From This Moment On

17



NIKKI WAS STARTING to get cold feet. Every time the door opened, dread kicked up another notch and she couldn’t be sorrier she’d made that deal with Karina. So much had changed between Nikki and Trace since the night she’d thought Karina was trying to pick him up. He wouldn’t think the woman’s real proposal was funny, and now neither did Nikki. Oh, he might’ve been a good sport had Karina approached him at the Sundance or in private. But here at the Watering Hole in front of Sam and the others, he wouldn’t be amused.

In the three days since the will had been read, Nikki still hadn’t completely made up her mind about whether to accept Wallace’s money but it no longer ate at her. The more time she spent with Trace, the more she saw the appeal of sticking around, at least until she figured out for sure what she wanted to do with the rest of her life.

Truthfully, the thought of leaving him behind was hard to contemplate. At least for now, when things felt so right. She’d been enjoying her hot nights and jam-packed days with him too much. He’d even coaxed her on top of Gypsy for ten whole minutes yesterday.

While she had time between customers, she washed mugs, ordering herself not to check the clock. Again. When her mind occasionally drifted to the decision she had to make, she always seemed to hear Trace’s voice telling her not to let Wallace win. Matt’s solution was for her to sign over her share, accept the money and then he’d reverse the process the very next day.

It took a few seconds to realize her phone had buzzed. It was Trace. She saw that Karina was busy studying the jukebox, and Nikki motioned to let Sadie know she had to step outside for a minute. She answered on her way to the door. It opened and Trace entered, grinning, his cell phone pressed to his ear.

“I miss you,” he said, to which she responded with a groan and “You big dope.”

His laugh drew Karina’s attention. Great. Too late for Nikki to drag him outside. She sighed and nodded at an older cowboy signaling for a pitcher refill.

Trace followed her to the bar and grabbed a stool while she slipped around to the other side. “Come on.” Staring at her, his grin faltered. “You can’t be mad.”

“No, but you might be.” While filling the pitcher, she looked past him and watched Karina close in.

“Why?” He started to turn his head, caught a glimpse of Karina and snapped back to face the bar.

“I leave tomorrow, cowboy.” Karina slid onto the empty stool beside him. “Last chance for me to buy you a drink.”

“No, thanks. Just came by to visit Nikki.”

Karina smiled at her. “You know how to make an appletini or should I wait for Sadie?”

“I can manage,” she said.

Karina waited until Nikki started on her appletini, then turned to Trace. “I have a business proposition for you.”

He lifted a brow. “A what?”

“A business proposition. This has been a working vacation for me. A scouting trip.” Karina reached into the neckline of her low-cut blouse and brought out a business card. She passed it to Trace.

He seemed reluctant to accept it. Finally he did, then frowned at the writing. “Okay,” he said, drawing out the word.

“My company is staging a campaign to find a cowboy to be the face of our latest line of fragrances.”

“Why are you telling me?” Trace narrowed his gaze on Karina, but not before glancing around.

“I think you’d have a great shot at it. We’re doing something fun and different to engage consumers in the selection process. We’re streamlining the list of candidates by making a calendar and—”

“Hold on right there.” He lowered his voice and slid a quick look to his left, then at the door when it creaked open. “I’m not interested,” he said quietly, putting down her card by her drink.

Nikki’s breath caught. He looked so embarrassed and she hated, hated that she’d played any part in this. How could she have thought this was funny? A week ago she’d barely known him. Not the real Trace. She’d stubbornly clung to a stereotype she’d adopted the first night she’d met him in February. It was different now. She knew better, but he was going to be mad and she couldn’t blame him.

Karina started in again, trying to convince him with flattery and large sums of money. Trace, without being rude, tried his best to get her to tone it down. The few folks sitting at nearby tables had turned toward them, their curiosity piqued. Even Sadie had moved closer.

Nikki cleared her throat. “Karina, it’s not going to happen. You’ll have to find someone else.”

The woman swung her a disappointed frown. “You were supposed to help convince him. Thanks for nothing.”

Trace stared at Nikki. His expression of disbelief branded her a traitor.

“I need to explain,” she said.

“You sure do.” He surprised her with a short laugh. “A calendar?”

“Yes.” Karina clearly misread his reaction and jumped back in. “You’d be perfect as Mr. March.”

Trace shook his head, his lips pressed thin. “She’s right. Not gonna happen.”

The woman sighed, but seemed otherwise unfazed. She took a final sip of her drink, reached into her cleavage again, then laid a ten on the bar. “Keep my card in case you change your mind. I may come back through Montana next month.” She got off the stool, paused to tilt her head and study him a moment. “Maybe Mr. July. Tight button-fly jeans, no shirt, behind you a spray of fireworks against the night sky.”

Nikki pressed her own lips together to keep from laughing at the look of astonishment on Trace’s face. It really wasn’t funny, and she was so lucky he didn’t seem furious with her.

“Think about it.” Karina shrugged, gave him a saucy wink and walked off.

“Mr. July,” Trace muttered. “Shit.”

A hand from the Lone Wolf called out, “Oh, Mr. July,” in a high-pitched voice and earned a glare from Nikki that shut him right up. The laughter that followed was predictable, but Trace ignored it all.

“So you were in cahoots with her,” he said, and there was a hint of hurt in his eyes. “That’s surprising.”

“Oh. No. It’s not like that.” Nikki took a deep breath. “When she explained why she was here, I thought it was funny and asked to be there when she told you. I barely knew you then.” She leaned on the bar and almost took his hand before she stopped herself. “I forgot all about it until today. I was going to warn you. That’s why I left a message.”

“I guess I blew that part.” He moved his hand closer to hers. They weren’t touching, but they might as well have been.

“Thanks for not being mad,” she said, still amazed he hadn’t even raised his voice. “Even though you had every right.”

“I’m a pretty laid-back guy. Usually willing to hear someone out.” Smiling, he leaned closer. “Or let her make it up to me.”

Nikki let out a loud laugh that drew more than a few looks. She didn’t care, and it seemed that neither did Trace. But then she noticed a customer waving his empty mug at her and she straightened with a sigh. “I have to get back to work.”

“Well that sucks.” Trace let his gaze slide down her body as though he had much better plans for her.

“Stop it right now, McAllister,” she warned, and picked up her tray as she came around the bar.

The door creaked open as it had a dozen times in the past hour. Normally she ignored it unless she was expecting Trace. She didn’t know what made her look now, but she turned, and felt the blood drain from her face.

Luis.

How? He was supposed to be in Houston. It wasn’t possible that he could be here. Her mother promised she hadn’t told him where Nikki was living.

His dark hair was shorter and he wore nice jeans, not his usual baggy ones. The blue knit shirt was not his style, and didn’t hide the tattoo sleeve that crawled from his wrist up the side of his neck. He couldn’t have looked more out of place.

Her feet felt like lead weights. She couldn’t seem to move, only watch his gaze pan the room and wait for him to get to her. Her tray was still loaded and she needed to set it down or risk spilling everything.

Luis finally spotted her. She found no relief in the faint curve of his mouth. A smile could go either way with him. He could be cruel when he was using. Nikki didn’t care that he’d sworn to her mom he’d been clean for a year.

It finally registered that the room had grown quiet except for the country music coming from the jukebox. She had to do something. She glanced at the tables closest to her, then set the tray down on the one that had space. Everyone could sort out their own drinks.

She saw him start for the bar and hurried to intercept him, wiping her clammy palms on her jeans. She was able to head him off. But only because he stopped when he saw her coming.

“Hi.” She tried to swallow around the lump of panic lodged in her throat. “What are you doing here?”

“Hello, Nikita.” Luis moved to kiss her, but she sidestepped him before realizing he’d only been going for her cheek. His touch on her arm was light, then fell away. This wasn’t the same man she remembered. “I understand,” he said quietly, giving her room.

Obviously unaware of the drama, someone from the back yelled for their beer. Nikki automatically turned and caught Trace’s eye. She gave him a small shake of her head and hoped he stayed put. “I’m working,” she told Luis while subtly walking him toward the door. “I really can’t talk.” She saw Sadie retrieve the tray and carry it to the back.

Of course everyone in the bar stared at them.

“No hurry. I don’t drink any more but I can have a soda while I wait,” Luis said, studying her face. “You look good.”

“You shouldn’t be here.”

“I had to come. I got myself clean. Just like I promised you I would.” He sounded more urgent. “I want you back. You said you’d give me another chance if I turned my life around.”

“Luis, I was a kid when I said that.” She could barely remember the promise she’d made in another life. “I’ve changed, too.”

“I have savings now. Not drug money. I work at my cousin’s body shop. Totally legit. A few years and I can buy it from him.” He touched her cheek. “Everything I’ve done is for you, baby.”

She pushed his hand away. “I’m not going back to Houston.”

“Then we’ll go someplace else. Start fresh.”

“No, Luis. I wish you hadn’t come.” She’d always hated the loud country music from the jukebox. Where was it now when she needed it? “Please just leave.”

Luis looked past her, his shoulders squaring, and she knew it had to be Trace.

“Nikki, you all right?” he asked from just behind her.

“Fine.” She turned and forced a smile for him. “It’s okay.”

Trace met her eyes. Her weak assurance hadn’t been enough.

“You heard her.” Luis stayed calm, at least for him, but some of the old belligerence bled into his voice. “Go back and drink your beer, cowboy. And mind your own goddamn business.”

“See that’s the thing.” Trace gave him a thin smile. “Nikki is my business, and she doesn’t want you here.”

“Please stop.” She held on to Trace’s arm and put her other hand up to Luis. “Please, both of you.”

Luis swore. “Tell me how my wife is your business.”

Nikki couldn’t breathe. Her chest tightened and her throat closed. She reeled at Trace’s shocked expression, but it was nothing compared to the pain in his eyes.

* * *

TRACE WAITED FOR her denial. This stranger with the tats had to be lying. So why wasn’t she saying anything? She just stared, looking guiltier by the second. What the hell? “Nikki?”

She sucked in air, putting a hand to her throat, still staring at him, shame written all over her face. “It’s not like that...” She briefly hung her head, then looked at the other man. “Luis, just go. If you ever cared for me, you’ll leave. Now.”

Indecision flickered in his eyes. “I only came to get what’s mine,” he said, and stroked her arm.

Trace watched her delayed reaction in pulling away. “Sorry, dude,” he said to the guy, anger and stunned humiliation digging their hooks deeper into him. “My mistake.”

“Please, Trace.” Her voice was so faint he almost hadn’t heard her as he walked around them and out the door.

He got to the sidewalk, thought about stopping and bending over until his head cleared. The truck was still a block away. He pushed on.

Nikki was married? Jesus. That wasn’t the kind of thing that could slip someone’s mind. He hated to believe the guy, and he wouldn’t have if only she’d spoken up. Even if she was legally separated, that would’ve been okay with him. Things might’ve gone differently for them until she was divorced, hell, he didn’t know.

He jogged the last few yards to his truck, climbed inside with his heart pounding as if it would burst. Did Matt know she was married? Rachel?

It didn’t matter because every time Nikki had kissed him, each time they’d made love, she’d lied to him. Not just words gave a lie teeth and she’d taken plenty of bites. What hurt worse was that they’d confided in each other. She’d confessed some pretty heavy stuff, so had he. To think he’d been humbled by her trust... How could he have missed it? He’d thought he knew her. More than any woman he’d ever met. The irony was, he’d finally made up his mind that tonight was the night. He was going to come right out and prove to her that he was in this thing one hundred percent.

He’d believed with everything he had that Nikki was not only brave and strong and independent, but honest down to the bone. It’d never once occurred to him that she could be hiding so much of herself. Not after all they’d been through.

He stuck the key in the ignition and started the truck. His gaze went back to the Watering Hole door. No one had left since him. She was still in there with that guy. Her husband.

As he pulled out of his spot, the fire inside him turned cold. He should have listened to his instincts. Realized he wasn’t thinking straight. Twenty-seven was too young to go all in on a relationship. Maybe not for some guys, but for him? His gut had warned him, but that voice had been drowned out by his damn hormones.

He drove slow, careful. Everyone in the bar had just seen him get squashed like a bug. By tomorrow morning, he doubted there was anyone in town, hell, in the county who wouldn’t have heard about how she’d made him look like a fool. Just thinking about facing Sam again made Trace’s insides crawl.

Why hadn’t she told him? Was it because she’d known all along she was going to go back to Luis? Did she love the guy? Is that why she’d made such a point of warning Trace not to get serious?

His cell rang. Nikki’s tone. He could have answered the call, but he was too damn angry. So angry, he’d pulled over on the side of the road not too far out of town. Listening to her voice mail telling him she wanted to explain made him ache with disappointment and embarrassment all over again, and he wanted to throw the damn cell out the window. She’d had the chance to explain when he was standing next to her in front of everyone.

Trace sat in the dark, trying to make sense of things. Was that guy still at the bar? She clearly hadn’t wanted him there. Dammit. How was Trace supposed to run off in his righteous fury if Nikki needed him?

Maybe he was the biggest fool in Montana but he couldn’t just leave. She hadn’t wanted Luis there, and no matter what, Trace wasn’t about to drive off without knowing she was okay. For all he knew, Luis had abused her, and that’s why she’d left him.

“Well, shit.” Trace slammed his hand against the wheel. That was another possible angle. But she still should’ve told him. Trusted him with the truth.

He turned the ignition again, and made a U-turn to get himself back to the bar. To Nikki. It would be hell walking into the Watering Hole, but there was more at stake than his pride.

He needed to make sure she was safe.

* * *

“DON’T YOU GET IT? I’m not like that anymore. I worked all these years—”

“Luis, look, I’m happy for you,” she said, as she stared down the street, hoping to spot Trace’s truck. She didn’t see it, but at least they weren’t having this conversation in front of half the town. She turned back to Luis. “And I’m proud. You’ve done everything you said you would. But it’s been a long time.”

He snorted and curled his hands into fists. “You think it was easy getting out of that life?”

“I know it wasn’t. It hasn’t been easy for me, either. And I wasn’t—”

“Using. Or in the gang.”

She nodded. “Listen, what you did took courage. And you’ll do great at the body shop. But not with me.”

Luis exhaled sharply. “I suppose it was too much to hope for. But I had to try.”

“It wouldn’t work anymore. I’m not that girl.”

He reached up and touched the side of her face before he turned and walked down the street. She watched him climb into his Chevy, then pulled out her cell phone and hit Trace’s speed dial, still not sure what to say. Of course, it went to voice mail just as it had five minutes ago. She wouldn’t leave another message. She’d already asked him to come back so she could explain.

Why hadn’t she just said right then that Luis was lying? No, she should have told Trace the whole story. She’d been dreaming when she thought she could really have a new life, that all of her sins were in the past. She’d dared to think she didn’t have to live and die in the same three square miles of her childhood. But she’d let her guilt, her shame, get the best of her.

She had to find him, to tell him the truth and to admit she’d been a fool for not telling him everything. She wasn’t nearly as brave as he thought she was. The truth was, she’d been a coward, running from her past. Maybe she should keep on running. She’d take Wallace’s money and start a whole new life, somewhere no one knew her. Now she knew better than to fall for a pair of green eyes and a broad chest. Love was for other people. Not for the likes of her.

Tears welled, and she swiped them away with the back of her hand. Wallace, you win.

Nikki’s breath caught at the terrible thought. No. He wasn’t right about her, dammit. She was better than that. Stronger. She’d made mistakes, and this one might just kill her, but this time she wouldn’t be running from her mistake—the real mistake would be to run and leave the most amazing man she’d ever met.

The only thing she could do now was to own up to everything. To be the woman Trace thought she was. She’d stay, finish her night at work, knowing everyone in there would be staring and talking about her. But that didn’t matter. She’d come too far to let the old Nikki have her way. The brave Nikki was going to walk back into that bar with her head up.

* * *

TRACE STOOD OUTSIDE the door to the Watering Hole, dreading the spectacle. Nothing a bunch of drunk cowboys liked more than a free show, and they’d already gotten the first act. He thought about waiting for the place to close, but screw that. His pride had cost him too much already. Now that he’d seen her truck was still there, he wasn’t going to let anything stop him from walking inside and seeing for himself that Nikki wasn’t in trouble.

As he pulled the door open, the music hit him like a wave, but just his luck, the goddamn song ended. Every eye was on him.

His gaze went to the bar, and there she was. She hadn’t seen him yet, but the sudden silence made her turn. Her look of uncertainty and fear made the rest of the world disappear. He made it across the floor without feeling a step. “Are you okay?” he asked.

She nodded. “I was sixteen. I was hurting after Garret. I was an ass. I’m so sorry.”

“So he was telling the truth?”

Her cringe made him ache. “No. Well, not exactly. We went over the border and got married. My mother had it annulled by the end of the week.”

“Why didn’t you just tell me? I thought you trusted me.”

She let out a small whimper. “I do, but I was ashamed. I’d already told you some things about my past, but I was afraid to admit how crazy it had gotten. I’m not the girl next door.”

The crack of a pool rack breaking apart split the quiet, and someone coughed, but Trace didn’t care. “I know that,” he said. “I don’t want the girl next door. I want you, just the way you are.”

“You don’t, though. You don’t know—”

“We sat in this very bar back in February, and you told me all I needed to hear about who you were. I was hooked. Still am. You’re not the only one who’s been holding back. I should have told you before tonight.” He leaned over and caught her hand. It was ice-cold and felt so fragile. “Rachel told me a long time ago that when I finally fell, I’d fall hard. I hate to admit it, but she was spot-on. I love you, Nikki. I kept telling myself I was too young to say those words, but not saying the words doesn’t make it less true.”

* * *

NIKKI OPENED HER MOUTH, but nothing came out. She was still too shocked. “Are you sure?”

“Well, hell, honey, just ask anyone here. You’ve got a lot of witnesses.”

“Oh, God.” Her hand covered her mouth as she realized where they were. They might as well have been standing in the middle of the street in broad daylight. No, this was worse. Jerry and Eli had turned their chairs away from their table to get a better view. Sadie at least pretended she wasn’t listening. Nikki closed her eyes, wishing everyone but Trace would disappear.

“You gonna leave me hanging out here in the wind?”

Snapping her eyes open, she leaned forward, but she couldn’t reach more than his hand over the bar. “What? No. Oh, no. Me, too. I mean, I’m pretty sure. That I love you.”

He smiled. “I’ll take it. I’m just glad you weren’t halfway to Houston. I would have hated making that long drive to go get you. I shouldn’t have stormed off.”

“Oh, I knew you’d be back.”

“How?”

“Something your mom said. Of all three boys, you’re the most like your dad. You definitely have the McAllister pride, but you also have the McAllister honor.” Nikki walked around the bar until she stood right in front of him. “I didn’t know how it would turn out, but I knew you’d let me explain.”

“My mom said that?” He looked stunned, a little emotional. “I’m like my dad?”

Nikki nodded. “She did.”

“That’s a hell of a thing to hear. Thank you. But I didn’t come back because of honor, sweetheart.” He pulled her close until she was pressed right up against him and he was looking straight into her eyes. “I came back because you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

She pressed her lips together, trying hard not to cry. The only man who made a difference thought she was just fine the way she was. He loved her. He’d even said it in front of everybody.

When he kissed her, the whole place burst into applause, but she could still hear Sadie’s gravelly voice saying, “It’s about damn time.”

* * * * *