Rough, Raw and Ready (15 page)

“Find any way to buy it. Even if it means borrowin’ from my pa.” Trevor scowled. “I doubt the old man would consider a short-term loan, even when I know damn good and well he’s lent my siblings money to build their places. I’m almost scared if I tell Pa what the money is for, he’ll suck up to Gus and buy it right out from under me, just so he can fuck up my life.”

That statement wasn’t Trevor being paranoid. From what he’d told her, Chassie wouldn’t put any dirty, nasty trick past Tater Glanzer when it came to getting the upper hand on his offspring.

“But, it don’t matter none, ’cause unless you’ve hidden a winnin’ lottery ticket someplace, we’re fucked. Ain’t no way we can come up with the down payment.”

“Trev. It’s okay.”

“No, it ain’t.” A bitter snort stirred her hair. “I’m some great catch, ain’t I? Never made enough from rodeoin’ to buy more’n a lousy horse trailer. I’m livin’ on your ranch.

I can’t find the money to buy Gus’s acreage. And my former partner—no less than a male lover—shows up and you realize I’ve kept a pretty goddamn big secret from you. Hell, Chass, maybe Colby was right. Maybe you are better off without me.”

“Colby said that?”

“Not in so many words.”

Chassie placed her hand over his mouth. “This ranch isn’t mine; it’s ours. You’ve cared more in the last two years than either Dag or Dad did in the last twenty years. This 114

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is our home, where we get to make the rules. Yeah, I’d like to have Gus’s land, but if we don’t get it, then we weren’t meant to have it. All things happen for a reason.”

He gave her a considering look. “Do you really believe that?”

“I do. Just think, if you hadn’t filled in on the circuit as Dag’s partner, we wouldn’t have met. I wouldn’t have been able to keep the ranch by myself after Dag and Dad both died. So after we got married this place became ours. And havin’ you in my life is worth way more than any piece of land.”

Trevor kissed her. “And you wonder why I love you so damn much.” His eyes flickered to the window. “And what about Edgard showin’ up? You think that happened for a reason? You haven’t changed your mind about my worth?”

“I ain’t gonna lie, it knocked me for a loop.” She managed a small smile. “Might sound stupid, but yeah, there is some cosmic reason Ed showed up now. I’m workin’ on understandin’, Trev. I really am.”

“That’s all I can ask.” He kissed her again, and gently separated their bodies. He sat on the edge of the bed and looked over his shoulder. “Why don’t you laze in bed a bit longer? Get some shut-eye and I’ll finish a couple things.” He dressed and slipped out of the room.

Chassie snuggled beneath the covers and was glad to be home, even if everything in her life, all her perceptions and misconceptions about love were about to change dramatically, whether she was ready for it or not.

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A spicy aroma greeted her as she entered the kitchen. “That smells great.”

Edgard turned. “Hope you don’t mind me taking over your kitchen.”

“Mind? I hope you don’t mind if I lay a big, wet, sloppy kiss on you for fixin’

supper.”

A strangely hopeful look flickered in his eyes. “I wouldn’t mind that at all.”

Before she lost her nerve, she walked over to him and kissed his cheek. “Thank you.

Trevor has a lot of great qualities, but cookin’ ain’t one of them.”

“Did he wow you with his chili? Or his recipe for cowboy beans, which actually is—”

“Chili,” they said in unison, and then laughed in unison.

“Needless to say I do all the cookin’.”

“Does that bother you?”

“Not at all. Why?”

Edgard shrugged. “Because in this day and age lots of men cook. I like to cook.”

“Have you always cooked?”

“My mother made sure I knew the basics and I took it from there. I lived by myself and it was either learn to cook, or I’d be eating spaghetti, chili and frozen burritos forever.” He shot her a considering look. “It’s no longer the norm around here? Sticking to those old gender roles?”

“Not at all. See, it’s not that Trev and I are stickin’ to traditional roles in this marriage, but I’m better in the kitchen than he is. I don’t mind, since I can’t fix machinery worth a damn.” Chassie peered at the pan on the stove. “But if you tell me that’s a pot of chili, I’m gonna brain you with the lid.”

He grinned. “It’s not. It’s Brazilian style stew.”

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“Whatever it is, it smells damn good. Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.”

“Where’s Trevor?”

“Had to help Gus with something.”

“Oh.” Chassie glanced at the clock. Her nap had lasted longer than she’d expected because it was almost five o’clock. “Would you like a beer?”

“If you’re having one.”

“Yep.” Chassie planned on having a whole lotta beer. She definitely needed alcohol to get the conversation started and probably an entire case to follow through with her plan. She took two bottles of Bud Light from the door and passed one to him.
Snick, hiss,
pop
echoed, as the lids were untwisted.

Edgard’s backside rested against one counter; hers on the one across from him. She gulped her beer, cautioning herself to be tactful and calm, but what burst forth from her mouth was, “Are you in love with my husband?”

He visibly paled. And knocked back an equally big swallow of Budweiser in lieu of answering.

“I’ve heard Trevor’s side. I talked to Channing and to Colby. So that leaves you.”

“And if I say yes, Chassie? What then?”

“I’m totally thinkin’ we have a gunfight in the street to determine who’s tough enough to win Trevor’s affections,” she said lightly.

That brought a slight smile. “You are a smartass.”

“And you are avoidin’ the question,
amigo
.”

“Jesus, do you know how hard it is to look at you and answer that question?”

“No harder than it is to look you in the eye and ask it.”

“Touché.” Edgard picked at the label. “Do I love him? That’s what I came here to figure out. Or if I’d given so much importance to the memory of him—to the memory of us—that I wasn’t able to move on.”

“Like you’d somehow…glorified your past?”

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Edgard nodded. “I seemed to remember only the good times. And because we weren’t public about our relationship, there were plenty of bad times.”

Chassie inhaled a slow breath. “This ain’t me bein’ cruel, but I hafta ask. Did you honestly believe he’d take you home to meet his folks and you’d settle down on a little ranch, just the two of you?”

“No.” Edgard let the bottle dangle between his fingers and repeated, “No. Never.

That’s one of the reasons I left. I realized Trevor could never be for me what I needed.”

“Is that another reason why you’re here? To see if I’m enough for him??”

Those honey-brown eyes met hers. “Yes.”

“Have you come to a conclusion?”

“Not even fucking close. I’m more confused than ever.”

“That makes two of us.”

Silence stretched as they pretended to drink their beer.

Finally Chassie broke. “I told Channing it’d be easier if I hated you.”

Edgard studied her. “You did?”

“Yeah.”

“You really don’t hate me?”

“No. Are you shocked?”

“Completely.”

“I actually like you.” She swigged from the bottle. “Ain’t that a kick in the ass?”

“I guess we’re even on that account, because there’s something mighty likeable about you, little Chassie.”

She snorted. “Little.” Then she drained her beer and slammed the empty on the table, avoiding his gaze. “Jesus, it sounds stupid in my head, and it’ll sound even dumber when I say it out loud. But I can see why Trevor was drawn to you.”

Edgard stiffened up.

His defensive posture made her blurt out, “It ain’t only that GQ cover model face and smokin’ hot body you’ve got goin’ on. You are like him in so many ways. Yet so 118

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different. You complement him. Not in the same way I do. And that doesn’t seem like such a bad thing. And I can’t believe I even think that, let alone said it.”

The air crackled with tension.

“That isn’t helping clear up my confusion, Chassie.”

“I don’t give a flying fig if it is or not. It needed to be said.”

“Got anything else that needs to be said?”

“Yeah.”

“Then spit it out.”

She didn’t answer. She didn’t know if she could.

The dryer buzzed in the cellar.

“Look at me.”

Chassie shook her head, hating how the demand wrapped within his silken command caused her heart to pound faster.

Then Edgard was in her space. His hand cupped her jaw, forcing her head up. “You do not get to drop that bomb and then pretend you didn’t light the fuse as you’re standing there holding the match.”

“That fits, because I feel like I’m walking through a goddamn minefield when it comes to this. None of this makes sense. You’re in love with my husband and despite those warning signs I could actually lose him, I’m…”

“What? Tell me.”

“I’m not sorry you came.”

Edgard’s gentle grip increased. “Are you messing with my head to get back at me because of my past with Trevor?”

“No.”

“I’m supposed to believe that all of a sudden you just accept…” His eyes burned with suspicion. “I see the lie in your eyes.”

“Not a lie.”

“Bullshit.”

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“What you see is insecurity and determination to see this conversation through, but not a goddamn lie because I’m bein’ completely honest with you. And myself.”

“And with Trevor? Does he know you intended to start this conversation?”

“No.”

“Why not? Didn’t it come up during pillow talk after you spent all afternoon fucking?”

“Jealous?” she taunted softly.

“Like you wouldn’t fucking believe.”

Tears welled in her eyes. “Stop. You’re hurting me,” she whispered.

Edgard’s hand dropped like it’d become dead weight.

Chassie wilted against the counter. Blood pulsing. Vision blurring. Confusion screaming in her head.

Several brutal seconds passed.

His eyes focused on where her fingers rubbed on her jawline. “Let me see.”

“It’s fine.”

“Then let me see it.”

She lowered her hand.

He winced. “Shit. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“I do. Jesus. Looks like Trevor ain’t the only one with a mean streak. You’ve been nothin’ but sweet and thoughtful to me since the minute I arrived. And how do I repay you when you have the
cajones
to confront me about all this confusing shit?” His rough finger traced the hot, sore spot. “By manhandling you.”

Her stomach flipped at his gentle touch.

Edgard murmured, “I’m sorry,
querida
, so very, very sorry. Sometimes I can be a total ass. I’d say I learned it from Trevor, but I think he learned it from me.” His warm lips skated over her jawbone in a teasing, soft kiss meant to soothe, meant as a sweet apology.

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If it was just an apologetic kiss, why did her skin tingle? Why did her pulse beat like a trapped bird’s? Why did she consider angling her throat, urging him to explore every ridge and hollow with those beautifully full lips?

Why in the hell didn’t he stop?

And then he did. Edgard practically jumped backward.

They stared at each other in absolute uncertainty without speaking.

That’s when Trevor walked in.

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“What the hell is goin’ on?”

Chassie snatched the empty beer bottle from the table and took it to the garbage can.

“Nothin’s goin’ on.”

Trevor turned to Edgard…who blinked at him innocently.

It’d looked like the two of them had been about to come to blows. Over what? Him?

Maybe you’re imagining it.

No. There was tension crackling between Chassie and Edgard. But if neither one would come clean, then he wasn’t about to push the issue. Enough issues lingered between them.

“What’s for supper?”

“Edgard cooked.” She paused. “Chili, I think.”

Chassie and Edgard exchanged a look, then burst out laughing.

Weird.

Edgard said, “It’s Brazilian stew.”

Trevor frowned at Ed. “What the hell is in that?”

“Whatever is leftover in the fridge and a can of stewed tomatoes.”

“Sounds good. You guys ready to eat?”

Chassie pointed at the sink. “Soon as you wash up. You want a beer?”

“No. Water’s fine.”

“Ed?”

“Water is fine for me too.”

Once the food had been dished up, they gathered around the table and ate in silence.

Trevor peeked at Chassie out of the corner of his eye. She was on her third beer, which was damn strange since she rarely drank more than one.

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Edgard shoved his empty bowl to the middle of the table. “I talked to the mechanic this afternoon.”

Trevor paused mid-bite. “And?”

“And I’ll be good to go day after tomorrow,” Edgard said, fiddling with his napkin.

Trevor almost demanded, “Already?” but he cautioned himself to stay cool. “They say how much the repairs’ll run ya?”

“Five hundred.”

“That ain’t bad.”

They talked specifics on the repairs, delving into the minute details neither of them gave a shit about, just to keep the conversation going. Just to avoid discussing what Edgard’s leaving really meant.

After five or so minutes of senseless car chatter, Chassie slapped her hands on the table, startling both men. “Enough. There’s been enough goddamn secrets, lies, and skirting the goddamn truth. No more. We’re gonna talk this through, startin’ right now.”