Million Dollar Cowboy Page 12

  “The best man speech.”

  “No. I give speeches to large groups all the time.”

  “Look at you, Big Wheel.” Her heart skipped at the idea of him in full command of a stage. Truth was she couldn’t imagine him not being in full command of anything. Well, he did have his fumbles now and again. He wasn’t completely a superhero. She nodded at his left hand. “You’re still wearing Casey’s wedding ring.”

  “I tried soap. Didn’t work.”

  “Panicking yet?”

  “I don’t panic.”

  “Ever?”

  “It’s rare,” he said coolly.

  “I dunno. It felt like you were a little panicky at the altar.”

  “Nope.” He pressed his lips together, suppressing a grin.

  “You wouldn’t admit it if you were panicky.”

  “Now you’re catching on.”

  “Want me to help you get that ring off?”

  “Would you?” Relief lightened his eyes.

  “Can’t have Casey mad at you, can we?” She held out her hand. “Come on.”

  “Where are we going?”

  “My truck.”

  To her surprise, he didn’t ask why, and sank his hand into hers. Trusting her? That was new. Ridge Lockhart didn’t trust anyone. But his skin was on her skin, lighting her up like fireworks.

  Kaia dropped his hand, explained, “We don’t want to give people something to talk about.”

  “No,” he agreed.

  She went ahead of him, moving around the parked cars until she got to her Tundra. She unlocked it, found her purse, dug around inside for dental floss.

  Silence settled over them. They could hear the festivities over at the barn, conversation, laughter, the band tuning up.

  “What’s the dental floss for?” he asked.

  “Watch and learn.” From her oversized purse, she also dug out a Swiss Army knife and a small emergency sewing kit.

  “You don’t have to help me,” he said. “I could figure this out for myself.”

  “I know that.” She looked at his sexy mouth and tried not to think about kissing him. “Finger.”

  “What?”

  “Give it to me.”

  “You know you set that up perfectly, but I’m not going there.”

  “I didn’t mean … oh gosh … I guess that did sound suggestive.” Do not blush. She was not going to blush. Her cheeks burned. Dammit.

  He eyed the knife, the sewing kit, and the dental floss. “What? Are you going to cut my finger off and sew it up with dental floss?”

  “I’m not even answering that.”

  “So … what’s the knife for?”

  “Cutting the floss, the little metal cutty thing came off the roll.”

  “And why do we need dental floss in the first place?”

  “Stop asking questions and trust me. Can you do that?”

  Trust was not his long suit and they both knew it. Slowly, he extended his little finger. “Be gentle. My pinky is in your hands.”

  In the dome light, she cut the dental floss, and threaded it through a needle from the sewing kit. “Hold still,” she said. “I don’t want to poke you.”

  “Talking dirty again?”

  “Hush.” She was blushing once more, but hey, at least she had an olive complexion and the flush wasn’t so easy to detect. She could feel the warmth of his breath on her skin. Remembered his kisses. Her head hummed just thinking about it.

  “Is it hot in here, or is it just you?”

  “Ridge!”

  She could feel his stare burning into her as she slipped the needle underneath Casey’s diamond wedding band. Then she wrapped the waxed string around his finger all the way up to the knuckle. Winding it snuggly, but not so tight as to cut off his circulation. Beginning at the bottom of his fingers, she unwound the floss, the ring moving up the string along with the unwinding.

  “Look at that.” He sounded amazed. “It’s working.”

  “Was there any doubt?”

  “You know uncommon things.”

  “I do.”

  “Part of your Native American secrets?”

  She laughed. “No. One of my physical therapists in rehab was nuts for dental floss. She showed me all kinds of ways to use it. Cutting your food. Starting a fire. Removing old photographs that got stuck together.”

  “File this under Things I Never Knew.”

  She finished unwinding the floss and Casey’s ring dropped from his finger. “Voilà,” she said. “You’re a free man.”

  “With a whole new respect for dental floss.” He laughed, but it was a shaky sound full of nervousness.

  Truth be told, she was shaky nervous too.

  Chapter 13

  Back inside the barn, everyone else had taken seats.

  This time, Kaia and Ridge were the last to arrive.

  “You go ahead,” she told him. “So people won’t know we were together.”

  He ironed his lips together in a firm line, nodded like he was fine with it, but there was disappointment in the way he pivoted and loped away.

  Oh dear.

  She was still sorting out her feelings, and she didn’t want her family and friends weighing in on the relationship. Mainly because it wasn’t a relationship and she was afraid they’d blow things out of proportion.

  Following the excellent meal of tenderloin medallions, risotto, and haricots verts, the speeches began. Waiters dressed as cowboys moved around the tables passing out glasses of champagne and sparkling cider.

  As best man, Ridge was up first, and when he stood, Kaia’s eyes were instantly drawn to him. And she wasn’t the only woman ogling him.

  He glanced down the table and caught her staring at him. The covert smile he sent her landed in her stomach like a firebomb, scorching her from the inside out. He dipped an index finger in his champagne glass, moistening it. Anchored the base of the glass on the table with his other hand, circled his wet finger around the rim, and produced a high-pitched keening.

  Everyone turned to stare at him.

  “Now that I have your attention.” He raised the champagne glass, glanced out at the crowd. “For those of you who don’t know me, I’m Ridge Lockhart. Archer and I have been friends for as long as I can remember. For those of you who do know me, well, I hope you don’t hold our friendship against Archer.”

  That drew a collective laugh.

  Ridge looked over at Archer, who sat to his left beside Casey. “We’ve had our share of adventures together, played sports, pulled pranks, chased girls, and suffered through our share of bratty little brothers and sisters tagging along after us.”

  With that, and it wasn’t her imagination, Ridge gazed pointedly down the table toward her.

  Kaia gulped, ducked her head, and stared at her peach cobbler.

  “We vowed to be lifelong bachelors,” Ridge went on, turning his attention back to Archer. “I kept up my end of the bargain, but then Casey came into his life and changed everything.”

  The crowd murmured a collective “aww.” Kaia’s heart went all mushy at the loving look her brother exchanged with his bride.

  “Archer, I have a baffled respect for anyone who has the courage to ignore the high divorce rate and plunge headfirst into matrimony.”

  An awkward silence fell over the room. Archer shifted uncomfortably and Casey looked as if Ridge had gut-stabbed her. Kaia’s mushy heart tripped into her stomach.

  Gosh, Ridge sounded just like Hugh Grant’s commitment phobic character in Four Weddings and a Funeral. Vivi was right. If she allowed it to happen, Ridge would break her heart.

  So don’t allow it to happen.

  “But you guys aren’t me. You clearly have what it takes to make it for the long haul,” Ridge continued. “My hat is off to you. I know you’ll have a long and happy marriage.”

  A tight smile stretched Archer’s mouth and Casey wrapped her hands around her new husband’s forearm and leaned into him.

  Ridge raised his glass high
er. “Let’s all toast the happy couple and wish them well.”

  “To the happy couple!” the guests said in unison.

  Numbly, Kaia parroted the phrase, downed half her champagne with one swallow. Reality check. Ridge was not the marrying kind. He’d just announced it. No matter what the Song of the Soul Mate might have hummed to her. He was not The One.

  Never mind. It was okay. Forget the humming. She wasn’t disappointed. Okay, maybe a little, but she’d get over it.

  Ridge sat down, and Casey’s dad started his speech. The rest of the speeches passed in a blur, and the next thing she knew the band was launching into the first song for the bride and groom to dance together. The Black Eyed Peas’ “I Gotta Feeling.”

  During the liveliest part of the song, Casey started bouncing up and down and waving people out onto the dance floor with them. Archer had a happily dopey expression on his face as he gazed adoringly at his bride, moving his feet in an I-can’t-dance-but-I’m-giving-it-hell shuffle.

  When that song finished and the band broke into “Save a Horse Ride a Cowboy,” the women cheered and the dance floor flooded with boot-scooting line dancers. Kaia shot a glance at Ridge, but Vivi was already claiming him, taking him by both hands and dragging him into the fray.

  And boy, the man could dance!

  Her jaw dropped.

  Kaia sat watching and clapping, enjoying being a spectator, but then Duke came and without even asking, spun her out of her chair, not taking “no” for an answer.

  “You’re dancing with me, girly,” he announced.

  Not wanting to make a scene at her brother’s wedding, she helplessly joined Ridge’s father on the dance floor, but she couldn’t shake the feeling she was a pawn in the middle of some grudge game between Vivi, Duke, and Ridge. And that was a triangle she wanted nothing of.

  Duke’s black eye was as vivid as Ridge’s and he was sweating and pausing to mop his face with a handkerchief.

  That song faded and the notes of the next tune started up. “Angel Loved the Devil.” A waltz. She was certainly not going to slow dance with Ridge’s father.

  She opened her mouth to tell Duke she needed water, but before she could get a word out, there was Ridge standing beside his father. They stared at each other with mirrored black eyes.

  “I’m cutting in,” Ridge stated, not asking permission. Damn those Lockhart men and their high-handed ways.

  Duke hardened his chin. “I was here first.”

  Kaia sank her hands on her hips. “I’m not a pork chop. I’m not dancing with either one of you. Zeke …” She reached for the ranch hand who was passing by. “Dance with me.”

  Zeke grinned like an opossum and took her up on the offer. Leaving both Duke and Ridge looking put out. Good. Served ’em right.

  But she couldn’t help watching Ridge over Zeke’s shoulder. And when he smiled, damn her hide, she smiled right back.

  “You’re going to blow it with Kaia,” Duke said to Ridge.

  “I didn’t ask your opinion.”

  “It’s for the best that you do blow it. She’s a good girl. Doesn’t need the likes of you fouling her up.”

  “Screw you, Dad.”

  “Back at you.”

  “We’re such a lovely family.”

  “When I saw you getting cozy with her I thought, now there’s a Titanic romance. Gonna hit an iceberg and sink quick.”

  “Why would you say something like that?”

  “Because I know you. The minute things get tough, you take off. I know you don’t think you do it. I know you tell yourself tall tales about why you run away, but the bottom line? You don’t show up for life. That’s why you shouldn’t get cozy with her. She deserves someone who’ll stick around.”

  Ridge turned his jaw to marble, tightening his muscles until they quivered with repressed anger. “We’re not getting cozy.”

  “You think I’m blind?”

  “I think you have no right to weigh in on anyone else’s romance.”

  “Touché,” Duke said mildly, surprising Ridge with a mashed-potatoes voice. “She is gorgeous. You’ve got good taste.”

  “Back off.”

  “I’m married, you idiot,” Duke scoffed.

  “I don’t trust you. You have a history of stealing my girlfriends.”

  “If Vivi was so easy to steal away, she wasn’t yours in the first place.” Duke snorted like a longhorn lost in a mesquite thicket. “There’s one thing you fail to understand about me and Vivi, son.”

  Ridge prickled at the word son. “And that is?”

  “I love her.”

  It was Ridge’s turn to snort.

  Duke thrust out his chest. “And she loves me.”

  “Whatever you need to tell yourself.”

  “It might not be the most functional relationship in the world,” Duke admitted. “But it works for us. We’ve been married ten years, and still going strong.”

  “Angling for husband of the year?”

  “Smart-ass.”

  “I inherited it from somewhere.”

  “Your mother’s side.”

  Ridge narrowed his eyes. “As if you knew the first thing about my mother.”

  Duke stared at Ridge, his face pale beneath his tan, eyes red and exhausted. “You think I’m hard? Boy, you don’t know the meaning of the word. Try having my old man for a father. Compared to that, you got lucky. You got cream puff.”

  “I know, I know. Gramps used to beat you with a bullwhip.”

  “I got the scars to prove it.” Duke yanked his shirttail from his pants and lifted up the hem to reveal a crisscross of old scars striping his back. “I don’t hold it against him though.”

  “No?”

  “My father knew this was a harsh land and you had to be tough to make it in the Trans-Pecos.”

  “Well, thank you for not beating me with a bullwhip. I feel so blessed.”

  Duke closed his black eye, rubbed a palm over the cheek Ridge had punched. “You got your shot in.”

  “Excuse me,” asked a sweet voice. “May I have this dance?”

  Ridge looked over, and there was Kaia smiling at him and holding out her hand. How many times had she held out her hand to him since he’d been home? Open, accepting, welcoming.

  “Sorry,” Ridge told Duke. “I have a lady to dance with.” He swung Kaia out onto the dance floor in time to “My Silver Lining.”

  Damn if she wasn’t his silver lining. His throat tightened as he looked into her kind eyes. His chest squeezed and all he could do was hold on to her.

  They moved as if they’d been dancing together their entire life. They fit. Hand in glove.

  “You okay?” she asked.

  “If you keep rescuing me, I’m going to have to turn in my man card.”

  Her smile was gentle as a light blanket on a cool desert night. “Everyone needs a helping hand now and again. Even the most independent men.”

  The phone in his pocket buzzed.

  He was so busy staring into Kaia’s eyes that he almost didn’t register that his cell had vibrated, shouldn’t have answered it, but upon the third buzz, he couldn’t resist. He’d been waiting on news from his staff about the pending contract with a silver mining company in China. If this deal went through, he would be twenty times richer than his father.

  And that felt good. Damn good.

  “Just a sec,” he said, waltzing her over to one side of the dance floor and reaching for his phone.

  She glared. “Seriously?”

  He held up one finger, motioning for her to give him a minute. Yep. It was from his lawyer. There were several missed calls. Apparently, Phil had tried to phone him, couldn’t get through with the spotty cell reception, and ended up texting him a novella. Not a quick read.

  A you-gotta-be-kidding-me-right-now expression crossed Kaia’s face and she sank her hands on her hips. “Are you seriously phubbing me?”

  “Phubbing?”

  “Phone snubbing.”

  “I don’
t mean to be rude, but my employees and customers expect me to answer texts and emails right away.”

  “Even at night?”

  “Yes.”

  “Even on the weekends?”

  “Yes.”

  “Even when you’re attending a wedding?”

  “Yes.”

  “Bad habit.”

  “I know.”

  “You need to set boundaries.”

  “Boundaries?” he teased. “What are these things you speak of?”

  She chuffed out a breath, shook her head ruefully. “I can see I’m not going to change you. Go ahead. Take care of business.”

  Then she turned and walked away.

  Dammit! He switched off his phone and ran after her.

  “Wait, wait.” Ridge grabbed her elbow.

  At his touch, Kaia’s pulse quickened. If there was one thing her accident had taught her, it was how to set boundaries and stick to them. Phubbing was unacceptable behavior in her book. Yes, he was a busy and important man.

  But this was a wedding and he’d been dancing with her. It wasn’t prima donna behavior to expect his full attention in the moment.

  “I’m sorry,” he apologized.

  Although she insisted on being treated with respect, she wasn’t a hard-ass. Turning toward him, she dialed up an all-is-forgiven smile. “Apology accepted.”

  Relief filled his eyes, and he held out an inviting hand. “Come back and dance with me.”

  “Did you finish reading your texts?”

  “No. That can wait.”

  “Because of me?”

  “Because of you.”

  She took his hand and he wrapped his right arm around her waist, spun her back out onto the dance floor with the rest of the dancers bopping to a bouncy beat.

  “When did you learn how to dance?” she asked.

  “Took lessons,” he said.

  “To meet girls?”

  “For business functions. Learned to play golf too.”

  “Should have guessed. With you, it’s all about the job.”

  Not denying it, he shrugged, as if to say, what else is there? “You’re cutting a pretty good rug yourself.”

  “Dancing was part of my rehab.”

  “I hate you went through that.”

  “That’s life. Bad things happen sometimes.”

  “But you made lemonade.”

  “I’m not a whiner. Whining doesn’t change things and dwelling on the negative just makes you miserable. No point.”