Lone Star Daddy (McCabe Multiples) (14 page)

He was up for anything with her. Didn’t she know that? He telegraphed his sentiments with a look. “I’ll give it my best try.”

She gave him a wry look, meaning that was more than he had done earlier in the day. Finally, the reaction he had been expecting from her. He fought off a flash of guilt.

Rose was right to think he had screwed up on purpose. But his shenanigans were for the greater good. Eventually everyone would realize that.

“So what is it?” He returned his attention to the aforementioned game.

“Guess!” Stephen bounced up and down, then climbed the post on the porch like a monkey.

Clint wrapped his arms around the little tyke’s waist and lifted him down before he hurt himself. “Ah, okay. Is it checkers?”

“No.” Sophia lost her shyness long enough to shout. “That’s the game! Guess!”

“Guess What This Is!” Rose explained. With a crook of her finger, she led the way inside. Four stools had been pulled up at the kitchen island, and she asked everyone to take a seat.

“We’re wearing blin’folds on our eyes!” Stephen explained, so enthusiastic he could barely sit still in his chair.

“Sounds exciting,” Clint said. So exciting he wouldn’t mind doing that with Rose at another time.

Rose clearly tried not to react to the suggestive look he gave her but blushed faintly just the same.

He grinned.

She flushed some more.

Averting her glance from his, she stepped behind each contestant and tied on the red bandanas one by one. “Okay now, everybody, can you see anything?”

“Noooooo!”

“Great. Here’s the tricky part.” Rose enunciated carefully, taking the time to make sure the kids comprehended the instructions. “I’m going to hand you-all a stick of something at the same time.” She held up her index finger. “You get
one
bite.”

“Can’t we have
two
bites?” Scarlet asked, as ready to argue as ever.

“All right,” Rose relented.

Clint could hear the smile in her voice.

“Two. And then when I ask you what it is, you have to shout out the answer at the same time. You’re going to have five chances, or five different things to taste. If you can guess at least three of them right, you win a prize, which you will get at the end. Okay. Everybody ready?”

“Yes!” the four contestants said in unison.

“The first one is easy,” Rose said. “What do you think it is?”

“Carrot!” the triplets shouted in unison.

“Eggplant!” Clint crowed.

Everyone laughed.

“The kids got it right, but that’s okay, Mr. Clint,” Rose soothed in a voice that said it wasn’t the end of the world after all. “Maybe you’ll get it next time.”

The next round started.

“Green bean!” the kids shouted while Clint yelled, “Asparagus!”

“I’m sure you’ll get the next one,” Rose predicted cheerfully.

And Clint did. As did everyone else. It was a pretzel stick.

The fourth was a cucumber. Which everyone got.

The fifth, slivers of beefsteak tomato.

“Wow,” Rose said when the bandanas came off. She looked at her children admiringly. “You-all did really well tonight.” She brought five orange ice pops out of the freezer and handed them out. The kids went out back to eat theirs. Clint and Rose stayed behind for the clean-up.

“Nice job,” he said, admiring how pretty she looked in the dusky light. “Getting them to eat their vegetables without really eating their vegetables in the traditional sense.”

“I decided to take a page from your book, stop making it all business and have a little fun with the situation instead. A fact that led me straight to the solution.”

“In any case, well done.” He leaned forward, his lips hovering over hers, wanting to do what he had hoped to do all day.

The door slammed.

“Mommy!” Stephen exclaimed, his tone strident. “Are you and Mr. Clint
kissing
?”

* * *

W
E
WERE
ABOUT
TO
, Rose thought on a wistful sigh. Beside her, Clint merely smiled. “What would you think if that were the case?” Clint asked as the two girls joined their brother.

“Yuck!” Stephen wrinkled his nose.

“It’s not yuck!” Scarlet immediately disagreed. “It’s romantic! Like in our aunts’ weddings.”

“Did you see the videos?” Sophia asked. “Mommy doesn’t have one, but Aunt Maggie and Aunt Callie and Aunt Lily all do.”

Scarlet corrected, “Aunt Poppy and Aunt Violet don’t have them.”

Clint gave Rose a look. He seemed to be wondering why that was such a hot topic of conversation.

Reluctantly Rose explained, “We’ve been viewing wedding videos to help Poppy with her private adoption application. The agency wants video of Poppy and Trace Caulder—”

“They actually got together?” Clint interrupted in surprise.

“In a way. It’s a long story.” An adult story. One that involved two friends who sometimes slept together and were probably in love with each other, but too stubborn and stuck in their own divergent life-paths to admit it. “I’ll tell you later.”

“Looking forward to it,” Clint returned in that low, sexy voice she loved.

“Is dinner ready, Mommy?” Stephen chimed in. “We’re still hungry.”

“Yes. It is. You-all go wash up, and Mr. Clint and I will get it on the table.”

As soon as the kids headed for the bathroom upstairs, Clint hooked his hand around her waist and pulled her against him, hip to hip and chest to chest. He leaned in close, his warm breath fanning against her cheek.

Gazing up at him, a thrill shot through her, along with ever-deepening desire.

He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “Do you have any idea how much I missed you last night?”

“I believe so...” A mixture of longing and contentment melted her insides. “And I missed you, too,” she whispered.

This time, he did kiss her in a way that felt like a down payment to their future.

* * *

“S
O
WHAT
’
S
THE
deal with the wedding videos again?” Clint asked Rose later, when the kids had gone off to bed.

As always when the subject of matrimony was brought up, she turned evasive. Like she didn’t want to think about it. But she answered him anyway. “Poppy and Trace have no plans to get married. They just want to adopt together. The private agency they are using feels they will have a better chance of pairing Poppy and Trace with an expectant mom if they can demonstrate how great they are together. And with Trace overseas with the Air Force, these videos are really all they’ve got.”

She took two bottles of sparkling water from the fridge and handed him one. “But weddings are such joyful occasions, and everyone is so happy, it’s a good event to show people. The birth mother will see not just Poppy and Trace but also the extended family the child will have.”

He followed her into the family room and settled next to her on the sofa, where she’d already laid out the information they were supposed to be studying together that evening. “You’re not looking at your wedding?” he asked.

She’d barely sat down before she jumped back up again. “I didn’t have one,” she called over her shoulder. “Barry and I eloped.”

He watched her bend over to root around in the pantry. It was a nice view. Very nice, as a matter of fact. “How come?”

She came back carrying a bag of cheese curls. “A lot of reasons.” She tugged at the bag with both hands and ripped it open. “My parents weren’t gung ho about us getting married when we did. His parents were divorced and not speaking—at all. So trying to bring all that together would have been a nightmare.” She munched on a cheese curl. “We ran off to Vegas instead.”

He studied the turbulent emotion in her eyes. “Did you ever regret not having a family ceremony like your sisters?”

She shrugged and offered him the bag. “It would have been nice to have all our family and friends there wishing us well.”

A little surprised to see her chowing down on junk food, but enjoying this side of her as much as any other, he accepted her offer. The cheese curls were, as he had expected, crunchy, salty and delicious. And of no nutritional value whatsoever. Which made them even more of a guilty pleasure.

Wondering if it was the talk of anything related to marriage stressing her out, or just him in general, he tested her reaction further. “And think of the other things you missed out on. The dress...”

She suppressed a smile.

“The veil...”

She licked the cheesy residue off her fingers. “The groom in fancy duds, too.”

He tried not to groan at the sweet suction of her lips. “The first dance.”

“The cake.” She put the bag aside.

Which was good, since he didn’t think he could bear seeing her licking anything again without letting the sensual maneuver spur him into action, too. He cleared his throat. “The honeymoon.”

She sighed more wistfully than ever, then met his gaze. “It’s too late for all that now.”

“Is it?” Clint challenged her, hating to see her fall short of any of her fantasies when it wasn’t necessary.

“What are you saying?”

He pulled her onto his lap and cuddled her close. “That you’re still young. You have your whole life ahead of you. There’s no reason to curtail your dreams.”

She laid her head on his shoulder. Sighed again, looking upward. “There are three of them sleeping above us.”

He stroked a hand lovingly through her hair. “Three who would like nothing better than to see their mommy happy.”

He kissed the nape of her neck, her cheek, the shell of her ear.

Her phone rang.

Rose groaned and started to push away. “See what I mean? It’s always something.”

He tightened his arms around her. “Don’t answer it.”

She let it go. He kissed her—for real this time. The phone kept on ringing. She groaned again, and this time she did reach for it. Sprawled half on and half off his lap, she listened, her frown deepening.

“Of course I can be there. Yes, I’ll get the message to him. Thanks.” She hung up, looking stunned.

Concerned, he asked, “What’s going on?”

Rose shook her head as if to clear it. “That was Jeff. He said they’re delaying any additional filming.”

Clint tensed. “Until when?”

“He didn’t say. He did say he and the ad team and Farmtech execs all want to have lunch with both of us tomorrow at the Wagon Wheel restaurant in town.”

Clint watched the quick rise and fall of her chest and wondered if he had gone too far. “You think they’re firing me?”

Rose relaxed ever so slightly. She settled back on his lap, her mood pensive now. “Unlikely. I mean—” she raked her teeth across her lower lip “—if they wanted to do that, they could just do it via phone or email. There’d be no reason to invite us both to lunch.”

“Maybe it will turn out to be good news.” At least, Clint hoped—for Rose’s sake—that was the case.

Chapter Thirteen

“Sorry we’re late,” Jeff said Friday at noon as he and Clint breezed into the party room at the Wagon Wheel restaurant, where everyone else was already gathered. “We were finalizing a deal for Clint’s new tractor.”

Ted perked up. “Which one is he purchasing?” he asked the local dealership owner.

Jeff grinned. “The TW466.”

Or in other words, Rose thought, having looked at a few tractors herself, the very top of the line. “Congratulations.” She smiled. Maybe they’d make a farmer out of Clint after all. Especially since a lot of ranchers also grew their own hay and feed for their herds.

Clint slipped into a chair next to Rose. Jeff took the one between Aaron and Ted.

To her relief, Clint not only looked the part of a businessman, in a sport coat, shirt, tie and jeans but also was behaving with more professional savvy.

During the meal, the conversation stayed casual, and they all got to know each other a little better. Finally, when the plates had been cleared and coffee and dessert served, it was time to get down to brass tacks. “I’m sure you’re wondering why we asked you both here today,” Ted began.

Rose had been afraid Clint was going to get fired. Clearly, though, that wasn’t the case, given the jocularity of everyone involved.

“We want to hire Rose to work on the campaign, too,” Ted said. “At the same hourly rate we’re already paying Clint.”

Rose could only stare. “Excuse me?”

Aaron sipped his coffee. “You and Clint may both be too young to remember, but years ago, there was an iconic ad campaign for an instant camera that advertising professionals still look to for inspiration. The two spokespeople had such great chemistry that the public was convinced they were married in real life. And they were—but to other people.” He paused for a moment. “Anyway, we have seen that same fun and sexy rapport in the two of you. And we all agree that
together
the two of you have the perfect combination of star power, sex appeal and knowledge.”

Aaron brought out a stack of photos taken during the shooting. Not the stiff formal ones they had tried to take of Clint, but candid ones of Clint and Rose talking, flirting, laughing and arguing. Ones in which they both were silent, gazing deep into each other’s eyes. In another, she was touching his arm, encouraging him, and he was staring down at her as if he were about to say to hell with everything, haul her into his arms and kiss her.
Really
kiss her.

“You have that rare ability to communicate without words.” Aaron hit a button and handed over a computer tablet.

On screen was the footage of Rose talking enthusiastically about the berry picker and fruit harvesting. Her face was all lit up. Clint was standing nearby, grinning and listening intently.

“See?” Ted said, as if all their problems had been solved. “It’s magic.”

It was. And yet...

Rose struggled against the guilt. “I don’t want to take any work from Clint,” she said.

Or feel she was pushing him out of the limelight, because that would not be good for their relationship. And they did have a relationship, she realized, much as she kept trying to deny it.

Those photos, the film of them together, proved it.

Beside her, Clint was deep in thought, too. Finally he squinted at the execs, rocked back in his chair and asked, “Are you sure you don’t want just Rose?”

He wanted her to go it alone?

Rose regarded Clint in shock.

He lifted a staying hand. “When it comes to farming and harvesting, and crops in Texas, she’s really the expert.”

Ted smiled in response. “Rose is great, and she does have the McCabe family name and reputation, which is always a plus, of course. But she’s not a rodeo star turned Texas rancher. Bottom line, we need you both.” In a smooth, businesslike tone, he elaborated, “Clint, your daily pay will stay the same. There will just be more of it than we originally envisioned, which will be covered in an addendum to your current agreement with Farmtech.” Ted pushed a piece of paper at Rose. “This is what you can expect to earn.”

Rose glanced at the paper. The sum was enough to put her in the black for the year!

Determined not to make the same mistake they’d made before, however, she played it cool. “Obviously I need to think about this for a day or two and talk to Clint. Make sure we’re of the same mind. And my attorney will need to review any contracts.”

“And any change to mine,” Clint added.

Ted sobered. “We need an answer by tomorrow.”

Rose and Clint exchanged looks, partners now in more ways than one. “No problem,” they said in unison.

* * *

C
LINT
WALKED
R
OSE
OUT
, aware the luncheon couldn’t have gone better, at least from his point of view. She looked incredibly pretty in a fitted white business suit and heels he guessed were from her pharmaceutical-rep days back in Dallas.

“So when and where do you want to talk?” Clint murmured when they reached the parking lot. The day was warm, and he took off his sport coat.

Rose glanced at her watch. “I have two and a half hours before I have to pick up the kids, but I need to go to Rose Hill Farm and do a few things first.” She paused. “Can you follow me there in your pickup?”

He nodded, glad they’d have time alone without interruption, even if it was brief. “No problem,” he said, already loosening his tie.

Fifteen minutes later, they were getting out of their vehicles and walking onto her front porch. The moment she opened her door, they were hit with the most delicious aroma. Aware he could get used to this, Clint mugged for her pleasure, “Mmm. Something sure smells fantastic.”

She laughed. “It’s blackberry jam. I’ve been cooking it in my Crock-Pot. I’ve got to get it into the mason jars I sterilized in the dishwasher this morning. You can help if you want.”

“Sure.”

Actually, there were three Crock-Pots around the kitchen, all filled with thick, bubbling jam. Following his lead and deciding to get more comfortable, too, Rose took off her jacket, revealing a pale blue satin tank top. She whipped on one of her flowery aprons with a bib across the chest. The sight of her was so sweet and homey, he got hard even before they stood together, shoulders bumping, washing their hands at the kitchen sink.

Figuring there was only one panacea for that, Clint caught her reaching for a towel and took her in his arms. “Before we get started...” He lowered his head and kissed her the way he had wanted to all day, one hand running down her spine to rest at the small of her back. She curled against him like a heat-seeking kitten. Yet he was the one practically purring when the sensual liplock came to a halt.

She gazed up at him as if she would never really understand him. “What was that for?” she asked, dreamy-eyed.

A down payment for later
, he thought.
A down payment for the rest of our lives.
But aware it was too soon for that, he said huskily instead, “Congratulations.”

She laughed, her confusion deepening. “For stealing your job? Or half of it, anyway?”

Guilt ran through him at the machinations he’d used to help make that all happen. “I’m happy for you, Rose,” he told her. And he was—although he would have preferred to be done with working for Farmtech, for good.

It just wasn’t his thing.

The question was, how would he get out of it?

Without her losing out, too?

Rose moved away from him. She turned on the burner under two big canning tubs that had already been filled with water. While the water heated, she pulled out the sterilized mason jars. Handing him a ladle, she demonstrated how to fill each of the jars to within a quarter inch of the top with the hot jam. Once they began to work, she said, “I’m happy, too. I mean, according to the specifics they gave us over lunch, it’s not going to require all that much time from either of us once we get the initial commercials and videos done. Just one or two days a month and a little bit of travel.”

She paused to show him how to put the seals and lids on the filled jars.

“And best of all,” she continued as she went down the line, wiping down the outside of the jars, “the money I’ll get from Farmtech will pay all three of my kids’ preschool tuition for an entire year!”

Together they carefully lowered the jars into the boiling water bath. Rose set the timer for ten minutes. She returned to the counter, then, with his help, carried the empty Crock-Pot insets to the farmhouse sink. “I mean, once they get to public school in another two years, the tuition won’t be such an issue,” she said, filling them all with hot, soapy water, then leaving them to soak. “But right now, I have to admit, it’s pretty steep...”

As was her workload, Clint thought.

He was used to working hard himself, but as always, seeing her stretched to the limit filled him with need. And not just to hold her in his arms and make love to her. He wanted to protect and care for her, and her kids. Have fun with her. Weather the storms with her. He wanted... Hell, he wanted all of this. Just not with Farmtech.

She turned toward him again, stopped. The buzzer went off on the stove. She gave him another long, considering look.

He shook off his musing. “What do you need?”

She pointed to the stove. “All of these jars have to come out of the water and be set onto the towels on the counter to cool.”

“I can do that.” He stepped in to grab the handles and lift one of the wire racks that held the jars. He set it down gently. Then he turned to the second.

When he’d finished, Rose turned off the stove. She swung back to him. Her eyes were solemn, assessing, and in that split second, so very, very sad. “You really don’t want to do this, do you?”

What was Clint
supposed to say to that? He could lie, of course, but she would see right through him. “I think you’re perfect for the position,” he said finally.

She slipped off her apron. In the tank top and suit skirt, she looked incredibly beautiful and feminine. Like the woman she had been before kids. The woman she still could be.

If he cooperated.

She sent him a skeptical look from beneath her lashes. “But you’re not?”

He took his tie off and unfastened another button on his shirt. “I think I’ve made it clear advertising is really not my thing.”

Her gaze focused on the open collar of his shirt. “So, if we were being completely honest with each other...” Dragging in a breath, she lifted her eyes to his once again. “You wouldn’t want to do it at all. You’d want to finish what you were already under contract for and be done with it.”

She understood him all too well.

But this wasn’t just about him.

It was about her, too.

And what she’d negotiated for them both thus far had just enabled him to pay a sizable down payment on the top-of-the-line multipurpose tractor that would turn his property back into the horse and cattle ranch it was meant to be.

So if he had to sacrifice some of what he wanted in the short run, so be it. “Of course I want to spend time with you,” he said honestly. “I want you to have a chance to promote your business and your expertise, too. Not to mention benefit financially.”

He knew how much she struggled as a single mom, so he’d do anything that he could to make her life easier. And as a consequence, give the two of them more time to spend together—so he could convince her that what they had was a lot more than a fling.

“You’re sure?”

Aware she still sensed something was off, he said, “Very.”

Clint took her in his arms. Meaning, at that moment, to simply distract. To keep her from asking any more point-blank questions that would force him either to lie or to tell the truth and hurt her feelings. Neither option was palatable. Making love to her—and cementing how far they’d come—was.

* * *

R
OSE
BARELY
HAD
time to react before Clint’s head lowered. His eyes darkened. His lips fastened over hers. And just that suddenly, all her worries fled—along with the sinking sensation she had been in this exact same situation before. When she’d been with a man who was telling her everything was fine, though deep down, her feminine intuition knew otherwise.

It was obvious that whatever reservations Clint had possessed were gone as well, replaced by the here and now of this riveting kiss. She moaned softly as he clasped her to him and deepened the kiss until it was so wild and reckless she lost her breath. Unable to turn away from such pure unleashed need, such undeniable tenderness, she went up on tiptoe and pressed her breasts against the hardness of his chest, her lower half against his.

This, she thought, was the way she had always wanted to be kissed but never had been. As if he meant to erase every bit of hurt or disappointment she had ever weathered. Passion swept through her, and she kissed him back without restraint, letting everything she felt, everything she hoped for, pour into the smoldering embrace.

Clint rocked against her. “Rose,” he rasped once, and then again. He captured her mouth and kissed her in a way that had her senses spinning and her heart soaring. “I want to make love to you...”

She’d been thinking they didn’t have time, but the possessive glint in his eyes robbed her of the will to resist.

“Then we’d better hurry,” she teased, glancing over their shoulder at the kitchen clock. “Because we’ve got exactly...thirty minutes...”

Tucking an arm beneath her knees, he carried her up the stairs and down the hall to her bedroom. “Plenty of time,” he drawled, mischief lifting the corners of his mouth.

Her heart raced as he set her down beside the bed.

Not one to delay, he had her undressed in no time flat. She managed the same. The wicked gleam in his eyes igniting all her erogenous zones, he joined her on the bed. He rolled to face her, and she could feel him, hard and ready. And then his lips were on hers in a frenzy of wanting. She trembled as he cupped her breasts, caressing the taut, aching tips. Caressed the flatness of her abdomen, the sensitive inside of her thighs, and yes, there, too. The mind-blowing intimacy of his touch, coupled with his hot, knowing kisses, had her arching against him, taking in what he gave, soaking in the heat and sturdy masculine feel of him.