ladies, it’s four-thirty,” Mrs. Haskell announced from her seat in the middle of the room. “I need to leave at five to make it home in time for supper. Mr. Gunn will be here at six-thirty to continue the competition, but you will have a break for supper.”

The announcement effectively brought an end to the tension between Travis and Cody. Travis glanced up and nodded to Mrs. Haskell with a quick, “Thank you, ma’am.” Cody let out a frustrated breath before turning and marching out of the room.

Chapter Nine

By the time Wendy and Travis sat at a small table in a corner of the hotel’s dining room, finishing the supper Mr. Gunn had provided for them, Wendy was a ball of nerves. The confidence that she’d had going into the competition had been slowly chipped away until all she could see were the pricks and callouses on her fingertips and the mountain of work that she still had to do.

“Mrs. Garrett’s dress is almost done.” She spoke mostly to herself, pushing green beans around her plate without any intention of eating them. “I’m sure you can manage the hem. But there isn’t time to have a fitting to make sure the hem is the right length.”

“Is that the kind of thing I could do for you now and have you redo after the competition is over?” Travis asked, then took a final bite of steak. He’d hung on her every word as she fretted through supper, but that was part of the problem.

Dragging her eyes away from her plate, she studied his earnest expression. “Yes,” she began again slowly. “But much of the rest of the work requires a delicate touch.”

“Well, I’ve got
a
touch.” Travis sent her a grin that was both bashful and teasing. “Can’t say it’s delicate, though. At least, not when it comes to sewing.” He added a wink to the end of his words. Immediately, his face flushed and his gaze fluttered down to his plate, as though he’d spoken out of line.

Wendy’s heart pounded against her ribs. Her whole body buzzed with the need to clamp her hands around his arms, shake him, and demand to know whether they would really be married or not. She couldn’t let it rest any longer, not when her every waking thought was increasingly consumed with him.

“Travis, I need to know,” she blurted before she could get cold feet.

“Know what?” He set his fork down and rested his hands on the edge of the table, almost as if he was bracing himself.

“I…” She needed to know if he loved her. No, they hadn’t known each other long enough for that, had they? She needed to know if he
could
love her, if he could want her. “Travis, I…” She pursed her lips. Why couldn’t she ask a simple question?

“I think I know what you’re trying to ask.” He kept his voice low, his expression serious.

He reached a hand across the table and took hers. Wendy’s heart shot straight up to her throat.

“You need to know what Cody said to me this afternoon,” he finished. “And you need to know what I think about it.”

“I…” Wendy’s mouth dropped open, but she had nothing to say. “Well, I suppose…”

“Cody has a lot of growing up to do still,” Travis went on. He cleared his throat, adjusted his posture, and squeezed her hand. “He’s just an overgrown kid in a lot of ways. He doesn’t understand things like responsibility.”

Was that what she was to him? A responsibility? Again, she opened her mouth to ask if that’s all she was or if there was any sort of love there, but nothing came out.

“He also thinks I’m a fool for spending my days sewing right now, but I told him that there’s nothing I’d rather be doing than helping you.”

The grin that followed his declaration was so pleased that Wendy didn’t have the heart to tell him she’d overheard his entire conversation. “Thank you for that,” she said instead. “It means so much to me. So much. But…”

Nothing. She lowered her eyes, unable to form her worries into words.

Travis’s pleased expression slowly dropped to concern threaded with frustration. “What is it? What’s the real problem? There’s something you’re not telling me.”

Wendy sighed and lowered her eyes. It was easier to face things if she didn’t have to see the kindness and warmth in Travis’s eyes as she did. “Travis, is this what you truly want?”

For a long moment, Travis was silent. He let go of her hand and shifted back in his chair. “I assume you’re talking about the marriage?” His tone was uncertain, hurt.

Pain pierced Wendy’s chest, but if it wasn’t going to work, it was better to deal with things immediately.

“Yes.” She forced herself to lift her chin and meet his eyes. “I know it’s not what you expected. Perhaps it’s not what you wanted.”

“That doesn’t mean it isn’t what I want now.” He watched her as if she was one of the calves he’d been tending the other day, and as if she might kick him.

“And my asking these questions doesn’t mean it isn’t what I want now either,” she rushed to say. “But the fact remains that there are impediments to the two of us having a happy union.”

His mouth twitched to a half-grin. “Impediments to a happy union? You have a way with words.”

“That…that may be part of the point.” Now that the wall had been breached, there was nothing to stop her from pouring her heart out. “Our lives are so different, Travis,” she went on, barely above a whisper. “It’s not just a matter of…of heritage.”

“
Heritage
, as you call it, doesn’t bother me,” he insisted. “Not now, not since I’ve gotten to know you for who you are.”

Tears stung the back of her eyes at his beautiful words. “I’ve never met someone so generous and liberal with their opinions.”

He smiled. “And I’ve never met anyone so beautiful or so strong.”

Part of her wanted to toss the table aside and fly into his arms. “That’s my concern, though.”

“What is?” He shook his head.

She sighed. “We come from different worlds. You’re so well-suited to a ranch, I’m suited to a town. Everything I do requires me to be in town most of the time, everything you do calls for you to live on a ranch. Aside from the differences in temperament and expectation, where are we supposed to live?”

“Bonneville has that cabin on his ranch.” Travis shrugged. “I think it says in the contract…” He hissed out a breath and squeezed his eyes shut. “I never went back to the front desk to get that contract. I bet Bonneville is mad as a rattler that I haven’t given it to him yet. He can’t come get it because he’s banned from the competition now, and…” His words faded and his eyes unfocused. He rubbed a hand over his face and sighed. “You don’t want to live that far outside of town, do you?”

Feeling like the biggest ingrate Wyoming had ever known, Wendy lowered her head and shook it. “It wouldn’t be good for someone trying to start a business the way I am.”

Travis blew out a breath and rubbed his jaw. “I suppose it would be valuable for the town dressmaker to live in town.”

“It’s not essential,” she added. “But I’ve been doing this for years. I know how things go. There are times when it is absolutely vital for a seamstress to stay at her shop late to complete an order on time. Things may not be like that in Haskell now, but they could be soon. I’m not sure you’d want me traveling five miles outside of town to Rex Bonneville’s ranch late at night, alone.”

“I certainly would not.” Travis continued to rub his face, looking pained. “There are houses in town. We could look into buying or building one here.”

“But then you would be the one traveling too many miles at all hours and in all weather to get to work. Is that really fair?”

“I don’t know.” Travis sighed.

“So…so does this mean that we should forget the whole thing?” she barely whispered.

Travis had been studying a spot on the table, but he raised his eyes to meet her gaze with such regret that Wendy’s breath caught in her throat. “Is that what you want? To call it all off?”

Wendy swallowed. It would be so much simpler if they took whatever way out of their hasty marriage that they could find. Feelings aside, he would be able to go on with his life and she would be able to build hers. Calling off the marriage didn’t mean they couldn’t still be friends. But was that what she wanted, what she
really
wanted?

The awkward silence stretched on between them. Everything had become so hopelessly muddled. She had accepted Cody’s offer to move to Haskell thinking she’d settle into a life as an everyday wife, but Travis’s encouragement had given her the courage to ask for more. Now that more was within her sights, though, it threatened the very reason she had made such a momentous change in her life. Worst of all, she couldn’t go back now, not physically nor in her heart.

“Well, this isn’t going to be solved tonight.” Travis tapped the tabletop and stood.

Wendy stood with him. “I don’t suppose it is,” she agreed, although every fiber of her being wanted an easy solution to appear before them.

Travis held out his arm for her. “Come on. I can walk you home for now, at least.”

With a wistful smile, Wendy slipped her hand into his elbow. They headed out of the dining room, nodding to Mr. Gunn along the way. It was already past six o’clock, and the hotel was quiet. Wendy had the nagging feeling that she was forgetting something, but her whole being was focused on holding her husband’s arm. Even though she couldn’t think of a thing to say as she and Travis climbed the steps and walked slowly down the hall to her room. Travis was just as quiet, wrapped up in deep thought.

When they reached her door, they stopped and faced each other.

“Here we are,” Travis said.

Wendy made herself smile. “Yes, I suppose so.”

He let out a soft laugh.

She loosened her grip, sliding her hand out of his arm, but he caught her fingers and lifted them to his lips. The kiss he placed on her knuckles sent sparks of longing straight up her arm and through to her core. The desperate longing and sadness in his eyes only intensified the feeling. When he let her hand go, it was as if she was a ship that had come loose from its moorings and began to drift.

“So I guess we...” He took a step away, then another, then turned.

“No,” she called out, heart nearly leaping up through her throat. “No, Travis, no.”

He pivoted toward her, and in two steps he was so close that she could feel the heat of his body. “No?”

She shook her head, terrified that she would burst into tears at any moment. “No, calling off our marriage is not what I want. It’s the last thing that I want,” she burst, not caring who might overhear them in the public hallway.

Travis drew in a breath. The sadness in his expression melted into something far more powerful and heated. He raised his hands to cup both sides of her face, then leaned toward her to capture her lips in a kiss of such passion that it left her dizzy. It was no quick peck either. His mouth encompassed hers, drawing her toward him body and soul. He teased her lips with his tongue, and when she opened to him, he slipped inside to explore more deeply. The heat and intimacy of his kiss tipped her off-balance and made her want to disappear into him.

Behind them the click of a door opening was followed by a man’s surprised grunt and, “Oh, dear me. I’m so sorry.”

Wendy gasped, and Travis stepped back, though his hands remained on Wendy’s face.

“Sorry, sir.” He nodded to the man standing in his doorway a few yards away. “My wife and I were just…” He didn’t finish. Instead, he reached for the handle of Wendy’s door.

Wendy giggled at the absurdity of the situation. Her door was locked, and she had to fumble for the key in her pocket before she and Travis could escape the censure of the other hotel guest. As soon as she turned the key, Travis pushed the door open, then drew her inside, shutting the door behind her, a little too forcefully.

“That was—”

She didn’t have a chance to say how awkward being caught was. Travis swept up to her, closing his arms around her and kissing her again with double the passion from the hallway. His hands pressed into her back, bringing her flush against him, as he nibbled at her lips, traced his tongue along hers.

More than a week’s worth of holding everything inside, telling herself she barely knew this man and her desire was inappropriate, fell to pieces. She circled her arms around Travis’s strong back, digging her fingertips into his solid muscles. Reason and sense and every logical argument of why the two of them would never work flew from her mind. The only thing she cared about was that this man was her husband and that she wanted him to be in every way.

“I don’t want to call it off either,” Travis panted. His hands reached for the buttons at the back of her bodice. “I want everything that is the opposite of calling it off.”

“Me too,” Wendy panted, tugging his shirt from the waist of his trousers.

“I don’t care what anyone else things, and I don’t care if I have to walk five miles in a blizzard every day, I want you.”

All she could manage was a passionate moan of agreement as his mouth recaptured hers. His fingers worked at the buttons down her back, fumbling them rather than opening them. He tensed, an impatient growl escaping from him, before his patience ran out. He grabbed hold of the fabric and pulled. Wendy gasped as her bodice burst free. The sound of buttons hitting the floor all around her was the most erotic thing she’d ever heard. A tiny voice in the back of her mind lamented the damage to her dress, but she was a seamstress; she could fix it.

With redoubled passion, she pushed the suspenders from Travis’s shoulders and went to work on his buttons. Between kisses that grew more fleeting and comical the more furiously they worked to undress each other, he pushed her bodice off of her shoulders, slipped the sleeves from her arms. A giggle formed deep in her throat as she pushed his shirt back from his shoulders only to encounter his undershirt. Travis had circled his arms around her in an attempt to loosen her skirt, but his fingers were lost in the fabric of the bustle.