You're Still the One. Debbi Rawlins

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      She stopped at the dining room table, covered with filled ice buckets, glasses, chilling wine and a big bowl of Trace’s pinkish-orange punch sitting next to the leftover birthday cake. The lettering was mostly gone and you couldn’t tell the cake was for her. She was glad about that. Though not so happy to see that the beer hadn’t been replenished in the silver cooler.

      “Okay,” she said, picking up glasses and holding them up to the light just to be sure they were clean. “We have more beer in the family room wet bar, also a blender of margarita mix in the kitchen. And this? My brother’s 100 proof…frankly, I’m not sure what to call it. He says punch.”

      “Let me guess….” Matt smiled. “Trace?”

      Rachel nodded. “He was only seventeen when you left, and still you know.”

      Matt’s smile faded. The cautious way he met her eyes removed any doubt he was thinking about that night—him leaving, not saying a word, the inadequate note he’d left for her….

      If they were alone she’d tell him it was okay. He didn’t have to worry. It wouldn’t be a lie, but seeing each other again after all those years was stirring up crazy and unexpected feelings. At least for her.

      Oh, God…an annoying thought struck her. She’d done the math. She could’ve made any sort of joke about Trace not changing. Most people wouldn’t remember it had been exactly ten years since Matt left. But she did. Ten years and one day.

      Jeez, what was wrong with her? Until she’d seen him earlier, she really hadn’t been thinking about him. Even if she had, too bad. He had Nikki. And she was gorgeous with her long dark hair, olive skin and light brown eyes.

      “So…” Rachel pretended to study the table and cleared her throat. “What will it be?”

      “I’ve changed my mind about the beer,” Nikki said. “I might need the punch.” She glanced at Matt, who eyed her with a touch of amusement and an almost imperceptible shake of his head.

      Their private look depressed Rachel. It shouldn’t have—she had no business having any reaction. Carefully keeping her gaze lowered, she grabbed the tongs to put ice in the glass.

      “I can do that myself,” Nikki said. “Matt, I know you want a beer, so why don’t you two go get it. I’ll find you.”

      Rachel looked up. He was watching her with blue eyes she remembered differently. Had she been too young to notice the smoldering intensity? “Beer?”

      “Unless your brothers wiped them out.”

      “They better not have.” She moved around the table, smiling at Nikki. “Help yourself to the cake. Or anything in the kitchen,” she added, feeling a bit guilty.

      It would make sense to wait for her since it took seconds to ladle punch into a glass. But Rachel wanted Matt to herself, even if only for two minutes.

      “Thanks,” Nikki said. “The cake does look good. I just might have a piece.”

      Matt’s brows drew together in a puzzled frown directed at Nikki, who ignored him and switched places with Rachel so she could get to the punch bowl.

      “You want to wait for her?” Rachel asked, unnerved to be near enough to see a small scar on his beard-roughened chin.

      “Nah, she’s okay. I never have to worry about that one.”

      Except he did, Rachel could see it in his lingering gaze, and she felt horrible for being disappointed. But when he touched the small of her back as she slipped past him, she felt something else altogether.

      It was crazy, inappropriate, unacceptable, yet she couldn’t make herself unfeel the sizzling electric shock that had flowed from his palm up her spine. She sincerely hoped it was the cumulative effect of the day’s booze causing her to act like a dope. She wasn’t the type of woman to covet a man who was taken. He was with Nikki, though Rachel didn’t believe they were married, and not just because of the lack of rings. It was simply a gut feeling. Had she kept her mouth shut instead of babbling when she first saw them, he would’ve introduced Nikki himself.

      “I don’t know any of these people, do I?”

      Rachel started. It wasn’t his question that made her jump, but the proximity of his mouth to her ear…his warm breath gliding over her skin. She’d already led him through the living room without realizing it. The guests were all staring at him—of course they were, they were women.

      Her birthday celebration had included them, and they’d heard the dinner talk. Now they were putting two and two together, and they were checking out the hot, sexy rodeo star.

      “You don’t,” she said, pausing to clear her head enough to ensure her voice and brain were in sync. Obviously he didn’t know about the dude ranch part of the Sundance. “So much has happened just in the past year….”

      They had to sidestep Carla, a guest from Indianapolis, who blocked their path to the family room. She got in a breathy, “Hi,” aimed at Matt before they could pass her.

      “Evenin’,” he said, giving her a polite smile.

      “Have some cake, Carla,” Rachel said pleasantly, but stayed on course. She tilted her head closer to Matt. “We’re going to keep walking or else you can forget about your beer.”

      “Yeah, I know,” he said, which probably shouldn’t have made Rachel smile because his grim tone indicated he might be sick of too much female attention at this point in his career.

      She wondered how he’d handled the buckle-bunny phenomena. Although the rodeo scene had never interested her, she knew about the groupies who followed the circuit. It didn’t matter if the guy was attractive. If he was at the top of his game, he was getting a whole lot of hotel room keys stuffed in his pockets.

      For Matt, it had to be a double whammy. He’d always been good-looking with his sun-lightened hair and beautiful blue eyes. It wasn’t just her opinion. Half the girls in high school, all four grades, had secretly crushed on him. Yet he’d only had one girlfriend. They’d both been sophomores, as serious as two fifteen-year-olds can be…until his father had humiliated him in front of Emily and then ran her off the Lone Wolf.

      Now, almost thirty, Matt was even better-looking than he’d been at nineteen. The years had given his face more character, with fine lines at the outside corners of his eyes, grooves along his sexy mouth that apparently she’d been unable to suitably appreciate in her youth. His nose seemed different, though, a bit crooked.

      “Rachel, wait.” He caught her arm just outside the family room.

      Her heart nearly stopped. Had he noticed her staring? If he felt compelled to point out he was with Nikki and not interested in straying, Rachel would just die. Right here. Right now, on her twenty-sixth birthday. So sad.

      She did as he asked, but he didn’t let go. Staring into each other’s eyes, they stood in a small semi-private foyer that was the result of an addition to the original house.

      Matt smiled. “It’s good to see you.” He stroked his palm down her arm to her hand, and lightly squeezed.

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