Asking for Trouble

by Jannine Gallant

  “That’s not a long story. Get to the good part.”

  A smile tugged at her lips. “How do you know there is a good part?”

  “Because you’ve been wandering around all morning with an absent look on your face, and I’m guessing Cole’s the reason. Spill the details.”

  “I stayed the night at his place.”

  Jenna straightened, and her brows shot up beneath wispy blonde bangs. “Now we’re talking!”

  “Nothing happened.” She picked at the crust on her bread and bit her lip. “Well, only a couple of kisses, but I might as well have slept with him. One look into those bedroom eyes undid six months of trying to get over him.” She dropped the sandwich, scattering lettuce. “How stupid am I to love the man when there’s no chance of a future together, at least not one that includes a family.”

  Leaning forward, Jenna covered her hand where it rested on the table and squeezed. “Are you sure about that?”

  She sighed. “Yes. It’s why we broke up, and nothing has changed.”

  “And you wouldn’t consider compromising?”

  Jerking her hand back, she pressed it to the ache in her chest. “I’ve thought about it, but is making a sacrifice like that fair? I wouldn’t ask him to change his lifestyle for me.” She drew in a long breath and let it out slowly. “Maybe it would work for a while, but I can’t stand the thought that I’d grow to resent him. We’d both end up miserable in the long run.”

  “Then what are you going to do?”

  “He wants to be friends, but I can’t. I just can’t.” When her voice rose on the last word, she cringed, but the room behind them remained quiet. “I have to find some way to get over him.”

  Jenna squared her shoulders and pulled her phone out of the pocket of her smock. “What you need is another man to distract you.”

  “I tried that with Brett. It didn’t work.”

  Scrolling through her contacts, she glanced up and made a face. “Brett was boring. You need a really hot guy to take your mind off of Cole. Sizzling.”

  “Redemption isn’t exactly loaded with single men oozing sex appeal, although it’s a lovely thought.” Shrugging, she picked up her sandwich and took another bite. “Eat your soup before it gets cold.”

  “In a minute. Ha.” She pushed a button and lifted the phone to her ear, then glanced up at the ceiling as she waited. “Hey, Gabe, it’s Jenna. Can you give me a call when you get this? Thanks.”

  “Gabe? Gabe who?”

  “Gabe Tyler, my friend Nora’s brother. I’m sure you’ve seen him around town. Really tall with dark hair and the cutest dimple, owns the Rocking T ranch. He’s one of those all-work-and-no-play type of guys, but he definitely meets the hot criteria.”

  “Are you kidding—”

  “Shh, you’ll wake the kids.”

  “I know who Gabe is, but the man never opens his mouth,” she hissed. “Talk about strong and silent…”

  “Maybe you’ll be the one to get him to open up.”

  Miranda clutched her head with both hands. “If he calls back, tell him you had a brain fart and dialed the wrong number.”

  Choking on her soup, her friend gasped for breath. “You’re funny and beautiful. That’s a combo no man, including tall, dark and silent Gabe, can resist.”

  “I’m mildly amusing and passably pretty, but I’d die of embarrassment if he told you no thanks.” She shook her head. “How desperate will I look if my friends are hooking me up?”

  Jenna rolled her eyes. “Give me a little credit for tact. By the time I’m finished with Gabe, he’ll think the whole date was his idea. You just leave it to me.”

  A whimpering cry echoed from the room full of babies.

  “I don’t want to leave it to you—damn.”

  When a second wail sounded, Miranda jumped to her feet and hurried to reach the culprit. In the dimly lit room, Jackson stood in his crib, shaking the rail.

  A smile lit his face when he saw her. “Ran, Ran, Ran.”

  “Shh.” Bending, she picked him up and carried him out, giving his bottom a little pat.

  Jenna heaved herself off the chair to place her empty soup bowl in the sink. “What’s wrong?”

  “His diaper is wet. I wonder how much duct tape Cole used this time.”

  “Excuse me?”

  Laying the baby on a changing pad, she slipped off his pants. “Amazing.”

  “What is?”

  “The diaper. Looks like it was applied by a competent adult. Imagine that.”

  Jenna laughed softly. “Cole is obviously full of surprises. I wonder…”

  Glancing up, she gave her friend an enquiring look. “Wonder what?”

  “Never mind. The girls in the corner are beginning to stir. I guess nap time is over early today.”

  “Most good things end too soon.” She fastened a clean diaper on Jackson and smiled when he giggled and clapped his hands. “Time to get back to work.”

  Hours later, she tapped her toe and stared out at the empty parking lot before glancing up at the clock on the wall. Five-fifteen and no sign of Cole.

  “Are you sure you don’t mind if I leave? Troy invited a new client to dinner, and I’ve a few last minute details to attend to, even though Honey is catering the meal.”

  Miranda turned away from the window. “I thought Honey had chicken pox.”

  Jenna slipped the strap of her purse over her shoulder and rested her free hand on her belly. “She’s feeling better, though she still looks God awful, and she didn’t want to cancel on me completely. Chase is dropping off the food, and I’ll serve it.”

  “For heaven’s sake, go. I’ll wait for Cole.”

  “See you tomorrow, then.”

  After the door shut behind her, the minutes ticked by. Apparently bored with the big, yellow dump truck, Jackson tossed it on the floor and let out a yell.

  “I know exactly how you feel.” Squatting beside him, she lifted the baby in her arms. “Let’s try your uncle. Again.”

  Jackson chirped approval.

  Grabbing her cell phone off the table, she pressed redial and frowned when it immediately went to voice mail. She didn’t want to spend time alone with Cole, but he was forcing her hand.

  With a sigh, she juggled Jackson on her hip. “Good thing I bought a spare car seat for emergencies.”

  “Unka, Unka.”

  Her lip curled. “Yep, we’re going to go find your uncle. Then I’m going to kill him.”

  ****

  “Easy. Easy. You break the antlers, and there’ll be hell to pay.” Cole grunted and strained as he and the two haulers struggled to carry the moose up the ramp onto the trailer.

  First, his usual guys were unavailable, so he’d been forced to go with another company. Then, they’d arrived an hour late, pissing him off to no end. And to top it off, one guy was about the size of a twelve-year-old girl and kept letting the rear feet drag. Fuming and sweating, Cole wrestled the overgrown hunk of art into position. He was fastening the straps to hold the moose in place when a blue bug barreled down the driveway, a cloud of dust spewing out behind it.

  Miranda. His spirits lifted—then dropped like a stone. Hell and damnation, he’d forgotten all about picking up Jackson.

  With a long sigh, he tightened the remaining straps and signed the form on the driver’s clipboard. Then, with a final pat for the moose’s butt, he stepped away from the trailer. The engine fired up, and the truck eased around the bug to roll down the drive.

  Miranda lifted Jackson from his car seat and stood close to the bumper while the baby waved toward the departing moose and screamed. Based on the fire in her eyes, she’d passed irritated and gone straight to furious some time ago. Cole pasted on his most endearing smile, the one that almost always worked with women when he’d done something stupid, and stepped forward.

  “I can explain.”

  “Don’t bother.” She wiped tears off Jackson’s cheeks with her thumb and shushed him. “Don’t cry. Your uncle will make y
ou a new moose.”

  “Bears. Next up is a trio of bears.”

  She held out his nephew, and Cole took him. At least the crying had stopped.

  “I really am sorry. Time got away from me. It’s been one of those days.”

  “Imagine if all my parents used that excuse.”

  A surge of annoyance stiffened his spine. “Then I guess it’s a good thing I’m not a parent.”

  Her lips tightened before she turned on her heel. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

  All the fight drained out of him. It really had been a miserable day, starting with a carton of milk spilled across the kitchen floor and ending with the incompetent haulers. The only bright spot was the woman pulling open her car door.

  “Don’t go yet. I have a couple of steaks I can throw on the grill. My way of apologizing for your time and trouble.”

  Slowly, she turned to face him. “That’s probably not such a great idea.”

  “Why not? We both have to eat. Unless you have other plans…” His stomach knotted as he waited for her answer.

  “I think we’ve reached the saturation point in time spent together these last few days.”

  He resettled the hat on his head and raised a brow. “Sick of me?”

  “No, but—”

  Swiveling on his boot heel, he headed toward the house, hoping against hope she’d follow. “You can make a salad while I start the grill.”

  “Cole…”

  The scuff of her shoe against gravel produced a satisfied grin. He picked up his pace, drawing her further away from the car and escape. If he could just get her inside…

  “You act like we’re dating, and we’re not.” Her voice was breathless as she climbed the steps behind him.

  The boy kicked and squirmed to get down, and he lowered Jackson to the porch floor next to Tucker’s bed. The dog gave him a long suffering look, but put up with a big, clumsy hug.

  Turning with a hand on the screen door, Cole faced Miranda. “Did I say anything about a date?”

  “No, but—”

  “It’s six o’clock. Aren’t you hungry?”

  “Yes, but—”

  “So, we’ll have a meal. By the time you go to the store, drive home and cook, it’ll be late. Seems kind of pointless when I have two T-bones in the refrigerator.”

  Her shoulders sagged. “Fine.”

  Guilt ate at him as he headed through the house and out to the back yard where the barbeque sat beside a glass topped table and a pair of wrought iron chairs with faded red, corduroy cushions. The evening breeze still held the day’s warmth. Eating outside with the smell of honeysuckle in the air from the tangled patch climbing the side of the cabin might put Miranda at ease. She was strung tighter than a bale of alfalfa, and he knew he was to blame. The last thing he wanted was to hurt her again, and he wasn’t sure exactly what he hoped to accomplish with his current persistence.

  Shaking briquettes into the barbeque, he squirted on lighter fluid and frowned. Maybe he was lying to himself. He wanted Miranda in his life. Period. Missing her was a constant ache in his heart, one that wouldn’t go away despite his best efforts to move on. There had to be a way to work things out between them. When he struck a match and tossed it on the grill, the briquettes lit with an explosion of flame.

  “You’re lucky you didn’t lose your eyebrows.”

  He turned and smiled. “I may have gotten carried away with the lighter fluid.”

  With her long, auburn hair flowing over the shoulder of a blue cotton shirt the exact color of her eyes, Miranda took his breath away. His fingers itched to stroke her soft cheek, to glide along her collarbone then downward to the rounded tops of her breasts. Wincing when his jeans tightened painfully, he shifted position and hoped she wouldn’t notice.

  “I threw a couple of potatoes in the oven to bake and gave Jackson a handful of crackers to keep him happy until dinner’s ready.”

  “Thanks.” He closed his eyes and winced. “Crap, I left him on the front porch.”

  “You were distracted.”

  “I appreciate the fact you aren’t yelling at me, though I know I deserve it.” He dropped onto one of the chairs and patted the cushion of the other. “Sit. Relax.”

  She hesitated, eyeing the open back door. “Jackson’s in his highchair, but…”

  He bounced up like an uncoiled spring. “I’ll bring him out.” Brushing by her, he paused to touch a silky strand of hair before entering the kitchen where he plucked his nephew out of the highchair. When the baby squawked, he handed over the remaining crackers and scowled. “Not a peep out of you. Got it? I’d like to have a nice, relaxing evening with Miranda.”

  “Ran. Ran.”

  “That’s right, Ran.” Reaching into the refrigerator, he pulled out two beers, then paused by the door to flip on the flood lights to battle the encroaching darkness. “Come along, Tucker. You can earn your dog chow by entertaining the boy.”

  With a moan, the ridgeback surged to his feet and followed. Cole grunted in satisfaction. At least someone listened to him, even if that someone had four legs and a tail. With his hands full, he headed outside, set the bottles on the table, then lowered Jackson to the patio’s brick floor.

  “So, how was your day?”

  Miranda turned away from the sun sinking below the horizon in a burst of gold and crimson, and regarded him with a sober expression. Taking the beer he offered, she nodded her thanks. “Pretty typical. One skinned knee, two leaking diapers, and twelve finger-painted masterpieces. And I did call the local paper about placing an ad for a new employee.”

  “That’s good.” He took a swallow of beer and eyed her steadily. “What’s bugging you, then, besides the fact I left you stranded with Jackson?”

  “I was a little pissed, but I’m over it. What I’m not over is this.” She spread her arms wide. “You and me, hanging out like an old married couple discussing our day.” She placed her beer on the table then pressed a hand to her breasts. “It isn’t helping, Cole. It’s making me want something I can’t have.”

  He reared back. “I want it, too.”

  “No, you only want part of it.” She pointed at Jackson who’d crawled into the grass to sit near Tucker. The boy threw dandelions into the air and giggled when they showered down on the dog. Miranda’s eyes clouded. “I want it all.”

  “Maybe…”

  “No maybe.” Swinging around, she crossed the patio. “I’ll go make a salad, and we won’t talk about this again.”

  Cole stared after her departing back, and to his amazement, tears burned his eyes. He loved Miranda with an intensity that shook him to his soul. But was it enough to forgo his freedom?

  Chapter Seven

  “Maybe you should call Gabe back. A date with a handsome man isn’t exactly the worst idea you’ve ever had.”

  Jenna turned with a hand pressed to her lower back. At her feet, two little boys played tug-o-war with a Superman doll, their screams rising in volume. After dropping a Spiderman figure into the fray, her harassed expression brightened. “Really?”

  Miranda nodded. “I have to do something.” She held tight to Jackson’s hands while he toddled across the room on unsteady legs. “Cole is going to break my heart into pieces—again—if I don’t.”

  “Unka, Unka.”

  She grimaced and gently lowered Jackson to the carpet. He crawled away to join the boys still fighting over the superheroes. With a practiced eye, she assessed the trio, determined they weren’t quite ready to clobber each other, and walked away. Jenna followed.

  “What happened last night?”

  “Nothing. I delivered Cole’s nephew to him and then, like a fool, let him convince me to stay for dinner.” She rubbed the back of her neck, hoping to stop the tension headache before it took hold. “It’s just hard, seeing everything I ever wanted so close—and yet unattainable. I need a new focus, and an evening spent trying to pry complete sentences out of Gabe Tyler will demand my full attention.”

 
“That’s good news, especially since it’s already a done deal.”

  Miranda frowned as guilt flashed through her friend’s eyes. “Huh?”

  “When Gabe returned my call, I didn’t want to disappoint him, so I set up the date.”

  “Even though I told you not to?”

  Jenna’s smile would have dazzled a less jaded recipient. “Well, turns out it’s a good thing. You’d have seemed a little schizophrenic, changing your mind back and forth.”

  “And you planned to inform me when?”

  “As soon as I worked up the courage. I told Gabe you’d meet him at the Rusty Nail for drinks tomorrow night at six-thirty. Anything else is up to you.”

  “Gee, thanks.”

  Her friend ignored the sarcasm. “You bet. Maybe I should quit my job here and start a matchmaking service.”

  “Or run for political office. They never listen to the people they work for, either.”

  A snort of laughter shook her protruding belly. Clasping her sides, she moaned. “That hurt. And speaking of employee relationships, how’d the interview go?”

  “Very well. If Stephanie Miller’s background check passes, I’ll probably hire her. Then you can cut back on your hours before you bring on early labor.”

  “I wouldn’t argue with that. Anyway, she has patient eyes. In this business, that’s important.”

  “You’ve got that right.” Behind her, a shriek of outrage pierced the air. As Miranda sprinted toward the culprit who clutched a pair of plastic, blunt nosed scissors like a dagger, she wondered if Cole didn’t have the right idea. There was something to be said for a life without children.

  ****

  Ruggedly handsome was the term that sprang to mind when she gazed into Gabe Tyler’s deep blue eyes—or tried to. The single dimple stirred appreciation, but not the lust Miranda had been hoping for. Maybe if she could get the man to pry open his lips and talk that would change.

  “Is this a busy time on your ranch?”

  “Yep, but most times are.” He swirled his scotch on the rocks and stared down at the condensation rings on the round table where they sat in a corner of the Rusty Nail Saloon.