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Her Montana Christmas Groom
Her Montana Christmas Groom
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Her Montana Christmas Groom

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“I’m pretty good on a pair of skis,” he said. “But there’s nothing like the adrenaline rush of snowboarding.”

“Oh?” She couldn’t resist. “I bet that’s good practice for a career as a lawyer, too. Fall down, get back up.”

“Smart girl. I decided on a career as an attorney because knowing the law gives you power. And the money’s good, too.” He grinned and winked.

Dear God, did he really just wink at her? She barely held back a shudder. “So I’ve heard.”

“I’ve got the mayor’s ear.” He lowered his voice as if he was sharing a national security secret and all the families eating ribs in booths and wooden tables around the room were spies. “If your brother Ethan needs local legal counsel for Traub Oil, I’m his guy. Or if he’s looking to merge the legal departments of Texas and Montana under one roof, I could help with that, too.”

The “aha” light came on and all became clear to Rose. This blowhard wasn’t attracted to her any more than she was to him. He had an ulterior motive for asking her out. If Harvey hadn’t picked her up at her apartment, she’d have walked out right that second. But her place was a long hike in the cold and she was wearing heels.

She stood up suddenly. “Excuse me, Harvey. I’m going to the ladies’ room.”

Before he could answer, she turned and hurried through the place. She passed waitresses wearing short, tight blue shorts and a big red lip imprint on their T-shirts feeling as exploited as they probably did. Following the back wall, she finally found the alcove with doors that said “Men” and “Women” staring at each other. She pushed open the female door and blew out a long breath, grateful that it was quiet and she was alone.

“That pompous windbag. Conniving, underhanded, self-absorbed jerk. How dare he use me to get Ethan’s legal business?”

There must be a way to cut this abomination of an experience short. It wasn’t practical to simply walk out and she couldn’t insist he take her home immediately. Working with him could get awkward if he wasn’t exaggerating the truth and really did have access to the mayor.

Bo Clifton had probably known Harvey a long time. There could be press releases with critical wording that might require legal tweaking, to keep the mayor out of hot water because of unfortunate phrasing. How could she gracefully end this horrid encounter before committing justifiable homicide? It would be self-defense because if it lasted any longer, Harvey French would bore her to death. But if she choked him, there could be jail time involved. That would upset her family and she didn’t think she’d do well in jail.

Although she was sick of Harvey, pretending to come down with an illness was problematic. Her acting skills weren’t that good. There was only one thing to do, what she always did when she was in trouble.

She pulled her cell phone out of her purse and brought up her contact list, then hit Jackson’s number. The last thing he said to her at the wedding was that if she needed him he would be there. Time to put up or shut up.

Rose worried her lip as the phone rang three, four, five times. Darn it. He wasn’t answering. Just when she was afraid the call was going straight to his voice mail, Jackson finally picked up.

“What?” He sounded crabby and breathless, as if he’d been running, or…

Oh, no. Shoot, shoot, shoot, she said to herself. With caller ID, he already knew who was calling, so she had to say something. “It’s Rose.”

“Are you okay?” The words were laced with alarm.

“Fine, physically. I have a date, but—”

“You called to tell me you have a date? What am I? Your BFF? That’s not breaking news. It’s business as usual for you.”

“No, Jackson, listen. I’m with him right now—”

“Why is your voice echoing?”

Rose leaned her shoulder against a tile wall. The mirror and sink were beside her. She stared at her reflection, the desperation on her face, and hoped it was as clear in her voice. “I’m hiding in the restroom, so technically he’s not here now. He’s waiting for me at the table.”

“I don’t need a play by play—”

“Stop yelling at me and listen. You have to get me out of here.”

“Are your legs painted on? Just walk out.”

“He picked me up, I don’t have a car. The thing is, I met him at work. There’s no graceful way for me to handle this and it could get awkward at the office.”

“Rose—” Annoyance grated in his voice.

“Please, Jackson. I wouldn’t have bothered you if there was any other way. I’m begging you to get me out of here. Think of something so he won’t be offended. He’s got an ego on him.” She added the final argument. “I’m at Lipsmackin’ Ribs.”

“Traitor.”

“It wasn’t my idea,” she protested. “He surprised me. But do you see what I’m up against?”

There was a long silence before he finally said, “Give me fifteen minutes.”

“Thanks, Jackson.”

Rose reapplied her lipstick, then went back to the table. “All freshened up.”

He looked a little miffed. “The waitress was here to take our order, but I didn’t know what you wanted.”

That surprised her from the man who thought he knew everything. On the other hand, she didn’t want him to be on the hook for food she had no intention of eating.

“We’ve been so busy blathering away that I haven’t had a chance to look at the menu.” She gave Harvey a bright smile, something it was possible to do now that help was on the way.

It was actually closer to twenty-five minutes before Jackson finally showed up. He stopped beside the booth and scowled. “I’ve been looking for you.”

“Jackson?” She put as much surprise as possible into her voice. “I’m on a date here. Harvey French, this is my brother Jackson Traub.”

“Nice to meet you.” Harvey put out his hand and they shook.

“What are you doing here, Jackson?” Her performance wouldn’t win any awards, but it was the best she could do.

“Your cell phone is off. There’s urgent family business and I’m here to get you.”

“Can’t it wait until Harvey and I have dinner?”

“No.” There was a dangerous glint in her brother’s dark eyes and she wondered if she’d pushed it just a little too far.

“Jackson wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t important.” She pretended regret when she looked at Harvey. “I’m so sorry, but it looks like I have to cut our evening short.”

“Only if I get a rain check,” Harvey said.

“Only if…” That wasn’t an outright lie. She stood and grabbed her coat and purse. “Thanks for the drink.”

She lifted her hand in a wave, then turned and followed her brother outside. His new luxury SUV was parked at the curb, proof that he was settling down. Rose opened the door and got in. “You’re a lifesaver.”

“Yeah.” He turned the key in the ignition and the dashboard came to life, highlighting his angry expression.

“I’ll make it up to you.”

“Good, because you owe me big time. Laila and I were just about to have a—romantic moment.”

That’s what she’d been afraid of. His hair was uncombed and looked as if Laila had been running her fingers through it. Beneath his sheepskin-lined jacket his shirttail was hanging out, as if he’d dressed in a hurry and didn’t take the time to tuck it in. There wasn’t much she could say, but she had to try.

“I’m so sorry. I feel terrible about that, but I was desperate.”

“That’s what you get for going out with someone from work.”

“How else am I supposed to meet men?” she asked.

Jackson’s only response was an angry look. In the silence that followed, she realized he was driving in the opposite direction from where her apartment was located.

“Where are we going?”

“You’ll see.”

A few minutes later her brother pulled up in front of The Hitching Post and turned off the car. “I didn’t make up the part about urgent family business.”

Rose narrowed her gaze on him. “What’s going on?”

“Come with me.”

“Do I have a choice?”

“No.” He came around the car and met her on the sidewalk. The streetlight illuminated his features and there was a very real possibility that the glare on his face was permanent. Without another word, she followed him into The Hitching Post.

Unlike Lipsmackin’ Ribs on Tuesday night, this place was quiet. Divided by a half wall, there was a restaurant on one side and a bar on the other. Rose was pretty sure they were going to the other.

Her suspicion was confirmed when she saw her brothers Dillon, Ethan and Corey at a table with the best view of the painting behind the old west-style bar. In the picture, a scantily clad and scandalous Lily Divine stared down at the men with a “come hither” challenge in her eyes.

“Bet she didn’t have any trouble getting a man,” Rose grumbled.

And that’s when she saw Austin Anderson on the restaurant side sitting at a table with his sister Angie. Family night at The Hitching Post, just her luck. They saw her and waved and she lifted a hand in response. For a second she thought about breaking rank and joining them because it was clear Jackson had mobilized Traub reinforcements for some reason.

All her brothers were there except Jason who was still in Midland, Texas. Whatever the four in Thunder Canyon had to say was probably not something she wanted to hear. And she really would rather Austin didn’t have a front row seat. He’d already seen her get carded and a stern talking to by the Traub tribe was not another humiliation she wanted him to witness.

“You know, Jackson, I think I’m going to skip this family reunion,” she said.

“If you take one step toward that door, I will put you over my shoulder.” It didn’t seem possible that his fierce look could intensify, but the angry stare got angrier and stopped her cold.

“Okay, let’s get this over with.”

“My sentiments exactly. Laila’s waiting.”

Rose moved around him and with head held high, walked to the table where her brothers waited. All of them were at least six feet tall, broad-shouldered and dark-haired. She’d told Austin they were the best-looking men at the wedding, but right this minute she would take back those words and substitute annoying.

She took the last open seat at the table for four. The three of them had beers and there was a fourth that Jackson picked up. Nothing for her.

Dillon, the oldest, rested his forearms on the table. “Jackson called me after you sounded the alarm, Rose. I decided a family meeting was in order.”

“Why?” This wasn’t unprecedented, but it didn’t happen very often.

“Consider this an intervention,” he said, a very doctor-like thing to say. Because he was a doctor, the word choice made perfect sense.

The meaning? Not so much. “What for? I don’t smoke, do drugs or drink too much.”

“You’re addicted to dating,” Corey said.

“You’re not serious,” she scoffed.

“Yeah, we are.” Jackson pulled over a chair from the adjacent table. “You date too much.”

“Define too much.” Her chin lifted a notch.

“So many men, so little time.” Dillon took a pull on his beer. “Off the top of my head there’s Nick, Dean and Cade Pritchett.”

“Okay, so—”

“John Kelly,” Corey added. “The mortgage banker.”

“Yeah.” Rose struggled to put a face with the name. “He was very banker-ish.”

“You don’t remember him, do you?” Ethan looked thoughtful. “Zach Evans. He’s a rancher.”

“Rob Lewis, chamber of commerce president.” Corey turned his beer bottle.

They continued to add names to a list that became pretty impressive. She was amazed that her macho brothers had paid so much attention to her love life. Or, to put a finer point on it, her lack of love life.

“They don’t even know about Harvey French.” Jackson’s eyes narrowed.

“Then I’ll tell them,” she said. “He’s a lawyer and asked me out because he wants to get Traub Oil Montana’s legal business. And possibly the Texas stuff, too.”

“Jerk,” Ethan muttered.

“My sentiments exactly. That’s why I called Jackson,” she defended. “So if we’re done here—”

“Not so fast,” they all said.

Ethan nailed her with a look. “You’ve got to stop, Rosie. Take a break.”

“I can’t do that.” She folded her arms over her chest and looked at each of them defiantly.

“Yeah, you can. Get your head on straight,” Corey suggested. “Decide what you’re looking for. Separate the wheat from the chaff.”

“What does that even mean?”

If this was a job, they’d be telling her to work it, put in the hours, make herself indispensable. This was even more important. It was her life, her happiness. Why should finding love require any less dedication than her career?

Jackson leaned forward, rested his elbows on his knees. “Some soul searching couldn’t hurt, Rose. You need to figure out why no guy is generating sparks.”

That wasn’t completely true, she thought. There were enough sparks with Austin to start a fairly frightening forest fire. She glanced over at him and saw he was looking at her. The expression in his eyes set off a fireball in her belly, proving her point. She grabbed Ethan’s beer and took a drink to put out the blaze. This thing with Austin was nothing. It couldn’t be.