A Baby...Maybe? & How to Hunt a Husband (12 page)

“I'm not taking offense. But they're so cute.”

He liked the sappy look on her face, but it didn't change his mind. “The billboards are coming down. Next week.”

“I'm glad I saw them when I did, then, because if this week had been next week, I never would have known to contact you and I never would have met you.”

“Are you glad you met me?”

She looked at him. Not that he could see her looking, but he could feel her looking, and when he glanced her way, his feelings were confirmed. She definitely was looking.

“I haven't decided if I'm glad I met you or not.” She got all prim and proper, in direct contrast to her perky nipples and luscious-looking breasts that he could almost but not quite see through the short shirt. Not that he was looking.

Her answer had not been the answer he had expected. Not the one he had been looking for. He thought she'd say, “Oh, Rex, I've been looking for you all my life, you sexy thing.”

“There's the clinic,” she said instead.

“Yep. LuLu lives about a mile from here.”

The land where he kept LuLu under lock and key, so to speak, was the kind of place Cara had described to him earlier, right down to the cottage, flowers and squirrels. He knew she'd like it, not that it mattered whether she did or not. He wanted to believe it. And he would have believed it, too, if he didn't like being with her so damn much.

“LuLu used to stay in the field behind the clinic,” he said. “We decided to move the cattle once the threat of rustling started.”

“Rustling?” Her eyes seemed to get bigger and her red lips went into a perfect little “oh.”

“Hasn't happened here yet, but there's always a threat, especially during the livestock shows. Now semen is being stolen. Sometimes out of the storage areas, sometimes during the shipping between the breeding farms and its destination.”

“That's pretty incredible. I hope they catch the culprits.”

“Like I said, it hasn't happened here yet.”

Rex turned into an unmarked driveway and pulled up to an electronic hitching post. He punched some numbers into a keypad and the wrought-iron gate opened to let them continue up the driveway toward the house. After going through the gate, Rex stopped the truck, waiting for the gate to close and lock behind them.

Instead of oohing and aahing over the cottage as most women he had taken here had done, Cara seemed to be watching him watch the gate lock.
“What's going on here?” she said, sounding suspicious.

“Protection.”

“Do I need protection?”

“Not from me. I'm harmless,” he said, and for the most part he believed it. “It's for LuLu.”

She gave him a sidelong glance. “I'm not sure I believe you.”

“What don't you believe?”

“That you're harmless.”

“Good. Because when it comes to you, I'm not sure I will be.”

Those were the most encouraging words Cara could have heard. Maybe her red lipstick and puckered pouty lips were actually working.

From the road, the cute little cottage looked like any ordinary fifty- or sixty-year-old cottage, not unlike the others they'd seen scattered here and there along the road.

Rex circled the house, then stopped the truck again to open a gate through the tall bay laurel hedge that protected the back of the property. Cara let out a gasp. The hedge wasn't the back of the property at all. It hid not only a mean-looking barbed-wire fence, but acres and acres of land that seemed to stretch out forever.

“Surprise,” Rex said.

“You're telling me,” Cara murmured.

The road they took now led through all those acres and was nothing more than flattened grass that wound through fields of identical grass that wasn't flattened. Behind more barbed-wire fence, cattle dozed under huge oak trees or milled around, chewing their cud and seeming to socialize.

The road didn't seem to lead to any particular destination, but instead, wound around trees, around
ponds and over what she suspected passed for a hill in this flat part of Texas.

He finally stopped the truck beside a field where a lone bull stood all by himself, away from the other cattle.

Rex came around to her side of the truck, opened the door and held out his hand. She didn't think twice before placing hers inside of his. She was glad to have his help. Glad to feel his touch. And so glad she was wearing her hat. She had bought it because it was cute, different from anything she'd worn before, and it would block out the sun, which seemed even more fierce as it was setting than it had at high noon. She could hear a rumble of thunder from somewhere far away. Then a few light raindrops landed on her shoulders, but they stopped almost at once. Nothing to worry about.

“I wish I'd brought an umbrella,” she said as Rex slammed the truck's door shut.

“It's not going to rain,” Rex said.

“I felt a few drops.”

“Humidity.”

“Sure.”

He laughed and took her hand. Cara didn't care if he teased her. She only knew he must never let go of her hand.

He did let her go, though. Just long enough to separate the barbed wire and let her climb between the wires and into the field. Then he took her hand again and led her up the path of doom, toward the bull. She looked down at her clothes, making sure she wasn't wearing red. “I don't know if it's a good idea to get very close to him,” she said.

“He loves to meet new people.”

“But I'm not from Texas.”

“I won't tell if you won't.”

She tightened her grip on him, and felt her fear fade away when he tightened his, too.

Even Cara, who knew nothing about four-legged creatures—the hamsters raised in her classroom during the school year being the exception—could see how majestic the bull was. He held his head proudly high, and not even his tail moved, and that surprised her because she could see the flies buzzing around him and would have thought he'd take great pleasure in swatting them away. In fact, the only reason she knew he was alive was that his eyes, big and chocolaty brown, followed her movement.

“That's a big bull,” she said.

“A championship bull.” Rex looked as proud as a new father who had just given birth. Himself. “Let me introduce you.”

He sounded so serious. He tugged her along. Personally, she was in no hurry to get there. Not that the bull scared her, although LuLu was a very big bull. It was Rex's hand in hers. Good. Reassuring. She didn't want him to let go. Furthermore, she felt that she was the one who had to make a good impression, not LuLu. She was already impressed by LuLu. And now she was face-to-face with him. He was looking her over, and his expression was speculative.

“My, my,” she said. “Let's go. It's really starting to rain and it's not humidity.” It wasn't that the bull scared her. Okay, the bull terrified her. Made her want to run and hide. Despite that, it was hot outside, she could see smoke coming out of his nostrils.

She couldn't restrain a little shriek when he reached out and nuzzled her cheek, but it wasn't a kiss the bull had in mind. He was after her hat. Her new hat, and he was trying to bite it off her head! His mouth was so big—maybe the size of an Olympic-size swimming pool—that if he took the hat, he might take her whole head with it.

“Help,” she said in a tiny shriek.

Rex pulled an apple out of his back pocket. Cara had no idea how it had gotten there. She hadn't noticed any bulges, at least not any along his backside.

He held out his hand, palm open, letting the bull smell the apple. LuLu, more gentle than any dog being offered a bone from the butcher, used his lips to nuzzle the apple out of Rex's hand.

“Oh, how cute,” Cara said. “Just like a two-ton puppy. Now let's go.”

Rex laughed. After downing the apple in one crunch, LuLu sidled back up to Cara and with his enormous snout, nuzzled her shoulder. “What does he want?”

“He's harmless, Cara. He only wants to eat your hat, not you.” Rex tugged at the bull's nose ring, and the bull's snout followed. “There,” he said, letting go of the ring. “Now everything's fine.”

LuLu grunted disdainfully and went right back to Cara's hat. Rex frowned. This time he grabbed the nose ring and tugged LuLu a few steps away. There the bull stopped and looked back at Cara with an expression of lovesickness and longing in his big bull-eyes.

“He likes you,” Rex said.

“You think?” She felt odd being liked by a bull. Being on the bull's approved list.

Now that LuLu wasn't trying to eat her hat, Cara grew more courageous. She moved her pace up a notch, moving faster to catch up with Rex and LuLu. When she got close behind the bull, Lulu stopped all forward motion. Rex, holding on to the bull's nose ring, was almost yanked off his feet by the bull's sudden stop. Not that that seemed to matter to LuLu, who raised his massive head and sniffed the air, got Cara's scent and snorted, tossing his head from side to side. Rex jumped out of the way, yelling, “Whoa, boy.”

“I thought that was for a horse.” Cara also took several steps to the side, out of the bull's way.

“What's for a horse?”

“Saying, ‘whoa boy.'”

“It doesn't matter, horse, bull, what's the difference?”

“The difference,” Cara breathlessly said as LuLu charged past her, “is that LuLu's not whoaing!”

“I told you. He wants your hat.”

The rain fell faster and harder. “Well, he can't have it. I need it. It's raining.” Normally she wouldn't care, but the rain was undoing the hairstyle she'd worked so hard to do. “Why does he want it, anyway? Don't you feed him enough?”

Even with the rain streaming down his face, she could see the uneasy look flicker across his face. “I feed him enough,” he muttered.

“Then why does he have to eat this hat?” She stamped her foot. The puddle she'd stamped in shot water all over Rex's jeans.

“Doesn't want to eat it.” He was still muttering. “He wants to, to…”

His voice faded away. “To what?”

“Wear it.”

“
Wear
it?”

“See,” Rex began, “LuLu isn't your usual bull. He's…he's…” The rest of the sentence was inaudible.

“Are you telling me LuLu's gay?” Cara's eyes widened.

“Shh,” Rex said fiercely.

“Why should I shush? There's nobody here but you and me and LuLu.”

“I just don't like people talking about it.”

“Poor thing,” Cara said, handing her hat over to Rex. “It must be a difficult world for a gay bull in this redneck neighborhood.”

It was Rex's turn to look surprised. Silently he took the hat out of Cara's hand, poked a finger through the straw and slid the hat down one of the bull's ears. LuLu practically purred.

“You're right about that,” Rex said. “He tries so hard to attract the other bulls, but it's always a no-go. Maybe with your hat—”

“Well,” Cara said, “I'm glad you treat him with such kindness and understanding.” She paused a moment. “Are you sure he's not just a transbullsite?”

“What are you talking about?” Rex asked.

“A male bull that wants to dress like a female cow?”

“Hey, who knows my bull better than me? I know my bull.”

“I can see that. The question is…” It was really storming now. She couldn't believe she was standing out in the middle of a Texas gullywasher discussing a bull's sexual orientation.

“The answer is no,” Rex said, “he won't touch any of the cows. Come on.” He grabbed her hand. “Let's make a run for the truck before we drown in this rain.”

“It won't be easy in these shoes.”

“Take them off.”

“I will not. There's yucky stuff in this field.”

Rex lifted her off her feet and ran with her to the fence. She knew she was in heaven in his arms. She'd just never imagined it would be so wet and sloppy.

He put her back down to carefully separate the barbed wire fence. She climbed through the space. The back of her crop top caught on one of the barbs and tore. Rex untangled the material from the barb and she was cleared to go to the other side.

When they reached the truck, he pulled on the handle but the door didn't open.

“You have to unlock it,” Cara said.

“I never lock the truck.”

“You don't worry somebody might steal it?” A stricken look came over her face.

“Who?” Rex said, rivers of rain running through his hair and down his face as he looked around the human-free landscape.

“Somebody. I always lock up. In fact…” She hesitated, but, suddenly aware that they were indeed the only people around, decided there was no point in trying to get out of this one. “I did lock up.” She folded her arms over her soaked top and gave him a defiant stare.

“But the keys are in there.”

“Well,
that
was a stupid thing to do. You're never supposed to leave your keys in a car.”

“Why. The. Hell. Not.” He shouted the words over a clap of thunder, shouting them very slowly.

“You have a point,” she conceded. “I was just thinking of protecting the truck.”

“You protected the truck, all right.” Thunder rolled over the top of them. “If we don't get going, it may be too late to protect ourselves.”

R
AIN SLICED
against her skin like shards of glass, pounding hard, with no relief. Cara was cold. Her feet, barely contained in the sandals by the thin strap, slipped sideways, frontward and back as she ran alongside Rex, trying to keep up with him.

Rex's arm was around her shoulders and he had her tucked as close to his side as he could under the circumstances. He was at least a foot taller, and her shoes, so sexy when they were dry, had become lethal in the field.

“You're going to break an ankle in those things.” He dug his heels in what was quickly becoming a muddy swamp and ordered, “Take off the shoes.”

“But the yucky stuff.”

“Cattle don't roam on the roads. You're safe.”

She tried to pull one shoe off, hopping on the other foot, until he took her hand, placed it on his shoulder and shouted to be heard above the rain, “Don't get all shy on me now. I've seen you under sheets.”

“I know, but still…”

“For God's sake, you can't take your sandals off without hanging on to something, and I'm the only thing here.” He was laughing at her, his dark hair falling across his forehead and into his eyes. “You hold on to me. I won't let you fall.”

Cara didn't need any further invitation to lean into him, placing her hand where his shoulder began and his chest ended. Off went the left shoe. A bare foot
hit the grass. It was a cold and icy feeling. She took off the other shoe and he took them from her.

“Where are we going?”

“Back to the house.”

“That far?”

“You locked the keys in the truck, Cara. Nothing else we can do except stay here and drown.”

He had a point. They walked fast, only her steps didn't match his. “It seemed like we were riding in the truck forever,” she mumbled as she fell farther and farther behind him.

He barely heard her complaints. But heard he enough to know they were getting fainter and fainter, until finally he turned around, saw her standing a good fifty feet behind him with her hands on her hips and a glare in her eye. That was one feisty woman.

He liked feisty women. He wanted to smile, swoop her up in his arms and carry her away, she was that adorable. But he liked watching her, too, and he could swoop anytime, whereas the rain and the wet top she had on might be a once-in-a-lifetime experience. He couldn't help it if her breasts were completely exposed to his view through her soaked shirt. Every delectable curve was there for him to see. The dark areolas, the erect nipples. The nipples of a wanting woman. Whether it was because she wanted him or because he wanted her, he felt overpowered by the need to lift her top, take her nipple in his mouth and pull gently until she whimpered.

“How far are we now?”

“Distance is only a state of mind.” His voice cracked like an adolescent schoolboy's. He wasn't the kind of guy to throw away an opportunity when it landed in his lap either. Slowly, with deliberate determination, he continued to slosh his way through mud and muck back to where she stood. He didn't hurry, despite the wet conditions. Why should he? He
had a great view that was getting better the closer he got.

“I asked you a question,” she said, water pouring down her face, her hair clinging to all parts of her. “I'm waiting.”

Ah-ha. The stance of a woman determined to get what she wants. And he was just the one to give it to her.

He stopped within a half inch from her. So close her nipples slightly grazed his rib cage. The touch, barely a whisper, sent a ripple of heat straight to his groin. He unbuttoned the first button on his shirt. He heard her gasp. He unbuttoned the next one and the next one, working his way down. Her eyes widened. The last button came undone. Her chest rose and fell in quick bursts of breath.

He shrugged out of the shirt, no small feat considering how wet everything was. He wasn't wearing a T-shirt underneath, nothing to protect him from the rain.

“What are you doing?” she gasped.

“What do you think?”

The wet pellets hit his skin hard, taking his mind off the urge to lay Cara down on the wet dirt and sink into her.

Cara wasn't moving. Her eyes were big brown saucers rimmed with wet lashes. Hair that had swung freely from side to side with pretty, swirly curls only an hour ago was now glued in wet strands to her back and bottom. The wayward piece across her cheek he was able to slide back behind her ear before placing his shirt around her shoulders.

Cara gazed up into his face. The blood was pounding so hard in his ears he didn't hear the words “Thank you,” but he could read her lips.

She slipped her arms through the sleeves. Instead of buttoning up the shirt, which would be almost im
possible to do as wet as it was, she wrapped the material around her waist, holding it closed with her hand.

“Now we're going to the house,” he said.

This time, she simply nodded.

Once again, he placed his arm around her shoulders and pulled her into his side. They ran side by side, her hip rubbing against his thigh, the friction intense. His kept his pace slow so she could keep up with him. Even at a slower jog, his legs were so long that it took her one and a half steps for each one of his.

By the time they reached the house, Rex knew Cara was exhausted from fighting the rain and wind. He held open the gate to the white picket fence and waited for Cara to go through. He took her by the hand, not that he needed to but because it was becoming a habit and he didn't want to think about how it was possible a habit could form in so short a time or what that meant right now. They ran to the porch, where they were finally protected from the rain and wind by the overhang.

“You don't have a key, do you?” Cara asked, unable to hide her disappointment. “They're in the truck on your key ring.”

“Of course I have a key. Right here.” Rex went over to a clay flowerpot. There wasn't anything in it except some dried-up dirt. He lifted the pot and picked up the key that lay on the wooden porch.

“Isn't that dangerous?” Cara asked, pointing to the spot where the key had been.

“No. The pot's empty, so I'm not going to get a hernia lifting it.”

“I'm talking about the key.” Was he purposely being obtuse?

“We keep the door locked.” He gave her a look as if he thought she was.

“To keep the key under the pot. Anyone can find it. That's the first place that people will look.”

“Come on,” Rex said, unlocking the door then opening it for her. “I've already learned you're paranoid. All the more reason to consider moving out of evil Erie and into peaceful Pegleg.”

At least one hundred bolts of lightning crossed overhead. That wasn't so bad. Until the explosion. Cara screamed and tackled Rex at what she thought had to be dynamite.

He held her tight, rubbing her back, murmuring, “It's okay, little one, it's okay.”

“It was a bomb.” Her heart almost pounded out of her chest and into his. His hand stroking her shoulder blades in gentle rotation comforted her, made her lean closer into him. She couldn't seem to get close enough.

“It was a transformer. Come on.” He only moved slightly away, and even then he kept her right at his side. “Let's turn up the heat, make some coffee. We need to get out of these wet clothes. You're shivering and shaking like a clapboard house in the center of a Texas tornado.”

“I am cold.” She had to agree. Her teeth were knocking into each other she was shivering so badly. She'd be lucky if they didn't break.

He faced her, both hands on her shoulders, and suddenly gave her a curious look. “I didn't realize you were quite so short,” he said.

Those were fighting words. She had been
shortcake
and
shortbread
growing up. No one got away with calling her that now. She shrugged out of his reach. “What's that supposed to mean?” She gave him a certain kind of smile. If he had known her better, he would have known that the smile wasn't a smile, it was a warning.

“It doesn't mean anything. Just a statement. You're
taller in your shoes, that's all. Without your shoes, you're shorter.”

“You see, Doctor,” she said, “it's a requirement in the Erie school system that a kindergarten teacher be no taller than five foot three inches. It's so we don't give the five-year-olds inferiority complexes.”

“Really?” He looked puzzled, which didn't surprise her, because even she couldn't believe the crap pouring out of her mouth.

“Oh, yes. Do you know how hard it is to find teachers at or below the height requirement?”

“No, I don't. But it sounds like a good idea. Maybe I'll bring something like that up at our next school board meeting.”

He seemed to ponder the height issue among kindergarten children, which made Cara want to shake some common sense into him. “Oh, for heaven's sake, I was only joking.” Her shivering got worse and she crossed her arms over her ribs and belly trying to keep warm.

“I knew that.” He came back with a smile that bordered on lip-smackingly divine. “I was only playing along.”

“Okay then. Good.” With as much dignity as she could muster considering that his shirt was now molding to her body, she assessed her surroundings. “I need to get out of these clothes. Where's the heat you promised? Where's the coffee?”

“Right here.” Rex flipped the light switch and nothing happened. “Damn.” He walked inside the living area, turning on lamps that didn't shine. “The transformer that just exploded must have cut off the electricity.”

“What do we do?” She wasn't panicked. Not yet. There was still some feeble light coming through the windows. But it wouldn't last long, although being
alone with Rex in the dark wasn't the most dangerous place she could possibly be.

But it could be the most dangerous place for him given how she could hardly stop ogling his chest. She thought he might be thinking the same thing when he left her standing in the living room, all alone.

She heard the sound of drawers opening, things being pushed around, clanging, rattling, then drawers closing. He came back with several flashlights. “Here, take a few.”

She didn't argue. She took two.

“Take off your clothes.”

“I beg your pardon?” She couldn't believe he would order her to do something like that. That was a fantasy come true.

“In there.” He pointed to a door. “It's a bathroom. You can get undressed in private.”

She didn't move. This wasn't good. What happened to the getting-naked-together part? Again, he took her by the hand and led her through the living room, down a hallway and into a small bathroom. He opened cabinet doors, and by the third one, found what he'd been looking for. “Here.” He handed her a big white towel. “I'll take one for myself. Get undressed and wrap yourself up in that. You'll be warmer and more covered up than you are now.”

She stared at terry-cloth material.

“What's the matter?” he asked.

“Is this all? It's only a towel.”

He took it from her, unfolded it and held it up by the corners.

“Okay,” she said, taking the towel back. “It's big.” Too big. She would have searched for something more revealing, shorter, maybe a little thread-bare in all the right places, and maybe a few wrong ones, too. She couldn't now because he'd already seen the size of the towel.

A few minutes later she came back into the living room, the towel wrapped around her sarong-style with one corner tucked in to hold the whole thing together. She'd debated leaving her coins on, but the necklace and bracelet were cold against her skin, so she'd left them on the vanity in the bathroom. Hopefully, that wouldn't mess with her luck. She carried her wet clothes bundled in her arms, holding a flashlight in each hand.

Rex was bending over, leaning into the fireplace. From her viewpoint she only saw his rear end barely covered in the towel, long, muscular legs and that was about it. That was enough. She could hear him striking one match, then another. Finally, the fire caught and flames filled the space, the smell of smoke burning her nose.

When he turned to face her, she nearly fainted. The towel hid nothing. He might as well have been wearing nothing, considering how much of him wasn't covered. He came toward her and she couldn't move. All she wanted to do was fling off her towel, pull his off, too, and have her way with him.

“Rex?” She almost choked on his name. She had to think of something to ask him besides
Do you want to have sex?
“Do you have any aspirin?” That was bland enough.

“Back in the bathroom, in one of the drawers or in the medicine cabinet. You'll find it. Wait, let me get you some water.”

He rushed off to the kitchen and came back within a few seconds. He put the glass on a table and took the clothes out of her arms. As he did, her towel caught in his fingers, the corner coming out from where it had been tucked, and fell forward. She immediately grabbed the corner, keeping the towel from falling. She dropped her flashlights on the wooden floor instead, barely missing her toes. She swung the
towel back into place and bent down to pick them up, and with a flashlight in one hand and the glass of water in the other, headed back to the bathroom.

She found the condoms in the middle drawer, and shut it quickly. Then reason came over her. She had permission to be there, to look. She hadn't found any pain relievers. Still, condoms could be the start of a very good pain reliever. Orgasms opened the blood vessels in the brain and relieved headaches much the same way as caffeine. Orgasms were very healthy.

The aspirin was in the last drawer along with safety pins. Maybe God had sent the rain to make this moment happen. The moment she could conceive the old-fashioned way. Condoms and safety pins. Rex, Cara and baby. All it would take would be one pin-prick in the foil package. She took one of the pins and stuck it all the way through the wrapper and latex. The she stuck it again and again.