wife. My wife. I can’t believe I love saying that, but I do. I’ll ask her if Melody mentioned you, but like I said, that means Mel will probably realize you asked.”
His pride had taken a beating all week as it was, so he didn’t really care. Maybe it was better if she did know. “Warning duly noted.”
“The real reason I’m calling is that we’re having a party at the ranch when we get home. A week from Saturday. You on?”
“You even have to ask?”
“Kind of, since a favor is involved. I was hoping you’d be in charge of the bonfire and order refreshments of the liquid persuasion.”
“Sure thing.”
When they hung up, he sat there, staring a map of Wyoming he had framed and hanging on the wall of his office. Melody would be at the party, no doubt about it.
She couldn’t avoid him forever.
Oh, at the grocery store, she’d tried. Unfortunately for him, she’d been wearing a simple pink dress with thin straps that showed off her shapely shoulders. It was the familiar shimmer of her hair that had first caught his eye, though. Or maybe he was so aware of her that his radar signaled whenever she was in his vicinity.
It had taken some willpower not to ask her out again, but he liked to think he was a man of his word and tried to live his life that way. He’d promised her the next move was hers.
That had been a damn foolish play, but it was done, so he was stuck with it.
Tripp’s admonishment rankled, too, but his friend might have a valid point. How serious was he about Melody, about wanting a second chance with her?
The wedding had tilted his world sideways. And making love to Melody had been a revelation of sorts. He wanted her, he knew that.
Just when, in a relationship, did desire turn into love?
That was one hell of a question, and he didn’t have the insight to answer. Not yet.
Because if they were talking about love, he wasn’t sure he’d ever fallen out of it.
CHAPTER SEVEN
“ N EUTERED MALES,” Melody mused out loud to Ralph, Waldo and Emerson as she went into the Warrior Two position, “are much easier to get along with.”
They did their version of the same yoga stance, straightening their tails and lifting a front paw. She usually found it hilarious, but she wasn’t feeling all that jocular this morning.
Last night she’d run smack-dab into Spence again. This time it was at the liquor store where she’d stopped off to pick up a nice chardonnay as a special treat, since she’d finally finished the design for the bib necklace and wanted to celebrate.
He was there, he explained in that sexy drawl of his, to do Tripp a favor and order a couple of kegs for the upcoming party, since they were still out of town.
“He looked good, as usual,” she explained gloomily to the feline contingent as she switched, appropriately enough, to the cat pose, making sure her back was hollowed and then arched. “It would be helpful if he’d grow a big wart on the end of his nose or something.”
Now she’d wished that on him, it would probably happen to her, instead.
Needless to say, her cats managed the stretch perfectly.
What a bunch of show-offs.
She went on. “If I didn’t know he’s too busy for it, I’d swear he was doing it on purpose, following me around.”
He hadn’t so much as mentioned a dinner date, not last night, not at the grocery store two days ago, either. He also hadn’t called again, but he’d been unfailingly polite when they crossed paths.
She’d be unreasonably irked by that, but he was simply doing what he told her he’d do.
Okay, she was irked.
She’d thanked him for the flowers yesterday, at the liquor store. He’d said he was glad she liked them. Nothing more.
If only she wasn’t so confused.
The solution for that, she’d discovered, was work. After she finished her yoga session, she changed into comfortable jeans and a T-shirt, whipped her hair into a tidy ponytail and prepared a cup of tea. Then she made a beeline for her worktable and
His pride had taken a beating all week as it was, so he didn’t really care. Maybe it was better if she did know. “Warning duly noted.”
“The real reason I’m calling is that we’re having a party at the ranch when we get home. A week from Saturday. You on?”
“You even have to ask?”
“Kind of, since a favor is involved. I was hoping you’d be in charge of the bonfire and order refreshments of the liquid persuasion.”
“Sure thing.”
When they hung up, he sat there, staring a map of Wyoming he had framed and hanging on the wall of his office. Melody would be at the party, no doubt about it.
She couldn’t avoid him forever.
Oh, at the grocery store, she’d tried. Unfortunately for him, she’d been wearing a simple pink dress with thin straps that showed off her shapely shoulders. It was the familiar shimmer of her hair that had first caught his eye, though. Or maybe he was so aware of her that his radar signaled whenever she was in his vicinity.
It had taken some willpower not to ask her out again, but he liked to think he was a man of his word and tried to live his life that way. He’d promised her the next move was hers.
That had been a damn foolish play, but it was done, so he was stuck with it.
Tripp’s admonishment rankled, too, but his friend might have a valid point. How serious was he about Melody, about wanting a second chance with her?
The wedding had tilted his world sideways. And making love to Melody had been a revelation of sorts. He wanted her, he knew that.
Just when, in a relationship, did desire turn into love?
That was one hell of a question, and he didn’t have the insight to answer. Not yet.
Because if they were talking about love, he wasn’t sure he’d ever fallen out of it.
CHAPTER SEVEN
“ N EUTERED MALES,” Melody mused out loud to Ralph, Waldo and Emerson as she went into the Warrior Two position, “are much easier to get along with.”
They did their version of the same yoga stance, straightening their tails and lifting a front paw. She usually found it hilarious, but she wasn’t feeling all that jocular this morning.
Last night she’d run smack-dab into Spence again. This time it was at the liquor store where she’d stopped off to pick up a nice chardonnay as a special treat, since she’d finally finished the design for the bib necklace and wanted to celebrate.
He was there, he explained in that sexy drawl of his, to do Tripp a favor and order a couple of kegs for the upcoming party, since they were still out of town.
“He looked good, as usual,” she explained gloomily to the feline contingent as she switched, appropriately enough, to the cat pose, making sure her back was hollowed and then arched. “It would be helpful if he’d grow a big wart on the end of his nose or something.”
Now she’d wished that on him, it would probably happen to her, instead.
Needless to say, her cats managed the stretch perfectly.
What a bunch of show-offs.
She went on. “If I didn’t know he’s too busy for it, I’d swear he was doing it on purpose, following me around.”
He hadn’t so much as mentioned a dinner date, not last night, not at the grocery store two days ago, either. He also hadn’t called again, but he’d been unfailingly polite when they crossed paths.
She’d be unreasonably irked by that, but he was simply doing what he told her he’d do.
Okay, she was irked.
She’d thanked him for the flowers yesterday, at the liquor store. He’d said he was glad she liked them. Nothing more.
If only she wasn’t so confused.
The solution for that, she’d discovered, was work. After she finished her yoga session, she changed into comfortable jeans and a T-shirt, whipped her hair into a tidy ponytail and prepared a cup of tea. Then she made a beeline for her worktable and
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