She huffed, her eyes narrowing all the more. “Spending all your time alone?”
“Making the Silver Creek Ranch a cash-generating enterprise,” he corrected.
Sara seemed unimpressed. “By tearing down tons of trees and ripping down sections of old fence?”
He went back to snipping barbed wire. “First of all, the fence is so old it’s a hazard. Second, Texas barbecue restaurants need either oak or mesquite. And I’ve got plenty of both.”
Sara tapped one boot-clad foot impatiently. “And then what? When you clear-cut all this land?”
She sounded like his folks. Constantly complaining that whatever he was doing wasn’t enough.
He yanked out a rusting metal post and added it to the pile on the ground. “I’m going to plow the weeds and sow some grass. Put up new pasture fence and lease out the land to my brother Cullen so he can run some of his cattle here.”
Giving him room to work, she took a moment to consider that. Probably finally realizing he did indeed have a business plan.
“Not planning to buy any of your own?” she asked eventually.
He shook his head. The last thing he wanted was to be responsible for another living thing—person or animal. “Did enough cattle herding growing up.”
That, she did seem to understand. It didn’t mean she let up. Her gorgeous honey-blond hair blowing in the spring breeze, she followed him down the fence line. “You know, you could do all this a lot faster if you hired some help. Or even enlisted some of your family members and friends.”
Her unsolicited advice irked him. He turned and studied the guileless look in her eyes. “Don’t want me to be alone, huh, darlin’?”
She pursed her lips in a worried frown. “I don’t think it’s healthy and neither does your family, Matt.”
So now they were finally getting down to it, he thought wearily.
She stepped closer, once again invading his space.
Her soft, feminine voice took on a persuasive lilt. “Your mom came to see me. She thought maybe I could talk you into rejoining the community again.”
Matt shook his head at Sara’s naïveté. His mom hoped for a lot more than occasionally getting him off the Silver Creek spread. “She only did that because...”
Sara beamed, turning on the full wattage of her neighborly charm. “What?”
He edged closer. “She knows I’m attracted to you.”
She laughed in disbelief, the ambivalent sound filling the air between them. Her lower lip took on a kissable pout. “You’re just saying that to get me to leave.”
He surveyed her indignant expression. Leaned in closer. “Is it working?”
The look in her eyes grew turbulent. “No.”
He dropped his head. “Then how about this?” he taunted softly, taking her in his arms.
Rather than step away, she put her hand on the center of his chest, and gave him a small, purposeful shove.
That sent him exactly nowhere.
“No.” She glared at him heatedly. “But nice try, cowboy.”
He reluctantly let her go and stepped back, his own temper flaring. “Then maybe you should rethink this plan you and my mom cooked up. Because I’m not the guy who’s going to treat you with kid gloves, darlin’.” And he was pretty sure, at the end of the day, that was what Sara wanted.
Her eyes narrowed. “I don’t want you to treat me with kid gloves.”
He came back to her, took her in his arms again and lowered his lips, just above hers.
Damn, if she didn’t make him feel ornery.
He smiled as she caught her breath. “Sure about that?” He rubbed the pad of his thumb across her lower lip.
Her brows furrowed as she began to see where this standoff between them was likely headed. “Yes,” she said, stubborn as ever, trembling even as she held her ground.
Loving the delicate feel of her body so close to his, he asked, “Really sure?”
“Completely sure,” she taunted right back. “In fact, cowboy,” she went on to dare in spunky delight, “you could kiss me and—”
The gauntlet had been thrown down between them.
Matt never gave her a chance to blurt out the rest.
His mouth touched hers, laying claim to every sweet soft inch. Only, the indignant slap he expected—the one that would have heralded his immediate gentlemanly release of her, and her quick, fiery exit—never came.
* * *
Sara told herself to resist the sensual feel of his lips moving over hers. But her body refused to listen to the wary dictates of her heart. She had been numb inside for so long. Responsive only to the needs of her adorable infant son.
Now, suddenly, she was alive in a way she had never expected to be again. The yearning to be touched, held, appreciated for the woman she was came roaring back. Made her tingle all over. Opening her lips to his, she pressed closer to the unyielding hardness of his chest, and, lower still, felt his undeniable heat and building desire. With a low moan of surrender, she went up on tiptoe, wreathed her arms about his neck and tilted her head to give him deeper access. He uttered a low moan of approval. His tongue twined with hers. He brought her nearer still, delivering a kiss that scored her soul. Left her limp with longing and trembling with acquiescence. Her middle fluttering, she melted against him. And then all was lost, as she experienced the masculine force that was Matt. For the first time in her life, she was with a man who didn’t hesitate to give her the complete physicality she craved and had always longed to explore. Excitement roaring through her, she reveled in the thrill of his commanding embrace. The hard, insistent pressure of his kiss, and the tantalizing sweep of his tongue; for the very first time in her life, she experienced the temptation to surrender herself completely. Forget her worries about the future. Live only in the moment she was in.
Had her life not already been so complicated—full of the grief and guilt she still felt for not doing as much as she could have, or should have, when she’d still had the chance—and had she not intuited that Matt’s own private world was much the same as hers and her husband’s had once been, who knew what might have happened had their make-out session continued on this brisk and sunny spring day?
But they did both harbor secrets and heartache.
And combining the two would only risk further hurt. For her, for him, for her baby boy.
So she did what she should have done all along, and finally put her hand on the center of his chest and tore her lips from his.
Just that quickly, Matt let her go.
They stared at each other, breathing hard. To her surprise, he looked every bit as shaken as she felt.
Compelled to save them both and downplay this, however, she took another step back. Gave a hapless shrug, looked into his eyes and said, “Just so you know, cowboy, you’re not the first man who’s made a move on me since Anthony died.”
He was the first one who’d made her feel something, though. Too much, actually. Way too much.
Emotion warred with the skepticism in his eyes. “Trying to make me feel competitive?”
No! Heck, no! Sara thought, chagrined. “I’m just saying,” she returned as calmly as possible, “I wasn’t interested then. And I’m not interested now.”
The corners of his lips turned up as his gaze raked her luxuriantly, head to toe. “Your kisses just said otherwise, darlin’.”
Once again, she shook her head. Embarrassed. Humiliated. And worst of all, still wildy turned on. Swallowing around the ache in her throat, she held his eyes deliberately and corrected him. “My kisses said I’m human, Matt.” Human and oh so lonely, deep down. So ready to get out of my own misery and help someone else in need. Like you, Matt. And how crazy is that?
She waited a moment to let her words sink in. Then said, “As are we all.”
It didn’t mean she had to be a fool for a second
time.
And especially not with the far too irresistible Matt McCabe.
Chapter Two
“Is this a good time?” Matt asked, from the porch of Sara’s Blue Vista Ranch house the following Saturday afternoon.
For you, Matt McCabe, Sara thought, still reeling from the hot, audacious kisses he had delivered the last time they’d seen each other, there will never be a good time. Not ever again.
But not about to let him know how much he had affected her, or how often and passionately she’d thought of him over the last week, she merely looked him up and down.
The reality was, he was the last person she had expected to see standing on her doorstep, given how acrimoniously they had last parted.
But here he was, as mouthwateringly handsome as ever. Looking mighty fine in a blue button-down shirt that made the most of his brawny shoulders and rock-solid abs. New jeans that did equally appetizing things to his long, muscular legs and hips, and shiny brown boots. He’d shaved and showered, too, although his thick, wavy dark brown hair was just as unruly as she’d come to expect. His dark gray-blue eyes just as wryly challenging.
“Depends on why you’re here,” she replied tartly, wishing she were clad in something other than a peach tunic and white yoga pants stained with drool and baby formula. She looked down her nose at him, pausing to make sure he knew just how unwelcome he was. “If it’s to pick up where we left off last week...”
His sensual lips lifted into a tantalizing smile. Excitement lit his eyes. “Kissing you?”
She flushed at the memory of his delicious body pressed against hers, his lips stirring up needs best forgotten. She was a widow, after all. Determined to never make the mistake of turning her heart over to a man again.
Never mind the strong, silent, stubborn type.
“Arguing.”
He chuckled and ran a hand across his jaw. A wicked grin deepened the crinkles around his eyes. “Is that what we were doing?” he drawled, tilting his head.
So she wasn’t the only one who’d been remembering! Huffing in aggravation, Sara folded her arms tightly in front of her. “Let’s just say our discussion made me realize you and I will never be on the same page, McCabe.” And she refused to chase after lost causes, so...
An infant wail went up from somewhere behind her. Sara tensed in distress and lifted a staying hand.
Saved by the baby.
“Hang on a minute.” She rushed off to gather up her son and returned with the red-faced infant in her arms, ready to direct Matt on his way. Instead, she found him looking down at her little boy with surprising interest.
“This Charley?” Matt asked tenderly, taking in her son’s sturdy little body, cherubic features and shock of fine blond hair. The long-lashed eyes that had started out blue and were now more dark green.
Surprised, Sara asked, “You know his name?”
Matt shrugged as he and Charley locked gazes and the infant momentarily stopped crying, then ever so slowly began to smile. “I know a lot of things,” he murmured.
Charley reached for Matt, and when Matt offered his hand, the baby latched on tight to the tall cowboy’s pinky.
In the same soothing tone that would have done a baby wrangler proud, Matt continued, “Including the fact you’ve told everyone to give up on ever getting me involved in the West Texas Warrior Association’s therapy-puppy raising program.”
Sara had indeed put out the word.
Figuring there was no reason to stand in the doorway while they talked, she ushered him in. He shut the door dutifully behind them. “And that bothers you because...?”
Sara perched on the edge of the living room sofa, a little embarrassed by the mess around them. She settled Charley on her lap, while Matt—who still had his hand linked in Charley’s little fist—settled next to them.
Exhaling, the handsome cowboy looked deep into her eyes. “Since you talked to my mom, every member of my family has come out to the Silver Creek to see me.”
Glad to see the indomitable Matt off-kilter for once, Sara grinned. “What’s the matter, cowboy?” she teased, knowing there wasn’t a finer group than Rachel and Frank McCabe and their offspring. “Don’t like family?”
Appearing more besotted than ever of the tall rugged man with the deep, soothing voice, Charley reached up to hold on to Matt with both of his little hands.
Matt grinned down at her son, looking happier than Sara could recall in a long, long time.
Apparently realizing he hadn’t answered her question, Matt let out a long exhalation of breath, then turned his attention back to her once again. “I love ’em,” he said, before adding, “when they’re minding their own business.”
Sara regarded him pensively. She understood that. She had two college-professor parents and five older brothers who’d been in her business for years. Fortunately, all of them were now scattered across the country, busy living their own lives. And though she could have relocated next to any of them after Anthony died, she had chosen to stay on the small ranch where they had hoped to bring up Charley.
Part of that had been because she still considered the rural Texas county where she had grown up home, and hadn’t wanted the stress of finding another job at another veterinary practice and another place to live.
The rest had to do with her not wanting to clue any of them in on the private misery she’d been unable to share with anyone. Least of all those who might have judged her for not being the kind of wife she should have been.
But her own heartache had nothing to do with Matt’s problems now. She settled Charley a little more comfortably on her lap and drew a breath. “I get you have a problem, McCabe, but I don’t see where I come in.”
Charley finally let go of Matt’s finger.
Matt got up and paced over to the fireplace, stood with his back to it, admitting gruffly, “The problem is they’re not going to give up on what they want for me.”
Sara saw where that would be a problem for a man who professed to only want to be left alone. She bit her lip, acutely aware that things were getting way too intimate between them again, way too fast. “What? Can’t kiss them to make them go away?” she quipped.
He let out a belly laugh.
At the low masculine sound, so foreign in Sara’s small cottage-style bungalow, Charley’s brows knit together. He began to cry again, so heartrendingly this time it was all Sara could do to swallow the lump in her throat.
First she had failed as a wife. And now, this...
Matt frowned in alarm.
Sara’s lack of sleep made her own eyes well, too. She stood and began to walk the floor with Charley, jostling him a little as she moved in the hopes that the slight, swaying motion would soothe him. It did not.
“What’s wrong with him?” Matt asked.
That was the bitter irony. “I don’t know.” And as his mother, she certainly should have. She rocked him back and forth.
Matt strode closer, his handsome features etched with tenderness. He lifted his hand to Charley. This time, the baby howled all the louder and batted Matt’s palm away.
“Then why is he so fussy?” Matt had to speak up to be heard over the wailing.
Sara arched a brow, irritated to have him constantly finding ways to make her feel off balance, not to mention seeming more inept than she already was. “If I knew that, do you really think he’d still be crying?” she demanded.
Ignoring her pique, Matt gently touched her son’s cheek, as if checking for fever. Again, Charley batted his hand away.
Taking the cue, Matt backed off. “Is he sick?”
Glad to have someone to share her concern with, Sara shifted Charley to her other shoulder. She continued gently soothing him, as best she could. Looking over his blond head at Matt, she admitted, “I thought he might be since he’s so cranky and doesn’t want to eat, but he doesn’
t have any fever. He’s not pulling at his ears the way he did when he had an ear infection, either.”
“Is his throat red?” Matt asked, while Charley warmed to the audience and wailed even louder.
Was this what it would be like to have someone big and strong and male to share the parenting duties with? Telling herself she was really losing it, Sara pushed the ridiculous notion away. “I can’t answer that, either. I haven’t been able to get a good look.” And in fact, she had been considering going into the emergency pediatric clinic in town, if this went on much longer.
Matt pointed out, “His mouth is open now.”
Figuring as long as she had help she might as well use it, she retrieved the flashlight she kept on the kitchen counter. Then turned back to Matt. “You want to hold him?”
For the first time, Matt hesitated.
“Listen, cowboy, either be part of the solution or leave. Because I don’t need any more problems today.”
From the pen in the corner of the living room, Champ, the nine-week-old black Labrador puppy Sara had been trying to get Matt to help socialize, lifted his head and began to jump up against the three-foot wooden sides of the whelping pen, in rhythm to Charley’s wails.
Matt turned in the direction of the noise. He locked eyes on the puppy.
And in that instant, Sara knew.
Matt wasn’t a dog person.
Not in the slightest.
Not anymore.
* * *
Matt swore silently to himself as he clamped down on the memories he worked so hard to quash.
When he’d set out for Sara’s ranch, he’d figured he would see her baby. He’d even been sort of looking forward to it. Why, he couldn’t exactly say.
He hadn’t figured she’d have one of the pups from the litter there. But she did and as the puppy continued whimpering with excitement and trying to climb over the sides, it was all he could do not to break out into an ice-cold sweat.
Over a harmless little black Lab pup, of all things.
“Matt?” Sara’s hand was on his arm. Her tone as gentle as it was inquiring.
McCabe's Baby Bargain Page 2