She introduced him to Sara, and Sara gave Marissa a knowing look.
Ty took Marissa’s elbow. His clasp was light, but the expression in his eyes wasn’t. “Can we talk a few minutes?” he asked. “I’m getting ready to leave.”
They stepped over to a corner of the room where the volunteers weren’t working, where the kids weren’t playing. He didn’t have to ask her the question that was obviously on his mind.
“I thought about everything you said,” she told him before he could speak.
He tipped his Stetson up with his forefinger and gave her a perusal that seemed to see deep inside of her. “And?” he prompted.
“You don’t know exactly what’s going to happen with the Cozy C. I don’t know if living with you will work out. But I would like to move out of my apartment into something new. I can come stay with you temporarily and we can see if the arrangement works. In the meantime, I’ll look for a new place in case I need it.”
“In case our arrangement doesn’t work,” he said with a frown.
“Or...in case your uncle decides to sell the Cozy C.”
“That’s not going to happen,” Ty growled.
But Marissa countered, “You could receive an offer neither of you could refuse.”
Ty had started to shake his head, but Marissa held up her hand. “This will give us time, Ty, to see if we can parent together. Is that okay with you?”
“Who knew you could be a negotiator,” he responded with a grimace. But then he looked toward Jordan and nodded. “We’ll make it work, and we’ll give Jordan a holiday that will give him a sense of family.”
Marissa knew a holiday could be emotion-packed, and not all of the emotions were pleasant ones. But Ty wanted to make good memories, and so did she.
Thanksgiving, here we come.
* * *
On Monday morning, Marissa felt a bit nervous as she approached Jase in his office. At his desk, in a high-backed burgundy leather swivel chair, he turned his attention from his computer monitor to her.
“I’d like to talk to you for a few minutes,” she said. “Do you have time?”
“Sure, I have time. Is there a problem with one of the clients...their orders?”
“No, nothing like that.”
He motioned to the chair in front of his desk. “Have a seat.”
She did and wiped her palms on her slacks. She wasn’t exactly sure how to go about this, but she figured it was best if she simply told Jase what had happened—on more than one front.
“Someone approached me about planning an event for him.”
Jase’s brows arched. “Who?”
“Scott Donaldson, the real estate developer. I wondered if you’d mind if I take on an outside job.”
“I’ve run into Scott now and then,” he said, studying her. After a silent lull, he went on, “Tell me, are you happy here at Raintree Winery?”
“Oh, yes, I am. But...I can use the extra money.”
Jase looked thoughtful for a moment. “I can offer you a raise.” He mentioned a figure. “I certainly want to keep you here. But I also don’t want to hold you back. Are you thinking about going out on your own with an event-planning business?”
“No, nothing like that. At least not now.”
“You’re a valuable employee, Marissa, and I don’t want to lose you. If you feel you need to take on extra work for whatever reason, I don’t object.”
“It won’t affect my work here. But something else might.”
Now Jase looked concerned.
“You’ve met Ty Conroy... He’s Jordan’s dad. He wants to try parenting...together...at the Cozy C.”
Jase’s brows creased. “I’m not going to interfere in your personal life, Marissa, but that’s a plunge into something serious.”
“Don’t I know it. But with the holidays and all, it might be a good thing for everyone. So I told Ty I’d move in temporarily. Can I have a day off this week—tomorrow or Wednesday?”
Jase thought about it. “You’re so efficient we’re caught up for Thanksgiving. You can take the week. Next week we’ll deal with the Christmas orders rush.”
“Are you sure?”
“I’m positive. Moving into the Cozy C with a baby is going to be an adjustment. You’ll need the time.”
“Thank you,” she said gratefully.
“No thanks necessary. You often put in extra hours for me and don’t add them to your time sheet. Don’t think I don’t notice.” He paused, then asked, “What if living at the ranch doesn’t work out?”
“I’ll look for another available apartment. If living at the ranch doesn’t work out, with a raise and an outside project or two, I can afford to live someplace better.”
Jase nodded. “So this isn’t an impulsive decision.”
“No, I don’t make those anymore.” She hadn’t made an impulsive decision since the night she’d slept with Ty Conroy. She knew better now. Consequences and a sense of responsibility had taught her that she needed to plan.
That’s exactly what she was doing.
* * *
Ty was ready for moving day on Tuesday. At least he thought he was until he’d showed up at Marissa’s apartment with his truck and laid eyes on her again. Seeing her in jeans and a T-shirt with her hair tied back in a ponytail, he was hard-pressed to keep his focus on getting her furniture into that truck.
He had to focus, however, when Jase Cramer pulled into the parking lot in front of the apartment.
Marissa told Ty, “He offered to help and I accepted.”
Ty knew Marissa had her support network and he couldn’t interfere in that. He didn’t want to interfere in that. He was just wondering how he fit in.
Marissa really didn’t have that much to move. Ty had emptied out the one bedroom used for storage at the ranch house. He’d wanted Marissa to be comfortable and feel at home, so her bedroom set would go in there. They’d put Jordan’s crib in one of the smaller bedrooms.
By afternoon, they were all moved in at the Cozy C. Extra pieces, like Marissa’s slip-covered couch, had been stowed in one of the outside storage sheds.
As Ty made sure the mattress was sitting on the bed correctly in Marissa’s bedroom, Jase appeared with a white milk glass hobnail lamp and set it on the nightstand. He studied Ty a moment, and then said, “Marissa’s a good friend.” He looked around the bedroom. “This bedroom suite is the one thing she inherited from her mother, and it means a lot to her.”
Ty hadn’t known that and he wished he had. But he and Marissa hadn’t had any long sit-down conversations since they’d spotted each other at the physical therapy center. Everything to date had been about Jordan. Ty figured Marissa was using that as a defensive maneuver. Maybe he was, too.
“I know Marissa has made a life for herself,” Ty said. “I want to do the same thing.”
“It’s a different life than you’ve known.” Jase plugged in the lamp and glanced over his shoulder at Ty.
“Yeah, it sure is. But I intend to make this vacation ranch venture a success. I’m also going to learn how to be a dad, a good one. And I know there are responsibilities that go with it.”
“And what about Marissa? How does she fit into your life? Just as the mother of your son?”
“I’m not sure that’s any of your business,” Ty said pointedly.
But Jase didn’t get ruffled. “You don’t know how she fits in, do you?” he asked.
“Everything’s a bit up in the air right now,” Ty admitted.
Instead of warning Ty away from Marissa, as Ty thought Jase might, the former photojournalist said, “When I first met Sara, she was married with a two-year-old. She was my physical therapist, and I’d come through a hard time. The next time we came in contact, she was a widow, a single mom with a fou
r-year-old. She had to put Amy first. We had to feel our way carefully until, well, I guess we couldn’t be careful any longer.” He hesitated a second, then said, “I guess what I’m trying to say is that this trial period with Marissa is probably a good thing...for both of you.”
Ty wasn’t sure what to say to that so he just nodded. “I’m not expecting too much, or expecting too little. We’ll just see how it goes.”
The two men left the bedroom then, and Ty almost felt like an alien on a strange planet. One day he was riding bulls, driving from state to state, winning championship purses. The next he was in a hospital room in Houston, looking at a recovery that was going to take months, if not longer. Now he was in his uncle’s ranch house, and the woman he was strongly attracted to would be sleeping in the bedroom next door. Did fate have a sense of humor or what?
* * *
It was late afternoon when Ty stood with Marissa in Jordan’s room. The baby had fallen asleep downstairs and Ty had carried him up to his crib.
“He might be up late tonight,” Marissa warned. “If this is a late nap—”
“It doesn’t matter.”
She eyed Ty cautiously. “Babies often wake up in the middle of the night—maybe two, three times. I never know. Jordan’s usually a good sleeper, but in a strange place, I don’t know what will happen.”
“If he wakes up and you think he’s scared, come get me. I can always take the crib down and put it up in your room.”
Marissa wasn’t sure what to think of this Ty. She’d always thought of him as fun. Maybe she just hadn’t looked for any deeper qualities. Or, on the other hand, maybe she’d sensed them all along.
“I’d like to hang decals on his walls. Maybe of horses. I don’t have to make a nail hole or anything.”
“Whatever you want to do. Unc and I won’t mind a few holes if you want to hang pictures. More than anything, Marissa, I want you and Jordan to feel at home.”
At home. How long had it been since she’d really had a home? Ever since her mom died, she’d felt as if she’d lost her roots. Ty didn’t realize that what he was offering her was awfully tempting. But they had a lot of bridges to cross before she could even think about staying here permanently. And if she did, in what capacity?
“Can we talk a minute?” she asked.
“Sure. Your room?”
She’d already made up her room and she supposed that was as good an idea as any. She nodded, expecting Ty to precede her out. He didn’t. He stayed by Jordan’s crib, resting his thumb over the little boy’s forehead. There was an expression on Ty’s face she’d never seen before. Was that longing? Longing for home and family?
As she entered her room, she paused at the dresser. She always gravitated toward it. She could remember her mom standing in front of it. She’d laid a crocheted scarf there that her grandmother had made. A comb and brush and a framed photo of Jordan sat to one side. On the other side, she’d positioned a glass perfume bottle. It was pink with gold leaf squiggles and a painted white flower. It was a treasured memento.
Ty came in behind her and met her eyes in the mirror. “What’s that?” he asked.
“It holds perfume,” she said with a little catch in her voice. “My grandma gave it to my mom for her birthday one year.”
“You like pretty things.”
Marissa quickly shook her head. “I like memories. When I take off the stopper, I can still smell the scent of her perfume. It takes me back. It helps me feel like she’s still watching over me—like both of them are.”
Ty didn’t seem to know what to say to that. But then he said, “It’s tough losing a parent. No matter how it happens.”
Marissa was ready to go deeper into that subject for his sake as well as hers when he changed the course of the conversation. She noticed that whenever they got a little too personal, he did that with topics he didn’t want to talk about.
“What did you want to speak to me about?” he asked.
“I need to feel as if I’m useful while I’m here. After all, you’re giving me room and board.”
His brow furrowed. “This isn’t about room and board. You’re Jordan’s mom. You don’t have to do anything while you’re here.”
“I don’t want to feel beholden, so just listen to me, okay?”
“Okay,” he agreed. “Shoot.”
“I can cook. I’d like to help out with meals.”
Ty thought that over, then he nodded. “I’m sure Unc would appreciate that, and I would, too.”
“And I want to help out with anything else that needs to be done. You said something about staining trim work at the cabins. I can do that.”
This time Ty wasn’t so quick to answer. “Maybe you can. But I don’t know if I want you doing that. Let me think about it.”
She would have moved away then but he took her arm, and when he did, she remembered the feel of his hands on her body, the way his kisses lifted her higher than she’d ever been lifted before.
His voice was low and gruff when he said, “This is going to work out, Marissa.”
When she looked into those blue eyes of his, she could almost believe him.
When she looked into those blue eyes of his, she wanted to be held in his arms.
As if he’d read her thoughts, he folded one arm around her and he lifted her chin with his thumb. “We were magic that night,” he said.
Had they been magic? Or had she felt too alone to be alone? Had Ty’s sense of humor and sexy appeal wrapped itself around her as his arm was now? She could step back, step away, leave the room. But, oh, how she didn’t want to. His arm around her, his thumb on her chin was just a taste of what they’d had that night.
She knew what was going to happen. After all, ever since they’d made love, she’d wondered how she’d feel if he kissed her again. She wondered how she’d feel if he touched her again. And now here he was doing it.
As his lips took hers, she remembered another way she’d felt that night—as if she belonged to him. Now as his tongue slid into her mouth, as he explored her, pulled her closer, touched her cheek so sensually she wanted to cry, she kissed him back. Not only did she kiss him back, she took hold of his shoulders, felt the male strength there and reacted like a woman who’d been hungry for a man’s kiss for much too long.
“Marissa,” he whispered, breaking the kiss, trailing his lips down her neck. He stopped to say, “This is right. You know it is.”
Although she felt almost drugged by Ty’s sexual appeal, by his warm touch, by his male scent, she was aware of the bed too, only about a foot away. She was aware of her mother’s furniture in a strange house. But most of all, her motherly instincts kicked in, and she was totally aware of Jordan only about fifteen feet away. She might want to drown in Ty’s kiss, but she knew better than to let him take it further than that. She knew better than to let herself take it further than that.
She shook her head and pushed away, breaking their contact but unable to break that wild connection.
She kept shaking her head and said, “No, we can’t kiss and...” She threw her hands up in frustration. “And do any more than that, because I came here for Jordan’s sake. We have a lot to figure out, and I’m not going to let a kiss from you muddle my thinking.”
When she’d started speaking, he’d looked a little defensive. But now a smile twitched up the corner of his mouth. “My kisses muddle your thinking?”
“You know they do. I wouldn’t have slept with you if they didn’t.” She hadn’t wanted to say it that bluntly, but that was the gist of what had happened.
“You think that night was just about kisses?” he asked more seriously now.
“Maybe not,” she confessed. “But you’re starting a new venture, and I’m trying to get used to the fact that you’re in my life now. And in Jordan’s. So let’s just conc
entrate on that.”
“It’s hard to do,” he muttered, “when you look so darn pretty, and every time I turn around, I can smell your shampoo.”
“Do you want me to change shampoos?” She was teasing because she wanted to keep the atmosphere between them light if she could.
“No, I don’t want you to change shampoos. I like it. But if I look at you as if I want to kiss you, I probably do.” He headed toward the door. “Unc is making his favorite chili for supper. Is that okay with you?”
“Does he use hot sauce?” she asked.
“He does.”
“If I could take a bit of it out before he puts the hot sauce in, I can give some to Jordan.”
“Good idea. See, this is working out already.”
She rolled her eyes as he left the room. Working out? They’d just have to see about that.
* * *
Late Wednesday morning, the oven timer went off while Marissa was mentally reviewing the preparations for Thanksgiving dinner the next day. She’d given Ty a shopping list last night and he’d bought everything on it, including a turkey so big he’d probably have to help her lift it into the oven.
They hadn’t been around each other much since that kiss. He was respecting her wishes and she was trying to keep out of his way.
In his play saucer, Jordan happily spoke gibberish as Eli came into the kitchen. Earlier he’d said he was going to muck out a few stalls while Ty was at physical therapy.
As he washed his hands at that new kitchen sink, he grumbled about it. “What a faucet! As if I don’t have the strength to turn one on. And that new smartphone that Ty got me...what happened to just using a phone to talk to someone? What next?”
She had to admit she liked Eli. Oh, he was gruff sometimes, but he was honest and they seemed to understand each other.
He glanced at the four pumpkin pies already cooling on the table. “I thought I heard the timer go off on my way in.”
“You did. Can you watch Jordan for a couple of seconds until I take these last two pies out of the oven?”
“Sure.”
He went over to the little boy and said, “Mom is making us something good to eat, but I don’t think we’re going to need all of them.”
The Cowboy's Secret Baby (The Mommy Club Book 3) Page 7