Two in the Saddle. Vicki Lewis Thompson
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especially after she’d just witnessed the emotional joining of her two best friends.
“Yes, it is.” His grip tightened at her waist, sending shock waves all through her body. “We’re supposed to look as if we’re together.”
“Casually together, not plastered together.” Oh, but his hand felt good right there. She registered the imprint of each of his fingers through the soft material of her dress.
“Take it easy, sweetheart.”
“I am most definitely not your sweetheart.” And if her nerves jumped at his words, that was only because nobody had spoken an endearment to her in a while.
“Too bad for both of us. Listen, I know you hate me and this is torture for you, but we’re almost done.”
Oh, it was torture, all right. Torture of the highest order. And how she wished that hate was the emotion she was feeling for this man.
2
TRAVIS HAD ACTED on impulse, tucking Gwen against him as they proceeded up the aisle. Pure devilment had made him do it, probably, knowing how much she loathed him. Funny, though, once they were hip to hip, he felt her tremble.
He recognized that tremble. Women tended to do that when he touched them, but he wouldn’t have expected that reaction from Gwen, who’d let him know she wasn’t even slightly interested.
So when she started squawking about his behavior he held her tighter, to test her reaction to increased contact. Sure enough, that quiver got worse, and her skin flushed pink.
He noticed the color in her cheeks, and because he was a healthy male animal, he also noticed the color spread to the swell of her breasts above the green material of her dress. The way he figured it, if a woman chose to wear a neckline like that, she could expect a man to look his fill. He indulged for as long as he dared, which was only a few seconds, considering he and Gwen were in a very public place.
When he forced himself to look away, he was trembling a bit himself. Fantasies of unzipping her dress and sampling those generous breasts swirled through his mind, affecting his breathing.
She wasn’t breathing so easy herself, and her agitation stirred up the erotic, cinnamon-flavored perfume she wore, which excited him even more. By the time they reached the back of the church and moved through the doors into the vestibule where Matty and Sebastian stood waiting, Travis had decided it might be worth his time to cut through the barbed wire Gwen had strung around herself to keep him out.
So what if he wasn’t husband material? He’d taught several women that good sex didn’t have to lead to everlasting love. Mutual enjoyment was justification enough for climbing between the sheets, in his opinion. Gwen needed to expand her options, and he was the guy to help her. If Lizzie hadn’t been twisting his ear during the entire walk down the aisle, it would have been an outstanding interlude.
If he’d had any doubt about Gwen’s reaction to him, she erased it once they passed through the main chapel doors. She wrenched away from him as if she’d been cuddled up to a hot stove. An indifferent woman wouldn’t have made such a big production out of escaping.
Avoiding his gaze, she abandoned the buggy and rushed over to hug Matty. “I’m so happy for you!” she said.
Travis knew Gwen’s sentiments were sincere, but there was a quivery edge to her voice, as if she might not be in complete control of herself. That pleased him. After their walk down the aisle, he’d had to take a few deep breaths, himself. He caught Matty looking at him over Gwen’s shoulder, and he shrugged.
Then he pried Lizzie’s fingers from his ear before walking over and holding out his hand to Sebastian. “Well, it’s too late to turn back now, buddy.”
Sebastian was grinning all over as he clasped Travis’s hand. “We really did it, didn’t we?”
“I do believe you did. Congratulations. You roped yourself a keeper.” He turned to Matty, who looked happier than he’d ever seen her. He’d been her head wrangler at the Leaning L through the bad years with Butch, and the lonely years after Butch crashed his plane into a mountain. Technically she was his boss, but he loved her like a sister, and he was pleased as punch that she and Sebastian had finally figured out they were meant to be more than good neighbors.
Continuing to balance Lizzie in one arm, he leaned down and gave Matty a kiss on the cheek. “I hope you know you’ve hitched up with the stubbornest cow-poke in the valley,” he murmured. “If he gives you any problems, let me know and I’ll kick his butt for you.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” Matty said, her blue eyes twinkling.
“Nice going, Travis.” Sebastian clapped him on the back. “I had Matty convinced I was perfect, but you had to open your yap and ruin my image.”
“My pleasure.” Travis smiled, then winced as Lizzie crowed happily, grabbed his nose and pinched hard. “The kid’s got the instincts of a steer wrestler,” he said as he peeled her fingers away.
Matty laughed. “I’ve taught her all she knows. I’m hoping she’ll have that nose thing perfected by the time she’s eighteen.”
Travis figured now wasn’t the time to mention there was a chance Lizzie wouldn’t grow up on the Rocking D. Matty was more attached to this baby than she knew. “She’s got the nose thing perfected now,” he said, grabbing Lizzie’s hand before she could latch on again.
Matty held out her arms. “Let me hold her while we take care of this reception line business. You’ve been tortured enough.”
“That’s a matter of opinion,” Gwen said.
Travis shot her a look. The old defiance was back in her dark eyes, but he wasn’t intimidated by it anymore. Underneath all her bluster was a woman aching to be kissed, and kissed well. He wondered if he might find the opportunity to take care of that before the night was out.
“Lizzie’s okay with me,” Travis said. “She’ll be fine, now that we got rid of that bow apparatus.”
“I knew that bow was a bad idea,” Matty said, glancing at her new husband, “but Sebastian insisted on making her look like a girl.”
“I liked the bow,” Sebastian said, a stubborn gleam in his eye.
“Well, she didn’t,” Matty said. “And I’m proud of her for sticking to her guns.” She turned back to Travis. “Hand over that little dickens. I miss her already.”
Travis eyed Matty’s white dress. He had a rough idea what the dress cost, and he’d heard some talk about keeping it for the next generation of brides in the Daniels family. He didn’t think Lizzie’s baby drool would improve the dress any. “I’ll hang on to her. That outfit of yours is a keepsake, and this tux is only rented. Might as well keep the mess concentrated in one spot.”
Matty looked down at her dress. “You have a point. I’m not used to being dolled up like this, and I keep forgetting I have to be careful.” She smiled at Travis. “Thank you for your sacrifice. You saved the day.”
“Sacrifice?” Gwen said. “Ha. He eats this stuff with a spoon. He—”
“Maybe we’d better set up our reception line,” Matty said quickly. “People are heading this way. Gwen, you’ll be first, then Travis, then Sebastian, then—”
“There’s that adorable baby!” shrieked Donna Rathbone, kindergarten teacher and one of Travis’s former girlfriends.
Donna had called him her teacher’s pet, he remembered. He had fond memories of hot summer nights about two years ago. Donna hurried through the double doors of the main chapel and headed straight for him, followed by half the congregation, all female, and all jabbering about the baby.
“Then again, maybe we should put Travis first in line,” Matty said as the women enveloped him in a sea of pastels and perfume.
MATTY