Sleigh Bells in Valentine Valley (16 page)

A
t nine the next morning, Tony opened his door to find Kate standing there, dressed in a fashionably puffy vest that would have fit in in Aspen—or Vail, where she lived. Her jeans were tight the length of her legs, all the way into her tall leather boots. He leaned against the door frame and just looked her up and down, silently remembering those long legs wrapped around his waist, the hot water running over their bodies.

“Are you going to invite me in,” she asked, then whispered, “before I read every desire on your face?”

There was a blush on her cheeks he knew didn't come from the cold. “I don't know. You sure you're taking my son to the hot springs, not horseback riding with Will?”

Her purple eyes sparkled with merriment. “Did that casual invitation bother you, ex-husband of mine? You did a pretty good job of hiding it from everyone else, though not from me. Is that why you—”

He covered her mouth with his hand.

“I don't care who you date,” he said idly, wondering if it would be difficult to get those tight jeans off her without her help.

“Sleep with,” she said in a lower voice. “You care about that.”

“Only because I know you'll be sleeping with me for a while.” He leaned closer, heard her breath hitch. “And I didn't see you looking this flustered when Will asked you out.”

“Because he didn't really ask me out,” she insisted, not meeting his eyes. “Honestly, do you think he'd ask a woman out in front of her ex-husband?”

“Will? Sure he would.”

Her eyes widened. “Oh. I didn't take it that way.”

“Well . . . I don't think he exactly meant it that way either.”

Shaking her head, she rubbed her gloved hands together.

“Come on in, Ethan's not quite ready yet.”

After unzipping and removing her boots and leaving her vest on a chair, she followed Tony down the hall to his kitchen. Over his shoulder, he saw her peer into the living room with interest, but he hadn't really changed anything since the last time she'd been there. Just comfortable furniture and a big TV for sports and Ethan's video games.

In the kitchen, he had the newspaper spread over the table, a few dishes in the sink, and a full pot of coffee.

“Want some?” he gestured to the pot. “Help yourself.”

Smiling, she took a mug off the top of the toaster—handy, close to the pot—and poured herself a cup.

“Want part of the paper?” he asked. Maybe if they read the paper, he wouldn't stare at her and drool, remembering what they'd done less than twelve hours ago.

She shook her head. “I have something I want to talk about. It's why I came early.”

He was automatically wary and vaguely surprised to feel that way.

She knew him too well. “Tony, it's nothing major. I just couldn't sleep last night, and I lay in bed
thinking
.”

She emphasized the last word because the thought of her in bed without him had made him look at her breasts, encased in a tight purple sweater.

He grinned. “Thinking of what?” He let his foot touch hers under the table, the age-old game.

She gave him a mock frown, glanced toward the doorway, and whispered, “Stop that!” then spoke in a normal voice. “It all started when the widows pointed out that you don't advertise Tony's on social media.”

He rolled his eyes and slouched back in the chair. “Not this again.”

“No, listen. I kept thinking there might be a way for me to prove to you the advantages, but you'd need something new and interesting to promote. And with all the talk last night of people's hobbies and interests, it made me realize I could be a part of some event at Tony's, too.”

He kept a frown off his face, but he was feeling it. Whenever she started talking about changing things at the tavern, he got defensive. He kept telling himself there was no reason for it, that she was just trying to help, that she truly had changed. But it was hard to forget that once upon a time, she hadn't thought tending bar was enough of a career for him.

“So, the guitarist from the band playing Wednesday night hit on me, and we got talking.”

That
distracted him. “Why didn't you tell me? I'd have kicked him out for harassing my servers.”

She took a sip of coffee, eyeing him from beneath her brows. “That's why I didn't tell you. He was a funny kid and I didn't mind.”

“Kid, huh?”

“I don't know, twenty-one, twenty-two? He had the long hair in a ponytail.”

“Yeah, I remember him. And I'll keep watch next time.”

She cocked her head. “You'll keep watch on me?”

“No, on him. Nicole or any of the others don't need that either.”

“You think
Nicole
would mind?”

They paused, then shared a chuckle.

“But he gave me an idea,” Kate continued, leaning toward him. “Perhaps we need something bigger to promote, some way to celebrate the season, get people excited.”

“The season's already here, Kate. And I already told you the events I hold.”

“I know, I know, but I'm thinking something bigger than a pub crawl, held between Christmas and New Year's. There's always a lull, and it's not like we could do something so last minute on New Year's Eve. Every band is booked, according to Patrick.”

“Band? You want to hire Patrick's band again? Holly and the Cowboys?”

“Not just Patrick's. I think Tony's needs a
festival
of bands, one long evening or part of the day, where a handful of bands play.”

He gaped at her. “A festival—do you know how much work you're talking? And where would we put all these bands? A band already takes up too much room in the back and—”

“Wait, wait, you didn't let me finish. We'll hold it outside in the parking lot! We rent one of those outdoor stages on wheels, blast some portable heaters at the bands—hearing they were going to use those at Brooke's wedding reminded me about them and sparked the final idea. We set up a tent for beer sales, tents for food—Chef's food, of course. While bands are changing over, people might come inside to get warm and order even more. You make this a big event by promoting it through social media and the traditional methods, of course, posters, your website, etc. What do you think?”

Kate was bright with an excitement he hadn't seen in her in a long time—if you didn't count last night. It made her eyes luminous, her skin flushed, and much as he thought she looked gorgeous, her looks couldn't sway him in anything but sex. There was a resistance deep in his gut to changing something about the tavern he was so proud of.

“Kate, I don't think so.”

Her happy smile faded. “But why? I know there are a lot of details to be worked out, but I'm willing to do the work.”

“Did you ever think that maybe you should be relaxing over the holidays like regular people would if they had some free time? Now you want to add another job to server—event coordinator?”

“But Tony, you know me, I like to keep busy.”

“I do know you—and you like to keep
too
busy. I know what you're trying so hard not to think about.”

She frowned. “And what am I trying hard not to think about?”

“Your job, of course—your real one. It's sticking in your craw that your bosses don't agree with you.”

“Well, of course it bothers me that they won't at least compromise. It means they don't trust that I know what I'm doing.”

“And now you see why I'm resistant to this festival idea.”

Her mouth dropped open. “You think I don't trust that you know how to run your own business?”

“I don't know, Kate. You never exactly trusted me before.”

She inhaled sharply—and then they both heard a floorboard creak. Ethan was standing in the doorway, looking both sheepish and embarrassed.

“Sorry. Not used to knocking on the kitchen door,” he said, backing out.

“No, Ethan, don't go,” Kate said, giving Tony a glare that their son couldn't see. “We're just having a disagreement about work. It's nothing.”

Ethan sighed with more drama than normal. “So you're moving back to Vail.”

Her eyes widened. “Not right now. Why would you think that?”

“No reason.” Ethan went to the cupboard and reached for a box of cereal.

Kate met Tony's gaze, and the anger of their argument had turned to bewilderment. Tony shrugged. The kid was just confused by finding them arguing. Hell, maybe it brought up an echo of a memory from when Ethan was a little boy. But they'd always been very careful not to argue in front of him.

So while Ethan ate his cereal, Kate listed off the things they were going to do in Glenwood Springs.

At last she turned her gaze back to Tony. “I know I've made this trip sound so exciting. You're welcome to join us.”

“No, thanks. I've got to work later today.”

At last they were out the door, and Tony was left alone to mull over what he'd said to her. Only the truth—that she'd never trusted him. A wife who loved her husband trusted that he could provide for them. And it had been damn obvious, by how focused she'd been on her law degree toward the end of their marriage, that she hadn't. Not that she shouldn't have wanted to be a lawyer, but to sacrifice their family life? To work herself so hard that he sometimes had to remind her to eat? Watching her get thin and stressed had been terrible. He'd loved her so much.

It had always seemed like she'd wanted respect from everyone else—law professors, fellow students, and now his customers—more than she'd wanted love from her family, from him.

But that was unfair. He knew living apart from her family, her son, had taught her the importance of love in her life. Maybe it was he who couldn't let go of the past.

K
ate floated in the giant outdoor pool at Glenwood Springs, the heat rising in a mist that hung over her, making her feel languorous and relaxed, although her mind still resisted by churning away. The Flat Top Mountains rose above her, and she planned to take Ethan into the Glenwood Caverns high above the valley later that afternoon. He was swimming laps in the heat, racing a friend he'd run into. She shuddered. It was too hot for exercise.

So she floated and let the heat work on her muscles, but it wouldn't work on her brain.

Tony thought she hadn't trusted him.

During the arguments that had led to their divorce, it had been about wanting different things in life: her, Denver and the successful big-city law career she'd worked so hard for; him, the small-town life of Valentine Valley. Neither of them had seen their future the same way, and neither of them had been able to persuade the other to change. Their arguments had been more about confusion and desperation rather than hatred. But always, deep inside, she'd felt that
someone
had had to provide for Ethan and their future. She'd thought he'd had no ambition, and as someone with probably
too
much ambition, she just hadn't been able to accept that. And she hadn't wanted to be the one with the salary, and therefore all the power, in their relationship.

But was Tony right—had it really been about trust?

Maybe it had; maybe Tony was right about the fact that she'd thought him untrustworthy, which had somehow sabotaged them both, sabotaged their marriage. She groaned and closed her eyes. The disintegration of a marriage was never just one person's fault, but it hurt to think she could be so shortsighted as to affect a man's confidence.

Failure weighed heavily on her. She'd failed her marriage, but she had worked hard not to fail at being a mom. Now she was failing as a lawyer. The lump that welled up in her throat caught her by surprise, and she looked around to make sure Ethan wasn't nearby. He was rising up out of the water, shooting a ball at someone, playing dodgeball in the pool.

With all of her worries about failure, her son was proof that she'd done something right.

O
n the twenty-five-minute drive home from Glenwood Springs, Ethan got a text from Kate's mom, inviting them both to dinner. Kate told him to say they happily accepted.

“Mom, I wouldn't say ‘happily' in a text.”

“Just write it! It's polite and Grandma will appreciate it.”

He groaned.

At the Fenellis', she was not at all surprised to see Tony there—he did live next door. But what did surprise Kate was that Tony and her dad were building a bookcase in the living room. She well remembered the woodworking Tony had learned from his dad, but he'd never done much of it early in their marriage—no room for a workshop in their tiny apartment, and certainly no time. But now, a tool belt around his waist, he looked all rugged and manly, guiding her dad through the process with the same patience he showed every customer at the tavern.

He glanced up at her when she came in, gave a nod, then a smile to Ethan, and went back to work. She tried to pretend it was nothing, but inside, she was wracked with guilt mixed with desire mixed with confusion and even determination.

“Just one more shelf, Christina,” her dad called.

He used a hammer on something, and Barney barked with excitement.

“Tom, if you make me overcook the chicken parm, I will not be happy!” Christina called from the kitchen. “Oh, hi, Kate!” She bustled into the living room to give Kate a kiss. “Tony, you are staying for dinner.”

“Maybe you want time with Kate,” he replied. “You see me all the time.”

“No, it's okay,” Kate said. “You certainly deserve a meal after this hard work.” She walked over to the bookcase. “Really nice work, guys. Dad, did you actually put on this scroll trim?”

“It was mostly Tony,” Tom said, his face shining with perspiration.

“Not true,” Tony said. “I showed him how, and he did a few himself.”