The Maverick's Ready-Made Family

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The Maverick's Ready-Made Family Page 11

by Brenda Harlen


  When Antonia excused herself to visit the ladies’ room, Clay cornered his brother. “What are you doing?”

  “Trying to enjoy myself,” Forrest said easily.

  “With Antonia?”

  “You said your invitation to her wasn’t a date,” Forrest reminded him.

  “And you decided that made it okay for you to hit on her?”

  His brother shrugged. “She’s sexy, we’re both single.”

  Clay’s fingers curled into his palms, his jaw clenched.

  Forrest smiled knowingly. “You really want to punch me right now, don’t you?”

  Clay did, but he was determined to show better impulse control than his cousin Jackson had done in the past, or the Traubs would forever be known as rabble-rousers in Thunder Canyon.

  He deliberately relaxed his fists and tucked his hands into his pockets. “Are you trying to make me hit you?”

  “I’m trying to make you admit that you have feelings for the woman.”

  “Don’t toy with her, Forrest,” he warned.

  “She can handle herself,” his brother said confidently.

  Which wasn’t the reassurance Clay had been seeking, but Antonia’s return prevented him from pursuing the topic any further. At least for now.

  “Can I get you something to drink, Antonia?” Forrest asked her.

  “Anything non-alcoholic and non-caffeinated would be great.”

  “I’ll get it,” Clay said, glaring at his brother.

  Antonia’s gaze shifted between the brothers, as if she sensed the undercurrents between them.

  Forrest just shrugged. “I’ll have a beer—whatever they’ve got on tap.”

  And Clay realized that he’d fallen easily into his brother’s trap. By insisting that he get her drink, he’d left Antonia alone with Forrest. Not that he really believed his brother was going to put the moves on her, but there were times that he honestly didn’t know what Forrest was going to do anymore.

  As he made his way to the bar to get a glass of ginger ale for Antonia, he crossed paths with D.J. and Dax. His cousins had been raised by their father in Thunder Canyon after the death of their mother, and both had grown up to achieve success in their chosen endeavors. D.J. was renowned for his chain of restaurants, of course, and Dax owned a motorcycle shop in Old Town.

  When Clay stopped to speak with them, he had a strange feeling, almost like déjà vu. For a minute, their voices sounded far away, giving him a niggling sense of another conversation he’d overheard, as if from a long time ago. But he couldn’t remember anything about the content of that conversation and he didn’t know why it had crossed his mind now, so he pushed the uneasy feeling aside and continued toward the bar.

  Returning with Antonia’s beverage, he found that she had moved on with Forrest and was now standing close to another man, laughing at whatever he said. He felt an unexpected stab of something that, if he didn’t know better, might have been jealousy. But he did know better, and when he recognized the other man as his cousin Jason, who was now happily married to Jocelyn—a transplant from California and former runaway bride—he felt even more ridiculous.

  When Clay reached the group that also included Jason’s beautiful wife, his cousin offered to give them a grand tour of the new place. Having grown up in Thunder Canyon, Antonia was familiar with the long and colorful history of the establishment, but since Clay and Forrest were not, Jason entertained them with anecdotes—some of which he admitted had likely been greatly exaggerated through repeated narration over the years.

  As interesting as the stories were, the guests were most impressed by the planning and attention to detail that had gone into the renovations. It had been important to both Jason and Joss to ensure that The “new and improved” Hitching Post continued to respect its Montana history and maintain its Western style. Cates Construction, the company that had been hired to oversee the renovations, had done both.

  “The bar and restaurant area on the main level have been completely overhauled,” Jason explained, leading them toward the stairs. “And the upper level, formerly comprised of a collection of rooms available to rent, has been converted into a salon.”

  A salon that had a decidedly cozy and distinctly Western atmosphere with overstuffed leather chairs, hand-carved rockers and deer antlers mounted on the walls. In addition, there were cowhide rugs scattered over the glossy wood floors, tables for card games and quiet corners for intimate conversations.

  Antonia’s lips curved as she moved toward the large stone fireplace. “I wondered if Lily Divine would still be here.”

  Jason grinned. “There was no way we could even consider getting rid of her.”

  “Who?” Forrest wanted to know.

  The Hitching Post’s proud owner pointed to the antique portrait hung above the mantel. And while the painting might have been old, many would consider it risqué even by contemporary standards. Because in the portrait, the undeniably lovely Lily Divine was undeniably stark naked, with any illusion of modesty preserved only by a bit of gauzy fabric strategically draped across her feminine attributes.

  “She was the original owner of The Hitching Post,” Jason explained. “Although back in the 1890s it was a house of ill-repute known as the Shady Lady Saloon.”

  “It might become known as a house of ill-repute again,” Clay teased. “With Jason Traub in charge.”

  His cousin chuckled. “While Joss is hoping to establish a reputation for The Hitching Post, I’m not sure that’s quite what she has in mind.”

  And it was obvious by the affection in his voice that Jason would do anything he could to make his wife’s hopes and dreams come true.

  “You’ve done a fabulous job with the place,” Antonia said to him.

  “It’s been a labor of love,” Jason admitted. “But now that it’s open for business, can I get you some drinks?”

  The response was unanimous. “Absolutely.”

  “Okay then, find some empty seats and I’ll have a couple of beers sent up. And another ginger ale for Antonia.”

  “Sounds like a plan,” Forrest agreed, and led the way to a vacant seating area tucked in a corner.

  * * *

  The waitress who delivered the drinks was yet another classmate of Antonia’s from Thunder Canyon High School. After passing around the beverages, Trina paused to chat for a minute, ostensibly to ask Antonia about Jonah’s injury. But Antonia could tell from the speculative glances that Trina sent to both Clayton and Forrest in turn that the waitress was more interested in the Traub men than Antonia’s brother—a fact that was proven when Trina looked directly at Clay and said, “I’ll be back to check on you guys real soon.”

  Antonia told herself it was foolish to be offended by the other woman’s blatant flirtation, but it was just like the situation with Vanessa at the movies all over again. And while it wasn’t as if the woman was making a move on her date, because this wasn’t a date, it still smarted to be treated as if she were invisible. Well, Trina was acting as if Antonia were invisible, while Vanessa had taken an entirely different tack—focusing on the fact that her pregnancy made Antonia impossible to miss.

  “Do you know everyone in this town?” Forrest asked her when Trina had finally gone.

  “Probably everyone who went to Thunder Canyon High School during the years that I was there,” she admitted.

  “Did you ever want to live anywhere else?”

  He sounded genuinely interested in her response, and Antonia found herself wondering if he was thinking about making Thunder Canyon his permanent home. “Not until recently.”

  The Traub brothers seemed to instinctively know that she was referring to the gossip that had surrounded her pregnancy.

  “It’s hard, living in a small town where everyone knows your business,” Clay said.

 
“But it can be comforting, too,” she told them. “The lack of anonymity means that you’re never truly alone.”

  “I like being anonymous,” Forrest told them.

  Antonia had to smile. “You think you’re anonymous here? You’re the injured war hero who’s helping to set up the animal therapy group for veterans.”

  “I’m not a hero,” Forrest denied. And then, because the conversation was obviously taking a path he didn’t want to follow, he rose to his feet. “I think I see Russ Chilton over there and I wanted to talk to him about a horse.”

  “I didn’t mean to make him uncomfortable,” Antonia said.

  “You didn’t,” Clay assured her.

  But she was unconvinced. “I shouldn’t have mentioned his injury.”

  “It’s not the injury. It’s just that he doesn’t like to talk about his time in the service.”

  “Not even to you?”

  “Not to anyone—a reality that weighs more heavily on my mother than anyone else. None of her boys ever had a problem that she couldn’t fix—until now.”

  Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Forrest was deep in conversation with Russ Chilton. He wasn’t convinced that they were talking horses and suspected that his brother had maneuvered the situation to give Clay some time alone with Antonia. Although to what purpose, he didn’t know. Even if he was attracted to Antonia—and Forrest had obviously clued into the fact that he was—he had no intention of making a move on his pregnant landlady. No intention at all.

  Of course, now that they were alone together, he couldn’t stop thinking about the possible moves that he might make—if he was going to make a move. But of course he wasn’t. And it was ridiculous to feel awkward just because they were alone together. Over the past several weeks, they’d spent a lot of time together, although usually with someone else around—Forrest or Bennett or one of Antonia’s brothers or a ranch hand. Without anyone else near and no movie screen to focus their attention, neither of them seemed to know what to say or do.

  Then another server circulated through the upper level—this one wasn’t a former classmate of Antonia’s but the younger brother of her mechanic—delivering trays of hot appetizers to the guests. The arrival of the food alleviated the tension, at least for the moment. Antonia loaded up her plate with garlic parmesan grilled shrimp and spicy Buffalo wings and nacho chips dripping with cheese and jalapenos, and then she loaded it up again.

  “Eating for two,” she said unapologetically.

  Clay set his now-empty plate aside and picked up his beer. “The baby doesn’t mind spicy food?”

  “The baby doesn’t seem to mind anything so long as I eat.”

  “Any bizarre cravings?”

  “Ice cream,” she admitted.

  “That doesn’t seem so bizarre.”

  “At almost any time of the day, even seven o’clock in the morning.”

  “Okay, that’s a little unusual,” he allowed. “Did you want me to go down to the kitchen to see if Jason has any in the freezer?”

  She smiled and set her plate aside. “Thanks, but I think I’m good for now.”

  “Are you going to leave that single nacho chip on the plate?”

  She eyed the chip. “You don’t want it?”

  “I’m good.”

  She reached for the chip, but as she lifted it toward her mouth, a jalapeno fell off and landed on his thigh. She dropped the chip again and snagged a napkin. “I’m so sorry,” she said, removing the errant pepper and dabbing at the leg of his khakis with the napkin.

  The touch of her hand on his leg triggered an immediate reaction. His heart jolted, his blood heated and every muscle in his body tensed.

  She must have felt the strain in the muscle of his thigh, because she snatched her hand away, and when her gaze lifted to his, he saw that her cheeks were pink. That brief touch, combined with her undeniable response, suggested to Clay that the attraction he’d been battling for the past several weeks might not be as one-sided as he’d believed. And when Antonia started to draw back, he caught her hand and pulled her closer instead.

  Her eyes widened, and he heard her breath catch in her throat, but she didn’t protest when he leaned in and touched his mouth to hers. In fact, she kissed him back, her soft, sweet lips responding willingly to his.

  He released her hand, his fingertips trailing up her arm, over the curve of her shoulder to disappear in the tumble of curls that spilled down her back. Her hair was as soft and fragrant as he remembered, and his fingers sifted through the silken strands, tilting her head back so that he could deepen the kiss. He felt the shudder of breath between her lips as they parted and then her tongue met his, somehow tentative and eager at the same time.

  She tasted of the nachos she’d eaten—salty and spicy—and of passion, and he wanted to gobble her right up. He’d watched her for weeks, and he’d wanted her for nearly as long, but he’d never imagined that this might actually happen. It was only a kiss, and yet, he sensed it could be a prelude to so much more.

  He hadn’t expected such a response, or so much passion. He hadn’t expected anything because he hadn’t planned to kiss her at all. But then she’d touched him, and the heat that shot through his veins had obliterated all thought and reason. He’d only been aware of how much he wanted her, and the way she was kissing him back, he was pretty sure the attraction was mutual.

  It was as if they were the only two people in the room, each conscious only of the other, aware only of desire for the other. He was wondering if there was any chance of getting Antonia out of that sexy dress when he heard his brother’s voice—a stark and startling reminder that he and Antonia were not alone.

  * * *

  “I’ll have to ask Jason what the cook put in those nachos.”

  Antonia jolted as if she’d been shocked by a cattle prod, not just pulling away from Clay but jumping to her feet when she heard Forrest speak.

  She couldn’t believe what she’d done. She’d actually been making out with Clay—and in a public place. Not just kissing him like there was no tomorrow, but wishing that those kisses could lead to a lot more.

  She didn’t want to look at Forrest. She didn’t want to see the smug satisfaction on his face that she could hear in his voice. But she knew that she should be grateful not just for the interruption but that he’d been the one to interrupt. Because as embarrassed as she was right now, she was fairly confident that Clay’s brother wasn’t one of the gears churning in the well-oiled gossip mill of Thunder Canyon.

  “I didn’t mean to interrupt,” Forrest continued. “And I’m happy to disappear again, I just thought you might need a reminder that there are no longer rooms to rent in this part of the establishment.”

  Her cheeks burned even hotter. “There’s no need for you to go anywhere,” she assured him, unable to even look at his brother, unwilling to let Clay see how completely shaken she’d been by the kiss they’d shared. “Because I need to be going.”

  “Why?” Clay demanded.

  “I’m suddenly not feeling well,” she told him, and reassured herself that it wasn’t really a lie.

  Because she wasn’t feeling well—she was feeling hot and tingly and more aroused than she’d ever been before. And that was definitely not good for a woman in her condition with no possibility of alleviating the desperate, aching need that coursed through her veins.

  “Then I’ll take you back to the ranch,” Clay said.

  She shook her head. “I have my truck.”

  “But if you’re not feeling well—”

  “I’m well enough to drive myself home,” she insisted.

  “You do look a little flushed,” Forrest noted.

  There was a glint of amusement in his gaze and a note of teasing in his tone, and she could only imagine how entertaining it was for him to find his
brother in a lip-lock with their hugely pregnant landlady.

  And while she was still having trouble wrapping her head around the fact that Clay had kissed her, there was no denying that she’d kissed him back. Not just responding to the touch of his lips but practically throwing herself at him. She might as well wear a sign around her neck that read Desperately Horny Woman Craves a Man’s Touch.

  Okay, so she wasn’t desperate enough to want any man’s hands on her body, but her out-of-control hormones clearly wanted her to get naked with Clay and there was no way that was going to happen.

  She forced herself to meet Forrest’s gaze, conscious of the burning in her cheeks. “I just need some fresh air.”

  “Are you sure?” Clay was beside her now, looking and sounding genuinely concerned.

  “I’m sure.” She stepped away, before he could touch her and send fireworks rocketing through her system all over again. “But thank you both again for inviting me tonight.”

  “It was our pleasure,” Forrest said, then winked. “Although I’m guessing it was Clayton’s pleasure more than mine.”

  She couldn’t look at Clay, but she did, out of the corner of her eye, catch a glimpse of the elbow he shot into his brother’s ribs.

  “Well, thank you,” she said again, and fled before she died of embarrassment in Jason Traub’s newly renovated salon.

  Chapter Nine

  Why had he kissed her?

  Why had she kissed him back?

  And why the hell had she run out on him just when things were getting interesting?

  Clay wanted answers to these questions and more that swirled through his mind, and the only way to get those answers was to go after Antonia. He started to take a step forward, intending to do just that. But he suspected that his desire to follow her wasn’t just about getting answers but also wanting to finish what they started, and it was the desperation of the wanting that forced him back into his seat.

 

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