A Home of Her Own (Dundee, Idaho #4)(37)
Author: Brenda Novak

He knew better than to agree. Drinking and relaxing would lead exactly where he wanted it to lead. But what they’d done so far had complicated his life enough already. Maybe, to a certain extent, he could excuse himself for that night at his place and then at the motel. Lucky had dropped into his life out of nowhere, and the attraction he felt toward her had taken him by surprise. But now that he’d had a chance to realize what he was doing, he had no excuse for making the situation worse. “No, thanks.”

She sat on the couch behind him and hugged her legs to her chest. “So, what about the tree?”

He turned to face her, his gaze immediately falling to her lips. Maybe he couldn’t touch her again, but looking didn’t hurt. “You haven’t told me what I want to know.”

“Can’t a woman drive through a neighborhood to admire the Christmas lights?”

“Jon said you were out there all afternoon.”

“It was only an hour or two.”

“Why?”

“I wanted to see someone.”

The jealousy that trickled through Mike surprised him. He wasn’t the jealous type. “Not Jon.”

She laughed. “No.”

“Who, then?”

“Did you buy the tree?”

He moved closer, to sit on the arm of the couch. “What if I did?”

“I’d want to know why.”

“Because you didn’t have one, I guess.”

“So?”

“I didn’t like it that you didn’t have one.”

Their eyes met and locked, and a provocative smile slowly curved her lips. “If I wasn’t Red’s daughter, would you want to spend time with me, Mike?”

“Yes.”

Her lips parted and her eyes widened when he answered so quickly; he’d shocked her a little.

“And it would help if you were about ten years older, too,” he added.

“My age bothers you?”

“I’m too old to…spend time with you,” he finished, borrowing her words.

“Who says? We’re both adults.”

He was glad, at this point, that he’d refused the wine. “Who did you want to see at the Smalls?”

“Dave.”

“Why?”

She shrugged. “I haven’t seen him since I left.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I was just wondering how he’s doing, what kind of person he is.” She propped her chin on her knees. “Do you like Dave?”

Mike generally kept his feelings about other people to himself. “I don’t have much to do with him.”

“You’re avoiding the question.”

“Okay, I don’t particularly like him. Do you?”

“I don’t know.” She bit her lip, then took the conversation in a whole new direction. “Have you ever been in love, Mike?”

He coughed in surprise. “What does that have to do with Dave?”

“Nothing.”

She didn’t apologize for the question or retract it, and Mike found himself considering the women he’d dated and sometimes slept with. Had he been in love, or had he simply cared for them? “I don’t think so.”

“Not even with Lindsey Carpenter?”

“Maybe with Lindsey Carpenter, but it didn’t last, and I don’t remember feeling too bad when she broke things off.”

“I always thought you loved her.”

“Why?”

“I thought you’d have to love her to kiss her that way.”

“You saw me kiss Lindsey?”

“When I was sixteen.”

“Are you saying you used to spy on me?”

She chuckled. “Not exclusively. I just loved going over to your place, being with the horses, hearing the cowboys talk back and forth.” She hesitated, then said more softly, “Knowing you were close by.”

Her admission evoked a protectiveness he knew he was better off not feeling. “Why did you want to see Dave?” he asked, heading back to safer ground.

She let go of her legs and grabbed a throw pillow instead. “Can I trust you not to tell anyone?”

A funny feeling washed over Mike, something that warned him not to commit himself. He was already far too sympathetic to her, didn’t need anything else to soften his heart. But he didn’t feel any particular loyalty to the Smalls, so he figured he wasn’t taking much of a risk. Besides, she’d kept the secret of their rendezvous at the motel. He could certainly keep a secret for her. “Sure.”

She gave up on the throw pillow and reached up to twist her long hair into a knot. “He slept with my mother twenty-five years ago.”

He tried not to notice how her br**sts lifted as she moved, and concentrated instead on the relief going through him. This news didn’t really surprise him. A lot of people had slept with Red. Maybe Dave tried to present himself as a paragon of virtue, but Mike knew he generally did whatever he could get away with. “Why is his contact with your mother of more interest than anyone else’s?”

“Because he could be my father.”

That took a moment to sink in. Her father? Mike had always just accepted that Lucky had no father. He’d never dreamed that it could be someone well-known, someone who was married at the time she was conceived. But it made sense now that he thought about it. Red had slept with a good number of men, and they weren’t all single. Take his grandfather, for example.

Finally, he gave a low whistle. “Have you told him?”

“No.”

“Are you going to?”

She got up and poured herself a glass of wine. “I don’t know. Maybe. I haven’t decided. I only found out a few months ago.”

“That’s why you came back here,” he said as understanding dawned.

“See? I tried to tell you I didn’t come back just to torture you and your family.”

“Is that why you’re telling me about Dave, to put me at ease?”

“Were you nervous?”

He wasn’t nervous. He just hated being in the middle. And, in some ways, her real motivation made him even more uncomfortable. Digging up the secrets of the past was never a very safe occupation. And yet he had a tough time begrudging her that information, when it was only natural she’d want to know. “Not exactly. How’d you learn about Dave?”

“My mother kept a journal.”

Mike remembered the black book Lucky had tucked under her coat when he’d taken her into town during the storm and suddenly understood what it was and why she’d considered it important enough to retrieve. But what she’d said had him seriously concerned, for Lucky and for Dave. “You need to be careful, Lucky. I wouldn’t tell anyone. Dave’s too ambitious.”