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The By Request Collection. Kate HardyЧитать онлайн книгу.

The By Request Collection - Kate Hardy


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before we get all serious? Look over there. Funnel cakes. I’m dying for one. I bet you are, too.”

      “I, uh...”

      “Don’t you remember how much we used to crave those things? With all the fixin’s, too. Strawberries and whipped cream, the more powdered sugar the better. You game? Come on,” he said, taking her hand again. “I’m about to die of starvation.”

      She rolled her eyes, but a big smile emerged regardless of the company she was in. She was craving a funnel cake, too. They were available only once a year, at this carnival. This was her chance to indulge in a gooey, deep-fried concoction with all the heart-stopping extras. “Okay, sounds good.”

      “Delicious is a better word, sweetheart.”

      She wasn’t his sweetheart and she was ready to tell him, but a few young women and two school-age boys butted into the line, asking Trace for his autograph. He seemed genuinely delighted, giving them each individual attention as he took their names and signed their tickets, flyers, whatever paper article they could produce. Trace had made a name for himself in the field of bull riding. As far as rodeo champions went, he was equivalent to a soap opera star rather than an Academy Award winner, but to the folks around these parts, he was a local hero. Trace ate up all the attention.

      “Sorry about that, Ruby,” he said, guiding her toward a two-seater café table.

      “Do you get that a lot?” she asked, curious now.

      “Some,” he said, trying for humble, though his grin gave him away. “More and more.”

      Then his grin faded as his gaze roamed her face, and he sighed from deep in his chest. “I’m sure glad to see you. I’ve been lonely for you, honey.”

      “Last I checked, you broke up with me, Trace.”

      “I never did. Not officially. I, uh, like I told you on the phone, I had to focus on my career, and that meant blocking out everything else.”

      “That’s not exactly comforting, Trace.”

      She’d felt fully and totally dumped, and there was no way he could salvage what happened between them by using phony excuses.

      “Only because being with you was so damn distracting. When we were together, you were all I could ever think about.”

      He was talking like a man still in love, and if Ruby was that same gullible girl he’d left behind, she might have swallowed that line again. “When you care for someone, you call. You want to know how they’re doing. You—”

      “I made mistakes. I’m not denying it.” He played with his fork but didn’t dig into the funnel cake he craved. “But I’m home now, for good.”

      “What does that mean, for good?”

      “It means I’m gonna stay on in Cool Springs.”

      “You quit the rodeo?”

      He smiled sadly. “I think it quit me, Rube. I’m not cut out for the life. I’m never gonna make it big. Not like I wanted. I gave eight years of my life to the rodeo.”

      “But you love bull riding.” He’d been nineteen when he won his first local rodeo, and the entire town had gotten behind him. Some small businesses in the area sponsored him so he could pursue his dream. It seemed strange to her that he would give it up now. Yes, it was a young man’s sport, but he still had years left in him.

      “I did. I loved it, but it didn’t love me back, Ruby. I gave it my all, and I hope I didn’t lose you as a result of my pursuit. I just never got where I wanted to go, and I’m done with all of it. So I’ll be home now, just like we’d planned. If I’m lucky enough to win you back, I’m staying put right here.”

      For her equilibrium’s sake, she had to ignore the winning-you-back part. This was all too much to take in. She straightened in her seat to keep from showing her total surprise. “So, what will you do?”

      He shrugged. “Dad’s getting on in years. He wants me to take over the ranch full-time.”

      It didn’t sound like Trace. He’d always had big plans, and none of them included becoming a local rancher. He was Texan through and through, but Ruby had begun to believe his true heart was elsewhere.

      “I saw you on television the other night. Homestead Hills?”

      “Oh, that. Yeah, I did that on a whim. Met some casting guy at the rodeo who said I’d be perfect in the role. I gave it a try, is all.”

      “A try?” From what she’d heard, people busted their butts and did all sorts of crazy things to win a role in a hit TV series.

      “Nothing much came of it,” he said dismissively.

      “You haven’t touched your funnel cake,” she said, finally raising her fork and digging in. The airy pastry, all sugared up, got her taste buds going. When she finally swallowed, a burst of deliciousness slid down her throat. “Mmm, it’s good. I shouldn’t, but I think I’m going to eat every last bite.”

      Trace smiled, his gaze focused on her mouth for several beats, and suddenly her insides quaked and her belly quivered. Those familiar yearnings returned. She couldn’t believe that one year ago, they’d been doing this very thing: eating funnel cakes and talking about their future.

      “Soon as I start,” he said, lifting his fork and gazing into her eyes, “this here dessert is gonna be history.”

      True to his word, Trace demolished his funnel cake.

      Ruby wound up leaving half of hers behind. Her stomach was tied in knots once everything Trace had said to her finally sank in. She’d been raised to forgive with an open heart. But would she be a fool to do so?

      As they rode the Ferris wheel, circling to the highest point, sitting hip to hip, their legs brushing, they took in the nighttime view of all of Cool Springs, the moon and stars appearing close enough to touch. Trace took her hand, entwining their fingers, and gave her a slight squeeze. In that moment, she saw a glimpse of what life with Trace could be like again.

      And a few moments later, Trace set his money down at a gaming booth and wasn’t satisfied until he hit the bull’s-eye target with a dart gun to win her an adorable stuffed reindeer. “Here you go, miss,” he said, bowing and presenting her with the toy.

      He used to be her hero.

      Could he be again?

      She was as confused as ever, with the Trace she remembered returning to her and saying all the right things, making her feel like she mattered to him. She was a long way from forgiving him...and then there was Brooks.

      A sigh blew from her lips, and Trace turned to her. “What?”

      She shook her head. “Nothing. I should go.”

      “You sure? We haven’t gone into Santa’s Village yet.”

      “I’m sure.”

      Disappointment dimmed the gleam in his eyes. “Okay, I’ll walk you to your car.”

      He took hold of her hand again. She didn’t want to make a fuss by pulling free of him, so they walked hand in hand into the parking lot.

      Now’s your chance. Tell him you’re not taking him back. Tell him he hurt you and...

      The words didn’t come. She couldn’t yank them out of her throat. Not when he was being so dang sweet and trying so hard to impress her.

      When they reached her car, she hoped to make a quick getaway. Launching into her handbag for her key fob, she moved away from him, breaking their connection. “Good night, Trace. Thanks for the funnel cake,” she said, opening the car door.

      He glanced at her hand on the door handle and knew enough not to press her tonight. “I’ll call you tomorrow.”

      She should tell him no. There was no point. “Okay.”


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