THE TEXAS WILDCATTER'S BABY (6 page)

* * *

R
AND
EXPECTED
G
INGER
to give him the silent treatment once they settled in his pickup. Instead she turned to him and asked, “Do you know what is in the fridge back at the cottage? I didn’t have a chance to look.”

He sighed. “Condiments and beverages, mostly.”

She glanced at her watch. “The grocery store in Summit is open until ten. Do you mind if we stop there before we head back to Red Sage?”

Rand’s mood brightened. This was the first thing she’d done that was the slightest bit domestic, and he liked seeing this side of her. “Sure. No problem.”

While he drove, she plucked the notepad and pen from her bag and made a list. She tore it in two as they headed inside. “If we each take a basket, it will be faster.”

And, Rand noted, they needed to be quick since they only had fifteen minutes until closing. It took every moment of that to get the items she had assigned him. When they met up at the line, the clerk rang up the items, he paid, and Ginger bagged.

Only when they got back to the cottage did he have a chance to really see what they had purchased. Steak, chicken, ground beef. Lots of fresh produce and fruit. Cereal. Milk. Juice. Several kinds of flour and sugar, spices and other baking items. Eggs.

“You planning to cook?”

“Are you?”

He lifted an affable shoulder. “I can grill.”

“Well, I can do everything else.”

“Sounds like a plan,” he said cheerfully.

Ginger finished putting the refrigerator items away, then picked up the lone bag of chocolate sandwich cookies and a gallon of milk, and carried them, along with a glass, to the dining table.

She disappeared for a moment. He heard her hauling her suitcase out of the closet. More activity followed, then she came out with a bottle of prenatal vitamins in her hand. “Doctor’s orders,” she explained as she sank onto a chair and kicked off her shoes.

Rand moved to join her at the table. “Actually, there’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you...” He cleared his throat, feeling oddly out of sorts. “Have you had any morning sickness yet?”

“Thankfully...no. I’m hoping to dodge that bullet altogether. I have friends who have been green around the gills for their entire pregnancy, and that would put a definite crimp in my work schedule.” Relaxing with a mixture of fatigue and relief, Ginger poured herself a tall glass of milk, downed a vitamin and then opened the bag of cookies.

Brow furrowing, she studied the interior of the package.

“Is there a problem?”

“I’m deciding how many to eat.”

He loved the fact she was, and probably always would be on some level, a total mystery to him. He also loved how cute she looked when she was mildly perplexed. He sauntered closer. “Are we rationing them?”

She wrinkled her nose and returned, in the same deadpan tone, “If I had as many as I wanted, I’d eat the whole package in one sitting.”

Rand laughed, not surprised she was greedy when it came to pure pleasure. So was he. He pulled out a chair, turned it around, sank onto it and folded his arms along the back. “So how many are you going to partake in, then?”

While she considered, Ginger let out a sexy little sigh. “Mmm. Two is too little, six is too much, even though there are six in the individual snack packs they sell.” Her luscious lower lip pushed out in a delectable pout. She squinted, still thinking, and finally said, “Probably four.” Decision made, she took four from the center row of the package.

Rand took four, too, from the same row, leaving complete rows on either side of the pillaged one. “I haven’t had these in a while.” He got up to get a glass for himself.

“Me, either. But I got to thinking about them while we were waiting for the meeting to start.” She opened up a cookie and licked the vanilla cream out of the middle.

Rand nearly groaned.

The milk he was pouring splashed over the rim. Ignoring the hardness pressing against his fly, he grabbed a dishcloth and mopped up the mess. Returning to the table, he sat opposite her. “Is it your first craving?”

Ginger made a face, clearly resenting his question. “Hey.” She lifted a staying hand. “I’m trying not to be a cliché.”

Rand watched, his mouth dry, as she dunked a chocolate circle into the milk, swished it around delicately, and then popped the soggy confection into her mouth.

“You could never be a cliché.” Unbearably sexy and sensual, yes.

Oblivious to the ardent nature of his thoughts, and the growing hardness of his lower body, she shot him a skeptical look and sighed. “You say that now...”

He meant it now. She was without a doubt the most fascinating and infuriating woman he had ever met. The woman he wanted most to bed...with or without his wedding ring on her finger.

Ginger sighed and broke open another chocolate sandwich cookie. “But when my mother finds out...”

He studied the troubled sheen to her dark green eyes, the slight tremble of her lower lip. “You think your mom will be happy about the baby?” he asked softly.

Ginger groaned. “Over the moon.” She patted Rand on the hand, then stood. Finished with her snack, she headed for the bedroom. “And that, ‘honeybunch,’” she drawled over her shoulder, mocking his earlier faux endearment, “is when the trouble starts.”

Rand had no idea what Ginger meant by any of that. But sensing she needed her space, he let her have her privacy, only heading for bed when he was certain she was sound asleep.

* * *

W
HEN
HE
WOKE
the next morning, a little after dawn, she was already up. Papers, computer, maps spread all over the living area of their cottage.

She was still in her pajamas, glossy hair knotted on top of her head, a mug of decaf coffee in her hand. A pan of cold oatmeal was on the stove. “You know there’s a free breakfast buffet at the main house every morning,” he reminded her.

She nodded.

“We could go over together.”

She barely looked up from the mounds of data she was studying. “No time.” She flashed a wan, distracted smile. “You go ahead. And don’t come into my temporary office. I don’t want you looking at any of my plans until the Boernes ask you to do so.”

He lifted a palm. “Firewall. I swear.”

“Good.”

Rand went to breakfast, ate and brought her something back.

She looked at the plate he carried in stunned amazement.

“In case you get hungry later.”

For a second she looked longingly at the quiche and fruit salad, then went right back to what she had been doing. “Thanks, that looks really good. Mind putting it the fridge?”

“No problem.”

Aware he had his own appointments to keep that day, he headed out, only to come in contact with an attractive fifty-something brunette in their front yard. She was dressed in oversize denim work clothes and engineer-style boots. A backpack laptop case slung over one sturdy shoulder, her hands were filled with rolled-up maps.

Rand paused to tip his hat. “Maria Gonzales, I presume?” He recalled Ginger mentioning the previous night that her drilling partner, a happily married woman with three teenage sons, would be here every day, working with her. And this woman sure fit the bill.

Dark eyes twinkled. “And you must be the never-stops-working-either Rand McCabe—the guy who finally got Ginger to settle down again.”

Rand didn’t know about that. His new wife still seemed to have both feet as far out the door as she could get, without raising any more eyebrows than they already had.

Maria put her maps down long enough to shake Rand’s hand. “I never thought I’d see the day, but I’m glad I am. Ginger needs a big strong hunk of burnin’ love like you to spice up her life.” She winked. “And the fact you’re doing it with wedding rings on your fingers is even better.”

Ginger appeared in the doorway. Her elegant cheekbones were highlighted with a rosy-pink flush. “Rand and I may be hitched—”

Temporarily
, he could see that his new wife wanted to add, but wisely didn’t, lest she blow their cover.

“—but that doesn’t mean anything important about our lives is going to change,” Ginger finished, stubborn as ever.

The long-married Maria chuckled, picked up her maps and turned back to Rand. “I see you’ve both still got some ‘adjusting’ to do,” she teased.

Rand nodded, and just for the fun of it, hauled Ginger to him for a long, sexy, off-to-work kiss. “Uh-huh, and I’m aiming to help my beloved do just that.” He lowered his head and, ignoring Ginger’s soft gasp of surprise, pressed a hand to her spine and staked his claim with another steamy liplock.

Clearly shaken, Ginger broke off the kiss. Temper only he could see glittering in her dark green eyes, she flattened her hand across his chest and gave him a playful nudge, meant to throw off their audience. “Fun as this has been,” she feigned sweetly, “it’s time you went to task on something else.”

“What could be more important for a still-honeymooning couple than this?” Rand bantered back. He grinned, and just for the hell of it, he kissed his wife again, even
more
passionately this time. Her flush turned even deeper but there was no denying the subtle shift and surrender of her supple body, nestled against his. Eventually though, knowing they both had much to do, he let her go. “See you later,” he said. And heard only Ginger’s huff of embarrassment, and Maria’s laughter, as he strolled on down the walk.

* * *

W
HEN
R
AND
RETURNED
that evening, he expected to find Ginger and Maria still hard at work. Instead Maria’s van was gone and there was a familiar white Cadillac in front of their cottage with the license plate
#1TXMOM
, and a small U-Haul behind it.

Beside it was a yellow pickup with the vanity plate
WILDCAT
.

Rand stared at the vehicles in shock. Had Ginger known about any of this? If so, she hadn’t said anything about expecting either of their mothers to come by.

He cut the ignition, got out and headed for the front door. He did not know what was going on, but he sure as heck was going to find out.

Chapter Six

“Mom, please...” Ginger’s tired voice floated out the open cottage window.

Rand tensed at Cordelia’s reply.

“Honey, I’m sorry, but I have to be honest with you. I do not want to see you make the same mistakes that you made in your first marriage.” There was a long pause. “And from the looks of things, you’ve started your second marriage off on the wrong foot, too.”

“I really think,” he heard his mother interrupt kindly, “that all is not what it may seem.”

Figuring enough had been said, Rand walked through the front door.

Ginger was standing in front of the workstation she had made for herself, her hair still damp from the shower and coiled in a loose messy knot on top of her head. She was clad in one of his blue chambray shirts and a pair of her comfortable-looking khaki cargo pants and socks. She wore no makeup but looked sexy as all get-out, just the same.

Rand nodded at the three women. “Nice to see everyone.” He strode straight toward Ginger, took her in his arms and gave her the kind of kiss you would expect two people who were still technically in the honeymoon phase of their relationship, to give each other; the kind of kiss he had tried to give her that very morning.

This once, Ginger did not resist the open display of their passion. Maybe because she was as eager for respite from the familial scrutiny as he was.

Finished, Rand lifted his head. He caught the plea for help in her green eyes, then turned back to their mothers.

“So, what did I interrupt?” he asked.

Josie spoke first. “Cordelia called me while she was driving down, for directions to the place where you were staying. Since I just took a cottage here, I agreed to meet up with her in Summit and lead her out to the Red Sage.” She grimaced. “Unfortunately, there are no more cottages to be had. Hotel rooms, either, at the moment. Which is why I walked down to offer Cordelia lodging in my cottage this evening.”

Rand had to hand it to his mother. She might be a thorn in his side at times, but she also knew when to come to the rescue.

Ginger looked at Rand. “I also told Mom she could spend the night with us.”

“But I don’t think it’s a good idea to impose on newlyweds,” Cordelia told him demurely, “so I accepted Josie’s invitation.”

Thanks, Mom,
Rand thought, telegraphing her a grateful look. “How long are you staying?” he asked his new mother-in-law.

“Just this evening. I have to be back at work the day after tomorrow, but I wanted you and Ginger to have all the wedding gifts that have poured in for you.”

Ginger smiled pointedly at Rand. “I tried to tell Mom we don’t need any of those things at the moment...”

“And I told my daughter,” Cordelia explained, “that all the gifts will help her to properly set up housekeeping, wherever the two of you end up.”

Rand looked out the window. The U-Haul trailer attached to Cordelia’s Cadillac looked small, but he knew from experience just how much the 5 x 8 compartment could hold.

“But not to worry. I’ve already sent thank-you notes for the two of you, too.”

Rand blinked in surprise.

“Mom thinks of
everything,
” Ginger allowed tightly.

Cordelia caught the irritation underlying her daughter’s too bright tone, and swung back to her only child. She propped her bejeweled hands on her hips. “You’re telling me that you and Rand would have had time to do that in the next month?”

Actually, Rand thought, they wouldn’t have.

“Those notes had to go out,” Cordelia huffed.

“And we thank you for it,” Rand said. If this was an example of Cordelia’s usual helicopter parenting, no wonder Ginger was so flummoxed.

With an even brighter smile, Josie tried to push things along. “Back to the U-Haul.”

Rand jumped in before the situation deteriorated further, suggesting, “How about I do the heavy lifting and bring everything in?”

Cordelia beamed. “You’re such a dear.”

“I’ll go with you.” His mother followed him outside and down the short stone path to the vehicles. Together, they walked around the Cadillac and opened up the trailer. It was packed to the gills. As was, apparently, the trunk and interior of Cordelia’s Cadillac. Some of the gifts were still in shipping boxes, others just the store packaging. Rand handed one of the smaller boxes, marked Fragile, to his mother. “So what was going on back there before I walked in?” he asked casually.

Josie gestured for him to hand her one more. “Mother-daughter squabble.”

The distressed look on Ginger’s face said it had been much more. Rand took a large, heavy box marked Cookware. “Who was winning?” he mused.

Boxes balanced under her chin, Josie pivoted and headed up the walk. “Who do you think?”

As they neared the open window, Rand could hear female voices rising inside the cottage once again. He said, “I wouldn’t count Ginger out.”

“I’m not.” A new respect laced Josie’s low tone.

Their eyes meeting, they paused on the sidewalk. “Do me a favor?” Rand asked.

His mom nodded, amenable.

“Do whatever you have to do to divert Cordelia so I have time to talk to Ginger alone.”

* * *

“Y
OU
’
RE
SURE
YOU
want to go out for dinner this evening?” Cordelia asked a good twenty minutes later when all the boxed wedding gifts had been brought inside and stacked together in neat rows on the screened-in porch. It was the only place in the small abode where they could even hope to be out of the way.

With a smile, Rand jumped in to persuade her. “It will be a chance for the four of us to get to know each other better.”

“But we’ll need to get cleaned up first,” Josie commented, linking her arm through Cordelia’s. “So let’s walk down to my cottage.” She smiled. “We’ll stop by the office on the way, and speak to them about bringing in a roll-away bed.”

“I noticed a Help Wanted sign in the window, when I drove in.” Cordelia sounded worried. “Is the service here substandard, because of that?”

Rand caught his mother’s most patient smile as the two women exited and shut the screen door behind them. “I believe that posting has to do with the party barn operation,” Josie replied as their voices faded. “But we can certainly talk to Claire McPherson...”

Finally silence fell. The spring breeze blew through the open windows. Ginger looked at Rand, then the overwhelming amount of cardboard boxes, and let out a groan. “I don’t have time to mess with any of this.”

Nor should she have to, Rand thought.

He sat next to her on the love seat and took her hand in his. “It’s not that big a deal. We’ll take whatever you need out of them and put the rest in storage.”

“When? I still have work to do tonight.”

As did he.

He patted her arm. “Look, the gifts are fine where they are now, on the porch. We’ll get to them when we get to it.”

“I suppose that’ll work...for now.” Still looking distraught, Ginger ran her fingers through her damp hair. “I wasn’t planning to go out to dinner.”

Nor was he. He’d been hoping to have a night alone with his new bride, maybe figure out a way to get her back into his arms, wanting to make love with him again.

He pushed aside his own selfish desires. “It’s just one evening. You heard your mother—she’s leaving in the morning.” The two of them could deal with it. Especially if a good “performance” this evening appeased Cordelia and hence kept her from trying to “help” even more.

Another long, discouraged look. Ginger plucked the hair dryer from her suitcase, plugged it in and began blowing the residual dampness from the gleaming copper strands.

Enjoying the sight of her getting ready to go out, something he wasn’t usually treated to, he perched on the edge of the bed and watched.

Ginger bent from the waist. As she ran the dryer over the underside of her hair, her shirt gaped in front, giving him a very nice view of cleavage and lace.

Rand felt himself hardening again. A perpetual state of affairs...

“She’s trying to control my life,” Ginger complained, pouting as she switched off the hair dryer.

Rand shrugged and stood to ease the pressure. “So don’t let her.” He walked around, willing the blood pooling low to dissipate.

“Easier said than done.” Ginger shook her head. “You have no idea how smothering Mom can be, when she thinks—erroneously, I might add—that I desperately need her assistance.” Wearily she went to the closet. Her large suitcase was open, the clothes inside a rumpled mess. Her hair tumbled over her shoulders as she studied the choices, then finally plucked out a white knit shirt and a relaxed-fit navy cardigan.

Rand ambled closer, offering a sexy wink. “Not going to wear my shirt?” He ran a finger down her cheek.

Ginger flushed and stepped back, her hand flying to the buttons. “Sorry about that.”

Hungrily, he watched her undo one button, then another and another, as she swiftly undressed.

Suddenly she wasn’t the only one wishing they didn’t have plans for dinner out.

Unable to help himself, he moved close enough to see the shadowy valley between her soft, luscious breasts. Aware her spirits still needed bolstering, he bent and kissed the silky skin of her temple before giving her shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “Don’t apologize. I like the way you look in it.”

As elusive as ever, she danced away, slipped the shirt off and tossed it at him. He caught it and lifted it to his face. It was warm and soft and smelled the way she did—fresh out of the shower—like orange blossom and shampoo and woman. Figuring there was no need to let any of that go to waste, when he needed a clean shirt, anyway, Rand removed the shirt he was wearing and slipped on the one she had been wearing.

Grinning despite herself, she shook her head at him. “Our mothers are going to know what you just did.”

“So?” He waggled his eyebrows. “I don’t mind sharing everything with you.”
Including and especially a bed
.

Her mood improving, Ginger chuckled as she pulled the knit shirt over her head and then worked her arms through the sleeves. Her breasts, which seemed to get fuller every day now, were spilling out of the lacy bra. She tugged the white fabric down over her ribs, started to tuck it into the snug waistband of her otherwise loose-fitting cargo pants, then brought the shirt tail back out again to hide the slow but subtle changes in her slender body. She put the navy cardigan on and began buttoning.

“I really am sorry. I didn’t mean to confiscate your wardrobe. But I was in the middle of a wardrobe crisis when I heard the knock at the door, and I still needed a shirt, so I grabbed the first oversize thing I saw.”

“Which happened to be my shirt.”

Ginger picked up her makeup bag and carried it to the bathroom mirror. “It’s big enough to hide the very beginning of a baby bump.”

He lounged against the portal, making a careful survey of her still-slender body, and watching her apply a thin layer of moisturizer to her freshly scrubbed face. “No one can tell you’re pregnant.” Even he was having trouble discerning the changes. And he’d made an art out of studying every delicious inch of her, even before they’d hit the sheets that very first time.

She flattened her free hand against her tummy and checked out her profile in the mirror with a worried frown. “Yet.”

Rand picked up his electric razor. Figuring he might as well get rid of the day’s stubble, he ran it over his jaw. Finished, he reached for his toothbrush. “When do you want to tell our families?”

Ginger rooted through her cosmetics bag. “Not until it’s so apparent we have no choice.”

Fascinated, he watched her finish putting on her makeup. The process was quick; the results subtle but pretty. “I take it having your mom show up like this was not a happy surprise?”

Ginger put on a layer of gloss, then smacked her lips together. Finished, she reached for a pair of earrings and threaded them through her pierced lobes. The golden oil wells dangled sexily. “You see how my mom is reacting, and all we are is married?”

Rand nodded, aware the ultimate helicopter parent in Cordelia seemed to be operating on full speed.

Ginger shook her head miserably. “There’s no telling how much she’ll want to interfere when she finds out her first—and probably only—grandchild is on the way.”

* * *

T
O
G
INGER
’
S
RELIEF
, the first half of dinner with their mothers went well. Josie and Rand kept the conversation squarely on things they could all agree upon, but eventually Ginger’s mom brought the focus back to where she wanted it. The state of Ginger’s new marriage.

“Honey, I don’t mean to interfere—”

Famous last words,
Ginger thought, bracing herself.

“—but I really think you ought to forget trying to get your own business going, and go to work for someone else. Or better yet, not work at all while the two of you get settled into a new routine.”

“We’re already settled,” Ginger said.

Rand nodded. “I’m happy.”

He certainly
looked
happy, Ginger thought, then quickly warned herself not to get too excited, given the fact that he was just living up to familial expectations, same as she.

With another smile of encouragement, Cordelia pushed on. “The point is, marriage is an adjustment and the newlywed phase is something to be savored, not rushed through blindly. Don’t you agree, Josie?”

Put on the spot, Rand’s mother paused. “I think Rand and Ginger know better than we do what they need, Cordelia.”

“Still—” Cordelia ran a spoon through the frosting on her coconut cake “—it never hurts to take the time to get every detail set up properly.”

Unable to stop herself, Ginger cut in. “We’ve already done that, Mom.”

As always, Rand seemed to know where she was going almost before she did.

He gave her a look that advised her not to continue, but Ginger knew there was only one way to quiet her mother. “That’s why Rand and I saw a lawyer about drawing up both a postnup, to cover the financials, and a marriage contract, to cover everything else that could possibly cause us problems down the line. Because neither of us has any intention of leaving anything to chance.”