by Alison Kent
By the time he returned, hands full with two foam boxes and a bag of plastic ware, she was fuming. “I hope you’re kidding about the party,” she said, snatching the food from his hands.
“Nope.” He backed the truck out of the parking lot and headed out to the county highway. “But to tell you the truth, the date had slipped my mind until I called for the pancakes and Rachel reminded me.”
“Who’s the party for?” she asked warily around her first bite.
“Well, actually, it’s for me.”
Her eyes widened incredulously. “And you forgot about it?”
“I didn’t forget the party. I just forgot it was tonight, what with all that happened yesterday.” He looked down at the rapidly dwindling breakfast. Both breakfasts. “Hey, how ’bout saving some of that for me?”
“Is it your birthday?” she asked and fed him a bite.
He chewed and swallowed before answering. “No. It’s a combination house warming and grand opening. Harley’s in charge, which means attendance is mandatory.”
She looked down, swirled the plastic fork through a puddle of syrup. “I don’t think I’m in the mood for a party.”
“I’m not exactly up for it either, but we’re both going to go. I owe it to Harley for all the work she’s done, and you need a break.”
“But, Cowboy—”
“Cowboy will be fine. He doesn’t need to sense you there worrying about him. Now c’mon. You can sleep for a while before putting on your party clothes. I’ll come get you early and we’ll drop by the clinic before we head out to my house.”
“The party’s at your new house?”
“Yeah, and I’ve got to show you the tub in the master bath. I swear Gardner’s out of his mind. It’s a pool. Big enough to swim laps in.”
She fed him another bite then finished his pancakes while no doubt thinking up a list of excuses.
“I can’t go,” she said and he heard the frown in her voice. “I don’t have any party clothes with me.”
Well, now, he hadn’t thought of that one. “I tell you what. We’ll go by Camelot first. Harley’s a bit taller than you but I’m sure she can fix you right up.”
“Are you saying I need to be fixed up?”
“No. I’m saying that Harley would love to get her hands on you just like she did with Gardner and me and Jud. It’ll be fun. Trust me.”
“Do I have a choice?”
“Not a one.” He pulled up in front of the cabin. After putting the truck in Park, he took both empty pancake boxes from her hands and tossed them on the floorboard. Then he reached behind her and knocked the plastic container of cookies to the floor, as well.
She looked from the floor to his face. “You don’t want those?”
“I want you,” he said and shamelessly took her mouth.
He couldn’t remember need ever being this strong before, didn’t know what he had done in his life before Sophie, wanted to crush her determination to leave.
And so he laid her back on the seat, one hand cradling her head, the other palm sliding from her throat to her breast to her belly to her hip. He claimed her, let her know with his hands and his mouth that this time he wasn’t going to let her get away.
Then he raised his head and said it. “I’m not thrilled with the way this second chance came about but I’m not about to waste it or be so subtle this time.
“I love you, Sophie. I want you to think about that for a while today. I want you to try it on. See how it fits in with your plans.”
Then he sat up, pulled her up with him, and opened the truck door. He hauled her out, guided her to the cabin steps, and left her there in a daze.
Sophie stood in the doorway of the cabin wearing her tan work boots, a pair of blue jeans, and a white T-shirt. This T-shirt had long sleeves and a daringly scooped-and-scalloped neckline. It was as frilly as she got. Now all she needed was a skirt. And shoes.
Tyler’s insistence that his sister-in-law could solve her clothing problem led Sophie to believe that she and Harley might be close to the same size. If not, well, there were always safety pins. Safety pins wouldn’t be much help when it came to shoes, however.
And Sophie traveled with minimum footwear—the work boots she was wearing now and a pair of black and white high-top Chucks. Neither of which went with a skirt and a scooped-and-scalloped long-sleeved white T-shirt.
Of course, worrying about clothes and shoes and parties was ridiculous when what she should be worrying about was what she was going to say to the man who was on his way to pick her up. The man she’d been thinking about all afternoon.
The man who’d told her he loved her.
The kiss he’d given her when he’d dropped her at the cabin was the first physical move he’d made since the morning after that one incredible night.
Since then, they’d forged a bond of friendship, a bond she knew was important because it encompassed her needs in a healthy combination of respect, care, and concern.
The only relationship requirement absent from her list was a warm, cozy, safe attraction. Instead, what they had was a wondrous heat, a steadily growing fire fed by conversation and tender touches and long, lingering looks.
The temptation of Tyler was more than lust and the knowledge frightened her. Frightened her enough to make her realize it was time to stop judging her future by her past. To find out the truth about rights and wrongs and chances.
And while she was searching, she would do her best to figure out why, in the long hours spent today deciding to explore this thing with Tyler, she hadn’t once considered how her decision would affect her search for her father.
At the sound of tires clattering over the new bridge, Sophie looked up. Tyler’s sexy red truck moved closer, the tinted windows obscuring all but the vaguest outline of his head and the shape of his shoulders. But that vague outline was enough.
Her stomach fluttered deep behind her ribs. Her palms began to sweat; she wiped them on the seat of her jeans, realizing as she did that she held her lower body taut to fight the tingling and emptiness in her belly.
She closed her eyes then and let it happen, testing, feeling, experiencing what she’d refused to embrace in the past. This uncontrollable physical response was what she’d cut herself off from, what she’d assigned to the type of person she refused to become.
But tonight she was happy. This feeling was all for Tyler, because of Tyler. He’d told her that he loved her, so she let her body take her away.
The truck rolled to a stop. He left it running, stepped down, and headed toward her, his black fringed lace-up boots polished, his dark blue Wranglers pressed, his silver belt buckle laying low beneath his waist. He wore a button-down shirt striped in blues and tans and a casually cut brown sport coat.
His hair picked up light from the afternoon sun and lay in that perfect cut that she’d admired the first day she’d seen him. It had grown long over the past six weeks, the ends hanging below his collar. But the cut was made to last and when he brushed it off his forehead, the strands settled in a sexy disarray.
He’d reached her now and his eyes were bright, the green the color of all outdoors. His gaze took in her hair then moved lower, to her eyes, her lips, stopping at her throat where her pulse beat like crazy. His lids grew heavy, his pupils darkened with arousal.
He raised a hand, ran a finger along her neckline, the rough pad a slide of sensation tickling her collarbone and the swell of her unbound breasts.
Her nipples peaked against the cotton of her T-shirt and a shudder had her closing her eyes, had her body straining, swaying, seeking his.
He moved his hand to cup her nape then fingered the tiny diamond studs—a graduation present to herself—she’d slipped in her lobes. She looked up in time to see him smile and the big bad wolf grin that spread over his face left her unable to breathe.
“You look good enough to eat.”
So do you, she silently answered but said aloud, “If your sister-in-law doesn’t have anything I c
an wear, I’m not going to this party.”
“Yes, you are.” His finger returned to her neckline, dipped low into her cleavage, teased her into a long slow moan. “You’ve dressed up those blue jeans just fine, darlin’.”
He was obviously blinded by the love he’d claimed. And after that moan, she could only hope he’d been struck deaf as well. She shifted uncomfortably, dislodging his hand. “Can we go? I’d really like to check in on Cowboy.”
“I spoke with Doc Harmon before leaving Camelot,” Tyler said, taking her elbow and guiding her down off the porch. “Cowboy’s sleeping fine. His blood count looks better. His breathing and his pulse are stable.”
“So he’s going to be okay?”
“It’s looking good.”
She jumped into the truck seat and stayed in the middle because it seemed to be where she belonged.
With the belonging came that weird sense of homesickness, that crazy feeling that she shouldn’t be feeling because this thing with Tyler had nothing to do with home.
Did it?
Sophie pursed her lips. Maybe that was another feeling she needed to test. Maybe she was searching for home and family in the wrong place.
Second chances were too few and far between, though, so she was determined to discover the truth. After all, being wrong wasn’t such a bad thing.
Was it?
NINE
CAMELOT’S MAIN HOUSE WAS A Western fantasy. Standing in the open doorway of Tyler’s truck, Sophie stared up at the two-story, white, frame house with lust in her heart. A covered porch ran the length of the front and along two sides and barn-red shutters flanked every window.
Miniature rosebushes in artfully tended and protected winter beds huddled close to the house, while the climbing variety lived up to their name, scaling the sections of trellis that formed a privacy screen between the porch floor and overhanging roof.
Sophie took a huge breath and remembered all the reasons she shouldn’t be here. This was a home like she’d never had, this was where Tyler had grown up. How much different could beginnings, ways of life, expectations get?
On the drive in she’d nearly drooled over the grounds, the barns and corrals and pastures spread out over acres of property. The cars and trucks and more trucks. The redwood deck and in-ground pool fenced off behind the house. The wooden swing set and jungle gym tucked protectively near the back door.
What was she doing here?
Why had she bothered with the earrings or the extra fluff she’d given her hair? She was so out of her league.
“C’mon, Prickle Puss,” Tyler teased, taking hold of her hand to tug her away from his truck.
She pulled her hand from his, crossed her arms over her chest, dug her heels in deep. “I shouldn’t be here. I can’t be here. I’ve changed my mind. Take me back.”
A screen door whacked shut and Tyler said, “Too late.”
He stepped behind her, forced her away from the truck, and locked the door, smugly bouncing the keys in his palm before shoving them deep into his pocket.
She mimicked his self-satisfied smirk, gave up all attempt to stand her ground, and surrendered to his determined forward motion. And when she looked toward the porch she knew without a doubt that the woman standing on the top step holding a baby in the crook of one arm was Harley.
She wore black lace-up half boots, black leggings, and a long-sleeve, oversize white tuxedo shirt. The cool wind whipped through blond hair that tumbled to her shoulders and her blue eyes shone like the bright winter sky. She looked completely out of her element, yet totally at home, and Sophie marginally relaxed.
Harley’s gaze followed their progress up the steps, skipping briefly over Tyler before scanning Sophie from head to toe and back again. A secretive smile pulled at her lips and her expression settled into one of pure female satisfaction.
She didn’t even wait for Tyler to make introductions. “Ah, Sophie. So, you’re what’s wrong with my brother-in-law.”
“Actually, he was already like this when I met him,” Sophie said and when Harley laughed in response, that homesick feeling settled in to stay.
“Very funny, both of you,” Tyler said, following Sophie up the front steps. He tugged teasingly at a strand of her hair. “You I forgive because you were led astray. But you,” he said, pointing to Harley, “can wipe that silly grin off your face.”
“No, way,” Harley said and increased the power of her smile. “I’ve waited for this moment far too long. I’m not about to give up this front row center seat.”
“Pay no attention to my sister-in-law,” Tyler instructed Sophie, tossing a warning glance Harley’s way. “Her sense of humor is suffering from birth. Or should I say, her sense of humor has been suffering since birth.”
Harley shifted the baby to her shoulder, settled the blanket around the tiny fuzz-covered head, and sending a playful wink in Sophie’s direction, breezed past Tyler on into the house.
“I wouldn’t be making jokes if I were you, Doctor D. Not unless you can take the heat as well as you dish it out,” she called over her shoulder.
Sophie was enchanted. The banter between the two adults was so fresh and so perfect and so rare in her experience where family exchanges had leaned toward snide and vulgar.
She followed Harley inside and when Harley stopped, she moved up behind, taking a minute to stroke a knuckle over the baby’s soft cheek, gently caress the soft downy head and tiny fingers that rested on Harley’s shoulder.
“She’s beautiful,” Sophie whispered. The dark gray-blue eyes focused on her face, the wee hand latched on to her own, tugging on her heart as surely as it tugged on her finger. She shut her eyes briefly and hugged the sensation close, letting it wrap her securely in its tender hold.
Oh, God, this was what she wanted, what she’d been missing all her life, what she’d spent years searching for, seeking, longing to discover, hoping when she finally found her father the magic would follow.
But standing here, tiny eyes studying her own, miniature fingers wrapped around one of hers, listening to Tyler and Harley’s teasing exchange, she felt for all the world as if her future had been defined in this moment.
Because this was the magic, this feeling of warmth and affection growing deep within, this sense of belonging and acceptance, this silent invitation to be a part of the joy. And she finally realized, for the first time she truly understood, that the bond of blood played only a part in creating a family’s love.
Harley craned her neck to watch the baby root at Sophie’s finger. “I’ve got to get this kid fed before I spring a leak.”
“Aw, Harley,” Tyler whined, closing the door behind him. “Don’t be talking about all that female stuff.”
She motioned Sophie forward. “My brother-in-law. He can pull a calf without thinking twice but he gags at the idea of breast milk.”
Sophie drew in a deep, steadying breath and followed Harley farther into the house. She was halfway across a comfortable living room full of male power furniture and livable antiques before she realized Tyler was still standing at the door.
She looked from his pained expression to Harley and back. “Tyler?”
Harley stopped and turned around, took in her brother-in-law’s dazed appearance, and rolled her eyes. She leaned forward and whispered to Sophie, “It was the breast milk that did it. Men. They love sex. But you mention reproduction and they go into huge apoplectic fits.
“Yoo-hoo, Tyler?” She waved her hand. “Gardner and the boys are in the barn with the new colt. Why don’t you head down there and let Sophie and me get acquainted?”
Tyler pushed away from the front door and headed toward the kitchen. When Sophie would have accompanied him into the spacious spick-and-span room, Harley stopped her at the doorway and directed her toward the foot of the stairs. “We’ll go upstairs to visit while I feed Dani so I won’t have to worry about offending anyone’s delicate sensibilities.”
“You know, Harley,” Tyler began, shaking his head, “I
don’t remember what I did in my life for hard times before you came along to give them to me.”
“And it’s always been my pleasure,” Harley replied.
“Oh, I don’t have a doubt about that.” Tyler pushed open the door to what looked to be a washroom set off the back porch. “Listen, I told Sophie you might be able to help her out with clothes for the party.”
“You know me well, brother-in-law. I’d love to,” Harley answered.
“Great. And if either of you is looking to make fun of me anymore”—he jerked a thumb that direction—“I’ll be out in the barn with the boys.”
“Good, because we have girl things to do,” Harley said, taking hold of Sophie’s hand and pulling her up the staircase. “Oh, Tyler. Are your keys in the truck?”
“I have them right here,” he said, digging into his pocket.
“Toss them on the table, will ya? Sophie and I are gonna go get gorgeous. You can ride down to the Animal Kingdom with Gardner and the boys and we’ll follow later in your truck. Just tell that husband of mine to leave Dani’s car seat on the porch.”
Tyler shook his head and grinned at Sophie. “What did I tell you?” he asked, then headed out the back door.
“What did he tell you about what?” Harley asked, leading the way up the stairs.
Sophie chose her words carefully. She didn’t want to blow the beginnings of what looked to be a very special friendship. “Just that you were a very in-charge woman. It was all complimentary.”
“Oh, I’m sure it was. And, even if it wasn’t, I’m not about to apologize for having a firm touch. You try living on a ranch with eight full-time hands, two grown men and their uncle, and now four children.”
“I’m impressed already,” Sophie said. They’d reached the top of the stairs and headed down the hall. “Uh, what’s the Animal Kingdom?”
“That’s what the boys, Austin, Ben, and Cody, have nicknamed their uncle’s house. They also call him Doctor Doolittle but I try not to rub that one in.”