Daddy with a Deadline (10 page)

“Go ahead and eat. You must be hungry.”

She took a bite. “Mmm. No wonder you brag on Rosa’s cooking.”

Annie’s gaze drifted to the magnificent view of the ranch. “I see why you love it here. Just looking out the window brings a sense of peace.”

“You should see it at sunrise,” he said softly. “It takes your breath away.”

Annie could imagine Trent stretched out on his bed as the sun inched over the horizon. She pictured his rumpled pajama bottoms and dark tousled hair. Oh dear. She’d imagined the man shirtless! And that view proved breathtaking as well! Annie gave herself a mental shake and turned her attention to the enchiladas.

“Rosa’s right, you know. We did get some bonus time. And we’ll put it to good use.”

Trent’s use of the pronoun
we
disturbed Annie. Because of his loyalty to Brad, he’d adopted her as a pet project.

“What are you suggesting?” she asked cautiously.

“Isn’t it obvious? The nursery’s practically empty. Crib shopping’s next on our agenda.”

There it was again. The pronoun
our
. She’d better set the man straight and fast.

“My plans have changed. Mrs. Higginbotham found a bassinette in her attic and brought it over. And Sara’s sister is lending me another one. So stop worrying about the twins sleeping in dresser drawers. That’s not going to happen.”

“What’s a bassinette?”

“A basket-bed made specifically for newborns.”

Trent’s brow furrowed. “That won’t last long. Why not buy cribs right away? There’s a sale at Babyland...”

Annie eyed him skeptically. “How does a horse trainer know about sales at Babyland? Are you on their mailing list?”

“Actually, Rosa stopped by the store to check it out.”

“Rosa? Is she on the nursery-furnishing committee as well?”

“Will you lighten up, Annie? You have hard work ahead of you, and the right equipment will make life easier.”

He was right, of course. But Annie had to do this alone. When she’d married Brad she’d believed with all her heart that he would make a good husband and father. And she’d been dead wrong.

“Look, Trent. I need to make my own decisions and move at my own pace.”

“You mean a snail’s pace? If I’d gotten Brad’s letter sooner, we’d have more time to get ready. But our time is running out. The more we get done now, the less you’ll have to manage later.”

Part of her would love to give in—to let Trent lift some responsibility from her shoulders. But he’d just summed up their relationship in five words:
Our time is running out.

“I appreciate all you’ve done. And I mean that sincerely. But I’m too tired to make another decision. I just want to go home.”

Trent frowned. “What happens if the pains come back?”

Annie smirked. “They’d better come back. Otherwise I’ll be pregnant forever.”

Trent leaned closer, and his aftershave teased Annie’s senses.

“Promise you’ll let me drive you to the hospital next time? That you won’t hijack a stranger’s car and drive yourself?”

Annie chuckled. “No hijacking. If I land in jail, that won’t solve a thing. By the way, where is Eloise? Still at the intersection of Spring and Osage?”

“Safe in Wes’s garage. He’s checking her over.”

Still another rescue from the cowboy Brad sent. Annie hated being so indebted to the man. But couldn’t seem to manage on her own.

Trent reached up and stroked Annie’s cheek. His gentle touch caused a not-so-gentle sensation inside of her.

“You win, Annie girl. Come on. I’ll take you home.”

As they descended the stairs, Trent gripped her arm protectively. His touch felt strong and assuring. Being with Trent made Annie feel like a woman again.

He’d do the same for any little old lady crossing the street
, her conscience chided. And her conscience was right.

Rosa met them at the foot of the stairs. “I’m taking Annie home now,” Trent said.

“I wrapped some enchiladas for you to take along,” Rosa said. “And your purse is by the door.”

A glaze of tears coated Annie’s eyes. How wonderful to have such kind people to help. If only her babies could have others who really cared. Like a family. A real family. “Thanks, Rosa. Good night.”

“Good night, honey.”

As they left the ranch, Annie felt a tug of sadness. If she and Trent had met under different circumstances, maybe they could have built a relationship. A real one, not this contrived setup Brad had arranged.

When they reached her house, Trent said, “Can I see those bathtub contraptions?”

His question brought Annie back to the present. “What?”

“I’d like to see the twins’ new beds—supposedly a step up from dresser drawers.”

“They’re called bassinettes.”

“So can I see them?”

Annie longed to be alone to regroup after the stresses of the day. And the emotional confusion of being with Trent. But the cowboy stood on her porch like the Rock of Gibraltar. As usual, there was no deterring the man.

“I only have one so far.”

“I’ll get the general idea.”

Mr. Take Charge of Everything was back in business.

Annie sighed. “Come in, Trent. Let’s further your education on baby furniture.”

T
RENT FOLLOWED
A
NNIE
into the nursery, admiring the transformation. “Nice walls,” he said. “An outstanding paint job, I might add.”

“I agree. And if you recall, I helped.”

“Yes, you did.”

He scanned the room. “So where is it? This special bed?”

“Right there, Trent. Right in front of your nose.”

Annie pointed to an object in the corner. The lopsided contraption leaned heavily to the south. Straw jutted out at odd angles, and it looked like it was constructed during World War II.

“Please tell me you’re kidding. That’s a picnic basket on steroids.”

She jutted out her chin with annoyance. “Bassinettes are designed for newborns. See that mattress? That tells you it’s a bed and not a picnic basket. Mrs. Higginbotham gave me some sheets, and I’ll launder them and cover the mattress. Then you can tell it’s a bed,” she snapped.

Judging from the flush on Annie’s cheeks, he should have been more subtle in his response.

“But you can’t expect a baby to sleep in that.”

“Why not?” she yelled. “People have used them for years. If you knew more about newborns, you’d realize that small spaces are comforting to them.”

“Frankly, I like the dresser drawers better.”

Annie stared daggers at him. “Trent Madison, you are the most...” She sputtered helplessly as she searched for an appropriate description.

“What am I?”

Annie pulled herself to her full five feet three inches and glared at him. Her expression could scorch the hair off a man’s chest. “You’re the most strong-minded, manipulative, outspoken man I’ve ever met! Bar none!”

When she crossed her arms over her chest, actually over her protruding tummy, Trent hoped she didn’t have a gun handy. She’d blow him away.

A furious Annie was lovelier than ever. Something came over Trent—a power he couldn’t explain or control. He stepped forward and wrapped the belligerent woman in his arms. At first there was more sputtering, but he never shied from a challenge. After all, he tamed wild horses.

For a moment Annie struggled against him. Then she sighed and the struggling ceased. Trent gazed into those amazing eyes of hers and couldn’t help himself. He wanted to kiss her. He had to kiss her.

And he did. To his shock and delight, Annie let him. She even slipped her arms around his neck and leaned against him. Never in Trent’s life had he felt anything as wonderful as Annie’s arms around him. Until a moment later when she kissed him back. Her kiss sent the room, and the world, spinning at an alarming rate. If he’d thought Annie’s gaze could scorch, her kiss could start a four-alarm fire!

Trent pulled her closer and inhaled the sweet scent of lilacs that threatened to consume him. Annie’s mouth felt soft and pliant and, for once, wasn’t formed into a pout.

When the kiss ended, the room continued to spin. Trent took a step back, trying to reorient himself. That would take some doing.

Moments later, the glory faded and guilt kicked in. Brad was probably gazing down from heaven ready to throttle him. A throttling he deserved.

Trent studied Annie’s gaze to see what it contained. Panic. Definitely panic.

“Listen, Annie, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have kissed you.”

“You’d better reread your job description. It didn’t say a word about kissing.”

“I know that. I made a mistake. It won’t happen again.”

A small shudder escaped Annie’s lips that were again formed into a pout. And she just stared at him. Apparently she hadn’t felt the fireworks he’d experienced when their lips met. A shudder isn’t the response a man wants from a woman he has just kissed.

Trent backed his way out of the nursery. “I’ll call you tomorrow.”

She nodded.

“Will you be all right by yourself?”

She nodded again. Apparently she wasn’t going to contribute any more to this conversation.

“You can reach me anytime. I plan to eat, sleep, shower, and work with my cell phone beside me. When the pains start, you call me. Is that clear, Annie?”

He wouldn’t be surprised if the stubborn woman drove herself to the hospital a second time.

“Crystal clear.”

“Do I have your word?”

“I can’t drive anywhere. My car’s out of commission, which means I’m grounded.”

“I’ll figure something out. You can’t be stuck here without transportation.”

“I’ll manage,” she said.

“And forget about that kiss. I promise you it won’t happen again.”

She took a deep breath. “Thank goodness.”

“See you later.”

As Trent climbed into his truck, he knew he’d been wrong to kiss Annie. But he couldn’t get past the excitement of holding her close. Or the soft sweetness of her lips. Obviously, her experience was far different from his. She’d shuddered when he mentioned it and thanked him for promising not to kiss her again!

But why was he surprised? Dawn had pretended to enjoy his kisses and pretended her way right into marriage. At least Annie was up front about her response. And didn’t want another relationship any more than he did.

But controlling his response to her was the tough part. Was there a twelve-step program for men who couldn’t resist Annie Samuels? If so, he’d sign up tomorrow.

As Trent reached the ranch, he reminded himself, again, that he was here at Brad’s request. What he and Annie shared was a business arrangement, not a relationship. And if he kept his emotions corralled, he’d soon return to the life he loved. And be responsible for no one but himself.

Annie curled up on the sofa, as much as a huge pregnant woman could curl, and sipped her cocoa. Maybe the beverage would calm her jangled nerves. She grabbed a novel from the end table, determined to go somewhere else—a place that didn’t have tempting, overpowering cowboys!

Annie had read three pages when the doorbell rang. Trent again! She could not, would not, deal with the man anymore tonight. She flung open the door. “Will you please go away? I need time to myself.”

“Um, sure. If that’s what you want.”

Uh-oh. The voice was female. And the person on her porch was Sara. A slightly shell-shocked Sara.

She stood there staring at Annie with those big dark eyes and blinked rapidly. “I’ll come back later. Tomorrow, maybe. Or next week. Whatever.”

“Oh, Sara, I’m so sorry. I thought Trent came back to harass me. Come in, come in.”

“If this is a bad time...”

“It’s not a bad time.”

Sara stepped tentatively inside, probably fearing for her life. “I called you all day but you didn’t answer the phone.”

“I wasn’t here. I was sleeping at Trent’s.”

“You were
what
?”

“Last night I went to the hospital with labor pains but they stopped. Then Trent kidnapped me and took me to the ranch.”

“No kidding?” Sara’s dark eyes practically popped out of her head.

“Well, it wasn’t all bad. I slept for hours and Rosa fixed me enchiladas.”