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Deep in a Texan's Heart

Page 17

by Sara Orwig


  “Sam, is my life going to be just one big surprise after another? What are you doing now?”

  “Hold out your hand, darlin’,” he said. When she did, he placed a tiny package in her hand. It was blue tissue paper tied with a pink silk ribbon.

  “What on earth, Sam?” She was curious because if it had been jewelry, she would have expected a box, but it was too tiny for anything else. She untied the bow and pushed open the tissue paper to find a ring with dazzling diamonds surrounding an emerald-cut stone. He picked it up to hold it out to her.

  “This is the tiniest token of what I feel for you. It represents my love and my commitment to you and to our family together. It’s forever, Lila. I love you with all my being.”

  “Sam, that is the sweetest thing,” she said, getting a knot in her throat and feeling tears of joy forming. “I love you so much. I tried to avoid you and I just never could. From that first night, you captured my heart.”

  He drew her to him to kiss her. She closed her fist over the ring and put her arm around his neck to return his kiss, wanting him again and loving him more than she would have thought possible.

  After a long kiss, she looked up. “Now I have something for you—some news that will give you something else to shout about,” she said, smiling at him.

  “What’s that?” he asked. “I don’t think anything could possibly be as important as the fact that we’re in love, we’re getting married and we’re having a baby.”

  “Oh, yes, there is something, Sam. You talked me into seeing a doctor in Royal, but you never asked me about my appointment.”

  Sam’s smile faded away. “I never saw you that week. You’re all right, aren’t you?” he asked.

  “I’m quite all right. You were partially correct when you said that we’re in love and we’re getting married. But we’re not having a baby, exactly.”

  Sam frowned. “Lila,” he said in a threatening voice. “How can you not have a baby exactly?”

  Laughing, she gazed up at him. “Sam, we’re having two babies—twin girls.”

  He blinked and stared at her a moment and then he stepped back and jumped in the air, throwing up his arms while he let out a yell loud enough to make her put her hands over her ears while she laughed. “Wahoo!” he yelled again. “If you weren’t pregnant, I’d pick you up and spin you around with me.”

  “Don’t you dare,” she said, laughing at him as she spoke.

  “Twin girls. Lila, that’s the most fantastic news. I have to call Josh right now and tell him.”

  “Come here, Sam, and don’t be ridiculous. He’s still at the party at the club.”

  “I don’t care where he is. You’ve told your dad that you’re pregnant, so I think I need to call and ask him for your hand in marriage.”

  “Now, there’s my old-fashioned lover popping out finally,” she said.

  “Oh, yes. You also have an old-fashioned dad—I believe you’ve informed me of that a few dozen times. I’m definitely calling him to ask for your hand in marriage. I should have before I proposed, but I’m not so traditional about everything. I’d go see him first, but I think I’d better place a call. I’ll just have him paged at the party.”

  “Paged? Sam, this will be all over Royal by the time you get off the phone.”

  He grinned, hugging her. “Yes, it will, darlin’. I can’t wait for everyone to know. Twins. Ahh, Lila, I love you so. It’s going to be wonderful, darlin’.”

  “I think so, too,” she said, smiling at him. He kissed her again and then took her hand.

  “Let’s go to the kitchen and I’ll get that hot chocolate. Then I’ll make my calls. I can put the phone on speaker if you’d like to hear what’s said.”

  Smiling, she shook her head. “Thanks, I’ll pass on that one. This is a man-to-man thing in both cases. I may be glad I’ll fly out of here Monday.”

  As she sat in Sam’s kitchen and sipped hot chocolate, she listened to him call her dad on his cell phone and ask for permission to marry her. Thinking Sam’s call was ridiculous but sweet, she smiled at him. Finally, Sam ended his call.

  “He is overjoyed and I’m guessing enormously relieved to find that we are getting married. Now I’m going to page Josh and tell him. This will shake up his world a bit.”

  “Not too much. They’re your twins, not his.”

  She listened as Sam had his brother paged and she covered her face. If she didn’t go to church tomorrow, she wouldn’t see anyone except her family before she flew to California and when she came back again, she and Sam would be old news.

  “Josh, Sam. Yeah, I’m okay,” he said. “Keep your shirt on. You can go back to the party in a few minutes. I have news.” There was a pause before he continued. “It can’t wait until tomorrow. I asked Lila to marry me and she said yes.”

  She guessed Josh said congratulations and was probably still scratching his head over why Sam couldn’t wait until tomorrow to tell him.

  “I want you to be best man when we marry.” She smiled again at Sam, because he was probably already planning their wedding.

  “Yeah, there’s something else. You’re going to be an uncle.”

  She heard another loud yell, surprising her because Josh had always seemed more serious and controlled than Sam. Words poured out, but she couldn’t understand what Josh was saying. “That’s right, twin girls. Yeah, we’ll celebrate.”

  Lila listened to one side of the conversation a few more minutes and then Sam finished his call. “He’s excited. So is your dad.”

  “I’m surprised at two bachelors being so thrilled over becoming a dad and an uncle. Especially two bachelors who fought the child-care center.”

  “That was a whole different thing, and maybe Josh and I are ready for some family in our lives. I know I am,” he said, leaning close to kiss her lightly. “Next time, sugar, I want to be the first to know—after you, of course. I forgot I wasn’t supposed to call you sugar, but you know it’s because I love you.”

  “You can call me whatever you want,” she said, smiling at him and then looking at her ring. “This is a gorgeous ring. I love it.”

  “And I love you. I can’t tell you enough.” He moved his chair and reached out to pick her up and place her on his lap. “This is so good, Lila. You’ve made me happy beyond my wildest dreams. I’m the happiest man on earth. Two little girls. Our twin daughters. We’ll be doubly blessed.”

  “I think so. I’m overjoyed and you’re not so old-fashioned after all, I guess. Since it’s twins, I might even think about cutting back a little on my work. Working at home or something while they’re babies. The doctor told me to think about maternity leave, too, before I have them.”

  “Good. Lila, love, not in my wildest dreams did I expect this. It’s the most awesome thing to happen to me.”

  He wrapped her in his arms and pulled her close to kiss her. She held him tightly, knowing he was the love of her life, now and always. With Sam, her future would be filled with joy and love and a precious family.

  * * * * *

  TEXAS CATTLEMAN’S CLUB:

  THE MISSING MOGUL

  Don’t miss a single story!

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  Deep in a Texan’s Heart by Sara Orwig

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  Keep reading for an excerpt from The Baby Deal by Kat Cantrell

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  One

  Juliana Cane hadn’t spoken to Michael Shaylen in eight years, not since the day she’d realized that if she was going to lose him, she’d rather do it on her terms.

  And today, when she opened her front door to the man who’d once taken her to heights never experienced before or since, her brain deserted her. She’d practiced a highly appropriate “hello” and a lovely “nice to see you,” both suitable greetings for an ex-boyfriend who calls with no warning.

  But obviously his brief and to-the-point “I need to talk to you” had knocked her upside down, and she hadn’t reoriented yet because all she managed was “You’re not on crutches.”

  Like the last time she’d seen him. A broken leg did take less than eight years to heal.

  “Day’s not over.”

  A familiar, cloud-parting smile broke open across his stubbly jaw, its effect a forceful punch to a feminine place long forgotten.

  Unbelievable. After all this time, both her brain and her body still reacted to him without her permission.

  “How are you?” he asked. “It’s Dr. Cane now, right?”

  “Yes.” She was a psychologist and thus well equipped to handle this unexpected visit, if the bongo drum in her chest would lay off. “But only my clients call me that. You didn’t mention on the phone if you’d be staying long. Do you have time to come in?”

  “Sure.” He shot a glance toward the long, sleek car idling at the curb.

  “Is someone in the car? Everyone is welcome.” Even a size-zero supermodel with photo-worthy hair and fourteen thousand dollars’ worth of dental work. His usual type, if the media could be believed. “I don’t want you to feel awkward about this visit, Michael.”

  His name stuck in her throat. She’d never called him Michael.

  His lips curved into a half grin. “Then stop first-naming me. I’m still Shay.”

  Shay. His mega-watt personality engulfed the porch, too big to be reined in by skin. That chiseled physique honed by hours of brutally challenging sports hadn’t changed. A new scar stood out in sharp relief on his biceps, a long slash interlaced with crosshatches.

  Stiches. Messy stitches, which meant he must have been sewn up by a third-world doctor after a zip-line accident in Off-The-Map City. Probably without anesthetic or antibiotics.

  Still the same Shay.

  She stepped back, refusing to dwell on scars—visible or otherwise—and nearly tripped over the Persian runner in the foyer. “Come in, please.”

  With another glance at the idling car, cryptic with its rental tags and tinted windows, he followed her into the house. Where to put him? In the living room or the less formal family room? She decided on formality, at least until she got her feet under her and her brain functional.

  How could Shay still wreak such havoc on her senses after eight years?

  Maybe because he was still gorgeous and untamed and… She didn’t like that kind of man anymore, despite certain feminine parts trying to insist otherwise.

  She ushered him into the living room and gestured to the plush navy couch. It was supposed to be big enough for two people but Shay’s six-foot frame dwarfed it. As he settled onto a cushion, she worried for a fanciful second that the metal webbing beneath the fabric would collapse under the weight of so much man.

  Eric was six feet tall. The couch had never seemed small when her ex-husband sat on it. She opted for the armless Queen Anne chair at a right angle to the couch and didn’t allow a speck of self-analysis about why she hadn’t sat next to Shay.

  “I’m sorry about Grant and Donna,” she said right away. The deaths of his friends and business partners was no doubt fresh on his mind. “How was the funeral?”

  “Long.” Grief welled inside his sea-glass-green eyes.

  She could still see clear through them, straight into the wrenching agony of having to bury his best friends. Her primal, unchecked reaction to his emotions was frighteningly unchanged as well—a strong urge to soothe, to heal. To hold on to him until the pain fled.

  Instead of reaching for him, she clasped her fingers together in a tight weave. They were virtually strangers now, no matter how abnormal it seemed. No matter how convinced she’d been that time would surely have dimmed the shimmering, irrational dynamic between them.

  It hadn’t. But she’d pretend it had.

  Once, she’d been so drawn to his lust for life, to his powerful personality and his passion for everything—especially her—that he’d engulfed her, until she couldn’t see the surface anymore. It was too much. He was too much.

  She’d never been enough for him.

  So why was he here? Instead of jumping right into it, she went with a safer subject. “Tell me about the funeral.”

  “We did both services together. Better that way, to get it all over with. Closed casket. It was easier. I didn’t have to see them.”

  “Of course,” she murmured. It wasn’t like they’d had a choice.

  Grant and Donna Greene had died in the explosion of an experimental ship designed for space tourism. News stations had continually replayed the clip, but Juliana couldn’t imagine the couple being inside the craft when it blew. It was too ghastly. Instead, she remembered Shay’s friends the way she’d last seen them eight years ago—standing on a bungee platform, sun beating down on the four of them as they waited to plunge into the unknown.

  One by one, they’d jumped. First Shay, because he never failed to be first in line for whatever new thrill he’d conceived. Then Grant jumped, then Donna. They’d all jumped.

  Except Juliana.

  She couldn’t—couldn’t even peer over the edge. She’d just backed away with a wordless shake of her head, too overcome to speak. Too overwhelmed by the slippery darkness encroaching on her consciousness.

  Shay was fearless. She wasn’t. They didn’t make sense together, and she’d known he’d eventually realize that, eventually grow bored with her at best, or resentful at worst.

  She’d just realized the truth first.

  She shook her head now and focused on the breathtaking mountains dominating the view through the floor-to-ceiling glass opposite her chair. She’d moved on, moved to New Mexico from Dallas for a reason. That hadn’t been her place, in a relationship with a man who thrived on the indefinite, with whom she couldn’t imagine a future. Or children. Or a normal marriage.

  In New Mexico, she could find her balance in structure and order, the opposite of what her home life had been while growing up, the opposite of what she’d had with Shay. She could build a safe life firmly planted on the ground.

  It just wasn’t happening quite like she’d planned.

  “How are you coping?” she asked. Her Dr. Cane voice betrayed nothing of the sharp and vivid memories fighting for her attention
.

  Eric disliked her Dr. Cane voice, disliked it when she answered all his questions with questions. Shay didn’t seem at all bothered that she’d retreated behind her degree.

  “Taking it day by day right now.” Shay coughed and stared at the ceiling for a long time. “Greene, Greene and Shaylen has some good people running the show and that’ll continue until I figure out some things.”

  “I’m so sorry, Shay. Let me get you a drink.”

  “First I have to tell you why I’m here. The will…” He cleared his throat. “Grant and Donna had a son. You probably heard. Their will named me as the guardian.”

  Her lungs contracted. That poor, motherless baby had been shuttled around with little regard, no doubt, for the potential trauma. Instinctively, she cupped her own barren womb and swallowed. “The news did mention a baby, but I assumed he went to relatives.”

  “I am a relative,” Shay shot back. “Not by blood, but Grant was my brother in every way.”

  Juliana blinked at the fierceness clamping his mouth into a hard line. “Yes, I didn’t mean anything by the term.”

  Shay backhanded a dark caramel-shot thatch of hair off his forehead. Almost every day of the two years they’d been together, he’d worn a baseball cap to keep that wavy mane out of his face. Had he traded the cap for something else or was he always bareheaded now?

  “Sorry,” he said. “It’s been a hellacious couple of weeks. I’ll get to the point. I’m a dad now. I owe Grant’s kid the best shot at that I can give him. But I can’t do it by myself. I need your help.”

  “My help? I haven’t seen Grant and Donna since college.”

  Even then, they’d been part of Shay’s world, not hers. The three were always together, poring over some complicated schematic. Muttering about accelerants and a myriad of other baffling rocket science terms. Three of the best minds in a generation hashing out improbable solutions for the optimal way to get off the ground. Always in a hurry to leave the earth—and Juliana—behind.

 

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