A Randall Thanksgiving (15 page)

“These people are my family and a friend, Pierre.
And we won’t discuss anything when I return to France, because I’ll be packing to come home for good!”

As if she’d set off a bomb, both Pierre and her father jumped to their feet, one protesting and one celebrating.

Harry sat there stunned. She was staying? What had made her change her mind? Of course, that didn’t mean she’d return to Rawhide, but who knew? Maybe she’d come home more often, at least. Would that be enough for him?

No, it wouldn’t.

He stood up, seeing the discomfort on his hostess’s face. “Camille, why don’t you save my piece of cake for another time, and I’ll take Pierre back into town? We don’t want him to miss his flight.”

“Oh, bless you Harry, that would be wonderful.”

“Come on, Pierre,” Harry announced, speaking loudly to be heard over the other men’s voices. “Time for you to go.” He grabbed his arm and began dragging him toward the door.

“
Non!
I must speak to Melissa!”

“I think you’ve already said too much.” Harry kept moving to the door. Griff got up to assist him, hustling Pierre from behind.

Harry was half afraid Pierre might turn around and fight Melissa’s dad when they got outside. He probably figured Griff’s age would slow him down. Harry tried to hide the smile that thought induced.

Once he got Pierre in his truck, he hurried around to
the driver’s side and sped toward Rawhide. Though it wasn’t a long trip, it took longer than he liked, with Pierre yelling at him nonstop in both English and French. Harry parked in front the Sheriff’s Office, and Pierre jerked open his door.

“I will not forget this,
jamais!”

“Okay. Have a good flight.” Harry even managed to offer a friendly smile.

Pierre growled before he stalked across the street to Dale’s apartment. Harry was pretty sure Dale was working, so he wouldn’t have to warn him about his angry guest.

With a rueful chuckle, Harry wandered up stairs to his own place. He didn’t have anything planned for the rest of the day, but at least he didn’t have to think of Melissa going back to France with Pierre.

That didn’t stop Harry from missing her.

T
HE STUNNED SILENCE
was broken when Griff came back into the dining room. Taking a deep breath, Melissa slumped down in her chair.

“Child, you’re
not
going back to France?” he asked.

“No, Dad, I’m not. And definitely not taking up with Pierre again!”

“You might have told Dad that,” John interjected. “I was afraid he was going to have a heart attack when Pierre walked in today.”

Griff didn’t respond. He headed straight to his daughter, bent down and wrapped his arms around her.

“I’m so glad you got rid of that man,” he said. “And I’m glad you’re not going back to Europe.”

After hugging her father, Melissa said, “Will you be glad to hear I’m staying here in Rawhide? Remember, it will cost you the price of Caroline’s house.” She gave him a wide smile.

“Baby girl, I don’t care about the money. Your mother and I will be so happy to have you living nearby!” He sat down at the table. “I believe I’d like another piece of Red’s cake to celebrate.”

Ignoring him, Camille asked her daughter, “But, dear, can you make your jewelry here? I would hate for you to give up your career.”

“Yes, Mom. Caro had a great idea—for me to build a workshop on land near the house and add two apartments upstairs for the people who work for me.”

“That’s super, Melissa!” John beamed at her. “That way you can be a jeweler
and
a cowgirl.”

Melissa smiled at her brother. “I don’t think I’ll be much of a cowgirl, but I’ll be able to come out and ride every once in a while.”

“Anytime you want, little sister,” he said with a grin. Then he asked the one question she didn’t have an answer for. “What’s going on between you and Harry?”

“I don’t know.”

“I think you should marry him!” Griff said, a smile on his face.

“Even if he doesn’t love me, Dad?”

“What’s wrong with you, girl? He’s been kissing you all over town!”

“That might’ve been partly my fault.” She didn’t want to look up and face her father, but she finally did. And he was staring at her as if she was crazy.

“Griff,” her mother said, “I think she’s worried that Harry is interested in her because she’s a Randall.”

“So he should be! Anyone’s lucky to land a Randall. But Harry is as honest as they come. He wouldn’t lie about loving you, honey.” Griff said.

Everyone sat silent for a long moment.

Finally, Griff got up and cut his own piece of cake. Then he sat down and ate a forkful. “So what are you going to do about Harry, Melissa? Have you told him you’re staying in town?”

“No.”

“Are you going to stay even if he isn’t interested?” Camille asked, her hands pressed together.

“Yes, Mom, I’m staying. I’ll have to travel, especially to get started, but I’ll be living here. I’m home.”

“I’m so glad Melissa. I think when you tell Harry that, everything will work out.”

“Yes, but it’s a little awkward to say, ‘Hi, Harry, I’m staying. Did you mean it when you kissed me?’ Because he hasn’t said he loves me. And I won’t settle for less.”

John joined his father in a second dessert. Through a full mouth he said, “Josh told me Harry was attracted to you before he knew you were a Randall.”

Melissa gave her brother a skeptical look. “How would Josh know that?”

“Remember when Harry was looking for a dance partner for you, at the steak house that night? He told Josh there was this knockout who needed a partner.”

“I know exactly how you can approach him without any awkwardness,” Camille said.

Melissa turned to stare at her mother. “How?”

She pointed to the chocolate cake in the middle of the table. “Harry asked me to save him a piece of cake so he could get Pierre out of here. It would be thoughtful of you to take it to him. I’ll cover it in plastic wrap.” She stood up from the table to do just that.

“Maybe I should wait until tomorrow,” Melissa said apprehensively.

“No,” Griff declared. “We’re all sitting here worrying about it. I think you should go now.”

Melissa rolled her eyes. “I should settle my love life so
you
won’t worry? That’s a little strange, Dad.”

“No,” he said, using his fork to make the point, “it’s so you won’t lose your nerve.”

Once again her father was right.

Melissa slowly climbed the stairs, carrying the large piece of cake her mother had cut for Harry. She thought about checking downstairs for him, but decided not to. She’d rather face him alone, so she was going to take the chance that he was at home.

She knocked on his apartment door and stood there waiting, relieved when she heard footsteps.

Harry swung open the door, surprise on his face when he saw her. “Melissa! Is everything all right?”

“Yes, thanks to your ushering Pierre out of the house so quickly. I came to say thank you and to offer you the chocolate cake you sacrificed.”

“That piece looks big enough to share. How ’bout it?”

Melissa looked at the cake. She hadn’t realized her mother had cut a piece big enough for two. Obviously, her mom was way ahead of her in planning romantic encounters. “I’d love some,” she told Harry.

“Come on in.”

Melissa didn’t hesitate, until she saw Harry peer down the stairs. “What are you looking for?”

“Your dad. Shouldn’t he be showing up about now?”

She chuckled, which helped her relax. “Don’t worry. Mom’s got him under control.”

“That’s good news. I was glad to hear you say you weren’t going back to France, by the way,” he stated as he shut the door. “Where will you be setting up your jewelry company?”

Melissa waited to answer until she was settled on the sofa. “I’m thinking about somewhere locally.”

“Really? Would there be much of a market around here?”

“Oh, I didn’t mean I’d sell only locally. I’d make the jewelry here, but sell it other places. I’m thinking Neiman Marcus might be a good company to offer it. They have a number of stores now, even in Denver.”

Harry stared at her, surprise on his face. “You’re—you’re really going to make your jewelry here?”

“Why not?”

“Did your father talk you into this?” he asked, suddenly scowling at her.

“No. It was my decision.”

“But why?”

“I just hadn’t thought of moving home. But when I saw Caroline’s house, I knew I wanted it. She suggested I could build a workshop on the land across the street and add a couple of apartments on top. Then I could bring some workers here and have a place for them to live.”

“Does she own that land?”

“No, but she thinks I can buy it. I’ll have to find out that information on Monday.”

Harry didn’t say anything.

Melissa took a deep breath. “Are you unhappy that I’m staying in town?”

That question seemed to stun him. After a moment, he said, “Absolutely not. I just want it to be your decision.”

“It is.” To break the awkward silence that ensued, she asked, “Are you going to share the cake?”

Since he was still clutching the plate, she hoped that would break the tension.

“Oh! Yeah, sure. I’ll—I’ll cut it in half.” He walked over to the kitchen part of the big room. “So you won’t be going back to France?”

“I’ll have to go pack up my things and talk to Monsieur Jalbert. He won’t be happy, but my contract expires at the end of the year, so he has no hold on me.”

“And you won’t miss…uh, your friends and—and the museums?”

“I’m not saying I won’t ever return to France, Harry. I might need to revisit the museums for inspiration. But not that often. And I can invite my friends to come see me.” When he turned to stare at her, she immediately said, “Not Pierre.”

He went back to cutting the cake. Then he brought over the two plates and forks.

“Can you believe Red has given up his secret cake recipe?” Melissa murmured.

“No, I was surprised. Why did he do that?”

“I asked Mom that question. I was afraid he had some terrible disease and didn’t have long to live. But she said he just realized he was getting on up there and didn’t want the recipe to die with him. Mildred gave us her cinnamon bun recipe, too.”

“Did they give them just to you and Camille?”

“Oh, no, they gave them to all the second generation moms, and said they could share them with their daughters when they married. But I’m the last one not married, so Mom shared them with me anyway.”

“Those recipes can be a real temptation to men after they taste them.”

Melissa peeped at him from under her thick lashes. “Do they tempt you?”

He cleared his throat. “Uh, yeah, but I’m easy.”

“What do you mean?”

“I think I need some water,” Harry said, standing. “Do you want some?”

“No, but I’d like to know what you meant.”

He ignored her words and crossed over to the sink. After pouring a glass of water, he stood there, holding on to the counter as if it were a lifeline. Finally, he said, “Honey, I’ve been tempted ever since I saw you. I don’t need any ‘pastries’ as Pierre called them, to be tempted by you.”

Melissa put down her piece of cake and followed him to the sink. But she wasn’t looking for water. She
stopped in front of him. “Then why aren’t you doing anything about it?”

He moved away. “Because I’m pretty sure if I touched you, I’d lose control. And it looks like your dad isn’t going to rescue you today.”

Her eyes lit up at his words. She’d hoped he’d still wanted her, but she hadn’t been sure. “I don’t want to be rescued today.”

Harry broke eye contact and took in a deep audible breath, then let it out with a sigh. “I think we’d better finish the cake.”

“That might be dangerous.”

His brows furrowed in puzzlement. “What do you mean?”

“I’ve heard that Red’s cake is quite an aphrodisiac,” Melissa said in a husky voice.

Harry, who had been walking back to the sofa, stopped in his tracks. “Um, I see. I—I think I’ll keep my piece for later.”

“Really?” she said, pursing her lips in a pout, as she’d done when she’d first spoken to him in the steak house.

“Don’t do that!”

“What?” she asked, her eyes rounding in mock innocence.

“That thing with your lips.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m going to lose control!”

“Why don’t you?”

“Because you would regret it. I’m not…good enough for a Randall.”

Putting her hands on her hips, she stared at him. “Then why were you kissing me all over town?”

“Because you were leaving. There was no danger that—that I’d lose my heart and risk getting it broken.” He stood with his head down, like a horse that had been ridden to the point of exhaustion.

Melissa stepped closer to him. “What if I lost my heart, too?”

He stared at her. “Don’t play tricks on me, Melissa. If sex is all you want, I know some guys who would oblige you. But—but I can’t…”

“Can’t what?”

“I can’t make love to you and let you go. I’d expect more than a one-night stand. I’d expect something to last a lifetime. And that’s the only way I’m going to have sex with you!” His hands were on his hips as he faced her with his ultimatum.

With a saucy smile on her lips, she said, “Okay.”

“Okay what?”

“A lifetime seems long enough to me.”

“Melissa, I—”

Before he could say anything else, she flew into his arms, eager to erase the pain in his eyes. “Harry, do I have to beg you to love me? Because I will. I want a lifetime with you and no one else.”

He wrapped his arms around her and tasted those pouty lips he adored. After a moment, he said, “Are you
sure? I’m only a deputy sheriff. I don’t make that much money and—”

“I’m not marrying you for your money, Harry.”

“But people will think I’m marrying you for yours! That might be hard to take.”

She crossed her hands at the back of his neck and stepped even closer until there was nothing between them, not even air. “How about we marry just because we love each other? Mike and Caroline are making it work.”

“Yeah, but Mike makes more than me.”

Melissa gave him a crooked smile. “So you think it’s Mike’s money that’s paying for that house?”

“The new one? Well, I assumed— You don’t think he is?”

“No. Even for Rawhide, that’s an expensive place. But it’s what they need to take good care of their children. And that’s what matters. No one says anything about them, do they?”

“No, because everyone can see that Mike’s crazy about Caro. And vice versa.”

Melissa brought her lips within a hairs breadth of his. “I’m crazy about you, Harry Gowan. Are you crazy about me?”

“Of course I am, but—”

“I’ve never had to work this hard in my life to get a man to kiss me!” she exclaimed with a sigh.

“I did kiss you!”

“Well can you kiss me again? It’s been so long, I forgot what it feels like.” Actually, that couldn’t be
further from the truth. Melissa remembered every one of Harry’s kisses—out on the sidewalk, in his apartment. She could never forget them.

He tightened his hold on her and, his chocolate eyes never leaving hers, brought his lips down slowly, millimeter by millimeter. By the time they touched hers, Melissa was about to melt in a pool at his feet.

At first the kiss was soft and tender, then, with little urging, he deepened it, his tongue darting out to dance with hers. She moaned into his mouth, all the pent-up longing escaping in one heartfelt whoosh.

“Oh, Harry,” she rasped when he broke away, “you are a wonderful kisser.”

He grinned at her, and she noticed a dimple in his right cheek she’d never seen before. She suspected that for the rest of her days she’d be discovering new things about this man, and she looked forward to every one.

“You’re not bad yourself,” he teased.

She pretended annoyance. “Not bad? I rate you a ten, and you give me…what? A five?” But she couldn’t hold back her smile. “Come here, deputy. Let’s try it again.”

“Damn, woman, you’re tempting me!”

She pulled his head down. “I’m trying my best. Is it working?”

“Oh, yeah.” With one swift motion, he swept her off her feet and into his arms, then strode away, carrying her to his bedroom.

Melissa had to admit she liked a man of action. She wrapped her arms around him and settled her head in
the crook of his neck. She could hardly believe this was about to happen, when yesterday she’d almost given up all hope. She smiled against his woodsy-smelling skin. “I thought it would take more than kisses to convince you, Harry.”

“I’m convinced, sweetheart. I’ve been convinced ever since the first night I saw you, sitting by yourself in the bar.” Not breaking stride, he met her eyes. “I love you, Melissa. For a lifetime, forever. Do you love me?”

Her heart was pounding so hard, she reasoned it was good that she was in his arms; her legs wouldn’t hold her at the moment. Other men had said those three little words to her, but none had had the effect that he did. “Oh, yes, Harry, I do love you. I thought I was just playing a game, but I soon found out I needed your kisses to survive.”

“Well, I definitely want you to survive, so here.” He kissed her then, never breaking contact as he put her down at the foot of his bed.

Melissa soon realized she needed more than Harry’s kisses; she needed all of him.

As their kisses grew more heated, she reached out to his shirt, undoing one button at a time and allowing her hot breath to trail down over his exposed skin. She could feel the heavy pounding of his heart, matching her own.

Harry grabbed her hands before they could reach the bottom button, tucked into his slacks. “My turn,” he whispered. And he proceeded to do the same to her.

When he exposed the top swells of her breasts, he lingered there a moment, cupping them in his big, sure hands. Those hands were about to slip the blouse from her shoulders when suddenly they came to an abrupt halt.

“What is it, Harry? Is something wrong?”

His eyes looked nearly tortured when he finally raised them to hers. Even in the dim room she could see the emotion on his face. “I want to make love to you—”

“I want it, too.” She reached out to him.

He sidestepped, running a hand through his thick hair. “But I keep picturing your father, imagining him barging through my door, coming to claim you.” He shook his head. “I just keep thinking that, even though you say he was matchmaking, he sure has worked hard to keep us apart.” Harry looked at her again. “What if he doesn’t want you to marry me?”

She heard the anguish in his voice, the uncertainty. But she knew there was no need for it. “So there’s the phone,” she said, pointing to it on his bedside table. “Call him and find out.”

Harry looked incredulous. “You want me to ask your father if it’s okay to make love to you? Melissa, he’ll come after me with a shotgun!”

She couldn’t help but laugh, in spite of his seriousness. “Not if you tell him you’re going to marry me.”

He took a moment to debate. Then he nodded. “I guess so.” Walking to the phone, he stopped and turned around to look at her. “And you’re sure?”

“Oh, yes!”

He dialed the number at the ranch, and over the phone, Melissa heard her father’s deep voice answer.

“Griff, I, uh…sorry to bother you, but there was something I needed to tell you.” Harry wasted no time changing that last part. “Ask you.” Taking a deep breath, he said in a rush, “I’d like your permission to marry Melissa. I hope you and Camille will approve.”

Just hearing those words made Melissa warm inside. She stepped next to him, flinging her arms around him and hugging him to her.

There were raised voices on the other end of the line, then she finally heard her father say clearly, “That’s perfect, Son. When’s the date?”

Harry covered the mouthpiece with his hand and looked down at her. Relief found a home on his face. “Your dad wants to know the date.”

“I hadn’t even thought of that.” Frantically she went through the calendar in her mind. “I—I have to go back to Paris…I’d really like for you to come with me. That could be our honeymoon.”

“So should I tell him we’ll marry after Christmas?” Harry looked eager to get off the phone now.

“Or we could go between Thanksgiving and Christmas. How about that?” she asked him.

He leaned down for a quick kiss. “I’d like that better. I don’t think I’m going to be able to keep my hands off you in public for too long.”

She smiled at him. “Me, neither. We can make the
announcement at Thanksgiving dinner, assuming everyone doesn’t know by then.”