Authors: Cathy McDavid
Cassie stuck her head in the door, Blue by her side, and
announced in a loud whisper, “We’re done with our homework. Dad supervised, and
he guarantees Isa’s going to ace her spelling test. Can we watch TV now?”
Sage smiled fondly at Cassie. “Sure thing,
mija.
But only until nine.”
Dallas knew enough Spanish to understand the fond endearment.
How sweet. Sage and Cassie’s affection appeared genuine and—this was the
important part—natural. Dallas thought of her own family.
Hank cared for her; she knew that in her heart. But they
definitely lacked the easy camaraderie Sage and Cassie shared. At this stage,
Dallas and Hank were unlikely to find it. Unless, possibly, one of them tried
harder.
If she tried harder.
“You handle it well,” Dallas told Sage.
“Handle what?”
“Cassie. Your relationship with her. Can’t always be easy,
raising someone else’s child.”
“Oh, trust me, it’s not. She’s capable of being a
thirteen-year-old hot mess when she wants. There are days I want to... Well, I
can’t say. You might change your opinion of me.”
“Impossible.”
“Both Gavin and I are learning our way with Cassie.”
“From what I can see, he’s doing okay, too.”
“Once they connected, and that did take a while, it was as if
she’d never grown up anywhere else but at Powell Ranch and with him.”
“It still amazes me that he saw her only a few times before she
moved to Arizona.”
“Her mother calls every few days, but we don’t talk about her
much as a family. Or Isa’s father, for that matter. He sees her once a month.
Not at first, mind you. Last summer he had a change of heart. His new wife’s
influence, if you ask me. I, however, wouldn’t care if he dropped off the face
of the earth. Not after what he did to me. But for Isa’s sake, I allow the
visits and keep my mouth shut. She hasn’t quite fit in with her other siblings
or stepmother yet, though they’re making progress.”
“It might never get any better, take it from me.”
“Why do you say that?” Sage leaned forward to study Milo, who’d
begun to drift off.
“My mom’s been married to Hank for twenty-four years. I still
don’t feel like we’re a family or have anything remotely close to what you and
Cassie have.”
“Is he that bad?”
“No. He was strict with me and Liam when we were kids. I get
that now. Rules were his way of showing he cared.”
“Most kids struggle with structure. Cassie certainly does. Isa,
too.”
“Yeah, but Gavin’s easygoing. Hank’s as straight-laced as they
come. Prefers a traditional home. Man is the provider, woman cares for the man
and the children. Gavin’s not like that.”
“Dealing with your spouse’s children requires walking a very
narrow line.” Sage stood and lifted Milo from Dallas’s arms. “Not everyone
manages that successfully.” She carried the sleeping baby to the crib, laid him
down and adjusted the blanket.
Dallas remained in the rocking chair, her arms achingly empty.
Before too long, she reminded herself, she’d be holding her own son or daughter.
Except on the days Richard had the baby. How would she cope for even an hour
without her precious child?
That was the one and only reason she could think of to accept
Richard’s marriage proposal.
Dallas pushed up from the rocking chair and tiptoed behind Sage
out of the nursery and into the hall. There, she paused.
Right now, at this moment, she was strong. A few months from
now, or after the baby was born, she might turn into an emotional weakling. One
susceptible to marrying a man she didn’t love just because she couldn’t bear
giving up her baby on alternate weekends.
Chapter Seven
Conner waited on the stoop in front of the barn office,
watching Dallas attempt to start her car. How many times was she going to let
the engine grind like that before she gave up and went in search of help? He
supposed he should go over and save the battery before she drained it
completely, or flooded the engine with gasoline.
She was just shoving the driver’s door open when he approached.
Her welcoming smile made him glad he’d stopped by the office to have a look at
tomorrow’s schedule before heading to the apartment.
“Doesn’t sound like you’re going anywhere soon.”
“Whatever was wrong with the car last night is worse now.” She
expelled a frustrated breath. “My fault. I should’ve taken it in this morning to
be looked at, but I was running late.”
Conner didn’t think he would ever understand female logic,
though it did intrigue him. “Pop the hood. Let’s see what’s wrong.” He removed
the penlight he usually carried from his pocket. “My guess is your starter’s
faulty,” he said, after a brief inspection.
“Are you sure it’s not the battery?”
“You doubt me?” He found the prospect more amusing than
insulting.
“No. I’m simply hoping for an easier fix. One that could be
accomplished with a pair of jumper cables.”
“We can always try that. If it would make you happy.”
She wrinkled her brow. “How sure are you it’s the starter?”
“More sure it’s the starter than the battery or your
alternator.”
“Great.” She glanced around.
He could almost hear her mentally exploring her options.
“I’ll drive you home. You can call your mechanic tomorrow and
have the car picked up. Or Gavin and I can figure out a way to tow it
there.”
“I can’t impose on you like that. Let me call my parents.”
“It’s no imposition.”
“I live off of Hayden and Indian Bend Road. Twenty-five miles
away. That’s far.”
“You could spend the night here.” He gave her a slow smile.
“No!”
Her alarm at his suggestion was almost as amusing as her
mistrust in his mechanic skills. “You sure? Because the sofa bed in Gavin’s
family room is pretty comfortable. I’ve slept there once or twice myself.”
“The sofa bed?”
His smile grew. “Where’d you think I meant?”
“Nowhere. Gavin’s.” She fussed with her hair. “You were joking,
weren’t you?”
“You’re an easy mark.” He couldn’t see her face, but he’d guess
her cheeks were bright red and probably quite appealing.
Just as well it was dark outside. Conner already found her
appealing enough as it was, and harder every day to resist.
“Come on.” He nodded at her front seat. “Grab your purse and
anything else you need and lock up your car.”
“Thank you.” She collected her belongings and shut the door.
“Seems I’m doing that a lot lately.”
“Having car trouble?”
“Thanking you,” she said, as they began walking toward the
apartment and Conner’s truck.
“I don’t mind helping you, Dallas.” He opened his truck door,
supported her elbow as she placed a foot on the side rail and hopped in. “That’s
what friends do for each other.”
Friends,
he reminded himself again
as her shapely backside plunked down onto the seat. He had no business dating
any woman, much less a pregnant one whose baby daddy was determined to marry
her.
On the way to her place, she told him all about rocking Milo to
sleep. “He’s precious. Sage and Gavin are so lucky.”
“In more ways than one,” Conner agreed.
“Do you want kids?”
He sent her a brief look before returning his attention to the
oncoming traffic.
“I shouldn’t have asked that,” she blurted. “It’s just, you
were so good with Milo at the dinner table. And you dote on your sisters.”
“I do want kids. Eventually. When the timing’s right.”
“I used to think that, too. That I needed to have everything in
order first. Husband. Job. Home. Money in the bank. Only then could I start a
family. Well, as we both know, it didn’t happen quite that way. And it’s okay.
I’m going to be fine. The baby, too.”
“Because of Richard.”
“Not just him.”
“Has he asked you again to marry him?”
“We talk regularly,” she answered tightly.
Conner took that as a yes.
He thought of his former girlfriend and her daughter. If he and
Leeza had married, as he’d hinted often enough, he’d have a wife and
stepdaughter to worry about in addition to himself. They wouldn’t like living in
an apartment on a ranch.
Leeza wouldn’t, he corrected himself. Her daughter was another
story.
“Have you ever considered leaving the corporate world for
good?” Dallas bit her lip. “There I go again, asking personal questions that are
none of my business.”
“No, never. I refuse to quit looking for a job. I made a
mistake, taking a few months off after my termination. I assumed, with my
qualifications, I’d find employment right away.”
“A mistake? Why? Don’t you enjoy working with horses?”
“It’s not enough.”
“You miss the money.”
He turned off the 101 Freeway at the Indian Bend exit. “I’d be
a liar if I said I didn’t enjoy the luxuries my old salary afforded me. And
saying I miss the challenges of redesigning and updating antiquated production
systems is only half-true.”
“Pride?”
“In part. I was raised by a dad who taught me a man’s worth is
measured by certain things. Among them, his ability to provide for his family.
I’m not in that position anymore. But I will be again. Soon,” he added with
determination.
“You do know the ability to provide isn’t important to some
women.” Dallas looked out the window rather than at him.
“Would you respect a man who earned substantially less money
than you?”
“I respect a man who works hard, regardless of what he
earns.”
“But would you consider marrying him?”
“That’s not a fair question.”
“Sure it is.”
She turned away from the window to stare pointedly at him. “If
I loved someone, his earning ability wouldn’t matter.”
“Hmmm.”
“You don’t believe me?”
“A man worth his salt wouldn’t marry without having a good job,
love or not.”
She pondered his remark for a moment. “Would you go out on a
date with me if you hadn’t lost your job?”
In a heartbeat.
He’d have been
calling her the second he learned she and Richard were through, baby on the way
or not.
“What’s the difference, since I did lose my job?”
“I want to know.”
“Remind me, is your street east or west of Hayden?”
He felt her gaze on him, searching his profile for the answer
he’d refused to give.
“East,” she said after a long pause.
Their conversation came to a halt, except for Dallas giving
Conner directions to her town house.
He pulled up to the curb on the quiet side street and shut off
the truck.
“You don’t have to walk me to my door,” she insisted.
“Yes, I do.”
“Another one of those
certain
things
your dad taught you about men?”
“Can’t help it.”
He hurried, but didn’t quite reach the passenger door before
she was out and on the sidewalk. She rummaged in her purse for her keys. Finding
them at last, she started up the lit walkway toward her door, Conner beside
her.
“I’d invite you in but, given our recent conversation, I’m
assuming you’d refuse.”
She looked every bit as appealing in the city moonlight as she
had in the country.
“You can’t possibly know how much I wish circumstances were
different.”
“I think I do know.” She lifted her face to his. “Because I
wish they were different, too.”
His heart jumped. If not for the minuscule thread of control he
still maintained, he’d wrap his arms around her waist and find out at long last
how she felt pressed flush against him.
“Dallas.”
“Yes?” She bit her bottom lip, drew it between her teeth.
He swallowed and wondered at what point his throat had gone
bone-dry. “You have to stop doing that.”
“Why?” Without looking away from him, she dropped her purse and
portfolio onto the ground.
Oh, hell.
There were a hundred, a thousand, reasons not to get involved
with her, and only one reason to: he was crazy about her.
And just plain crazy.
He had to be. If not, he wouldn’t be sliding his hands into her
open jacket and seeking her mouth with his.
Dallas went pliant in his arms the instant their lips touched,
all lush, warm curves and intoxicating scent.
He was drowning, losing the battle, and he didn’t care. Not
about anything or anyone but her. He wanted more, of her, of their kiss.
Stumbling, he turned them both and pressed her into the front
door. Then groaned when she curled her arms about his neck and tugged his head
down, rising on tiptoes to meet him.
All thoughts of resistance fled as his hands moved from her
waist to her hips, liking the firm yet subtle slope of her womanly shape. Her
own hands were also busy. They traveled the length of his back, gripping him
with a need more ardent than Conner’s, if that was possible.
The kiss was nothing and everything like he’d remembered from
that one evening years ago.
She made a soft, sexy sound of pleasure and arched into him. It
was enough to remind Conner of their surroundings.
Rational thought seeped slowly in, urging him to stop before
they went too far. Nothing could ever come from this one moment of insanity. He
couldn’t take care of her the way she needed to be taken care of. The way
Richard could. Would.
Conner pulled back, the blood rushing through his veins causing
a deafening roar in his ears.
No, wait. The roaring was a car. It tore down the street,
growing louder, and coming to a gravel-crunching stop behind Conner’s truck.
Dallas and Conner flew apart, and not a second too soon.
The car door opened and Richard emerged. He took one look at
the two of them standing on her front porch step, and stopped cold in his
tracks.
* * *
“C
ONNER
.” R
ICHARD
ADVANCED
, hand outstretched. “I didn’t expect to find you here.”
That made two of them.
“How’ve you been?” Conner accepted the other man’s gesture of
goodwill, glad Dallas hadn’t turned on the exterior light. Richard wouldn’t
notice the line of sweat beading his brow.
He could feel Dallas’s eyes on him. She looked frazzled.
Embarrassed. Guilty.
If Richard hadn’t suspected anything before, he did now.
Conner kept his cool, his grip firm.
“I’ve been all right,” Richard said evenly.
He was dressed as always when not at the office. Jeans,
athletic shoes and a hoodie with the company logo on the front.
They’d been an unlikely pair, the jock and the cowboy. And yet
they’d been buddies. Good ones. Their love of their work and dedication to Triad
bonding them.
For the first time since he’d been let go, Conner missed their
friendship.
“He brought me home,” Dallas explained, her breathlessness a
giveaway. “My car wouldn’t start. I’m having it towed in the morning.”
“You were at Powell Ranch?”
“I delivered some pictures. For the book.”
“That’s right. The book.” Richard visibly relaxed. “Nice of you
to bring her home.”
He and Dallas weren’t engaged anymore. Conner had nothing to
feel guilty about. Yet he did. This was the father of her baby. The man who
wanted to make her his wife.
“Not a problem.” Conner took a step back. “I should get
going.”
“No, stay!” Dallas’s outburst appeared to take the three of
them by surprise. “What are you doing here, Richard?” she asked nervously.
“I’ve been trying to reach you all afternoon and evening. I
have some health insurance papers for you to sign. When you didn’t answer your
phone, I got worried. Thought something must be wrong.”
“Oh, that’s right.” Dallas rummaged in her purse for her cell
phone. “I switched the ringer to silent and forgot to turn it back on.”
“Don’t you check your phone?”
“I was busy,” she quipped defensively.
When Richard’s gaze landed on Conner again, it was direct and
unwavering. “Yeah, I see that.”
“Sorry about my phone,” Dallas said, “but as you can clearly
tell, I’m fine. And tired.”
Richard ignored the undisguised hint to leave. “I won’t keep
you long, I promise.”
It really was past time for Conner to go. Kisses aside, he had
no claim on Dallas. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” he said to her, imagining how their
goodbye might have differed without Richard’s surprise appearance.
“What’s going on tomorrow?” Richard asked, suddenly all
ears.
“I’m taking pictures of Prince. The mustang stallion,” she
clarified, at his confused expression.
“That’s right. For the book again.”
Conner didn’t understand Richard’s cavalier dismissal. The book
was important to Dallas, and so should be to him, as well.
Not Conner’s problem. Touching his fingers to the brim of his
cowboy hat, he walked away.
“Conner.” Richard caught up with him at the end of Dallas’s
walkway. “Since you’re here, there’s something I want to ask you.”
He must have seen more than Conner originally suspected.
There would be no explaining or defending himself. Not to
Richard.
“What’s up?”
“I don’t have the right to ask, and I sure as hell wouldn’t
blame you for not answering me.”
A different approach than Conner would have taken. In Richard’s
shoes, he’d have led with a right hook.
“Just say it, Richard.”
“I’m...” He chuckled humorlessly. “I’m having trouble with some
of your former team members. Most of them, actually. Rosco Burnes and Evelyn
Lancaster in particular. I understood at first. They liked you and were unhappy
to see you leave. I figured I’d give them a couple months to adjust. Only they
haven’t. I can handle their insubordination. It’s the stirring up trouble I
don’t like. Aligning the others against me.”