Free Rocky Mountain Desire: Six Pack Ranch, Book 3 by Vivian Arend Page B

a damn fool, he slipped into the empty seat across from her. That at least put the table between them so he wouldn’t do anything stupid like dragging her from her chair and into his arms. “Just getting in some relaxation before the winter lambs start arriving. How are you?”
    She leaned back, her uncomfortable expression twisting with amusement, and he realized he’d repeated himself. “Just fine. Not much changed since two seconds ago. Or since I saw you last week. Life’s not that interesting.”
    Something had changed. Last week she hadn’t been in Clay’s arms. “Didn’t mean…yeah. Well. I guess I meant more… I mean.”
    If he could have faded into the background, he would have. This frantic fumbling was not like him, but it seemed when it came to Hope, he had no style. He was so busy trying not to stare at the way her soft blue shirt stretched over her full breasts he didn’t quite know where to look.
    “Hey. I wanted to tell you that timer on the thermostat? Wonderful invention.” She must have felt sorry for him. There was no other reason for her to actually be nice and try to put him at ease. “I’ve managed to adjust the times so the furnace is running at high for fewer hours, but the shop is toasty when I open in the morning.”
    Matt grinned. “Yeah, it might take a long time to heat up a space that big, but the heat lingers, so you can turn it off a couple hours before you close and no one will notice.”
    Their conversation was inconsequential. Furnaces and quilt shops, and he still fought his attraction. Talking about rising heat—the irony wasn’t lost on him.
    He was so distracted by her blue eyes he didn’t see Clay return.
    “You’re in my seat,” Clay growled.
    Matt stared up at a wall. He wasn’t a small man himself, from working the land for years, but Clay was a bloody monster. “Resting my feet for a minute and saying hello.”
    He rose. Clay stared daggers at him. Neither of them said anything, but the tension was there.
    “I’ll be right back.” Hope escaped her chair and raced away. She was halfway to the bathroom in no time, and guilt hit Matt. It was as if she was fleeing from them.
    “What the hell foolishness you working, Coleman?” Clay pushed Matt aside.
    “Nothing. Honest.” Just being a stupid shit. Matt shrugged. “Thought I’d say hello and make sure she was okay. I pulled her from the car the other night.”
    “She’s fine. Now that you’ve said hi, you can go find somewhere else to take a break.”
    Matt nodded and backed off. There was no reason for him to be defensive. No right to be worried about Hope and what she was doing with Clay.
    The section of the bar where he’d sat with his kin was deserted. Gabe and Travis were both on the floor happily dancing with the ladies. Matt ordered a second drink and steadfastly ignored everything but taking measured sips from his bottle.
    Especially paying no heed to the part that wished he were the one tucking Hope up against him and holding on tight.

Chapter Seven
     
    For a Tuesday morning, the shop was crazy busy. Hope hurried to enter another sale before turning to help find some last-minute items for a gift. Sweet relief accompanied the rush—she was going to survive her first Christmas season and make the required profit to fill in the gaps from the first lean months.
    She smoothed her hair as she passed the tiny mirror on the wall between the register and the sales floor. Her cheeks were bright red from moving around rapidly, but it was the fact her smile was real that made up for a lot of her previous stress.
    Maybe this solo-ownership thing was going to work. First anniversary wasn’t until May, but if she was careful she’d make it through okay, in spite of having Helen ditch her.
    “Are you out of bright cherry-red piping?” Two customers waited beside the cutting table and Hope raced over to help them.
    “There’s more in the back. Is that all you need? Because if you have other items to