Ben Taylor opened the door, balancing his five-month-old niece in his arms. His wide grin couldn't hide the dark smudges under his eyes. Unexpected fatherhood hadn't been easy on him. "I don't know if I should let you in. I lost twenty bucks to Nathan because of your wedding vows. You've never had an impulsive bone in your body, what happened?"
"The love bug bit him on his ass," Alex laughed over Trent's shoulder. "And she's going to give him grief for the rest of his life."
Ben stood back and let them pass. "Maybe you deserve to come in, then. Take a look around before you decide to add a few more munchkins to this gang of kids. It should put you off for life."
Nathan walked toward them. "Unless it was a shotgun wedding."
"Jeez," Trent groaned. "I'm not even in the door and you've got me booked into antenatal classes. Gracie's not pregnant." But hot damn, the thought wasn't all that hard to swallow.
Nathan scowled at him. "Well don't just stand there, come and get a drink before Greg makes another circuit with everyone's children. You'll get flattened in the stampede."
"I'll meet you out there," Ben said. "I'm going to put Emma down to sleep."
Trent followed Alex and Nathan through the house and onto the deck. He looked around the backyard, smiling at the bikes and scooters parked against the fence.
Nathan passed him a can of beer, still cold from the bucket of ice stashed beside the house. "We've all heard the condensed version of what happened in Vegas. Now you'd better tell us what really happened."
Trent stared at Nathan. "How did you find out?"
"Mom," Nathan said. "She told me word started circulating on Monday that you got yourself hitched. I've been waiting for a call."
Adam Jefferies poked his head out of the kitchen window. "And Doris told me when I called into Jake's."
Out of all of Trent's friends, Adam was by far the tallest. Built like a beanpole, he had arms and legs that hadn't made it past the gangly teen stage. But the man could move when he needed to. Especially when a woman decided she could get used to being a lawyer's girlfriend. It was unfortunate that the lawyer in question didn't believe in long-term commitment. Adam preferred short-term parking rights with a number of women, one after the other.
Greg appeared on the deck with five boys trailing after him. "Don't say anything until I get back. I'm just going to put this lot to bed."
Trent watched the heads walking behind Greg as he disappeared back inside the house. "Only three of those children belong to Greg and the other two boys are Chris'. So where's Chris?"
Adam came out of the kitchen with a can of cola in one hand and a thick steak sandwich in the other. "He's taken Debbie over to Great Falls for the weekend. Greg and Jenny are babysitting."
Trent popped the tab on his can and sat on one of the chairs, risking a quick glance at his friends. They all stared back. "You can't all be desperate for news of my wedding?"
"Desperate isn't a word I'd use," Nathan drawled. "Stunned, shocked?maybe even amazed would sum up what I thought when I heard you'd gone and got yourself hitched."
Trent took a swig of beer. He had a feeling he was going to need it. He shot a glance at Alex. The damn grin on his face was enough to give Trent itchy feet. He'd left his phone on vibrate in case something happened in Billings and Gracie needed him to pick her up. He wished he could make some excuse and go and see just what she was up to. But half the men in the house had their phones within pounce distance. They'd be no getting away from them in a hurry, so he settled down for a long interrogation.
Ben raced out the double set of doors, skidding on the edge of the door frame. "Have I missed anything?"
"Nope," Nathan frowned. "We're just waiting on Greg, then Trent's going to tell us why he let the rest of us single men down by getting himself a wife."
Trent left the can of beer on the deck and headed across to the bucket for a cola. Four pairs of eyes followed his every move. Before they got started on his sorry excuse for matrimonial bliss, he needed to do some digging of his own. "So," he cleared the frog that marched up his windpipe. "How's your dad, Alex? I haven't seen Jim around much." And that would have to be about as subtle as a sledgehammer.
Alex reached for a bag of potato chips. "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 cowboys to wrestle the bulls 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 students 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 lifetime's worth of rodeo stuff stored in the garage. We used to go poking through the boxes when we were children."
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 bull riders."
"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 pendant 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 vacation 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 goodness 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."
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 ahead of everyone else. I can always get you somet
hing 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' caf?," 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 eyes told her he didn't care about caf?s 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.