The Only Man for Her Page 6

  And that gave him an idea. He sank into the chair again. She expected him to fight her on the issue, so it was high time to do the unexpected. He had no intention of letting her go, but he sure as hell could pretend to be going along with the divorce. Maybe that would shock her back to her senses. If not, he’d figure something out.

  As the door opened, he did the gentlemanly thing and stood even though he didn’t particularly feel like being polite. Savannah walked in first, with his wife trailing behind her. Rachel wore a leopard-print silk top that hung off one shoulder and a pair of black pants that showcased her butt when she turned to close the door. Her dark hair had recently been cut into long black layers and she had on more makeup than he’d seen her wear in quite some time. The fact that she looked so damn good only made him more determined to put an end to this nonsense.

  As Rachel took the chair across from him and centered her gaze on his, Matt sat back down and stared at her until she looked away.

  Savannah cleared her throat. “Since Wilma’s out today, I have to have Ike sign some papers. I’ll be back in a few minutes, and while I’m gone, I expect both of you to play nice. Can you do that?”

  Rachel finally brought her attention back to him. “I will if he will.”

  Oh, he’d play nice, all right—for now. “Not a problem.”

  After Savannah left the room, a long bout of silence passed before Matt decided to break it with a backhanded compliment. “Nice outfit. I’ve never seen you in animal print before. Looks like you’re ready to go out on the prowl.”

  She folded her hands together on the table and gave him a good eye rolling. “Believe me, that’s the last thing on my mind.”

  He sent a pointed look at her white-tipped, freshly manicured fingernails. “Then I guess you’re all ready for the divorce party.”

  “Look, Matt, I know you’re angry, but I did warn you two weeks ago.”

  “I’m not mad.” And that was one of the biggest lies he’d told in recent history.

  Her eyes went wide. “You’re not?”

  “Nope. Just disappointed. I thought after I left the house following our little reunion, you might’ve given it some thought and changed your mind. But hey, if this is what you want, I’m not going to stop you.”

  “Then you’re not going to fight the divorce?”

  “What’s the point? You’ve made up your mind, so I’m not going to try to change it.” The second biggest lie.

  “Good,” she said quietly. “I’d like to think we can handle this civilly.”

  “I do have one condition.”

  “What would that be?”

  “Because you didn’t warn me before you dropped this little divorce grenade, it’s only fair that Savannah’s my lawyer.”

  She narrowed her dark eyes. “She’s one of my best friends, and besides, I was here first.”

  If she wanted to play dirty, he’d play right along. “I met her before you did way back when, so I get first dibs on her.”

  “That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard come out of your mouth!”

  He sat back and smiled. “I figure we’ll have to divvy up our friends along with the property anyway. We might as well start with Savannah.”

  She looked like she was about to blow a gasket. “Is this how it’s going to be, Matthew? Are you going to give me grief during this whole process?”

  You bet he was. “Hey, you wanted this divorce. Guess you’ll just have to deal with whatever comes your way from now on.”

  “And you are the most stubborn, infuriating person I have ever met.”

  When she got ticked off, she had to be the sexiest woman he’d ever seen. “Right back at ya, princess.”

  “Stop calling me that!”

  Savannah rushed into the room looking fit to be tied. “Would the two of you keep it down? The entire town can hear you.”

  “Sorry,” Rachel muttered. “He started it by claiming he should be able to retain your services instead of me.”

  He didn’t appreciate being painted as the bad guy in this situation. “Like I said, it’s the least you can do after your little surprise.”

  Savannah formed a T with her hands. “Time-out.”

  Rachel went from angry to ashamed in five seconds flat. “I apologize and so does Matt.”

  When Rachel kicked his shin beneath the table, Matt winced. “Yeah, sorry for letting it get out of hand.”

  After Savannah took a seat, she sent both of them a hard look. “First of all, as I told Rachel when she initially met with me, filing the petition will be my only role in the process. I’m not going to represent either of you because it would be a conflict of interest. You’ll have to hire your own attorneys, and heaven help them both if this is the way you’re going to act when you get within five feet of each other.”

  “But you did mention you’d handle the divorce as long as we agree to an equitable division of property,” Rachel said.

  Savannah rubbed her temple with her fingertips, as if she had a major headache. “I don’t think you two can agree on what day it is, let alone who gets what.”

  Rachel shifted her attention to Matt, her expression all sweetness and light. “I personally don’t want to hire an attorney, so I don’t see why we can’t call a truce and sort through the division of assets.”

  Matt personally didn’t see why any of this was necessary. But he’d pretend to agree, for now. “Works for me.”

  She turned a fake smile on Savannah. “See there? We can be mature, congenial adults.”

  “You’ll have to prove it,” Savannah said. “If you can come up with a list and let me look it over, and if you don’t disagree on any points, then I’ll consider finalizing the divorce for you.” When Rachel opened her mouth to speak, Savannah held up a finger to silence her. “But if it appears you’re going to contest anything, and I don’t care if it’s a DVD, then you’re both on your own.”

  Matt didn’t mind going over the assets. This course of action afforded him the opportunity to be with Rachel and wear her down a little at a time. Before he was done, he planned to have her home and in his bed.

  Savannah scooted her chair back and stood. “Call me when you’re ready to iron out the details. In the meantime, I’m meeting my future husband for lunch to talk about the wedding. You can see yourselves out when you’re ready, but please do not resume the brawl until you’re outside.”

  After Savannah turned on her heels and headed out the door, Rachel regarded him with an all-business look. “I suppose the next step would be to pick a day and time to go over the property. Tomorrow’s out because I’m volunteering at the fire department’s rodeo.”

  Matt saw an opportunity and grabbed it. “Just so you know, I’m going to be there, too.”

  “Doing what?”

  “I’m always on call in case someone’s horse pulls up lame, and someone’s always does.”

  “Of course.” She folded her hands on the table, looking as prim and proper as a spinster. Or as proper as she could in that leopard top. “As long as we both live in this town, we’re going to run into each other now and then. That doesn’t mean we have to be anything but cordial to each other.”

  “Then you’re prepared to let everyone know we’ve split?”

  She seemed to mull that over for a while. “That’s probably not a good idea, at least in the short term. My father doesn’t know yet.”

  That made no sense to Matt. “You’re living right under his nose and he hasn’t noticed?”

  “He left for Florida the day before I moved into the guesthouse. He won’t be back for another week or so.”

  “And you’ve managed to keep it from the hired help?”

  “I told Zelda we’ve been painting the house and the fumes were getting to me.”

  His wife had become a pretty little liar. “Must’ve been one hell of a paint job, since you’ve been there for almost a month. Or maybe I should say a snow job.”

  “I’m just not ready to d
eal with my father.”

  “Afraid he’s going to tell you ‘I told you so’?”

  “I’m afraid to hand him more stress. He’s had enough of that with Dalton’s trial and sentencing.”

  No one deserved to be in jail more than his former brother-in-law. And he frankly didn’t give a damn about his father-in-law, either. “Well, sweetheart, you’re going to have to deal with your daddy sooner or later.” He stood, planted his palms on the table and leaned forward. “Maybe you should’ve thought about that before you started this mess.”

  Without saying goodbye, Matt left the office and climbed into his truck. As bad as being blindsided had been, at least now he had a goal. Come hell or high water, he’d figure out some way to get her back.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  “NEXT UP IN the calf roping, our final entrant of the day, Placid’s own Matt Boyd.”

  Surely she hadn’t heard right.

  Rachel slid the box of popcorn and soda across the counter, told the woman, “It’s on the house,” and strode out of the concession tent without looking back. She stopped at the far end of the arena and verified that her ears hadn’t failed her. There sat Matt on his old gelding Cody, waiting in the box. He wore a blue plaid shirt over a white T, a better pair of faded jeans and the tan felt hat she’d given him on his birthday the previous year.

  After Matt nodded, the barrier dropped, releasing the calf from the chute. Matt took off in a flash, piggin’ string in his mouth, rope whirling above his head. He’d barely traveled a few feet before he’d landed the calf, had the poor thing tied in a matter of seconds and raised his hands above his head. Rachel found herself holding her breath after Matt climbed back into the saddle and walked the gelding forward. The calf minimally struggled to break free of its constraints, but the knot stayed secured for the required six seconds. Only then could Rachel relax, as if she had a vested interest in his success.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, we’ve saved the best for last! That cowboy is our winner, with a time of 6.9 seconds!”

  That cowboy. Like so many women, she’d always been a sucker for the cowboy charisma, and Matt definitely still had it in spades. She thought back to all those times in high school when she’d followed him from town to town on the weekends, frequenting too many rodeos to count. He’d been more daring then, participating in bull riding as well as roping events. After a few cracked ribs and two concussions, she’d convinced him to give up the bull riding, much to her relief. At least now he knew his limitations, or so she’d thought. She wouldn’t be a bit surprised if he entered every event, including climbing on the back of a raging bull, just to spite her.

  How he chose to conduct himself shouldn’t matter to her now, yet unfortunately it still did. Regardless of the fact that they would soon go their separate ways, she would never want to see any harm come to him. But she couldn’t control his actions any more than she could control her continued attraction to him.

  After Matt took off his hat and waved at the crowd to acknowledge their applause, Rachel headed back to man her station. She’d been there only a few moments before Mary Lou Tremaine, the fundraiser’s chair, came flitting into the tent like a human hummingbird.

  “Rachel, we need you,” she said. “Come with me.”

  “Where?” Rachel asked.

  “Matt’s taking his win picture for the new website and you need to be in it.”

  That darned website had been her own father’s doing, and possibly her undoing. She certainly didn’t relish the thought of being immortalized on the internet with her soon-to-be ex-husband. “It’s kind of busy here.”

  Mary Lou looked around at the empty tent and the two other volunteers standing near the ice machine, chatting. “Honey, it’s about as slow as molasses right now. Besides, Nancy and Joe can cover for you.”

  Great. Just great. She searched her brain for another excuse, but if she protested too much, everyone would start to speculate, and she wasn’t ready to face the rumors. “Okay, but I can only be gone for a few minutes in case it does get busy.”

  She followed Mary Lou out of the tent as the woman guided her past the arena and behind the small grandstand where seventysomething Harvey Gallagher, the town’s only photographer, had set up shop. She glanced to her right to see Matt walking toward them, chatting with a cute, fresh-faced little blonde bearing a rodeo-queen sash and a smile that indicated she’d won the prize, namely Matt.

  Her husband had always been an incurable flirt, and most of the time Rachel hadn’t minded. After all, she’d trusted he’d be coming home with her. That was no longer the case. If jealousy were jet fuel, she could power an entire fleet of airplanes. Well, they weren’t divorced yet, and she planned to make that quite clear to the cowgirl nymph.

  As soon as Harvey directed Matt to stand in front of the makeshift wooden backdrop, Rachel walked to his side and inserted herself between him and the blonde. “Congratulations, sweetie. You surprised me with your agility. I didn’t know you still had it in you at your age.”

  He looked more than a little surprised himself. “I didn’t realize you were watching.”

  “Oh, yes. I wouldn’t have missed it for the world.”

  “Where do you want me, Harvey?” Blondie asked.

  In the next county, Rachel almost answered, but adopted a polite demeanor, even after Harvey directed the girl to stand on Matt’s other side…and to move in closer.

  When Rachel slid her arm around Matt’s waist, she felt the dampness beneath his cotton shirt, the heat radiating from his body. She caught the trace scent of his aftershave and battled the urge to nuzzle her face in his neck. Heavens, she was tangled up in the throes of a pheromone attack when she should be keeping her distance. Worse still, it took Harvey forever to snap the picture.

  After he dismissed them, Matt turned to the blonde. “Thanks, Tina.”

  “Thank you, Matt,” she answered. “And let me know when you want to get together.”

  “I’ll give you a call,” he said. “Or you can call me at the number I gave you.”

  Rachel felt as if her head might explode off her shoulders. She couldn’t believe that her husband had so blatantly flaunted a rendezvous with a young woman at least ten years his junior.

  As soon as Tina left, Rachel dropped her arm and propped a hand on her hip. “Who was that?”

  He had the gall to grin. “That’s Jeb Henson’s girl. Didn’t you recognize her?”

  “No, I did not. She’s what, eighteen?”

  “Twenty-one.” He pointed to his right. “I’ve gotta go unsaddle Cody and take him home.”

  When Matt started away, Rachel froze for a few moments, cemented in place by her rage. She forced herself to go after him and order up an explanation, even if she didn’t exactly warrant one. He was free to do as he pleased, with whomever he pleased. But she refused to become a joke in the eyes of the townsfolk because her husband had taken up with some hussy before the ink had dried on the divorce documents. He walked a few steps ahead as they crossed the gravel lot, while she intentionally stayed back. Granted, she should have her head examined, but she still appreciated his finer points, like the way he dangled his arms casually at his sides. Strong, manly arms to match his very manly hands. And, well, his butt wasn’t so bad either, and that was putting it mildly. Slim hips and great thighs encased in jeans that fit him well. She’d always been able to drive him crazy by tickling the backs of his knees with her fingertips before she’d work her way up… .

  She shook her head as if she could dislodge those pleasant memories. As if she could forget all those nights when she’d explored every blasted inch of his body.

  Rachel waited a few yards back while Matt unsaddled the gelding and finished loading him into the aluminum trailer. Several times they’d made love in the sleeper compartment in that trailer when Matt had served as an on-call vet in various cities in the state. It hadn’t bothered them a bit that the space had been limited. Matt had always had a way of making do, and he’d alway
s done it well.

  If she knew what was good for her—which she apparently didn’t—she’d banish those memories immediately. He deserved a piece of her mind, not praise for a past she needed to forget.

  As soon as Matt turned around from closing the double doors, Rachel moved forward and leveled her ire on him. “Do you mind telling me what you were thinking?”

  He rounded the trailer and opened the driver-side door of the truck before facing her. “If you’re referring to the roping, if I want to enter an event, I’m going to enter it.”

  “I don’t mean only the roping,” she said. “I meant your efforts to relive your youth like you’re thirteen, not thirty-two.”

  Without regard to his surroundings, Matt undid his shirt cuffs then worked the buttons on the placket. “I’ve been roping cattle most of my life and I still do from time to time in the course of my job. That’s not reliving my youth. That’s my reality.”

  “Again, it’s not just the roping. You were pretty cozy with the rodeo queen.”

  “What’s it to you anyway?” He shrugged out of the shirt and pulled the white T-shirt over his head. “Are you jealous?”

  Yes, and extremely distracted when Matt just stood there completely bare chested and not in any hurry to cover himself. Funny, she’d seen his chest thousands of times in their years together, knew every detail of his body by heart and by touch. The scar along his left rib cage, the scorpion tattoo circling his right biceps, the slight shading of hair above his sternum and the ridged muscle below that. Yet for some reason she gaped as if she’d never laid eyes—much less her hands—on him before. Since the moment they’d snapped the photo, she’d been acting as if he were some gorgeous, carefree cowboy she’d met only minutes ago. She shouldn’t be so darned attracted to her husband after all this time, but she couldn’t help it. And that attraction had only been enhanced with the knowledge he might be sharing his extremely remarkable attributes with another woman. Correction. Girl.