Chapter Two
When Trip picked up the decanter and leaned toward her, Shelley reluctantly covered her glass with her hand and shook her head.
“I’d love to,” she told him. “But I have to drive home, remember?”
He pursed his lips. “You don’t have to.”
They’d had this discussion before. The first time she’d come over to his place, she’d ended up staying the night. They hadn’t planned it. It had just worked out that way.
She’d been here one Sunday afternoon, and just as she was leaving, his friend, Travis, had shown up with Retta and a guy named Bear, who was a pilot.
The five of them had hung out for the evening, and before she’d even thought about it, Shelley had had too many glasses of wine to be able to drive home afterward.
She’d been careful since then not to overindulge. Of course, she’d enjoyed staying the night. Not that she’d stayed with Trip. But the guest room she’d used was fabulous. She wouldn’t mind staying in it again.
The trouble was… she’d be much happier staying in Trip’s room with him.
She bit back a laugh when he winked.
“Haven’t I proven that I’m a gentleman? You’ll be perfectly safe.”
“It’s not you I’m worried about,” she told him honestly.
His eyebrows shot up. “I think you need to explain yourself,” he said with a small smile.
“I think you know exactly what I mean. But… sorry. I shouldn’t have said it.”
He gave her a rueful smile. “Maybe not, but I’m glad you did.”
She stared at him for a long moment. “We shouldn’t even joke about it, should we?”
He sat back in his chair and took a sip of his wine, seeming to give his answer careful consideration before he spoke again.
“Maybe not,” he agreed eventually.
She was surprised by the heavy weight of disappointment that settled in her stomach.
“You’re right,” he added more forcefully. “We shouldn’t. So back to the matter at hand—you really can stay the night if you want to. No strings. No awkwardness. How about I put it this way?” He met her gaze. “If Trav or one of the other guys were here, they wouldn’t think twice about staying the night after having a few drinks.”
He chuckled. “And they certainly wouldn’t think twice about having a few drinks. We’ve established that we’re friends, haven’t we? So why should this be any different?”
She looked down into her glass before looking back up at him.
“It shouldn’t be any different, should it?”
She wanted to add that even though it shouldn’t, it still felt different. She wasn’t one of the guys. Yes, she enjoyed his friendship but… but nothing. He was right. She needed to stop allowing herself to get carried away.
She pushed her glass toward him. “Go on, then. I’ll have another.” She gave him a wry smile. “And you’re right. You have proven that I can trust you. And just so we’re clear—despite what I said—you can trust me, too.”
He topped up her glass before looking up with a smile. “Damn. And here I was hoping you might not be able to help yourself.”
She laughed. “I don’t think there’s any point in dancing around it all the time, is there? There’s just no point in acting on it.”
He blew out an exaggerated sigh. “No, I guess not. You’re right. As usual.”
She nodded. Part of her wanted to talk about it—to discuss whether there was actually anything wrong with acting on their attraction to each other. But the moment had passed.
He pushed his chair back from the table. “Want to go sit in the den?”
She looked around, thinking she should at least clear the table first.
He shrugged. “I’ll get it later.”
“Are you sure?” she asked.
She hated to think she might be creating more work for his housekeeper, Anita.
He nodded vigorously. “Don’t worry. Just because I have help doesn’t mean I take advantage of them.”
“I didn’t think…”
He raised an eyebrow, and she had to laugh.
“Okay, so that’s exactly what I was thinking. I didn’t want to leave all this mess for Anita.”
“And we won’t. I told you—I’ll clean up later. I just thought we could sit for a while and be comfortable.” He patted his stomach. “I’m feeling too full and lazy to do anything right now. In fact, do you want to watch a movie?”
“Okay, sure. Why not?”
She picked up her glass and followed him through to the den. It was a lovely room. The whole house was beautiful. It was furnished luxuriously, but that didn’t stop it from feeling cozy. Homey. And the den was the coziest room of all, at least of the rooms she’d seen.
“Make yourself comfortable,” Trip said. “I’ll be back.”
He set his glass down on the coffee table in front of the sofa.
Shelley made a face. Did that mean he intended to sit on the sofa? And if so, should she take one of the armchairs? She didn’t know, and it shouldn’t really matter. Even if they both sat on the sofa, that didn’t mean anything.
She smiled to herself. If she chose to sit in one of the armchairs, that probably would mean something. Or it would look that way. She settled at one end of the sofa, curious to see whether he would take the other.
She was being silly. They’d just established that they were friends and that they weren’t going to entertain anything beyond that. But she was still pleased when he came back in and sat down on the other end of the sofa.
He picked up the remote and turned to her with a smile. “What kind of movies do you like?”
She shrugged. “I’m not generally a big TV watcher. What do you like?”
The way he smiled made her laugh.
“What’s so funny?” he asked.
“Nothing, sorry. Just… your guilty little smile made me think you’re about to admit that you like watching soap operas or something.”
Her tummy flipped over when he threw back his head and laughed. There was just something so sexy about the way he did that.
“You’re safe there,” he said. “I’m not going to ask you to watch soap operas with me. I am about to make a confession, though.”
“Oh yeah? What kind of confession?”
“I like watching romantic comedies.”
“Seriously?”
He nodded solemnly. “Seriously. There’s just something relaxing about them. Don’t laugh at me.”
“I wasn’t about to laugh. To tell you the truth, I’m kind of relieved. I thought we’d be sitting here watching an old western or some shoot-’em-up action movie.”
He shook his head. “No. I’ll watch those sometimes, but on a Friday night like this—when it’s time to relax—I’d rather watch something feel-good and funny. You know?”
“I do know. I’m the same.”
He narrowed his eyes at her. “You’re just humoring me now, aren’t you?”
She laughed. “No. I know you probably don’t have me down as a romantic comedy kind of girl, but I’m the same as you. I’m not above a bit of light and fluffy, feel-good comedy. So, what are your favorites? What do you want to watch?”
He chuckled as he clicked the remote at the TV, and she had to laugh with him when the screen came on and he navigated to a list of favorites.
“Take your pick,” he said with a smile. “I like them all.”
~ ~ ~
Trip put his feet up on the coffee table and leaned his head back against the sofa. The sound of Shelley’s laughter made him smile.
Being honest with her—sharing what felt like his guilty little secret about liking romantic comedies—had kind of been a way of testing her.
She didn’t strike him as the kind of woman who would enjoy them. Part of him had expected her to judge him for his confession. He was relieved and pleasantly surprised to find that he was wrong.
He took another sip of his wine, emptying the glass. Glancing over at Shelley, he noticed that hers was empty too. He got to his feet.
“I’m going to have some more wine. Do you want any?”
She grinned. “I don’t see why not. I may as well justify staying over since I’m here.”
When he came back from the kitchen with the decanter, she gave him a puzzled look.
“I thought that was empty.”
He chuckled. “It was. I figured we might both want another glass, so I refilled it.”
He sat back down beside her and filled her glass.
“Thanks.”
“Do you want anything else? Any munchies or anything?”
“Want? Yes. I’d love one of those sundaes I spied in the freezer. But…” She sighed. “I couldn’t. I ate too much already.”
“I know the feeling. I was thinking the same thing. We can have them tomorrow.”
He frowned. What was he talking about? Tomorrow? It wasn’t as though she was here for the weekend. She was just staying over so that she could have a drink.
He was relieved when she laughed off his mistake.
“Are you suggesting that we should have sundaes for breakfast?”
He shrugged. “We could. There’s so much food in there that we can have whatever we like. Although, I’m more of a bacon-and-eggs-for-breakfast guy.”
She smiled. “Me too. And I’ll bet that’s one thing Maisie hasn’t left ready for you. So how about I make bacon and eggs in the morning? Let me at least feel like I’m pulling my weight.”
“It sounds like a plan to me, if you want to do that.”
She nodded and took a sip of her wine. “I do.” She stuck her tongue out at him. “Now, would you be quiet and let me watch the movie?”
He laughed and settled back into his seat. “Well, excuse the fuck out of me. I guess you’re really not just watching it to humor me, are you?”
She gave him a mock frown. “I am not , and if you keep talking over it, I’m going to have to rewind a bit.”
He laughed and pretended to zip up his lips. After that, they sat mostly in silence apart from the occasional laugh.
It made something clear to him, one of the reasons why he enjoyed her company so much; she wasn’t a big talker.
Well… maybe that wasn’t the right way to say it. They’d had some great conversations, but she didn’t need to talk all the time.
He scowled when he realized he was comparing her to Katrina. Katrina liked to talk.
All the time.
She used to exhaust him.
He didn’t know why he was even thinking about her. She was long gone, and he was well rid of her.
He glanced over at Shelley again. She was divorced, too. She hadn’t told him much about her marriage or her husband. She didn’t seem to hold any bitterness, though. From the way she’d explained it to him, she’d burned out in her old career as a lawyer.
He admired the way she’d chosen to live since then. The way she told it, she’d hit a wall in her career. And when she faced that, she’d also had to face the fact that her marriage was over.
The way she dealt with it sounded perfectly reasonable to him. Instead of sticking around to carry out a post-mortem on her old life, she’d packed a single suitcase, climbed into her car, and headed out. If he understood correctly, that had been a couple of years ago now.
She’d been living as something of a nomad. When she left Pennsylvania, she’d headed down to Florida and spent a couple of months by the beach, decompressing. From there, she’d worked her way across the country, stopping in whatever town suited her for as long as she wanted to.
He could see the appeal in living life that way. Although just because he found the idea appealing didn’t mean he’d consider it for himself.
He was happy here. The valley was his home. Sure, he’d been gone for years while he was in the Navy, but he’d always planned to come home.
He’d lived in town for the first few years after he returned—the years that he was married to Katrina. After his dad died, she’d wanted to move here to the ranch. And if he was honest, that had been the beginning of the end for him.
Their marriage had never been great.
He couldn’t lay all the blame on her. He hadn’t been a great husband—he knew that. But Katrina definitely hadn’t been a great match for him.
Listening to Shelley laugh, he surprised himself with the thought that she might be a great match. She was a strong, independent kind of woman. She was confident, competent, self-contained. The kind of woman he admired.
Katrina had been confident enough, but rather than standing on her own two feet, Trip used to feel as though she tried to stand on his shoulders.
She went out of her way to let people know that she was his wife. He might not have minded that so much if it was simply the fact of being married to him that she was so proud of.
He knew better, though. What she really wanted people to know was that she was the daughter-in-law of the great Jack Harvey.
Trip sat up a little straighter.
Why was he giving Katrina any headspace when he should be enjoying his time chilling out with Shelley? He focused on the TV again and was surprised to see that the movie was almost over. He wondered if she’d want to watch another but had to smile when he looked over at her.
Her eyes were closed.
He cleared his throat, but she didn’t seem to notice.
"Shelley?" he asked in a low voice.
She still didn’t respond.
He let out a short laugh. The first time he invited a woman to sleep over in years—and he couldn’t even entertain her enough to keep her awake.
He picked up their glasses and took them to the kitchen. He loaded the dishwasher and wiped down the counters before going back to check on her. She was fast asleep.
"Hey, Shelley."
This time he spoke louder than before.
"Shelley, honey. Do you want to go to bed?"
She opened her eyes and gave him a sleepy smile that hit him right in the chest.
No. He wasn’t going to go thinking about seeing her smile that way at him in bed in the morning.
“Shit. Sorry. Did I fall asleep?"
He chuckled. "You did. But there’s nothing for you to apologize for. I should be the one doing that—I’m sorry my company was so stimulating that you dozed off."
She made a face at him. "It’s not because of you, and you know it."
She yawned. "I think it has more to do with all the good food and wine. I’m awake again now, though.”
“I think it’s probably time to turn in, don’t you?"
"Yeah. Even though I’m awake now, I’ll probably be asleep again in five minutes."
He held out his hand to help her to her feet. She took hold of it and heaved herself up. When she stood toe-to-toe with him, that same prickly feeling raced over his scalp and down the back of his neck.
He should step back, give her some space. But he didn’t want to. Her pupils dilated as she looked into his eyes.
"Thanks," she breathed.
He couldn’t tear his gaze away from hers. It’d be all too easy to ask if she wanted to go to bed—with him.
He squeezed his eyes shut and took a step back as he said, "No problem. Do you need to get anything from your car?"
"I don’t have anything in there. I wasn’t expecting to stay over, remember?"
"That’s okay. There are supplies in the guest bathroom—toothbrush, toothpaste, whatever you might need."
"Thanks."
"Not a problem."
Her lips seemed to quiver as she smiled. "I don’t suppose there are any pajamas in there, are there?"
"No, but you can borrow some of mine if you need some." He gave her a puzzled smile. “Do you need some?”
"I will, if you don’t mind. It’s a habit I got into years ago."
She hesitated before continuing.
"We had an intruder in the house. Jeff told me to go outside while he dealt with them. I was so scared. My hands were shaking so much that it took me ages to pull some clothes on. I know it’s crazy, but ever since then, I like to sleep in pajamas. You know, just in case I need to get out in a hurry."
"Damn. What happened with the intruders?"
"They fled when they heard Jeff moving around. They didn’t even take anything." She shuddered. "But the memory stayed with me. I had nightmares for months afterward about running around the streets naked because I had to get out of the house before I had a chance to get dressed."
He smiled. "Well, you won’t need to worry about that here. Come on, we’ll find you some pajamas."
As he followed her up the stairs, Trip didn’t know whether to regret or be glad that he’d gestured for her to go ahead of him. He couldn’t take his eyes off her ass the whole way.
He hesitated when they reached the door to the guest bedroom she’d stayed in last time.
“Do you want to go in and I’ll bring you some PJs? Or would you rather come and choose?”
He loved that little smile that played on her lips again before she answered.
“I should probably wait here. I trust you to choose. And I’m not sure that I …” She didn’t finish the sentence, but the unspoken words hung in the air between them. Damn, he was tempted.
She finally dropped her gaze. “Ignore me. I’ll be in here digging out that spare toothbrush. Thanks.”
He went to his own room and found a pair of pajamas for her. He rarely wore the things himself. When he returned to the guest bedroom, the door was open, but he knocked anyway.
Shelley came out of the bathroom. “Come on in.”
He handed her the pajamas with a rueful smile. “Here you go. I’ll say goodnight now.”
She chuckled. “Don’t worry, I’m not going to pounce on you.”
He laughed with her. “Worried isn’t the word that comes to mind.”
She raised her eyebrows, but he shook his head. “I’ll see you in the morning. Sleep in if you can. I don’t have anything going on tomorrow.”
“Thanks. I might take you up on that. It’s been a while since I’ve slept in.”
He hesitated but decided to ask, “Do you have any plans for the weekend?”
She shrugged. “Nothing much. Just the usual. Grocery shopping and the joys of domesticity. How about you?”
“About the same,” he said, not wanting to remind her that he didn’t need to take care of his own domestic details. His housekeeper did that for him.
She hugged the pajamas to her chest. “Thanks for these.”
He nodded. “You’re welcome.” He should go. He knew it. But he didn’t want to. When she met his gaze again, he had the feeling that she didn’t want him to go, either.
He considered it—it’d be all too easy, but he leaned in quickly and pressed a quick kiss to her cheek.
“Goodnight, Shelley. I’ll see you in the morning.”
~ ~ ~
Shelley watched him go and stood there a few moments longer, staring at the door, which he closed behind him. She needed to watch herself. She’d been so tempted to ask him to stay. If she wasn’t mistaken, he’d been considering it himself.
She headed back to the bathroom to put on the pajamas.
Right now—maybe it was the wine, maybe it wasn’t—she was trying to remember why getting involved with Trip—even sleeping with Trip—was a bad idea.
She settled into the huge, carved oak four-poster bed. It was like something out of a movie. Only in a movie, you wouldn’t be able to get the idea of just how comfortable it was.
She sighed and turned onto her shoulder. She knew she’d sleep well tonight, and not just because of the wine. She snuggled down, loving the softness of Trip’s pajamas. Not just the softness, but the smell.
They smelled like him.
She pursed her lips. How did she even know that? She hadn’t been aware until this moment that she’d registered the way the man smelled.
She shook her head with a smile. It was probably just the wine talking.
She should go to sleep.