Married Till Christmas. Christine Rimmer
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Until tonight.
Her mother had been right. He’d needed to get her away from Justice Creek and all the reminders of how bad he’d messed up with her back in the day. Vegas was the perfect place to finally get going on the rest of their lives together.
Now, if he could just keep from blowing this...
* * *
Nell tried to figure out where to begin with him as the waitress came, took their orders and returned with their drinks.
When the waitress left the table for the second time, Nell took a sip of her cosmo and jumped in. “Why me—and why won’t you take a hint that I’m just not interested?”
He stared into his single malt, neat, as if the answer to her question waited in the smoky amber depths. “I don’t believe you’re not interested. You just don’t trust me.”
“Duh.” She poured on the sarcasm and made a big show of tapping a finger against her chin. “Let me think. I wonder why?”
“How many times do I need to say that I messed up? I messed up twice. I’m so damn sorry and I need you to forgive me. You’re the best thing that ever happened to me. And...” He shook his head. “Fine. I get it. I smashed your heart to tiny, bloody bits. How many ways can I say I was wrong?”
Okay. He was kind of getting to her. For a second there, she’d almost reached across the table and touched his clenched fist. She so had to watch herself. Gently she suggested, “How about this? I accept your apology. It was years ago and we need to move on.”
He slanted her a sideways look, dark brows showing glints of auburn in the light from above. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“So then we can try again?”
Should she have known that would be his next question? Yeah, probably. “I didn’t say that.”
“I want another chance.”
“Well, that’s not happening.”
“Yes, it is. And when it does, I’m not letting you go. This time it’s going to be forever.”
She almost grinned. Because that was another thing about Deck. Not only did he have big arms, broad shoulders and a giant brain.
He was cocky. Very, very cocky.
And she was enjoying herself far too much. It really was a whole lot of fun to argue with him. It always had been. And the most fun of all was finally being the one in the position of power.
Back when they’d been together, he was the poor kid and she was a Bravo—one of the Bastard Bravos, as everybody had called her mother’s children behind their backs. But a Bravo, nonetheless. Her dad had had lots of money and he’d taken care of his kids, whether he’d had them by his wife or by her mother, who was his mistress at the time. Nell always had the right clothes and a certain bold confidence that made her popular. She hadn’t been happy at home by any stretch, but guys had wanted to go out with her and girls had kind of envied her.
And all she’d ever wanted was Deck. So, really, he’d had all the power then.
Now, for some reason she didn’t really understand, he’d decided he just had to get another chance with her. Now, she was the one saying no. Payback was a bitch, all right. Not to mention downright delicious.
He finally took a slow sip of his Scotch. “Look. It almost killed me to lose you. But I couldn’t afford you then. You have to know that. I had things to do, stuff to make happen.” His eyes were brown in this light, brown and soft and so sincere. “I had nothing to give you then.”
“I wanted nothing from you and you know that. Nothing but your love.”
He looked away. She stared at the side view of his Adam’s apple. Just like old times. “Come on, Nellie. I had too much to prove. It would never have worked then.”
He was probably right. “And it’s not going to work now.” She leaned across the table toward him, held his gaze steady on and concentrated on trying really hard to get through to him. “I don’t trust you. I can’t trust you. It’s not that I hate you. I don’t. I don’t despise you. I just want you to let it go. Leave me be and move on.”
He drank more Scotch. “Have dinner with me.” She opened her mouth to say no, but then he reached out and covered her hand with his. The words backed up in her throat. “Just dinner.” His grip was hot and a little bit rough, and it felt unbelievably right.
How could that be? Words and breaths and even her heart felt all tangled up together in the base of her throat, all tied in hot, sweet, hurtful knots. She opened her mouth to tell him no and he slid his thumb under her fingers, into the vulnerable secret center of her palm, and squeezed, just a little.
Impossibly, she squeezed back. The light from above caught in his eyes, burned in them.
She swallowed, hard. “It would...only be dinner.”
The flame in his eyes leaped higher. Dear, sweet Lord, had she really said that? She needed to take it back this instant. She pulled free.
He didn’t try to hold on, just slid his hand back to his side of the table and said in a neutral tone, “Only dinner. That’s good.”
And she couldn’t help thinking that, really, what could it hurt? Here, in this glittery, sprawling desert city where nobody knew them? It could be a good way, a graceful way, to finally say goodbye.
* * *
He took her to the hotel’s French restaurant, Quatre Trèfles. The food was wonderful and there were several courses, different wines offered with each new dish.
Nell drank sparingly. She planned a full day at the trade show tomorrow and didn’t want to be hungover. Plus, she needed all her wits about her when dealing with the impossible man across the white-clothed table from her.
Deck looked so good by candlelight. It burnished his thick brown hair and brought out the wicked gleam in his eyes. She had to watch herself around him, she really did. She wanted to handle this goodbye evening with grace.
There was actual chitchat. He asked how she’d gotten into business with Garrett. She explained that after two years at Colorado State, she’d had enough of college. Garrett was doing pretty well building houses. She’d started out working for him. They got along well together.
She laughed. “He’s always calling me a pain in his ass.”
“But he couldn’t get along without you.”
“You’ve got that right. A few years back, he wanted to start building spec houses. I put in some of my inheritance for that and we became partners.”
Deck talked about his barrel business, which he’d started eight years ago in the garage of the house he’d been living in then. At the time, he’d tended bar at Teddy’s