A Dark & Stormy Knight: A McKnight Romance (McKnight Romances) (19 page)

It would have been worse if he lived in
the same house with everyone else.

If he could have spent all his time at
the arena, watching Eden, he would have, but other ranch chores needed
attention, too, and he couldn’t leave them all for his brothers to do.

They’d finally found a replacement
radiator for the old ‘48 truck. It should have been a simple swap, but the
holes didn’t line up, the fan kept hitting the shroud, and the shroud didn’t
fit anything.

Sol had been working on it for three days
and had gotten it to almost fit. Swearing at it, if only in his head, suited
his state of mind. Now if he could only figure out how to fill up that hollow
spot in his chest where his heart used to be.

Part of him was relieved that he hadn’t
heard from Georgia. He didn’t want to have to look at her and think about her
with Tommy, but he was surprised she hadn’t shown up to talk to Eden about the rodeo. He knew better than to think her silence meant she was going to let Eden ride. He added his ache for his daughter on top of his own.

He almost welcomed the pain when his
wrench slipped as he was tightening the last bolt, and he busted his knuckles
on the radiator housing.

Sol swore then looked around to see if
anyone lurked nearby.

He was sucking on his knuckles, the
metallic taste of blood on his tongue, when his phone rang.

“Yup.”

The laugh on the other end brought a
smile to his face. “Hey, Terry.” He’d ridden a lot of miles with Terry Ainsley,
traveling from rodeo to rodeo. “What’s up?”

“Nothin’ much. Been wonderin’ how your
doin’. Where you at?”

“I’m at the ranch. Been healing up. You
on the road?”

“Yup. I’m driving through your neck of
the woods tomorrow on my way to Oklahoma. I figured since I got no travel
buddy, and you missing out on cowboy Christmas and all, you might wanna come
along.”

Sol hadn’t missed a cowboy Christmas in
ten years. Nearly every town that had an arena had some sort of rodeo action
going the week of July fourth. It was hectic and crazy, but it put a lot of
green in a cowboy’s pocket.

“So you ready to cowboy up?” Terry asked.

Sol flexed his hand. He was so ready. A
familiar excitement bubbled up, only slightly muted by the heavy ache in his
heart.

Then he thought about Eden. He didn’t
have her often enough. Was it wrong to go traipsing off to a rodeo while she
was there? Probably.

And of course, there was Georgia, but he was screwing that up ten ways from Sunday. He needed some distance, or he
was likely to implode and damage their relationship past all redemption.

Terry’s offer also awoke an ache for the
feel of a bull between his thighs and the heart-pounding adrenaline rush when
the gate opened. He needed something pure and good and simple in his life. His
feelings for Eden were good and pure, but with Georgia wrapped up in them, they
sure as hell weren’t simple.

“Hell, yes,” Sol told Terry. He looked up
to see Gideon grinning widely. Damn. That was the third time today he’d been
busted. He dug a crumpled dollar bill from his pocket and held it out. Gideon
took it and walked away whistling
Last Dollar Blues.

He really needed to hit the road.

###

Georgia
’s
phone rang. She pulled it from her pocket and checked the number before she
answered it. “Hey, Daniel.” She hadn’t talked to him since the previous week.
It hadn’t felt right, calling him while he was at his ex-wife’s. “Are you back
in the Big D?” she asked as she gathered up her purse and the latest Stacia
Kane novel she’d been reading while she waited for her mama’s therapy session
to end.

While he spoke, she walked outside to sit
on the building’s wide front steps, so she wouldn’t bother anyone.

“So she was sober the whole time you were
there?” she asked.

“Yup, not a drop. No alcohol at all in
her place. Trust me. I checked. I’m feeling a lot better about Deanne being
there.” He sounded better. Happier. Easing your worries about your kid did
that. “So how was your date?”

“Oh, well. Good. And bad. Sol and Tommy
got into a fight at the drive-in.”

Daniel laughed. “So now you have men
fighting over you. I’ll bet that makes you feel special.”

“Not really. Turns out it was more about
their male egos than it was about me. And it’s not as though I’d pick either of
them to be my Prince Charming when they’re strutting around like two roosters
in the barnyard.”
C’mon, Daniel. Ask me who I
would
pick.

But Daniel only laughed and asked if she’d
at least gotten to see a good movie.

She clawed the fingers of her free hand
and curled her lips in a snarl. Why was he so damned uncooperative? “Yeah, the
movie was good.” She sighed before she told him the rest, but she couldn’t
withhold the confrontation she’d had with Missy. He’d enjoy visualizing that.

She was right. He practically howled with
laughter as she described the scene to him. “I barely escaped with my life, and
you laugh,” she said with mock despair at the end of her story. “And then, to
top things off, when I told Tommy about it”—if this didn’t get a reaction, she
didn’t know what would—”he kissed me.”

“Whoa.”

She listened hard to the pause that
followed, hoping she could read the silence.

“Did you kiss him back?”

She hadn’t thought this out very well,
now had she? She was tempted to lie, but she could picture that one lie leading
to others, and then she’d have to keep track of the lies. It was almost a
relief to realize that would be more trouble than it was worth. “No. I cut and
ran without an ounce of grace.” She couldn’t tell if there was a note of relief
in his laugh or not.

“Well, you can’t blame the guy for
trying.”

She had to bite her tongue to keep from
asking,
And what about when
you
kissed me?
But he might say she
couldn’t blame him for trying either, and then where would she go with it? She
was getting tired of trying to get him to show serious interest in her.

After they hung up and she went back
inside to stare at the pages of her book, she wondered why she didn’t just lay
her cards on the table with Daniel.

A second later: Well, duh. Their
daughters were best friends. If he wasn’t interested, things would get awkward.
Then again, they’d gotten awkward after they’d kissed, and they’d gotten past
that. Of course, their method of getting past it had been to never talk about
it. Maybe they should have. Or maybe that would have made it worse.

She didn’t know the answer, and didn’t
she have enough to worry about without adding that? It could wait until summer
was over. When they were both back in Dallas, she would decide what to do about
it. But she knew she’d keep trying to pick up clues when the opportunity arose
because she flat couldn’t help herself.

That afternoon, Georgia pulled into the McKnights’ and saw Sol walking across the broad expanse of the ranch yard.

Good. I won’t have to hunt him down.

He stopped near the barn and waited for
her with a look on his face that said he expected round two to commence as soon
as she got out of her car. He wasn’t off by much, but first, she had something
she needed to say that might make him faint dead away.

She got out the car and walked over to
him. Without preamble, she said, “I have to apologize to you.”

His eyebrows nearly disappeared under his
hat brim. “For what?”

“For thinking you were a barbarian.”

“A barbarian?”

“I assumed you threw the first punch.”

His eyebrows returned to their normal
place as the tension in his body drained off. “I should’ve. Tommy has the
hardest damned head.”

So much for her good intentions. She
glared at him. “Is it you? Do you just bring out the idiot in everyone around
you?”

She could practically see him sorting
through possible responses and tossing aside the ones he didn’t dare say.
Before he could find one he thought would annoy her without digging himself a
hole so deep he couldn’t climb out, she said, “Don’t think that gets you off
the hook for being a jerk. How dare you tell him I slept with you?”

Sol opened his mouth but then wisely shut
it again. It didn’t matter. She knew he was thinking,
But you did.
She
didn’t care. Some things were private.

“How could you throw that out there?”

His face went through several expressions
as though he kept changing his mind about the most effective defense. Finally,
he sighed. “You’re right. I was way outta line.”

Well, surprise, surprise.
She hadn’t expected him to abandon his
normal philosophy that the best defense was an obstinate offense. “Sol, you’ve
got to give up the idea that we’re going to get back together someday.”

He gave her a blank look as if she’d
spoken in a foreign language, and he was waiting for the translation.

“Oh, never mind. The whole thing Saturday
night was my fault anyway.”

“How do you figure?”

There was a breath of something in his
tone she couldn’t quite identify. Something tentative. A little sad. A little
hopeful. A little . . . she didn’t know what.

Georgia
took a deep breath. She didn’t like being in the wrong, and she hated owning up
to it to him even more. “I should have told you what was really going on.”

He cocked an eyebrow.

“I’m not dating Tommy.”

His eyebrows shifted position as though
they were on a seesaw. Sometimes he made her think of a Muppet, the way his
eyebrows were so expressive.

“I went out with him to help him make
Missy jealous.”

Sol made a disparaging noise. “Damn, you
must think I’m really stupid.”

“Come on. You’ve seen how she treats him.
It’s not right. All he wants is to salvage some pride. Surely you can
understand that.”

“So it was a pity date?” Something in his
voice made her feel like he wasn’t going to believe her no matter what she
said.

“No, of course not. And no, I didn’t
sleep with him,” she said to forestall any chance he’d ask. “Not that it’s any
of your business, especially since you went out with Missy.”

Sol frowned. “I haven’t gone out with
Missy.”

“Really?” Georgia loaded the word with
skepticism.

“I don’t date married women.”

“That’s not what I heard.”

Sol’s mouth tightened. “From Tommy, I’ll
bet. Is that how he convinced you to go out with him?”

“No. It had nothing to do with it. At
least, not on my end. But I’m sure it contributed to how much Tommy enjoyed
hitting you.”

“Well, if I had dated her, which I didn’t,
I’d understand that, but I didn’t.”

“Why would Tommy think you had?”

“Maybe Missy lied to him. Or maybe he . . .
ah . . .”

The
ah
was drawn out as though
something had fallen into place. Like a forgotten date.

“Missy pulled into The Lariat right
behind me about a month ago. We got to the door about the same time. I think I
even held it for her.”

“So you think Tommy saw you walk in
together and made a wild assumption on that thin evidence?” Georgia let her disbelief color her tone.

“No, even Tommy’s not that dumb. But they
had a band that night and the place was packed. I got the last empty table.
Missy asked if she could share it with me.” He winced. “I did dance with her a
couple of times. I may even have bought her a drink.”

“But it wasn’t a date?”

“No. I told you. I don’t date married
women. I stopped in for a beer and to see if the band was any good. That’s it.”

She could actually picture it happening that
way. Especially since Missy had been crushing on him since high school. “So you
didn’t leave together?”

“No, I only stayed about an hour. I have
no idea how long Missy stayed.”

She could picture Missy leaving right
behind Sol. Maybe hoping to catch him in the parking lot. Or maybe only
planning to use him to twist the knife in Tommy’s gut.

“Okay. I guess I believe you.” She
shouldn’t feel so good about knowing he hadn’t gone out with Missy. Hadn’t
swapped spit with her. Hadn’t, thank God, gone to bed with her. Georgia caught herself smiling as Sol.

Sol smiled back. “Thank you.”

“But it still didn’t have anything to do
with me and Tommy going to a movie. We’re just friends.”

One corner of his smile twisted as if he’d
just tasted something nasty. “Yeah. Sure. I believe you.”

But clearly he didn’t. If she could
believe him about Missy, why couldn’t he believe her about Tommy? “We’re
friends,” she said again as though the repetition might get through to him.

Sol shook his head slowly. “If you really
think I’m gonna buy that you and Tommy are just friends, one of us is dumber
than a doorknob.”

“You think men and women can’t be
friends?”

“I didn’t say that. I said Tommy doesn’t
want to be friends with
you.
”

She threw up her hands. Sol was a
one-note song. “I don’t believe it. You really think every man in the world is
dying to sleep with me.”

“Nope. Only the sane, heterosexual ones.”

She rolled her eyes.

“Really, Georgia? You don’t get that?”
His voice was soft but full of some emotion she couldn’t interpret. “You don’t
get that when a man looks at you, he can’t help wanting you?”

“I am not my breasts, Sol.”

He shook his head again, but this time he
smiled as though he couldn’t believe her naivety, then he stepped into her
space. “It ain’t your breasts, darlin’.” His voice had gone soft and husky. “It’s
you. The way your hair catches the light.”

He slid his finger under the hair at her
shoulder and lifted a lock free. “It looks like spun gold. A man can’t help
imagining how it’ll look mussed up in the morning.” He rubbed her hair between
his fingers as if testing the texture then lifted his eyes to hers.

Georgia
’s
breath hitched. She should back away, but Sol’s gaze held such intimacy that it
nailed her in place.

He lifted his hand and stroked her cheek
with his knuckles. “It’s how soft and smooth your skin is. A man wants to feel
it against his.” His finger traced her lower lip. “It’s imagining how your lips
will taste.” He slid his spread fingers into her hair. His thumb stroked the
soft skin near the corner of her eye. “It’s wanting to see your eyes darken
with passion when you look at me.”

Did he realize he’d stopped pretending he
was talking about “men” and was sharing how
he
saw her? Was this why he’d
never given up on her? His vision was seductive as hell.

“Then I hear your voice, and I want you
talking to me in bed, soft and low, and saying things no one else should hear.
I want to hear you breathe my name and to feel like no one exists in the world
but us.”

It was impossible not to want to be
wanted like that. Especially when so many men saw only her breasts.

She took a shaky breath and realized she
was standing there, gazing into her ex-husband’s eyes as though he were the
only man in the world. This was not the conversation she’d expected to have
with him. Three things had been on her agenda. Her apology for thinking he’d
started the fight, her explanation about Tommy, and . . . and . . .
something else. Something important. Good Lord, what was it? She couldn’t think
when he was stroking her face and looking at her like that. Clearing her
throat, she stepped back.

Part of her was disappointed when he let
her go, but with the distance, her brain finally kicked in. How could she have
forgotten about her daughter?

She cleared her throat again, so her
words wouldn’t come out sounding husky. “We need to talk about Eden. I don’t want her barrel racing.”

Sol looked over her head as he heaved a
deep breath. When his eyes met hers, he’d shifted gears. “I don’t get it. Why
does this upset you so much?”

“I don’t want her spending her future on
the rodeo circuit, falling for some stupid cowboy.”

His lips pressed tight for a fraction of
a second. “She’s only ten, Georgia.”

“She’s eleven. And pretty soon, she’s
going to be looking at boys—”

The thunderstruck look on Sol’s face
pulled her up short. He wasn’t a stupid man, but she knew he didn’t want his
baby growing up. He certainly knew her dating years were coming, but he’d
probably deluded himself into thinking they were a dozen years away.

When she figured he’d had time to catch
up, she continued. “I don’t want her looking at boys who want to ride bulls.”

Georgia
saw the surprise on his face, and the hurt, too. She’d been afraid he’d take
her words personally and wished he wouldn’t.

“She could do a lot worse,” Sol said defensively.
“Cowboys are good men.”

“I’m not saying they aren’t.” Though
rodeo cowboys were typically hard drinkers and often hard partiers and buckle
bunnies were a constant temptation in their nomad lives, they were also
disciplined and hardworking. The very danger of their sport built a camaraderie
that had them cheering each other when one of them made a good ride, even if it
knocked the others out of the money.

“I’m saying it’s a hard life for the
women who love them.”

Sol’s head dropped. All she could see was
the top of his hat. The toe of his cowboy boot scuffed at the dirt.

“Is that what you want for your daughter?”
Georgia asked softly. She hoped she’d won this battle.

But when he lifted his head, she saw the
bulldog stubbornness etched in his face.

“I want her to be happy. I see too many
people sleepwalking through their lives, not knowing what they’re supposed to
be. They ain’t got a drop of passion for what they’re doing. That ain’t how you’re
supposed to live. Eden loves horses. Her face lights up like a Christmas tree
when she and that horse go ‘round that barrel just right.

“I think you’re borrowing trouble. It
could be she’ll be like Daisy and just want to work with the horses. Hell, she
might decide it’s too much work and quit. But if she wants to compete, looking
for her passion, I ain’t gonna take that away from her.”

And that’s what scared Georgia. Eden was too much her father’s daughter. “Then I’ll do it. My daughter is not going to get
sucked into rodeos.”

“
Your
daughter?” He scowled, his
stance changing subtly, telegraphing intermingled aggression and stubbornness. “I
guess that’s where I went wrong. All this time I’ve been laboring under the
delusion that she was
our
daughter. I thought that was why you wanted me
to make decisions about her, but I guess I was wrong.”

Her face flushed hot. When had he learned
how to push her buttons about Eden?

“Mine, yours, ours, it doesn’t matter.
She’s not going to become a buckle bunny.”

“Hellfire and damnation, Georgia. What is this burr you got up your butt about cowboys?”

“I don’t want her with some rodeo cowboy
who’s going to break her heart like you broke mine.”

She hadn’t known those words even went
together, let alone ever planned on saying them to him. They seemed to hang in
the air, waiting for his response.

He cocked his head and looked deep into
her eyes. She wanted to look away, but his gaze trapped her.

Softly, he said, “What did I do, Georgia, that broke your heart? You only stayed with me six weeks.” He took a shallow
breath. “Six weeks, two days, and a handful of hours.” His brow wrinkled as
though he was trying to solve some unsolvable problem. “What did I do that was
so terrible?”