The Cowboy SEAL's Jingle Bell Baby

by Laura Marie Altom

  “Bring them in a size ten,” Rowdy said.

  “A ten?” Tiffany’s eyes stung. “I wear a six.”

  “Correction.” He patted her huge baby bump. “You used to wear a six. But for now, let’s just try a ten, okay? Besides, it’s not like anyone except me will even know the size.”

  “I guess you have a point. But still, they’d be way too fancy for work.”

  “Since when is Tiffany Lawson, rodeo queen, afraid of being fancy?”

  “You have another point...” She couldn’t help but smile.

  The salesman returned.

  She nibbled her pinkie while waiting for him to take the sparkling creations from a white satin drawstring case. The new-shoe smell served as the best possible aphrodisiac.

  “Let me...” Rowdy left his chair, holding out his hand for the shoe.

  “Of course.” The salesman handed it over.

  Grinning, Rowdy said, “This moment has Prince Charming written all over it, don’t you think?” Kneeling, he’d clasped her foot, but not in a clinical trying-on-shoes way. More like a territorial stroking-her-sole-with-his-thumb kind of way, making her dangerously close to having a drag-him-into-the-nearest-janitor’s-closet-for-a-make-out-session impulse. He finally slid on the left shoe and it must have been an early Christmas miracle, because it fit. “How’s that feel?”

  “Good.” Ridiculously good. But she wasn’t just talking about the shoe’s cozy fit. She had to hand it to him, the man was skilled with his hands. “Put on the other.”

  He did.

  Had it been possible for feet to sing, hers would have.

  The power of her mani-pedi and new shoes was an intoxicating thing. In that moment, she remembered what it was like to have fun. She remembered how to laugh. Most important, remembered how good it felt to share her laughter with Rowdy.

  “Well?” he prompted. “The whole time I’ve known you, you’ve never been this quiet.”

  “I love them.” She leaned forward, wrapping her arms around his neck for a hug. I love you, her heart sang. But she didn’t. Not really. She was clearly still high from nail-polish fumes. Toss in new-shoe leather and that special something that was all Rowdy and she was lost. Rendered incapable of snark. Head bowed, she said, “Seriously, I know this must sound silly, but something about new shoes makes everything better. It wouldn’t surprise me if we left the mall to find the sun shining and birds chirping in a balmy eighty degrees.”

  He laughed. “If that’s true, I think the state would issue a new tax to keep your new-shoe fund afloat. Hell, you might single-handedly transform North Dakota into the next Florida.” His words might be teasing, but the sultry heat stemming from his secure hold couldn’t be more real.

  She backed away before her body grew any more at home in his arms.

  The salesman returned. “How did they work?”

  “Like a charm,” Rowdy said. “Let’s take two more pairs. Black and that funky green.”

  “Rowdy, no. That’s too much.”

  “Welcome to life with me, darlin’. My wicked plan is to spoil you rotten.”

  As much as Tiffany liked the sound of that, she couldn’t let down her guard. She couldn’t trust that Rowdy’s charm didn’t come with a price far higher than shoes. It was no secret he didn’t want to go through with the adoption. She had to make him understand that neither did she—not really. Not in the deep-down, quiet moments of her heart. But she was backed into a corner and nothing about her once carefully structured adoption plan now felt right. The only thing currently making sense was profusely thanking Rowdy, then accepting his proffered hand.

  With the shoes purchased and bagged, strolling through the bustling mall with her naked palm pressed to his made it easy to envision him always being in her life. She could far too easily picture them this time next year, when they’d try holding hands but it would be too awkward while pushing a stroller and gathering up their dozens of Christmas packages. She’d have a thriving real estate business and he’d—That’s where the dream died.

  What would Rowdy do for work if he gave up his job as a SEAL? Would he join his father and brother on their family ranch? Would he use the money he’d saved to start his own cattle ranch?

  Bing Crosby crooned “Silent Night” over the mall’s sound system. The song, the nagging questions, sobered her mood.

  If Rowdy did take an early retirement from the navy, how long would it be until dissatisfaction with his new line of work turned to resentment for her and their son? After that, it would be only a hop, skip and jump to their inevitable divorce.

  Tiffany had to face facts. No matter how delectable this very moment might be, once she surrendered her heart, all roads eventually led to her emotional ruin.

  “Why so glum?” he asked. “Don’t tell me your new-shoe glow already wore off?”

  She forced a smile. “Not at all. I was actually thinking about how nice this is. Being with you. Taking in all the decorations.” Hormonal tears wet her cheeks.

  “Hey...” He dropped her hand so he could dry them with his thumbs. The shoe bag dangling from his wrist bumped the baby, causing them both to grin. “If we’re having such a nice time, what’s with the waterworks?”

  I’m afraid you’re going to leave me.

  Even worse, she was terrified it wasn’t her he wanted but their baby. Like some girls wanted to get married only for their fancy wedding, maybe holiday cheer had him enamored with the Norman Rockwell ideal of having a family?

  “Tiff?”

  “I’m good.” She sniffed. “Let’s get something to eat. My treat—meaning, corn dogs.”

  He laughed. “No offense, but there’s a surprisingly good steak place just past the next fountain. Then we need to find new duds to go with your shoes.”

  “You’ve already done too much.”

  “Baby...” There they were, once again standing face-to-face in the throng. Her heart beat at an alarming rate. Only this time, her galloping pulse had little to do with their son and everything to do with the baby’s father. She instinctively leaned closer, raising her chin.

  Are you ever going to kiss me?

  Chapter Eleven

  Damn.

  Through what had felt like an endless meal, Rowdy struggled to focus on his steak rather than Tiffany’s mouth. Her perfect mouth, with full, kissable lips...

  Candlelight wasn’t helping his frustration.

  Neither was the dark paneling or wandering classical guitarist.

  All of it set a mood that was essentially a lie.

  A glance in Tiffany’s direction showed her to be oblivious to the restaurant’s romantic vibe. She happily munched her steak, chatting about whether slacks or a dress would look best with her shoes.

  “I’m thinking slacks. A nice flat is always a cute pairing, don’t you think?”

  “Huh?”

  “Haven’t you heard a word I’ve said?”

  “Sure.” He’d heard lots of words. He just didn’t much care about any of them. “Are you going to eat your bread?”

  “No. Go for it.”

  He did. And when she changed the topic to the option of blouses or sweaters, he’d had just about all any reasonable man could take of discussing fashion.

  “You ever think about it?” he blurted.

  “What?”

  “The night we...” he pointed toward the baby “...you know.”

  “Oh...” Her cheeks reddened. “Well, sure, but I try not to. It was a mistake. All of it. I never should have gone to that bar, and I sure shouldn’t have gotten that motel room with you.”

  “Why not? Are you saying it wasn’t a good time?”

  She refused to meet his gaze.

  “I’ll take your silence as an admission that you enjoyed it as much as
I did but you’re too stubborn to admit it.”

  She shook an obscene amount of steak sauce onto her meat.

  “In fact, if we were to end up back in a motel room, alone, with nothing better to do than take advantage of each other, I’ll bet you’d do it all over again.”

  “Never.”

  “Wanna bet?”

  “No—but only because I don’t have the cash to blow on something so frivolous.”

  “Then you’re admitting you’d lose?”

  “Not at all. I’m just saying it’s a dumb bet.”

  He eased back in his chair and smiled. “You’d be all over me, and you know it.”

  She sighed. “If you’re done, can we please get back to shopping? The mall’s probably closing at nine and it’s already seven.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” He signaled the waiter for the check, then took the last few bites of his meat.

  Ten minutes later, they were back to fighting holiday shoppers. “Jingle Bells” blared over the sound system and no fewer than six kids were pitching screaming fits over wanting to see Santa.

  He found a map of the mall’s layout and located the only maternity store.

  When they finally made their way there, the long walk was worth it, judging by the size of Tiffany’s smile.

  “Just look at all of this. I found my other maternity stuff at thrift stores, but the sizes were always off. How exciting is it to get to try on something new?”

  “Sorry,” he said while she sorted through a rack of holiday-themed sequined sweaters.

  “About what? You’re beyond sweet for bringing me here. Really, I can’t thank you enough.”

  “I wish I had been here with you from the start—sharing everything. Your first doctor visits and buying maternity clothes and baby gear. Painting his nursery and assembling his crib.”

  “But why would you have done all of that when he’s not even ours?”

  “He’ll always be ours, which is another reason why this whole adoption thing is unnerving. I can’t wrap my head around how it would feel this time next year without him.”

  “What about me?” She covered her mouth. “I didn’t mean to say that out loud.”

  “It’s a legitimate question. And for the record—yes, I would miss you. You’re argumentative, sassy, sometimes don’t make any sense and infuriatingly stubborn. Despite all of that, Tiffany Lawson, you’re growing on me.”

  “Aw, thanks.” She elbowed him. “You had me at new shoes.”

  From where she summoned the energy to try on so many clothes, Rowdy would never know, but by the time they left the store, she’d found a coat and two outfits to match each pair of shoes. Most of it had been on sale, even though he’d told her he didn’t care about the price. In his experience, a lot of women would have taken him for all they could. He liked her even more for the fact that she didn’t try to take advantage of him.

  “Hope you remember where we came in?” she said as they paused to get their bearings alongside a giant candy cane.

  “We need to take a left by Santa’s workshop.”

  “That’s right. I remember thinking how much I’d like a candy cane.”

  “Want me to get you one?”

  “Would you?”

  He handed an “elf” a five-dollar bill for a handful. “Think this will be enough?”

  “You’re amazing. How can I ever thank you?”

  I can think of a few ways.

  “I mean, back when I had all the money in the world, I took shopping for granted. Now I realize what a big deal it is to look and feel my best, and...” Her eyes shone with tears. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.” He tried wrapping her in a hug, but it was tough with not only the baby but shopping bags between them. “You’re going to sell this new doctor a big house, and the commission will keep you afloat for months.”

  “From your lips to God’s ears.”

  They continued the hike to the car only to round the last corner and freeze.

  “Is that what I think it is?” Rowdy asked.

  “I knew snow was in the forecast, but the weatherman said nothing about a snowpocalypse.”

  Apparently, the entire time they’d been in the mall, Mother Nature had dumped white stuff. They’d already gotten a good two feet, and more thick flakes fell by the minute.

  “Wait here.” He parked Tiffany on a bench in the heated vestibule, then set the packages beside her. “I’m going to get the truck. Don’t leave this spot until you see me pull up outside, okay?”

  She nodded.

  Not wanting to haul his coat around the mall, he’d left it in the truck. Now Rowdy sorely missed it. Frigid air mixed with high winds meant his teeth were chattering only halfway to his destination. Holy hell, it was cold. He’d need to get the truck nice and toasty before bringing Tiffany outside.

  Plows worked the lot, but with so many cars it was a losing battle. They’d piled snow behind the smaller vehicles and now dozens were stuck.

  He reached his pickup and climbed behind the wheel to ram the key into the ignition, but instead of a satisfying roar, all he got was clicking.

  Great. His wonky starter was now officially busted.

  Over an hour from home.

  In the middle of a blizzard.

  He slammed the heel of his hand against the dash, then slipped on his coat before trudging back to the mall to deliver the news.

  But when he reached the vestibule? The exact bench from where he’d specifically told her not to move? She’d moved.

  Tiffany and all of her shopping bags were gone.

  * * *

  THE LINE FOR the bathroom was insane.

  At least fifteen women and little girls deep.

  The handles from her heavy bags were digging lines into her palms and her feet had started to swell.

  By the time she finished, washed her hands, then started the long walk back to where Rowdy had left her, each step felt like a hundred.

  Never had she been happier to see his scowling face approach. “Where the hell did you go? I told you not to move.”

  “You can’t tell a pregnant lady’s bladder not to move. I had to go—bad.” Relief shimmered through her when he took the bags.

  “Okay, well, you scared the hell out of me. I thought you’d been abducted.”

  “Right. Because so many stalkers have the hots for giant pregnant women.” She waddled to a seating area and collapsed into an armchair.

  “What’s wrong? You look pale.”

  “I’m exhausted but otherwise all right. Did you get the truck?” She couldn’t wait to get home, have a nice long soak in Pearl’s roomy claw-foot tub, then cuddle with Mr. Bojangles.

  “About that...”

  “You couldn’t find it? Were you in the wrong lot?”

  “Not exactly.”

  “Hurry up and tell me before I have to pee again.”

  He gave her the CliffsNotes version.

  “Let me get this straight. Even though you knew the starter was going out, you thought it was a great idea to take your truck on a road trip?” She took her phone from the small purse she wore slung across her chest. “I could call Jeb and Susie. He has a four-wheel drive. I’m sure they’d be happy to help.”

  “I have no doubt they would, but I’ve got everything handled. There’s a Holiday Inn across the street. I already made a reservation and called a towing company, but because of the snow, they’re pretty backed up.”

  “Did you get two rooms? Because I’m not sleeping with you.”

  “Yes, as a matter of fact, you are. They only had one room available, and it has a king-size bed.”

  “Rowdy Jones, if this is all some elaborate ruse to—”

  “Trust me, if I wanted
in your pants that bad, I’d already be there.” He winked.

  “Pig.”

  “Oink, oink.” He held out his hand to help her from the chair. “Come on. The hotel runs a mall shuttle every thirty minutes. I don’t want to miss it.”

  She tried getting up from the deep chair without his assistance, but her efforts proved to be an epic fail.

  He abandoned her shopping bags to plant his hands under her arms, hefting her up and out. “Damn, our son’s getting big.”

  “Thanks. Tell me something I don’t know.”

  They bickered back to the vestibule. While he helped her into her new red coat. During the short ride to the hotel. While waiting in line to get registered. Again in the elevator and all the way down the long corridor leading to their room.

  “Here we are...” He opened the door with a flourish. “Home, sweet home.”

  Even from the shadowy light rising from the brightly lit parking lot, she saw the room was a step up from the last one they’d shared.

  He reached around her to flip on an overhead light switch for the hall leading from the bathroom to the bed and sitting area.

  She veered to her left, allowing him to pass on her right, praying he wouldn’t brush against her—not because it didn’t feel good. But because it always managed to feel so right.

  Her attraction for him felt wrong on a zillion different levels. It distracted her from what was most important—caring for her mother and grandmother. Keeping them safe. If her grandmother lost her home...

  The mere thought was enough to cue hormonal tears.

  She ducked into the restroom and closed the door.

  “Tiff?” Rowdy’s voice was muffled. “Everything okay?”

  “Fine.” Only it wasn’t. Because she was trapped in a warm and cozy hotel room with a man who made her lose all rational thought. What she needed was to redirect her attention on to anything other than him. So she filled the tub with steaming water, squirting in the peach-scented body wash the hotel had provided.

  Once she’d stripped and then sunk up to her neck in delicious-smelling bubbles, for an instant, the hot water made her wholly content. Then she realized her baby bump rose from the suds like an island. And then her mind skipped to the stupid-handsome man who’d helped make her baby.