Home > Cowboys & Angels (Sons of Chance #13)(8)

Cowboys & Angels (Sons of Chance #13)(8)
Author: Vicki Lewis Thompson

Frankly, she didn’t care if he shared her love of travel and skiing. She wasn’t looking for a lifetime companion and she’d made that clear. At least she hoped he wouldn’t misunderstand her sexual eagerness for something deeper and more meaningful.

Maybe she needed to reemphasize her philosophy tonight. The sex was terrific, and she’d love to partake as often as possible while he was here, but that didn’t mean she was falling for him. She’d look for any signs that he had a different idea about how things were working out between them.

If he did hope for more than sex from her, she’d have to break it off. Selfishly, she didn’t want to do that. Sex had never been this good before. But she couldn’t continue to indulge if she thought Trey would end up with a broken heart.

* * *

EMMETT WAS ALREADY in the room that had been designated for the wedding ceremony when Trey and Watkins arrived. Pam was nowhere to be seen, though. The decorating had begun, although no one besides Emmett was in the room now.

Trey thought it was a fine spot for a wedding—not too big and not too small. He estimated that about sixty folding chairs had been set up, with an aisle down the middle. Pine boughs were everywhere—over the arched windows and covering a trellis that would serve as the focal point for the ceremony.

Wine-colored ribbons were woven among the boughs, and the same color was used for cushions on the dark wood folding chairs and the runner down the middle of the aisle. The room looked classy and smelled wonderful, and Trey figured the staff wasn’t even finished.

Emmett didn’t seem to be enjoying the ambiance, though, as he paced in the back of the room. In his sixties, Emmett looked like the quintessential ranch foreman with his tall, lanky physique, clear blue eyes and carefully trimmed gray mustache. He was completely at home on the back of a horse or pitching hay into a stall, but he appeared ill at ease in a room filled with expensive wood paneling, thick carpeting and crystal chandeliers.

He spotted them and walked over immediately. “I’m glad you boys are here. I have this great idea, but I can’t get Pam on board with it. I’m hoping you two can help me convince her.”

Watkins set down his guitar case, and Trey followed suit. “What idea is that?” Watkins asked.

Emmett rubbed his hands together, betraying his nervousness. “Pam and I can fly to Vegas this afternoon, get married tonight, and fly back here tomorrow. Then we can all party, just like she planned.”

Watkins stared at him. “Emmett, that’s not going to work.”

“No, it isn’t,” Trey added. “I’m the new guy, so I don’t know all the history, but I can’t see that happening.”

“Why not?” Emmett’s jaw tightened. “The main thing is the party, right?”

“Uh, no,” Watkins said. “The main thing is folks witnessing the ceremony when you and Pam get hitched. They’re all looking forward to that.”

“I don’t know why they want to sit through some boring ceremony.” Emmett caught himself. “I don’t mean to say your music will be boring, you understand. That will be first-rate. But you’ll still play for the party when everyone can dance instead of being stuck in these rows of chairs.”

“Watkins is right,” Trey said. “They’re looking forward to the ceremony itself. You and Pam are important to them, and they want to be part of this wedding. I don’t think it’ll work for you to fly off to Vegas.”

“And I doubt Pam would go, anyway,” Watkins added. “You can’t get married in Vegas without a bride.”

“See, that’s where you two come in.” Emmett began to pace again, waving his arms as he walked. “If you both tell her it’s a great idea, she might listen. I’ve tried to get Emily on board, but my stubborn daughter won’t hear of it. I’ve talked to Sarah and that didn’t go well, either.” He turned to Watkins. “I even tried talking to Mary Lou a few minutes ago. She popped in to see how the decorations were coming along. She’s completely against the Vegas plan.”

“That doesn’t surprise me,” Watkins said.

“It surprised me! You and Mary Lou got married on a damned Panama Canal cruise, for God’s sake! You didn’t go through all this foolishness!”

“You’re right about the cruise.” In a gesture that said Watkins was stalling for time so he could think, he took off his hat, still damp from the snow, and brushed a speck of lint from the crown. Then he repositioned the hat on his head and glanced up at Emmett. “I’m Mary Lou’s husband, so I understand where you’re coming from.”

“I knew you would. You need to get me out of this circus. The party’s okay. I’m fine with the party. It’s standing up in front of a room full of people dressed in a coat that doesn’t fit right, and saying those words, which should be private, in front of all those folks...”

“You and Mary Lou are alike in that. She didn’t want a big deal, either, especially because we’d both been dodging the question of marriage for so many years.”

“Exactly! Just like Pam and me. So why won’t Mary Lou back me on this? She of all people should understand.”

Watkins shook his head. “When you put it like that, I’m not sure I have the answer.”

“Look,” Trey said. “You can disregard me if you want, but maybe it’s because Mary Lou can see it from a different angle this time.”

Watkins turned to gaze at him. “That’s smart thinking, son. Plus we just had Sarah and Pete’s wedding in August, which everybody, including Mary Lou, enjoyed so much. She might understand a little better now why it’s important to let folks be a part of a wedding ceremony.”

Emmett sighed. “You’re saying I have to take one for the team, aren’t you?”

“Well, and for Pam,” Watkins said. “You love her, right?”

“I’ve loved her for years.”

“There you go.” Watkins smiled. “If saying her vows in front of all her friends and family will make her happy, then you gotta do it.”

Emmett scrubbed a hand over his face and looked at them. “Guess so.”

As if on cue, Pam walked into the room. “There you two are! Ready to play for us?” She was dressed in a cheerful red velour sweat suit, and not a blond hair was out of place in her chin-length bob, but her bright tone sounded forced.

“You know what?” Emmett walked over and put his arms around her. “We don’t need a preview.”

Her body stiffened. “Why not?”

“These boys will do a fine job. I don’t think we need to worry about their performance. This wedding’s going to be great.”

Pam looked stunned. “It is?”

“Yep. I can hardly wait.” He glanced over at Trey and Watkins. “See you both at the bachelor party tonight. In the meantime, I’m going to have a long and very private lunch with my fiancée.”

“See you tonight!” Watkins picked up his guitar case and motioned to Trey. “Let’s go, cowboy.”

Trey grabbed his guitar and followed Watkins out of the room, but he couldn’t resist glancing back at Emmett and Pam. Pam looked as if someone had just handed her the moon.

Her expression haunted Trey as he said goodbye to Watkins and walked back to his room. The covers on the bed and the scattered pillows bore mute testimony to the wild passion that he’d shared with Elle less than an hour ago. But it wasn’t love that she felt for him.

If he was honest with himself, he’d have to say that no woman had ever looked at him the way Pam had looked at Emmett. They’d desired him, but they hadn’t gazed at him with their heart in their eyes.

He’d imagined himself in love several times, but had he been? Or had he been in love with the idea of love? If so, then he needed to grow up. This emotion he felt for Elle seemed substantial, but he couldn’t swear it was love. It could be gratitude mixed with her mystery-woman allure and his intense sexual attraction to her.

Watkins had known Mary Lou for years. Emmett had known Pam for years. Trey had known Elle for less than twenty-four hours. During that time they’d had some amazing sex, but not much conversation.

If he expected Elle to ever look at him the way Pam had looked at Emmett, then he needed to spend time getting to know her and letting her get to know him. That probably meant—and this was a slightly depressing conclusion—not hav**g s*x.

Or maybe they could have sex, because they both wanted to, and then they could have a long conversation. He wasn’t even sure she’d be interested in having a long conversation with him. Maybe all she cared about was the sex. That thought was the most depressing of all.

If it was true, though, he might as well find out now. He’d started out wanting Elle in his bed, which was a goal any man with a pulse would understand. She was just that hot. But now he wanted more than that for the two of them.

Maybe he’d subconsciously had that goal all along, but until seeing Pam and Emmett together, he hadn’t realized how much he wanted their kind of relationship. He didn’t want to wait years for it, either.

Chapter 7

THE SHOPPING TRIP to Jackson took much longer than Elle would have liked, but Jared seemed in no hurry. All thoughts of squeezing in an hour of alone time with Trey disappeared. Once they returned to the resort, making the video sapped the rest of the day.

By the time Elle glanced at her watch, it was time for the bachelor party to begin in the bar. Fred was working the party, giving Amy the night off, which meant Elle wouldn’t be asked to help out. That gave her no choice but to wait for Trey’s call signaling the end of the bachelor party.

She decided to use the time to decorate her Christmas tree, but the tree was small and her decorations few. She liked Christmas well enough, but having two parents in the military had meant that anything could come up to derail the holidays—a move or a deployment of one parent or the other. Her mother and father had never established family traditions. Flexibility had been the key element for the Mastersons, and Elle had grown up thinking traditions weren’t necessary to a happy life.

That made her the perfect employee for a resort that offered Christmas holiday ski packages. She worked straight through, which allowed both Jared and Annalise to spend a few days at home with their extended families. Her parents treated Christmas so casually that it seemed silly for her to fly thousands of miles to be with them for the holidays.

She hung the last ornament on her tree long before she could expect Trey to call or text, so she decided to turn on her computer and do a Google search for the Last Chance Ranch. Now that she’d met all three Chance brothers, she was curious about the place. She vaguely remembered that they sold horses, so they should have a website.

Wow, did they ever have a website! The images were spectacular, and she quickly realized why. Dominique Chance, Nick’s wife and one of the skiers this morning, was a professional photographer. Elle had seen her work in the windows of a gallery in Jackson. Naturally Dominique would make sure the ranch and its paint horses were shown off to good advantage.

Elle lost herself in exploring the site, all the while picturing Trey there. She read the history of the place—how Archibald Chance had won it in a poker game during the Great Depression of the 1930s. The centerpiece of the ranch, a mammoth two-story log house with wings extending at an angle on each side, looked like something out of a movie.

During the summer months, the ranch house opened its doors to disadvantaged boys, eight per season. They lived and worked on the ranch from the middle of June to the middle of August. An application form was available on the site.

Elle found it significant that the charitable program was as prominent on the home page as the paints that were the ranch’s bread and butter. She didn’t know much about horses, but she could appreciate the beauty of the ones in the photos. One arresting image showed Jack Chance dressed all in black and mounted on a black-and-white stallion named Bandit.

No doubt about it, there was something very sexy about a square-jawed cowboy sitting on a powerful horse. She mentally substituted Trey for Jack in the picture. Yum. She could picture him racing across a grassy meadow, leaning over the horse’s neck, his body in tune with the fluid motion of the horse.

She wouldn’t ever see that, of course. She’d be in Argentina during the months that Trey could conceivably be riding the range doing his cowboy thing. They’d be thousands of miles apart, their short fling forgotten.

Maybe he’d find a cowgirl at that bar Jared had mentioned in the little town of Shoshone, near the ranch. She couldn’t remember the name of the bar, so she typed Shoshone into Google and found it. The Spirits and Spurs was owned by Jack’s wife, Josie, who’d also been on the bunny slope today. The bar, more than a hundred years old, got its name from the ghosts who haunted the place—miners and cowhands who’d bought drinks there for generations.

Even though she kept reminding herself that she would never set foot in the bar, she was intrigued. It also provided live music every night during the summer, another feature she wouldn’t be able to enjoy. Trey probably played there, at least once in a while. She was sure that whenever he performed, he would attract the attention of both local girls and tourists passing through.

Did that knowledge bother her and make her jealous? Hell, yes. She had absolutely no right to be jealous of whoever caught his fancy, but the thought of Trey getting jiggy with another woman was decidedly unpleasant.

She’d have to work on that reaction. She couldn’t very well plan to have a casual fling with the man and then expect him to be celibate for the rest of his life because he’d be spoiled for anyone else. Unfortunately, she was a little worried that she might be spoiled for anyone else after the incredible sex they’d had and promised to have again.

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