Forever Cowboy (Montana Brides, Book 5) Page 7

  “If you wiggle any further down the seat you’re going to fall on the ground.”

  Emily glared at Gracie, her soon to be ex-best friend that had pushed her into Joe’s Bar and Grill. “I’m not wiggling,” she hissed. “I’m hiding. You didn’t tell me Alex was coming.”

  “Must have been my forgetful pregnant brain.” Gracie patted her round tummy, smiling across the table as if she didn’t have a care in the world. And maybe she didn’t. But Emily did, and most of her concerns revolved around Gracie’s half brother.

  She looked at the pink umbrella leaning against the edge of her glass, hoping the crowd of cowboys and school teachers would shield her from the man she’d seen far too much of over the last couple of weeks.

  “Who has their baby shower in a bar, anyway?” she muttered.

  “Move over, grumpy.” Nicky slid along the vinyl seat, pushing a plate of hot fries into the middle of the table. “Tell me why you’re sitting in a booth when there are at least a dozen sexy men within ten feet of you.”

  “You’ve only been married for eighteen months. Isn’t there a rule that says you’re not supposed to notice any sexy men except your husband?”

  “Not that I’ve heard of.” Nicky took a sip of Emily’s drink and winced. “Apart from having strange taste buds you’re the perfect woman. You’re single, over-the-top gorgeous and my sister. What more could a man want?”

  Emily pulled her drink closer. “I’m not interested in dating anyone. And leave my drink alone. I’m wallowing in self-pity.”

  “Who said anything about dating,” Gracie said, picking up one of the fries and blowing on it. “Talking’s a good place to start.”

  “Forget about the dating thing,” Nicky said. “Why are you feeling sorry for yourself?”

  Gracie looked over the top of Emily’s head. “Don’t look now, but Alex is heading over here. He doesn’t look happy about something.”

  Emily pushed against Nicky’s arm. “Move it, sis. I’ve got to use the bathroom.”

  “No, you don’t.” Nicky grinned. “You’re just trying to get away from Alex. I’m not moving.”

  “If you value being my sister, you’ll move your size six body now or I’ll jump over the top of you.”

  “Why can’t you admit that you still like him?”

  “Because I don’t like him. He annoys me and makes me want to…”

  Alex stood beside their table. All five-foot-eight inches of pure ornery bull staring straight at her. His gaze flicked across to Gracie. “Trent’s been trying to call you. He’s still at the ranch. One of the heifers went into labor a couple of hours ago and they’re having problems.”

  “Poor man’s got more pregnant females around than he can cope with.” Gracie sighed. “Did he say how long he’d be?”

  “No idea. Doc Johnson’s gone out to see if he needs a hand.”

  Emily looked between Gracie and Alex. “But Doc Johnson’s a human doctor. Why is he helping Trent?” Alex turned his head toward her. She felt her face flaming redder than the cherry bobbing in her drink.

  “The vet wasn’t available.”

  Emily stared at him. He wasn’t making much sense, but then she’d always had a hard time understanding how his brain worked.

  Alex nodded at Gracie. “Trent said to check the batteries on your cell phone.”

  “I swear that man is going to worry me into an early grave.” Gracie unzipped her bag and glanced at her cell phone before waving it in the air. “One fully recharged cell phone and no husband in sight.”

  “At least someone listens to what a man has to say.” Alex sent a pointed look in Emily’s direction.

  “Only when a man makes sense,” Emily replied. “And painting the ground floor orange is not what I’d call sensible.”

  “It’s called Goldfish and it’s a hundred times better than Bordello Red.”

  Nicky looked between Emily and Alex. “You two sound like an old married couple.”

  “Drink this.” Emily pushed her drink across to her sister. “It might unfuddle your brain. There’s a really good reason why I stopped dating Alex two years ago. He’s totally color blind and thinks he knows everything there is to know about interior design.”

  “I give up,” Alex said with a snarl. “The painters arrive at seven o’clock sharp on Monday morning. If we haven’t agreed on a color before then, I’m telling them to paint the walls white.”

  “You wouldn’t dare.”

  Alex took a step forward, leaning his arms on the table. “Lady, the way I feel right now I’d just as soon paint the whole building white.”

  Emily pinched her lips tight and didn’t say a word.

  “With black stripes and yellow dots,” he added with a smile that bordered on downright dangerous.

  “Shoo.” Gracie waved her arms in front of Alex’s face. “Cody just walked in and he needs male company. He broke up with Jacinta a few days ago and he’s feeling sorry for himself.”

  Alex pulled an envelope out of his back pocket and handed it to Gracie. “Happy baby shower.”

  Emily didn’t care if Gracie thought her brother was the second most amazing man on the planet. For three weeks, he’d been driving her insane with all of his talk about drywall and circuit boards. As soon as they got to the really exciting parts of the remodel, like choosing paint colors and light fittings, he’d decided to keep making most of the decisions.

  After looking at every paint chart known to mankind, there was no way the walls of her boutique would end up orange or white, and that’s all there was to it.

  Gracie smiled as she opened the envelope. “Thank you. Baby Universe won’t know what’s hit them when I take Trent there.”

  “Just don’t take Emily. She’ll dress your baby in Bordello Red and say it’s next season’s must have color.”

  Emily picked up her Bordello Red cherry and threw it at Alex’s chest. Hard. He caught it in mid-air and popped it in his mouth.

  “Monday morning, otherwise the walls are white,” he said. Then he turned on the heels of his scuffed boots and headed across to the bar.

  “Well…” Nicky said. “I wouldn’t have thought Alex could get so hot and bothered about anything…or anyone.”

  “Don’t look at me like that,” Emily said. “He’s annoyed because I don’t agree with him.”

  “Really?” Nicky reached for another French fry. “It didn’t look like that to me.”

  Emily didn’t trust the grin on her sister’s face. “Alex is my business partner. We have a professional relationship and nothing more.” And just to prove how professional she could be, she spent the rest of the night avoiding him.

  ***

  Emily hauled the last bucket of paint off the counter. “Thanks, Jake. I appreciate you opening the store a little earlier for me.”

  Jake Stanley owned the busiest hardware store in Bozeman. He sold everything from hammers and nails to power tools and paving stones. Emily had decided long ago that Jake deserved a gold medal for community service. His store had become a social hub. A place where anyone with a hankering for strong coffee and good conversation could come and pass the time of day.

  Jake shook his head and tisked. “A little thing like you can’t go around lifting heavy buckets. You open the door and I’ll take it out to your truck.”

  Emily smiled as Jake hurried around the counter. She didn’t bother arguing with him because they’d already had the same conversation over the other four buckets sitting under her canopy.

  “Are you sure this is the color you want?”

  “Yes, Jake.” They’d had this conversation before, too.

  “Is Alex going to unload everything when you get to the old library building?”

  Emily opened the tailgate and waited while Jake pushed the bucket beside the others. “He’s meeting me later.” Lying wasn’t one of her strong points and she felt the skin on her nose stretch uncomfortably.

  Alex didn’t know that she planned on painting as many wall
s as she could before Monday morning. No one did, except Jake, and he didn’t count because he wouldn’t be telling anyone.

  On Friday evening, Alex had headed across to his parents’ ranch for a weekend rodeo camp. Sam and Nicky were spending the weekend at home with Christopher, and Gracie wasn’t moving from her front porch. That only left Cody, and he’d gone to Great Falls.

  “I added another couple of paint trays and drop cloths to your order.” Jake slammed the tailgate closed and stood back with his hands on his hips. “If you run out of anything, just give me a call and I’ll drop it off after we close.”

  “You’re a sweetie.”

  Jake puffed his chest out so wide that the snaps on his shirt almost popped open. “Don’t let Doris hear you say that. After fifty years of marriage she thinks I need a little socializing every now and again. But once a gentleman always a gentleman, I say.”

  Emily opened her door and slid into the cab. “Doris is a lucky woman, Jake.”

  “Just promise me you won’t go climbing on top of any ladders. I don’t want to hear that you got yourself into trouble.”

  Climbing a ladder wouldn’t get Emily into trouble. But it would be a different story when Alex saw the color of the boutique.

  ***

  Alex drove down Main Street, enjoying the peace and quiet of a Sunday evening. He’d spent the last day and a half at his parents’ ranch with sixteen of the top high schools bull riders in Montana. They’d been training hard for the Nationals in Wyoming and had made the most of every minute with him. They’d walked, talked and ridden like professionals, and Alex had been impressed.

  He could have stayed with his mom and dad for another night, but it would have taken him half an hour longer to drive back to Bozeman the next morning. Mondays were always the busiest day of the week in the boutique. He liked to arrive early, review the work schedule and talk about any changes with the contractors. But most of all, he liked to set everything in motion before one pesky redhead made an appearance.

  Emily was driving him insane. When she wasn’t at home sewing, she followed him around the building like a second shadow. Except this shadow wanted to know everything about the remodel. And when she couldn’t be there she insisted he email her photos from his cell phone.

  When they’d finished scraping years of paint off the staircase, Emily had driven across town to have a look. He might have given her a hard time, but he had to admit he felt more than a touch of pride at the finished product. After a couple of coats of varnish, the wood turned to a rich honey, gleaming under the fluorescent lights someone had installed a few years back.

  And that reminded him about the electrician and the lighting catalog he’d left with Emily. God knew what light fittings she’d want to install. After their disagreement about the paint color, he wasn’t going to risk leaving any decisions until the last minute.

  He slowed down as he passed the boutique. Either someone had left the door open or they had unexpected visitors. He did a u-turn and parked outside Tess’ café. His heart rate kicked up a notch when he remembered the tools stacked on each floor. They hadn’t installed an alarm, figuring the town was more curious than criminally minded about what was going on inside the building. But curious people stuck their head in the door during normal business hours, not at five o’clock on a Sunday evening.

  He grabbed his metal crutch out of the cab. He might not need it for walking, but it would make a good weapon if someone decided to get rough. He ran his gaze over the front of the building. Apart from the front door being open, nothing looked as though it was damaged.

  He thought he could hear music. Country music. Not that he was biased, but he didn’t think anyone with criminal intentions would listen to country music. Which made about as much sense as finding the building unlocked. He pushed against the door handle.

  “What the…?” Emily had her back to him, rolling paint the color of ripe raspberries on the walls. The green scarf knotted on her head bobbed in time with the music. Every now and then she started singing in an off-tune, no one’s listening kind of way.

  He walked across the room and switched off the music. Emily spun around. The roller in her hand clattered to the floor and she nearly leaped as high as the ceiling.

  “Jeez, you gave me a heart attack.” She looked at where the long handled roller had landed and grabbed it off the floor. With a scowl plastered across her face she asked, “What are you doing here?”

  “I was going to ask you the same question.”

  Her face turned as red as the wall she was painting. “I had some free time, so I thought I’d do something to help.”

  He looked around the room. Emily had painted one wall as far as the first set of bookcases. She’d made good use of the scaffolding, but he didn’t have a clue how she’d managed to reach the underside of the moldings. When he saw the stepladder sitting on top of the scaffolding, his blood pressure went berserk

  “What the hell were you doing up there?”

  “Don’t roar at me, Alex Green. I was perfectly safe.” She glanced at the ladder. “I’ve painted walls before.”

  “Not balanced thirty feet in the air you haven’t. You could have killed yourself.”

  Emily’s green scarf slipped over one eye. She pushed it back up and glared at him. “Well I’m still here, so stop yelling and help me clean up the mess you made.”

  “I made?” He stomped across to the drop cloth covered in paint from the roller. “Anyone could have walked in here. You had the damn music up so loud that it was a wonder we weren’t robbed.”

  “I was listening to Dolly Parton.” Emily stepped back. Straight into the paint tray. “Oh-My-God,” she shrieked. Red paint splattered across the floor. She raced across the room, then realized her sneakers were coated with as much paint as the floor.

  She grabbed an old towel from a bag of trash and threw it at him. “Here, take this and mop up the worst of the paint. If it soaks through to the wood, Cody’s going to kill me.”

  Cody would have to stand in line, Alex thought as he dropped the towel to the ground.

  “Try not to push the paint into the drop cloth.” Emily undid her sneakers and left them beside the paint tray.

  “How would you like me to soak up the mess?” Alex asked through gritted teeth.

  Either Emily didn’t hear the growl in his voice, or she pretended not to. “Kind of scoop it up. I don’t know how waterproof the cloth is.”

  He muttered under his breath and wiped up what he could. A plastic bag appeared under his nose.

  “Throw it in here.” Emily shook the bag for good measure, like he was a horse waiting for his oats.

  “I don’t know whether to strangle you or tell you I like the color of the paint.”

  A slow smile spread across Emily’s face. “You do?”

  “But it’s not Goldfish.”

  “It’s not Bordello Red either.”

  The grin on her face left him feeling like he’d jumped off a boat in the middle of a storm. He felt so off center that he didn’t know what was going on. One minute he was terrified that she could have killed herself and the next minute he wanted to do the deed himself.

  He took his time getting back on his feet. Focusing on standing upright had to be safer than thinking too deeply about what was happening.

  “Here…” Emily held out his crutch. “I asked Jake to mix both colors together.”

  Alex thought about that for a minute. “What if you didn’t like the way it turned out?”

  Emily shrugged her shoulders. “I knew it wouldn’t look too bad. It’s better than orange and gives the red more sparkle.”

  He looked at the walls. He couldn’t see any sparkle, but it didn’t matter. Emily was happy and he was happy that she wasn’t standing thirty feet in the air on a stepladder. “Why didn’t you use the color you wanted?”

  Emily crossed her arms in front of her chest. “I’m tired of arguing with you. Each day I come into the boutique it looks more am
azing. I get annoyed because I can’t come here as much as I’d like to. I want to help make the building beautiful, but I just seem to get in everyone’s way.”

  And just like that she left him speechless. Her big blue eyes stared straight at him and he felt like the biggest idiot this side of the Rockies. He’d let her down, let himself down. Let their mixed-up, complicated relationship down. And he didn’t know what he could do to make everything right.

  He stuck his hands in his jacket pockets and said the only thing he could. “I’m sorry.”

  Emily took a deep breath. “That’s okay. I’m used to being overlooked. Most people think that because I’m short I can’t do things. But I’m as tough as an old pair boots when I need to be.”

  “Okay, Ms. Tough Boots. How can we make this work?”

  Emily grinned. “Funny you should ask that.” She ran upstairs and brought back a board that was almost as tall as she was. “This is my mood board.”

  “Your what?”

  Emily flipped the piece of cardboard over. “I do this all the time when I start a design project. If I want to play around with themes, or styles, or anything really, I add pictures to a mood board. Pretty soon you see a pattern emerging. At some point, everything comes together in a perfect whole.”

  “And this is your perfect whole for the boutique?” The photos Emily had stuck on the board were a strange mix of the Orient meets Italy. Geisha girls in red kimonos held bright yellow and pink fans. Carpets in burnt orange and deep blue sat beneath marble tables and gilt-framed mirrors. And at the center of all the color and texture was a huge crystal chandelier.

  “What do you think?”

  “It’s…well it’s…”

  “Overwhelming?”

  “Colorful.” Alex couldn’t see how the pictures would inspire anyone. Then again, he wasn’t the world’s best authority on design. He’d stretched his comfort zone with the orange paint he’d chosen. But geisha girls?

  “Look past what your eyes see and think of the possibilities.” Emily grabbed his hand and spun him around. “Imagine everything downstairs painted in shimmery red. We could put gilt-framed mirrors on the walls and they’d reflect the light from the stained glass windows. Persian rugs would soften the room and make it cozy in winter. My mannequin frames could be made from the finest black steel. And here…” She waved her arm in the air above the staircase. “A chandelier. The biggest, sparkliest chandelier I can afford.”