Her Montana Christmas Groom. Teresa Southwick
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“I’ll make it up to you.”
“Good, because you owe me big time. Laila and I were just about to have a—romantic moment.”
That’s what she’d been afraid of. His hair was uncombed and looked as if Laila had been running her fingers through it. Beneath his sheepskin-lined jacket his shirttail was hanging out, as if he’d dressed in a hurry and didn’t take the time to tuck it in. There wasn’t much she could say, but she had to try.
“I’m so sorry. I feel terrible about that, but I was desperate.”
“That’s what you get for going out with someone from work.”
“How else am I supposed to meet men?” she asked.
Jackson’s only response was an angry look. In the silence that followed, she realized he was driving in the opposite direction from where her apartment was located.
“Where are we going?”
“You’ll see.”
A few minutes later her brother pulled up in front of The Hitching Post and turned off the car. “I didn’t make up the part about urgent family business.”
Rose narrowed her gaze on him. “What’s going on?”
“Come with me.”
“Do I have a choice?”
“No.” He came around the car and met her on the sidewalk. The streetlight illuminated his features and there was a very real possibility that the glare on his face was permanent. Without another word, she followed him into The Hitching Post.
Unlike Lipsmackin’ Ribs on Tuesday night, this place was quiet. Divided by a half wall, there was a restaurant on one side and a bar on the other. Rose was pretty sure they were going to the other.
Her suspicion was confirmed when she saw her brothers Dillon, Ethan and Corey at a table with the best view of the painting behind the old west-style bar. In the picture, a scantily clad and scandalous Lily Divine stared down at the men with a “come hither” challenge in her eyes.
“Bet she didn’t have any trouble getting a man,” Rose grumbled.
And that’s when she saw Austin Anderson on the restaurant side sitting at a table with his sister Angie. Family night at The Hitching Post, just her luck. They saw her and waved and she lifted a hand in response. For a second she thought about breaking rank and joining them because it was clear Jackson had mobilized Traub reinforcements for some reason.
All her brothers were there except Jason who was still in Midland, Texas. Whatever the four in Thunder Canyon had to say was probably not something she wanted to hear. And she really would rather Austin didn’t have a front row seat. He’d already seen her get carded and a stern talking to by the Traub tribe was not another humiliation she wanted him to witness.
“You know, Jackson, I think I’m going to skip this family reunion,” she said.
“If you take one step toward that door, I will put you over my shoulder.” It didn’t seem possible that his fierce look could intensify, but the angry stare got angrier and stopped her cold.
“Okay, let’s get this over with.”
“My sentiments exactly. Laila’s waiting.”
Rose moved around him and with head held high, walked to the table where her brothers waited. All of them were at least six feet tall, broad-shouldered and dark-haired. She’d told Austin they were the best-looking men at the wedding, but right this minute she would take back those words and substitute annoying.
She took the last open seat at the table for four. The three of them had beers and there was a fourth that Jackson picked up. Nothing for her.
Dillon, the oldest, rested his forearms on the table. “Jackson called me after you sounded the alarm, Rose. I decided a family meeting was in order.”
“Why?” This wasn’t unprecedented, but it didn’t happen very often.
“Consider this an intervention,” he said, a very doctor-like thing to say. Because he was a doctor, the word choice made perfect sense.
The meaning? Not so much. “What for? I don’t smoke, do drugs or drink too much.”
“You’re addicted to dating,” Corey said.
“You’re not serious,” she scoffed.
“Yeah, we are.” Jackson pulled over a chair from the adjacent table. “You date too much.”
“Define too much.” Her chin lifted a notch.
“So many men, so little time.” Dillon took a pull on his beer. “Off the top of my head there’s Nick, Dean and Cade Pritchett.”
“Okay, so—”
“John Kelly,” Corey added. “The mortgage banker.”
“Yeah.” Rose struggled to put a face with the name. “He was very banker-ish.”
“You don’t remember him, do you?” Ethan looked thoughtful. “Zach Evans. He’s a rancher.”
“Rob Lewis, chamber of commerce president.” Corey turned his beer bottle.
They continued to add names to a list that became pretty impressive. She was amazed that her macho brothers had paid so much attention to her love life. Or, to put a finer point on it, her lack of love life.
“They don’t even know about Harvey French.” Jackson’s eyes narrowed.
“Then I’ll tell them,” she said. “He’s a lawyer and asked me out because he wants to get Traub Oil Montana’s legal business. And possibly the Texas stuff, too.”
“Jerk,” Ethan muttered.
“My sentiments exactly. That’s why I called Jackson,” she defended. “So if we’re done here—”
“Not so fast,” they all said.
Ethan nailed her with a look. “You’ve got to stop, Rosie. Take a break.”
“I can’t do that.” She folded her arms over her chest and looked at each of them defiantly.
“Yeah, you can. Get your head on straight,” Corey suggested. “Decide what you’re looking for. Separate the wheat from the chaff.”
“What does that even mean?”
If this was a job, they’d be telling her to work it, put in the hours, make herself indispensable. This was even more important. It was her life, her happiness. Why should finding love require any less dedication than her career?
Jackson leaned forward, rested his elbows on his knees. “Some soul searching couldn’t hurt, Rose. You need to figure out why no guy is generating sparks.”
That wasn’t completely true, she thought. There were enough sparks with Austin to start a fairly frightening forest fire. She glanced over at him and saw he was looking at her. The expression in his eyes set off a fireball in her belly, proving her point. She grabbed Ethan’s beer and took a drink to put out the blaze. This thing with Austin was nothing. It couldn’t be.
“Jackson’s right,” Corey agreed. “Time-out.”
“Since when are you guys the dating police?”
“Since always.” Dillon met her gaze. “It’s what big brothers do.”
They were also men and didn’t get it.
“I’m a grown woman. You can’t ground me,” she protested. “Don’t think I don’t appreciate all you do, but—”
“No excuses. Cold turkey.” Jackson took a sip from his bottle. “I bet you can’t go a month without a date.”
That touched a