“You could get Maddie to do a surprise wedding for you like she did for Scarlett and Ruby.”
“Yeah, that would go over big. Laken would run in the other direction so fast my head would spin.” Michael heaved a sigh. “I don’t know what else I can do. I’ve tried to have faith enough for both of us, but…” He looked up. “How’d you convince Penny?”
“Caught her at a weak moment after she helped me deliver Maddie’s fourth unexpectedly. Don’t think you can count on that angle. Unless Laken goes gooey over puppies or colts or something.”
“Yeah, not quite the same,” Michael mourned.
“But I do have some good news to share.”
“What? And if you tell me Penny’s pregnant again, I don’t want to hear it.”
“Not yet,” Bridger grinned. “We’re back to practicing for a while, at least until the big man here gets out of diapers. Penny’s a terrific mom, much to her surprise, but I’m not pressing my luck.”
“So what’s the good news?”
“Molly’s coming, at last. Finished her residency and a fellowship, and now she’s as certified as can be. She had very attractive offers from existing practices both in Chicago and San Francisco plus a hospital in Dallas, but in the end, Sweetgrass did its magic. She decided to throw her lot in with Jake and me and set up her practice here, along with being part-time at a hospital in Austin. She said the baby boom in Sweetgrass would keep her busy enough until she could expand it to the surrounding area, and she’s looking forward to being with family.” Bridger shook his head. “I never thought I’d see my kid sister again, all those years ago. I’ll never forget how it felt to see them taken away after that SOB who fathered us killed our mom.” JJ was toddling off pretty fast, so Bridger picked him up and held him close, brushing over his child’s hair with one big hand. “This guy and his siblings are never going to know the fear that filled our house.” His jaw flexed. “I’d die before I’d harm a hair on their heads.”
“Of course you would. You were just a kid yourself, Bridger.” Michael clapped him on the shoulder, aware that he’d led a charmed life in comparison. He shouldn’t be feeling bad now.
Laken would marry him someday, surely. “I’m glad about Molly. That’s real good news for everyone here. How soon does she arrive?”
“Next week. I can’t wait.”
“I’ll tell Laken. We don’t have an OB yet—we’ll be first on her appointment list when she’s ready.”
“We’re working hard to get the equipment she wants to have. Doc Jake has great connections in Austin, and I’m a good scrounger. We can’t run much longer without some help, though. A real receptionist would be amazing. Jake takes crappy messages, and I’m gone half the time as fire chief. We need to get our act together.”
“Sweetgrass is really lucky to have you both, and Molly will be a great addition.”
“Thanks. And hey, if I can do anything to help you with Laken…”
“If I had the first clue, I’d sure tell you.”
It was Bridger’s turn to clap Michael on the shoulder. “Sorry, man.”
“Michael!” Laken’s voice from behind him, urgent.
He whirled and took off as soon as he spotted her. “Are you okay? What’s wrong?”
She halted, looking confused. “I’m an idiot is the only thing that’s wrong. Michael—” She clutched his shoulders, then kissed him hard. “Michael, don’t give up on me. Please don’t give up on me.”
“What?” He wrapped her in his arms. “What is it? What’s happened?”
She looked into his eyes very seriously as tears brimmed. “Will you marry me at the community Christmas celebration?”
“What? But that’s in just—”
“Three weeks,” she finished for him. “I know. It’s insane. But Jeanette will make my dress, and she says Spike has drawn up cake plans and Brenda has flower ideas and—” She caught sight of Bridger, who was gathering up JJ and trying to tiptoe off. “Bridger, will you barbecue for us?”
Bridger met Michael’s gaze and grinned really big. “I would be delighted.”
“Thank you,” she said, then rose to her toes and kissed Michael again. “I’m sorry I’ve been so scared. I just don’t want to mess up. I don’t want to wreck your life or this baby’s and I’m just so scared I will, but…you really love me, Michael. You really do, don’t you, even though it makes no sense?”
He had no idea what was going through her brain, but then he seldom had. “It makes perfect sense to me. You’re very lovable, Laken.”
“I’m not. I know I’m not. I’m cranky and bitchy and hard to get along with and—”
“And sweet and kind and too honest for your own good—and blind to how great you are. To say nothing—” He stroked her cheek. “Of being so sexy I wish I could just lock us away for about a year together.”
“I’ll be fat soon. I won’t be sexy.”
“You’ll always be sexy to me, Laken. When you’re a hundred and three, I’ll still be chasing you around the house.”
“Promise?” Her eyes shimmered with tears.
“Cross my heart and hope to die.” He followed suit with one finger.
“Don’t say die. You can’t ever die, Michael. Not ever.”
He cradled her face in his hands. “Not for a really long time, Laken. And you can’t either. But we’ll just focus on today and love each other every second, okay? And when this baby comes, we’ll have even more love in our home. We’re going to have so much love in our lives, Laken.”
“You’re too good for me. You could do better, you know.” She rose to her toes and cupped his jaws. “But don’t you dare. You have not seen how mean I can be if any woman ever—”
Michael wanted to laugh but he didn’t dare. Anyway, he felt like crying at the same time. “Laken, love. My only love. I’ll never get over you. I’ll love you to my last breath.”
She bit her lip and more tears fell. “I’ll do better. I promise I will. I’ll be so good and sweet and easy you won’t know what hit you.”
“And then I’ll be sad because some Stepford Laken took over the wild and unpredictable woman I love so much.” He touched his forehead to hers. “Don’t change, Laken. You’re just right for me, exactly as you are.”
She threw her arms around his neck and clung to him.
He wrapped her so tightly in his arms he wondered if she could breathe.
After endless moments, they put a few inches between them and he met her gaze again. “Christmas, really?”
“I’m insane, aren’t I? We’ll never get everything done.”
“You’re my kind of crazy, and yes, we will. But we’d better get started. Bridger, tell Laken your good news—”
He looked up but Bridger was nowhere to be found.
“What news?”
“It’ll keep.” He swept her up in his arms and headed for his pickup. “But this won’t. We’re sealing this promise the best kind of way, right now this instant.”
“Here? In Bridger’s barn?”
“Bridger won’t mind.”
“Michael, we can’t—” His Laken, the saucy daredevil who’d try anything, sounded scandalized.
“Oh, all right, be stuffy, Stepford Laken. But you’re not getting away from me now.” He tossed her over his shoulder, and she squealed.
“Michael!”
He kept walking and focused on getting his woman home where he could have his way with her.
Or she could have her way with him.
Either was a win.
Chapter Six
No one in the Sweetgrass headquarters of Enigma dressed up, but Steph had today because—
She wasn’t sure, exactly. Couldn’t explain it even to herself. Some attempt, she supposed, to regain control of her life. To return to the footing she’d once thought natural.
But all she had to do was walk outside on the town square to know she wasn’t in Kansas anymore, Toto. Actually she probably was in someplace as provincial as Kan
sas—but she was the witch with the flying monkeys, dropped down into the land of cowboys and barbecue.
“You all right, darlin’?” asked a very familiar voice.
No. No freaking way. Wyatt’s crew wasn’t supposed to start work for Jackson until—
Crap. Today was Tuesday. She was shaking her head as she turned.
And there he stood, Gavin O’Neill in the flesh. Looking far too delicious for her peace of mind in dusty jeans and beat-up work boots, a t-shirt that molded his fine upper body too well and…oh, man…a tool belt slung at his hips.
No fair.
“What?” he asked. But he was grinning as if he could read her thoughts.
Blast the man, he probably could. “Don’t you have work to do?”
“And don’t you make a picture?” he asked. “All slick and sleek and shiny.”
Her spine went ramrod stiff. “I’m dressed for work.”
His brows rose. “Jackson Gallagher has on a t-shirt and jeans.”
“Jackson owns the company.”
“You own your own portion. Does that make you a rich woman, darlin’? In need of a gigolo, perhaps?” He grinned as he opened his arms wide. “You could have both, your own personal man of all work and a love slave to boot. What do you say, sugar?” His eyes glowed with mischief.
She burst out laughing. “You’re ridiculous. Go back to work.”
“It’s time for lunch. Would you prefer to have me escort you to Ruby’s, or shall we have a picnic at the spring?”
“I don’t eat lunch.” Or she hadn’t before she came to Sweetgrass, where Ruby and Scarlett fed her so well she was in danger of needing to let out seams.
“A pity.” He clucked his tongue. “You need some meat on your bones, my mama would say.”
“Do you actually have a mom?”
“I do, and she adores me the way you will soon.” He took her elbow and began to escort her to Ruby’s.
Steph tried to dig in her heels, but the man was ox-strong. “No. I’d rather not—” She wasn’t up for the questions she’d get if they were seen together. Sweetgrass had a gossip mill that worked overtime.
“Fine, then. You can share my lunch.”
“You’ll need your strength. I—”
“Well, I have to admit I like the sound of that.” His eyebrows waggled. One hand spread over his heart, and he patted it. “That gives a man a reason to live.”
“You are such a jerk.” But she laughed as she said it. “I’ll grab something from Spike’s cantina. You go on.”
“Oh, no. I’d find myself eating alone, and that won’t do. Not when a much more tantalizing option has presented itself.”
He followed her into the cantina Jackson had established for his employees. The place was open 24/7, since his geeks worked all hours, and when it wasn’t staffed, Spike kept plenty of food in the coolers.
When they entered, Spike and Big D were arguing over which Marvel superhero was best.
“Oh come on, now,” Big D complained. “Cap is just too white-bread. Give me some Black Widow any day.”
Spike rolled her eyes. “Of course you’d like the black catsuit.”
“You think Thor’s long hair is hot. He’s only an over-muscled egomaniac.”
“You’re just jealous.”
“Superbrain here,” he said, tapping his temple. “Brains beat brawn.”
“And it’s her…brains you admire? Not the boobs?”
“Oh come on—don’t be a sexist. Nat is wicked smart. I’d think you’d like how kickass she is.”
Steph went to the cooler and grabbed an apple and some yogurt. She turned back to get Spike to put it on her tab.
Gavin was buying two enormous cookies.
“I don’t eat desserts,” she said.
“Oh, you thought these were for you?” Gavin grinned. He turned to Spike. “Best add two more for my lady friend.”
Spike’s eyebrows neared her hairline, and she and Big D exchanged glances.
“I’m not his lady friend. We’re not even friends.”
“That’s harsh, darlin’. Especially after that last kiss.”
He turned and walked out whistling, leaving Steph spluttering an explanation. “We aren’t—it wasn’t—”
Spike and Big D were smiling and nodding. “Sure thing,” Big D responded.
“Whatever, you ho,” Spike said affectionately. “He’s not only hot but super-nice, Steph.”
“I’m not—”
Gavin opened the door. “Grab us two waters, will you, sugar?”
“I—” Steph subsided, knowing he’d only keep making things worse if she didn’t join him soon, and the two before her already had their minds made up. “Give me two waters,” she snapped.
“Here you go…sugar,” Big D chuckled.
“You can be fired,” she said darkly.
“I can’t,” Spike piped up.
Muttering, Steph stalked to the door, then paused. “Personally, I’m Team Nick.”
“Nick Fury isn’t a superhero—” Big D protested.
“Of course he is,” Spike argued. “He’s the mastermind behind all the Avengers.”
“You might as well call Agent Colson—”
Steph smiled to herself and left them arguing. At least they were off the topic of Gavin and herself.
She really wanted to give him a piece of her mind, but she was learning that the man was incorrigible. He wouldn’t argue, he’d simply steamroll over her to get whatever he was set on having.
He picked up a heavy teak chair from the outdoor seating as though it were made of plastic. “I don’t have a blanket, and I’m guessing you don’t want to get your lady clothes dirty, sitting on the grass.” He glanced down. “Don’t your feet hurt in those skyscrapers?”
These were her favorite Jimmy Choos, broken in just right. “I wear heels a lot. I’m used to it.”
“I don’t see how.” He set the chair beneath a huge old oak bordering the spring from which the town took its name. He seated her, then settled cross-legged at her feet, taking off his flannel shirt and spreading their picnic on it. Every movement made a different set of muscles flex beneath the form-fitting t-shirt. Good grief, the man made her mouth water.
She jerked her gaze away from the display before she could start drooling.
“Here—” He pressed a giant cookie into her hand. “Start with this. Maybe it will sweeten your disposition.”
“What? You have some nerve—”
She faltered as he removed one shoe and set her foot on his thigh.
He began kneading with his thumb, stroking with his fingers, until she wanted to slide down in the chair, eyes rolling back in her head. “Oh, my…that’s…” Lethal. Because not only did it feel incredibly good, but he also seemed to find a direct connection to other parts of her. Her nipples rose, and her body…yearned.
The hand with the cookie fell to her lap.
Gavin nipped it away before it could do any damage to her skirt. She saw him break off one bite with his fingers and put it in her mouth, then grab a second bite for himself before setting it aside to let his fingers continue their magic.
“Spike has a way with a dessert, doesn’t she?”
“Unh…” Steph managed.
His soft chuckle slid over nerve endings already tingling from his touch.
“You can stop that in about a week or so…”
Another husky, sexy sound from his throat.
He electrified her, exasperated her, challenged her, made her smile…
Reel it back in, Steph. You can’t afford to get involved.
A part of her mourned as most of her acknowledged the wisdom. She made herself sit up, removing that foot from his hand.
“Ready for the other?” he rumbled.
She opened her eyes and saw that he knew exactly what he was doing.
“Why?” she asked him softly. “Do you even like me?”
His bravado faded. “More than I should.” Blue eyes met her ow
n green ones.
“Gavin, there’s no future for us.”
“Maybe not, but can you honestly tell me you’re not enjoying the present?” He removed her other shoe and began kneading.
She tried to pull back her foot, but he resisted. “Don’t be foolish, darlin’. Your poor foot has suffered enough from your vanity.”
And there he was again, the insufferable know-it-all. She crossed her arms over her midriff. “Fine. Service me, then—” She clamped her lips shut. What on earth had she just—
Gavin laughed, the rich, full rumble of a man who knew how to laugh, who enjoyed life, who understood joy. “Well, now, darlin’, this foot massage may not quite meet that definition, but in a more private place, I say game on.”
Mourning the loss already, she jerked her second foot from his grasp. “I hate you.”
“If only you could.” His grin was quick and unrepentant. “I have a lot to do and animals who won’t like me being late to feed them before I come to fix your windows tonight. So settle down now, and let’s eat.”
“Settle—” She shrieked. “And you’re not coming to fix my windows or repair my faucet or—”
“Faucet’s fixed already, remember?” He shoved the cookie back in her mouth and began opening his own food, eyes sparkling as he watched her.
“You are so—”
“I know. That’s what you like best about me.”
There was no winning with this stubborn ox. It was a dilemma in which she’d never found herself before, unable to find a way to keep the upper hand.
“Oh, give me my yogurt and don’t talk to me,” she snapped.
Gavin only smiled angelically, then rose to his knees and kissed her before she could react. She fell into the kiss, even as she knew better.
It wasn’t until he sat back after placing her yogurt in her hand that she could take a deep breath.
The next day Steph approached the coffee shop where she, Ellie, Ava and Laken’s prospective mother-in-law Sophia were meeting to plan a shower for Laken.
Ava was already there, typing furiously on her laptop. Steph did not understand how Ava could block out all the noise and dive into her fictional world, but Ava assured her that she had a tougher time when everything was really quiet.
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