satin clutch.
“I’ll give you this,” Nevada said, looking up from her magazine, “the curves are impressive.”
Montana laughed. “You have the same ones.”
“They look better on you.”
“Thanks. You should see what I have on underneath.”
“Shapewear?” Dakota asked.
“It’s practically bulletproof. I can’t breathe, but it makes a big difference.”
She walked barefoot into the bedroom. “Anybody talk to Mom in the past day or so?”
Her sisters exchanged a glance, then looked at her and shook their heads. She’d already told them what had happened when she’d brought up the subject of Max.
“We shouldn’t have let you do that yourself,” Dakota told her. “We should have spoken to her together. Strength in numbers, and all that. She couldn’t be mad at all of us.”
“I’m not so sure,” Montana told her. “She was pretty upset. The thing is, I don’t know why. We’re talking about something that happened over thirty-five years ago. No one cares about that.”
Nevada sat up. “She does. What we don’t know is why. Want us to all go talk to her?”
“No. I’m going to wait a little longer, then go see her myself. One of the things she told me was that she doesn’t want us talking about her and Max. So having us bring it up might make things worse.”
Dakota motioned for Montana to return to the bathroom. After the now-cool rollers were removed, Montana bent at the waist and finger-combed her hair. When it was fluffed sufficiently, Dakota sprayed.
Montana straightened, smoothed her hair in place, then covered her face with her hands for the second spraying.
“You look amazing,” Nevada said, sounding impressed. “Maybe I should grow my hair out.”
Montana fingered the long, curly hair that tumbled well past her shoulders. Going back to her natural blond color last year had been the right decision. “Thanks,” she said, hoping Simon would be blown away.
Dakota leaned against the counter. “You’re crazy about him, aren’t you?”
“I am. I should have been more careful, but I wasn’t and now every time we’re together, I wonder how much longer we’ll have before he leaves.”
“You’re sure he’s going?” Nevada asked.
“Yes. He’d already made plans to go to Peru. That’s next. He’s working on the assignment after that. It could be anywhere from Appalachia to Pakistan.”
“Have you talked to him about it?” Dakota asked.
“More than once.”
She wasn’t comfortable telling them that Simon believed that one of the prices of his gift was that he had to always be on the move. Especially since she didn’t think that came close to the heart of the matter. His wound went deeper. How could he trust—truly trust—after what he’d been through as a child? Distance was safe.
“I know he’s lonely and that he wants to belong. He just won’t let himself.”
“Given what happened to him when he was a kid, I’m not surprised,” Nevada said. “Rules help. They create boundaries. The last thing this guy wants is something out of his control. His mother got out of control and look what happened. Caring is messy and unpredictable. His way keeps him safe. Sure, he misses out on a lot, but even that discomfort doesn’t surprise him. He knows what to expect.”
Both Montana and Dakota turned to stare at her.
“What?” Nevada demanded.
“That was very insightful,” Dakota told her.
“I may not have a Ph.D. in psychology, but I’m not a complete idiot when it comes to relationships.”
“Apparently not,” Dakota said with a grin.
There was a knock on the door.
Montana’s stomach tightened. She walked to the front of the house, and pulled open the door.
She took in the well-tailored, dark suit, the blinding white shirt and the red power tie. But what really caught her attention was the look of admiration and lust on Simon’s face.
“Hi,” she said, stepping back to let him in. “I’m ready. I just have to get my bag.”
He grabbed her arm. “Montana,” he said, his voice husky. “You look amazing.”
“Thank you.”
She returned to the bedroom and found her sisters standing in the doorway, listening.
“I was hoping for more,” Nevada said. “That he would be overwhelmed and have sex with you right there on the sofa.”
“Not with you two listening.”
“We would have let ourselves out the back.”
Montana pushed between them and grabbed her small clutch. “You still can.” She grinned. “Besides, you didn’t see the look on his face.”
Dakota laughed. “Point taken. Have fun. Call and tell us all the details.”
“I will,” Montana promised, and returned to the living room. “I’m ready.”
“Me, too,” Simon said with a sigh. “I’d prefer to stay here for a while, but if we’re too late, they’ll get suspicious.”
She thought about mentioning the fact that her sisters were standing in her bedroom, but then decided he didn’t need to know that. Besides, there was always later. “Rain check?”
“Absolutely.”
SIMON USUALLY HATED these kinds of events. He wasn’t a party guy and had always preferred quiet conversation over loud music. However, this fundraiser seemed to be better than most. For one thing, he knew a surprising number of people attending.
The mayor had greeted him at the door. Most of the ladies from his recent lunch were there, along with much of the hospital staff. His recent return to good temper meant that the nurses were now speaking to him. But the biggest difference was Montana.
He’d never attended something like this with a date before. Not only was she the most beautiful woman in the room, she had a social ease that made him feel more comfortable. She knew everyone, knew their children or their parents. She asked the right questions, smiled and laughed in the right places.
“You must be finding a lot to enjoy in our city,” an older woman said, looking more than a little determined. “Fool’s Gold has so much to offer.”
Before Simon could sidestep the implication, Montana spoke. “I’ve been showing him all over town,” she said easily. “Have you been out to the vineyards lately? I think this is going to be our biggest harvest ever.” She turned to Simon. “Grape harvesting is always a huge event in town.”
She returned her attention to the woman. “Now, which of the festivals is closest to the grape harvest?”
And as easily as that, they were talking about wine and grapes and tourists. The pressure to get Simon to stay, forgotten.
“You’re very good,” he told her, when they escaped yet another determined citizen.
“The art of distraction. I’ve been practicing.”
“I appreciate it.”
“I’m a full-service girlfriend. You might have noticed.”
He picked up her hand and kissed her palm.
A waiter passed carrying a tray of champagne. Simon collected a glass for each of them.
They were in the ballroom of the hotel up on the mountain. It was an elegant resort designed with comfort in mind. Chandeliers glittered overhead. A small band played in a corner and the sound of conversation competed with the music. French doors led out onto a patio. Beyond that was an acre or so of grass before the mountains rose toward the sky.
He returned his attention to Montana. As always, he wanted her. He couldn’t be in the same room with her and not desire her. But more than that, he enjoyed her company. She was both arousing and comforting. A delicious contradiction.
