Holding Out for Christmas (The Christmas Tree Ranch #3)(38)

He broke off at the sound of a throat clearing. Megan looked up to see a waitress standing next to their table, pen poised over her order pad. Blond and on the buxom side, with baby blue eyes and a slightly pug nose, she was pretty enough to be noticed. But her death grip on the pen and the venom in her look instantly put Megan on her guard.

“May I take your order?” Every word was razor-edged.

Conner seemed to recover from his surprise. “Hello, Ronda May,” he said. “I didn’t expect to see you here.”

“I got my old job back,” she said. “I can’t say I expected to see you, either. Who’s your friend?”

“Let me introduce you.” Conner was clearly squirming inside. “Ronda May, this is Megan Carson, who’s visiting from Nashville. Megan, this is an old friend of mine, Ronda May Blackburn.”

Something told Megan the woman had been more than a friend, but that was no reason not to be civil. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Ronda May,” she said.

Ronda May smirked. “I’ll bet. Conner and I go way back, don’t we, Conner?”

“Don’t you have a wedding coming up soon?” he asked. “The last time we spoke, you told me you were engaged.”

“Not anymore. The dirty skunk cheated on me, so I told him to take a hike. I figured I deserved better than that.”

“Good for you,” Megan said, meaning to show support.

“Mind your own business, honey,” Ronda May snapped. “I’m only here to take your order.” She leaned over the table to pick up the discarded menus. Megan would never know if what happened next was accidental or deliberate. As Ronda May reached, her arm brushed Megan’s half-full wineglass, knocking it over and spilling dark red wine into Megan’s lap.

Megan gasped as the liquid soaked into her jeans. She grabbed a cloth napkin, dabbing frantically.

“Here, come on.” Giving Conner no time to react, Ronda May pulled her out of the booth and down the hall to the women’s restroom. Inside, she yanked a handful of paper towels out of the dispenser, wet them under the tap, and thrust them at Megan. “Get out as much as you can. It’ll stain,” she said.

“Thanks.” Megan was doing her best to blot up the wine, but it had already soaked through to her underwear. She could feel the wetness against her skin.

“No need to thank me.” Ronda May’s eyes blazed like an angry bobcat’s. “But as long as we’re here, honey, you need to know a few things. Conner and I were hot and heavy most of last year. He begged me to marry him. I said no because I wasn’t sure he was ready to settle down. When I ended things between us, he was heartbroken—must’ve called me ten times a day, pleading with me to come back.”

Megan listened, trying not to jump to conclusions. The woman and Conner clearly had a history. What Ronda May was telling her didn’t match her impression of the cool and cautious Conner. But then again, how well did she really know him?

“Why are you telling me this?” she asked in a level voice.

Ronda May’s prettily made-up face filled Megan’s vision. “Because I’ve learned my lesson, honey,” she said. “I want him back. And if you know what’s good for you, you’ll stand aside and let me have him.”





Chapter 9


When Megan returned to the dining room, Conner, looking worried, was waiting for her by the booth. “Are you all right?” he asked.

“I’m fine. Just wet.” Megan slid back into her seat. After Ronda May’s tirade, she’d simply walked out of the restroom. She was still at a loss for words.

Conner sat down across from her. “I asked the hostess to get us a different server—unless, of course, you’d rather not stay.”

Megan found her voice. “I’ll stay. But I get the impression your girlfriend doesn’t like me much.”

“She’s not my girlfriend. Not anymore, at least. We dated for a few months Then we broke up. She found somebody else and got engaged. End of story—or so I’d hoped.”

“So you’d hoped? She told me you begged her to come back.”

“I begged her?” Conner’s chuckle sounded forced. “Not quite. We broke up because Ronda May wanted to get married. I didn’t. We lasted as long as we did because I didn’t want to hurt her. I wanted the breakup to be her idea. In the end, it was.”

“Then you must have cared for her,” Megan said softly.

“I did,” Conner said. “Just not enough to go the distance.”

Was that the way he felt about her? Megan wondered. Ronda May might have bent the truth, but there was something to be learned from her story—something Megan would be wise to remember. Conner might care for her, but maybe, as he’d just said, not enough to go the distance.

She was saved from the awkward conversation by the arrival of their new server, a young man this time, who took Conner’s order for two rib eyes, medium rare.

“Would you like some more wine?” Conner asked.

Megan glanced down at the wine-soaked front of her new jeans. “I think I’ve had enough wine for tonight,” she said.

Their salads, along with fresh, warm sourdough bread, arrived promptly. Everything was tasty and well prepared, especially the steaks. But the glow had gone from the evening. Although she stayed out of sight, Ronda May had seen to that.