Free Your'e Still the One by Debbi Rawlins Page A

curved in the impish smile that once meant he’d end up tongue-tied, privately cursing himself for being a fool.
    She’d always loved teasing him, and yeah, when he was a teenager she’d made him blush, which had royally pissed him off. But he’d been powerless to keep away from her. She had the kind of personality, the charismatic pull that drew people in. Her generous spirit made them want to stay. It wouldn’t surprise him if it was Rachel who’d left a string of broken hearts.
    He picked up his coffee and gestured at the kitchen table. They needed to sit down, at least he did. His body was finally getting a clue that he and Rachel weren’t headed to happy hour. Didn’t mean he was willing to test his cock’s sketchy memory.
    Taking her mug with her, she was first to sit, which allowed him to choose the chair across from her. Their knees might touch but that wouldn’t get him in trouble. The sudden confusion on her face? Different story. Yeah, maybe he owed her more of an explanation, but this wasn’t the time. Not with Nikki upstairs and Wallace likely to show up at any minute.
    Rachel sipped from the mug, watching him over the rim, her eyebrows puckered in thought. “I should go,” she said finally, and pushed back from the table. “This isn’t a good time.”
    “For you?”
    “No, for you.” She paused. “You haven’t seen your father yet, and when you do I doubt you want an audience.”
    “I saw him,” Matt said, the image of Wallace passed out on the couch still sharp in his mind.
    “Oh, last night you said...” She shook her head, looking confused. “Doesn’t matter. I must’ve misunderstood.”
    “Technically, I saw him. But we haven’t spoken. He was drunk when I got here. On his office couch, dead to the world.”
    She studied him for a moment, then let her gaze drop to her coffee. “I’m sorry. That had to be disappointing.”
    “Nope. Expected. The upside is that Nikki had a chance to get settled in peace.”
    The curiosity was back in Rachel’s eyes, and he regretted mentioning Nikki. Whether she met Wallace today or not, he’d decided to talk to her about letting him explain their relationship to Rachel. Now that she’d met the McAllisters, he hoped she’d be cool with it.
    “Look, I hope I’m not speaking out of turn,” Rachel said, lowering her voice. “But if things get uncomfortable, we have room for you and Nikki at the Sundance.”
    “Thanks. I appreciate it, but I don’t see us sticking around that long.”
    “No.” Disappointment clouded her face. “I hate that.”
    “Why?” He gave her a neutral smile, tried to sound nonchalant, even though her frank reaction turned his heart into a jackhammer.
    “You have to ask why?” She glared at him. “It’s nice seeing you again, knowing you’re okay, knowing that you haven’t gotten too big for your britches.”
    A laugh escaped him. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
    “Oh, please, you know exactly what I’m talking about. Trace said you have the second-best bull riding record in the country.”
    “Nice of Trace to be keeping track of my career.”
    She sniffed. “I never followed rodeo so I didn’t know—”
    “That wasn’t a jab. I meant it sincerely.” He shrugged. “I like your brothers. I wish I’d known them better when I was younger.”
    “I know.” She smiled sadly. “Your father, he doesn’t have many fans but—”
    “Don’t worry about him,” Matt cut in, hearing the bitter edge to his own voice. “He knows how to buy loyalty.”
    The sympathy in Rachel’s eyes pissed him off almost as much as his own careless slip. No, it wasn’t a slip. Wrong word, because he didn’t care. He felt no love or hate for Wallace; he felt nothing but indifference. And he doubted Wallace remembered he had a son. It seemed a convenient habit for the man to forget he had offspring.
    “Look.” Rachel reached across the table to cup her hand over the fist he’d made without realizing.