My Christmas Cowboy. Shelley Galloway
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like that, her eyes filled with tears. Trent’s dad had known exactly the right words to say.
After pressing a kiss to her brow, he stepped away and glared at Trent one more time. “You and me will talk later.”
When they were alone, Trent practically collapsed on the couch. “Great job, Jolene. Couldn’t you have waited to involve my dad until I had at least two minutes to process the news?”
“This isn’t my fault. You were there, too.”
“Oh, I know.” He ran a hand over his cheeks. “From what I recall, anyway.” As the minutes ticked by, he rested his elbows on his knees and hung his head. “What do you want? Money?”
No way did she want to go lower in his estimation and be the trashy girl who was seeking him out only for money. She might not be the next June Cleaver, but she sure as hell wasn’t that girl, either.
“I’m not sure.”
“Come on, darlin’. You had to have had something in mind when you called me up and drove over here. I mean, good job. You got what you wanted, huh?”
Chin up, she stared right back at him. Oh, she hated that vaguely condescending, holier-than-thou tone of voice. No, she hadn’t been a virgin when they’d gone at it all night long. But dammit, he hadn’t been, either. Sometimes the double standards were enough to drive her nuts.
His eyes narrowed as the baby made a cute little cooing noise.
And because the only thing Jolene had ever had going for her was too much sass, she smiled. “I didn’t plan on having a baby. But I did. And I don’t regret it. Amanda Rose is the best thing I’ve ever done in my life and I’m proud of her. I’m her momma and I’m always going to be here for her. Always.”
The look he gave her felt like a slap in the face. It was filled with sadness. With a touch of regret. With a sense that for a split second, he’d expected more from the girl who used to follow him around in kindergarten, and she’d disappointed him again.
A lump formed in her throat. She lifted her chin and struggled to swallow.
Then, as soon as she was able, she spoke. “Like I said before, I’ve just been trying to tell you about Amanda. Are you finally ready to listen?”
Chapter Five
Trent didn’t want to be alone with Jolene. And he had made it his number one goal to stay away from moms. Single mothers sought stability—and he was not up for anything remotely resembling that. He made a living on the back of a bull, after all.
And, well, no offense to Jolene, but one day—in the distant future—when he was ready for a relationship, he’d settle down with someone who had class. Someone people respected.
Someone nice.
Trent thought about that some more. What he wanted was a nice girl. Yeah. That’s right. What he was going to want was a lady.
Not a woman half the men in the town knew too well.
Knowing he was in that group of know-it-alls didn’t help his peace of mind none, either.
Jolene’s past—and his part in it—did mean he needed to treat her with respect. His dad would expect that much. So would his conscience. Looking at her closer, seeing the longing in her eyes, brought him back to their past. Back to when he’d first realized that he had so much and she had so little.
“Jo, if it’s money you need …”
“I don’t want a handout.”
He bit his lip, steeling his resolve. He felt bad for her situation, and also a little irritated with her, too, for putting him in this position. He wanted to help her, but he also wanted some time to process what she’d just sprung on him. He wanted to take her to the door and tell her that he’d see her later. But the last thing he wanted to do was hurt her feelings.
Fact was, she made him nervous. All of a sudden, he couldn’t help but recall just how well those lips had fit on his. Just how well they’d parted for him. How sweet she’d tasted.
How, for just a second, he’d felt tender toward her.
But he’d been drunk.
Since he was sober now, he needed to remember that Jolene was in his past. She was a nice woman, but she was never going to be much more than a gal on the trashy side.
Their paths really didn’t need to cross again. Ever.
At least, that’s what he’d planned on. He was a man who liked things being exactly what they seemed. These new developments with Jolene? Well, they were making him crazy, and that was a fact.
She was still standing there in that snug red sweater, looking like a cornered hen just hours before a Sunday dinner. When their eyes met, her chin went up. “Don’t you have anything to say, Trent?”
By now he’d forgotten what they were even talking about. Desperately, he tried to smooth her ruffled feathers. “Jolene, don’t get all emotional, now.”
She adjusted that ugly purse on her shoulder and picked up the baby in the carrier. “You haven’t even seen emotional from me. Of course, I don’t know if you’d even know what honest emotion was if it bit you in the butt.”
That made him squirm. “I would. We were plenty emotional the night we got together.”
“I’m surprised you even remember. We, uh, weren’t at our best.”
“No, we weren’t.” All that whiskey had bypassed his empty stomach and gone straight to his head. But because he wasn’t proud of his behavior, and because she was acting so snippy—he struck back. “I don’t suppose it mattered all that much to you anyway, Jo. I mean, I was just one of many men rolling on your carpet, right?”
Fire flickered in her eyes. “Trent Riddell, comments like that show you don’t know anything. At all.” And before he could open his mouth to defend himself, she walked out of the room and through the front door.
He managed to get it together, and followed her outside.
A burst of wind greeted them both. The sky was dark and the vehicle she was walking to looked like it had seen better days in 1989. “Hey, Jo, let me give you a couple of hundred,” he said, pulling out his money clip.
She paused as she buckled the baby’s carrier in. “I don’t need charity.”
“It’s not a handout. Consider it payment for …” His voice drifted off. He couldn’t really think of anything to say.
“For sleeping with you?” She slammed Amanda Rose’s door, surprising a startled cry from the baby. “That would have to mean that what we did together was good, Trent. And believe me, it was hardly worth a nickel.” She drawled out her last words as she looked him up and down. “I’ve had better sex from men double your age.”
Double?
He was still trying to come up with a sharp retort when she drove out of sight.
DRIVE. INHALE. EXHALE. Brake at stop sign.
As Amanda Rose cooed and jabbered in her carrier, Jolene did her best to concentrate on what she had to do. Did her best to concentrate on getting them back to their apartment in one piece. At the moment, she didn’t know if that was going to be possible because her hands were shaking uncontrollably.
Jolene was sure there were dozens of times she’d been more embarrassed, but she sure couldn’t remember when.
Trent Riddell had looked at her as if she was no better than the burst of snow that had blown in with her when she’d arrived. Maybe “no better” wasn’t an apt description. Maybe it was fair to say he didn’t have any feelings for her. At all.
She’d been mortified. So mortified that she found herself being glad