Cathy Thacker - The Texas Rancher's Vow

Trying not to feel disappointed about the lack of company, she opened the stainless-steel fridge. It was filled with all sorts of goodies, and she was still trying to decide what to eat when footsteps sounded behind her.

Matt walked in, a disgruntled look on his face. He was wearing a clean pair of jeans and a plain white T-shirt. His hair was damp and he smelled of soap and shampoo. Which reminded her of their lovemaking that afternoon.

Had it only been eight hours or so since they’d been together? she wondered wistfully.

It felt like a lifetime ago.

More than a lifetime.

She studied Matt’s surly, withdrawn expression, and couldn’t help but wonder if Emmett was still feeling poorly. Or whether Matt had noticed. Even if he wouldn’t yet admit to himself that his dad was ailing.

A feeling of unease sifted through her. She had to tread carefully here so as not to let anyone down. “Everything okay?”

Matt shoved a hand through his curly black hair. “Depends on what you mean by okay.”

She drew a conciliatory breath and lifted her shoulders in a shrug. “Okay…”

Her pun did not elicit the smile she had hoped to see.

Which likely meant he was still wrangling with his residual grief.

All too aware that this was his domain, not hers, and she was simply a guest here—and at the moment, an inconvenient one—Jen shut the fridge.

Ignoring the hunger pangs in her tummy, she leveled an honest glance at Matt. “If you want me to clear out while you do whatever it is you came in here to do, I’ll return later.”

It was the least she could do, after thrusting Emmett and Matt back into the throes of grief, at least temporarily.

He rocked back on his heels. “You haven’t eaten dinner yet?”

Her stomach growled. Hoping he hadn’t heard that, she waved away his concern. “I got caught up in what I was doing.” I was also hoping to avoid running into you until I felt better able to honor Emmett’s request to keep his health issues secret.

Jen peered at Matt, noting he had shaved.

And though the clean-cut look wouldn’t last on him more than a few hours, it was nice at the moment. Made it easy to see how ruggedly handsome he was, even without the masculine stubble. Worse, it reminded her how much she still wanted to throw caution to the wind and make love with him again.

But adding to the emotional confusion simmering between them would be foolish. Jen had stopped being foolish years ago, because she knew no good ever came of it.

Aware that Matt was still studying her, an implacable expression in his intent, sky-blue eyes, she swallowed. “Surely you ate.”

He leaned against the kitchen counter, arms folded in front of him. “The storm the other night knocked down some fence. A hundred or so cattle wandered out, so they had to be rounded up and moved to another pasture until the fence could be repaired.”

So he hadn’t just been avoiding her.

“Sounds…challenging,” Jen remarked.

His expression didn’t change. “All in a day’s work.”

Was making love with her all in a day’s work, too? she wondered, then pushed the thought away. She had to stop thinking about Matt in romantic terms. Otherwise, she’d never get over their “fling.”

Never be able to finish her work here.

Keep Emmett’s secret.

Advance her career.

Keep her heart intact.

Matt might be able to handle a casual affair, but she couldn’t.

Not without losing a part of herself along the way.

Some of the tension eased. Matt moved past her, brought out a casserole of leftover chicken enchiladas, and containers of rice and refried beans. Set it all on the counter. He gestured at the fridge, which was loaded with other choices—all prepared by Luz, for weekend consumption. “Help yourself.”

“You sure?” Jen eyed what Matt had chosen. It looked awfully good, even cold. There was plenty.

“I think we can share a meal, even if we don’t ‘share’ anything else,” he said wryly.

Such as another kiss?

Or climaxes that were sweet, sensual and satisfying enough to rock her entire world.

Jen successfully fought back a flush. She’d been wondering how long before he brought that up. “Matt…”

“It’s okay,” he said softly, looking at her as if he needed comfort only she could give. “I understand.” He tucked her hair behind her ear, let his gaze rove seductively over her face. “Just so you know, you can change your mind anytime. All you have to do is—”

Footsteps sounded in the hall.

Matt dropped his hand, stepped back, but Jen’s heart continued to pound.

Emmett walked into the kitchen, clad in a robe, pajamas and sheepskin-lined slippers. He smiled when he saw her. With relief, she noted he seemed to have recovered fully from what had ailed him earlier.

“I’m glad you’re still up, Jen,” he said with a smile. “I want to talk to you about the West Texas Ranchers Association annual summer gala in Fort Worth. It’s a week from Friday. I’d like you to go with Matt and me.”

Jen noted that Matt looked as surprised by the invitation as she felt. “The three of us?” she asked.

“Sure.” Emmett shrugged in bemusement. “Why not?”

Matt lifted a brow, his expression inscrutable once again. Nervously, Jen turned back to his dad. “Won’t that look a little odd?” She knew it would feel so, given all she was suddenly hiding. Her secret tryst with Matt, for starters. Then there was Emmett’s supposed illness, which he insisted she keep from Matt. She hated being put in the middle, and worried that the emotional fallout could cause a permanent rift between father and son.

Not to mention what it would mean for her and Matt…

Heavens, how had this turned into such a mess?

Oblivious to the unsettling nature of her thoughts, he shrugged again. “We’re all friends. Unless you’d rather take a date, which would be fine, too.” He flashed a generous smile. “Whatever you decide on that score, I still think you should go. A lot of very influential people will be there. Potential patrons. I want to introduce you around. Let everybody know what you’re doing for us.”

Dex’s parents had often said the same thing to her, only their purpose had been garnering sympathy from their friends, and wanting everyone to know what they were doing for poor little underprivileged Jen. Who never should have had the greed to marry their son.

And that painful past experience, Jen thought miserably, was exactly why she shouldn’t go.

Showing art in her gallery was one thing. She was in her comfort zone. Social gatherings like the ball would only remind her of her failed marriage, and the humiliation she had suffered at her in-laws’ hands.

“Of course, you’re going to need formal attire.” Emmett continued as if Jen had already accepted his invitation. “So I called Jenna Lockhart Remington this evening and filled her in.”

The world-renowned haute couture designer who designed all the Oscar dresses? Jen’s flush of embarrassment deepened. “I appreciate it, Emmett, but the Lockhart salon is way out of my league, pricewise.” Even if the company’s flagship boutique was located in Laramie, Texas—home to all the Lockhart sisters and their wildly successful offspring.

Emmett took some juice from the fridge and poured a glass. “You don’t need to worry about that, honey. I’m paying for it.”

Matt looked at Jen again, with that same steady patience in his eyes.

Forcing herself to breathe, she shook her head. “Thank you so much, Emmett. I appreciate the gesture, but I can’t let you do that. That really would not look right.” People would talk. Matt would…

Well, who cared what Matt would think?

She would, that’s who!