Chapter Nine
Tripp double-checked the casserole in the oven and glanced around. The house was clean, the table set, and any minute, the lovely Charlotte Gram would show up. Bo and Cash had taken Gracie out about an hour ago, and between dinner and the roller-skating and movie, they’d be out for another four hours or so. He didn’t bother telling either Cash or Bo about his date in because then he’d get the third degree. He only had a few hours to enjoy her company, and he was going to enjoy them, damn it.
He’d just taken the casserole out when the front door boomed open.
“Daddy!” Gracie yelled, running through the house to come give him a hug.
His heart stuttered. “Hey, baby girl, what are y’all doing home?”
Bo and Cash came in behind her.
“We got through dinner and realized she didn’t have her skates.”
“I’m going to go get them,” she said, and ran to her room.
Bo and Cash exchanged a glace, then focused on Tripp.
“So…what are you up to?” Bo asked, looking over the kitchen table that was set nicely, and yeah, he may have lit the one candle he could find.
“Nothing,” Tripp said.
Cash raised a brow. “It’s okay, Tripp. Sometimes I need to unwind and”—he looked extra long at the candle, then at Tripp’s casserole—“pamper myself.”
“Jesus Christ,” Tripp grumbled.
Bo just sucked air between his teeth and shook his head. “Nah, I don’t think that’s what’s going on here.” He squatted down to look under the table. Then he opened the big pantry door and looked in it.
“What are you doing?” Tripp asked.
“Oh, I’m just looking for the girl you’re hiding,” Bo said confidently.
“I’m not hiding anything, I’m just cooking a meal,” Tripp defended.
“In your fancy Woody apron?” Bo said.
Tripp looked down at himself. Gracie had gotten into Toy Story after it came on TV last year and thought Tripp’s being a cowboy and Woody’s being a cowboy was too much of a coincidence to go uncelebrated, so Cash found this gem online and ordered it. Which yeah, made him look like an idiot, but his baby girl liked it, so he wore it.
“Why don’t you all head out?” Tripp suggested. Firmly.
“Hustle up, kiddo, your daddy is kicking us out,” Bo called.
“I’m not kicking you out, you just don’t want the roller rink to get too busy.”
Bo and Cash exchanged looks again, and yeah, even Tripp didn’t buy it. It was Cheyenne, Wyoming—nothing got busy around there. Unless the rodeo was in town.
“I can’t find my skates!” Gracie yelled from her room.
The doorbell rang, and Tripp’s anxiety ratcheted up another notch. This was not going the way he’d planned. Not at all.
Cash nudged Bo, and the two headed for the hall. “Let’s…give him some space.”
“Damn,” he mumbled, hustling to the front door. He glanced over his shoulder to make sure Cash, Bo, and Gracie were all still out of sight.
He opened the front door and—
“Holy shit,” he breathed, and all the blood in his body rushed straight to his dick. Charlotte stood in his doorway in nothing but a tiny pair of cutoff shorts, cowgirl boots, and a sexy red bra made of nothing more than a scrap of lace and a prayer.
“I was going for the cowgirl fantasy,” she said with a smile. “But say the word and I can run home and change if you’re more into the naughty schoolgirl thing.”
Oh, he was into it, and he’d take a rain check on the naughty schoolgirl thing, too. He was ready to kiss the breath out of her when tiny footsteps came bounding down the hallway.
“Here, put this on,” he said, grabbing a black-and-red flannel shirt from the hook near the door and thrust it at Charlotte.
Her eyes widened. She quickly shrugged on the shirt to cover herself. “I’m so sorry. I thought you were alone. I didn’t realize—”
“Don’t worry and don’t apologize.” His eyes roved over her, and God she looked good in his shirt. Really damn good. Even if it didn’t do much to cover those long, sexy legs. His mind wandered to what it’d be like waking up to her every morning, her sexy body wrapped in his clothes.
Gracie skipped into the living room with her pink roller skates. But then she spotted Charlotte, and a bright smile broke out across her face. “Charlie! Did you come to see me?”
Bo and Cash rounded the corner and stumbled to a stop, their eyes going wide. Yeah, that shirt really didn’t do enough to cover her legs. Tripp stepped between the guys and Charlotte and glared at the two men. Bo raised his hands and they backed up.
Charlotte just stood there, staring at the entire houseful of them.
“Um…hi?” she said, clearly unsteady.
Gracie dropped her skates and trotted over. “Are you here because you’re coming skating with me? I’ve never been skating with a lady before. Only Uncle Cash and Uncle Bo, and sometimes my friends in Girl Scouts, but you’re way more pretty.”
Tripp sighed, his grand plan good and gone. He wanted to say something, but his brain refused to spit out anything useful. He couldn’t tell Charlotte to leave—he’d invited her. He wasn’t exactly upset that she’d shown up the way she had, either. The woman was pretty, and he had plenty of ideas what he’d do with that sexy cowgirl outfit.
“I don’t have skates,” Charlotte said, “so no skating for me tonight.”
Gracie just took Charlotte’s hand and said, “That’s okay, we can stay home,” and started pulling Charlotte toward her bedroom. “I have a lot of Barbies, wanna see?”
“Honey, I don’t think Charlotte wants to stay. She just popped by to…pick up this loaf of bread,” Tripp offered, grabbing the bread he’d planned to serve and holding it out to her.
Charlotte hesitated. “Actually, I’d be happy to stay. If I’m welcome?”
Bo and Cash both piped up. “Of course you are.”
His buddies were onto him, damn it.
She smiled and Tripp groaned. He’d have to deal with the situation. How could he have been so stupid to think this plan could work? He needed to be ready to play damage control, because there was nothing casual about having Charlotte over for dinner, or her hanging out with Gracie in such a familiar manner.
But Charlotte looked at ease. Before she got pulled into Gracie’s room, she looked Tripp up and down and winked. “Looking hot, cowboy.”
He glanced down at his apron and then at the ceiling. Bo and Cash chuckled, and Tripp pinched the bridge of his nose with his moose oven mitt.
It was going to be a long night.
…
Gracie dragged Charlotte down the hall with surprising force for a first grader. Several yanks to her hand later, they made it to her bedroom where a dollhouse and several Barbies littered the floor.
Gracie instantly grabbed one and handed it to Charlotte.
“This is Miss Abigail Daisy Flower,” she said proudly, handing Charlotte the pantsless blond Barbie with a butterfly clip in her hair and rainbow shirt.
“She’s lovely,” Charlotte said, and took a seat on the floor. Gracie sat across from her, the dollhouse in between them to the right.
She paused to look Charlotte over. “That looks like my daddy’s shirt,” she said.
Charlotte had no frickin’ clue what to say to that. She’d shown up thinking Tripp would be alone, and “dinner” was just a polite way of saying he wanted to hook up. Now she was in his shirt playing Barbies and mortified about the length—or lack thereof —of her shorts.
“I was cold, so he let me borrow it,” Charlotte said, going for partial truth.
“That makes sense,” Gracie said. “Your shorts are all ripped. I bet you’re cold.”
“Yeah,” Charlotte conceded. Thankfully, Gracie didn’t press further.
“Hello, my name is Beatrice Buttercake,” Gracie said in a higher voice, wiggling her Barbie in the direction of Charlotte’s.
“Ah…hiya, Beatrice,” Charlotte tried. She’d never played Barbies before. Not as a kid and not with a kid. So she would just have to follow Gracie’s lead. “I’m Abby-Daisy, how are you today?”
“Oh, I’m fine. Just going to check on the unicorns and clean the house,” Gracie said in an exasperated sigh.
“That sounds like a lot of work,” Charlotte said, waving her Barbie toward Gracie’s. Why the hell was she doing a lower man voice? She shook her head and tried for adult woman. Which you’d think she could figure out, but somehow the Barbie had an accent of her own.
“What are you working on today?” Gracie said with her Barbie, lifting a hand.
Charlotte looked around the room and saw unicorns plastered everywhere. From posters to the bedspread, it was all unicorns.
“Oh, I am going to the office,” Charlotte said.
Gracie frowned. “What do you do at the office?”
“Build websites,” Charlotte said. Probably not the most exciting thing Gracie had ever heard of, and she hoped she wasn’t the lamest Barbie player ever, but Charlotte liked the idea of sharing this part of herself with a little girl.
Gracie blinked at her, her doll forgotten. “How do you build them?”
“Well, I get on my computer and use tools on there to design things.”
“Can I see?” Gracie asked.
“Um…” Charlotte glanced at her purse with an idea. “Sure, here.” She pulled out her phone, got on the internet, and pulled up one of the websites she’d designed earlier in the year for a lipstick line. “Here, this is a website,” she said and slid her finger over the screen to scroll up and down.
Gracie looked wide-eyed. “You made that? That’s so cool!”
Charlotte smiled. She felt cool. For the first time in a long time.
“Well, I think you’re pretty cool, too.”
Gracie was so kind, trusting. And Charlotte wanted to be a woman in her life. Whatever that meant.
“Do you have that lipstick?” she asked, looking at the phone.
“Actually, I do.” The client had sent her several samples as a thank-you. Charlotte riffled through her purse and pulled out the fire-engine-red lipstick and handed it to Gracie.
“Ooooh,” she said, opening it and rolling it all the way out and staring at the vibrant color. She handed it back to Charlotte. “Will you put it on me?”
“Of course,” Charlotte said, honest to God enjoying girl time. She didn’t have anyone she could do girlie stuff like this with. Was there even anyone back home she wanted to call since she’d arrived? No. She just worked and lived alone. Pathetic, now that she thought about it. Still, hanging out with Gracie was nice. Having the opportunity to be a good thing in the girl’s world was also nice.
“Okay, go like this…” Charlotte made an O with her lips, and Gracie mimicked her. “Good.” She applied the lipstick. “Now do this…” She rubbed her lips together, and Gracie did the same. “Oh yeah, that looks great.”
Gracie smiled and clapped. “Now you! You need some.”
Charlotte pulled out a compact from her purse and used the mirror to apply the same red to her lips. When she rubbed her lips together, she caught the reflection of the door behind her, and the towering Tripp Montgomery standing in it, watching her.
…
Tripp went to Gracie’s room to usher Charlotte out, come up with a lie why she didn’t have to stay if she looked the least bit uncomfortable or invent some sort of scheme to keep expectations at bay.
Instead, he found Charlotte on the floor, playing with his daughter. She was beautiful in his shirt, her feet bare and her hair loose. Like she’d made herself comfortable in his home. It was a good look on her, and Tripp found himself staring extra hard.
He’d never seen Gracie so happy. Granted, Tripp didn’t allow many women around her, but he’d never seen his daughter take to a woman so naturally before. Not her teachers or even her troop leader. She was connecting with Charlotte.
He should be worried.
Was.
He was worried.
But in that moment, he couldn’t remember why. Because when his baby girl and the beautiful woman with her looked at him with matching lips, all he could do was smile.
“Looks like y’all are having a good time.”
“Yes,” Gracie said with so much happiness it radiated off her. “Charlie is the best Barbie player. Her Barbies are supersmart.”
That stung a little since Tripp had held that title for the past three years, but he grinned anyway. Charlotte and her “supersmart” brain were a good influence.
“Oh yeah, and I see she’s giving you makeup.”
Charlotte mouthed “sorry” to him and shrugged like she honestly didn’t know whether that’d get her in trouble. Tripp knelt next to her and ran a hand down her back. He didn’t mind. She might not have thought of herself as the “mothering type,” but she was attentive and nurturing, whether she knew it or not.
“And we’re playing independent wooomen,” Gracie said with pizzazz in her voice. “Because women can be anything, right, Charlie?”
“That’s right,” Charlotte said.
“I see,” he said. “Well, there’s nothing wrong with a strong woman.” That was the kind of woman he was trying to raise, after all. And despite of his plans of keeping distance between her and Gracie and any expectations his daughter might wind up having…Charlotte was just that. A strong woman.
He rose to his feet and offered Charlotte a hand.
“Honey, Charlotte hasn’t eaten yet, and I made us a casserole. You wanna join us?”
“I ate at Burger Shack with the uncles,” she said, her attention on her Barbies.
“Okay, well, you play, and we’ll be in the kitchen.”
“Okay, maybe after you have supper we can watch Frozen,” she said.
Before Tripp could argue—not that he was sure he would—Charlotte beamed down at his daughter. “That would be awesome. I love Frozen.”
He led Charlotte to the table, and thankfully, Cash and Bo took a hint and got themselves gone, probably to their rooms or the barn, drinking beer and watching TV out there. He pulled out Charlotte’s chair and waited for her to slide in.
“Such manners,” she said, and took a seat. “Dinner smells great. I wasn’t sure if the invitation still stood.” She gave him a sheepish smile. “Actually, I think I had a different idea of what the invitation entailed.”
He sat across from her. “Tonight didn’t go as planned.” When she looked him in the eye, he finished with, “But judging by your outfit tonight, I like where your mind’s at.”
“I’m just surprised you actually made dinner. I figured you’d be more interested in getting straight to dessert.”
He frowned. “Well, I won’t lie to you and say that seeing you naked wasn’t on my agenda, but I meant it when I said I wanted to cook you a meal.”
“That sounds more like a date,” she said, and there was a softness in her voice.
“Yes,” Tripp said, and that one word seemed to hit her hard. She blinked, and a small smiled tugged the corner of her perfect lips.
They ate in companionable silence, smiling whenever they heard Gracie laugh or talk to herself in her room.
When their food was gone, she sighed and leaned back in her chair. He loved that she looked so sated, and that he’d been the one to put that look on her face.
“I’m glad tonight worked out,” she said. “Gracie is really a great kid.”
“Yeah, she is.”
“That’s on you, you know.”
When Tripp just looked at her, she smiled. “You’re a good dad. Takes a lot for a parent to be a parent, much less stick around, and Gracie clearly knows you love her.”
There it was. That same raw edge he’d heard in her voice that first night outside the train station. He’d have to be careful with whatever put that sad look in her eyes. “You’re taking care of Gram. Do you have other family?”
“Nope. Gone. Some a lot longer than others.”
Her expression turned shuttered. Message received. She didn’t want to talk about it. He could understand why, but he wanted to know her more. Because one thing had become very clear to him tonight.
“You made the choice to stay here in Wyoming.”
Her eyes shot to his. “What?”
“Tonight, the pear grove, the nut fry…hell, even the other night with the boots. You had choices. At any point, you could have declined an invitation, could have left, but you chose to stay. To participate. Even though I made it uncomfortable for you.”
Yeah, Tripp had gone over every hour he’d been in Charlotte’s presence, and felt bad about a lot of them. He’d been so worried about protecting Gracie that he’d been an asshole multiple times over. Didn’t give her a chance to be around him, around his daughter or friends, in any way that he didn’t instigate.
Maybe deep down, Bo had a point. He was protecting himself, too.
“The choice to stay doesn’t seem like a hard one,” Charlotte said.
“You’d think not, but it is for some.”
She looked at him for a long moment, then softly asked, “Gracie’s mom…?”
“Left. When she was a baby.”
“I’m so sorry,” she said.
“I’m not. Gracie doesn’t know any different.”
The admission sent a jolting ripple through his chest. Yes, he had known what it was like to love and trust and have it all ripped away with every step she took away from him. He knew what fear was. That he was on his own with a baby and no clue what to do with her. How to raise her. Knew that fear morphed into all the different ways he’d die before ever letting Gracie feel what he felt the day his wife left.
“Which is why I don’t introduce ladies into our lives,” he said. “Gracie and I are just fine.”
“I can see that,” Charlotte said.
He nodded, and she scooted her chair around to his side of the table and sat next to him. He faced her, wondering what she was doing, but she just sat, looking at him. She took his hand under the table and squeezed it.
“I really can see that,” she said again. “I don’t want to bring stress to your situation.”
“Oh, you’re far past that, darlin’. You stress me out exceptionally on a daily basis.”
She smiled. He tucked a lock of hair behind her ear with his free hand. Her eyes took on a misty, longing note, searching his face, landing on his mouth. He cupped the back of her head and pulled her in for a kiss. Soft and so damn good his blood went from warm to boiling in a millisecond.
“Daddy, are you ready for the movie?” Gracie yelled from her room down the hall.
Charlotte pulled away and smiled. He did, too, and reluctantly let her go back to her side of the table. He may not have the distance he’d thought he would, but he couldn’t show any feelings for Charlotte beyond platonic in front of his daughter.
And Charlotte seemed to understand it.
“We better get in there,” she said, and Tripp rose with her to head to the living room.
Gracie ran out, and within five minutes, he had a big blanket and two females snuggled up next to him on the couch. He watched a movie he’d seen a hundred times before and couldn’t be happier.
Something felt a little fuller with Charlotte on the couch, feet curled up and leaning near him. She was trying to keep her distance, just like he’d wanted, in front of Gracie. But as Gracie’s eyes slid shut, he reached under the blanket and held Charlotte’s hand.
Everything is different now…
…
Charlotte opened her eyes, her weightless body wrapped in strong arms and hard chest that smelled like spice and man and…
Tripp was carrying her.
She blinked and realized he was cradling her like she weighed no more than a doll and maneuvering down the dark hallway of his home.
“I fell asleep,” she whispered.
“I know, darlin’. I’m taking you to bed.”
“Bed?”
He gently kicked open the door of what appeared to be his room. Large king bed in the center with dark sheets and all wood furniture that looked to be made of tree trunks. It was hard to see in the dim light of the moon shining through the massive windows.
“My bed, if you’d like to stay.” He set her down on the comfy sheets.
“You want me to stay? But what about Gracie?”
“She’s asleep in her room, and I’m sure she’ll be happy to see you tomorrow morning.”
Her heart felt warm and calm. He wanted her to stay despite his strict rules, which she knew there would be. There always would be rules with Tripp. But he wanted her anyway. Tonight. In his home. In his bed.
And she wanted to be there.
Cuddling with him and Gracie on the couch had felt so good it made her eyes prick with tears. Family. Tripp had a family. The uncles and Gracie and a warm home. People around to depend on. A hometown. Familiarity. Community.
They had it all.
And they had welcomed her. And now Tripp wanted her to stay, knowing what that would mean for Gracie tomorrow.
Charlotte thought of her cold studio apartment back in the city and shivered. The land of opportunity and money and corporate success—all things she was striving for. And yet she didn’t want to leave the warm bed. Tripp’s warm bed.
Maybe she could sift through her feelings in the morning. For now, she just wanted to stay.
“I have to be home early to take care of Grammy. She wakes up around eight.”
“I’ll make sure you’re home in time.”
“Okay,” she whispered. “Then I’d like to stay.”
She saw his smile in the dim light. Felt him moving in for a kiss she’d gladly accepted. His lips were firm, yet soft. And when he threaded both hands into her hair, she felt consumed by his touch. Like he needed to feel her. Like she was wanted. Like she was a part of his world.
At least for tonight.
…
Tripp’s mind swirled with heavy thoughts, all of them good and hopeful. He kissed Charlotte, her mouth molding to his so perfectly he could lie with her for a lot longer than a night. Or a week. Or a summer.
He closed his eyes, feeling her body heat melt into his. Felt her arms wrap around him and pull him closer. He rested on top of her, gently peeling his shirt off her perfect body, tasting every inch he uncovered.
The sight of her and his baby girl sleeping next to him while the movie credits scrolled across the screen had shifted something in his chest. It felt right. He’d always had family and support. He was lucky that way. But a woman, this woman, snuggled on the couch next to Gracie while a Disney movie played in the background brought an odd sense of joy he’d never felt before.
Maybe he didn’t have to choose between being a father and being a man. Maybe he could have both. Have a woman who loved Gracie and him.
A woman like Charlotte.
They slid along each other in bed, slowly getting naked but neither of them straying too far from the other. He ran his hands from her face to her breasts, down her stomach and thighs. All that gorgeous warm skin slid against his like silk. Welcoming him. He felt her hot center pressed against his cock, and he wanted to bury himself so deep, he’d never find his way out.
He reached over to his night table to grab a condom, but got sidetracked by her perfect breasts and the nipples begging for his attention.
He sucked one pouting bud hard. Her back arched off the bed, pressing her breasts further into his mouth. Like a kid with an ice cream cone, wanting to taste her all in one gulp, Tripp sucked and licked her like the dessert she was.
She gripped the sheets, her skin heating against his. She liked her nipples worked over—he’d learned that quickly—so he gave her more, paying equal attention to the other until she panted his name.
“Need you inside me,” she breathed.
With a kiss to her sweet skin, he finally grabbed that condom he’d been searching for. Her hands stayed on his back while he sheathed himself, gently stroking his skin, like she didn’t want him to go too far. And he didn’t want to stray, either.
“Thank you for tonight,” Charlotte whispered.
He was right at her entrance, her soft inner thighs cradling him. He let some of his weight rest on her as he lowered himself, cupping his palms on either side of her head, his thumbs brushing against her temples.
“You have nothing to thank me for, darlin’.”
“I just…I enjoy being with you and Gracie.”
He smiled and kissed her. While his mouth was against hers he said, “I’m glad, because I want you here.”
He pressed himself inside her, slow, but intentional, and didn’t stop until he was snug to the hilt. Her back arched, her breasts pressed against his chest, and he felt truly home.
“You feel better every time we’re together,” he whispered, withdrawing almost to the tip, then thrusting home again.
“I love…this,” she said, and just those words hit him hard.
He knew she didn’t love him. Couldn’t possibly. But she loved being with him. Loved them together.
“I love this, too,” he said. But he wanted to say so much more.
His body was taking the lead, though, tremors shooting up his spine with every thrust and pull he gave his woman.
His woman.
The idea heated his thoughts and sent him drowning deeper into Charlotte.
Her sweeping touches turned to claws digging into his shoulders. She liked it a little rough, and so did he. Pumping in and out, he placed his fingertips at her mouth and she sucked them.
“Good girl,” he said, and took his newly wetted fingers and placed them on her clit. He thrust hard, hitting her deep. When she gasped, he stayed right there, stirring his hips while rubbing his fingers fast over her sensitive bundle of nerves.
“Tripp.” She moaned his name, and he felt her sweet heat tug at him. She was close.
“Come for me,” he begged. Because he wanted to feel it. Knew that it would be her pleasure that spiraled him into his own.
He withdrew, hammered back in, and stirred deep again. He hit that spot inside—knew it by the way she gripped him and begged for more. He drove his hips into her, circling around and around, making sure she felt him all over.
She didn’t fight him. Just clung to him. Locking her legs around his back and hugging him close. Her skin against his. She gasped, and he felt her tight sheath convulse and milk him.
And like he expected, that was his undoing.
“I love feeling you come on me,” he said, and followed her down, his own orgasm ripping from his bones and seeking only her to fall into.
He didn’t want to leave her, so he just lay in her arms, kissing her cheek, her nose, her eyelids.
“Tripp…” She whispered his name once more and it must have been a dream, because he could have sworn he heard her say “love” again.