“Kevin?”
“Wow.”
Jordan and Cole sat at the table in the back of the Texas-Pub kitchen and blinked at him. Mouths open. Jaws dropped. Gapping.
He laughed. “Ah, yeah. Is there a problem?”
“No.” Jordan smiled while her husband shook his head and grinned.
“Not at all, buddy,” Cole assured. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but…that’s a good look for you.”
Kevin reeled back slightly, trying to discern if his friend was serious or blowing smoke up his ass. Caught off guard, he’d slipped up a little. Allowed feelings to show. His friend’s innocent remark brought buried secret hurts to the surface. Hurts no one knew except his sister and cousin. Even after all these years, the pain was sharp enough to steel his breath at times. But he was the master of masking pain behind humor.
“What’s a good look? Mermaids? I don’t think the coat comes in my size, buddy.”
“Not the coat, you as-s-goof.” His boss quickly back pedaled, gaze darting to Amelia then back. “I’m serious. But you know that. You’re trying to shift the focus.”
Bossman had some killer mind reading skills.
“Jordan,” Amelia squealed, opening and closing her fists as she reached for the rising deputy, and got his ass off the hook from having to address his buddy’s comment further.
“Hey there, cutie pie.” Jordan took the squirming bundle from him and he promptly removed her mermaid encrusted coat.
Hooking the jacket and the diaper bag on the back of a chair, Kevin flexed his arm and sat down. “I hope the kitchen hasn’t closed yet. I’m starved.”
“Nope. Still a few minutes left,” Jordan informed. “What do you want? I’ll go tell Kerri. She’s out in the dining room turning the last of the steaks.”
“Kerri,” Amelia chanted while she clapped.
He smiled and leaned back in his chair. “One of those steaks would be great.”
“You got it, cowboy.” She hugged the little girl closer. “Let’s go get Kerri.”
Kevin was still smiling as he watched the deputy carry the little angel through the busy kitchen.
“So…” Cole’s voice brought his gaze back to his boss. “How was the seminar?”
“Good,” he replied, knowing full well his friend dropped one subject and was working his way to what he really wanted to know—how the hell he’d ended up with Amelia, and with his gonads attached since he was still in his suit. Everyone knew Shayla had a strong…negative reaction to suits.
He cocked his head and shrugged. “The seminar went well. We’re definitely on the right track with our latest graphics card development, and our film editing software is going to kick ass, too. No one has one even close to production.”
Kevin was proud of how the software was progressing. He’d put in a ton of research and interviews with test subjects to discover exactly what the industry was looking for before he even began to write his code. Cole had done the financials on the project, allowing him to take lead on programming.
The film editing software was his baby.
Not that he didn’t feel the same about all his programs, but there was something special about this one. He was close. Very close to figuring out a way to combine the editing software with their new graphics card to produce what he knew would be a 3-D rendering so picture perfect, the industry would pay top dollar for, consumers would pay top dollar for, and most important, many hospitals would benefit from the program. Possibly making certain undetectable cancers, blood clots and blockages visible before it was too late.
Like it had been for his mom…
“We’re back and we brought the cook,” Jordan said, hefting a high chair while Kerri followed with a smiling Amelia in her arms.
Kevin rose to his feet to help settle the little girl into the chair Jordan placed at the head of the table. Ignoring the others, he bent to look the cutie pie in the eyes. “Who did you find?”
Amelia immediately turned and pointed to the cook. “Kerri.”
“Yes she did.” The grinning woman ruffled Amelia’s hair, then glanced at him. “You want the usual?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Okay, one medium steak with all the fixin’s coming right up.” Kerri nodded, then turned and moved about her kitchen, preparing his dish with practiced ease.
It was nice to see his sweet friend happy and relaxed. She’d really come a long way since last winter. Retaking his seat, he acknowledged he had to give McMoose some credit. The big lug was certainly treating his woman right, and it showed.
“Okay, so, what’d I miss?” Jordan asked, sitting down, gaze bouncing from him to her husband and back again.
“Not much.” He shrugged. “Just talking shop.”
She turned to Cole and narrowed her gaze. “You didn’t ask him how he ended up down here with Amelia…without her mother?”
His bossman played it cool. Drank his beer and shrugged. “I knew better than to ask without you present. No sense in repeating answers. Isn’t that right, buddy?”
Maybe if he ignored them, they’d go away, and take their questions with them. Fishing in the diaper bag, he pulled out a book and handed it to the fussing toddler. “There you go, pumpkin.”
Kerri appeared with his salad and glass of water, and after she left, he glanced up to find two sets of brown eyes zeroed in on him. He knew how to play it cool, too. He was the king of cool. Mr. and Mrs. Nosey McCall were going to have to wait. He was hungry.
“Well?” Jordan raised a brow at him.
He raised one back. “Well, what?”
This brought a smile to her lips. “Well, how about you explain to us exactly where Shayla is?”
“Oh, that.” He waved a hand at her and went back to stabbing lettuce with his fork. “She’s in bed, where I left her.”
Cole began to choke on his beer while his wife stared at Kevin, mouth open, eyes wide. Victory was sweet. He managed to shock them both speechless with one sentence.
A twofer.
Before the couple recovered enough to continue questioning, Kerri dropped off his steak and potatoes, and set a bowl of cereal in front of a smiling Amelia. “Here you go, sweetie,” she said, handing the little girl a small spoon.
“She’s a southpaw,” he exclaimed, watching the little girl eat cereal with the spoon in her left hand. “Good girl.” He smiled, holding up his fork in his left hand. “We’re the only ones in our right minds, pumpkin.”
“Oh, man, that one’s getting old, Kev,” Cole said with a shake of his head, while his wife pulled Kevin’s plateful of steak away.
“Hey, that one’s mine, darlin’. If you want one, I’m sure you’re sister will be happy to get you your own.”
“I don’t want any steak, darlin’. I want answers.”
“You’re seriously holding my steak hostage?”
“Nope,” she replied. “Using it as leverage, so start talking.”
“Yes, Deputy McCall.” He blinked rapidly at her.
She smiled and shook her head. “Not going to work on me, dreamboat. Save your energy for your answers.”
“I don’t have any energy. Someone took my steak away.”
“So, start talking,” the deputy repeated.
“I am. These are words coming out of my mouth.”
“Okay,” Cole said, holding up his hand. “You are both too stubborn, so this could go on all night. For the sake of sanity and sleep, just tell us why you have Amelia?”
“Oh, is that what you wanted to know?” He stared at Jordan and watched her nod as she pushed his plate back to him. “You should’ve just asked.”
She balled up a napkin and lobbed it. “Come on, already.”
He laughed. “All right. Jeez, you’re so impatient.” He stared at Amelia while pointing to Jordan. “Don’t be like that when you grow up, pumpkin—ouch,” he exclaimed when the deputy grabbed his finger and twisted. “Okay, fine. I stopped in to see Shayla because Mrs. Avery wants us to represent h
er charity in the Spring Dance-a-Thon.”
“Why with Shayla?” Cole shook his head. “Did someone tell her about your New Year’s Eve dance off?”
So—his gaze bounced from bossman to bossman’s wife—apparently they hadn’t seen the video. Good. Last thing he needed was the McCall brothers to get wind of that footage. Images of him and Shayla would start to pop up everywhere. At work. In the car. In the barn. He wasn’t stupid. No way would he tell them. He shrugged. “I guess.”
“Bet that went over well.” Cole snickered.
“I haven’t told her yet. She answered the door looking like death, all pale and shivering. Foolish woman is throwing up, running a fever and trying to watch this energetic little pumpkin.” He pointed to the toddler preoccupied with her cereal. “So, I sent her to bed and brought Amelia down here because I hadn’t eaten since lunch.” He drew in a breath. “That about covers it.”
“You do know if she wakes up and Amelia isn’t there, she’s going to freak,” Cole pointed out.
“True.” His wife nodded. “So hurry. Eat up.”
“Really? You’re going to be like that?” He stared at the smiling deputy.
“Seriously, though. You look beat, Kevin,” Jordan said. “My shift is over at midnight. I’d be happy to relieve you so you can go home.”
The woman was giving him an out. Giving him the opportunity to go home and sleep in his own bed, not an uncomfortable couch.
Take it, his mind screamed.
His gaze fell onto the little girl humming while she ate, and his thoughts turned to her momma.
Don’t mess with Shayla, Kade had said. But he’d promised the woman he’d look after Amelia. And that was what he was going to do. Dammit. He didn’t often make promises, but when he did, he kept them.
“Thanks, darlin’, but that won’t be necessary,” he replied with a wink. “I got this. I still have to talk to her about the dance thing, anyway.”
And hope he made it out of her apartment with both fellas still attached.
Chapter Six
Opening her eyes, Shayla sat up in bed with a start. Something hit her lap. She glanced down. A dried washcloth.
Kevin.
It wasn’t a dream. Shoot.
Amelia…
Scrambling out of the bed, she fought off a dizzy spell and rushed through the apartment. What the hell had she been thinking to leave her daughter with that Casanova cowboy? Cripes. Hadn’t she learned her lesson? You can’t trust them to be responsible. That’s what had drawn her to Amelia’s dad.
A gorgeous, sweet-talking cowboy, Brandon had been looking for a good time, and she had looked right back. In a bout of weakness, after several weeks of running and relocating, Shayla had thrown caution to the wind and gave herself permission to enjoy the man’s company for one night. To feel wanted, needed, desired, if only for a few hours. They’d had a hell of a time and both walked away happy, but a few weeks later, when she confronted the cowboy with the good news, he said he wasn’t daddy material, shoved money in her hand and told her to take care of it.
After punching him in the jaw, twice, she tossed the money in his bloody face and walked out. To this day, her blood pressure still rose when she thought about it.
Yeah, sweet-talking, good-looking cowboys were nice from afar, but ugly up close. She knew this. Had gone through some rough times because of this, and yet, once again, in a moment of weakness, she’d trusted another Casanova. But this time, it was much worse. It was with her daughter.
Shayla’s heart was in her throat as she rushed into the living room and stopped dead. All evidence of chaos and disorder from her daughter’s free rein while she’d laid on the couch yesterday was completely gone. Erased. Deleted. The place was spotless. But that wasn’t what tripped her heart and squeezed her chest so tight she had to suck in a breath.
Fingers pressed to her mouth, she fought to keep her reaction inside. God, they were so sweet. Leaning against the wall, she stared at the cowboy slumbering on her couch in an unbuttoned blue flannel shirt, well-worn jeans with his bare feet sticking over one end, while Amelia slept on his bare chest.
He’d changed out of his suit since last night. Probably Amelia’s doing. Her lips twitched. They looked so cute. So relaxed. So…perfect.
Careful not to wake the pair, she reached for her phone on an end table, and without giving it much thought, snapped their picture should she need to remind herself that the Casanova had actually done something nice.
Okay, he’d done more than one nice thing. She inhaled and let it out slow. When Shayla had answered Kevin’s knocking last night, she’d expected him to run away and wouldn’t have blamed him. She’d looked like she’d felt. Horrible. But Kevin had come in, then held her hair while she threw up. Who does that? No guy she’d ever known. Not even Bobby. But the fun-loving cowboy had, and then he went on to take care of her, made her get in bed, brought her crushed ice and a cool washcloth.
Her heart softened toward the cowboy without her permission. Damn. She did not want to like him. Lusting him was fine. It made sense. She was a healthy female. He was a healthy man. Her gaze ran down the length of him then slowly scoured every inch of his bared torso. A very healthy man. The cowboy had more ridges than she’d expected. And the sprinkling of dark hair across his chest had been a surprise, too. A nice one. She ventured closer for a better look because Amelia’s body was blocking the side view.
Ah, hell. He had a happy trail.
Her knees started to buckle. Blaming it on her weakened state, she bent to steady herself on the coffee table, then closed her eyes and drew in a breath. Nope. Didn’t help. She drew in a few more. Idiot. Wasn’t like she hadn’t seen a handsome man naked before, and this one was far from naked. She was acting like a twit.
“What are you doing out of bed?”
Heaven help her, his low, sleep-coated voice was so damn sexy all the strength returning to her legs disappeared again.
“Whoa. I got you,” he said, suddenly at her side, pulling her close while Amelia remained sleeping in his arms.
How in the world did he manage to stand without waking her daughter? Cripes. She could tip-toe on cotton balls and the little stinker would stir.
“Come on, back to bed with you,” he whispered, guiding goose bumps down her body, then her goose-bump-ridden body to her room. “It’s barely six am. You need more sleep.”
The protest ready on her lips died an instant death when, instead of tucking her in bed and placing Amelia in her crib, the sleepy cowboy laid down next her, and drew her close. Well, hell. Now she had a problem. A big one. With herself. He should go home and take his rock hard, sexy body with him. This was bad. She should definitely protest. Her mind certainly did.
She shut her mind off.
He was warm and hard…and he was wearing flannel. Damn, she loved a cowboy in flannel. His body felt so…welcoming. Shayla burrowed into him, closed her eyes, and sighed when his arm tightened around her. She was tired, he was toasty and comfortable. End of story.
Opening her eyes in what seemed like minutes, Shayla sat up in bed with a start. Alone.
Kevin.
Was it a dream?
She glanced next to her. No. The pillow where he’d laid his head was still indented. It wasn’t a dream.
Amelia…
Her gaze shot to the crib. Empty.
Scrambling out of the bed, she fought off another dizzy spell and rushed through the apartment. Now where had the cowboy gone? Jesus, he didn’t leave the apartment with her daughter, did he? What the hell had she been thinking to leave Amelia with that Casanova cowboy? Cripes. Hadn’t she learned her lesson? You can’t trust—
She froze in the doorway at the sight of the cowboy sitting on the floor with her daughter, putting a puzzle together. He glanced up and smiled, showing off dimples dusted with sexy-as-sin scruff. Her pulse did a strange hiccup thing while her heart fluttered out of control in her chest.
“Mommy!” Amelia pushed to her feet t
hen ran to her, arms out.
Shayla scooped up her baby girl and held tight. “Hi, sweetheart. Whatcha doing?”
Her daughter twisted in her arms then pointed to the rising cowboy. “Puz. Kebie.”
Kebie? A smile tugged her lips hard. “A puzzle with Kebie. Sounds like fun.”
“Fun,” Amelia repeated with a smile of her own and pushed to get down.
The rambunctious bundle never could stand still for long. Shayla set her daughter on her feet then straightened, still smiling when she met the cowboy’s friendly gaze.
“Good morning, or should I say afternoon?”
She glanced into the kitchen at the clock on the microwave. One thirteen. Damn. It was early afternoon. Her attention returned to the cowboy. “I’m sorry, Kevin. Why didn’t you wake me? You don’t need to be wasting your time here.”
“No worries, darlin’. Amelia and I have had a great time,” he stated.
She tried, really hard, to keep her gaze on his face and not the wide expanse of chest and abs and happy trail gapping at her through his opened shirt.
Why didn’t he button the damn thing up?
“Well, thank you.” Her voice came out a little hoarse. Dammit. She cleared her throat, proud she had at least kept her gaze level. “I feel much better. All that sleep has helped.”
“Good, I’m glad.”
He stared at her for a beat, then two and appeared as if he wanted to say something. But keeping her gaze north and her legs steady was eating up all her energy. She had none to spare in the thought department.
“Come on, you need to sit,” he said, leading her to a stool at the island. “You’re still warm. Do you think you can keep some medicine down now?”
She nodded. “The nausea has passed, but I still have that da-rn headache.”
“Where do you keep the Tylenol?”
“In the medicine cabinet in my bathroom,” she replied, and before she had the chance to tell him she’d get it, he was halfway down the hall, with Amelia following him chanting, “Kebie.”
Kebie. A smile returned to her lips. She was not ever going to get that out of her head now.
Her Forever Cowboy (Harland County Series Book 4) Page 10