After they’d eaten, they jumped into his pickup and raced up the highway to Fort Worth.
Over the loud squeal of AC/DC paving their highway to hell, she said, “You know we should probably buy a truck for the ranch.”
“You don’t like my trusty old Ford?”
“You don’t like my Lexus.”
“Oh, sure, now that’s the prissy-assed vehicle of choice.”
She glared at him, and he grinned.
“Hank gave me my dream car after I took over his ranch. Sometimes I miss it.”
“Which was?”
She smiled, remembering. “A Jaguar. Bright red convertible with black leather interior, fully loaded.” She sighed. “I loved that car.”
His shock vibrated the truck. “You’re kidding.”
“Nope. I traded it in.”
“You traded a Jag in for a Lexus?” His incredulous expression would have been funny if they weren’t in the middle of late morning rush hour traffic. A semi-truck cut across two lanes of highway directly in front of them.
“Dylan!”
He easily avoided a disaster by plying the breaks. Once he stopped consigning the driver to hell, calling in to question his manhood, along with a few things about his mother, he winced as if in pain. “Why would you trade a fine piece of automotive mastery like a Jaguar in for a Lexus?”
The frantic beat of her heart slowed as she held a hand over her breast. “I wanted something more practical to move to Texas with. Hence, the Lexus.”
As if bewildered by the circumstances, he shook his head. So, the rough and tough cowboy had a soft spot for fast, little sports cars.
After a time, he slid a mischievous look her way. “Maybe it’s a good thing you got rid of the Jag. I can imagine how sexy you’d look in one. It drove me crazy resisting you in those little robes you wear. Combined with a fast car...” He shook his head and groaned.
“I really tormented you by answering my door in a robe?”
“Hell, yeah.” He tossed her another glance. “Thank God you’d stomp off to your room to shower and dress, because I needed the time to calm my raging hard-ons.”
She laughed and admitted, “I never realized you were so attracted to me. Until the kiss in the bathroom. I would lay awake at night wondering what you were like in the sack.”
“Well?”
She tried to pretend indifference by shrugging, but she couldn’t stop the sly smile. “I wasn’t disappointed.”
He fidgeted in the seat and took a deep breath. “That’s something, I guess. I think it’s time to change the subject. My jeans are getting mighty uncomfortable.”
She laughed again and went back to the original topic of discussion. “The ranch probably should have a company pickup.”
“Probably. Although I don’t mind driving my truck.” He eyed the lane-hopping minivan in front of them. “The Ford isn’t new, but it’s reliable. We can take a look into getting something later.”
What would he do if she surprised him on his next birthday with a brand new, shiny pickup truck? It wasn’t a Jag, but that could come later, maybe their first anniversary.
First anniversary?
Boy, wasn’t that putting the cart before the horse? They probably wouldn’t last the day. There was still a gulf between them. Did he believe she’d slept with Leon? Did he still love Brenda? The image of Brenda and her baby popped in her mind and a terrible suspicion bored into her heart.
She looked at his profile. He was so handsome, so strong and honorable. Yet, something vulnerable hid below the tough-guy skin. “When are you going to tell your parents and Tracy about the baby?”
He didn’t look at her. “Tracy will find out soon enough. As for my parents, I think we should wait a little. Just to let us get used to the idea. Maybe, tell them after you see the doctor.”
Sure, there was no use getting their hopes up about a new baby if something was wrong with it and she had a problem.
Or Dylan decided he didn’t want to stick around, after all.
“Charli, it has nothing to do with not wanting the baby,” he said when she didn’t speak. “A lot of people wait until the third month to tell folks. We should have some time to come to terms with what’s happening.”
She nodded and looked out the window. “You still think the baby might not be yours.”
When silence met her statement, she looked his way. His jaw flexed, and he didn’t look at her. “The thought has crossed my mind.”
“Dylan.” She waited for his gaze to meet hers, if for only a second. “I swear I never slept with Leon. Before you, I haven’t had sex since I was eighteen.” She closed her eyes and swallowed, knowing she had to tell him something. But she couldn’t tell the truth, at least not all of it. “After I ran away, I met a man in Vegas. We–we got married.”
He looked at her again with wide eyes. “He’s the reason you don’t want to get married again.”
“Yes.”
“Did you love him?”
Averting her eyes to her hands in her lap, she shrugged. “I thought I did. He took me off the streets, gave me a place to live.”
“And beat you.”
She nodded and sucked in her bottom lip. “Yeah. Our marriage was annulled after my grandfather found me in Las Vegas.”
It wasn’t the total truth, but it was close enough, and all she intended to divulge. She and Ricardo Rodriguez hadn’t been legally married, since they never applied for a license. The facade of marriage had been his way of controlling her, and she’d been too young and naive to realize it.
She looked at him. His hands gripped the steering wheel until his knuckles whitened.
“I would never hurt you, Charli.” His voice came from a place so deep, it rumbled.
“I know.”
He met her gaze with eyes so fierce they frightened her.
She assured him, “I haven’t seen him since I left Vegas.” She’d already said enough about her life with Ricardo. “I suppose waiting to announce the baby will be okay. That way the Grapevine won’t completely exhaust the juicy grapes all at once.”
He deftly switched lanes to merge onto the correct ramp off the Fort Worth beltway.
“No, we definitely want to make sure there’re enough ‘juicy grapes’ on Winnie Cartwright’s grapevine.” The sarcasm fell as flat as his forced smile did.
For the rest of the trip, an uneasy silence descended upon them. By the time they arrived at the auction, she was determined to not let the shadows in their relationship or of her past ruin the day. They pulled into the parking lot crowded with livestock trucks, pickups, and SUVs–many of them with trailers.
She turned to him and touched his arm as he killed the engine. “Dylan, I know it’s hard to trust me, but I’m not a woman to play games. To me Leon was never more than a friend. Yes, he wanted to be more, but he wasn’t. It’s you I want. It’s your baby I’m pregnant with.”
He skimmed his fingers over her cheek. “And I want you, Charli. I guess I–I can’t help but wonder why you chose me.”
“Don’t wonder.” They locked gazes, and her fingers closed over his, resting on her cheek. “C’mon. The auction’s about start, and I want that chilidog you promised me.”
They got out of the truck and headed toward the office to claim a bidding number.
A few moments later, they scanned the pens of cattle. When she found two pens of year-old Angus heifers offered by the same rancher, she said, “How about these? They look healthy and would be good for breeding.”
After coming up beside her at the metal railing, he leaned over his arms on the top and surveyed the heifers with a critical eye. He pushed his hat back and looked at her. “You know more about this stuff than I’ve ever given you credit for. It’s time I stop underestimating you.” She raised a brow, and he said, “These are good. So, you’re done playacting at ranching, huh?”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
He took her hand in the natural way of new lovers. T
he action about stopped her heart. “Now don’t get your tail feathers all in a ruffle, although you have very nice tail feathers.” He leaned back to glance meaningfully at her jeans-covered ass. She poked him in the chest, and he pushed her Stetson back over her head a little and met her gaze. “It means I’ve been waiting for you to decide to actually raise some cattle on the old place.”
He might not trust her, but he had faith in her. She often wondered what he truly thought of her, especially when he’d make the kind of smart-ass comments like the one from that morning about her going to a livestock auction. For a long time now, she’d figured he was waiting for her to break a nail and run away like some prissy bitch.
Whose fault was that?
She’d cleaned herself up over the years, given up massive amounts of makeup for a more natural look and traded trashy clothes for designer names. Although she still sometimes showed more skin than most people were comfortable with, no one ever questioned her wealth or her sense of high fashion.
But she was a rancher, not a runway model.
“You really believe in me?” Her voice dipped and nearly cracked.
He squeezed her hand. “Yes.”
She fought the sting behind her eyes, and the heat racing into her cheeks had nothing to do with the temperature of the late May day. She sniffed and turned away before she made a fool out of herself by crying.
They moved along the aisle to find seats in the auction arena. “I’ve been thinking of changing the name of the ranch.”
“I wondered when you’d get around to it. What are you thinking?”
She looked up at him and snorted. “I haven’t the foggiest, damned idea.”
He snickered and held out the cardboard placard with their number on it. “Do you want to do the honors?”
“Oh, I think you’ve got it covered. I’ll just sit here and keep you company.” She patted his thigh and stroked the area in a slow circular motion with her fingertips.
His eyes darkened. He leaned over and whispered in her ear, “Keep it up, and I’ll forget what I’m bidding on. You’ll end up with those alpacas we saw, instead of cattle.”
She inched her hand up a bit, leaned over, and purred in his ear, “I trust you to make the right decisions now. And later when I get you home alone, cowboy.”
She squeezed the flesh to the inside of his thigh bare inches from the bulge his hardening erection made.
“Now stop. They’re starting and people are staring.” He took hold of her hand and pinned it farther down on his lean leg, near his knee. In a voice that got progressively huskier as he spoke, he whispered in her ear exactly what he intended doing to her when they got home.
The day suddenly got a whole lot hotter, causing her to squirm on the metal bleacher. She didn’t care if he bought the sorry-looking alpacas, just as long as he hurried up.
By the end of the auction, she was the proud owner of a hundred head of Angus, fifty Herefords and two registered bulls–an Angus and a Hereford. The cattle would be delivered Wednesday. She groaned as she wrote a whopping check from the business account. He was right. If she was serious about raising cattle, she had to stop playacting.
“What do you think of Zeus and Jupiter?” she asked on the drive home.
He glanced at her. “Please tell me we’re having a conversation about astronomy or mythology, and you aren’t thinking up names for something.”
She smiled. “The bulls. I’d like to name them, just for fun. The Angus can be Zeus and the Hereford Jupiter.”
“Why not something like George or Bubba?”
“Those are so boring. Actually, the names are for the same god. Zeus is Greek and Jupiter is the Roman version, but either way, he was the father of most of the other gods, plus heroes like Hercules. Besides, it seems appropriate to name my bulls after a god who liked to transform into a bull to seduce human women.”
He looked at her with his mouth slightly ajar. “You’ve got to be kidding?”
“Nope. I personally don’t see the allure. But, hey, maybe ancient Greek and Roman women were a little desperate or something.”
“Or more likely were into bestiality.” He let loose with a belly chuckle that had her laughing with him. Once he was able to get a breath again, he said, “Okay, you can name the bulls after some horny Greek god, but for the love of God, promise me you won’t name our kid after some mythological person.”
His words stilled her heart, and they locked gazes for as long as possible considering the traffic. She swallowed the lump in her throat. He believed her baby was his.
“I promise, as long as you don’t insist on Bubba.” Her voice cracked despite her best efforts to keep it light.
“Hey,” he smiled and his voice was gruff, “Bubba is a noble name.”
She rolled her eyes at him and laughed, and the tension shattered.
It was almost six o’clock when Dylan drove over the bridge to the clearing in the trees. The sun shone directly over her house. The glow looked like a crown on an aging royal holding court with the various ranch buildings set off to the side and behind.
This was the home she hadn’t had in a long time.
His amused voice cut through her sentimental ponderings. “Get ready.”
“What?” she asked a little wobbly while he’d parked the truck beside a red Taurus.
He unbuckled his seatbelt and jerked his hat brim toward the porch. Tracy stood between the porch pillars with her arms crossed over her chest. Her right foot tapped an agitated tattoo at the top of the steps. Bobby, Dylan’s ten-year-old nephew, was at the edge of the lake, but as soon as he noticed them getting out of the truck, he raced up the yard, weaving around the garden beds.
“Hey, sprout,” Dylan called to his nephew and led the way through the open gate of the picket fence.
“Hi, Uncle Dylan!” Bobby tacked on a sing-songy, drawn-out warning, “You are in so much trouble.”
Tracy came off the porch as Dylan ruffled the boy’s dark hair affectionately. “Is that so?”
“Is that so?” Tracy parroted, all puffed up like a prizefighter despite her willowy figure. At six feet, she was as tall as her brother. She faced Dylan, and for a moment, Charli actually thought she was going to deck him. Then she caught the delighted twinkle in Tracy’s gray eyes. “Why is it I had to learn my big brother has moved in with his boss from Sally Miller?”
He leaned toward Charli. “Tom’s wife, another notorious town gossip. Thrives on juicy grapes.”
“Ah.” She smiled at Tracy. “I’m beginning to wonder who doesn’t.”
“So...” Tracy looked from her to Dylan. “Is it true?”
Taking her hand, Dylan passed his sister. Her mouth fell open and her eyes went wide. As they headed up the steps to the porch, Tracy squealed, “You are living together!”
Charli unlocked the front door. They entered the coolness of the large entry and headed down the hall.
He ushered his sister and nephew toward the kitchen. Tracy stopped in the arched doorway and gaped at the room, slowly taking it all in. “Wow! This is beautiful.”
“Mom, can I go back outside?” Bobby asked in that whiney way of little boys.
Tracy blinked and turned to her son. “Sure.”
Bobby instantly bolted to the front door.
Tracy called over her shoulder, “But stay away from the lake. There’re snakes in it.”
Her reply was the door closing with a bang.
Charli turned to Dylan. “See! You are the only one who seems to think those snakes are harmless.”
“They are.” He tossed his hat on a hook by the back door. He went to the sink, washed his hands, started a pot of coffee, then retrieved the baking pan with the steaks they’d planned to make for supper out of the fridge.
She motioned for Tracy to sit at the table. “Would you like to stay for supper? Dylan’s making steaks.”
“Okay.”
He grabbed another package from the freezer and tossed it into the microwave
to thaw.
While he put four potatoes into the oven to bake, she fetched mugs and the fixings for the coffee. When he finally came to the table and poured the dark brew, Tracy quivered like a kid at Christmas deprived of opening her gifts until everyone else woke up.
Dylan sat beside Charli and met her gaze briefly. She smiled in reply to his silent question. He looked across the table at his sister. “Yes, I moved in. But it only happened today.”
“What brought this on?”
She took a deep breath. “Dylan and I are gonna have a baby.”
Tracy stared at them for a moment as if she didn’t quite comprehend. When it sank in, she opened her mouth, quickly covered it with both hands, and let out a squeal louder than the one earlier. She leaped out of her chair and into his open arms and fiercely hugged him.
“I’m so happy for you.” Tracy hugged her. Tears glistened on her cheeks, and she fanned her flushed face with her hand. Dylan grabbed the Kleenex box from the shelf on the corner cabinet, and Tracy plucked several tissues from it to wipe her face. She sat down and noisily blew her nose. “I’m sorry... I’m just... Oh...” At last, she found enough composure to ask, “When are you due?”
She smiled and shrugged. “February, I guess. I just found out.”
* * * *
Dylan knew what Tracy’s next question would be probably before his sister did. Just as the microwave beeped to announce the steaks were finished defrosting, Tracy expectantly looked from Charli to him. “When’s the wedding?”
He let go of Charli’s hand and stood, wanting to put some distance between the women and himself at the moment. He took the steaks out of the microwave. “There isn’t going to be a wedding.”
He could feel Tracy’s eyes boring into his back. “What? Why not?”
“Because.” He faced the two women. “We decided not to get married. Marriage doesn’t make a family, Tracy. You of all people should know that, considering how bad yours turned out.”
If the jibe about her ill-fated train-wreck of a marriage bothered Tracy, she ignored it. She glanced at Charli and crossed the kitchen to stand across the island from him. “Dad and Mom won’t like you not getting married.”
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