“Once his head touches the pillow he starts snoring, and he doesn’t hear a thing. Not that there will be anything to hear,” he said. “We’ll be too busy kissing. Unless, of course, you let me take you on the table.”
Laughter bubbled up from inside of her. Ty was so outrageous sometimes. Outrageously sexy. She was still smiling when his lips came down on hers.
Ty’s kiss wasn’t as seductive as it was fervor-filled. She realized they’d gone beyond coaxing. They’d gone beyond temptation. They both knew that this was exactly what they wanted—and more.
At that moment, maybe she finally accepted the fact that Ty was Jordan’s father and would be staying in his life. He would be in her life, too. Could she convince him that a life here in Fawn Grove could be as rich and fulfilling, if not as exciting, as a life on the road, visiting new places, seeing new people?
As Ty’s tongue traced her lips, she shook from wanting him, from the erotic pleasure he could give her. She thought about the table and what he’d said, and how exciting that would be. Reaching around him, she grabbed hold of his denim shirt and wished he wasn’t wearing it.
Sensual pleasure caught fire in every nerve in her body. His hands were in her hair now, and each sweep of his tongue, each touch of his fingers stoked her desire as well as his. His hands left her hair, went to her back waist and slid under her sweater. His fingers were long and callused and deliciously enticing. A moan escaped her lips as his hands passed up her sides and came around to her breasts. He put a little space between them and pushed her sweater up. When his hands cupped her, she moaned into his mouth. After she pulled his shirt from the back of his jeans, she slid her fingers along his waistband. and this time, he groaned.
“You are so intoxicating,” he murmured into her neck. “Like fine whiskey I’d never tasted. But when I finally did, I couldn’t get enough of it. That table isn’t so faraway,” he said, making her aware with his body of what he wanted to do.
She almost gave in. She really almost did. But what had she told Jase? She didn’t make impulsive decisions anymore. The consequences were too great, the responsibility too grave. When she made love with Ty again, she had to know in the deepest recesses of her heart that it was the right decision to make.
Although she didn’t want to, although she didn’t know what his reaction was going to be, she pulled away. He held on tightly for a few moments, but then he released her.
She still didn’t have the answer to an important question, and it was time she did before they got more serious, before she gave in to a need that could blow up her life. She needed to know something. This probably wasn’t the best time, but they were alone, and she wanted a few answers.
Swallowing hard, finding her voice, she said, “Tell me about Darla.”
Instead of the eye roll or the rigid set of his jaw that she expected, he sighed. “You’re determined to break the mood, aren’t you?” he asked.
“My question is part of the whole mood. You can’t expect me to just fall into your arms when I don’t know who was there last.”
He eyed her steadily to see how serious she was. Then he motioned to the table and chairs. “All right. We’ll have a discussion at that table instead of using it for something else.”
She felt herself blush, and she wasn’t sure even why, except maybe she wanted the experience of making love with him on that table, too.
The coffeepot was always on. Eli and Ty often both stopped in for a cup throughout the day. Now Ty went over to it, took two mugs from the mug tree and poured them both a cup.
Maybe he was stalling a bit, but he went to the refrigerator and poured milk in hers. When he brought it to her, she added a teaspoon of sugar from the bowl on the table.
They sat next to each other and his thigh brushed hers. He took a sip of the coffee and eyed her over the brim. “For some reason, your coffee’s better than what Eli and I ever made.”
She didn’t respond. She just waited. For whatever reason, this was hard for him. She’d give him leeway, and she’d be patient.
He must have seen that because he took another sip and set down his mug and leaned against the chair back. That movement increased the space between them.
“I met Darla in Texas,” he began. “She was one of those red-boots-straw-hat women who barrel raced. We saw each other at a couple of rodeos and went out for drinks.”
“And then one night...” Marissa prompted, unable to keep quiet any longer.
“It wasn’t exactly like that,” Ty protested. “Yes, we were attracted to each other. But we had rodeoing in common, too. We knew a lot of the same folks. She understood the circuit.”
Marissa had thought maybe theirs had been a one-night stand. Like your own one-night stand? the little devil on her shoulder asked. But she ignored that for now. Whatever Ty had had with Darla sounded more serious, as if they could have made a life together. She was dying to ask what happened but she knew she had to be patient.
After a few more swallows of coffee, Ty turned the mug around within his large hands. “I thought I was a good judge of people,” he said. “Of women. But I had Darla pegged all wrong.”
“What do you mean?”
“It took me a while to figure it out, but she liked the idea of dating a prize-winning rodeo cowboy. After my accident and prognosis, I found out she wasn’t keen about hanging with a cowboy who was no longer able to compete.”
“She broke up with you after the accident?”
“Oh, yeah. She dumped me not long after I had surgery. She was honest about it. I have to give her credit for that. I mean it was clear I was never going to ride bulls again. The truth was I didn’t know if I’d be able to ride period. She even talked to my doctor to get the bottom line.”
“You were that close? Close enough, I mean, that the doctor would talk to her?”
“That close,” Ty said. “I’d even looked at engagement rings.”
It was easy to see now why Ty had his own trust issues, besides the fact that she hadn’t told him about Jordan. After all, his mother had left. His girlfriend had done the same when the going got tough.
They really were quite a pair.
As much as Ty’s trust issues, she was worried about something else. “That wasn’t so long ago,” she noted. “How do you feel about Darla now?”
“I don’t feel anything,” he admitted.
“Maybe you just numbed yourself.”
He shook his head vehemently. “Not at the beginning—because it was easier to be angry about our breakup and hurt about her desertion than it was about my recovery and rehabilitation. I went through all of that. But when I came back here to help Unc, when we started making over the Cozy C, I realized what was important. I realized I had been wrong about her and it was a good thing I got out while the getting was good. I don’t have any regrets because hooking up with her could have been a lot worse. A marriage with her would have had divorce stamped on it before our signatures were dry.”
“I’m sorry that happened to you.”
He pushed his chair back and got to his feet. “It’s over, Marissa. Done and finished. Now I’m a dad, and nothing’s more important than that.”
But Marissa knew after what had happened here a few minutes ago that they, she and Ty, could become as important—if only the two of them could put aside the past and learn to trust.
Chapter Nine
Marissa was in the middle of breakfast the next morning when her cell phone buzzed. Eli and Ty were forking in scrambled eggs while Jordan pushed his around with his fingers.
Ty arched a brow quizzically as she answered the phone. She just shrugged because she had no idea who’d be calling at this time of day unless Jase had an emergency.
Then she saw the caller ID on her screen—Scott Donaldson.
“Good morning, Mr.
Donaldson.”
At that, Ty frowned.
“Good morning, Miss Lopez. Has Jase Cramer cleared you to take on outside clients?”
Donaldson’s voice was warm and friendly yet a bit businesslike, too.
“Yes, he has. Do you still want me to plan a party for you?”
“I do. For Saturday, December 12. You have almost two weeks. Can you do it?”
“Do you have a guest list?”
“Of course.”
“How many do you expect?”
“Thirty to forty.”
“I can do it. But we’ll have to consult. I need to know if you want your house decorated for Christmas, what you think your guests would like to eat and whether I can contact them by email or written invitation.”
“You’ve thought about this,” he said.
“I have. I like to be prepared.”
“How about if I stop over at the Cozy C tonight? That way we can iron it all out, and I can talk to Eli again.”
“Are you still trying to convince him to sell?” she asked, wondering if the consultation was the true reason for his visit or if it was further contact with Eli.
“I might be, but that won’t be first on my priority list. I want you to get started on the party,” he assured her.
“I often contract with the flower shop right here in Fawn Grove for flowers and decorations, too. I can work up a proposal on my lunch hour and have it ready for you tonight.”
“You are organized.”
“I try to be.”
“Beautiful, smart and a good business sense. What more could a man want?”
The compliment was nice, but she wasn’t sure she liked it coming from Scott Donaldson. Still, maybe he meant nothing by it.
Ty studiously kept his attention on the breakfast in front of him when she ended the call and returned to eating.
“So you’re going to do it?”
She looked up at him. “I’m going to write up a proposal and see if he accepts it.”
Ty glanced sideways at her. “He’s a flirt and a charmer.”
“He’s a potential client, and if Jordan wants to go to college someday, I’d better start saving now.”
Eli harrumphed.
Ty went back to eating, and Marissa wondered what kind of reception Scott Donaldson would get when he came in the door of the Cozy C tonight.
That evening, around seven, Eli sat in the living room watching TV while Ty was checking on the horses in the barn. Marissa had given Jordan a few harmless utensils to play with and he used them to push around his blocks as well as banging them on the floor every now and then. When she’d gotten home tonight, Eli had let her use the computer in the barn to print out a proposal. Now it sat on the counter just waiting for Scott Donaldson.
She heard the vehicle drive down the lane and the purr of an expensive engine. A few minutes later, she heard a car door shut, and then the knock came on the door. But before she could pick up Jordan and go into the living room to answer it, Ty stepped inside, Scott right behind him.
Scott Donaldson had a thousand-watt smile for her. Ty’s face was stoic. He had let the guy in but surely hadn’t wanted to.
Donaldson came in first and glanced down at Jordan. “I think he’s grown since I saw him last.”
“Where did you see him?” Ty wanted to know.
“I got a glimpse of him at church on Sunday,” Scott responded. “He certainly was well behaved for his age.”
Ty looked from her to Donaldson as if they’d had some kind of secret meeting. Well, if he had questions, he’d just have to ask them later. She had seen Scott at church and waved at him, but that was about it.
Ty went to Jordan and picked him up from the floor. He said, “How about if we change you into your night gear? That will give your mommy time to consult.”
“Thank you,” she said, meaning it. It was hard to conduct a business meeting with a fourteen-month-old demanding her attention. It was plain to see that Ty understood that.
After he’d left the kitchen, she brought the proposal to the table. “Would you like a cup of coffee?”
“Sure would. I stop in at that expensive coffee shop in town every day, and I can’t say it’s worth it.”
“No flavored coffee here,” she joked. “Ty and Eli are straight caffeine cowboys.”
She poured herself a mug and him one, too, careful not to get any drips on the table.
“How’s business for the new year?” Donaldson asked.
“We just started the media campaign.”
“So you’re involved in that, too, Miss Lopez? Do you mind if I call you Marissa? I like to be on a first name basis with business associates.”
That made sense, she supposed. “No, I don’t mind.”
“Then call me Scott. Okay with you?”
“That’s fine,” she said, sitting down across from him.
Instead of staying where he was, he moved his chair closer to hers, ostensibly to be able to read the proposal more easily. She could smell his cologne, something musky that smelled expensive. His suit was expensive, too, a navy wool with pinstripes. She guessed his tie was silk. When he first walked in, she’d noticed his cordovan loafers, a little different from Ty’s boots.
He checked the first page of the proposal, her hourly rate, and seemed satisfied with it. Then he began studying the next page where she’d detailed the expenses—the flowers, decorations, food and servers. She’d spent a good portion of her lunch hour on the phone with the florist and the caterer.
Scott leaned back in his chair and gave her a grin. “I should have done this long before now. You’ve covered everything and I didn’t have to spend a minute of time on it.”
She laughed. “I hope I covered everything. Are you sure the hors d’oeuvres meet your approval? Anything on there can be changed. If you don’t want the crab balls, we can go with stuffed mushrooms instead. The stromboli squares are always a big hit. We served them at the bachelor auction.”
“I can see you’ve added a wine selection,” he said. “Raintree Wines?” He arched an eyebrow.
“I based the prices on Raintree Wines, but if you’d like another brand, that’s fine.”
Now he laughed. “I’m teasing. Of course we’ll use Raintree Wines. Only one thing I’d like to add. How about an open bar? Can you find me a bartender? Some of my contacts are strict bourbon drinkers, and they know good bourbon. How about Pappy Van Winkle’s, fifteen year?”
She computed in her head and added a number onto the list of other expenses. “That’s how much we’d add on.”
“Marissa, I find this all quite affordable. I’m not sure you’re charging a high enough hourly rate. Just today you had to have spent at least an hour or two on this.”
“Since you’re my first client, the consultation and preliminary work were free.”
He narrowed his eyes. “I’m not sure if that’s good business, a way to make sure I hire you again, or if you’re cheating yourself.”
He was friendly and winsome and she liked his honesty. “Believe me, I’m not cheating myself. I can buy a bunch of diapers with this commission.”
Again he laughed. Then he grew more serious. “So tell me something, Marissa. I’ve heard rumors about you and Ty Conroy. Are you living here permanently, or is this a temporary situation?”
Should she tell him it was none of his business? Why was he even asking? Then she thought about the hefty commission, and having him hire her for more party planning in the future, maybe even spreading the word about her services.
“This is temporary. Ty and I are just trying to find our footing as parents.”
“I see,” he said, leaning a little closer to pick up the pen.
Just then, Ty came into the kitchen, holding Jorda
n. Again he wore an expression that gave nothing away. Jordan was all changed, in his red, yellow and blue color-blocked pajamas.
“Time for Jordan’s snack,” Ty said, pulling the baby’s high chair over to the table.
Scott said, “I guess I’d better sign on the dotted line.” He did so, and then turned to Marissa. “If you have any questions, or any problems crop up, just give me a call. My cell phone’s always turned on.”
“I’ll do that. The florist will probably want to set up in the afternoon on the day of the party. The caterer will set up about an hour before. Is that all right?”
“No problem with either. I’ll make myself scarce so I’m not in the way. You’ll be there to direct everything?”
“Of course.” She could ask Kaitlyn or Sara to babysit now that this was a done deal. They often exchanged babysitting favors.
Scott extended his hand, wanting to shake hers. She let his fingers engulf hers and he held on a couple of moments too long, she thought.
But then he said, “It’s good to do business with you. Can you email me a copy of the proposal?” he asked.
“Sure thing.”
“Good night, then. I’ll talk to you soon.” His words had a husky, promising quality that made Ty’s eyes narrow. When she would have accompanied him to the door, Scott said, “I’ll touch base with Eli later. I can let myself out.”
A few moments later, they heard the front door close.
Ty pulled a container of the cookies she’d baked from the counter, took out one and laid it on the tray of the high chair. “You two seem to get along well.”
“Ty, this is business.”
“And Donaldson knows how to do business. I heard him laughing. I heard you laughing.”
“We were discussing his party and the kind of bourbon he wanted to serve.”
Ty’s brows arched. “Bourbon. He was sitting a little close to be discussing bourbon.”
“Say what’s on your mind, Ty.”
“All right. He’s got money, he’s got looks and he’s got flash.”
“And what of it?” she asked. “I imagine if I have other clients who can afford a party planner, they’re going to have all of those, too. By the way,” she said, wanting to change the subject, “do you mind if I use your computer again to send him the proposal?”
The Cowboy's Secret Baby (The Mommy Club Book 3) Page 12