Falling for Owen (20 page)

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Authors: Jennifer Ryan

BOOK: Falling for Owen
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“I could use some water.”

“Coming right up.” She stood in line behind a mother with a three-year-old boy wrapped around her middle, his chin on her shoulder and his eyes drooping with sleep. Something inside her softened at the sight of the little blond boy. She thought of Owen and a golden-haired son who looked like his daddy, playing ball on a Saturday just like today. She tucked that picture in her heart and hoped someday it might come true. She wanted a family more than anything. Maybe this time she’d found the right man to make the dream come true.

The mother and son moved away with their order, and she stepped up to the counter. Shannon looked up from her register, surprise widening her eyes.

“What are you doing here?”

“Owen invited me to the game.”

“Oh, he’s so nice.”

Claire understood Shannon’s attachment to Owen. He’d saved her from a bad marriage. She got the whole Prince-Charming, saving-the-damsel-in-distress thing Shannon saw in him. The same thing appealed to her, too.

“How are you, Shannon? You must have been very scared the other night when your ex-husband banged on your door.”

“Not the first time. Won’t be the last. He’s like a dog with a bone.”

“Yes, well, let’s hope he comes to his senses and finds something else to amuse him.”

“He’s probably off drinking himself stupid.”

“I don’t know if you heard, but I think he slashed my tires yesterday at Owen’s office.”

“He probably followed me there and saw me with Owen. He can’t stand to see me with another man. Owen is nothing like Dale.”

“Dale must have been good to you sometimes.”

“He was wild when we met, and I wanted to be wild with him. But things change. He changed. Owen helped me see that I deserve something better. I’m so lucky to have him on my side.”

“He certainly does take very good care of his clients,” she said diplomatically, reading between the lines. Shannon wanted to stake a claim, but Claire knew how he felt about her. She tamped down the immediate rush of jealousy and suspicion that something was going on between them.

“Owen is a very good friend.”

“I’ll have a medium Coke and a bottle of water, please.” She changed the subject because they’d get nowhere going back and forth like this. Shannon didn’t want to be friends and bond over their shared unhappy Dale experiences. No, she wanted to keep Owen all to herself. Who could blame her? After what she’d been through, Owen’s kindness probably seemed like a true miracle in her life.

Shannon placed her order on the counter and rang up her total. Claire handed over the three dollars and grabbed the water and soda.

About to turn away, Shannon asked, “When will you start your new delivery business?”

Baffled by the questions, she cocked her head to the side. “I’m sorry, what?”

“The catering business you and Owen talked about starting.”

Ah, the reason he’d cut his lunch with Shannon short to be with her. “It’s still in the planning stage.”

“Right,” Shannon said, a note of disbelief in her voice.

“Have a good weekend,” she said, and walked to meet Brody by the tree.

“What the hell was that all about?” he asked.

She didn’t think Brody had been paying attention. She should remember his military background and the fact nothing got by him.

“Her ex-husband is the one causing all the trouble.”

“I don’t think she likes you much.”

“She likes Owen,” Claire said, handing over his bottle of water.

“Yeah, I got that.”

“Owen is trying to keep a professional distance from her, but she relies on him.”

“Maybe too much if her ex thinks she’s having an affair with him.”

“At least her taste has improved,” she teased. They walked back to the ball field. Owen’s gaze immediately shot to her, and she waved. His smile made her knees go weak.

“Yuck,” Brody said from beside her. She cracked up laughing.

The game ended twenty minutes later with the Blue Jays still up by two. They circled around Rain and Owen with all their hands in the center. They pumped their hands up and down three times and shouted, “Blue Jays,” waving their hands up in the air. They lined up to high-five the other team. Owen and Rain shook hands with the opposing coaches and the girls came running to her and Brody at the coolers. Rain and Brody brought the girls drinks. Claire had brought the snacks.

Owen didn’t waste any time. He walked right up to her and gave her a kiss. “I missed you.”

“You were right over there.”

“Too far away from you, sweetheart. Did you enjoy the game?”

“I did. I saw Shannon at the concession stand.”

Owen snagged a drink from the cooler and took a deep swallow. “I forgot she works here on the weekend.”

The girls devoured the orange slices she’d spent her lunch break cutting up. Luckily, Brody remembered a bag to set on the ground by the cooler for the girls to toss in the peels.

“I thought you were bringing treats from your shop,” Dawn said, disappointment laced in every word.

“I heard Mom say something about cupcakes,” Autumn chimed in.

Claire smiled and opened the cooler, pulling out the two white bakery boxes. “Do you mean these cupcakes?”

All the girls cheered. Even Owen joined in with an exaggerated yell to match the girls, making her laugh and shake her head.

“See, I did bring you a treat.”

“Does that mean I don’t get to kiss you again?”

“Nothing stops you from kissing me.”

“I like kissing you.”

“I like you kissing me.”

“Come here, sweetheart.”

Caught up in the fun of the game, the excitement of seeing the girls win, and Owen’s playful joking with the girls and her, she had no trouble walking into his arms, raising her head, and accepting the kiss he laid on her. Soft, sweet, nothing too racy in front of the children. He tasted of chocolate frosting and cake and the now-familiar taste of just him. He hooked his arm around her side and pulled her close. She leaned into him and settled into his side with a contented sigh. They watched the girls devour the cupcakes with an exuberance only children can display when cake is involved. She loved their chatter and squeals.

“You two look good together,” Rain said, walking up beside them.

“Hey, beautiful, did you get a cupcake?” Owen asked, and this time the
beautiful
didn’t bother her in the least.

“I need something more substantial before I start eating cupcakes. Besides, I don’t think the girls left us any.”

Claire stepped away from Owen, but he reached out and grabbed her arm. “Where are you going, sweetheart?”

“Well, I thought the game might end late and everyone might be hungry, so”—she opened the lid of the cooler and pulled out a couple of the Styrofoam takeout boxes—“I brought lunch. I thought we could have a picnic.”

“You are the best girlfriend ever,” Owen said, leaning in and kissing her while stealing a container from her.

Her eyes went wide and she stared up at him. Her stomach filled with fluttering butterflies. Excitement raced through her. The thrill of it made her lightheaded. Things were moving too fast. They needed to slow down, take a breath. No. Everything in her clung to the exhilaration, even if a small voice reminded her to remain cautious.

Owen leaned into her ear and whispered. “Breathe. Let it settle.”

“Please tell me one of those is mine,” Rain pleaded.

Claire shook off the shock and her conflicting emotions and handed over the container with Rain’s name on it. She promptly opened the lid and sighed out her pleasure. “My favorite. Turkey and Havarti on sourdough. You remembered.”

“I try to pay attention. You make it easy, because you order the same thing each time. Same with the girls.”

“They’re picky.”

“Well, if you can get them off Brody’s back, I’ve got lunch for them, too.”

Rain called to the girls, rolling and playing with their father on the grass nearby, literally jumping all over him as he picked them up and tossed them around, wrestling them over his shoulders and tickling them unmercifully. Her gaze met Owen’s and they shared a quietly tense moment. He smiled and she walked to him with her lunch container and sat down between his legs, leaned back into his chest, and held his arm when it banded around her middle, and he pulled her close and kissed her on the side of the head.

Yeah, you’re his girlfriend.

The butterflies in her stomach made her giggle. He poked her in the ribs and made her laugh even more.

“What is so funny, sweetheart?”

“Nothing. This is a good day.”

He kissed the side of her head again. “Yes, it is a very good day. Let’s make it a better night. Come up to the ranch this evening. I’ll make you dinner.”

 

Chapter Twenty-One

C
LAIRE DROVE DOWN
the road to Owen’s place, her stomach tied in knots. They’d had such a wonderful day together, she couldn’t say no to his dinner invitation. Still, she didn’t know exactly what to expect. She checked her face in the rearview mirror for the tenth time in half a mile. The light makeup job she’d done on her eyes with a faded violet shadow made the green stand out. Her lips were tinted a soft pink. She’d chosen her wardrobe carefully, changing from one blouse to another, until she finally settled on the simple soft pink tunic, black leggings, and ankle boots. She left her hair loose and draped over one shoulder down the front of her. She’d seen the way he looked at it and wanted to please him.

She had second thoughts about the matching pink lace bra and panties. They made her feel sexy, but this was just dinner. Right? She’d thought of nothing else but sleeping with him since . . . well, practically since she’d met him. He’d left the when up to her. Still, she didn’t know if she was ready to take the next step. The hum in her gut and erotic thoughts in her head said otherwise.

She couldn’t wait to see him again.

She’d never been to his place. The road to it was long and winding, following the fence line on her right. She passed the turnoff to Brody’s place. Easy to spot the new construction, piles of lumber, and trailer sitting on the side of the property. She drove on and realized Owen’s spread must be huge to cover so much land. He and Brody probably owned it together, but still. To think how much the land must be worth, and that they’d never sold it to be parceled off for land developments when others close to town had done the same.

The directions Owen gave her said to turn right on the second gravel road after Brody’s place. She took the turnoff and followed the road around a bend. The two-story white house came into view and she gaped at the structure. She expected old and run-down, especially after some of the stories he and Brody told her about growing up here with their neglectful father, but the place looked well tended. The flowerbeds could have used some sprucing up, but the yard was clean, the bushes and trees trimmed. She loved the big red-and-white barn with the white fenced-in corrals and pastures. A beautiful dapple-gray horse pranced around a corral, shaking its massive head, having fun.

She parked behind Owen’s truck and stepped out of her car. Halfway up the walkway to the porch steps, a loud catcall whistle rang out behind her. Unable to help the smile, she spun around and found Owen by the barn, leading a brown horse with a slightly swayed back. The horse might have caught her attention, but Owen held it. The hum in her gut intensified, rippling out waves of heat through her system. Dark brown boots, tight well-worn blue jeans, a white T-shirt plastered to his broad chest with splotches of water. His windblown blond hair swept backward with rake marks from his fingers. The man looked gorgeous in a suit, handsome and wholesome in baseball gear, and rough and rugged here on the ranch. His blue eyes squinted from the sun, but his gaze remained on her. As if he’d touched her, she felt the sweep of his gaze over her from head to toe. A shiver rippled over her skin.

She stopped several steps away, cocked her hip, and stared at him.

“I should have known you’d be early,” he said, sighing and looking over his shoulder at his big friend.

She checked her watch. “I’m three minutes early.”

He lifted his hand, but let it fall when he realized he didn’t have his watch.

“Is it really that late?”

“I can come back later if you’re busy.”

“Hell no.” Frustrated, he raked his hand through his hair. “I’m a mess. This guy decided to play in a mud puddle. I couldn’t put him back in his stall covered in mud, so I had to wash him down. Give me five minutes.”

“Take all the time you need,” she said, her voice husky with the need to kiss him building the longer he stood there with that urgent look in his eyes.

“See something you like?” he asked, a half smile on his handsome face and a mischievous glint in his eyes.

“You are many different men.”

“What?”

“I thought I liked the baseball look the best. Now, I’m thinking this is much better. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a man look as good as you in everything he wears.”

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