A Bride for Jericho Bravo Page 11

  She was looking for him, too. He knew because he caught her at it, checking through the sliding window at the same time he was, glancing away fast when their eyes met. That brought him a little thrill of satisfaction, to know she wasn’t as uninterested as she kept trying to pretend.

  About then he decided he’d had enough of this crap. It wasn’t like they had forever, after all. Their time together was seriously finite and she had wasted a whole damn night that they might have spent together, sulking over his not being willing to take her to Mary’s damn cookbook party.

  Uh-uh. He was done with playing this game. He was having it out with her and he was doing it now. He put away the tools he’d been using and washed the grease off his hands. And then he went up front, where, for once, there was no one at the counter and she was sitting behind Desiree’s desk, doing some damn thing or other at the computer.

  He marched over to the edge of her desk.

  At least she had the grace to admit he was there. She tipped her head back so she could see him from under the bill of her hat. “What?”

  “I want to talk with you.”

  “Oh. Well. Right now, I’m working. I have a break at—”

  He put up a hand. When she stopped talking, he went over and tapped on Gus’s door.

  Gus called, “It’s open.”

  So he stuck his head in there. “Can you handle the counter for a few minutes?”

  “Sure.”

  “Great. We won’t be long.”

  “Hey.” Gus showed him those perfect white teeth. “Take your time.”

  Marnie was already on her feet.

  Jericho said, “Up to my workshop. Now,” and walked right past her without stopping or glancing back to see if she followed.

  She did. They went through the main shop and up the steel stairway.

  He indicated the daybed when they got to the top, offering a seat. She shook her head, so they ended up standing by his drawing table, staring at each other.

  Down below, it was suspiciously quiet for a moment. But then someone got to work pounding metal and an ancient Led Zeppelin song started playing.

  She just stood there, looking at him, her chin aimed high and her eyes shooting blue sparks.

  He rubbed the back of his neck. “Look…” He let the word draw out. Most women would take over talking if a guy just made a noise or two.

  But Marnie wasn’t most women. She kept on glaring at him, her arms at her sides. She didn’t say a word.

  “What do you want from me?” There. He’d asked a question. That ought to do it.

  But she only pressed her fine lips together and shrugged.

  Okay, he had no idea how to proceed with her. “I’m sorry, all right? I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings.”

  She lifted her chin a fraction higher. That was all.

  “Or piss you off,” he added, just in case it was more that than the other.

  She still refused to move or speak.

  He stepped in closer, to see if she’d flinch back. Of course she didn’t. She wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction. Because he was there, so near to her, he sucked in a slow breath through his nose. Clean as rain, fresh as apples. Hey. If she wasn’t going to speak to him, at least he could have the pleasure of smelling her.

  A long moment elapsed. He breathed her in and she stood there staring up at him, refusing to move or to speak, her face cold, closed to him.

  And that, her coldness, that really got to him. She’d been mad at him and scared of him. She’d laughed with him and yelled at him. She’d shed a tear for him when he told her about Karen’s death. And she’d crawled all over him, moaning, driving them both crazy.

  But never, until that moment, had she ever shown him a cold face.

  That cold face infuriated him—had the blood buzzing in his veins like a hive of freaked-out bees. That cold face spurred him.

  And he went too far.

  He lifted a hand and flipped the bill of her hat by launching his middle finger off his thumb.

  The hat jumped off her head and dropped to the floor. Her hair, loose now, fell around her shoulders, crackling with static.

  She spoke then, at last. “That was just really rude.” Her voice was low, carefully controlled.

  “I’m a rude guy.”

  “I’m going now.” She bent, scooped up her hat and headed for the stairs.

  “Marnie.”

  She stopped without turning. He knew, absolutely, by the set of her shoulders, by the proud, stiff way she carried herself, that this was going to be it. If he didn’t do something to make things right, it was over with them.

  He wouldn’t get those few weeks with her. He would get nothing from her beyond cool politeness and a distant glance.

  And that seemed…impossible. And wrong. Way wrong.

  It hurt him, just to think of it. And from now on, he’d better stay aware of what he really wanted here, better cut the crap and keep his eye on the prize.

  Because he wanted those weeks. He wanted them real bad. Enough that he was willing to do what he had to do to make sure he got them.

  “Marnie, will you be my date to Ash’s damn charity ball? And will you let me take you to Mary’s party tonight?”

  She turned back to him then. But her face was blank, giving him nothing.

  He went all the way. “Please.”

  Only then, at last, did she allow him a nod. “Pick me up at six tonight.”

  “I’ll be there.”

  She nodded again. For a moment that felt like a knife slicing in, all the way to the heart, she stared at him intently. He dared to think she might stay awhile, that they could talk—really talk, not just throw angry words into the echoing space between them.

  But then she seemed to shake herself. She whirled away and disappeared down the stairs.

  Chapter Nine

  That evening, Marnie half expected him to be late—or even not to show. She wasn’t completely sure that she wanted him to show.

  No. That was a lie. She did want to see him. But she was angry with him. She wanted a hell of a lot more from him than he’d given her that afternoon.

  When he got there right on time, she was more than little surprised. She kept her expression carefully composed as she opened the door to him and she spoke with little inflection. “Come in, please.”

  He did what she told him to do, stepping warily over the threshold. “You look good,” he said in a careful tone.

  She’d chosen her skinny pants, red platform peekaboo heels and silk blouse with care. “Thanks.” He looked good, too. Freshly shaved in new jeans and a nice shirt. But she didn’t compliment him. Right then, she was in no mood to start trading admiring remarks. “Want a beer?”

  “I’m thinking we should probably go.”

  “Go.” She made a face like the word tasted bad.

  “Yeah. Go. Isn’t that what you wanted? To go.”

  “All of a sudden, you can’t wait to get to Mary’s?”

  He stuck his hands in his back pockets and looked at the floor. “You’re still pissed at me.”

  She remembered the hard things he’d revealed to her the other night and her resentment faded a little. “I’m just confused, I guess. You don’t want to be seen with me—but you can’t stay away? What’s that about? It doesn’t seem like anything good.”

  He lifted his head then and met her eyes directly. “I got no problem being seen with you. I’m proud to be seen with you.”

  “Coulda fooled me.”

  He rubbed the back of his neck. “It’s the family, okay?”

  “What about them?”

  “Listen. Do we have to go into this now?”

  “Yeah, I think we do.”

  He turned away from her and seemed to be looking out the glass door, toward the pool. Or maybe toward the main house. At least when he spoke, he did it clearly so she had no trouble hearing every word. “You know how it is in a big family. Somebody has to be the problem child, the one who nev
er gets it right. In my family, we don’t have a lot of losers.”

  She cut in strongly, “You are not a loser.”

  “No. What I am is an ex-con. That’s about as far from ‘right’ as a guy can get in a family like mine.”

  She stared at his broad back and the remnants of her fury with him shriveled up and crumbled to dust. She only wanted to wrap her arms around him, only wanted to speak up on his behalf, to point out how great he was doing now, to tell him he should move on, leave the past behind, that she really did believe his family already had.

  Instead, she asked, “You think they’ll judge you, is that it? That they’ll be after you, on your case, for getting involved with me?”

  He turned back to her then. “Ash already has—on both counts.”

  “But you worked it out with him.”

  “We called a truce. That’s not what I would call working it out. And as for the rest of them, I don’t know what they’ll do. And maybe that’s it. I don’t want to know what they’ll do. Or what they’ll say.”

  She held his gaze and spoke gently. “Well. I guess I do get it.”

  His green eyes softened. He scanned her face. “You do?”

  “Hey. I ran all the way to Texas to avoid dealing with whatever reaction my family might have to my breakup with Mark.”

  “Uh-uh. Wait a minute. This is different. You know that.”

  “All I’m telling you is that my parents surprised me. They were sympathetic. Even my interfering grandpa was okay with it. I see now that they love me and accept me and I can stop making up stuff in my head about the way they think of me.”

  “Running away because some idiot dumped you is not the same as going to prison for grand theft auto.”

  Cautiously, she put up a hand.

  He glared. “What?”

  “We need to get something clear here. About Mark?”

  “What? That you’re still in love with him? I know that.”

  She spoke more softly. “What I was going to say is that Mark is not an idiot.”

  “I know that, too,” Jericho said bitterly. “Mark’s a nice, normal, solid, stable guy.”

  “He is, actually.”

  “But he also dumped you. And that makes him an idiot in my book.”

  Well, all right. That was very nice to hear. She wanted to grin—but she didn’t. “On second thought, you have a point. Mark was an idiot for dumping me. But otherwise, he is the most un-idiotic person I know.”

  He shrugged. “Can we get back to the main point here?”

  “Of course.”

  “You have to admit that your situation and mine aren’t the same.”

  “No. They’re not. But you have to admit, there are certain similarities.”

  “Yeah, all right. We both have family issues. Yours are mostly in your head. Mine are real.”

  She only looked at him. Patiently.

  He started on about Ash again. “Look what happened with Ash. He got right on my ass when he heard that I spent the night with you.”

  “Only because my sister pushed him into it and Ash will do anything for Tessa.”

  “He still doesn’t like it. He made that all too clear. He thinks I’m taking advantage of you in your…emotionally weakened state.”

  She braced her fists on her hips. “Do I look to you like I’m in a weakened state?”

  “No, not to me. Not anymore. But apparently, to Ash, you do.”

  Was she offended? Not really. So far, she hadn’t shown Ash a whole lot of mental competence. “Give him time. Ash’ll get over it. And if he doesn’t, well, that’s his problem, not yours.”

  When he spoke again, it was without anger or bitterness. “You make it all sound so…workable.”

  She sent him a sideways glance. “As in, who knew Tessa’s crazy sister could be so reasonable?”

  A smile was trying to lift the corner of his mouth, although he didn’t quite let it. Softly, he echoed, “Yeah. Who knew?”

  They spent maybe twenty seconds just looking at each other. She thought how she liked his straight eyebrows and his mouth that usually looked grim but occasionally curved in a way that was all the more attractive for being so reluctant. She thought how she really would like to kiss him. After all, she had been more than a little worried that they weren’t going to work this problem out, that she would never kiss him again.

  He said, “When you look at me like that, I get hopeful. I get the feeling you’re going to forgive me for being an ass.”

  “I get that feeling, too.” She narrowed her eyes at him. “But don’t you ever mess with my hat again.”

  He put up a hand, palm flat. “I swear. Never again.”

  “Well, all right, then.”

  They gazed at each other some more. Funny, how just looking at him got her hot. She thought of the things they had done together night before last, and the night before that. She thought, again, of kissing him. His kisses were magic. They set her on fire. She thought about skipping Mary’s party after all.

  He must have been thinking along the same lines, because he said, “We should go now. Or we’ll end up finding something better to do…”

  She knew he was right. And as much as she wanted to pick up where they’d left off Thursday night, she didn’t want to miss the family party. Especially not considering that she’d almost broken it off with him for refusing to go with her.

  So she grabbed her purse off the coffee table and gestured him out the door ahead of her.

  The renovated ranch house at the Lazy H overflowed with people.

  Party guests spilled out onto the wide front porch. People stood chatting by the porch railing. They sat in the row of white wooden porch chairs. And when the porch itself couldn’t hold them all, they perched on the steps. They called out greetings as Jericho and Marnie emerged from one of Jericho’s custom cars. He passed the key to a cowboy who was playing valet.

  Marnie took his arm. “I’m really glad we came.”

  He didn’t say anything, but he did glance down at her with a look that almost seemed affectionate. And then he laid his big hand over hers, a fond sort of touch. Anyone who glanced their way would know they were together.

  Marnie felt really good about that.

  Jericho’s half sister, Elena, was sitting in a white wooden rocker not far from the steps. Elena had long, thick brown hair threaded with gold and red and big golden-brown eyes. She waved as they climbed the steps. “Hey, Rico.”

  He stopped long enough to introduce her to Marnie.

  “Glad you made it,” Elena said. “Everyone’s here. All our brothers and sisters. With their wives and their children and more than a few in-laws, not to mention a large number of family friends.”

  Mary Bravo greeted them at the door. “Jericho, I’m so happy you came.” She told Marnie how pleased she was to meet her, then took her hand and led her over to a table stacked with copies of the newly released Bravo Family Cookbook. A sign on the table read Take One. “I want everyone in the family to have a copy.” Proudly, she handed one to Marnie.

  Marnie admired the cover. It was charmingly done. The green-and-white checked design framed a sepia-tinted picture of the ranch house at Bravo Ridge. Inside, it was ring-binder style, so you could add or remove pages. Marnie flipped through it, exclaiming over the great photos of the Bravo family. Tessa was in several of the pictures.

  “Your sister provided more than one recipe,” Mary said, turning for the door again where another late arrival had just appeared.

  The cookbook covered a wide range of different foods and cooking styles. Everything from how to roast a whole pig in a barbecue pit to the world’s best tuna casserole to duck with raspberries. As Marnie flipped through it, she spotted Jericho in a couple of the group pictures, sitting at dining room tables with the rest of the Bravos. She thought he looked way too serious and maybe a little uncomfortable. There was one, at Christmas in the dining room at Bravo Ridge, where he smiled. But it was a forced smile, a say chees
e kind of smile.

  “Zoe took all the pictures,” Jericho said from close behind her.

  She could feel the warmth of his big body so close, and his breath stirred her hair. Desire whispered through her. “I can’t believe Mary’s giving these away.”

  “I think that was Gabe’s idea. He bought a couple hundred of them to pass around when Mary told him she wished she could give a copy to everyone who contributed.”

  “Did you contribute?”

  “Are you kidding? No one in the family escaped Mary’s nagging to be part of it. I’m in the barbecue section. It just so happens, I grill a mean burger.”

  Marnie was staring at a mouth-watering photo of sliced herbed prime rib. “Now I’m getting hungry.” She set it back on the table, figuring Jericho would pick up his copy on the way out.

  He already had hold of her hand and was pulling her toward the kitchen. She laughed and let him drag her along, loving the feel of his strong fingers wrapped around hers.

  In the big kitchen, with its country-white cabinets and wood and granite countertops, there was food on every available surface. They grabbed plates and filled them, then moved on to the dining area, which was serving as the beverage station. They got a couple of beers and went out on the back patio to eat.

  Tessa and Ash were out there. Jericho tried to go the other way, but Marnie nudged him with her elbow.

  “What?”

  “Let’s sit over there, with Tessa and Ash. They have room at their table.”

  “I don’t want any trouble.”

  “I’m sure Ash doesn’t either. Come on…”

  He didn’t look happy, but he did follow her over.

  “Can we join you?” she asked with a bright smile for both her sister and Ash.

  Tessa beamed right back. “Absolutely.”

  Ash’s expression gave nothing away. “Why not?”

  Marnie and Jericho took the empty seats.

  Tessa went on beaming. “I’m so glad you two made it,” while Ash made a low noise that could have meant anything.