You're Still the One

“I don’t know any of these people, do I?”

Rachel started. It wasn’t his question that made her jump, but the proximity of his mouth to her ear…his warm breath gliding over her skin. She’d already led him through the living room without realizing it. The guests were all staring at him—of course they were, they were women.

Her birthday celebration had included them, and they’d heard the dinner talk. Now they were putting two and two together, and they were checking out the hot, sexy rodeo star.

“You don’t,” she said, pausing to clear her head enough to ensure her voice and brain were in sync. Obviously he didn’t know about the dude ranch part of the Sundance. “So much has happened just in the past year….”

They had to sidestep Carla, a guest from Indianapolis, who blocked their path to the family room. She got in a breathy, “Hi,” aimed at Matt before they could pass her.

“Evenin’,” he said, giving her a polite smile.

“Have some cake, Carla,” Rachel said pleasantly, but stayed on course. She tilted her head closer to Matt. “We’re going to keep walking or else you can forget about your beer.”

“Yeah, I know,” he said, which probably shouldn’t have made Rachel smile because his grim tone indicated he might be sick of too much female attention at this point in his career.

She wondered how he’d handled the buckle-bunny phenomena. Although the rodeo scene had never interested her, she knew about the groupies who followed the circuit. It didn’t matter if the guy was attractive. If he was at the top of his game, he was getting a whole lot of hotel room keys stuffed in his pockets.

For Matt, it had to be a double whammy. He’d always been good-looking with his sun-lightened hair and beautiful blue eyes. It wasn’t just her opinion. Half the girls in high school, all four grades, had secretly crushed on him. Yet he’d only had one girlfriend. They’d both been sophomores, as serious as two fifteen-year-olds can be…until his father had humiliated him in front of Emily and then ran her off the Lone Wolf.

Now, almost thirty, Matt was even better-looking than he’d been at nineteen. The years had given his face more character, with fine lines at the outside corners of his eyes, grooves along his sexy mouth that apparently she’d been unable to suitably appreciate in her youth. His nose seemed different, though, a bit crooked.

“Rachel, wait.” He caught her arm just outside the family room.

Her heart nearly stopped. Had he noticed her staring? If he felt compelled to point out he was with Nikki and not interested in straying, Rachel would just die. Right here. Right now, on her twenty-sixth birthday. So sad.

She did as he asked, but he didn’t let go. Staring into each other’s eyes, they stood in a small semi-private foyer that was the result of an addition to the original house.

Matt smiled. “It’s good to see you.” He stroked his palm down her arm to her hand, and lightly squeezed.

“Yeah, you, too.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t remember.”

“What?”

He lowered his head, slowly closing the distance between their mouths.

Rachel sucked in a breath so hard she thought she’d pass out. Holy crap, he was going to kiss her….

He moved his head, just a tad, and pressed a kiss to her cheek. “Happy birthday, kiddo.”

4

RACHEL DIDN’T CARE THAT he was so handsome he made her thighs clench. Or that there were far too many witnesses in the next room. She was going to strangle him.

Kiddo.

A barely contained growl chafed her throat. This was like adding the proverbial salt to the wound.

He had to know…the way he’d leaned into her…the dark intensity of his eyes…well, naturally she’d expected an entirely different kind of kiss.

Dammit, she didn’t understand this grown-up version of Matt at all. Her teasing and flirting used to earn her slow bashful smiles. She’d enjoyed having the upper hand.

Or had she? As a kid had she gotten his reaction to her mixed up? Maybe those smiles had been patronizing. Her breath caught painfully somewhere between her lungs and her throat.

“Thanks,” she said, smiled brightly and led him into the family room, announcing, “Look who’s here.”

Cole and Trace both glanced up from their game of pool. Jamie was there, too. Just in case Jamie was making faces at her, Rachel kept her eyes averted.

“Hey, Matt.” Cole leaned his stick against the wall, and stuck out his hand as he came around the table. “Good to see you, buddy.”

Trace passed his cue to Sandy, a pretty blonde who’d checked in yesterday. Her quieter friend, Krista, was already holding Trace’s beer.

“I should’ve known you hustlers were back here.” Matt shook each of their hands, and acknowledged the women with a polite nod.

“Hustlers, huh?” Sandy baited Trace, while she discreetly sized up Matt.

“Now that’s what you call sour grapes. Matt can’t play worth spit. We used to humiliate him.”

“Yep.” Matt laughed. “I still suck at it.” He stuffed his hands in his jeans’ pockets and leaned a shoulder against the wall. “You guys still keep a running score?”

Cole snorted, and eyed Trace. “No. Some of us are busy and don’t have enough time to play these days.”

“Translation…” Trace said with a cocky smile, “I’m still whipping him.”

Leaping to Cole’s defense, Jamie let out a haughty “You do not.”

“That’s my girl.” Chuckling, Cole caught her hand. “Matt, this is Jamie.”

“I see things have changed around here.” Matt briefly raised his brows at Cole. “Nice meeting you, Jamie.”

“Yes, likewise.”

“Now you know why my brother has no time for pool.” Trace reclaimed the cue from Sandy. She gave him a stiff smile and a pointed look. “Oh, yeah, Matt, this—” Trace paused, a fleeting expression of panic on his face. “You want a beer?” Trace didn’t wait for the answer. He flashed a winning smile at the tall blonde. “Darlin’, you mind getting Matt a cold one?”

“Sure.”

Rachel and Jamie exchanged glances. They knew Trace had already forgotten the woman’s name. Rachel pressed her lips together and lowered her gaze to the eight ball in the corner, trying not to laugh. She should bail him out. Not to be nice, he deserved to squirm, but it wasn’t fair to let their guests feel uncomfortable.

She moved around the pool table and picked up two empty glasses sitting on the window ledge. “Sandy, Krista, would you like another drink?”

“Not me, thanks.” Krista exhaled loudly. “Trace’s punch nearly did me in.”

“Amen,” Sandy added, pulling a bottle out of the small fridge.

“Yeah,” Rachel said. “I don’t think we’ll let him play bartender again.” Okay, she’d done her part. Let Trace figure out who was who.

Matt pushed off the wall to take the beer Sandy passed him. “Thanks.” He gave her a smile that could melt a brick. “I don’t recall so many pretty women in Blackfoot Falls before I left.”