Forever Dreams (Montana Brides) Page 18

  Alex reached for the bag of potato chips spilling over the table in front of him. “He’s been working in Texas for a couple of weeks and before that he went out to California. Some movie producer wanted his rodeo scenes to be authentic.”

  Ben grabbed the chips out of Alex’s hands. “He should have hired real bulldoggers to wrestle those steer then, and not pretty-boy movie stars.”

  “You saying I’m not pretty?” Alex grinned.

  “Damn straight,” Ben laughed. “You’ve got so many scars and bruises on that body of yours that only someone with bad eyesight could call you pretty.”

  Trent let the easy banter continue. He needed answers, but there was obvious, and then there was stupid. He’d been both when he’d married Gracie and he wasn’t going there again. After everyone had said their two cents worth, he turned the conversation back to where he needed it to go. He passed Alex a cold can of cola.

  “Gracie’s a teacher and her kids are interested in the rodeo. Kristina invited her across to look at your dad’s trophies and things he collected when he went overseas.”

  Alex raised his eyebrows. “And I take it Gracie is your dearly beloved?”

  Trent nodded. Gracie wouldn’t consider herself his dearly anything, but they didn’t need to know that.

  Alex tipped back his head, swallowing a gulp of cola. “He’s got half a lifetimes worth of rodeo stuff stored in the garage. We used to go poking through the boxes when we were kids.”

  Nathan disappeared into the house, coming back with a plate of steak in one hand a bag of bread in the other. “We’d better eat something before Adam goes back for seconds. Who’s got the ketchup?”

  “Here.” Greg came outside waving a red container in the air. “What have I missed?”

  Alex cleared a space on the table for the steak. “Her name’s Gracie, and the girls in her class like bulldoggers.”

  “She teaches eight-year-olds in New Zealand, not twenty-two-year-olds.” Trent moved his chair, making room for Greg at the table.

  “Damn,” Alex groaned. “There goes fantasy number six.”

  “I don’t want to think about what the rest of your fantasies involve,” Trent sighed. “When did your dad tour New Zealand?”

  Alex speared a piece of steak with a fork and dropped it onto some bread. “Let’s see…” He reached across for the ketchup, squirting a healthy dose over the meat. “It was the last rodeo tour dad ever did outside of the States. Mom was still pregnant with me when he left, so it must have been about thirty-two years ago.”

  Trent choked on his cola.

  “Jeez, dude,” Alex grinned. “I know I’m getting a little long in the tooth, but you don’t have to act so surprised.”

  He glanced across the table. Nathan wasn’t laughing, and those damn eyes were seeing far more than Trent wanted anyone to see.

  Ben slapped his back as he dropped a steak sandwich in front of him. “Eat up, bud. You’ve got a tale to tell and a horde of women due back in a few hours.”

  Trent looked around the table. They’d all had their share of ups and downs, some worse than others. But through it all they’d always been there for each other. No matter what had happened, they’d never deliberately lied to each other. They might have twisted the truth sometimes, but never lied. He was about to change that.

  Four weeks ago he’d thought Jim Green stood a pretty good chance of being Gracie’s father. Now he knew there was almost no chance he wasn’t her father. He couldn’t let anyone, especially Alex, know what was happening. If he got a whiff of something weird going on with his dad he’d be on the phone to Jim, digging into thirty years worth of secrets.

  As soon as Gracie had her answers she’d pack her bags and head back to New Zealand. Away from Montana and away from him. And that caused an ache deep in his heart that he couldn’t begin to understand.

  Trent stared at the steak sandwich sitting in front of him. He’d just lost the appetite he’d arrived with, and he might have lost Gracie as well.

  The following night Trent watched Gracie twirl in front of the full length mirror in their room. Light blue fabric floated in the air and settled in a soft silk cloud around her legs. She couldn’t have looked more like Tinkerbell if she’d tried. Her hair had been folded into a fancy knot on the back of her head, drawing attention to her high cheekbones and long expanse of neck. Heat spiked through his body as he remembered nibbling her neck in Vegas.

  That heat dipped a few degrees when he thought about the news he hadn’t told her. Maybe he’d wait until tomorrow. Maybe not.

  A heavy dose of guilt had kept him awake half the night. He’d tossed and turned so much that Gracie had vanished into her old bedroom sometime after two o’clock, grumbling about needing her sleep.

  “What do you think?” Gracie frowned. “Trent? Are you listening? Is the bodice a bit revealing for the Sweet Pea Ball?”

  He moved the focus of his attention away from her neck and down to her breasts. If she asked him about any other part of her anatomy he’d explode on the spot. “Umm…” He cleared his throat. “The bodice looks fine.”

  It wasn’t the tight, low-cut bodice, or the layer of lace around the edge that made his brain malfunction. It was the way the silk pushed up the creamy skin inside the bodice that made him want to indulge in a quiet night on the ranch. He swallowed a laugh as Gracie started jumping on the spot. If that wasn’t enough to set his heart-rate hammering, she bent forward and jiggled her boobs. Right in front of him.

  She must have been happy with whatever experiment she’d been conducting because she gave him a satisfied smile and reached for her jewelry sitting on the dresser. He felt a goofy grin spread across his face at the sight of the opal pendent resting in her hands.

  “Could you do this up for me, please?”

  His hands shook as he clicked the clasp into place. He took an extra few minutes to gently rub the nape of her neck, hoping to rekindle a spark of chemistry. Gracie wasn’t in a biting mood. She didn’t wiggle her shoulders or even take the time to glare at him. Damn.

  He peered over her shoulder to see how the pendant looked. Bad move. The opal rested quite happily on the upper slopes of her super-enhanced cleavage. Trent knew what that felt like. It was one place he’d like to visit again if he got half the chance.

  As far as he could make out, that wouldn’t be happening anytime soon. Apart from one kiss that had given him false hope, Gracie had dodged all snuggling opportunities. He’d have thought sharing a bed with someone would open possibilities that might have been lacking in the middle of a field. But, no. Gracie had been up at the crack of dawn each day, outmaneuvering every attempt he made to keep her tucked up in his arms. Rule number one was still in force and he hadn’t had to worry about getting anywhere near the second rule.

  Gracie moved closer to the mirror, squinting at her lips. Looking slightly happier after a quick lip smacking pucker, she turned toward him. “Are you ready to go?”

  Trent straightened his tie. He’d put on the same suit he’d worn in Vegas, hoping Gracie might get a sudden urge to re-explore what was underneath. But she didn’t look even remotely tempted. “Ready and willing, honey.”

  Grabbing his hat, he bit back a laugh. He should have known marrying Gracie would always create more problems than it solved.

  A bubble of excitement lodged in Gracie’s throat as they walked through the main entrance of the Jefferson Ballroom. Everyone had dressed in evening gowns and suits, ready to dance the night away at the Sweet Pea Ball. Her gaze wandered around the room. From the silver, shimmering fabric draped over the walls to bowls of deep red roses decorating each table, the ballroom looked majestic. Tall arched windows overlooked the setting sun and a huge marble fireplace, at least twice as high as Gracie, stood in the middle of one wall.

  “Do you know if Kristina’s coming to the ball with her husband, Trent?”

  He glanced down at her, then looked across the room. “They’d normally be here, but they’ve gone on
holiday for a couple of weeks.”

  Gracie smiled at an elderly couple. “I’m beginning to think they’re avoiding me,” she whispered.

  “Who? The people that just walked past?”

  “No. Pay attention, Trent. Kristina and her husband. Every time I think they’re going to be somewhere they don’t show up. I’ve never known two people to be so busy all the time.”

  “Jim runs his own company. He travels a lot.”

  “All I’m saying is that it seems a bit odd. Adele said you’ve known their son Alex for years. Has he ever mentioned anything about his dad’s life on the rodeo circuit?”

  “Not a lot. There’s mom.” Trent pointed across the room. “Let’s go and see if she knows where we’re sitting.”

  Gracie frowned as Trent pulled her across the dance floor. If she didn’t know better she’d swear he was deliberately evading her questions. As they wove through the crowd, Trent didn’t seem inclined to linger with anyone. She’d learned more about Kristina and Jim from Adele than Trent had ever told her, and he’d been the one who had offered to help find her father.

  Karen stood beside Jordan and Tracey, the same girl Jordan had been smitten on at the barn dance.

  Karen kissed Gracie’s cheek. “You look beautiful. Is that the pendant Trent bought you?”

  Gracie nodded. “He must have inherited his good taste from his mom.”

  “Thank you.” A soft blush skimmed Karen’s cheeks. “It’s a wonderful thing when a man has an eye for what looks lovely on his wife. Trent’s dad had a lot of good points, but choosing jewelry wasn’t one of them. He was always happiest out on the ranch, not poking around a shopping mall.”

  Jordan wrapped his arm around Tracey’s waist. “Come on everyone. Let’s get a drink and head to our table. Dinner starts in half an hour.”

  “Trust you to be thinking about food, little brother.” With a grin, Trent turned to Gracie. “Would you like a margarita?”

  Her face flamed, remembering the trouble margaritas had gotten her into not so long ago. “No thank you. A mineral water will be fine.”

  “It won’t work you know.”

  Gracie could have swatted her husband’s smiling face with her evening purse, except she didn’t want to crease the satin. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Leave your wife alone, big brother. Can’t you see she’s dying of thirst?”

  It wasn’t thirst making Gracie feel desperate, it was her husband.

  Trent leaned forward and gently kissed the side of her face. “I’ll be back soon.”

  Watching his tall frame wind through the hall of party-goers, Gracie let out a long sigh. Seeing Trent in the same suit he’d worn in Las Vegas hadn’t helped unfuzz her brain. Since they’d left the ranch her memory had been replaying, in minute detail, where that suit had ended up.

  “You look as though you’ve won a major lottery and don’t know how to claim the prize.” Jordan moved closer to her, his eyes twinkling. “It’s the same newly-wed stare Trent gets when he looks at you.”

  “He’s probably just sleep-deprived and exhausted.” Throwing her purse over her mouth, Gracie wished the floor would open up and swallow her whole.

  Jordan laughed.

  Thank God he didn’t know the truth. The first week of married life had been exhausting, exciting, and plain hard work. But not for the reasons he imagined. Each day she got out of bed before dawn to avoid Trent’s warm body under the duvet. No matter where she went on the ranch, thoughts of his ready smile, quirky humor, and sexy body weren’t far from her mind. The more time she spent around Trent, the more she had to control her wayward thoughts. She needed to focus on the end goal of finding her father and forget about the in-between bits. But there was one obvious fault with that plan. It was the in-between bits were causing her the most problems.

  “Here you go, honey.”

  Gracie jumped at the sound of Trent’s voice. He held a glass of mineral water in his hand. “That didn’t take long.”

  “Nathan’s on bar duty. He thought I’d come to pay my debt from poker night so he let me jump the queue. I can always get you something a little stronger if you want to live dangerously.”

  Gracie ignored the grin on her husband’s face and took a sip of the water.

  Trent passed his mom a glass of white wine. “Jeff said to save him a dance, mom. He arrived a few minutes ago with the Carringtons.”

  Jordan smiled at his mom. “I think he’s smitten.”

  “Nonsense.” Karen blushed. “We’re too old to be smitten. Jeff’s my friend.”

  “Just remember your curfew, mom. Doris said you didn’t get home until after eleven o’clock last Wednesday night.”

  “Good Lord,” Karen huffed. “Is there nothing Doris doesn’t know?”

  Jordan shrugged his shoulders, “Beats me how she finds things out.”

  “It’s Tess’s café,” Trent said. “Between that and the craft group she’s got all her bases covered.”

  Trent was doing a pretty fine job of covering his bases too. Gracie frowned as he moved his arm around her back and began rubbing his fingers in small circles against her skin. If that wasn’t enough to make her body lean toward his tall frame, then the look in his eye told her that he didn’t care about cafés and craft groups.

  Gracie felt her stomach muscles clench. Her body began melt-down mode. She gulped more cool water. He’d just broken rule number one.

  Trent kept his expression bland as the conversation continued around them, and his hands kept wandering around her. She tried to catch his fingers and hold them to her side, but the rascal kept pulling them away. As soon as Jordan left to get more drinks, Gracie stepped away from her misbehaving husband and started talking to Tracey.

  It looked as though Trent was tired of playing by the rules. If the determined gleam in his eye was anything to go by, their hands off policy wouldn’t be making an appearance anytime soon. It would be up to her to tell him to stop or live with the consequences. She had a feeling she’d be living with the consequences.

  Later that night, Gracie sat back with a smile on her face. She’d enjoyed every minute of the Sweet Pea Ball. The dinner had been delicious and the band kept her feet tapping and hands clapping even when she wasn’t on the dance floor.

  Her eyes wandered around the room, coming to a sudden stop at a brunette wobbling toward them on five inch heels. Wearing a tight red dress that left nothing to the imagination and even less room for breathing, she headed straight for Trent.

  She looked at him with all the anticipation of a woman getting ready to enjoy something tasty for supper. The smile lost its punch when she realized Gracie happened to be sitting beside her catch of the day. “Well, aren’t you a sly one. I heard Trent had gone and got married. What a surprise.”

  Trent cleared his throat. “Gracie, this is Stella Lawton. Stella, Gracie.”

  Gracie stared at the woman making cow-eyes at her husband. So this was the mysterious Ms. Stella that she’d first heard about in Wal-mart. With the amount of eyelash fluttering going on, Gracie had a feeling Stella wasn’t too worried about the marital status of the men she met.

  Gracie might not have Stella’s cleavage or the lashes to work with, but she did have the man. She leaned against Trent, draping her arm along the back of his chair. Her fingers rubbed the nape of his neck in slow, obvious circles.

  “Why thank you, Stella. I can highly recommend married life. I’ve got a wonderful husband.” Gracie tried to look adoringly at Trent, but the laughter lurking in his eyes told her she’d failed miserably.

  Trent however, wasn’t slow off the mark. Without any extra encouragement he leaned forward, plastering the hottest smooch on Gracie’s lips she’d ever enjoyed in public. When she came up for air, Stella had disappeared, Jordan had a grin stuck across his face and Karen looked like the proudest mother-in-law Gracie had ever seen. Tracey sat with her mouth open, looking with a new found respect at Jordan’s sister-in-law.
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  Gracie’s skin felt like it was on fire, scorched from the inside by raging hormones running out of control. So much for being cool, calm and collected. Hot and steamy had nudged them out the door within seconds of locking lips with her husband.

  “Time to dance.”

  Gracie reached for the hand Trent held out to her. One look in his eyes and she knew she wasn’t the only one overheating. “Do you promise to be good?”

  Trent drew her toward him, holding her close to his body. He leaned down and whispered, “Real good, honey.”

  Gracie groaned. This really wasn’t going to plan. “I’m bringing rule two into play.”

  “What did you say? I’m developing a severe case of husband deafness.”

  “It means there’s no touching allowed.”

  Trent pulled her into his arms. “We didn’t make a rule that said dancing wasn’t allowed.”

  As they circled the ballroom, Gracie tried really hard to focus on why snuggling with Trent had been banned. But as soon as a reason appeared in her brain, it disappeared in a puff of heat.

  “I’m taking you home in half an hour,” he said. “So make the most of the ball. After this it’s just you and me.”

  A fine tremor slipped through her body as she rested her head against his chest.

  She needed a new plan. Fast.

  Trent looked across the truck at his wife. “Are those pre-dawn wakeups and long days making you a little sleepy?” He watched Gracie try to hold another yawn in, but her body refused to cooperate.

  “You’re working me too hard.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “Some might say not hard enough.”

  Gracie choked back a laugh. “Just keep your eyes on the road and get us home in one piece.”

  “You know what, honey?”

  “No, but I’m sure you’re going to tell me.”

  He chose to ignore her ungracious comment. “I’ve finally worked out how to beat you at your own game. Your days of ignoring the attraction between us are over.”