by Judy Duarte
She’d hoped that, over the past nine years, Matt and his father would’ve buried the hatchet, but apparently they hadn’t. From what little the old Matt had told her in the past, his father had really hurt him. And it didn’t look like the new Matt had gotten over it.
Matt took another drink of coffee, then he turned toward her. “Why have you waited so long to tell your dad about the baby? I’d think you’d want to get it over with.”
She drew in a deep breath, held it for a beat, then let it out slowly. “If I had my way, I’d wait to tell my dad until the baby takes his first step.”
Matt’s brow furrowed as he pondered her response.
She probably should explain. “When he finds out, he’ll pressure me to return to San Antonio, which I’ll have to do anyway when I sell the condo and line up the movers. But once I’m back in the city, Gavin is bound to find out I’m pregnant. And I’d rather that didn’t happen until it’s not as easy for him to do the math and realize the baby is his.”
Matt arched a brow. “I thought you said you weren’t afraid of Gavin.”
“I’m not afraid for myself. It’s just that he might petition the court for visitation, and I know the baby wouldn’t be safe with him. So I’ve been dragging my feet to protect both kids, since I don’t want him showing up at my house—even for holidays.”
Matt pondered her words for a beat, then said, “If Gavin had any suspicions, you could tell him the baby’s mine.”
Chapter Ten
You could tell him the baby’s mine.
Damn. Hearing himself blurt out a suggestion like that surprised Matt as much as it had clearly taken Miranda aback. Then again, maybe not.
She continued to gape at him, her eyes wide and unblinking, as if he’d shown up at a rodeo wearing only his hat and boots. The fingers that held the delicate handle of that fancy pink teacup trembled until she lifted her free hand to steady it. But even supporting it with two hands didn’t seem to help much.
Matt reached for the teacup before she dropped it to the floor, took it from her and placed it on the saucer that rested on the coffee table.
At that, Miranda blinked, and her stunned expression shifted into one that appeared more perplexed.
“Are you serious?” she asked.
He wasn’t sure. He hadn’t planned to offer her any advice, but for some stupid reason, the words had rolled off his tongue the second that wild solution had come to mind.
But what was he worried about? It wasn’t as if he’d offered to pay her child support on an eighteen-year plan—and for a kid who wasn’t his.
So he shrugged off his reservations and gave her the best explanation he had. “You’re not the only one who doesn’t want that guy showing up at your house.”
A deep crease in the center of her brow suggested that she might be pondering his crazy idea and considering any other options she might have.
He doubted that she could come up with anything else that would keep Gavin out of her life.
Maybe she was worried about the possible repercussions they could face if they did lie about the baby’s paternity. And there were sure to be some.
Her father’s temper came to mind. The man had an image to protect, and he would have a conniption fit if he thought Matt had fathered another one of Miranda’s kids, both of who were illegitimate.
Not that Matt got any pleasure from Miranda’s current situation—neither this pregnancy nor the one he’d been responsible for. Besides, he would have married her in a heartbeat if she would have told him about Emily.
As he thought about her father’s reaction to the news of Matt being the father of her second child, a smile began to form, and he almost chuckled.
Apparently, there was still a rebellious spirit inside of him, waiting on the sidelines, flexing its muscles and ready to jump into the fray, just to set off Miranda’s old man.
“You know,” Miranda said, “if you’re actually serious, that idea just might work. How do you see this all playing out?”
Other than pissing off her dad? Matt really hadn’t thought it through. So he asked, “What’s the worst thing that could happen?”
“Well, at first, my father would probably want to punch your lights out.”
From what Matt had heard, Carlos Contreras wasn’t a man most people wanted to cross. But he’d been in his forties when Miranda was born, so he must be pushing seventy now. And since he’d quit working in the fields years ago, he’d probably gotten soft and would think twice about raising his fists.
“Things won’t get physical,” Matt said. “That is, unless your dad gets violent. But either way, I’m not afraid of him. So what else could happen?”
“I suppose Gavin could ask for a DNA test.”
“He might. But then he’d probably rather not have to pay you any child support.”
“You’re probably right.”
“And if he doesn’t ask for proof of paternity, you wouldn’t get the money.”
“I don’t need it.”
She hadn’t needed child support from Matt, either, which clamped a vise on his ego and tightened it. But he shook it off. There was no need to poke at the past.
“Just to make it clear,” he said, “I’d walk away before risking a loud or physical altercation with your father. And I suspect Gavin won’t ask for a DNA test. If he did, he’d have to deal with charges that he hit Emily. That might give him reason to reconsider.”
She cocked her head slightly and studied him carefully, most likely trying to read into his offer and his take on all of it. But damn, when she looked at him like that, feelings rose up in his chest. Soft and tender ones that made him want to pull her into his arms and promise her the moon, tell her he’d do anything to make her happy and to keep her and the children safe.
“Listen,” he said, tamping down the rising emotion that wouldn’t do either one of them any good, “I just threw that idea out there to make sure you and the kids never have to deal with Gavin again.”
“You want to protect the baby, too?” she asked, her voice soft, tender.
“Of course. It’s not his fault that he has a crappy biological dad.” Nor had it been Matt’s fault that he’d been cursed with a lousy one, either.
“But what about the baby’s birth date?” she asked. “I was engaged to Gavin until February, so he’s going to know that he’s the father.”
“You can tell Gavin and other people that the baby came early. Or if it arrives weighing a whopping nine or ten pounds, we can say that you and I crossed paths at the end of last year. The old feelings we had for each other were hard to ignore, and we couldn’t help ourselves. It just happened.”
Miranda turned to face him, and as her gaze targeted his, a rush of desire swept over him. The explanation he’d just given her took on a life of its own, and he could see how a heated moment might occur when two old lovers met.
She didn’t say anything, but she didn’t have to. The emotion welling in her eyes told him all he needed to hear, all he needed to know.
Talk about old memories, sudden realizations and a burst of heat. He cupped her face, and her lips parted. As his fingers slipped along her jaw and around to the back of her neck, her glossy locks cascaded over his hand. Then he drew her mouth to his.
He hadn’t planned to kiss her. If he had, he would’ve started out softly, tenderly, making the moment last. But the second their lips touched, his brain checked out completely and thoughts like slow and easy went right out the window.
Apparently, Miranda didn’t mind things taking off like a blast from the past. She leaned into him, her hands re-exploring his body. Her lips parted, allowing his tongue to sweep into her mouth to mate with hers, dipping and twisting and tasting until he thought he’d explode.
But kissing Miranda senseless was one thing.
Taking her to bed was anot
her.
Mustering every bit of strength and self-control he had, Matt ended the earthshaking kiss, but he didn’t pull away. He continued to hold her close, savoring the chance to have her in his arms again, the faint scent of her floral shampoo, the warmth of her breath against his skin.
“See what I mean?” He rested his forehead against hers, and a slow smile curved his mouth. “Things like this happen when old lovers run into each other.”
She didn’t agree, but she didn’t let go of him, either.
“Do you see how things could easily get out of control?”
At that, she drew back, and her passion-glazed eyes met his. “We shouldn’t let that happen.”
“We shouldn’t?”
Her lips parted, as if she had a ready answer, but she didn’t say another word.
Hell, she probably didn’t dare to, because there was no way she’d convince him that a few bedroom thoughts hadn’t crossed her mind as well. And there lay the problem.
Things were heading in a sexual direction, and as much as he’d taken the lead and enjoyed what they’d just done, he wasn’t sure whether he should thank his lucky stars for that amazing kiss or run for the hills while he still had the chance.
* * *
The next day, after they’d eaten turkey sandwiches and apple slices for lunch, Matt continued to hang out at the kitchen table, hoping to find time to talk to Miranda alone. He had an idea he wanted to share with her, and this one wasn’t as wild and crazy as the one he’d suggested last night.
Since she’d just asked Emily to help her clear the table, the chat he had planned to have with her would have to wait.
George, who’d left the table earlier, returned to the kitchen with his hair damp and combed and wearing a different shirt than the one he’d had on before.
“Miranda,” he said, “I’ve got a few errands to run in town. Would it be okay if I took the little munchkin with me?”
Emily cocked her head, furrowed her brow and looked at Matt. “What’s a munchkin?”
“The munchkins are characters in The Wizard of Oz,” he said. “Have you seen the movie?”
She shook her head no.
“That’s too bad,” he said, “It’s a classic. I guess we’ll have to schedule a movie night.”
“That’s a good idea,” Miranda added. “We can make popcorn and root beer floats.”
“That sounds fun.” Emily leaned toward Matt, cupped a hand at the side of her mouth and lowered her voice. “But why did he call me that?”
“It’s not always easy to know what your uncle is thinking.” Matt winked at George.
“I like to keep some things to myself, but I’ll tell you what I’ve got on my mind today.” George lobbed a smile at Emily. “A big bowl of frozen yogurt. And maybe even a visit to the feed store to check out what kind of critters they’ve got on special today. If your mom says it’s okay, I’d be happy to take you with me.”
Emily clapped her hands and turned to Miranda. “Can I, Mommy? Please.”
“Yes,” Miranda said. “But don’t bring home any animals. You have more than enough pets already.”
George chuckled on the way out, while Emily trotted along behind him.
After the door closed, Matt studied Miranda, who’d turned back around to wipe down the kitchen counter. She wore a yellow sundress today, reminding him of the roses he’d once given her back in the day.
But it was the future he wanted to broach. So he opened by saying, “I’ve been thinking about something.”
She turned around, her brow raised in apprehension. “About what?”
“About job opportunities. If your dad won’t let you work remotely, I have an idea that might interest you.”
The hesitation in her expression lightened. “What is it?”
“Have you heard of Kidville?”
“Yes, it’s a local group home for abused and neglected kids. The Rocking Chair Rodeo is going to give it some of their proceeds.”
“That’s right. Jim Hoffman, one of the directors, is looking for someone, preferably a CPA, to handle the books. His wife, Donna, was doing it, but they’re expanding Kidville, and she doesn’t have the time. I’m not sure what they can afford to pay—or even if you’d be interested. But they’re local.”
“Thanks. If I end up needing to find another position, I’ll definitely give them a call.” She leaned against the kitchen counter. “I also had an idea of my own.”
“Oh, yeah?” Matt asked. “What’s that?”
“I have some money set aside for investments, and I thought about buying that pharmacy in town. I think the old-style soda fountain could really be a moneymaker—if run properly. And if it also sold gifts and trinkets that would appeal to the tourists... Well, I think sales would increase.”
“I like that idea.” He also liked knowing that she was seriously planning to relocate to Brighton Valley. If she and Emily lived closer to the ranch, he’d be able to see them—and the baby, too—more often. Or at least every time he came home.
More importantly, though, she’d finally be pulling away from her father, which she’d needed to do for a long time.
“I’ll have to talk it over with my dad first,” she said. “A lot depends on whether I can work remotely for Contreras Farms. Either way, I’m moving to Brighton Valley.”
“It’ll be nice to have you living in town,” he said.
She folded her arms across her chest, resting them on the top of her baby bump, and studied him for a couple of beats. “Okay, this is crazy.”
“What is?”
“We’ve either ignored those two kisses or skated over them long enough.”
She was right, although he’d still rather avoid having the conversation. He slowly got to his feet. He’d forgotten to wear the brace today, and that blasted tendon in his knee was already complaining. Maybe he ought to walk it off. Or else go back to his room and put the brace back on.
“Last night you implied that you were only kissing me to make a point,” she said. “But I think there was a lot more to it than that.”
As the accusation sunk in, so did the truth of it.
“You’re right,” he said.
“So what should we do about it?”
He shrugged. “Take it day by day, I guess.”
“That makes sense.”
“I won’t deny that the chemistry is still there,” he admitted. “But we probably shouldn’t rush into anything sexual, even though that’s a tempting idea.”
“I agree.”
“But that doesn’t mean we can’t do family stuff. I can always use more practice.”
She smiled and leaned against the kitchen counter. “That day at the fair was awesome.”
“And now we have a movie night to look forward to.” Matt took a few steps, trying to shake the ache he’d gotten from sitting so long.
“I have a question for you,” Miranda said.
“What’s that?”
She placed a gentle, protective hand on her growing waistline, took a deep breath, bit down on her lower lip and lowered her gaze to the floor. After a couple of beats, she looked up again and blew out a sigh. “How will the baby fit into your idea of a family?”
Talk about cutting to the chase. But he really couldn’t blame a mother for looking out for her child. In truth, she ought to be more concerned about how her father was going to fit into Matt’s idea of a family.
“I don’t see a problem.” He crossed the kitchen, easing closer to Miranda, close enough to touch. He raised the palm of his hand toward her baby bump and asked, “Do you mind?”
She smiled, removed her hand and let her arm drop to her side. “No, not at all.”
Matt had stroked the bellies of pregnant mares and heifers, but never an expectant mother. And as he felt a little bump move to the sid
e of the womb—a foot, maybe?—his breath caught and his eyes opened in awe. “Wow. That’s so cool.”
And a miracle in the making.
He caught her gaze and smiled. “As far as I’m concerned, that little guy is my daughter’s baby brother. And he’ll always be a part of you. So I’ll try my best to treat him as if he were my biological son.”
She pressed her fingers against her lips, holding back either a sob or a response. Still, tears filled her eyes. “I’d hoped you would say that. But I was afraid that you might...”
“That I might not treat him fairly?” Matt reached out and, using his thumb, brushed a tear from her cheek. “I’ll be damned if I’ll ever show any favoritism to Emily over the baby. Or vice versa. And I’ll do whatever it takes to make sure neither of them ever feels neglected or left out, the way I did when I was growing up.”
“Does that mean you see a future for us? I mean as a family?”
“I guess that’s what I’m saying.”
The tears in Miranda’s pretty caramel-colored eyes overflowed and spilled down her cheeks. This time, they flowed faster than he could wipe them away.
Matt had never felt comfortable around crying women, but this was different. Miranda was different.
“Don’t worry,” she said, sniffling. “I’m not sad or upset. These are happy tears.”
He wrapped her in a warm embrace and drew her close. Happy or sad, he didn’t like seeing her cry, so he stroked her back, offering whatever comfort he could. He wasn’t sure how long they stood like that. A couple of minutes, maybe. He would have remained there for as long as she needed him to, but she was the first to pull away.
She looked up at him with a smile, and as their gazes met and locked in place, something passed between them, bonding them in an unexpected way.
He couldn’t move, couldn’t look away, couldn’t think—until she ran the tip of her tongue along her lips, setting off a flurry of pheromones and hormones he hadn’t experienced in a long, long time.
In spite of his resolve to take things one day at a time, his common sense and resolve dissipated in a rush of desire. And all he knew was that he didn’t just want to kiss her again. He needed to.