by Mindy Neff
From across the room, Nikki was waving her arm like a baton twirler in a parade.
“Abandoning me already?”
Ian giggled. “Yep.”
“Okay. Go play. But not under the tablecloths,” he admonished, remembering the near fiasco at the church get-together.
Ian hesitated. “You be okay?”
“I’ll be okay.” God, his heart muscles were getting a workout.
The boy skipped off, leaving Wyatt alone in the middle of a crowd, his jealous gaze once more drawn to the dance floor. A brunette he didn’t recognize walked past him, blocking his view, and glanced back over her shoulder in a look that nearly shouted she was available.
Wyatt wasn’t interested.
Moody, brooding, he went to the bar and ordered a beer.
Lloyd spoke, but Wyatt ignored him. He didn’t trust himself to be civil right now. And that annoyed him. He was never rude to his friends.
Nursing the beer, he watched Ethan pass Hannah off to his brother, Clay. A survey of the room told him the other Callahan brother, Grant, was waiting in the wings with very little patience and a whole lot of intent.
For crying out loud. You’d think these cowboys had never seen a woman before. And for that matter, he thought as he continued his perusal of the room before his gaze was drawn back, again, to Hannah, there were considerably more women here tonight than usual.
Unfamiliar women.
He swiveled on the bar stool, not surprised to see Ozzie, Vern and Henry had joined Lloyd behind the bar and that all four old men were studying him like a steer in a 4-H project.
“What?” he snapped.
Ozzie’s vivid-blue eyes twinkled even as his steely gray brows winged up. “Just thought maybe you’d want to thank us.”
Wyatt’s temper, normally very controlled, flashed like a whip, singeing the air around him. The scalding emotion took him by surprise.
Their ads were responsible for the female population explosion in the town.
They were responsible for Hannah and her cute kid and that sweet baby girl that kicked and tumbled in her stomach being here.
People didn’t just spring a potential wife on a man without warning. Especially a man who didn’t want a wife. It put him in the awful position of causing hurt to that woman. Or the equally impossible position of trying to find her a suitable man to treat her right. Like she needed to be treated. Like she deserved to be treated.
Much better than anything he had to give, that he was capable of giving.
He passed a hand down his face, looked at the four men. “Why did you meddle? How can you play with people’s lives this way?”
“Now, Wyatt—”
“Didn’t it ever occur to you all that I’m alone for a reason? That I’m perfectly happy this way?”
“If you’re so happy, how come you’re snarling like a coyote over a carcass?”
“Because I’ve protected myself from pain these past four years and now you’ve slit me wide-open for it.” He pushed off the stool and headed for the food table. He hadn’t meant to impart that much information. The vulnerability would only encourage the old goats—sadistic souls that they were.
Grant Callahan was now twirling Hannah across the floor, flirting and charming, having snatched her right out from under his brother, Clay’s hold.
Wyatt probably ought to put a stop to it. She was pregnant, for crying out loud. She needed a rest.
He nearly started in that direction, then realized that if he took her in his arms, just the two of them, body to body, he might lose the tenuous control he held himself under.
He filled a plate with food and sat down at Stony Stratton’s table. Carlotta—Lottie to her friends—and her husband Ray sat with them. Lottie was Stony’s housekeeper and took care of Nikki when Stony was out working his magic on Montana’s finest horses—and some that weren’t so fine.
“Stratton,” Wyatt acknowledged. “Lottie and Ray. How are you?”
“Oh, we’re just wonderful,” Lottie said with a tinkling laugh that made her sound like a girl of twenty instead of sixty. “And Nikki’s in heaven having a playmate. That little Ian is a delight.”
Just then, the children raced up, Ian climbing right up on Wyatt’s lap as though he were a handy obstacle course.
Wyatt steadied his plate. “Whoa there, little buddy.” His silky hair stuck to his sweaty forehead. “Why don’t you slow down and have something to eat?”
Ian snatched a carrot off Wyatt’s plate and crunched, his tiny, square white teeth oozing orange as he giggled. “I’m a rabbit.”
“Best not mention rabbits around your mama. She’s pretty sore at those creatures right now.”
“How come?”
“They ate her garden.”
“Bad.”
“Yep. Pretty bad.” He held out his burger and Ian took a healthy bite, dripping ketchup down his chin. Wyatt caught the sauce with a napkin.
“Want a bite?” Ian cribbed a carrot off Wyatt’s plate and held it out to Nikki. “We could be bad rabbits and not tell mama.”
Nikki seemed to think that was a grand idea, and Ian, obviously operating on some sort of kid signal, scrambled down from Wyatt’s lap and joined the little girl in a hopping spree, their hands at their heads like floppy ears.
The scar on the side of Stony’s face creased as he smiled at the kids’ antics. “Those two’ll never settle down tonight.”
“Probably not,” Wyatt agreed absently, his heart suddenly ramming against his ribs as Hannah came up to their table, her porcelain cheeks flushed, her misty-green eyes gleaming. Happiness radiated from her like the brightest star in the sky.
Jealousy slammed into him as he wondered which man had put that glow there.
Clay Callahan had snagged the brunette with the come-and-get-me eyes, and Grant was on the dance floor, plastered against a tall willow of a woman in a tight pair of jeans.
Ethan Callahan was right behind Hannah, his hand resting at her shoulder. The look she tossed the playboy set Wyatt’s blood to sizzle.
He stood, grabbed a chair and pulled it up next to his. “Sit.” With very little finesse and quite a lot of possessiveness, he tugged her down beside him.
Ethan and Stony both raised their brows. Wyatt ignored them.
“I can’t remember when I’ve danced so much,” Hannah said, her voice breathless and joyful. She picked up Wyatt’s soda and took a drink. The intimacy of that action captivated him for the space of two heartbeats.
“You should have a care for you condition.” He edged his plate toward her, and in case she didn’t get the message, he held out his burger and urged her to take a bite. It was turning into a community burger. He, Ian, and now Hannah had all eaten off it.
“Oh, Lloyd does make the best cheeseburgers.” She tried to catch a drip of mayonnaise with the back of her hand, but Wyatt’s thumb was already there, taking care of it himself.
Arrested, her green eyes fastened on to his. Their knees pressed beneath the table and the room became pleasantly hazy, shrinking in to shroud them in an intimacy that excluded the rest of the occupants of the table.
Slowly, Wyatt raised his thumb to his mouth. Licked.
Hannah drew in a breath. She’d been hot from the exertion of dancing. Now she was burning from the incendiary look of this sexy cowboy.
“Well,” she said at last, her mind wiped clean of witty words. “Um, thank you.”
“My pleasure.”
Her brows raised in a silent question. Was this a game? He looked as confused as she felt and glanced away.
So did Hannah—and met Ethan Callahan’s knowing look. On the dance floor she’d taken the playboy cowboy’s measure, realized he had a marshmallow heart, an unbending sense of honor and loyalty and a sharp antenna when it came to his friends. During the short span of a dance, he’d coaxed her into spilling her guts—she was still a little surprised that he’d accomplished that feat. But she was extremely glad that he had.
Because Ethan Callahan, Shotgun Ridge’s wealthiest, most eligible cowboy bachelor, had agreed to become her ally. It would be his extreme pleasure, he’d told her, to embark on a mission to help Hannah have her heart’s desire.
Wyatt Malone.
“Whoa,” Stony said, starting to rise. “Bunnies running amuck by the desserts.”
“Bunnies?” Hannah asked, confused, upset all over again at the reminder of what rabbits had done to her garden.
“Now you’ve done it,” Wyatt said to Stony. “We weren’t supposed to say that word. I’ll get the kids.”
He rose and strode across the room, his stride purposeful and loose-hipped. Snaking an arm around each child, he scooped them into his arms and shuffled onto the dance floor, smoothly stepping around the floor with both giggling children’s spindly arms wrapped around his neck, nearly knocking his hat off his head.
Hannah smiled and sighed. There was nothing more masculine than a man who enjoyed children.
“Well, Miss Lottie,” Ray said to his wife. “Care to take a turn around the floor with an old man?”
“Don’t mind if I do.” They moved to the dance floor, took Nikki from Wyatt and danced with her between them.
Wyatt looked across the room, his gaze colliding with Hannah’s. The sight of him holding her son, enjoying him, raised a lump in her throat.
He held out his arm in an arc, a silent invitation for her to join their circle. A family circle.
“Go, California,” Ethan said. “Fill him up before he realizes he’s fighting a losing battle.”
She barely heard Ethan’s words. Her feet moved across the floor as though silent wings carried her.
Wyatt’s arm closed around her, drew her in.
“We danced like rab—people,” Ian finished on a giggle.
“I see,” Hannah said, closing her arm around her son, her hand coming to rest on Wyatt’s wide shoulder.
He was still gazing at her with another of those exclusive looks that made her sizzle, made the room close in on just the two of them.
The four of them, she amended when Ian fussed with her hair and the baby in her womb shifted and tumbled.
Iris Brewer broke the spell when she came up and held her arms out to Ian.
“Mind if I cut in with this handsome young man?”
They passed Ian into her arms and she danced away with him, Ian’s delighted giggle following in their wake.
“He’s so happy,” Hannah said.
“As he should be. He’s four.”
Her smile was soft, a little sad around the edges. “He hasn’t always been this way.”
“He’s stuttering less.”
“I know.”
Wyatt drew her closer, inhaling her citrus scent. “I’ve wanted to get you in my arms all night.”
She looked up at him with those misty-green eyes, and without an ounce of guile said, “I know.”
That admission, that he was so transparent, should have annoyed him. Instead, it heated his blood. She fit him like a glove. “I’m not doing my duty.”
“To heck with your duty, Wyatt. Shut up and dance with me.”
His smile was slow and delighted, his body aroused. “Yes ma’am.” He took her through a series of smooth intricate steps that she followed like a practiced partner, as though she were one with him.
He pressed his cheek against her temple, turned slightly and brushed his lips against her hair, a butterfly caress that she wouldn’t feel. Her hair smelled of lemons, her skin was so warm, her hand soft where it rested in his. He longed to tip her chin up, press his lips to that incredible mouth, feel those plump lips mold to his, the shy hesitation before they’d open.
He realized his heart was knocking brutally against his ribs, and his body was rock-hard. The music ended much sooner than he was ready. He didn’t want to let her go.
They stood there in the middle of the dance floor, people having to move around them like a herd splitting for a downed calf.
Hannah cleared her throat. “Well. We’d best sit down. Cool off a bit.”
He tipped his head, his hat shading the light that danced over her skin. With his hand at her waist, he guided her back to their table.
Ian and Nikki were a sight with chocolate ringing their mouths. Hannah automatically reached for a napkin and swiped.
“The children play so well together,” Lottie said. “Why don’t you let us take Ian home for a sleep-over?”
“Yeah!” Ian and Nikki chimed together.
“Oh, I don’t know. He doesn’t have pajamas. Extra clothes.”
“That’s no problem. I’ll just wash up what he’s got on and it’ll be fine for church tomorrow. You all are coming to services aren’t you?”
“Yes, but—”
“Then it’s settled,” Lottie said.
Hannah knew she was outnumbered. And it would be wonderful for Ian. He’d never been to a sleep-over before. She looked at Stony, made one last attempt. “Are you sure it’s all right?”
The big, quiet man nodded. “We’d be happy to have him.”
She looked at Wyatt. He nodded and she acquiesced.
They ate their dessert and the band came back from their break, strumming a familiar ballad.
Lottie, Ray and Stony stood and gathered the kids. “Best get the young ones home,” Stony said in the quiet, soothing voice that made him famous because of its uncanny effect on horses. “Say good night to your mom, Ian.”
Ian hopped around the table and kissed Hannah and gave her a fierce hug, then treated Wyatt to the same before racing off after Nikki.
Ethan laid down his fork. “What do you say, California? The kids are gone. It’s just us consenting adults. We gonna let this slow, kissing and munching tune go to waste?”
“No,” Wyatt answered for her. “We’re not. So go find your own woman to nibble on.”
He pulled Hannah to her feet and had her in his arms and on the dance floor all in one swoop.
Her head spun. Over Wyatt’s wide shoulder, she saw Ethan wink and had to bite her lip to keep from grinning.
“I’m not used to this jealous side of you.”
He glanced down at her, his eyes burning. “You should probably be quiet for a minute.”
“Why?”
“Because I need a minute to concentrate. Otherwise I’m going to kiss you in a way that’ll set the town to talking for a good long time—and make you forget all about Ethan Callahan.”
She smiled softly, cupped her hand around his neck. “Consider him forgotten.”
He made a growling sound in the back of his throat. “Hannah, I’m trying to remember my good intentions here.”
“I’m not interested in your good intentions right now. Like Ethan said, we’re consenting adults.” She’d never in her life said anything so bold as she was about to say. She leaned back, looked directly into Wyatt Malone’s eyes.
“I want you.”
Chapter Twelve
The ride home was thick with a silence that was anything but comfortable. Hannah had a good half hour to vividly imagine every scenario possible that involved herself and Wyatt.
They would make love. If they didn’t—if he changed his mind, found his good intentions between town and home—she would die.
She didn’t know if it was baby hormones or what that made her so sensitive to him. Just sitting in the cab of the truck, smelling his masculine scent, staring at his broad shoulders, his hat brushing the headliner of the truck, his capable hands handling the vehicle with skill and ease made her ache.
His features were tight, yet every time he looked at her his eyes burned, held a promise, however reluctant.
He wanted her, but he didn’t want to.
Hannah desperately wanted to push him—had pushed him—and that impetuous boldness still stunned. But something deep inside told her intimacy would tell one way or the other. It would bring them together or tear them apart.
The second option frightened her, nearly made her lose her
nerve. But desire and optimism drove her on.
Chinook met them at the back door, tail wagging. It seemed strange without Ian there. The hushed expectancy hung heavy in the air, in every breath they took.
A light over the stove glowed softly.
He still wore his hat—as he had all night. She rarely saw him without the buff-colored Stetson. It was as much a part of him as the shirt that stretched across his broad shoulders and jeans that gloved his muscular thighs.
Nerves gripped her as the intensity of his gaze never wavered from her face. Should she make the first move? Hadn’t she already done that? Seduction was new to her. She’d never considered herself good at it.
But Wyatt Malone made her feel like a woman.
When the sexual tension in the room became thick enough to cut and he still hadn’t made a move to close the distance between them, Hannah’s courage faltered a bit.
“Wyatt?”
“My mind tells me this isn’t a good idea. My body’s saying otherwise.”
And your heart? She didn’t ask the question. “My body’s in agreement with yours.”
“This wasn’t what we’d agreed on.”
Which time? She’d come here believing this was exactly what they’d agreed on. But since he hadn’t been the one to place that ad, that changed the rules.
She shook her head, her voice soft. “I’m a big girl, Wyatt, and I can make my own decisions. I don’t need or want you to find me a husband. I’m attracted to you, and…I’m fairly certain you’re attracted to me.”
“You know I am.”
“Then what’s the problem?”
“I can’t give you the promises you need. And that’s not fair.”
“I’m not asking for promises or fair right now, Wyatt. I just want you to put out the fire.” She kept astonishing herself with the words that tumbled out of her mouth. “We agreed I’d stay until my sister got back—for the month. We have time.” More than he knew, but she kept that to herself.
The emotions welling in her were almost too much to bear.
“Be sure.” His voice was deep and soft, raw with desire and barely checked control. “If I touch you, if I kiss you, I’m not going to want to stop.”
She licked her lips. Took a step. “I don’t want you to stop.”