Slow Hand (Hot Cowboy Nights, #1)(48)

“But you promised to answer my questions.”

She sucked in a big breath and blew it out on a resign sigh. “You really wanna hear this?”

“I do. I want to know what I’m dealing with.”

“All right. The first one was named Donnie. He was a hotshot bronc rider I met at the Toccoa Rodeo. I was seventeen and moonstruck. He got me drunk and took my virginity in the back of his horse trailer. Not five minutes later, he asked me to blow his best friend while he watched. I refused and he dumped me for a more willing buckle-bunny.”

“Ah,” he said. “I guess that explains your earlier concern about voyeurism.”

“Yeah. I’m a bit gun-shy about stuff like that.”

“And after Donnie?” he prompted her.

“Unfortunately, my cowboy addiction didn’t end with him. After I left home, me and my girlfriends got into line dancing and started hitting the honky-tonks. We went to Wild Bill’s in Duluth every Friday night and the Electric Cowboy on Saturdays. ’Course you can guess the kinda guys I met at those places—a long string of drinkers, liars, cheaters—all of them wearing tight Wranglers, boots, and hats. The last one was the worst though—the one I thought I was going to marry.”

“What happened?”

“I caught him in bed with my roommate. I should have seen it coming, but I didn’t want to. I kicked them both out and they married six months later. The worst part of it wasn’t the boyfriend but losing my best friend since grade school. We’d always dreamed of being each other’s maids of honor one day. Needless to say, I didn’t get an invitation to their wedding—not that I would have gone,” she added dryly. “That was the last cowboy I dated.”

“I’m sorry… Well, about the best friend, not about the fiancé,” he confessed.

“Me too. It’s hard to get over a betrayal like that. So you see why I’ve sworn off cowboys?”

Wade shook his head with a snort. “Hate to burst your bubble, sweetheart, but a Stetson and a pair of Tony Lamas doesn’t make a man a cowboy.”

“I think maybe I’m starting to know the difference,” she said.

“I’m glad to hear that.”

“My turn now,” she said.

Wade shrugged. “I’m an open book.”

“So you claim, but somehow I doubt that.”

“Try me, sweetheart.”

“All right. There are several things I’d like to know.”

“Oh yeah?” He poured her a second glass of wine.

“For starters, is there a particular reason why you don’t drink?”

His hand froze. His expression hardened. “Yeah…there’s a reason.”

“Does it have anything to do with your brother?” She wanted to know him so badly, to understand him, but judging by his hardening expression, this was dangerous territory.

His gaze narrowed. “Why would you ask that?”

Nikki tried to affect an offhand manner. “Just something your mother said.”

Wade stared up at the ceiling. “There’s a helluva lot of history behind our antagonism.”

“Care to elaborate?”

“Not particularly,” he echoed her earlier reply.

“You’ve already broken the rules. I just answered half a dozen of your questions. You can’t expect me to lay out my history for your inspection without reciprocation. Doesn’t seem fair, Wade.”

He inhaled and then released it with an exasperated sound. “Look, it’s nothing personal, Nikki. I’ll talk about anything else, but I’d rather forget that entire chapter of my life.”

“And you think I enjoyed dredging up mine?” She looked away, picked up her glass, and drained it.

They finished the meal in a strained silence. The dinner was excellent, much better than Nikki had expected. The Kobe beef accompanied by the Shiraz had been a particular delight to her taste buds, but now she could hardly taste it. She stared at her plate, idly pushing the food around.

Leaning in close, Wade covered her hand with his. He said nothing for a moment, as if he waited to see if she’d snatch it away. When she didn’t, he brought her palm to his lips and kissed it.

“I’m sorry, Nikki. Please understand I’m not trying to be secretive. I just didn’t expect any of this to come up tonight. Something happened four years ago that part of me is still dealing with, and I’m not ready to talk about it yet. Can you please try to understand that?”

The pain in his eyes was unmistakable.

Her resentment evaporated. “Yes,” she answered softly. “I can understand. There’s a number of things I’m trying to work out too. It’s part of the reason I came here—to figure things out.”

“I promise you I’m trying real hard to work through it all.”

“I’m sorry I pressed you.”

“There’s nothing for you to be sorry about. I’m the one who said I’d answer your questions and then reneged.”

“Let’s just agree to let it go. I’m OK with that. Really,” she insisted.

Wade moved to pour her another glass of wine.

“I think I’ve had enough already.”

“It’s a shame to waste a good wine.”