McCabe's Baby Bargain

by Cathy Gillen Thacker

  He caught her hand before she could shimmy out of her jeans. “Because once again you’re not addressing what you need.”

  “Yes, Matt, I am.” She moved into his arms, taking the initiative and pressing her lips to his. With a low growl, he found himself succumbing to the desire he had promised himself, for both their sakes, he would never resurrect again. Blood thundered through him, and he reveled in the taste and feel of her. Yet he knew what he had to do.

  With a groan of frustration, he sifted his hands through her hair and tore his mouth away. “Sara...”

  Her lower lip, so soft and pink and bare, trembled slightly. Yet her feisty resolve remained.

  She splayed her hands across his chest. She kissed his jaw, the skin behind his ear. “I want you to stay, Matt.” Her nipples protruded from the satin of her bra as she reached for the buttons on his shirt. Twin spots of color brightened her high cheekbones. “I want us to go back to making love, and being there for each other, whenever, however, we each need,” she confessed softly, vulnerability shimmering in her pretty green eyes. “While at the same time,” she continued persuasively, “not judging each other for any of our flaws. Or resenting each other for what we can’t seem to give.”

  Hands on her shoulders, he forced himself not to think about taking her to bed again. “We need to slow down, darlin’,” he warned. “Talk about this.”

  “Why?” Hurt warred with the frustration in her eyes. “When I feel like you get me and accept me the way no one else does, or ever will! I want to be close to you, Matt. Closer than we’ve been this last week.” Her slender body trembled. “What is so wrong with that?”

  Nothing. At least so far as he could figure in his heart. He could hardly chastise her for wanting to live her life to the fullest in any way she chose, when he was resolved to do the very same thing in his. “You make a compelling argument,” he said gruffly.

  “Good.” She guided him over to the sofa. As soon as he sat down, she slid onto his lap. “Now, where were we?”

  Saying to heck with caution, he reached around behind her and unhooked her bra. “In a wagonful of trouble.”

  She laughed softly. “Trouble can be fun...”

  He cupped her breasts, his body hardening as he felt her quiver. “Pretty much everything about you is fun.”

  She lowered her face to his. “Right back at you, cowboy,” she murmured back, then kissed him with a sensuality that further rocked his world. Her soft pliant form surrendering against his, she threaded her hands through his hair, moaning softly. He cupped the silky globes of her breasts with both hands, drawing first one rosy bud, then the other into his mouth. And still she melted against him and held him as if she never wanted to let him go.

  Loving her unfettered response, he lifted his head. Exhilarated by the fact she was about to be his...again...he rasped, “Any special requests?”

  She laughed softly. “Your choice.”

  Pure male satisfaction poured through him. “Even better.”

  He eased his palm past the edge of her panties, finding the damp, soft nest. She moaned as he stroked. Eager to please her, he kept kissing her, while continuing his slow, sensual exploration. He stroked her repeatedly, light butterfly touches that had her shuddering. Kisses and caresses that had her melting.

  They switched places and he knelt before her, stripped off her panties and positioned himself between her thighs. Holding her open to him. Loving her. Until she twisted against him, no longer able to hide the totality of her response.

  As eager to please him as he had been her, she unbuttoned his belt, undid his fly. Slipping her hands inside, she found the hot, hard length of him.

  Their reactions were simultaneous. He groaned. She trembled with pleasure.

  Caught up in something too elemental to fight, she bent to love him. Until he, too, could stand it no more. He found a condom. Together, they rolled it on.

  With a growl of satisfaction, he stretched out over top of her and brought his whole body into contact with hers. Hands beneath her hips, he spread her thighs and slid inside, penetrating deep. She gasped and kissed him back, to his delight, just as ravenous for him as he was for her. And then they slowed it down. Taking their time. Drawing out the unimaginable pleasure. Until there was no more holding back, no more waiting. She was wrapping her legs around his waist, drawing him deeper, surrendering to his will, even as powerful sensations layered, one over another.

  He lay claim to her lips and her body, as he wanted to lay claim to her heart and soul. Until she was kissing him back, more ardently than ever before. And this time, when they came together in shattering pleasure, he knew there was no going back, for either of them.

  For long moments they lay locked together, quivering with delicious aftershocks of their passion, catching their breath. Worried he might be too heavy for her, he rolled onto his side.

  She moved with him. Emitting a happy sigh, said, “I have to tell you, cowboy, I could sooo get used to this.”

  He propped his head on his elbow and gazed deep into her eyes. “Same here, darlin’.” He stroked his fingers through her tousled hair, pressed a gentle kiss on her temple.

  Her gaze grew dreamy. “Want to spend the night?”

  More than you’ll ever know.

  Wary that could ruin everything, however, he clasped her close and pressed another kiss on the top of her head. Wishing things were different, said, “Remember that speech you gave me earlier, about not asking or expecting us to give anything we don’t feel able to?”

  She nodded.

  Rising, he reached for his clothes. “Well, this is one of those things I shouldn’t do.”

  Hurt flickered briefly on her pretty face. “Because we’re not married and not going to be?”

  That is definitely part of it. But not all. Not nearly. “Because you’ll sleep better without me here,” he said.

  Chapter Thirteen

  To Sara’s delight, the week that followed was a lot more romantically satisfying than the previous one. Matt showed up to help her every afternoon, then stayed for dinner and the bedtime routines for Charley and Champ. The only thing he wouldn’t do...wouldn’t even consider doing...was spend the night after they’d made love.

  Which in turn made her ruminate. What was really preventing him from actually sleeping with her? Was he a bed hog? A restless sleeper? Insomniac? Did he snore? Just really hate to snuggle? Or did this have something to do with the PTSD she’d been suspecting he had? Sara couldn’t begin to figure it out, and he didn’t want to discuss it, so she was still wondering about his motivation when he arrived at her home late Friday afternoon, just in time for Champ’s training session.

  “What is he going to work on today?” Matt asked, cuddling Charley, who had just woken up from his nap.

  “You’ll see.” Sara grinned, proud of how much progress the little black Lab was making.

  Using a simultaneous combination of hand signal and verbal command, she walked Champ out to the back patio. Said, “Champ, sit!”

  He put his rump on the ground, and kept his eyes on her.

  “Stay!”

  The pup remained perfectly still. She waited a second, then backed up several paces. “Champ, come!”

  He rose and trotted to her side.

  “Sit!”

  He sat obediently.

  She patted the ground in front of his paws. “Down.”

  Champ stretched out, his tummy on the ground, too.

  “Good boy, Champ!” Still praising him warmly, Sara hunkered down beside him and petted the top of his head. “Good boy!”

  She rose to her feet once again.

  “Champ, stand.”

  He rose with canine grace. Stood looking patiently at her.

  “Wow,” Matt said. “He’s got it all down pat.”

  Sara smiled proudly. “He
does, doesn’t he?” She took Champ’s leash and led him over to his spot in the grass, where he promptly relieved himself. “I can’t wait to show him off at the reunion picnic tomorrow.”

  “Any final word on where it’s going to be yet?” he asked.

  Sara nodded, not so happy about the predicted weather, and the necessary change in accommodations. “The rain is supposed to start around nine this evening and continue until midnight tomorrow. So the event has been moved to the WTWA building in Laramie.”

  Matt grinned down at Charley, who was now patting Matt’s jaw with both of his little hands. He paused to kiss Charley’s fingertips, then turned his attention back to Sara. “Will it hold everyone?”

  She paused to let Champ get a drink from his outdoor water bowl, then led him back inside. “There are three levels of meeting rooms and a large covered patio out back, so yes, it will.” Sara directed Champ to his mat on the floor and handed him a nylon chew bone.

  She washed her hands, then took Charley from Matt and settled her son in the high chair next to her. “Although it won’t be as accessible an event as usual, due to the fact everyone won’t be scattered across one large space.”

  Looking devastatingly handsome in a blue chambray shirt and jeans, Matt lounged against the counter, arms folded in front of him. His hair was clean and rumpled and he smelled like soap and cologne. The faint hint of evening beard clung to his jaw.

  “That’s too bad,” he said.

  As intensely aware of him as ever, Sara shrugged. “It will still be fun.” She walked into the pantry and emerged with canisters of flour, regular and confectioner’s sugar, and a tin of cocoa.

  He didn’t look convinced but deftly dropped the subject.

  “So. What are you making?” he asked, nodding at the eggs and butter coming to room temperature on the counter.

  “Our contribution to the feast. Two large sheet pans of fudge brownies.”

  He waggled his brows in anticipation. “Can I help?”

  She handed him the box of Cheerios for Charley. “Keep me company. And lend a hand if either of our two little ones need something.”

  Matt scattered dry cereal on Charley’s tray. “They look pretty content right now,” he observed.

  Charley was snacking on Cheerios, watching everything that was going on around him, while Champ was lying on the floor next to Sara, his nylon puppy chew bone clasped between his little paws.

  “They do.”

  Sara slipped a chef’s apron over her neck.

  Matt stepped behind her to tie it, his hands brushing her spine in the process.

  Tingling from even the light contact, Sara smiled her thanks and stepped back to the counter to consult the recipe. “Hard to believe it’s his last night here.”

  Matt watched as she broke eight eggs into a bowl.

  “You going to be okay, saying goodbye to Champ tomorrow?” he asked in the gruff-tender voice she loved.

  Aware it was her turn to keep her feelings tightly locked away, Sara put the softened butter and sugar into the bowl, and turned the stand mixer on low. “I probably wouldn’t be if I hadn’t made a point to not get too attached to him.” She forced herself to focus on the task at hand. “But I know he’s going to be with Alyssa Barnes and her family.” And that was, she knew, a very good thing for the returning wounded soldier and Champ.

  Matt nodded his approval. “They were really nice when we met them.”

  Sara measured vanilla into the wet ingredients. “And she’s so excited about working with him, which will in turn help her in own recovery.”

  Matt stepped back to give her room when she added the flour and cocoa to the mixing bowl. He looked down at Champ, and Sara thought, but couldn’t be sure, Matt had a brief gleam of affection in his eyes.

  He looked back at Sara, his expression implacable again. “How long will Alyssa Barnes have him?”

  “About two years, or however long it takes for him to complete all of his training and be permanently paired with a disabled veteran.” Sara spooned the batter into the pans. “At which point, she’ll have a chance to start all over again, with another puppy.” Finished, she removed the paddle and offered it to him. “Which is what most of the program volunteers do. Helping out like that can be pretty gratifying.”

  He scooped off a taste with his fingertip and then gave it back to her. “I can see that.”

  She savored the chocolate mixture, too. And thought about kissing him again. Knowing that if she did, he would not only taste like rich chocolate brownie batter, but also the dark male essence unique to him.

  Aware she was running out of time with Champ and Matt, she gathered her courage and said, “By the way, I know our deal was for one month.” Which had flown by way too fast. “But I want you to know,” she said huskily, “you are welcome here anytime.”

  Matt wrapped his arms around her waist and brought her close for one long, sweet kiss. Melting into the embrace, she kissed him back, sliding her hands across his solid muscular chest. When he’d finished, he looked down at her tenderly. “You and Charley are welcome at my ranch, too. Anytime.” He rubbed his thumb across her lower lip, clearly savoring their time together every bit as much as she. “No invitation required.”

  * * *

  Sara and Matt spent the rest of the evening, sharing a quick and easy dinner, and caring for Charley and Champ. When both little ones were down for the night, he helped her cut up the cooled brownies and pack them into foil serving pans.

  “Tomorrow’s going to be a long day,” he said, when they’d finished. “I probably better head on home.”

  Maybe it was presumptuous of her, but she’d been looking forward to whiling away the rest of the evening with him, now that their little ones were fast asleep.

  “Sure?” she said. “There’s a new movie on Netflix you might enjoy.” She grinned saucily. “I’ve got popcorn...”

  He shook his head. “Thanks, but...some other time, okay?”

  He brought her close for a scorching hot good-night kiss, hugged her one last time, then smiled again and slipped out the door.

  Flummoxed, Sara stood on the porch waving as he drove away. It wasn’t the first time he had exited before ten in the evening, or even the first time he had left without making love with her during the last week.

  Since their “misunderstanding,” he had been working hard to refrain from any behavior that might seem at all overfamiliar.

  To treat her with courtesy and respect and make sure she knew that as much as he appreciated and desired her, that he also respected her space, and her need for privacy.

  But tonight his courteous exit felt different somehow. Like some mysterious wall was between them. Like there was something he didn’t want her to see.

  And late the next morning when he arrived to take her and Charley and Champ into town, he was even more scrupulously polite.

  “Is this everything?” he asked, as he stacked Champ’s food and water bowls, chew toys, sleep towel and leash in a box on top of his travel and sleeping crate.

  “Just about.” Sara looked at the water sluicing off the eaves. She slipped on her raincoat and hat. “I just need to take him out to go one last time before we head out.”

  The only problem was, Champ didn’t like the rain or the wet ground. She walked him around and around on his leash, waiting for him to squat and relieve himself. To no avail.

  He was having none of it.

  Finally, Sara gathered him in her arms and took him inside the house. He was soaked to the skin and shivering. She was equally drenched.

  Matt handed her a towel from the stack by the back door. Sara started with Champ’s head and ears, and gently blotted the moisture from his silky black fur. As much as she could, anyway. Then she worked her way over his shoulders, down beneath his belly and legs, and paws. He leaned into her, snuggling close, t
he way he had so many times, and suddenly it hit her. This was the very last time he would be her responsibility. The tears she’d been holding back flooded her eyes.

  She blinked them away furiously. Matt turned away. But not before she saw the moisture shimmering in his eyes, too.

  Was this what he’d been hiding from her the previous evening? The fact that despite all common sense, he’d gotten attached to little Champ, too?

  * * *

  Several hours later, Garrett Lockhart, the doctor and former army captain who helmed the WTWA and also ran his family’s charitable foundation, caught up with Matt near the buffet tables. The one place in the facility where, to Matt’s relief, dogs weren’t allowed.

  “Hey.” Garrett grinned at Matt who was there hanging out with Charley. “I just met Champ. You and Sara did a great job bringing the little pup along. He’s incredibly relaxed and outgoing.”

  Except, Matt thought guiltily as Charley kicked his foot against his chest, dislodging his baby moccasin in the process, he hadn’t done much of anything to help socialize Champ. Yes, he had cared for baby Charley while Sara worked with the cute little puppy. And he’d supervised Champ for a couple of hours while Sara grabbed some much needed sleep. He’d also helped Champ acclimate to his training crate. But he hadn’t stopped to personally greet or pet him, or cuddle him the way Sara did, even once.

  Not about to publicly admit that, though, Matt smiled, demonstrating the cheerful attitude the event attendees expected to see from him.

  “All Sara’s doing,” he admitted with a shrug, while trying to retie Charley’s shoe with one hand. Not easy, given the way Charley was situated in the BabyBjörn hooked over Matt’s shoulders. “All I did was watch over Charley here while Sara did all the work.”

  “Speaking of baby wrangling...” Hope, Garrett’s wife, interjected. She smiled when Charley kicked his moccasin all the way off and it went sailing in the air between them. Then bent to pick it up and moved forward to help put it back on. “I have to ask. How did Sara talk you into doing that?”