by Lori Wilde
“Maybe it’s Remington,” Casey said, referring to the third Lockhart brother, who was deployed in the Middle East. “Do you think it could be Remington?”
“Oh good Lord,” Tara scoffed. “I am not getting involved with a Lockhart.”
“I’d say you’re already inextricably hooked up with one.” Aria nodded out the kitchen window. Tara turned to see Rhett’s truck pulling up to the house, and her fool heart skipped a beat. “At least as long as Julie is your foster child.”
Rhett got out of the truck.
At the sight of his long, lanky body, Tara’s stomach churned. She ducked her head and slipped into the den, leaving her daiquiri behind. Maybe she should have downed the thing. She almost went back after it. Liquid courage for facing Rhett.
But no, she needed her wits about her.
She held out her arms to her mother, who was rocking Julie while Casey’s youngest, Dylan, napped in a Pack ’n Play. Tyler and Ingrid pushed toy cars around on the rug in front of the fireplace.
“I can take her now,” Tara said, anxious to have Julie in her arms again.
“I’ve got her,” Mom said. “Go enjoy yourself.”
“She was colicky last night.”
“She seems fine now.” Mom held Julie closer to her chest.
“Mom.” Tara put steel into her voice. “Please.”
“All right.” Her mother’s eyebrows tugged downward. Slowly, she eased the sleeping baby from her shoulder and slid her into Tara’s waiting arms.
Tara hugged Julie tight, felt her sweet baby breath warm the hollow of her neck, inhaled her magical scent. Instantly, her muscles relaxed.
“I wanna hold her,” Aria said from the doorway.
“Maybe later.”
“Baby hog.”
“Hold Cody. Kaia won’t mind.”
“Possessive much?” Aria gave her a you-selfish-wench stare.
“Julie is a preemie. She’s delicate. Fragile.”
“You don’t think I’m competent enough to hold an infant?” Aria snorted and sank her hands on her hips.
“It’s not that . . .” It was that exactly. Aria was such a flibbertigibbet.
“No? I think you’re still holding a grudge from when I gave Rhett your porcelain doll to practice his roping on.”
“You had no business coming into my room and giving away my things.”
“I was six.”
“And I told you to leave my stuff alone.” Even as she said it, Tara could hear the shrillness in her voice, knew this had nothing to do with the long-forgotten porcelain doll and everything to do with the man making his way up to the house.
“Girls, girls,” Mom chided. “You’re upsetting the children.”
Indeed, the kids had stopped playing and were watching Tara and Aria with wide eyes.
“I’m sorry,” Tara apologized. “I didn’t get much sleep last night.”
“So, can I hold her?” Aria raised her hands and wriggled her fingers in a “gimme” gesture.
“Yes.” Tara clung to Julie.
Aria’s hands went around the baby. “You gotta let her go.”
“She needs changing.”
“I can do it.”
Reluctantly, Tara loosened her grip.
“Oops.” Aria pretended to bobble the baby.
“Don’t!” Tara grabbed for Julie.
Aria danced away. “Relax, jeez, I was just kidding.”
“You don’t kid about something like that.” Tara put a hand to her chest to still her leaping heart.
“Ooh,” Aria whispered, tucking the baby into the crook of her arm and gazing down at Julie. “She’s so tiny.”
“Support her head.” Tara fluttered around her sister.
“I’ve held a baby before. Right, Kaia?” Aria hollered over her shoulder.
“She’s a good babysitter,” Kaia called from the kitchen.
“Aria keeps Vivi’s twins all the time,” Mom chimed in.
Tara could feel herself winding up. Not good. They were her family. They meant well. They wanted to help. She loved them to pieces, quirks and all.
Breathe.
She gathered a smile, hung it up to dry on her face. To prove she trusted her sister, she left Aria holding Julie and went back to the kitchen for the daiquiri. All the while, her ears were tuned for the sound of Rhett coming through the door.
She peeked out the window. Ridge’s pickup truck had pulled up beside Rhett’s, and the two brothers were standing in the front yard talking.
Tara felt Kaia’s hand on her shoulder. Jumped at her unexpected touch.
“It’s all going to work out,” Kaia said.
But what if Rhett had decided to take the baby away from her?
As if reading her mind, Kaia whispered, “Julie will always be a part of this family, no matter what happens with custody. Even if you don’t get to be her mother, you’ll always be her auntie.”
Tara nodded, unable to trust her voice. Being an aunt-in-law was all well and good, but it wasn’t the same as being a mom. Kaia should know that. But then again, Kaia had two beautiful, healthy kids. Motherhood was a breeze for Kaia. Her sister could afford to be glib.
They mean well, they mean well, she reminded herself. But none of them knew what it was like to desperately long for a child of her own and be unable to achieve what came so readily to most women.
God, why was she here? She should have blown off the Memorial Day weekend shindig and stayed home. Then she looked down at the baby, who was gazing at her from Aria’s arms with trusting eyes. No, everything she did was for the love of this child. It was the right thing to let Rhett see her. She could not regret anything. Tara nibbled a thumbnail, trying to vent some tension.
The men had come around the back of the house and were on the steps now. She could hear the sound of their deep voices, the scrape of their boots on the welcome mat.
She stared at the round gold doorknob shining in the sunlight. Saw it turn.
The back door opened, and Ridge walked in, followed by his younger brother. On their heels came Tara’s brother, Archer. Ridge went straight for his wife, pulled her into his arms for a long, searing kiss. Archer did the same with Casey.
Kaia giggled like a teenager.
“Still hear the humming?” Ridge murmured, nuzzling his wife’s neck.
“Always,” Kaia whispered. “Forever.”
All this lovey-dovey stuff was annoying. She’d never been a fan of PDAs. Tara glanced away, locked eyes with Rhett. The king of PDAs.
His stare bored into her.
No matter how hard she tried to look away, she simply couldn’t unchain her gaze from his. The bruising on his face was almost gone. The faded discoloration lent him the air of a rakish rogue.
“Where’s Julie?” he asked right off the bat.
“I’ve got her.” Aria appeared in the kitchen, cradling Julie in the correct way. Tara could find nothing to criticize.
Rhett’s face lit up like sunshine at the sight of his daughter. “Can I hold her?”
“She’s yours.” Aria transferred Julie into his waiting arms.
Tara knotted her hands into fists, and tendrils of tension twisted her stomach. She had to get over this possessiveness when it came to Julie. It didn’t serve either of them. But for the past five months, she’d put her heart and soul into keeping the baby alive. Fighting through one medical crisis after another until Julie finally stabilized. Tara couldn’t turn her feelings off and on like a switch.
The doorbell rang. More Lockharts arriving for the party—Duke, Vivi, their twins. The living room got more crowded as greetings and hugs were exchanged. But Tara barely noticed. She had eyes only for Julie.
And Rhett. She couldn’t stop staring at him.
Rhett grinned at his daughter and she gurgled happily.
“Aw!” Casey said, clasping her hands against her chin. “That is so adorable.”
Tara tried not to be obvious, but even when she wasn’t meeting Rhett’s gaze
head-on, she cut her eyes to the side, observing him from her peripheral vision. Taking measure of the man. There was something in the way he moved, as if the world was his oyster, and he didn’t even have to shuck it himself.
The man got away with murder. Things just fell into his lap.
Including babies.
Of course, he was a privileged Lockhart, heir to one of the richest families in the Trans-Pecos. He possessed all the flounce and flair that went with it. True West Texas royalty. But there was more to him than wealth and legacy and his larger-than-life bravado. He was a man comfortable in his own skin. He knew who he was, and Tara, who tended to second-guess herself, found his self-assurance sexy and alluring.
Dear God, had she seriously just thought that?
Sexy?
Alluring?
Rhett Lockhart?
Censor yourself, Tea.
She cocked her head and angled him a look from beneath her eyelashes. He was the most handsome of the Lockhart brothers, no doubt about it. And that was saying a lot, considering all four of them were drop-dead gorgeous.
Rhett had the most hair. Thick and wavy, light brown streaked with golden highlights. He was the leanest too, and muscular in a wiry way she found appealing. He possessed lightning-quick reflexes and a come-sit-by-me smile that charmed females from nineteen to ninety. His butt looked cover-model fine in a pair of Wrangler’s, and she could see the muscles of his thighs taut against the denim.
The kitchen grew unbearably hot.
“I need some air,” she mumbled and slipped outside.
Chapter 10
Slinger: A bull that tries to hit the cowboy with its horns while the contestant is on its back.
Confused and panting slightly, she staggered over to the lawn furniture underneath a wide awning. Sank down on a cushion warmed from the sun. The breeze was light. Balmy. A perfect spring day in the Trans-Pecos.
Resolutely, she blacklisted any thoughts that didn’t have something to do with peace, quiet, and tranquility. She needed a few moments before attempting to slay the dragon that was Rhett Lockhart.
“Hey.”
Inwardly, she groaned at the sound of his voice. So much for serenity. She turned to see Rhett standing beside her, holding Julie the way she’d taught him in parenting class. Whiskey-colored hair curling sexily around the tops of his ears. White cotton T-shirt. Starched jeans. Dammit, why did he have to look so good?
“She shouldn’t be in the direct sun,” Tara said.
Rhett heaved in an audible breath. “I get that I’ve got a lot to learn about raising a baby, but do you have to criticize every single thing I do?”
“It’s not all about you, sunshine. Surprise, surprise. My only concern is for Julie.”
“Mine too.” He sounded so sincere, she softened.
“Sit down here in the shade,” she said, scooting over so he could take the seat beside her.
“Thanks.” He eased down, and immediately she regretted inviting him. His masculine scent—soap, hay, leather—dizzied her. She inhaled deeply, but that only made things worse, his fragrance filling her head.
She smoothed down the hem of her shorts. His gaze tracked her movements. She remembered what Aria had told her about his kryptonite. Thank God she wasn’t wearing Daisy Dukes. Not that she even owned a pair.
He shifted, closer.
Her heart thundered inexplicably, and she slanted him a sideways glance.
His eyes were inscrutable, curtained by sultry lids and thick black lashes. A dusky growth of stubble covered his firm jaw, making him look altogether daring and yet . . . vulnerable?
Hmm, she’d never thought of him as vulnerable. It touched her. That unexpected susceptibility. Was Julie the cause of the changes in him?
She glanced out across the patio to the lavish pool Ridge had installed for Kaia because she was such a water nymph. It boasted a waterfall, slide, and diving board. Sweat rolled down the back of her neck, not so much from the heat but rather her nearness to Rhett, and she had a crazy urge to strip off her clothes and dive naked into the cool, welcoming water.
Instead, she kicked off her sandals and curled her feet up underneath her.
Rhett watched her every move. “I can’t thank you enough for taking care of Julie,” he said. “I think about you all the time.”
He’d thought of her? Tara’s heart did a strange swoopy thing like taking a tight curve in a racecar. Okay, this really had to stop. She could not keep reacting to him this way.
“And all the hard work that goes into being a parent.”
“Hard work, yes,” she said. “But it’s a labor of love.”
They sat in silence for several minutes. She was hyperaware of everything about him—his breathing pattern, the sexy dark hairs on his forearms, the sight of his broad hands gently cradling the baby.
Tara felt a flutter of emotion she couldn’t quite put her finger on. Admiration? Appreciation? No, it felt more delicious than that. A sweet burrowing deep inside her. Attraction?
Briefly, she closed her eyes. Dear God, she was attracted to Rhett Lockhart. Her heart punched into her rib cage like a boxer’s fist.
He shifted his knees toward her and settled Julie onto his lap, the wicker lawn furniture creaking beneath them in a way that made her feel nervous. “Tara,” he said. “We have to talk.”
His voice lowered, turned deeper, darker, plucking some primal chord inside her. She raised her chin. “I’m listening.”
But she did not want to hear what he had to say.
“I need to warn you . . .” His voice tightened.
A shiver shook her spine. Warn her? What about?
He leaned in even closer, his arm lightly brushing against hers.
She inhaled sharply at the contact. Felt her entire body tense. Was the touch accidental or on purpose? Was he trying to confuse her? Or throw her off balance?
But no, he looked as unnerved as she was, and he quickly redirected his arm. “Um . . . um,” he stammered. “That is, you need to know that . . .”
From the sheepishly determined expression on his face, she knew what he was going to say before he said it. Tara’s blood ran cold.
“Yes?” Her voice lifted like a helium balloon floating to the clouds.
“I’ve made up my mind. I’m filing for custody of Julie.”
She dropped her feet back to the ground, scooted away from him, stiffened her spine, tried not to let fear and disappointment overtake her. “I see.”
“It’s not my intention to hurt you—”
“So you’re giving up the PBR and your chance at the world championship?”
“No,” he said. “I’ve talked to my lawyer, and until Rhona’s parental rights have been revoked, the most I can hope for is temporary custody. My lawyer is hoping to clog things up in court so that I wouldn’t even have to take possession of her until after November.”
Take possession. As if Julie were an object. Anger spread over her like a rash. Tara couldn’t believe that for a few minutes there she’d thought Rhett had changed. Stupid, stupid woman. He was as selfish as ever. “Oh well then, that makes it okay.”
“Huh?”
“Lucky you. You get to stay on the circuit while I take care of your daughter, and then once everything has fallen into place, you’re going to swoop in and take her away from me.” Tara fisted her hands on her knees. “What a prince.”
Rhett looked surprised and then ashamed. “I hadn’t thought about it from your point of view.”
“Of course not. All you’re thinking about is how to get your own way. Just like always. You spare no thought for how your behavior impacts other people.”
His jaw muscle jumped. “That’s not fair.”
“Fair? No, it’s not fair. You’re a privileged jerk. You have no idea what it’s like for normal people. What it’s like to make a real living.”
“I can see I’ve upset you.”
“Damn straight. You’re a spoiled, entitled man-child. You don’t
deserve custody of your daughter.” Tara couldn’t hold back her opinion one second longer. Yes, okay, she was upset. And perhaps she was being a bit harsh. But it was time someone called Rhett on the carpet for his thoughtless behavior. He’d been skating through life for far too long. “Reality check, buckaroo. You’re not the only one with something invested here.”
He didn’t shoot back with a knee-jerk reaction to her knee-jerk reaction. He didn’t get defensive, nor did he try and turn her criticism around on her. He didn’t accuse her of being an uptight, judgmental harpy, which she halfway expected.
Instead, he met her eyes and said in a calm, steady voice, “Why do you dislike me so much?”
That honest question knocked a dent in her armor. That, and the fact that Julie was staring up at him with owl-eyed wonder.
She sighed and interlaced her fingers. “I don’t dislike you.”
“No?”
“‘Dislike’ means I have some kind of feelings for you.” She extended her foot, toed a crack in the patio concrete. “I don’t.”
“No?” His knee was dangerously close to hers.
She angled her legs in the opposite direction. The last thing she wanted was to touch him again.
“If you don’t dislike me, then why are you so hard on me?”
“Somebody has to be.”
He laughed then, a hearty, lively sound that both pleased and pissed her off. “You are a tough nut to crack, Tara Alzate.”
“So why bother cracking?”
“Because I need you on my side. I’m mishandling this. I didn’t consider how getting my lawyer to delay the court hearing would sound from your point of view.”
“Of course not. You’re a Lockhart. Your point of view is the only one that matters, right?”
“No,” he said. “You’re taking it personally. This isn’t personal.”
It certainly felt personal. “Isn’t it?”
“I’m sorry you’re getting caught in the crossfire, Tara, but I’m ready, willing, and able to assume care of my daughter.”
She drummed her fingers on the arm of the settee. “But not enough to quit the PBR.”
He looked unapologetic. “I’ve been working for this goal since I was a kid.”