Her Rancher Rescuer
She got her footing and evened out her stride, keeping her chin defiantly raised. Jack was right. This felt much better than slinking away as if she were guilty of something! The only thing she was guilty of was trying to help.
The song playing was a fast one, so Jack steered her toward the bar first. “Tonic and lime for me, champagne for the lady, please,” he ordered, and in seconds a glass of fizz was placed in her hand. “Cheers,” he said, touching his glass to hers. “Come on.”
He took her hand again and led her to the fringe of the floor. They paused and she took a long drink of champagne, enjoying the bubbles as they exploded on her tongue. The last time she’d had champagne it wasn’t real champagne at all but the cheap fizzy stuff from the liquor store that cost less than ten dollars a bottle and was far too sweet. This was drier, with a bit of bite, and tasted expensive.
And just like that she was reminded once more that Jack Shepard was a millionaire. Maybe even a billionaire. Not that he put on airs or anything, or threw his money around. It was easy to forget when he was here, in a place like this, dressed like all the other groomsmen. Truth be told, on a regular day 90 percent of the guys here would be in boots and Stetsons. Jack’s sporting goods empire was huge and he ran some sort of outdoor adventure ranch in Montana. He’d been an Olympic downhiller, just missing the podium in his one and only games before going on to make his mark in the business world. And she’d been locked in a bathroom with him for a good ten, fifteen minutes.
The nervous giggle she’d been holding in slipped out.
“What’s so funny?”
“Nothing,” she answered, draining her glass of champagne and looking longingly at the empty flute. It would be gauche to ask for another, but oh, my, it was delicious.
She noticed Jack give a nod to the DJ, and seconds later the song changed to something slower.
He took her hand and led her to the floor. His fingers gripped hers, his other hand placed firmly on the hollow of her back as he drew her close. In her heels, she only had to tip her head a little to have her lips at the bottom of his ear. “You are used to people taking your orders,” she observed as their feet began to move.
“Yes, I am. But only when I’m being reasonable.”
“Are you ever unreasonable?”
He lowered his chin and looked down at her, his expression unexpectedly serious. “Not as often as I used to be.”
Something delicious swirled around in her tummy. “You mean you’ve left your bad-boy days behind?”
“Mostly.”
She blinked. “Mostly?” What did that mean?
“Well, locking myself in a bathroom with you probably wasn’t the most reasonable move. Though I must say I did behave myself. Even you can’t deny that.”
She was about to laugh when he said, “More’s the pity.”
And the laugh died in her throat, replaced instead by an acute awareness of what could have happened in that bathroom. What everyone probably thought had happened....
“They were going to talk regardless,” he said quietly, his lips against her temple as he read her thoughts. “This way they talk about you sneaking away with me instead of locking yourself away crying over him.”
He was right. And she would rather that, than everyone view her as pathetic, as they normally did.
As his hand rode perilously close to her tailbone, she recalled the scandal that broke just prior to the fall that messed up his knee for good. There’d been a photograph of him and a woman.... His coach’s wife, if she remembered correctly. Had he been in love with her? Licked his wounds in private? What secrets was Jack hiding beneath his cool, confident exterior? There had to be more to the man than what she saw. No one was that perfect.
“Do you love him, Amy?”
“What? Who?” she asked, confused.
They danced along to the music, feet moving in perfect rhythm. “Rhys Bullock. Are you in love with him?”
“God, no.” The denial came swiftly to her lips. Rhys was attractive, and for most of the women in Cadence Creek, the ungettable get. They’d gone on exactly one date and while he was nice enough, they hadn’t clicked at all. Catching the bouquet had been pure chance. And Rhys hadn’t exactly pushed her away during the dance. Rhys was a challenge to the female population of Cadence Creek.
“Then why the tears?” Jack asked.
She met his gaze. “Truthfully? Humiliation. It’s not every day that someone claims you’re the last woman on earth they’d want to date. Now be quiet, eh? I have a lot more fun when we’re not talking.”
His eyes flashed at her. “Be careful, talking like that could get you into trouble.”
“You promised to be honorable.”
“I still have to drive you home. The night’s not over yet.”
Again, the curl of excitement wound through her as he flirted. She was under no illusions. There was no future with Jack. He was not a romantic prospect or a ticket anywhere, nor did she want him to be. But he was fun and interesting and different and exciting, and at this moment those were fantastic attributes. It beat the hell out of chocolate fudge ice cream and a ten-year-old chick flick on cable.
His arm tightened around her, pulling her closer against his length. He still wore his tuxedo jacket, unbuttoned, and her fingers pressed against the rich, thick material. She slipped her fingers beneath the lapel and felt the heat of his skin through the satiny material of his vest. “You have a lot of layers on,” she murmured, her lashes fluttering as the hand at her waist kneaded the top of her tailbone.
She was deliberately tempting him. After they’d already set out the ground rules.
“Say the word and they’re gone,” he answered, calling her bluff.
She kept silent.
“This is a killer dress,” he commented. “Little black dress sounds so simple. But it’s not simple on you.”
“Is there a motive behind your compliments? Or are you just keeping up the charade?”
“It’s the truth. You look beautiful tonight. The men of this town must all be blind if they can’t see it.”
She shrugged. “I’ve lived here all my life. I’m not a novelty.”
“They’re blind and stupid, then.”
She smiled. “You’re doing a good job, anyway.”
“A good job?”
“Of turning the situation around and puffing up my ego. You were right. A dance was a better idea than running off with my tail between my legs.”
“We only forgot one thing.”
“We did?”
“Well, yes. If you want everyone to believe you don’t give a damn about Rhys.”
Curious, she tilted her head up to meet his gaze. Suddenly she couldn’t hear the music, couldn’t see the other partygoers around them. She was oblivious to everything but Jack. The way he looked, all suave and debonair with his dark hair and bedroom eyes and broad shoulders. But more than that was the way he was looking at her. Like she was the only woman in the world. No one had ever, ever looked at her that way.
It seemed the most obvious thing for a kiss to be the next step. They slid into it naturally, like they’d done it a thousand times before. Her head tilted slightly to the left, there was a first meeting of lips, then they opened a little wider as they tasted and explored. It felt strangely familiar and yet somehow brand-new. They kept it light, kept their hands where they belonged, especially considering they were in public. But it was a hell of a kiss all the same—the kind of kiss that made her toes curl in her platform pumps and goose bumps shiver over her skin. And when it was over her breath was coming a little bit faster than before. Wow.
“If there were ever any doubt...” he said, putting the final bow on the top by touching his lips to her temple in a tender and intimate gesture.
But his words made Amy go suddenly cold, like she was splashed with icy water. This wasn’t real. It was an act, a performance. A charity service. It was all about perception. Showing the town that she didn’t give a damn about Rhys Bullock and his insults.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.”
But Jack was smart. Especially for a guy. He squeezed her hand to get her attention. “You think because we let them see what we wanted them to see that it wasn’t real.”
“What a charming way you have with words,” she replied drily, her gaze sliding away.
“You think it was an act.”
“Wasn’t it? A lovely stage for me to save face for a few minutes. What’s in it for you, Jack? Something to keep you from being bored?”
His jaw tightened. Had she struck a nerve?
“Would that be so bad?”
She hated that the immediate answer that came back to her was no. The problem was there was no excitement in Cadence Creek. No adventure or challenge. It was always the same, day in and day out. She longed to get out, but every time she thought of escaping she thought of leaving her mother alone and couldn’t quite do it. As much as she got frustrated with her mom, she worried about her. Amy was sure Mary was depressed. And she hardly ever went out.... How could Amy possibly leave her to fend for herself?
“Well, it’s humiliation of a different sort.”
“News flash,” he said in a low voice. “Being with you is a great distraction. There are far worse things than holding a beautiful woman in your arms.”
“That might be nice if I thought you meant it.”
A wrinkle formed between his eyebrows as he frowned. “Amy, we danced twice tonight already. It was fun. There was eye contact and we flirted. Did it occur to you that maybe I didn’t like the thought of someone like you being in that bathroom crying over some guy who’s not worth it?”
“No.”
“No what?”
“No, it didn’t occur to me.”
“Why?”
“Because in my experience most guys don’t give a good damn about my feelings.”
“Then you’ve been hanging around the wrong men.”
“No,” she corrected, suddenly feeling like telling the absolute truth. “It’s me. I’m messed up and guys try to stay away from that kind of crazy.”
She was surprised when he burst out laughing. “What’s so funny?” she asked.
He looked down at her warmly. With—she would swear—affection. “Amy, I used to hurl myself down the side of a mountain at over eighty miles an hour. I like crazy. Besides, I don’t think you’re crazy at all. Misunderstood, maybe. But not crazy.”
That he could be so astute momentarily silenced her. The music faded and he moved his hand at her back, letting her go but still holding tightly to her right hand. “Are you ready to go now, or would you like to stay a little longer?”
She looked around. A few faces were staring in their direction, but not all. Some were at the bar, some were in groups talking, others were taking to the dance floor. The truth was she was tired of them all. All the familiar faces, all people who knew—or thought they knew—far too much about her. She couldn’t wait to get out of here. “I’m ready. My coat’s at the check.”
“You get it and I’ll join you in a moment. I’m just going to say goodbye to Callum and Avery.”
Of course. The bride and groom. His brother and new sister-in-law. Ignoring anyone who might want to speak to her, she made straight for the coat check. She was just tying the belt of her coat when Jack came up beside her, holding a bottle of champagne in his hand. “What are you...?”
He got his coat, tipped the coat-check girl and put a hand on her elbow. “I got the impression you liked the champagne.”
She couldn’t lie. “I did.”
“And that you might just happen to like me a little bit.”
“You’re not exactly a troll.”
He chuckled and opened the door to the outside. The frigid wind blasted against her, eating through the thin material of her stockings. He put his free arm around her and bundled her close as he led her across the parking lot to his rented car. “So leaving the dance doesn’t mean having to say good-night. I swiped a bottle from the bar. Come back to the B and B with me.”
Chapter Two
The B and B. Amy wasn’t exactly sure how much privacy they’d have there. And then there was the matter of what Jack expected out of tonight. She was tempted. Oh, so tempted. But she wasn’t the kind to spend a night in a man’s hotel room. Especially one she barely knew. She was more on the fairy-tale end of the spectrum when it came to romance, and not the fast and loose.
He opened her door and helped her inside, then jogged around the hood and got in, turned on the engine and let it warm up. It was better out of the wind but still cold, and she wished the heater would kick in.
“I don’t think this is a good idea,” she said, regretting having to say the words but determined to make a smart decision for once in her life.
“Why not?”
“For exactly the same reason nothing happened in the ladies’ room.”
“You’re not the casual-sex type.”
“You’re a risk taker. I’m not.” Even if at times she rather wished she was.... Maybe she would have let Cadence Creek see the back of her long before now. Some days she worried she was turning out more and more like her mother. Afraid. Stuck in a rut and never strong enough to get out. God, she hoped she wasn’t that person.
Heat began to surround her feet. Jack rubbed his hands together. “No sex,” he said. “I’ll make a solemn promise that this is not a hookup type of proposition.”
She tilted her head as she looked at him. “Then why? I mean...what’s in it for you?”
Their gazes locked for a few seconds and then he looked away. “Honestly? I’m looking forward to taking off this jacket and tie and just hanging out for a while. Not being ‘Jack, the Groom’s Brother,’ who says and does all the right things.”
Surprise rippled through her. Maybe Perfect Jack was just an act? Or at least covering the real Jack.... And boy, oh, boy, could she understand that.
“Look,” he said, “just come back, have a glass of champagne with me. I was on chauffeur duty today and abstained all night. We can just chill and then I’ll walk you home.” He gazed at her sharply. “You do live within walking distance, right?”
“Just off of Main, on Maple.”
“Scout’s honor, Amy. We won’t do anything you don’t want to do.”
That was just the problem. She didn’t know what she wanted. And if she had some of that champagne, she wasn’t sure how much willpower she’d have to turn away a man like Jack Shepard. The kiss on the dance floor was still front and center in her mind.
“An hour,” she finally said. “That’s all. An hour and a glass of champagne and then I go home and you go back to...”
Gosh, she didn’t even really know where he called home, did she?
“To my ranch in Montana.”
Montana. One summer she and her mother had taken a trip across the border through Glacier Park and spent a few days in Kalispell. It had been beautiful. They’d driven past this resort-type place that was huge, and she’d wondered what it would be like to stay there, order room service and look out at the mountains. Instead they’d gotten a room at a nationwide discount chain. It had still been fun, but even then, Amy had wanted more.
“I suppose you have a huge place there,” she said, blowing on her fingers as he drove out of the lot.
“It’s a working ranch. I bought it a few years ago with the idea of turning it into a corporate retreat. I spent some time in the area on vacation and really enjoyed the physical challenges, so I flew in my whole management team and we did this week-long team-building thing. It was so much fun I decided to have a go at it myself.” He smiled. “Now I consider it home. I still keep an apartment in Vancouver, but I’m not there much. Turns out I’m not much of a city guy when all is said and done.”
Jack was different when he talked about his ranch, more relaxed, animated. She got the feeling that this was closer to the real Jack than the man who had ridden to her rescue in the ladies’ bathroom.
“Do you wear the boots and hat and the whole nine yards?”
He laughed. “Of course. All our cattle work is done on horseback. We do a few drives during the year, not to mention the trail rides.”
She sighed. Just when she thought how different he was from the men she knew, it turned out he was the same, after all. After living her whole life in Cadence Creek, she was a little tired of the whole cowboy scene.
It took hardly any time to reach the town, and with a few quick turns Jack pulled up in front of the B and B. He grabbed the champagne and came around and opened her door, offering her his free hand.
The owners had gone to bed but Jack’s parents, Susan and Harry, sat up in the parlor, quietly talking and enjoying a glass of wine. Amy felt her face twist into a guilty expression the moment they stepped into the room.
“Jack, dear.” Susan suddenly noticed Amy behind him. “Oh, hello.”
“Hello, Mrs. Shepard.”
Parents were not part of the plan. This was the worst idea ever. She should never have gone along with it.
Jack put the champagne bottle down onto a side table and began unbuttoning his overcoat. “It’s a cold one. I invited Amy back for a drink. I hope that’s okay. Both of us were getting a little tired of the festivities.”
“Of course. We were just heading to bed....”
Harry’s brows were slightly raised, inquisitive. Jack grinned. “Why don’t you stay up and have a glass of champagne with us? It would give us all some time to just hang out and chill. It’s been a crazy few days.”
Harry nodded, as if satisfied. “Yes, it has. Your mother and I had quite a job getting Nell down for the night.” He nodded at a baby monitor beside him. “I wouldn’t say no to champagne. You open it while I grab some glasses, Jack. Kathleen showed me where she keeps them.”
While the men got the drinks, Amy took off her coat and hung it up on the antique coatrack in the corner, nerves tumbling around in her stomach. She’d met the Shepard children during the wedding planning, but she’d only really seen Mr. and Mrs. Shepard from a distance. Now she knew where Jack got his aura of success and Taylor got her class. It was intimidating as hell. “It was a lovely wedding,” she said to Susan, scrambling for something to say.
“Yes, it was. If I remember right, you work at the flower shop, yes?”
“I do, yes.”
“The flowers were beautiful. You did a great job.”
If nothing else, Mrs. Shepard was trying to be nice. “Melissa does all the designing. Though she has shown me how to do some simple arrangements.”
“Do you like it there?”
Amy shrugged. “It’s okay.” She smiled. “I actually like the business side of it better, but it’s a small shop. Know what I mean?”
Susan smiled. “Actually, I do. Not enough challenge to keep you going.”
“That’s it exactly.” Amy smiled. Jack’s parents weren’t anywhere near as intimidating as she expected. At least his mother wasn’t. Harry Shepard carried a distinct air of authority.
There was a loud pop and then glasses were filled. To Amy’s surprise, she and Jack sat on the sofa together and everyone simply chatted—about the wedding, about Cadence Creek, about Callum and Avery’s daughter, Nell. Clearly the elder Shepards were enjoying being grandparents. Finally Susan stifled a yawn. “Oh, my goodness. I think it’s time I went to bed. We’ve got to be up with the baby in the morning, and to see Callum and Avery off on their honeymoon.”
She stood and came to Jack, who also stood for a hug. “It was good spending some extra time with you, sweetheart. We don’t see you enough.”
“I know.” He grinned at her crookedly. “You should come down to the ranch for a week. I’ll take you zip-lining.”
Harry chuckled. “Maybe we will. I’d like to see your mother on one of those contraptions. Good night, son. And you, too, Amy. It was nice to meet you.”
“Nice to meet you, too,” she said, and meant it.
They hadn’t spent an hour sipping bubbly in Jack’s room, but in some ways this had been better. She’d felt welcomed and relaxed. It was, to her surprise, the perfect ending to the day.
They said their good-nights and Jack turned to her. “I suppose this is where I say I should walk you home,” he said.
“I suppose it is.” She stood and put her glass down onto a coffee table. “I’ll get my coat.”
“Not so fast,” he murmured, catching her hand when she would have turned away. He pulled her back so that she was in front of him. He put his hand at her waist, his fingers sliding along the soft material of the curve-hugging dress. “I was on my best behavior,” he murmured, his voice low and intimate. “I kept my promise, too. The least you can do is give me a kiss good-night.”
“I suppose it is only fair.” She smiled up at him. If nothing else, in the past few hours Jack had given her something that she hadn’t had in a very long time: acceptance. She hadn’t felt the need to be anyone other than who she was. Hadn’t felt pressed to meet any sort of expectation. Perhaps that was because the Shepards hadn’t been in Cadence Creek very long. Or perhaps it was because they were a genuinely nice, normal family.
And after tonight it was unlikely she’d ever even see Jack again. The least she could do was take a kiss to remember him by.
She tilted her face up and kissed him, and with far less reserve than she’d shown on the dance floor. His arms came around her and pulled her close; she twined hers around his neck and slid her fingers through his hair. They were as close as two people could be with their clothes on, pressed together at several contact points. Jack’s hands roved over her back and came to tangle in her long curls as he tilted her head back and took command of her mouth. He tasted like man and the rich, erotic tang of champagne.
If he asked, she realized, she might reconsider her earlier bargain.
“Do you know how beautiful you are?” he asked roughly. “If I didn’t have to leave tomorrow night, I think I’d actually consider seeing where this leads.”
“But you are leaving tomorrow night.”
“Yes.” He nibbled at her earlobe and her eyes rolled back in her head with pleasure.
“And you’re not coming back.”
“Well,” he said, and he kissed her neck just below her ear, “I’m back on Christmas Eve and gone again Boxing Day.”
“And spending it with your family.”
“Yeah.”
They kissed a little longer until they were both out of breath.
“Jack, you should take me home. This would be a foolish mistake.”
She stepped backward, her chest rising and falling with exertion, her body humming with arousal. Of all the times to be sensible...and yet she was somehow happy about her choice. She was nearly twenty-five. It was time she took control of her life rather than simply letting it happen to her, time she decided what it was she wanted and found a way to get it. She could start by not letting herself get swept away in a moment that would only be a dead end.
She’d figure the rest out in time. Changing your life was a big job for one night.
“You’re right. I’ll get our coats.” He stepped back and ran a hand through his hair. “But dammit, Amy, you are not an easy woman to walk away from.”
As he disappeared around the corner toward the foyer, Amy bit down on her lip and blinked a few times. Jack couldn’t possibly know that that was the sweetest thing he could have said to her tonight.
* * *
AMY COULDN’T STAND being in the house another moment.
It was Christmas Eve. It should have been a time for happiness and joy and presents and carols and hot chocolate spiked with peppermint schnapps. Instead there wasn’t even a tree up at her house. A little-known secret—if Cadence Creek had any secrets—was that Christmas simply didn’t happen at the Wilson house in any way, shape or form. Not since she was ten years old and her dad had walked out on her and her mother on December twenty-third. Neither of them had seen him since.
It made Amy bitter. Naturally it had ruined that Christmas, but she didn’t see why it had to ruin every holiday since. But her mother was adamant. No tree. No turkey dinner, no Miracle on 34th Street.