A Wild Ride (Thompson & Sons Book 4) (7 page)

It meant she had time to wander down the sidewalk and window shop. Peek in at the shoe store. Slip into the hardware store and buy a lawn sprinkler/soaker hose thing for her nephews to enjoy over the summer.

She paused outside the Stitching Post Quilting Shop, staring at the display in the window of summer-toned baby quilts with appliqued teddy bears and brightly coloured balloons.

The last time she’d sewn was years ago in Home Ec, and she’d gotten a B minus on her sturdy cotton apron. No way should she be tempted to buy anything that required more handwork than a stapler or duct tape could solve.

She turned toward the street, a strange itch between her shoulders. As if she was being watched…

It had to be her imagination. Nicole shook it off and decided she might as well give in. She slipped into the store, a small chime overhead announcing her arrival.

Warm colours greeted her, along with two smiling faces, one familiar, one not.

“Hi, Nic.” Hope Coleman rose from where she was cutting out large circles of fabric, and the dark-haired stranger moved to take her place. “Are you here to pick up Jodie’s purse? She forgot it last night after the quilting session.”

“I wasn’t, but I can take it. I’ll drop it off on my way to lunch.”

Hope disappeared into a small room off the back, returning with a well-worn and very sturdy purse the size of a grocery shopping bag.

Nic laughed. “How on earth did Jodie forget she had that with her?”

“You’d be amazed what gets left behind at the end of an evening.” Hope offered a smile. “So, if that’s not what brought you in, are you looking for something specific?”

“Not sure.” Awkward. “What’s the simplest baby quilt you’ve got?”

Hope crooked a finger her way. “Come with me, my pretty. I’ve got just the thing for you.”

“You’re scaring me,” Nicole warned, both of them laughing.

The bell rang again, and they turned to the door. Troy Thompson strolled in as if him fabric shopping was the most natural thing in the world. His gaze drifted over the store content until it landed on her and Hope, his face brightening as if he’d won the lottery.

“Well, what a surprise.”

“To find Hope in her quilt shop?” Nicole deadpanned. “Nice try, Thompson.”

“Hush,” Hope mock whispered. “What’s up, Troy?”

“Looking for a…what did you call it last time? A ragtime quilt kit.”

Hope’s face lit up. “Another one?”

“Yup.”

She looked delighted, as if what he’d said made any sense in English, motioning with her head toward the far side of the store. “This way.”

He followed obediently, and Nicole found herself admiring the way he prowled through the tall narrow shelves, long and lean as he closed the distance between them.

Hope had vanished by the time he reached her side, and Nicole stood there, mesmerized, staring into Troy’s face. His laughing eyes flashed, a hint of shadow darkening his jawline.

“You didn’t shave.” What a stupid comment to make. Why had she even noticed?

“Nope.” He caught her hand and rubbed her knuckles against his scruff. “Like it?”

She snatched her hand away. “No.”

Yes
.
Oh God, yes
.

Her body buzzed, the desire to have him rub his face all over her naked skin far too strong.

“Nic. You come as well. This is what I was going to show you.”

Hope’s words made her blink, breaking the siren spell he’d cast over her. Troy just smiled his wicked, tempting smile and motioned her forward.

Somehow she ended up leaving the shop with a kit to make a baby quilt. A matching one to what Troy had purchased after talking knowledgeably with Hope about seam allowances and backstitching.

Nicole felt a little dazed. Maybe she hadn’t slept as well last night as she’d thought.

“How do you know so much about quilting?” she demanded.

Troy shrugged. “Hope gave us lessons a few years back—the year she set up the charity-quilt thing. Even my dad chipped in.”

“And now you quilt just for shits and giggles?”

He laughed. “No. The last time Katy got pregnant I saw her eyeing these things and figured it was a shiny enough gift for the auspicious occasion.”

Nicole eyed him, gears turning, not quite believing it. “You made a quilt.”

“Uh-huh. It’s pretty simple. I can give you a hand with yours, if you want. Sounds as if Cyndi and Katy are expecting about the same time.”

Now it made more sense. “You’re making another quilt because Katy’s pregnant.”

One of his brows rose. “You feeling okay?”

No, now that he mentioned it. She was confused, and annoyed, and the proud owner of a bunch of material she was pretty much obligated to struggle with sometime over the next eight months.

Life was peachy.

“You want to grab a bite?” Troy asked, tossing his shopping bag into the back of his truck, which was parked right outside the shop.

Nicole shook her head, walking quickly toward the flower shop. “I’m headed to Cyndi’s.”

“Pass on my congrats,” he said. “What about supper?”

She jerked to a stop, turning to look him over carefully. “What is
wrong
with you?”

“Nothing.” His smile widened. “Want me to prove it?”

Jeez, she’d walked into that one. Nicole pinched the bridge of her nose. “Troy, we’re not doing this. It’s over.”

“That’s what you said before. I enjoyed it being
over
. I look forward to it being
over
again, since ‘over’ is your new code word for sex.”

“It’s not a code word for anything, you
jackass
,” she shouted, pulling back in time before she swung her quilt kit at his head. She whirled on her heel and took off, not trusting herself to say anything more without shrieking.

Of course he followed. She couldn’t get away from him, even if she tried.

He would have followed her into the flower shop except she deliberately pulled him to the side to try one last time. “Troy. Last night was…”

He opened his mouth, and she pressed a finger over his lips.

“No. No talking.”

He tried a slow, burning smolder instead.

Nicole prayed for patience. “No trying to seduce me. And no licking my finger,” she said even as his lips opened.

He smiled wryly. “You’re no fun today.”

See
, her brain pounced on his announcement.
Told you. Boring.

Shut up, shut up, shut up.

She took a deep breath. “I had a blast last night, but it’s not going to happen again. I mean it, so you need to move on and get out of my face.”

He stood there like a muscular wall, looking down at her with those dark eyes that were far too astute—seeing clear inside her to where confusion continued to roil.

This needed to happen. The weight of the bag in her hands steadied her resolve. If she wanted someone to eventually make a baby quilt for
her
, she needed to leave her wild ways behind.

“Please.” She sounded desperate, even to her own ears, but she didn’t know what else to say.

His smile faded, and the teasing, tormenting Troy vanished. He looked as serious as she’d ever seen him.

Silence hung on the air between them, then he dipped his chin. “Okay. Okay, you’re right. I’ll see you ’round.”

His fingers ghosted over her cheek, a soft, lingering caress a second before he turned and walked away.

It should have felt like a victory, but she had no energy to cheer. Something inside her seemed to have broken, and sharp edges were poking into her gut, making it tough to breathe.

Brilliant
, her brain taunted.

She didn’t have the energy to tell herself to shut up.

The next week disappeared, and the next, although Troy would have been hard-pressed to give an account of what he’d done during the time.

No. He would have to admit to one thing. He’d found himself far too often doing a one-eighty when he discovered himself seconds away from interrupting Nicole.

He had a damn GPS tracker magically keyed in on her location. It was the most annoying thing in the world to turn the corner at the grocery store and discover her leaning a hip against the freezer compartment, chatting with some guy.

And every time he walked away, it left a foul taste in his mouth.

Didn’t matter if he spotted her doing something that made sense, like when he pulled into the gas station and found her getting help checking her tire pressure. It was completely above board for her to be wandering after Damon Jules, the thirty-something dude who owned the station, as he explained how to use the pressure gauge.

Although she should have just come down to the shop and let him or his brothers take care of it…

Troy focused on the rapidly clicking gas meter, ignoring the flirting going on twenty feet away from him. Damon was an okay guy, he guessed. Older. Serious. Ready to settle down, probably.

Only as far as Troy knew, Damon wasn’t much in the smarts department. Also, old
old
fashioned, as in he’d once made a comment about women and “their place” in the home. And while Nic might be looking to start a family, Troy couldn’t picture her being happy doing nothing but housekeeping and cooking for a husband who planned to come home at the end of every day, put his feet up and spend all evening watching TV.

That was the worst part. Bumping into her all the time meant he saw the guys she was dating, and none of them were right for her. Not that there was a huge selection of possibilities in the small town.

He sat in the café across from Mike, wondering if
any
guy in Rocky was good enough for her.

“You look like you’re going to get sick,” his friend taunted. “Doesn’t say much for the daily special.”

“It’s from having to stare at your ugly mug,” Troy retorted. “That’s a pretty sour expression you’re wearing.”

Mike offered a twisted smile. “Nic’s driving me mad.”

Good to know he wasn’t the only one. “What’s she done now?”

His friend hesitated. “I hate the guys she’s seeing, but it’s reaching the point I can’t keep interfering. Last night she threatened to castrate me.”

“That’s nothing new.”

“She was holding a butcher knife when she said it,” Mike offered wearily. “Life was so much easier before she got on this dating kick.”

Troy agreed one hundred percent.

“I guess it’s time for me to let her be in charge.” Mike stirred another spoonful of sugar into his coffee. “She’ll figure it out. She’s smart enough to know who’s good for her.”

Everything in Troy itched to deny it based solely on the guys he’d seen her with lately.

“Maybe she needs to sign up for one of those online dating places,” Mike commented. “Would give her some—”

“Are you out of your freaking mind?” Troy demanded. “Have you seen the kind of bullshit that goes on in those places? You really want her getting pictures of guys’ junk from all over the country?”

Mike glared at him. “Not everyone online is an asshole.”

“I thought you were trying to protect her, not hook her up with some ax murderer.”

“I think they screen out the ax murderers,” Mike deadpanned.

The idea made his skin crawl. “Still think it’s a bad idea.”

“I know.” His friend nodded. “You’re right.”

The conversation lingered in his brain far too long. Even a day later when he was at the shop working with Mitch, he was still trying to come up with the answer.

Where could Nicole find someone good enough for her?

“Are you planning to stand there all day staring at that wrench, or can you get your ass over here and put it to work?”

Troy shook himself alert, glancing over at his brother who was smirking in his direction. “Sorry.”

Mitch frowned. “You feeling okay?”

“Fine, why?”

Mitch took the wrench from him then leaned over to loosen the bolts. “You’re not nearly as talkative as usual.”

“Lot on my mind.”

His brother didn’t say anything for a second. “Something wrong?”

Everything. Nothing.

Troy ignored the dilemma of Nicole for a moment, and instead gave voice to one of his other concerns. “Is everything okay between you and Anna?”

Mitch twisted the wrench harder than he should have and swore as the bolt snapped in two. The shaft remained jammed in position while the head fell to the concrete floor with a metallic rattle. “Shit. Get me a pair of pliers.”

Troy grabbed the tool, bumping his brother out of the way. “Let me get this. I’ve got a more subtle touch,” he taunted.

“You keep telling yourself that,” Mitch muttered.

“So, you and Anna?”

Mitch said nothing for a minute.

“Your Len impression is good,” Troy said. “Only he doesn’t glower as hard as you.”

“Shithead.”

“Ass.” The insults were as natural as breathing and calmed the waters. Troy had been worried since he’d caught them fighting. “You going to tell me what’s up?”

Mitch checked around the shop, but the other guys were either outside the open bay doors or in the main office. “She’s being stubborn over something important.”

“She’d hardly be stubborn over something stupid,” Troy pointed out. “She’s smarter than that.”