She took a few napkins from the tray and did a better job of cleaning up his mess, never missing a beat. “Help yourself, boys. Whatever you don’t eat is going to the crew at Penny’s Song.”
Clay grabbed two cookies and the lemonade. Callie handed him a napkin. Tagg took one cookie for himself. Both of them thanked her.
She leaned on the edge of the desk and looked from him to Clay. “So what is Callie doing?” She hadn’t forgotten the conversation she’d overheard.
Tagg took a bite of the cookie. “These are good.” He chewed and chewed, keeping his mouth full. Let Clay get out of this one.
Callie lifted her brows, waiting.
Clay cleared his throat. “Tagg was telling me you’re starting to show, uh, the baby is, I mean.”
Clay slid a quick glance at her stomach and Callie grinned. “I know. It’s a little bump, but it’s all baby.”
“I can’t see the bump.”
“It’s there,” Tagg assured him. “But you don’t get a closer look.”
Clay sent him an eye roll.
Callie added, “And, thankfully, the morning sickness is all gone.”
“Well, that’s great news.” He finished his cookie and downed it with a gulp of lemonade. “Because I’m throwing a little party at the end of the week. For the crew and all the volunteers who helped out and especially for my family. It’s my way of thanking everyone before our official opening. That’s why I’m here. To give you a personal invite.”
“That’s a wonderful idea,” Callie said. “Do you need any help with party planning?”
“I might, if you’re up to it. Can I get back to you on that?”
“Sure, Clay. Anything you need.” Callie offered him another cookie.
“It’s black tie.”
Tagg croaked out, “Black tie?” That physically pained him.
“Yeah, it means putting on your monkey suit.” Clay winked at Callie.
“You’d think Jackson was putting this shindig on.” Tagg scowled at his brother. “Actually, it was his idea.”
Tagg worked for the next few days putting together another proposal for a big beef conglomerate. He made plans to go to a cattle auction up Flagstaff way in three weeks and he called several of his regular clients. He wasn’t used to having to schmooze to stay in business. It wasn’t in his nature to make small talk and he was terrible at it. The conversations were stilted and brief and he hated every minute of it.
He set his phone down after his third and final call for the morning and stacked his file folders, making one neat pile. A swatch of fabric caught his eye, peeking out from under a financial report lying on the desk. Tagg moved the other papers away and picked up the soft piece of cotton. He held smiling monkeys, silly elephants and friendly lions in his hand. Stubby green-leafed trees and bamboo shoots filled the background of the material in soft tones. It looked like a happy scene from a Disney jungle movie. Tagg glanced down and found the paint chip that had been sitting underneath the fabric. He picked it up with his other hand. Green Earth had a sticky note attached on the back in Callie’s handwriting and he read it out loud. “Great for a boy, don’t you think?”
They were having a boy? Tagg felt a moment of excitement, but then he remembered that it was too soon to tell. Callie had said as much. They had an appointment with the doctor in a few weeks. Tagg still couldn’t believe it. He was going to be a father. He’d never thought he’d be given another chance at happiness. He’d never thought he’d grant himself enough inner peace to let someone else get close enough. For years, he didn’t think he deserved it. Had Callie changed that? Could it be possible that Hawkins Sullivan’s daughter would be the one person who could see him through his grief and guilt?
He glanced at the evidence in his hands. A smile emerged. He wondered what Callie would pick out if they had a baby girl. Flying magical horses in pinks and purples?
He heard the distant sound of Callie’s voice from outside and put down the items. He walked over to the side window and peered out. A horse trailer had pulled up and Callie was raising her voice above a palomino’s whinnies.
Tagg plopped his hat on his head and marched outside, striding up to the bumper pull trailer, watching from the sidelines. He knew enough to steer clear of a skittish horse. Callie on the other hand, put herself right in the mix. “You need some help?”
She cast him a sideways glance and shook her head. “No. Freedom doesn’t like the trailer is all. She’s a bit high-strung.” The golden horse backed out with Callie’s soft urging. “Come on, girl. This is your new home now. Yeah, that’s it. I sure did miss you.”
Callie held a rope and eased the palomino out of the double hitch trailer. Once she was free of the drop down, Tagg glanced inside. “She did her best to destroy the kick walls.”
“She does that.” Callie held her rope tight and stroked the palomino’s face. The horse lifted her head in rebellion. “It’s all right, Free. Calm it down a little. No more bumper pulls for you.”
“Does your father know you took her?”
She grinned. “Not yet. I made sure he wasn’t home when I got her. I’ll call and let him know later on.”
“She’s a beauty.”
Callie smiled. “Thank you.”
“I forgot she was coming today.”
“I mentioned it last night.”
Tagg vaguely remembered. He closed the gap between them and stroked the mare’s mane carefully. He spoke into her ear. “You expect me to remember anything after last night? You drove every brain cell outta my head. I barely know my own name.”
Callie shot a quick glance at the driver, who’d walked away to check the truck’s engine. She sent her voice into a whisper. “Are you complaining?”
She knew he wasn’t. Sex with Callie just kept getting better and better. “I’m no fool. I know a good thing when I see it.”
She took her eyes off Freedom to take a leisurely tour of his body. She liked him in jeans and boots and made no bones about it. Her brow arched up in approval and she sent him a wicked look that shot straight to his groin. “So do I,” she said quietly.
He could lead her back into the bedroom and…
“I’m taking Free out today,” she announced, changing the direction his mind had taken. “Let her see your land. Get used the scent of the other horses.”
“Sounds like a good idea.”
“She’s not going to like sharing the paddock with your mares. She’s pretty feisty.”
“I can see that.”
“But underneath it all, she’s a sweetheart.”
Tagg wondered if the same were true of her. “When are you going for that ride?”
“After lunch.”
“You want some company?”
Callie stared at him. “You want to ride out together?” A familiar look of yearning crossed her features.
He nodded. “Sure, why not?”
He knew why Callie seemed surprised. He’d never invited her before, even though he’d seen longing in her eyes and her plea for acceptance on his ranch. He’d kept his afternoon rides private so he could be alone with his own thoughts. But it was also a way to drive some distance between them. To keep her from getting too close and maybe to punish her for her past mistakes. He hated to admit that, but it was solid truth. He’d had to marry her and accept her into his home because of the baby. He’d also had to tolerate her ruthless, immoral father.
“Because you’ve never asked me before. Why now?”
He stared at the little bulge at her waistband and felt a sense of pride, but also a fierce sense of protectiveness. Callie was an expert horsewoman, but her mare was jittery. After seeing those knocked-in kick walls, Tagg didn’t want Callie riding out on his land alone with her horse. He worried over his baby’s safety, that was a given. But it surprised him how much of his concern was aimed at his new wife.
He shrugged. “It’d be best if I went with you, is all.”
“You’re on, cowboy.” Callie opened h
er mouth to say something else but seemed to change her mind.
And the she sent him a big, beautiful smile that spread warmth through his cold and distant heart.
Nine
“Your wife cleans up nicely,” Jackson said, sipping wine from a cut crystal glass. He gestured to Callie, who was speaking with two crewman from Penny’s Song under a tree wrapped with hundreds of twinkle lights on Clay’s veranda.
Tagg glared at his brother.
“What? Just stating the obvious.”
“Keep your eyes in your head.”
Jackson smiled wide before taking another sip of thirty-dollar-a-glass Pinot Noir. “Just appreciating the best-looking woman in the place.”
Tagg had to agree. He couldn’t take his eyes off her, even though he’d seen her in the most intimate settings, touched every part of her body countless times and made her moan his name until the breath stole out of her lungs. Tagg still couldn’t look away.
She wore her dark hair in an intricate pile atop her head with a few well-placed strands curling along her crown and down around her neck. Rhinestones gathered her deep crimson gown just under her breasts and flowed in soft pleats all the way down to her sandal-clad ankles. Her eyes were liquid caramel tonight under those sparking lights, her skin, the smoothest cream. When Tagg first laid eyes on her as she came gliding out of his bedroom dressed to kill, he’d dropped the magazine he’d been reading in the parlor. He’d never seen Callie look more beautiful. If he’d compared her to a Grecian goddess, the goddess would lose out every time.
Clay walked up and stood beside them. He followed the line of their attention. “She looks happy tonight, Tagg.”
“For the moment,” Jackson added.
Tagg blinked and sucked in a breath. His brothers wouldn’t let up. Since they found out about the baby, they’d been painting a rosy picture about his marriage. Tagg resented it. He needed more time. The feelings he had for Callie scared the living hell out of him. He had niggling doubts that held him back. He wasn’t all-in yet and he didn’t know if he ever would be. “Why wouldn’t she be happy?”
Clay scratched his head. Jackson polished off his wine. They both stared at Tagg with raised eyebrows.
He grabbed a wine goblet from a passing waiter and downed it in one long gulp. He knew why Callie wasn’t happy with him, but how did Jackson know? Had Callie said something or was his brother just being a pain?
Their one and only horseback ride hadn’t gone well. Freedom had been jumpy and Tagg had raised his voice several times at Callie. They’d argued about horse tactics and command and Callie ended up riding off in a different direction. Tagg had only been worried about her safety. And the baby’s. Still, things had been tense between them since that ride.
Clay was speaking, and his voice pulled Tagg back into the conversation. “You got yourself a good wife. Don’t blow it.” Clay, usually the diplomat, shot him a cautionary look.
Crap, had Callie said something to both of them?
“You know, you’re not all that,” Jackson, his smart-ass brother added.
“I never claimed to be.” He tightened his grip on the empty wine glass and cursed under his breath more from watching one of those workmen take Callie onto the dance floor than from his brothers’ lame attempts to make him feel guilty. The minute the guy pulled her up close, Tagg’s gut clenched.
“You’re a little green, Tagg. Maybe it was the shrimp.”
Jackson was getting on his nerves.
“No comment?”
He shrugged it off. He wasn’t going to let his brother get the best of him.
“Maybe you should dance with your wife. Or maybe I will.” Jackson made a move toward the imported parquet dance floor on the deck. Tagg blocked his passage with an iron arm. “Don’t be an ass.”
Jackson’s usual smirk disappeared. His eyes darkened with concern. “I’m trying to keep you from being one. You’re either stupid or scared. I know our gene pool. You’re not stupid, Tagg. You’re gonna lose her if you don’t lighten up.”
Tagg shot him a look. “What did she tell you?”
“Is there something to tell?” Jackson asked. “If there is, maybe you should be talking it over with her.”
Neither Jackson nor Clay knew about his relationship with Callie. He couldn’t explain it to them because, one, it was none of their business and, two, he couldn’t really define it himself.
When the three-piece orchestra took a break, Clay took center stage. He’d outdone himself with this party. Not only had he invited family, workmen and volunteers, he’d invited the mayor and sheriff of Red Ridge, members of the city council and other townsfolk. Tagg’s brother had been a star once, so he knew how to command an audience. But this event tonight wasn’t about him or his onetime celebrity status, it was about giving thanks to the many who’d contributed their time and energy to the project.
Clay called the rest of the Worth family up to the stage to join him, where a crowd had gathered.
Tagg searched the area for Callie. He saw her slip into the background, standing behind one of those twinkle trees, sipping sparkling cider. He strode over to her. “Callie?” He offered her his hand. “You coming?”
Her gaze fell on his open palm, and she hesitated.
“We’re being summoned.”
“Tagg,” he heard Clay say over the mike. “Get your pretty wife and come up here. Can’t start without the two of you.”
She darted a glimpse at Clay waiting for them, then with a tiny sigh, she nodded. She slipped her hand in Tagg’s and he gripped her tight. He led her to the steps to stand beside Jackson, who grinned at her like a fool, and Clay, who gave them both a nod before he began his speech.
Tagg held her hand as Clay spoke to the group, giving thanks to everyone who’d taken Penny’s Song to heart and singling out people who’d helped along the way. Clay had given him and Jackson credit for their part in the project, when, in fact, his two brothers had put the facility together without much help from him. Clay took a moment to welcome Callie officially to the family and commend her hard work and generosity, giving Callie a kiss on the cheek, which garnered a round of applause.
Callie found it necessary to let go of Tagg’s hand when the speech was over to applaud along with the group.
“You haven’t danced with me once,” he said finally, after leading her back to the cottonwood tree. His words came out sharper than he intended. He’d meant to sound nonchalant.
She faced him, finally meeting his eyes. “You haven’t asked me.”
He curled a strand of silken hair around his finger, his gaze lingering. “You’ve been busy.”
“Clay asked me to be his hostess.”
“Clay should get his own wife.”
A tiny chuckle escaped her throat. “You’re not jealous.”
It wasn’t a question but a statement of fact. Callie didn’t know how jealous he was of every man who’d danced with her, every man who’d paid her attention, every man who’d been granted her smile tonight.
He brought her up close, wrapping his arms around her waist, holding her tight, his mouth just a breath away from hers. She smelled exotic, a rich blend of sexy and citrus. He inhaled deeper and his groin tightened. He’d gone without Callie too long. He wanted her. He wouldn’t let her freeze him out. Her eyes sparked with defiance, but they held excitement as well. She’d never been able to resist him. He found that trait endearing. She wasn’t all that angry with him anymore. “I’m jealous,” he admitted.
Callie closed her eyes. “Tagg. This isn’t a game.”
He brushed a tender kiss to her lips. “I never thought so, Callie. Not for a minute.”
Callie wasn’t a quitter. As a child she’d never given up when she wanted something bad enough. Not the spelling bee championship when she was nine, not the Junior Miss Equestrian Pageant when she was fourteen and not the children who’d seemed lost and hopeless when she’d worked at the With Care Foundation in Boston. She’d stood up to her for
midable father time after time and held her head high, making something of her life that she could be proud of, despite her DNA.
And she wasn’t quitting on Tagg now. She’d just needed a breather…
The old cottonwood tree held her upright as she watched her husband speaking with the mayor. Jackson had pulled him into the conversation and she could tell he wasn’t thrilled to be there. Their eyes met from across the yard several times as he tried to focus on what Mayor Fielding was saying.
Tagg was deadly handsome in his Western tux, with dark strands of hair brushing the collar of his black jacket. His skin was bronzed from hours under the Arizona sun. She loved the way he moved, the confident strut of a man comfortable in his own skin. She loved the deep husky tone of his voice. There wasn’t much she didn’t love about Taggart Worth. Except the way he held her at arm’s length. No, she didn’t love that at all. He gave her just enough to make her wish for it all.
It had been exhausting trying to be a good wife when he gave little back in return. She was like a fountain that kept pouring out without any source of replenishment. His subtle and not so subtle emotional jabs were getting to her. She was made of thicker skin, she knew. She was, after all, a Sullivan by birth. But her changing hormones got in the way and made her feel weepy and filled with self-doubt. She’d had bouts of tears these past few days that she couldn’t talk herself out of or seem to control.
It all had to do with Tagg.
There were times during the week when she thought marrying him had been a mistake. That maybe loving him wasn’t enough. Sometimes, he’d open up to her, giving her a teensy inkling of hope, then he’d say something to wipe it all away. She felt like a nail being pounded further and further down. And her only recourse had been to sink inside herself, like a turtle hiding out in his shell. She’d needed the protection and the solace.
Carrying the Rancher's Heir Page 14