Bridgett ached to ease his pain.
“You don’t think that Buck could be responsible for the new puppy in some way?”
“Actually, the thought crossed my mind. So I did some checking on my own and found out he died of a heart attack five years ago at the same ranch where he had always worked.”
Bridgett shared his sadness. For a moment, they fell silent. Finally, she asked, “And there’s no one else? No other ex-boyfriend of your mom’s who would have given you a puppy and a baby?”
“No. No one.”
She reached over and covered his hand with her own, both their hands resting on his muscular thigh. “It’s too bad you didn’t know about Frank sooner,” Bridgett observed eventually. She turned to look him in the eye. “It seems like that would have made your childhood so much better.”
“But I didn’t,” he confided quietly. “And we can’t go back, Bridgett, and redo the past, much as we might want to. We can only go forward.”
And, given the intent way he was suddenly looking at her, she realized on a quick inhalation of breath, going forward meant one thing.
She had hoped to wait until her situation was more settled before they did this again.
However, the way he had opened up his heart to her, the way he looked at her now, so full of yearning, changed all that. He was inviting her in, and the truth was, she wanted in. Already all of her senses were in overdrive and he hadn’t even kissed her yet.
He leaned in and her lips parted. He pressed a light kiss to one corner of her mouth, and then another to the other side. Trembling with pleasure, she wreathed her arms about his neck. Their breaths mingled. And then his mouth was moving over hers, creating frissions of delight. His hands were beneath her blouse, cupping the weight of her breasts, teasing the taut nipples with his thumbs. And still they kissed, tongues and lips tangling, the caresses hot and hard, slow and soft, again and again and again, until making out felt like the most intimate thing they could ever do.
Heavens, the man knew how to kiss! How to make her want him. Not just like this, but in every other way, too...
“Not here,” he whispered finally, lifting his head.
She was too far gone to stop. Too far gone to want to stop. “Yes, here,” she insisted, just as fiercely, shifting so they were both prone on the sofa.
Giving in to the passion flooding them both, he tugged off her jeans and panties. She divested him of his. And then his hands and mouth began a downward journey. She fisted her hands in his hair, afraid he would stop. He didn’t. Not until she was shuddering with sensation and crying out his name. And then he was moving again, swiftly now, finding the condom, rolling it on.
Feelings sweeping through her, she wrapped her arms and legs around him, urging him home. And when he entered her, thrusting into her, long and slow, taking her to a whole new level of need, he made her feel so utterly...taken. And that was what she wanted, too. So much.
She was his. He was hers.
And still they kissed as he brought them closer and closer, making her moan and cry out, until she lost track of where he ended and she began. All she knew was that everything around her was lost in the hot, intensely erotic pull of the two of them, the inevitable ascent to ecstasy and the slower, softer, oh so satisfying fall back.
* * *
AS THE AFTERSHOCKS FADED, Cullen went still, waiting to see what Bridgett would do. She didn’t pull away from him, the way she had the first time they’d made love. She didn’t snuggle closer, either. He wasn’t surprised about that. She was an elusive woman.
Still holding her in his arms, he pressed a kiss to her temple. “So,” he prodded finally, knowing their situation was complicated. But complicated was okay when it led to results like this. He just had to convince her of that. He shifted so he could see her face. “Was that a pity move, on your part?”
She lifted her head so he could gaze into her pretty green eyes. “You mean did I make love to you because I felt sorry for you?” Her voice was filled with surprise.
Not sure it mattered to him if she had—since it had brought them closer—he sifted his hand reassuringly through the silky mane of her hair. “Did you?” he asked curiously.
She shifted against him, and he felt himself grow hard again. Rolling onto her side, she spread her hands across his chest. “I definitely felt for you and what you’d been through.”
He knew that. He had noticed her compassion.
“I also felt closer to you, because you trust me enough to confide in me that way.”
He grinned. “So, is this the part where you tell me that now I’ve seen your pictures, you will show me yours?”
She regarded him with wide-eyed interest, both surprised and pleased. “You want to see my family albums? What ones I have, anyway?”
“Only fair.” He wanted to know what she had been like as a child, before he moved to Laramie, Texas. That was unusual, too. Generally, he liked to stay in the here and now. Not think about the past. Or the future. But with her, he wanted to know everything.
Smiling, Bridgett extricated herself. She reached for her clothes and shimmied into her bra and panties. “They’re in the storage locker with my stuff.”
He lay back, watching, while she put on her blouse and her jeans. Damn, she was beautiful. Kind. Smart, and every kind of wonderful, too.
“I know right where they are, so I can slip over to my rental unit and get them. We won’t have time to go through them right now, though. We’re already close to being late for dinner with Violet and Gavin.”
Reluctantly, he rose and began to dress. Doing what a guy always did when he was interested in a woman. Try to nail down their next time together, before the current interlude ended. “Later, then?” he made her promise.
Bridgett grinned, nodding. “It’s a date.”
Chapter Nine
It’s a date. Why had she said that? Bridgett chastised herself silently. She and Cullen were not dating. Sleeping together, yes, but dating? If she didn’t want him to think she was one of those women who would hook up with a guy once or twice and then be ready to move in with him permanently, she would have to be more careful.
He sent her a sideways glance. “Stop beating yourself up.”
“For what?”
“Showing me your feelings.”
Bridgett ducked her head and rummaged around for her boots. “I didn’t.”
“Yes, you did,” he said, giving her a frankly admiring glance. “And unless you want your brother and sister-in-law to see ’em, too, you better apply a little more lip gloss and run a brush through your hair.”
Bridgett rushed to her shoulder bag, to find a mirror. “I really look that ravished?”
He shrugged. “To me you do.”
Bridgett opened a small compact of blusher and groaned. She did look all...tousled. In fact, her skin seemed to be glowing from the inside out. Same as the rest of her. “I knew you were trouble the moment I met you,” she grumbled teasingly.
He extracted a comb from his wallet and tidied up, too. “Right back at you, kid.”
Short minutes later, they were on their way.
Gavin had just arrived home. As soon as greetings were given, Bridgett rushed over to see Robby, who was in his cozy little infant carrier, sleeping peacefully. “How has he been?”
Violet smiled. “He was a little dreamboat.”
“He is a very cute kid,” Gavin agreed, as they all sat down to dinner. “I can see why you’re so attached to him, Bridgett.”
Bridgett helped herself to some salad. “But you’re worried.”
“He’s not actually up for adoption. Is he?” Gavin paused and looked at Cullen. “Is he even going to be?”
Cullen held her brother’s level, assessing gaze with one of his own. “If you’re asking...he is not my baby.”
Biologi
cally, anyway, Bridgett thought. It seemed emotionally the two had already bonded.
“And yet you’ve stepped in,” Gavin said, his voice hard.
Cullen passed the breadbasket. “It’s the right thing to do. In fact—” he met her brother’s gaze equably “—I would help care for Robby and Riot even if they hadn’t been left with a note, charging me with the responsibility.”
Bridgett knew Cullen well enough now to realize how true that was. He might act all tough and gruff on the outside sometimes, especially around those who might be seeking to take advantage, but inside he was kind and big hearted. Tender and loving to a fault. The perfect father for Robby and Riot.
The perfect husband for her?
Now who was jumping the gun? she thought, hanging her head. For a moment, everyone ate their salad in awkward silence.
Finally, Violet looked at Cullen, one McCabe to another, interjecting kindly. “We went through something similar with our first child, Ava.”
Glad to have the focus off her and Cullen, Bridgett explained what had happened while Cullen was living out of state. “Gavin and Violet were named legal guardians of a premature infant whose mother died in childbirth. They hardly knew each other at the time.”
Violet took Gavin’s hand. The love between them was palpable. “It was while taking care of little Ava, seeing her through her medical crisis, that we fell in love.”
Gavin squeezed his doctor wife’s hand affectionately, then started on his lasagna. “Circumstances were a little different, though. Since from the very beginning you and I knew we could adopt Ava, if we chose.”
“If we passed social service’s home study,” Violet amended.
Happily, that wasn’t a problem here. “I’ve already passed mine,” Bridgett said. “Two years ago, when I was approved to foster-adopt.”
Violet looked at Cullen. “Is that something you’re interested in doing?” she asked.
Cullen continued devouring his pasta. “Never gave it any thought until now.”
Bridgett was sure that was true.
“What about marriage?” Gavin asked. “Are you interested in that?”
Bridgett winced. This was nothing new. She knew Gavin felt it was his duty as the male head of the family to protect all three of his sisters. But there was no way she was letting Gavin chase Cullen away, the way he had every man he thought might potentially hurt her. There was simply too much at stake. He needed to back off.
The two men continued staring each other down. “I might be inclined to get hitched, if the right woman came along,” Cullen shot back evenly.
Gavin stared back at him, waiting it seemed for a declaration that never came.
Which meant what? Bridgett wondered.
Cullen wasn’t really serious about her? Or he was, but—like most strong, silent men—didn’t feel the need to explain himself?
There was no clue from the impassive look on his handsome face.
Nothing that Gavin could jump on, either.
The rest of the meal was eaten in tense silence, and stilted small talk. Unable to stand the disquiet any longer, Bridgett thanked them both for a lovely meal, as did Cullen, and begged off, right after dessert.
* * *
“I AM SO SORRY,” Bridgett moaned as they drove away, short minutes later.
“Why?” Cullen asked, his muscular frame filling the interior of the pickup truck. That time of night, there wasn’t a lot of traffic, and he went through one green light, then another. “They love you. They want what is best for you. They just don’t think it is me.”
Bridgett straightened. “Pull over.”
His brow furrowed. “What?”
Bridgett pointed to an empty parking lot, next to an office building on the outskirts of town. “Pull over! I want you to look me in the eye when I say this.” She waited until he had complied before she continued. “My family doesn’t know what is best for me, Cullen. I get to decide that.”
He met her gaze wryly, his eyes dark and heated. “Really? And what have you decided?”
“That we do not have to decide anything right now,” she said firmly. She waved a hand. “Beyond, of course, figuring out how I am going to get my living conditions straightened out before the foster placement decision on Robby and Riot.”
His big body relaxed. He reached over to take her hand. “What can I do to help?”
“Take care of Robby and Riot while I finish my online mortgage application this evening?”
“I’m on it,” he assured her. “No problem.”
And it wasn’t.
Until just before midnight, seconds after her application had been emailed in. He was sitting on the sofa, his cheek pressed against the top of Robby’s head, Riot curled up at his feet. He had the pictures of his first dog spread across his lap.
She eased down next to them. Then turned so she could sit kitty-corner to him. “Any luck remembering?”
Frustration curved the corners of his lips. “No. I talk to so many groups of people. Potential buyers who come for a tour of the ranch. Cattlemen’s meetings around the state...”
“And don’t forget the career fair at the high school,” Bridgett interjected helpfully. “You and I were both present for that.”
Cullen’s brow furrowed. “Actually, I didn’t just visit Laramie County High School. I spoke at two in San Angelo last fall, as well. In fact, I’ve done them wherever I lived.”
A mixture of hope and dread sparked inside Bridgett. “You think that might have been where you discussed Riot?”
“Maybe. I mean the conversations with business people tend to stay on track. With high school kids, looking to choose their life’s work, the conversations can go all over the place. And I do mean all over the place!”
Bridgett grinned ruefully. “I know what you mean. I was once asked if the best way to marry a handsome doctor was to become a nurse or a physician. Which one did I think would give a girl a better chance?”
Cullen winced. “What’d you say?”
“That I wouldn’t know because I wanted to marry for love, not profession.”
Approval shone in his eyes. “Good call.”
“What about you?” Bridgett asked curiously, loving the intimacy that sprung up between them. “What was your weirdest question?”
“Boxers or briefs. Definitely the most uncomfortable.”
“What did you say?”
He made a comical face. “Next question!”
Bridgett laughed softly. “Can’t say I blame you.”
Robby sighed in his sleep. Cullen snuggled the infant closer and bussed the top of his little head.
They looked so sweet together, so right, it nearly broke Bridgett’s heart.
Oblivious to the tenderness welling up inside her, Cullen continued, “It’s par for the course—a lot of teenage girls show up to hear the cowboys speak. But they also want to know things like if it’s lonely on a ranch. Do we have to work all the time, or do we still have time for fun? Is it a good place to raise kids? Things like that.”
“So, maybe...that is where you talked about Riot.”
He nodded in agreement, still mulling over the possibilities. “But at which high school? And when?”
Bridgett had no idea.
She did know, however, that her life had just gotten more precarious than ever.
* * *
CULLEN CALLED DAN first thing the next morning to let him know what he and Bridgett were thinking.
“Well?” Bridgett asked anxiously when he hung up the phone. She stepped away from the breakfast she was cooking.
“Dan said he doesn’t think it was Laramie High, because he’s already talked to the principal and guidance counselors there, and they haven’t had any girls get pregnant. But he’ll call the two other high schools in San Angelo, where I spoke. See wh
at he can find out.”
She sauntered nearer, hands in her pockets. She had dried her hair after her shower that morning, leaving it long and loose and straight. But he liked it tousled and wavy, too. “How long does he think that will take?” she asked quietly.
He wrapped his arm about her shoulders, and she turned toward him, the warm abundance of her breasts brushing his chest. He pushed away the urge to explore her soft, womanly curves. “A couple of days, minimum. Everyone in the area is out for the week, on spring break, which includes the administrators.”
She bit her lip, sighed and rested her head against his shoulder. “So it will be next week before we hear anything.”
He pressed a kiss into her hair. “Most likely.”
“I guess that’s good news and bad news. Good, in that it gives us more time with Robby and Riot. Bad—” her eyes suddenly shimmered with unexpected tears “—in that if this lead does take us to Robby’s birth mother, it could also mean the situation is about to get a lot more complicated.” After giving the scrambled eggs another stir, she set down the spatula, looking all the more anxious. “Making my chances of foster-adopting Robby and Riot a lot more improbable.”
He paused, surprised she had voiced a negative thought out loud. Up to now, she had been resolute in her view that this would all work out in her favor. Guilt came at him, swift and hard. It was because of him, somehow, that she was going through this. If it didn’t work out, he would likely be to blame.
Watching her wipe her lashes with the pads of her index fingers, he stepped closer. “Are you going to be able to do this? Give the baby and puppy up if it comes to that?”
Embarrassed by the show of emotion, she turned away. “Are you?”
He caught her by the shoulders and spun her back to face him. “I’m serious, Bridgett.”
“So am I.” She stalked to the oven and removed a pan of fluffy, golden-brown biscuits. Then she piled freshly prepared sausage patties onto a serving platter. He helped her by doing the same with the scrambled eggs.
She set the dishes on the island, then went back to the cupboard to get out plates and utensils. “Do you honestly think that Robby would be better off with someone who would leave him in a cardboard box, with only a well-intentioned puppy to guard him, instead of with me?”
The Texas Cowboy's Baby Rescue Page 10