Chapter Six
When Trip woke up on Sunday morning, he immediately knew why his arm was numb; it was still wrapped around Shelley. She was lying on her side with her chin on his chest, still fast asleep. Not even the discomfort in his arm made him want to move.
He wanted to enjoy this moment. Happiness bubbled in his chest. He hadn't thought this day would ever come—the day when he got to wake up with her in his arms. Now he was here, and it was even better than he could have hoped. He pursed his lips. If he were honest, it was even better than he'd fantasized.
He hadn't lied when he told her he'd thought about having her in his bed. He just hadn't told her how often he'd thought about it. Last night, he'd felt like a fool when he realized he didn't even have any condoms. They weren’t something he normally needed. But she'd been so cool about it. He shouldn't be surprised—she was cool about pretty much everything.
He lay his head back against the pillows and stared up at the ceiling. A knot formed in his stomach when he remembered that, as wonderful as last night had been, whatever they shared wasn't going to last for long. He resolved then and there not to worry about it. He knew damn well that if he did, it would only cast a shadow over whatever time they had together. He hadn't expected to want a woman in his life again. Having Shelley in it for just a few weeks was an unexpected bonus.
He had to look at it that way. For one thing, it was true. And for another, wishing for more wouldn’t get him anywhere. He smiled when she tapped her fingers in the middle of his chest.
"You're awake."
He ran his hand over her hair. "I am. How'd you sleep?"
She grinned. "Even better than I did on Friday night. These mattresses are wonderful." She tightened her arm around his waist. "But a mattress like this, and getting to share with you? I don't think there's anything more in life I could ask for."
He chuckled. "Sweet talker."
She shook her head rapidly. "I'm not blowing smoke, Trip. It's true."
He smiled through pursed lips. He was tempted to point out to her that if it were true, then she could have everything she wanted in life, and there’d be no need for her to move on. But he knew she was only joking, and he didn't need to make things serious. Even if she were on the same page as him, it'd be too soon to start talking like that anyway.
Instead, he kissed her forehead and said, "I feel the same way. The mattress makes this the most comfortable bed in the world—but getting to share the bed with you makes me the happiest guy in the world."
She rolled her eyes at him. "Now who’s sweet talking?"
He chuckled. He’d known she wouldn’t take him seriously, and that was fine. In fact, it might be a good thing. He’d be able to go ahead and tell her exactly what he was thinking without worrying whether it would be too much for her. She’d just dismiss his words as sweet talk .
He leaned in and pressed a kiss to her lips. "What do you think? Are you too comfortable to get up? Would you like a coffee? I can go down and make some and bring it up for you."
Her eyes grew wide. "You'd do that? Seriously? Are you trying to tell me that I get this mattress, you, and coffee?"
"I'm not just trying to tell you, honey. That’s exactly what I’m saying."
She nodded vigorously. "If you want to bring us some coffee, then this might have to go down as the best morning ever. As long as you promise to get back in here with me."
"I promise."
Trip got out of bed and walked into his closet to find some pajamas to go downstairs in. When he came out, Shelley grinned at him.
"What?" he asked with a puzzled smile.
She sat up, holding the sheet to her chest. "I'm not laughing at you. I'm just smiling. Seeing you in pajamas made me realize that I forgot to put some on before we went to sleep."
"You don't need them here," he reassured her.
"If I'm being realistic, I probably don’t need them anywhere, do I? It's not so much about needing them—not about the possibility of some emergency meaning I’d have to jump out of bed in the middle of the night. It’s more about me feeling like I need them."
She met his gaze and held it. "I feel safe around you."
A rush of warmth filled his chest. Her words meant more to him than he knew how to explain. All he could say was, "That’s because you are. I’ll go and get us that coffee."
He opened the bedroom door but turned to look back at her before he left. There was so much he wanted to say, but he didn’t know how. And even if he could find the words, he didn’t know if she’d want to hear it.
He went with, "I’m glad you’re here." But it didn’t feel like enough.
In the kitchen, he went to check his phone while the coffee was brewing. He smiled when he saw a text from Travis.
Trav: Hey, bud. Do you want to come to the MacFarland place for lunch today? I didn't ask you yesterday because I didn't know if we were going. Retta decided she wants to, so we'll be there. You should come. Give me a call and let me know.
Trip set his phone back down. He wouldn't mind going over to the MacFarland place to hang out with everyone. But if Shelley was open to spending the day with him, he’d rather stay here with her.
He checked the clock on the microwave. It was still early. He didn’t need to let Travis know just yet. When the coffee was ready, he prepared two mugs and set them on a tray, along with a plate of chocolate croissants that Maisie had baked.
As he made his way back upstairs, the irony wasn’t lost on him that Katrina used to complain all the time that he never did little things like bringing her breakfast in bed or sending her flowers. He hadn’t wanted to do things like that for her. Maybe in the beginning he had, but once it had started to feel like an expectation, all the enjoyment had gone out of it for him.
He looked down at the tray in his hands. He knew this wasn’t the same situation—far from it. Shelley didn’t expect a damn thing from him. And yet, he was already trying to dream up little things he could do for her. She was the kind of person who looked for little details to be happy about, and she always showed her appreciation.
That thought made him smile. For the short time she was still going to be here, he was going to do everything he could to give her reasons to be happy. He wasn’t a fool—he didn’t think anything he did might persuade her to stay. That wasn’t his motivation.
It was simply that he wanted both of them to be able to look back on this time as a happy period in their lives. Maybe even one of the happiest.
~ ~ ~
It was almost seven by the time Shelley got home on Sunday evening. She hadn't intended to spend the whole day at Trip's place, but she was glad that it had worked out that way. They'd hung out in bed until almost ten o’clock. She squeezed her thighs together. They'd made good use of that time—and not just drinking coffee and eating pastries.
When they finally got up, they’d had a lot of fun making breakfast together, joking around as they worked side by side. After they'd eaten, they’d spent the rest of the day just hanging out. They hadn't done much of anything in particular, but it had been a great day.
The only moment she'd felt uncomfortable had been when Trip's friend, Travis, had called. She could tell from Trip's end of the conversation that he was inviting him out somewhere. She'd waved at him, trying to tell him that he should go. She didn't want to hold him back. Even while he was still talking, he'd smiled and shook his head.
After he ended the call, he'd told her Travis had wanted him to go to the MacFarland Ranch for lunch. She'd started gathering her things, telling him that he should go, but he'd wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her back against him, saying that he didn't want to go; that he wanted to spend the rest of the day with her.
As she let herself into the house, she looked around. It was a perfectly lovely little house, but over the course of the weekend, she'd come to feel much more at home at Trip's place than she ever had here. She made a face as she took her duffel bag to the laundry room. She shouldn't make too much out of that.
Who wouldn't feel more at home in Trip's multimillion-dollar mansion than they did here?
She stopped, hand midair, reaching for the laundry detergent, when it hit her that the answer to that question was her. She'd never been the kind of person who was into big houses or luxury cars or any of the trappings of wealth. She and Jeff had lived in a modest house when they were married, and since then, she'd been living her nomadic life, renting smaller, more economical houses or apartments.
Of course, she made sure that they were in safe areas, and they tended to be quaint and quirky rather than basic, but she was more concerned with comfort and security than luxury. She smiled to herself as she turned on the washing machine. That was the explanation for why she felt so at home at Trip's place. It had less to do with the house and more to do with him.
With Trip, she felt both comfortable and safe.
The sound of her phone ringing had her hurrying back to the kitchen and rummaging through her purse for it. When she found it, she smiled when she saw Harper's name on the screen.
"Hey, you," she answered with a smile. "Sorry I haven't replied to your email yet. It's been a busy weekend. How are you?"
Harper laughed. "You don't need to apologize. I'm not calling to harass you. I just have an empty evening stretching out ahead of me, so I thought I'd give my friend a call and check in. And to answer your question, I'm fine, thanks. How are you?"
"I'm good."
"What are you up to? Do you have an empty evening stretching out ahead of you, too? And what's with the busy weekend? What have you been up to?"
Shelley pressed her lips together, trying to hold in a smile. She knew damn well what Harper's reaction would be if she told her how she'd spent the weekend. Her friend knew her too well.
"The silence is stretching out for too long," Harper said. "You've been up to something, and you're debating whether you should tell me or not. I vote that you should."
Shelley laughed. "All right, all right, but don't get too carried away, okay?"
"Ooh, I like the sound of this! And no, I can't promise that I won't get carried away. Just tell me already. What have you been up to?"
Shelley wandered into the living room and flopped down on the sofa. "I spent the weekend with Trip."
"Really?"
Shelley laughed and held the phone away from her ear when Harper squealed.
"Trip's the sexy doctor, right?"
"You know he is," said Shelley.
Harper squealed again. "And?"
"And what?"
"You know damn well what—what happened? Did you...?"
"We did."
"Oh my God, Shelley, that's awesome! I'm so happy for you!"
Shelley laughed. "Happy for me? That's a strange thing to say."
Harper laughed with her. "Not really. Not if you think about it."
Shelley's smile faded. "I'm not saying that we got together or anything. I'm not saying that we're starting a relationship or..."
"Hm. I'm not sure I believe that. I know you too well. To be clear, I'm happy for you that you finally got some. I mean, come on, it has to have been years. And I find it hard to believe that this isn't the beginning of a relationship. I mean, like I said, it's been years since you slept with a guy. You don't sleep with someone if you're not emotionally involved with them, too."
Shelley leaned her head back against the sofa. Harper had a point, but this was different.
"Say something," Harper urged after Shelley had been quiet for a few moments.
"I was just trying to figure it out, and I think I have. It's really not the beginning of a relationship. It can't be. I'm only going to be here for another month. And even apart from that, he's not looking for anything. Neither am I. But you're right that I am emotionally involved with him. Just not in a relationship kind of way. I've worked for him for months, remember? We spend most of our days together. And a lot of our free time, too. He's become a friend. A good friend."
Harper sighed. "Yeah, I can see all of that, but there's more to it. Are you going to tell me that I'm wrong?"
Shelley blew out a sigh of her own. "You know, if you were a lawyer, I'd complain that you're badgering the witness. I'd object."
"So sue me," Harper said with a laugh. "But do it after you've answered the question."
"Okay! You already know that I think the world of him."
"And that you find him sexy as—"
"Harper!" Shelley laughed. "Why do you always say that? I've never told you that."
"You might not have spelled it out, but you make it obvious in everything you say about the man. You think he's attractive, you think he's a great guy, you call him a friend… so, you know, it begs the question."
"What question?"
"Why isn't this the beginning of a relationship?"
"You know the answer to that."
"Because you're going to be leaving Montana soon?"
"Exactly."
"But why? That’s what I don’t get. Do you even know where you're headed next?"
Shelley shrugged, and even though Harper couldn't see the gesture, she continued as if she had. "Exactly. You can't give me a single good reason for leaving. And you don't even know where you're going. What's that about?"
Shelley shrugged again. "Do you want to know the truth?"
"I'm not badgering you for the fun of it," Harper said.
"He doesn't want a relationship."
Harper was quiet for a long few moments before she asked, "He told you that? Or you're assuming that?"
"He kind of told me."
"Kind of?"
The heavy weight of disappointment had settled in Shelley's stomach as the conversation went on.
"Yeah. And if you want to know the rest of the truth, it makes me sad. But you know me; I’m a realist. So, there you go. We've covered that subject. Now, tell me about you."
"Oh, Shelley, I'm sorry. I'll let it go, but only because you sound so down." Harper sighed. "As for me, I'm okay. In between jobs. I’m ready for a break, so I'll get back to pestering you about whether I can come visit before you leave."
She laughed. "And just to make it an easy decision, I'll say that if you decide to spend more time with the good doctor, I won't get in the way. If I come to visit, and you want to hang out with him—or spend the night with him or whatever—I can stay in that cute little house you're at all by myself. You know me; I’m no trouble and I’m perfectly capable of entertaining myself."
Shelley smiled. "It'd be good to see you."
"You too. So, do you have any dates that are better? Any time that’s a no-go?"
Shelley thought about it. "Not that I can think of. Why don’t you shoot me some dates, and we’ll figure it out?"
"Sounds like a plan. I'll do that. Crap, I have another call coming in. I’ll have to go. I'll email you dates later, okay?"
"Okay."
"Love you, Shelley-bells. I’ll see you soon."
"Love you too, Harpsichord."
~ ~ ~
After Shelley had gone, Trip wandered around the house, tidying the few things that were out of place. The house felt quiet and still … because it was.
He loved his home. He loved living here. Usually, the quiet and stillness felt peaceful to him, but right now, after all the laughter and good conversation he'd shared with Shelley this weekend, it felt kind of oppressive. Maybe even depressing.
He looked around, wondering what else he could do, and then headed upstairs to collect his laundry. His housekeeper, Anita, usually did laundry on Monday mornings, but if he did it now, she'd have a bit more time to herself tomorrow.
He grabbed the bag out of the hamper in his closet and smiled when he saw the pajamas Shelley had worn folded neatly on top. He picked them up and held them to his face, breathing in the scent of her.
Then he dropped them quickly, chuckling to himself as he did. He'd only wanted to remember the way she smelled, but he had to wonder if he wouldn't look like a perv if anyone caught him.
He put the pajamas back in the bag and headed downstairs. He didn't need to go around sniffing clothes. He'd see her again in the morning.
After he started the washing machine, he checked the time. It was only seven o’clock. He could settle down in front of a movie, but he'd already put in a lot of TV time this weekend. And he knew damn well that if he sat there by himself, he'd spend more time thinking about when Shelley was there with him than actually watching a movie.
He was restless anyway. He grabbed a jacket from the mudroom and headed out.
He paused when he reached his SUV but decided that a walk would do him more good. So, he set out down the driveway toward the barn. He skirted the bunkhouse, hoping none of the guys would spot him. He didn't want to disturb their evening.
As well as he got along with them, he knew they saw him as the boss man. They deserved to relax on a Sunday evening and not feel as though he was out here checking on them.
He entered the barn and made his way down the aisle between the stalls, greeting each of the horses as he went. It was quiet in here, but a completely different kind of quiet than up at the house. Here, the sounds of the horses broke the silence, making the place feel alive and welcoming rather than empty.
He tensed when he sensed movement behind him and spun around quickly.
Brody, the foreman, stood silhouetted in the entrance to the barn. He held his hands up.
"Hey, Trip. Sorry, I didn't realize it was you. I thought there was someone prowling around."
Trip chuckled. "Yeah, sorry. I suppose I am prowling. I was trying to stay out of the way. What are you doing here, though? Shouldn't you be at Chico tonight?"
"I gave myself the night off," Brody said. "I'm thinking about giving it up."
"Why’s that?" Trip asked.
"Because I don't need to do it anymore. I used to enjoy it. I used to enjoy the work, and I used to enjoy the team we had behind the bar. But since Tanner quit, and a couple of the others, it's not the same.
"The new staff we've brought in are fine—they're good people—but I feel like the old era is over, and I don't want to be part of the new one."
"I can understand that," Trip said. "I just wanted to make sure you're not feeling overworked. I can give you more time if you—"
"It's not that; I've managed the bar over at Chico and worked this place during the day for the last couple of years. Nothing's changed in that respect. I'm just ready to have more time to myself.
"Like I said, with the old team, it used to feel like that was my social life. It's different now." He smiled. "I think I might be about ready to get myself a real life."
"There must be something in the air," said Trip.
Brody raised his eyebrows. "Mind if I ask?"
"Ask what?"
"About the car that was parked outside the big house for most of the weekend."
Trip had to smile. "Are you telling me that you didn't recognize it?"
Brody laughed. "I wouldn't even try to pretend; I know it was Shelley. Did you two finally get together?"
"Finally?"
"Yeah. I had a feeling that was going to happen from the first time I met her. You two just seem like a good match."
Trip considered his words carefully. Not because he thought Brody would repeat anything he said, just because he was trying to get clear on how he saw things himself.
"We had a good weekend," he said eventually. "I think we'll be seeing more of each other. But..."
"But you're not such a good match?" Brody asked.
"It's not that. She's leaving soon."
"Well, shit. She still plans to go?"
Trip nodded.
"That's a shame."
"I think so," Trip agreed.
"And you're not going to try to persuade her to stay?"
He shrugged. He'd been considering doing just that, but he didn't know if it was the right move.
"You'll figure it out," Brody told him with a smile. "I have faith in you, boss. You figure everything out. You're that kind of guy. If Shelley's the one for you—and I get the impression that she is—you'll find a way to make it work."
As he walked back up to the house a little while later, Trip mulled over what Brody had said. He appreciated the foreman’s faith in him. He just didn't know if Shelley was the one for him.
Maybe that wasn't true.
He knew damn well that she could be. He just hadn't thought that he'd ever want to allow a woman into his life again.
Sure, he'd been hoping that she wouldn’t leave, but persuading her to stay was a whole different proposition.