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might hear you.”
The following weekend, the two women spent the morning checking out the current exhibit at the National Museum of Wildlife Art, then stayed to grab some lunch at the Red Sage Café, located inside the building.
Adrianna glanced around the empty café. “There’s no one here. Everyone is out Christmas shopping or skiing.”
“I don’t feel comfortable discussing my personal life in such a public venue.” Betsy kept her voice low.
Although Jackson Hole held almost twenty thousand people, it was also a close-knit community. The last thing she wanted to do was to get some gossip going about her and Ryan.
“Okay, how about if I speak in a whisper?” Adrianna grinned, her voice as loud as before. “Then will you tell me your secrets?”
“There’s nothing to tell,” Betsy said. “We’re only friends.”
Adrianna took a bite of her tuna pita. “You really expect me to believe that? I saw the way he looked at you last Friday at Wally’s.”
“And I’ve seen the way he looks at you.” Betsy took a sip of her iced tea, hoping Adrianna would drop this line of questioning but knowing she wouldn’t.
Adrianna waved away the comment. She chewed thoughtfully. “Perhaps he doesn’t want to push you.”
Or maybe he’s in love with you.
The thought rose unbidden from the deepest recesses of Betsy’s subconscious. Ryan had made it clear he liked being with her, yet he had originally enlisted her to help him win over Adrianna. He’d also told Tripp that it was Adrianna he wanted.
Was spending time with her part of a plan to make Adrianna jealous? Or had he simply decided to settle for second best?
Betsy sighed. “Ryan and I are friends, Anna. I’ve told you that many times.”
“Still not believing it.”
That’s because so far Betsy knew she hadn’t been all that convincing. “I think Tripp is going to ask me out.”
Adrianna’s eyes widened and she straightened in her seat. “Are you going to go?”
“Of course,” Betsy said with what she hoped was a convincing smile. “Why wouldn’t I?”
* * *
Betsy picked up her purse, ready to head out the door when Ryan called to her from his office. She sighed and set down her bag on her desk, hoping this wouldn’t be another invitation to stay late.
All week Ryan had been consumed by a case scheduled for court next week. Every night he’d asked her to work late. The first time it had happened she’d thought he had something more personal in mind. But when he’d pulled out his case notes and started to talk, her hopes of a more intimate evening sank like a lead balloon. It had been the same story every night since.
By the time they finished it was usually close to ten and she’d gone home exhausted. Too tired to even trim her Christmas tree. It still sat in her living room, in water, begging for decorations. She’d thought about asking Ryan if he wanted to come over this weekend to help, but decided against it.
She’d started to wonder if the connection she’d felt between them had been all in her head. That’s why when Tripp had called, told her he’d gotten the job and offered to take her out to dinner to celebrate, she’d said yes.
“You need something?” Betsy asked, stopping in the doorway to Ryan’s adjoining office.
He looked up and she saw the lines of fatigue around his eyes. Putting down his mouse, he sat back in the leather-and-cowhide desk chair. “We’ve both put in a lot of hours this week. I’d like to take you out for dinner as a token of my appreciation.”
A token of his appreciation. The sentiment was sweet, but it hit Betsy wrong. Like he felt forced to take her out.
“Thanks for the kind offer,” she said in as pleasant of a tone as she could muster through gritted teeth, “but I already have plans for dinner.”
“Oh, are you and Adrianna getting together?”
Now he was really starting to get on her nerves. Granted, some of her less-than-good mood was probably because she was tired, but did he really think she didn’t have any other options than dinner with a girlfriend?
“Actually, no. Tripp is taking me out to dinner.”
Ryan pushed back his chair and stood. His brows pulled together. “Tripp Randall asked you out?”
Anger shot up Ryan’s spine. After that night at Wally’s Place, he’d told Tripp he was interested in Betsy and to back off. Of course, come to think of it, Tripp hadn’t agreed. His friend had just laughed and asked if Betsy was Ryan’s flavor of the day.
When he’d asked Tripp what he meant by that crack, Tripp had said they both knew his infatuation with Betsy wouldn’t last. After all, barely two weeks ago he’d told Tripp he was sure Adrianna was “the one.”
It pissed Ryan off to know that Tripp was right about him, or rather former Ryan. Even though he knew his friend hadn’t meant to hit a nerve, he had. For a few seconds all Ryan could think was he sounded a whole lot like his uncle Jed.
Uncle Jed had three ex-wives and a girlfriend young enough to be his daughter. That wasn’t the kind of life Ryan wanted for himself.
Regardless of what Tripp implied, Betsy was different from the others, and he could see them having a future.
But you thought Adrianna was different, too, a little voice whispered in his head. He immediately silenced it and focused on the conversation at hand.
“Is there anything else?” Betsy asked.
She hadn’t really answered his question, but from the look on her face, it wouldn’t be safe to ask again. But he’d be damned if he’d let Tripp monopolize her weekend.
“Joel called and asked if we wanted to come out for some fun in the snow at their place tomorrow.”
“You mean he called and invited you.”
“Yes, but he specifically mentioned wanting you to come.” Ryan had planned on talking to her about those plans over dinner tonight. But that wasn’t happening.
Because she was having dinner with Tripp.
Ryan took a deep breath and forced a smile. “It should be fun. Afterward I thought we might decorate your tree, if you haven’t already decorated it, that is.”
“When would I have time to trim the tree?” Her expression softened. “My boss is a real slave driver and I spend all my time at work.”
Hope rose in his chest. “So you’ll do it?”
“Sure,” she said. “Sounds like fun.”
“I can pick you—”
“Call me tomorrow,” she said before he could finish. “I’ve got to run.”
“Okay,” he said. “I’ll call you in the morning.”
“Not too early,” she said as she headed toward the front door. “I may be out late.”
By the time Ryan called her the next morning at ten and told her they were expected for lunch at noon, Betsy had to scramble to get ready.
She’d had fun with Tripp. He’d taken her to the Spring Gulch Country Club for a night of dinner and dancing. When he’d told her to dress up, she thought he’d been kidding. But just in case, she’d pulled on a little black dress she’d bought last year on clearance.
When he’d shown up wearing a