Bucking the Rules(15)

Bea’s mouth fell open. “I’m not sure which is more disturbing. The fact that you think my social life is pathetic, or that you just used the term ‘MYOB.’ It’s 2013, in case you didn’t notice.”

He ignored that and walked around her. Then an idea popped into his mind. “You want me to have a social life?”

“Yes. Because I love you. Though right now I’m wracking my brain trying to remember why.”

“And you want to help me.”

“Yes.” She smiled patiently at him.

“Then this is how you help.” He unhooked the baby monitor from his back pocket and thrust it at her. “Babysit.”

She stared at the monitor like it was a remote detonator to a bomb. “What the hell do I do with this?”

He sighed and reached over to turn it on. The green light lit up and the soft sounds of his son’s snoring rasped through the speaker. “You just keep it with you. Go up and surf the Internet on the computer. Read a magazine. Watch TV. Cook a meal. I don’t care, it doesn’t matter. Just do something in the big house, and have that with you. And don’t leave to go back to your new apartment.”

She started to hand it back, but he stepped out of the way. “I can’t babysit. You know I don’t do the kid thing.”

“He’s asleep. He’s been sleeping through the night for months now. There’s no reason to think he won’t do it again. So all you have to do is be in the house. That’s it. If he doesn’t make a sound, then you do nothing but stay in the house and do whatever it is you want to.”

She stared at the monitor again and he could see her starting to mentally draft an excuse.

“Bea, I need this.”

She watched him, and he could see her softening.

“I spent almost a whole year not leaving this house except for work. I hate relying on Emma—it’s not her job after hours. And Peyton already watched him recently.”

She hesitated, and then her shoulders drooped.

And he knew he’d won a hard-earned battle for a night out.

“Fine.” She narrowed her eyes and pointed a finger at him. “But those boxes? You’re moving every single one of them when you get back.”

“Done,” he agreed quickly, in case she changed her mind. “Every one.” He leaned over and brushed a kiss on her cheek. “Thanks, Bea.”

As he headed out the door, she called out, “Don’t be shocked if you come home and Seth’s dressed in a sweater vest!”

Trace shuddered and wisely kept walking.





Chapter Four


Jo sat down at the bar. The nonworking side, for once. She had a night off, and where did she go? Right back where she’d started. Her own bar. She’d be annoyed and disgusted with herself, if she wasn’t so sure there was literally nothing else to do.

No movies to see. Nothing on TV. The nearest town had promise, but it wasn’t like she was going to drive out there by herself, only to drive back in the morning. Waste of time and gas.

So she resigned herself to playing where she worked. It could be worse, though. Most people seemed to give her a decent berth. No married men hitting on her, hoping for an easy lay before they went home to their sweet wives. No weird underage kids hoping to score some beer. No CEO assholes who thought she’d be impressed by the size of their portfolio.

Nobody. She was still alone in the small town. Still an outsider. And it was starting to piss her off.

“Hey.”

She turned at the familiar voice, and before she could help it, she smiled. “Back for more?”

Trace gave her a friendly grin. “Can’t resist your … selection.” He gave Jenna, the bartender of the night, his order and sat back. So fluid and easy in his skin. His hair was a little damp, like he’d just taken a shower. Because he was coming to the bar? Or because it was a long work day … ?

Didn’t matter. She shouldn’t be thinking about him like that. Amanda, Amanda, Amanda. Amanda has dibs, she mentally reminded herself.

Her sexual nerve endings were apparently not receiving the memo, because they were getting all fidgety just looking at him.

“Night off for you?”

She held up her almost-empty bottle. “Yeah, I get one of those every so often. Though when you’re the owner …”

“You’re never really off,” he finished. “Yeah, I’m coming to learn that myself with the ranch. Though it’s Peyton’s thing more than mine.”

He settled back a moment and watched the screen above the bar, breaking his silence only to thank the bartender when she set the bottle in front of him on a napkin. Jo watched from the corner of her eye, but his line of vision never wandered from the bartender’s face, despite her low V-neck shirt.