True-Blue Cowboy - Vicki Lewis Thompson Page 0,63

full force. She’d confirmed it when they’d cooked breakfast together. He’d been ravenous, both for food and for her. Leaving hadn’t been easy for him, but he’d done it.

Leaving had been a snap for him tonight. When his truck hadn’t pulled away immediately, she’d fantasized he might be debating a plea to renegotiate. Then Rafe had arrived, making the situation clear. He hadn’t stayed because he was undecided. He’d stayed because his truck wouldn’t start.

She dumped the votives in the kitchen trashcan. Garbage day was tomorrow so they’d be out of here for good. The nightgown in her pocket was a different story.

She’d never owned nightwear this lovely. But she’d never wear it again. Maybe getting it out of sight was the best she could do for now. And she had the perfect place.

A nightlight on the back porch helped her navigate the hallway. She’d asked Nick to move the black trunk to the porch while she figured out what to do with the contents. She’d thrown away the disintegrating plastic storage bag in her outside trash bin.

Opening the curved lid, she lifted a section of the wedding dress and shoved the nightgown underneath it. Eventually she’d deal with the contents of the trunk, but it didn’t have to be now. Or tomorrow.

She had plenty of other items on her plate…like Nick’s freaking presence in every freaking corner of her house, including this one. How had she let that happen?

Turning on the floodlights that illuminated the back yard, she stared at the pile of stones and the freshly tilled earth where she’d plant her bulbs this week. He was out there, too, of course.

And in her claw-foot tub and most certainly in her attic. Where hadn’t he made his mark? Only the two bedrooms she hadn’t cleaned or done anything with were Nick-free zones. She couldn’t very well live in those for the rest of her life.

She was well and truly screwed. Good thing she hadn’t fallen in love with him. That would have been the icing on this fustercluck cake.

Eva slept fitfully but managed to get in a few hours, which she desperately needed to handle a full load of clients at the salon. Josette greeted her with a cheery question about how Sunday had turned out with Nick.

She’d fill Josette in eventually, but not now, considering the number of clients they’d each booked. She responded with an equally cheerful great which was true as far as it went.

The first two hours of the morning flew by. Because she loved her work and her clients, she could block out the tragic conclusion of her affair with Nick and simply do her job. Then her eleven o’clock arrived—Jake Lassiter.

He eyed her with caution as he settled into her chair. His how’s it going had an undercurrent of tension. Clearly the Buckskin Brotherhood hotline had sent out the word—one of their own had been wounded. And they were a protective bunch.

She treated him as if nothing was wrong as she washed his hair and wielded her scissors. She asked about Millie and whether they’d set a date. Not yet.

He thanked her for her contribution to Raptors Rise and she asked about progress on the visitor center. Henri had hired Jake to manage the sanctuary and he loved the idea of working with wild birds. For several minutes they sailed happily along on that conversational river.

But as she was blow-drying his hair, he lowered his voice and dropped his bombshell. “Eva, Nick’s destroyed. Totally wiped out.”

She switched off the dryer and took a breath. Clearly he’d used the dryer noise to mask his comment. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

“He’d kill me for saying it, but I’ve been in his shoes.” He continued to speak in soft tones. The chatter between Josette and her client provided excellent cover. “I didn’t want anybody messing in my business, either, but if they hadn’t, I wouldn’t be with Millie now.”

Her chest tightened. “With all due respect, Jake, your situation with Millie is nothing like mine with Nick.” She squirted a dab of styling gel on her fingers.

“In most ways, that’s true, but I’ll go out on a limb and say one thing looks the same to me.”

She rubbed the styling gel into his thick hair. “I can’t imagine what.”

“The life Millie offered scared me to death.”

She fought to stay calm, stroking the gel through his hair, creating a sassy style that he’d ruin the minute he put on his hat. “I’m not scared of what Nick