My Favorite Mistake (10 page)

side door for me and before I knew what was happening, he’d put his hands on my waist to lift me onto the tan leather seat. I gasped and instinctively put my hands on his shoulders. Our bodies connected like a plug and socket—instant voltage. My gaze locked with his; my breath frozen in my chest.

Redford seemed to be having trouble breathing as wel , attested by the long, uneven white puffs in the frigid air of the cab. His hands tightened around my waist as he settled me into the seat. The leather must have been cold, but I couldn’t feel anything except the warmth radiating from his body. My knees hit him chest level, my coat and skirt rucked up past my knees several inches to expose my thighs. I had a vision of another time when Redford had set me on a table for the purpose of devouring me. From the slightly hooded look in his eyes, I wondered if he were remembering, too.

I gulped air and gave a little cough, releasing his shoulders and squirming against his hands. He let go of my waist and stepped back, but gave my legs a lingering glance

before closing the door. I exhaled noisily and counted to five. Considering our history, it was natural for us to experience a little awkward attraction…wasn’t it? But we were adults…we could deal with it.

By the time I’d righted my clothing, he had tossed his duffel bag into the back seat of the cab and climbed into the driver’s seat, where he began making adjustments to

accommodate his long legs. If our brush with flirtation had affected him, he had dismissed it easily enough.

“I hope you don’t mind navigating,” he said, placing his hat on the seat between us. “It might take me a few hours to get my bearings.”

“I don’t mind,” I said, stil shaken.

“So, what do you think about my truck?”

“It’s…red.”

“Red is the color of DeMoss Stables.”

I nodded. “Ah. And it’s…big. I’ve never seen a pickup with a back seat.”

“It’s cal ed a quad-cab.”

“Oh.”

His brows knitted. “You don’t like it?”

I laughed and gestured vaguely at the dashboard that looked big enough to belong to an aircraft. “Redford, it’s your truck. But you barely glanced at it before you bought it. Do you always make such rash decisions?”

His jaw tensed and, too late, I realized that in light of our past, my question seemed at once unnecessary
and
judgmental.

“Apparently so,” he said quietly, then turned the key in the ignition, bringing the engine to life. He turned his dark eyes in my direction. “But then I usual y know what I want when I see it.”

The moisture evaporated from my mouth. I couldn’t seem to drag my gaze from his. I was mired in confusion, tongue-tied. Was he referring to me? To our marriage? Did I want

to know?

“Better buckle up,” he said breezily.

Glad to have something to keep my hands occupied, I tugged on the buckle. But the strap was stuck from never being used.

“Here, let me,” he said, and leaned across the seat, brushing past me to grab the strap, trapping me between the seat and his big body. His face was mere inches from mine,

the scent of strong, musky soap tickling my nose. I squirmed, which, to my dismay, resulted in rubbing my chest against his. My cheeks burned as if we were naked, instead of wearing heavy coats. Just having him in proximity was wreaking havoc with my self-control.

A lazy smile lifted Redford’s mouth as he pul ed the belt over my shoulder and clicked it home next to my thigh. “I wouldn’t want anything bad to happen to you on my watch.”

I gave him a watery smile of thanks and prayed that he couldn’t tel how much he was getting to me. I wasn’t in the business of feeding the ego of married men. A glance at the gold band on his left hand was enough to boost my resolve.

He turned on the heater, fastened his own seat belt, then goosed the engine a couple of times before pul ing out of the lot. “Which way?”

I looked around to get oriented, then pointed right. I waited until he had pul ed into traffic before asking, “Redford, what was that al about back there?”

“What do you mean?”

I wet my lips. “Al owing that guy to think we were…married.”

He studied the road, then made a rueful noise. “Jim and I knew each other when I returned from my leave in Las Vegas three years ago.” He shrugged. “Maybe it was wrong,

but since you were with me, it just seemed easier to pretend than to explain that you and I were no longer…together.” He looked over at me. “I’m sorry if it embarrassed you.”

Considering I hadn’t told Barry or my parents the complete truth either, I wasn’t exactly in a position to judge. “No, it’s…okay.” Antsy, I glanced at my watch.

“Am I making you late?” he asked.

“No. I told my boss I’d be taking an extended lunch,” (actual y, I had told him I was on the trail of a big account), “but I’l need to get back soon.”

“Do you stil have time to eat?”

I wasn’t the slightest bit hungry, but with some alarm I realized I wasn’t yet ready to leave Redford’s company. We had so much to discuss, yet so many things I didn’t want to talk about. The audit. His family. My engagement. I guess deep down I knew that talking about those things would put an end to the flirtation that I was enjoying on some very base level.

Plus, I realized in astonishment, it would also put an end to the impossible fantasy I had been harboring in the recesses of my mind: that someday Redford would come for me.

The thought hit me so hard, I blinked back sudden moisture. I had discovered something about myself that I didn’t want to know. What part of myself had I been withholding from friends and potential lovers since I had returned from Vegas three years ago? What part of myself had I given to Redford…and would I ever get it back?

“Earth to Denise.”

I looked over at him. “What?”

His smile was gentle. “I asked if you stil have time to eat.”

My throat constricted. “Yes, I have time to eat.”

The sooner we got things out on the table, the better.

The times we had made love on a table notwithstanding, of course.

“Good,” he said. “Afterward I’l drop you off at your office.”

“No,” I said quickly, then gave a little laugh. “That’s not necessary—my office is close to the restaurant I had in mind.” A lie, but I couldn’t risk any one seeing me being dropped off by a good-looking stranger driving a red monster truck. I wouldn’t want word getting back to Barry. My fiancé. The guy who was available and loved my mind. The guy with whom I had so much in common.

Redford winked and slanted a sexy smile in my direction. “Whatever the lady wants.”

I feigned fascination with a passing landmark to cover my traitorous internal reaction. Blast that devilish smile of his! As the interior of the truck warmed I exhaled slowly, settling into the leather seat, forcing myself to relax one muscle at a time. I wasn’t going to think about the days stretching before us—I was going to deal with Redford one hour at a time.

But it’s over a hundred hours until he leaves,
my mind whispered.

I was in big trouble.

9

“TABLE FOR TWO?”
the hostess of Rutabaga’s asked me, although she could barely take her eyes off Redford.

“Yes,” I said, slightly irked. The man was like a tranquilizer dart.

She checked a seating chart and smiled past my shoulder at Redford. “It’l be just a few moments.”

I smirked and stepped back into the knot of people who were also waiting for a table. Redford had removed his hat and was studying the dark, oaky decor, although not as

closely as he was being studied by every female in the place…me included.

To say that Redford stood out was an understatement—with his stark good looks, brawny build and Western-flavored clothing, he looked as if he’d just walked off a movie set.

My mind flashed to the movie
Crocodile Dundee,
where a bushman visits Manhattan for the first time. Like the character in the movie, Redford seemed oblivious to the attention he attracted.

“Looks like a nice place,” he offered. “Do you eat here often?”

“Sometimes,” I lied.

Actual y, I’d chosen the eatery for its proximity to Redford’s hotel, its carnivorous menu, its tucked away location and its high, dark booths…not that I expected to see anyone I knew. For as long as I’d lived in New York, I could count the times I had actual y run in to someone I knew—unless it was a regular haunt—on one hand.

“Denise! Fancy meeting you here!”

I froze, then turned to see Sam Long, Kenzie’s veterinarian husband, walking toward me holding a carryout bag. Sam taught at a clinic in the city three days a week to be close to Kenzie, who was holed up in Jar Hol ow this week with morning sickness.

I managed a smile. “Hi, Sam.”

He gave me a quick hug. “Hey, congratulations on your engagement—Kenzie’s been talking about it al week.”

I felt Redford’s gaze snap to me and I sensed him inch closer. For reasons I couldn’t fathom, I found myself wishing that Sam hadn’t said anything, although the subject was

bound to come up sooner or later. And considering the inappropriate feelings that Redford had resurrected in me, sooner was better.

“Thanks, Sam,” I murmured. “Congratulations to you on the baby.”

A grin split his face. “Amazing, huh? I’m stil trying to get used to the idea of being a father. I guess this is a big week for al of us.” He looked around. “Is Barry with you?”

“Er, no,” I squeaked.

“Traveling again? Wel , he doesn’t deserve you,” Sam said cheerful y. “But then I married up, too.”

Sam and Barry had never real y hit it off, which had concerned me a little simply because I was so close to Kenzie and wanted us al to get along. But Kenzie had assured me

that Sam was shy and didn’t normal y warm up to people right away.

Redford cleared his throat, and Sam looked back and forth between us, clearly puzzled.

I inhaled deeply. “Sam Long, meet Redford DeMoss. Sam is married to one of my best friends, Kenzie, and Redford is…an old friend.”

Realization dawned on Sam’s face. “Oh, right, Kenzie said something about your ex coming to town, some kind of tax business, right? Nice to meet you,” he said to Redford.

Redford extended his hand. “Same here.”

“You’re from Kentucky?”

“That’s right.”

“Know anything about horses?”

Redford smiled and his stance eased. “A fair bit. You?”

I watched in amazement as the two men fel into conversation like old buddies, throwing around horse terminology, each visibly excited to find a kindred spirit. Sam had specialized in equine research and lived on a farm in upstate New York where he ran a smal -town veterinary practice.

“I’m heading up to Val a Farms Sunday to check out a teaser stud,” Redford said.

“That’s only about thirty miles from my place,” Sam said. “I’d be happy to go along and look him over for you.”

“I’d be much obliged,” Redford said.

“Denise, are you riding up, too?” Sam asked. “I know Kenzie would be thril ed to see you.”

I shook my head. “I wasn’t planning to—”

“Come with me,” Redford said, his voice husky…chal enging.

I swung my gaze up to meet his and saw something had clouded his eyes—disappointment? Determination? I was thoroughly confused. And intrigued.

“Unless you have other plans,” he added mildly.

Sam gave a little laugh. “I would consider it a personal favor, Denise. Kenzie could use some company.”

Redford lifted one eyebrow in question, and I wavered. In the nearly one year since Kenzie had commuted to Jar Hol ow on the weekends, I had never visited her home there.

My excuse had always been that I didn’t have a car. But since Redford was going to be stopping there, it seemed ridiculous for me not to go. Besides, it might help to smooth things over with Kenzie.

I gave a cautious little shrug. “Okay.”

“Great,” Sam said. “I’l let Kenzie know.” He gave Redford directions, then extended his hand again. “Nice to meet you, man. I think it’s great that the two of you can put the past behind you and stil be friends.”

Redford shook Sam’s hand and nodded. “See you Sunday.”

“Your table is ready,” the nearly giddy hostess announced to Redford.

With my tongue in my cheek, I fol owed her to a booth. Redford walked just behind me, his hand hovering at my waist. He helped me out of my coat, casting a lingering glance at my engagement ring when I removed my gloves to stuff them in the pockets. Then he removed his own coat and hat and hung them on a nearby rack. I watched him, guiltily stealing a glance at the way his jeans hugged his lean hips from behind, the way the muscles in his back played beneath his shirt. The man could turn the most simple movements into sexy

athleticism.

I realized my mouth was watering, and not from the aroma of steak in the air. I pinched my thigh to derail my wayward thoughts and had conjured up a casual smile by the time

he returned to slide into the booth, sitting opposite me. A waitress showed up to take our drinks order, then left us alone in an awkward, tense silence.

“Your friend’s husband seems like a nice guy,” Redford offered.

“He is,” I agreed.

“And you’re engaged to be married.”

I blinked, then lifted my chin. “As a matter of fact, I am.”

He reached over and picked up my left hand to study the engagement ring Barry had given me. The cal used tips of his fingers brushed my sensitive palm, sending waves of

awareness shooting up my arm. It was al I could do not to pul my hand back.

He rubbed his thumb over the large stone. “Wow. Impressive.”

With some effort, I found my voice. “Thank you.”

“It looks flawless. And it’s much bigger than the one I would have given you,” he said, nodding.

His grandmother’s ring. He had promised to get it from his family safe and bring it with him on his next leave. I flushed, feeling shal ow, and pul ed my tingling hand from his.

Self-consciously, I put my left hand in my lap and fingered the hem of my napkin.

He picked up the menu. “So, how long have you been engaged?” His voice was tinged with…anger? Impossible.