The Cowboy and the New Year's Baby (9 page)

He saw the muscle work in her throat, felt her pulse fluttering wildly beneath his touch, but she didn’t jerk away, didn’t struggle to get out of the compromising position. In fact, she was so still, her gaze so watchful, he gathered that she intended to leave the next move up to him. Anticipation simmered between them.

It would have been so easy, so natural to kiss the parted lips just inches from his own. For an instant
he actually considered it, even ran his tongue over his own lips in readiness.

But then he saw the predictability of it, knew that that was precisely what she was expecting. Better, he concluded, to be disappointed himself at one missed opportunity and surprise her with his restraint.

Because he wasn’t a saint, he allowed her body to slide slowly along his until her feet touched the floor. Every inch of him was aware of the contact, ached with it. Still, once he was assured she was steady enough, he released her and deliberately backed away.

“Are you okay?” he asked, jamming his hands in his pockets to keep from reaching for her again.

“Fine,” she said unsteadily, her eyes filled with confusion, and maybe just a hint of relief.

It was the latter that reassured him he’d made the right choice. He knew he could get to her with a kiss, knew that the chemistry was explosive enough to lead to seduction when the time was right. But not yet, not when it would only prove every single rotten opinion she already held about him. Having the reputation of a womanizer had never especially bothered him before, because his conscience was clear when it came to each of the women he’d dated. Having Trish think the worst bothered him for reasons he wasn’t sure he really wanted to explore.

Slowly, and again with careful deliberation, he turned his back on her and retrieved his sandpaper and spackle. He went back to work as if the incident
had never taken place, as if his nerves weren’t jumbled and his pulse weren’t racing.

“Hardy?”

“Hmm?”

“What just happened here?”

He bit back a grin at the irritation in her voice. “Nothing, why?”

“It didn’t feel like nothing.”

He glanced over his shoulder to see that she was sitting on the chair now, regarding him with a perplexed expression.

“Oh?” he said innocently. “What did it feel like?”

She peered at him intently. “You honestly didn’t notice anything?”

“Darlin’, you’re going to have to be more precise than that. Notice what?”

She held up her hands in a vulnerable, helpless gesture that would have drawn another smile, if he hadn’t figured that was a sure way to get clobbered by a hammer.

“Never mind.”

He shrugged. “Whatever.” He forced his attention back to the job.

“Hardy?”

“Yes.”

“Why didn’t you kiss me just now?”

He swallowed a laugh at the plaintive note in her voice. Keeping his expression perfectly serious, he met her gaze. “You told me no more kisses. That was the deal, wasn’t it? I never go back on my word.
Haven’t I told you that?” He studied her an instant. “What about you? Have you changed your mind?”

“No, of course not,” she said impatiently, then sighed. “I suppose you think I’m totally perverse.”

He grinned. “No, what I think is that you don’t know your own mind. Let’s face it, you’ve had a bad experience with a jerk. You don’t trust your own judgment. I can wait.”

She eyed him warily. “Wait? For what?”

“For you to admit you want me.”

Her expression froze. “Want you?” she echoed as his very explicit response sank in. “Oh, no, you are definitely wrong about that. I absolutely, positively do not want you. No way. You can just get that idea right out of your head.”

He shrugged as if it made no difference to him one way or the other. “Oh well, maybe I was wrong.”

“You were. Absolutely.”

“Whatever you say.”

“Hardy, I am serious. Don’t go getting any ideas. I don’t do flings.”

“Of course not. No ideas,” he echoed. “I’m taking you at your word.”

Her gaze narrowed as if she sensed a trick, but she finally gave a little nod of satisfaction. “Good.”

“Besides, you’re a blunt, straightforward woman. I’m sure you’ll let me know if you change your mind,” he suggested.

“I won’t change my mind.”

“Okay, then. It’s settled. Can I get back to work now?”

“Of course.” She reached for the bag of chips and began munching them as if she hadn’t eaten for a month. After a couple of minutes she stared at them as if she had no idea how they’d gotten into her hand. Scowling, she dropped the bag as though she’d just discovered it was filled with worms.

“Anything wrong?” he asked.

“Not a thing,” she said firmly. “I think I’ll go sweep out the storeroom.”

He grinned as she backed out of the room, carrying the broom in front of her as if it was meant to ward off any unwanted advances.

Oh, she wanted him, all right. Hardy recognized the signs. Unfortunately he had no idea what he should—or dared—to do about it. He had a feeling that the longer he went on playing with fire, the greater the odds were that someone was going to get burned. He had an even stronger, even more troubling feeling that this time—for the first time in the history of his social life—it could be him.

H
ardy headed straight for Garden City the minute he and Trish wrapped up work on Saturday. He needed a drink. He needed a heavy dose of uncomplicated flirting. He needed to go home with a woman who wouldn’t wake up in the morning with expectations.

Of course, as usual lately, what he needed and what he got were two different things.

Harlan Patrick was seated at the bar, listening raptly as his wife performed her latest song in a test run before a very friendly audience. In this one, the romance had a happy ending and the tune was upbeat, reflecting the state of their marriage. Hardy was a whole lot more comfortable hearing about broken hearts. Those songs reaffirmed his cynical conviction that real love didn’t exist.

Harlan Patrick gestured toward the vacant bar stool next to him. “Join me. I’ll buy you a beer.”

Hardy figured the beer would come with strings attached. Harlan Patrick would probably waste no time pumping him for information about Trish and the state of the romance everyone in the Adams clan was hoping for.

“Sure, why not?” he agreed, hiding his reluctance. Hoping for at least a temporary distraction, he added, “Laurie sounds good.”

Harlan Patrick’s expression brightened. “She always does.”

“The song’s a little different from her usual.”

“Yeah. She’s worried about it, too,” he admitted. “She thinks happiness is boring and that she’s losing her edge. I keep telling her she could sing the phone book and her fans would be ecstatic.”

“I’m sure she finds that reassuring,” Hardy commented.

“No, as a matter of fact, she gives me the same ‘oh sure’ look you’re giving me.”

“Does she have another concert tour coming up?”

As Hardy expected, Harlan Patrick’s expression soured.

“Not for a few more months, but that’s too soon for me. I’m hoping there’s enough time for me to persuade her to do a television special instead.”

“You really hate it when she’s on the road, don’t you?”

Harlan Patrick nodded. “And now with two kids, there’s even more reason for her to stay put, but I
learned my lesson a few years back. If touring makes her happy, I’ll figure out a way to live with it.”

Laurie wrapped up her set, strolled over and put her arms around Harlan Patrick’s neck. “Hey, cowboy, buy a girl a drink?”

“You’ve got it,” he said, brightening at once.

Laurie grinned at Hardy. “So how much work did you and Trish actually get done today?”

“I see the White Pines grapevine is alive and well,” Hardy noted, ignoring the question.

“Indeed. Between Kelly, who packed the lunch, and Sharon Lynn, who crept next door to peek in the windows, we pretty much know everything,” Laurie said with unrepentant glee.

“Then why ask me?”

“Confirmation, of course. Plus spin. These secondhand reports lack all the juicy details.”

“Too bad,” Hardy grumbled. “Because I’m not talking.”

Harlan Patrick regarded him speculatively. “Is that so? I wonder why?”

“I never kiss and tell,” Hardy said.

“Of course you do,” his friend contradicted. “Why do you think the guys in the bunkhouse wait up for you? They’re living vicariously through you.”

“So, spill it,” Laurie said. “Do you like her?”

Now there was a dangerous question. Hardy considered his response carefully. “Of course I like her. She’s a very nice woman.”

“Nice?” Laurie made a face. “What a disgustingly lukewarm description. She’s beautiful.”

“You’ll get no argument from me about that.”

“Then you are attracted to her?” she gloated, putting her own spin on things.

“I never said—”

“Give it up,” Harlan Patrick advised. “Once these women get an idea into their heads, you’ll only make yourself crazy trying to convince them otherwise.”

“I thought your grandfather was the one I needed to watch out for,” Hardy said, unable to keep a plaintive note out of his voice. At the rate the number of matchmakers was multiplying, he might as well go out and buy the blasted engagement ring.

“Where do you think they get their inspiration?” Harlan Patrick retorted. “He won’t live forever and he’s making darn sure that others share his skill.”

Hardy noticed the amorous Rita watching him from across the room, her expression hopeful. He knew that a simple nod of his head would bring her over, knew precisely where it would lead. That was what he had wanted when he’d walked through the door, simple, uncomplicated sex.

Unfortunately all this talk about Trish had cooled his desire. He knew he’d never get her image out of his head, no matter how wickedly clever some other woman might be. He sighed with regret and forced his gaze back to Laurie and Harlan Patrick. He noted that the man was regarding him with undisguised sympathy.

“You going back into town to help her tomorrow?” Harlan Patrick asked.

“I imagine,” Hardy said reluctantly.

“Maybe we should go, too,” Laurie suggested. “We can make a party of it. I’ll call Val and the others first thing in the morning.”

Terrific,
Hardy thought. Not only would he have to contend with the frustration of being around Trish without doing anything about the attraction that was building between them, but he’d have avid witnesses to his resulting discomfort.

Maybe he just wouldn’t go. After all, if she had all that willing help, why did she need him? He wasn’t on her payroll until Monday. He could stay at the ranch and do something physical, something that would wear him out, something that would drive any and all thoughts of Trish Delacourt and her sexy little body and vulnerable eyes out of his head. Then he could take an icy shower for good measure. Maybe if he tamed every last trace of lust, he could get through the next week without losing his mind.

The store was crawling with people, so many that they were getting in each other’s way, then laughing good-naturedly about the ensuing chaos. Trish stood back and watched the various members of the Adams clan scrubbing floors, washing down walls, patching plaster and teasing each other with an affection she envied. Only Kelly was missing. She’d stayed home with Laura once again.

And Hardy, of course. Trish’s gaze shot to the
door each time it swung open, but he hadn’t shown up. She kept telling herself it didn’t matter, that he wasn’t obligated to be here today, but she missed him more than she wanted to admit.

“Looking for anyone in particular?” Laurie asked, sneaking up beside her.

“Of course not,” Trish denied, fully aware of the heat that scalded her cheeks.

“Well, if you are looking for Hardy, I think I’m responsible for him not being here.”

“Why on earth would you think that?”

“To tell you the truth, I might have scared him off,” Laurie admitted. “He was in Garden City last night.”

“Oh, really?” Trish said. “With a woman?”

The telling question popped out before she could stop herself.

Laurie grinned. “No, alone. Anyway, we got to talking after one of my sets. I suppose I was prying a little too much. It might have made him skittish.”

“Prying? About what?”

“The two of you.”

“There is no two of us,” she said vehemently.

Laurie chuckled. “Funny. He denied it, too. Almost as emphatically as you just did. Makes me wonder, especially since you seem to be so fascinated by whether or not he was by himself.”

“What exactly are you wondering about?” Trish asked warily.

“Why you’re both protesting so hard. What would be wrong with the two of you getting together?”

“Hardy is not interested in a serious relationship,” Trish said. “He likes chasing women, plural. I’ve just gotten out of one relationship with a man of similar inclinations. I don’t intend to jump back into that particular frying pan.”

Laurie nodded, her expression thoughtful. “Yes, I can see how that could be a problem. Then just be friends. Nothing wrong with that, is there?”

“I don’t think a man like Hardy is capable of being just friends with a woman.”

“Try it. He might surprise you.”

Trish recalled that he had said much the same thing. “I’m at the point in my life where the fewer surprises I have, the better.”

Laurie looked horrified. “Oh, don’t say that. If there are no surprises, you’re settling. You’re not living. Trust me, you’ll be bored to tears in no time.”

“After the past few months, boredom sounds downright refreshing,” Trish countered. She chuckled at Laurie’s downcast expression. “Don’t look so glum. My life is exactly the way I want it to be right now. I have a beautiful baby girl. I’m about to open a new business. What more could I possibly want?”

“Someone to share it all with,” Laurie suggested, clearly undaunted.

“I have all of you,” Trish said. “I feel as if I’ve found a whole slew of new friends.”

“Well, of course, you have, but—”

“No buts,” Trish insisted. “This is for the best.”

The door opened, and her gaze swung toward it.
Laurie chuckled at her obvious disappointment when it turned out to be Val and Slade.

“You’re deluding yourself,” Laurie told her with undisguised amusement. “But far be it from me to destroy the illusion. If you don’t mind, though, I think I’ll just sit back and see what develops. My money’s on love.”

Between the conversation with Laurie and a flurry of innuendoes from every other person who dropped by, Trish was downright cranky by the time she got back to Jordan and Kelly’s. She was also convinced that she needed to put some distance between herself and the meddling Adamses.

She headed straight for the portable bassinet Kelly had set up in the living room and picked up her daughter. Thankfully there was at least one person she could count on who wouldn’t be badgering her with questions about Hardy.

“How’s mama’s darling girl?” she asked the sleepy baby.

“She’s been a little angel,” Kelly assured her. “No fussing. Drank every last drop of her bottle and went right back to sleep. I kept hoping she’d wake up so I could play with her, but no such luck.”

“Thanks for taking care of her.”

“It was my pleasure. Besides, I had some help.”

“Oh?”

“Hardy dropped by.”

Trish stared. “He did?”

“Never really said what he wanted, but I assumed it was to see your precious little one. He fed her and rocked her as if he’d been doing it all his life. They
had quite a chat. I tried eavesdropping, but he kept his voice too low for me to hear,” she said, obviously disgruntled.

“Are you sure he didn’t come by to see Jordan or something?” Trish asked.

“Nope. He seemed to know that Jordan was out of town and that you were at the store.” She grinned. “I’ll admit, Laura was wailing and I sort of shoved her into his arms while I fixed her bottle, but when I came back into the room, he was cooing at her like a proud papa. He settled her right down. You should have seen him with her. It would have melted your heart.”

Trish didn’t doubt it. She sank into a chair. What on earth had possessed him to drop by? she wondered. Apparently the fact that he’d delivered Laura had created a more powerful bond than she’d realized, not just with her, but with her daughter. Just as obvious was the fact that he didn’t want her to know about it. He’d deliberately chosen to come by when he’d known she wouldn’t be there, as if he feared her making too much out of whatever attention he paid to the baby.

She glanced away from the baby’s face and realized Kelly was staring at her with a puzzled expression.

“You’re not upset because he spent time with Laura, are you?”

“No, of course not. I’m just surprised.”

“How did things go at the store? Did you get a lot of work done?”

“Yes.” When everyone hadn’t been busy prying
into her love life, she thought wryly. “Everyone was wonderful. But I can’t go on depending on all of you for everything. I need to start making my own plans for living arrangements.”

“Absolutely not,” Kelly said. “There’s plenty of room here, and we love having you. Once you get the store up and running, if you want to find your own place we’ll help you. In the meantime, I’m right here to look after Laura while you work. It’s winter, so there’s less for me to do on the ranch. I always get a little antsy this time of year. I’m glad of the distraction. Besides, if you moved now, you’d have to find a sitter. You can’t take Laura with you. She has no business being there while you’re painting.”

“I suppose you’re right,” Trish admitted. “Staying here for the time being does make sense.”

“Of course it does. So, that’s the end of that.” Kelly peered at her. “What brought that up out of the blue, anyway? Too many nosy people trying to run your life today?”

Trish grinned at the assessment. “Something like that.”

“Ignore us. No one means any harm. We just can’t help ourselves.”

“One person I could ignore. Maybe even two,” Trish argued. “But there are so many of you.”

“And we’re all right,” Kelly teased. “Still doesn’t mean you have to listen to us. Tune us out. Make your own decisions. Tell us to take a flying leap, if it suits you. We won’t be insulted. In fact, we’re used to it.”

“Yes, I imagine you are,” Trish said, thinking
that however many insults had been hurled at them over the years, they remained steadfastly undaunted when it came to meddling.

“Can I ask one last nosy question before I quit for the night?”

Trish regarded her with amusement. “Could I stop you?”

“Probably not.”

“Then go for it.”

“Are you even the teeniest bit tempted by Hardy? I mean the man is seriously gorgeous. Even I’m not too old to recognize that.”

Trish sighed heavily and admitted, “I’d have to be dead not to be.”

Kelly grinned. “Then we’re not wasting our time. Good.”

Too late, Trish realized that she’d just offered encouragement to an entire clan of matchmakers. Now they’d never in a million years believe that their cause was hopeless.

Hardy finally discovered a serious flaw in Trish. When it came to choosing the wood for her bookshelves, she couldn’t make a decision to save her soul. Unfortunately he found her indecision more amusing than annoying.

She hadn’t been satisfied with the selection at a local lumber company, so he’d suggested a trip to Garden City. Now they were surrounded by samples of maple, pine, oak, cherry and mahogany. She rubbed her fingers over the grain. She sniffed deeply, as if she might be swayed by the fragrance
alone. She studied the prices, punched numbers into her little pocket calculator and noted them on the paper they’d brought with measurements. Then she sighed and went through the same routine all over again.