THE TEXAS WILDCATTER'S BABY (12 page)

“There’s no time for that. I have to find something to wear right now, that I won’t look ridiculous in.” Moisture flooded her green eyes. She dashed away her tears with her knuckles, before they could fall.

He tried to simultaneously problem-solve and tease her out of her dejected mood. “You could borrow a pair of my jeans, the same way you do my shirts. Because those probably would work, since they’re just sort of straight up and down.” He illustrated with his hands. “Instead of all nipped in or curvy.”

It had been a shot in the dark, born of sheer desperation.

Ginger’s eyes lit up.

She let out a low, delighted laugh and palmed the center of his chest. “Out of the mouths of the unenlightened,” she blurted.

Grabbing her phone, she quickly looked up the measurements on the pants she’d been wearing. He helped her convert them to men’s sizing.

An hour later they left the store. Ginger had half a dozen pairs of men’s jeans, a few men’s shirts and a couple new ladies’ vests—in a larger size, to accommodate her blossoming breasts—bundled together in a mercantile shopping bag.

She was wearing a new pair of men’s jeans, too. “Feel better now?” Rand asked, winding a protective arm around her waist.

Ginger leaned into him briefly, looking happier and more relaxed than he had seen her in days. “Much. I should have gone for the ‘Southwestern’ Annie Hall slash Katherine Hepburn style of dressing much earlier.”

He tucked her in closer to his side, predicting, “You’ll have people talking.”

“But it will be about why I’m suddenly electing to wear all men’s clothing.”

Her triumph was as much an aphrodisiac as her temper. In fact, everything about her got his engine running.

“And you’ll say...?”

She winked. “That I would have done it a whole lot sooner if I had only known how much more comfortable guy’s clothes were than gal’s.”

Rand grinned, glad she had solved her problem, and would be able to get through the next few weeks, or months, comfortably. Playfully he tweaked her nose. “So, back to the dinner you promised me...” His stomach was growling hungrily. As was hers.

She slanted him her usual feisty look. “We’re having pizza. And I’m paying.”

“Works for me.” Matter of fact, anytime he was with her, anywhere he was with her, worked for him.

They paused to lock her new clothes in his pickup, then walked down Main Street. They were nearly to Salvio’s Pizza Place when they saw Maria standing in front of the fire station, where her truck was parked. Conrad was standing next to her, and they were talking. It didn’t appear to be a particularly pleasant conversation.

“What do you think that’s about?” Rand asked.

Ginger looked pained. “I don’t know.”

His protective instincts kicked into high gear. “Want me to intervene?”

“No. Maria has three teenage sons, a husband who is not always known for his work ethic and a crew of roughnecks working for her. She can handle Conrad the same way she does all the rest.”

They watched as Maria shook her head firmly and walked past Conrad, who still seemed to be pleading his case, even after Maria got in behind the wheel.

“Well, whatever he wanted, he didn’t get it,” Ginger observed when Conrad got in his vehicle and drove away, too.

Rand let out a low sound of agreement. “At least he’s not still bothering you.”

Briefly, guilt flashed across Ginger’s face, but she recovered quickly as they continued down the street. Then she paused, presumably to look at the menu posted in the window. “Actually, Conrad is still texting and calling and emailing me, every day, telling me it’s not too late. I can still come back to Profitt Oil.”

Rand had assumed that had all stopped, and was dismayed to find it was still ongoing. Although he did understand why Profitt would be loathe to let Ginger slip out of his life. Rand felt the same way.

He leaned a shoulder against the glass. “What do you say to him?” he asked, curious.

Ginger made a noncommittal sound. “Nothing. I already answered him once, in person. There’s no reason to do so again. Eventually he’ll get the message.”

Rand hoped that was so.

Ginger rocked forward on the heels of her boots and studied him thoughtfully. “You’re not jealous, are you?”

He lifted his brow. “Should I be?”

Chapter Eleven

What did it mean if Rand was jealous? Ginger wondered, trying not to read too much into his droll retort. Especially if he wasn’t the kind of guy to ever get jealous?

“No, of course there is no reason for you to be even the tiniest bit jealous.” Although she knew she was playing with fire, feminine devilry made her pursue the issue. She narrowed her gaze. “Why on earth would you be, anyway?” It wasn’t as if her ex had anything on the incredible man in front of her. Rand was not only ruggedly sexy in that all-man-to-her-woman way. He was funny and charming to boot.

Still not looking all that concerned, he shrugged. “Because I don’t want my wife being pursued by another man.”

Admiring his confidence, she reiterated, “Well, you don’t have to worry about that. The only man I want is you.” Realizing belatedly how that sounded, she wrinkled her nose. She hadn’t meant to be so possessive, either. “You know what I mean,” she added hastily.

He met her gaze, the corners of his mouth barely turning up, and waited for her to continue.

Reluctantly she did. “I mean, we’re married. And hence, exclusive.”

“Anything else?” He studied her, his expression inscrutable.

Actually there was. But Ginger didn’t want to get into that now, didn’t want to open herself up to hurt. “Yes. I’m starving.” She let her glance fall discretely to her tummy, then stood on tiptoe to whisper into his ear, “And I’m pretty sure you-know-who is, too.”

As always, the mention of the baby they were having united them in a common cause.

“So what are we waiting for?” He brushed a kiss to her cheek, then, hand to her waist, ushered her inside the pizza restaurant. They settled in a cozy booth in the back, and placed their order.

As Ginger had expected, their dinner was delicious. And Rand was a charming dinner companion. They finished off the pizza and salad, then lingered over a huge slice of cheesecake, topped with fresh blueberries, strawberries and whipped cream.

Aware she’d eaten her half of the shared dessert, and maybe a little more, Ginger put a hand to her tummy and groaned. “I have a feeling I’m going to regret this.”

He chuckled. “You’ll be fine.”

He took out his wallet and put his card on the receipt tray. The waitress took off with it before Ginger could stop her.

She frowned at Rand. “Hey, I’m supposed to pay!”

He shook his head, as intent on being in charge as ever. “Really can’t let you do that...”

Why did he always have to be such a man?

“Then I’m just going to owe you.”

His eyes twinkled. He seemed more than ready for whatever she sent his way.

“That sounds fine.” He leaned over and kissed her slowly, lingeringly on the lips. “More than fine, actually.”

Ginger hadn’t meant to respond, but when he dipped his head and kissed her again, even more evocatively this time, she found herself kissing him back, just as sweetly.

When he finally moved away, a round of applause followed.

Ginger flushed at the reaction of their audience. Rand smiled even more wickedly, and then moved to kiss her again. “Playing Mr. Newlywed to the hilt, aren’t you?” she commented when they finally pulled apart.

His eyes darkened emotionally. “I’m definitely starting something.”

She knew he was.

She just wasn’t sure where it would lead.

Where she
wanted
it to lead.

They were quiet on the drive home. Taking advantage of the blessed silence, Ginger turned her attention to the passing scenery and mulled over ways to keep the expectations they’d started their union with intact.

And only when they had turned into the lane leading to their cottage at the Red Sage, did she finally turn to him and speak what was on her mind.

“Do you think we should add sex to our marriage contract?”

* * *

R
AND
HAD
TO
hand it to Ginger. Just when he thought he was beginning to understand her, she went and laid something like that on him. “I don’t know.” He cut the motor on his truck.

The spring evening was pleasantly warm and serene. The sun was setting, against a backdrop of granite mountains in a blue-gray sky. Closer to the cottages, well-tended beds of red sage and a collection of other wildflowers and natives grasses bloomed.

“Do you really think we need to do that?”

Ginger inhaled a deep breath. She seemed apprehensive again. “Well...maybe.” She shrugged and released the catch on her seat belt, then sat back against the seat. “It’s clear we still desire each other.”

He wondered if she had any idea how cute she looked in men’s clothing. Or how much he wanted to unbutton her shirt right now.

“And always will.”

The stubborn tilt was back to her pretty chin. “We don’t know that.”

Body hardening, he watched her exit the cab, her movements as graceful and feminine as the rest of her.

She reached around to open the rear passenger door. She stuck her head in, and continued her argument determinedly. “My body is going to change, and that may change the way you feel about having sex with me.”

“You’re probably right.” Ignoring her quick look of surprise, he circled around his truck to help carry her shopping bags inside. He set them down and watched as she closed the door behind him. “Probably, as time goes along, I’m going to want to make love to you even more.”

Her rosy lips took on an even more mutinous twist. “I’m serious!”

He walked around, shutting the blinds one by one, while she paused to take off her boots, then turned on the lamps, lighting the cottage with a soft, romantic glow.

If she needed reassurance, he was here to give it. “So am I.” He caught her against him and stroked her hair with the palm of his hand. “You’re only...what? Three months along? And already your breasts are full and luscious and spilling out of the cups of your bra.”

She moaned. “Rand.”

He moved around behind her until there was no space between them, nothing but pleasure. “Your tummy has this intriguing little slope.” He ran his hand sensually over the baby bump.

She shuddered in response and her eyes drifted closed.

He pressed a smile into the softness of her hair. “And your thighs. I don’t think they’ve ever been this silky.” His hand slid between them. “Or the most delectable part of you, so...” He unzipped her jeans and slid his hand inside. “Wet.”

She throbbed at the tender stroking of his palm. “That’s because pregnancy fills me full of hormones.”

“That’s part of it,” he murmured, turning her to face him.

“What’s the rest?”

Rand tugged her jeans and panties off, and lifted her onto the counter. Body aching with the need to claim her, he stepped between her spread thighs. Their glances met. He imagined what it would be like to be with her, like this, not just until their baby was born, but forever.

“It’s basic chemistry.” He undid the buttons of her shirt and lavished the curve of her cheek, the lobe of her ear, her throat, with his lips and the tip of his tongue. She quivered; her full, voluptuous breasts taut against the sheer fabric of her bra. “Whenever we’re around each other for any time at all, I want you, and you want me.”

She caught her breath. “But...”

He threaded his hands through her hair. “No buts, Ginger. It’s true.” And proceeded to kiss her, again and again, until she was as hungry for him as he was for her. His head got a little lighter, his body got harder. And still their mouths meshed as he consumed what little resistance remained.

Ginger kept trying to keep her feelings out of it. This was just sex, fueled by a million different things. Except the one thing that counted. The one thing that could have made them last forever.
Love.
He hadn’t mentioned it. She didn’t dare. Because she knew if she let herself fall for Rand in that way, there would be no turning back. She’d want him in a way he had never been prepared to give, and that would ruin everything.

So she forced herself to concentrate only on the warmth of his touch and the urgency of his body. Desperate to feel the heat of him surrounding her and filling her body, she ordered brusquely, “Undress. I mean it, Rand. Now.”

Instead he tugged off her shirt, her bra.

And brought her right back against him.

The nakedness of her inner thighs brushed against the sturdy fabric of his denim. His lips lightly moved against hers, and he kissed her until she felt her soul stripped bare. Tongue plunging into her mouth, hands moving upward to claim her breasts.

Again and again they exchanged wet, hot, hungry kisses and she welcomed him in, welcomed him with everything she had.

Catching his head between her hands as he worshiped her breasts, her thighs.

Bringing her to the edge of the counter and holding her there...plunging her into passion, then sweet rapture, as a violent shudder racked her entire body.

She tangled her hands in the silky hair at his nape, bringing him upward, forcing his mouth back to hers. And then, finally, his boots and jeans did go. And so did his briefs and his shirt. He stood there, in all his naked glory, wanting her as much as she wanted him. She appreciated all the gorgeous male muscle and whorls of dark silky hair lingering over his navel, his thighs and the most masculine part of him, before returning her gaze back to his.

He smiled.

“Ready whenever you are.”

He laughed. And crushed her to him. She ached with the need to be filled, and yearned with the desire to be loved. “Now, please,” she whispered.

His eyes softened. “With pleasure.”

She braced her hands on his shoulders. He lifted her toward him, and up slightly, against him. Their joining was everything she wanted, everything she dreamed. She gave herself over to him, to this, the marriage she’d never imagined possible. And for one long moment, as their bodies exalted and their hearts sang, she let herself imagine that maybe...just maybe...their relationship might last.

* * *

R
AND
WENT
TO
sleep with Ginger wrapped snugly in his arms and woke at two in the morning, alone. Concerned she might be feeling ill again, he went in search of his wife. She was curled up on the love seat, a blanket across her lap, oblivious to everything but the laptop computer in front of her. He stood framed in the doorway, for a moment just taking in his new wife.

The softness of her breasts, pushed against her pale blue pajama top. Her long copper hair, tousled from sleep...her fair cheeks still bearing the glow of their recent lovemaking. She was intent on whatever she was studying on-screen, her dreamy concentration only adding to the gentle contentment that seemed to radiate from her these days. Pregnancy agreed with her. So did marriage, though he doubted he could get her to admit that. Yet.

She turned, spying him in the doorway.

He smiled, and glad for any excuse to be near her, sauntered closer. “Can’t sleep?”

“Checking my email.”

He went to the fridge and poured them each a glass of milk. He closed the fridge with his foot. “I thought the Boernes weren’t supposed to notify the semifinal winners until tomorrow morning.”

“They’re not.”

“Then...” He settled beside her. “You’re looking at cribs?”

Their fingers brushed as she accepted the glass he gave her. “And baby clothes. And furniture. I was trying to get an idea of what it was going to cost to outfit a nursery.”

She moved the cursor to the bar along the top of the screen that showed him the other webpages she had been perusing.

“You’re getting excited.”

She admitted as much with a nod. “Aren’t you?”

“I am. But I also know you need your sleep.”

She gave him the look she always gave when anyone tried to tell her what to do, think, feel... “Uh-huh.”

He grinned at her decided lack of enthusiasm. Figuring he knew just how to get her where she should be, however, he waited until they’d both finished their milk. Wordlessly he set the glasses and laptop aside, stood and swept her into his arms.

“We’re not making love again,” she warned.

He carried her to the bed. “I know.”

But they did make love. And this time they slept, wrapped in each other’s arms, until eight the next morning.

Ginger was the first to stir. She lifted her head, looked at the clock and groaned. “I forgot to set my alarm.”

Aware how hard she’d been working, he kissed her brow, then eased from the bed. “Sleep in.”

“I can’t.” But then Ginger sighed and snuggled deeper into her pillow. “Maybe just five more minutes...”

She was fast asleep by the time he was dressed.

Whistling, Rand headed for the buffet, figuring he would surprise her with breakfast in bed. He was halfway to the main house when he saw Cordelia’s white Cadillac parked in front of the guest ranch office, his mother moving hurriedly inside. He had no idea what was going on, and honestly, didn’t think he
wanted
to know. But when he passed the open windows, Cordelia’s sweet, plaintive voice floated out to him. “I think we should do it, Josie. I think it would help.”

His mother argued back. “More likely, Cordelia, it will make things worse.”

And “worse,” Rand knew, was something that they did not need.

Not when his marriage to Ginger was finally become as real as it needed to be. He took a detour into the building, bypassed the reception area and walked into the party-planning suite.

Cordelia was dressed in an elegant business suit.

His mother wore jeans.

Both were poring over a lot of pale pink and light blue party stuff. Wondering what the hell was up, he asked, “What’s going on?”

“Nothing,” both women said in unison, stepping in front of the stacks on Cordelia’s desk.

The way the two moms were blushing guiltily and wouldn’t quite look him in the eye said a lot. None of it good, Rand thought. He pointed to a cardboard cut-out of a stork carrying a bundle that said, Good News Is Coming Soon! He grimaced. “Tell me this doesn’t have anything to do with me and Ginger.”

Another telltale silence. Rand took a hard, assessing look at his mother, then another at Cordelia. He shoved a hand through his hair and exhaled wearily. He couldn’t say how or why, but... “You know. Don’t you?”