His Valentine Bride. Cindy Kirk
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the connection: Betsy smelled like his mother’s kitchen on baking day.
A pleasant scent for a pleasant coworker. Having Betsy in the office had worked out better than he ever imagined. She was prompt, efficient and managed to somehow anticipate his every need. They were like a well-oiled machine. He hoped today’s conversation wouldn’t affect that happy balance.
The wind was brisk, but thankfully the coffee shop sat just around the corner. Before long, they were inside the warm shop with cups of frothy cappuccino before them.
“Got big plans for the Thanksgiving weekend?” he asked.
“Adrianna is having a few people over on Thursday.” Betsy took a sip of her drink. “I’m helping.”
“I bet you’re an excellent cook.”
Red crept up her neck, although his comment seemed to please her. “I could be awful.”
“You’re too competent at everything you do to be awful.”
She frowned slightly and took a sip of her drink.
Even though he’d meant it as a compliment, for some reason that’s not how she’d appeared to have taken it. Since when wasn’t “competent” a good thing?
“You’re right,” she said, finally. “I’m very good in the kitchen. In fact, my pumpkin strudel pie is to die for.”
“I’d like to try it sometime.”
Betsy merely smiled and took another sip of her cappuccino. “What are you doing for the holiday?”
“My plans are up in the air.” In fact he’d deliberately turned down Cole and Meg’s invitation as well as a Thanksgiving invite from Travis and Mary Karen Fisher. All because he wanted to be available should this conversation go the way he’d hoped. “Betsy, there’s something I need to tell you.”
Her dusty blue eyes met his. For a second, all he could think of was how pretty she looked in her pink fluffy sweater. And how her lips looked like plump ripe strawberries. Ryan shook his head to clear the thoughts.
“You’re scaring me.” Two lines of worry furrowed her brow. “Is it something with my work? If I’m doing anything wrong, just tell me and I’ll correct it.”
“It’s nothing work-related.” He offered her a reassuring smile. “You’re doing an awesome job. In fact, I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
She expelled a breath. “Good.”
“This is something personal.”
Her fingers stilled on the large cup sitting in front of her. “Really?”
While Betsy hadn’t given him permission to stray into the personal realm, she hadn’t shut the door either. Ryan decided to plunge through the slight opening he’d been given. “I’ve never had any trouble getting dates. Or talking to women. But when the woman is special to you and she doesn’t know she is, finding the right words can be hard.”
Betsy simply stared.
“Do you know what it’s like to want someone but not be sure if they want you?”
Her eyes never left his face. She nodded slowly.
“To wonder if they only think of you as a friend or if their feelings run as deep as yours but they’re afraid to say anything for fear of looking foolish?”
“I—” Betsy cleared her throat before continuing “—I can relate.”
“Can you?” Ryan reached forward and took her hands. “It’s difficult having such intense feelings but having to keep them hidden.”
“A person shouldn’t keep feelings like that under wraps.” Her voice shook with emotion. “You should always say what you feel.”
“Even if I’m not sure the other person feels the same way?”
“How do you know unless you ask?” Two bright spots of pink dotted her cheeks.
Ryan wondered if she’d guessed his secret. “You’re right,” he said. “I’m going to just blurt it out.”
He realized with a start that he was still clutching Betsy’s hands as if he were a drowning sailor and they were a life raft. But when he started to pull away, she tightened her hold.
“Tell me, Ryan,” she urged. “Tell me what you’re feeling.”
He took a deep breath. “I’m in love with Adrianna Lee, but I’m not sure how she feels about me.”
A shutter fell across Betsy’s eyes. Even when she blinked the shutters remained firmly closed, hiding her thoughts, her reaction from his view. She released his hands and sat back, which he took to be a very bad sign.
“You and Adrianna?” Betsy stumbled over the name. “I thought that you, that we—”
She clamped her mouth shut.
Ryan tilted his head. “Did you think I was talking about you and me?”
Was that pity in his eyes?
Betsy’s heart fluttered like a thousand tiny hummingbirds in her chest. Dear God, this was her worst nightmare come to life. Somehow she had to find a way to salvage this situation. And while she was doing that, save her pride.
“You and me?” She somehow managed a respectable-sounding laugh. “Pssh. We’re just friends.”
By the look in his eyes, Betsy knew she hadn’t quite allayed his suspicions. How uncomfortable would it be for them to work in the same office day after day if he thought she was pining over him? She had to make him think there was someone else. But who? They knew most of the same people.
“Actually, as long as we’re sharing confessions, I have my own secret crush. That’s why I could so easily relate to what you were saying.”
The muscles in his shoulders relaxed and the suspicion that had colored his gaze all but disappeared. “Who is he?”
If she refused to tell him, he’d think she was lying. But she couldn’t pick anyone currently living in Jackson Hole. That would be way too uncomfortable. And she wouldn’t put it past Ryan to spill the beans.
Think, she told herself, think of a name.
“Tripp Randall.”
“The Tripp Randall who used to live here?”
“He lives back East now.” Betsy relaxed against the chair, feeling comfortable enough to take a sip of her now-lukewarm drink. “He was married, but—”
“His wife died.”
At first Betsy was surprised. How did he know that Tripp’s wife had passed away? Then she reminded herself that this was Jackson Hole. It was hard to keep any kind of secret in this town.
“Even though he’s now single, I don’t think there’s any chance of our getting together,” Betsy said. “I mean, he’s in Connecticut and I’m here.”
“Not for much longer.”
“What do you mean? I don’t have any plans to move.”
“You haven’t heard?”
“Heard what?”
“I just got a call from him this morning,” Ryan said. “Tripp is moving back to Jackson Hole.”
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