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Authors: Tina Leonard

BOOK: The Cowboy's Triplets
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“Oh, hell. That means Judah will have to find a bride!” Darla pulled out some veils that looked like they'd seen better days. “These are some of last season's leftovers that could neither be sold nor returned. We're not going to do a whole lot of this kind of vendor business. Besides, these are not magical.” She put the veils back away. “What am I going to do?”

Jackie agreed; the veils were not “magical.” “We'll make better selections, although it may take us some time to develop our own vendor relationships.”

“I meant about Judah.”

Jackie's gaze flew to Darla's. “You're serious, aren't you? You really are crazy about him.” She looked into her friend's eyes, seeing the worry there. “You're in love with him!”

Darla nodded. “Always have been.”

Jackie thought for a minute. “Well, if one of them has to get married,” she said thoughtfully, “it could be Judah.”

“Newsflash—he's never knocked on my door.”

Jackie couldn't bear the look on her friend's face, a cross between resigned and hopeless. “Why don't you ask him out?”

“No. Didn't you just say that Callahan men have a strange gene that makes them…strange? Who knows how he might take a woman making the first move?”

“It's not a first move. Judah could use a wife. Technically, it could be considered a date with his destiny.”

Darla shook her head. “We focus on making you realize that you can't turn down a hot cowboy like Pete. Not when you're having his baby. You have to think of that, Jackie.”

And then it hit her. Hard, like a snowball in the face: From now on, she was thinking for two.

 

J
ACKIE AND
D
ARLA FINISHED
going through the store's stock, examining every cabinet and drawer, checking out anything that needed to be repaired before they signed the final paperwork to take over the building and the business. “Everything feels very organized,” Jackie said.

Darla nodded. “I agree.”

The shop bell rang. Pete walked in, despite the Closed sign on the door, and Jackie's heart fell into her boots.

“Hello, Pete Callahan!” Darla said, cheery as all get out. “What's that you're carrying? A little friend?”

Pete set the black-and-white puppy on the counter. “Mr. Dearborn's wife, Jane, called about a litter of puppies. This is Fanny, a border collie. She's looking for a wedding shop to live in. That's what she told me, anyway.”

Jackie picked up the puppy, cuddling her. “Hello, Fanny.”

“I'm going to run grab a cup of coffee. Either of you want anything?” Darla asked, slipping on her down jacket.

“No, thanks,” Pete said, and Jackie shook her head.

“Be back in a jiffy,” Darla said.

“Pete,” Jackie said when the door closed behind Darla, “what are you doing here?” She held Fanny just under her chin for support and comfort, the fat wiggly puppy
body comforting. Jackie's eyes drank in the tall cowboy, even though she'd just seen him this morning.

Pete was too big, too manly, to be in a bridal shop surrounded by white gowns. The shop seemed smaller with him in it, as though the walls had shrunk. Jackie wanted to put the puppy down and reach for Pete instead, but she couldn't. She'd broken up with him. Hugging him, holding him now, wasn't fair to either of them.

“I stopped by to see your folks. They told me you were here.” Dark-blue eyes stared at her, leaving so much unsaid.

Jackie hesitated, before handing the puppy back to Pete. He put the small creature inside his suede jacket, and Fanny seemed delighted to be up against his broad chest. Jackie forced her gaze back up to Pete's face. “You went to my parents' house?”

He shrugged. “I went by your house first. When you weren't there, I decided to check with your folks.”

In the five years that they'd been seeing each other on Saturday nights, Jackie had never taken Pete over to her parents'. “They don't know about the baby yet.”

“I figured as much. I didn't bring it up.” He studied her for a moment. “Consider Fanny a bribe.”

“A bribe?” Jackie looked at the brown-eyed puppy peering out over the jacket zipper. “For what?”

“Just think about making a family with me.” Pete took her hand. “We need to be together.”

She blinked. “Saturday-night fun doesn't translate into wedded bliss.”

“I'm good with the sneak peek I got.”

He grinned at her, slow and sexy and teasing, and Jackie's heart jumped. From the other side of the store, she could practically hear the magic wedding gown singing a siren's song of temptation.

But then what? What happened after the magical gown and the fairy-tale wedding? They'd never even mentioned
feelings
to each other. Never.

Jackie swallowed, telling herself to ignore the gown—and Pete.

“I brought you something else,” Pete said.

He set a pair of the tiniest western boots Jackie had ever seen on the counter. Picking one up, she studied the hand-sewn leather.

“You're crazy, Pete Callahan. You don't even know if we're having a boy or a girl.”

“They're unisex as far as I'm concerned.”

Jackie couldn't help laughing. “I don't want these. I'll keep Fanny, though not as a bribe. Just because she's a sweetheart. I've always wanted a dog.” She ran a finger along the puppy's nose, and Fanny rewarded her for the affection by trying to nibble on her finger. “I'll have to ask Darla if you can be our store pooch, Fanny.”

Pete's mouth twisted in a wry grin. “Go out on a date with me, Jackie.”

“No. No dating. We didn't for five years. No reason to start now.”

He put a finger on her chin, pulling her close over the puppy's head, and gave her a long kiss. “There's several reasons. I'm going to marry you, Jackie Samuels. You might as well accept that.”

She pulled away, wishing he'd kept kissing her instead of talking. “Pete, getting married at this time runs counter to everything I've ever believed a marriage should be about.”

He took her hand, giving it a quick brush against his lips. Jackie couldn't take her eyes off his lips as they moved across her skin. “I promise to make love to you more than just on Saturday nights, Jackie, if that's what's
worrying you. I promise to fit in an occasional Tuesday as well.”

She turned away, not wanting to laugh. “Pete, it's not funny.”

“Okay.” He turned her back around. “I'm leaving now. I'm taking Fanny with me, because you're too busy for this wild girl at the moment. What time are you going to be home tonight?”

“We'll finish up around four. I should be home at five. Why?” Jackie didn't trust the gleam in Pete's eyes.

“Expect me to be waiting for you at your house. I'm going to have dinner ready for you, a fire in the fireplace and probably some romance on the side. If you're lucky.”

“I'm not sleeping with you, Pete.” She put a hard tone in her voice, so he would know that part of their lives was over.

“Oh, don't worry, Jackie. Like you always said, why should you buy the steer if you get the steak for free?” Pete gave her a devilish grin. “I'm all about the purchase now, so you're just going to have to do without, my sweet.”

Jackie put her hands on her hips. “That's fine.”
I'll try to sit on the sofa primly and act like I'm not lusting after your big gorgeous body, you ape.
“Just so we have the rules straight.”

He leaned over, giving her a quick kiss before she could protest. “The rules are straight. I expect you to stick to them.”

“Pete Callahan, don't try to act like I was only after your body.”

“Weren't you? I could have sworn you were always more than happy to get me naked, Jackie Samuels.”

She gasped, outraged at his cockiness, although he
was right. He just didn't have to rub it in, the louse. Pete laughed, turning to walk from the store. Jackie considered throwing something at him, but the only thing close enough was a veil, which wouldn't have quite the effect she wanted.

He stopped in front of the magic wedding dress, considering it through its clear plastic casing. “This would look beautiful on you,” he said. “You should think about it before my son starts making you plump.” He winked, knowing her blood was now on full boil, and waved Fanny's paw at her before leaving.

Jackie let out her breath, wishing she had thrown something, anything—and realizing she wished it was tonight already, when she'd be seeing Pete again.

Bad.
Oh, that was a very bad sign. He was taking over her life, and she was letting him, as though they were already halfway to the altar, full speed ahead and never mind the reasons she knew better than to say yes to him.

Then her gaze lit on the tiny brown boots Pete had left on the counter. How long had she waited for Pete to show her that he cared? How many years had she hoped their relationship would turn into something?

Now it was—and it felt all wrong.

Baby boots—not booties. Boots. Already planning for a rodeo rider, a cowboy, a Callahan.

Jackie shook her head.
Forget about it, bud. I'm not raising a heartbreaker like you.

Chapter Eight

The solution was simple. Jackie knew it as soon as she saw Judah striding across the town square. If Jackie could get Judah to ask Darla out, and things happened between them—what couldn't happen with a sexy male like Judah, and a smart woman like Darla?—then Pete would be relieved of the pressure to get married.

She'd be off the hook. All this rush-rush-hurry-hurry Pete would go away. They could relax, think about how they wanted to be parents apart from each other.

“Judah!” Jackie waved at the handsome cowboy, getting his attention before any of the females who'd suddenly appeared in the square could.

“Hi, Jackie.” Judah grinned at her, walked toward her with that loose-hipped Callahan saunter. Pete walked just like that, and it never failed to make her knees weak.

“Listen, Judah.” Jackie hesitated, trying to formulate a quick plan now that the object of her manipulation was in front of her. What would Fiona do? “Darla had a date tonight with a guy from out of town. She bought a new dress and everything. The loser stood her up.”

Judah's gaze flashed with sympathy. “His loss.”

Jackie smiled at him. “I hate for her to sit at home tonight when she was planning on going into Santa Fe.”

“Does she like this guy?”

“Oh, no,” Jackie said, her gaze honest and wide. “But I think he's crazy about her, and you know Darla. Never wants to hurt anyone's feelings.”

“That's true,” Judah murmured. “I wish I could help, but she wouldn't want to go out with me.”

Jackie blinked. “Why do you think that?”

He shrugged, his grin sheepish. “Every man in this town has asked her out. She always says no. I wouldn't be any different.”

Jackie didn't dare say
oh, but you would!
She wrinkled her nose, wishing she could do better at the art of chicanery, but she was no Fiona. No one was. She wasn't artful and sly, giving people that little push they needed to do whatever they really wanted to do in the first place. “That's too bad,” Jackie murmured. “I was hoping you had some free time.”

“Oh, I've got time. There's nothing to do around our place. We're just waiting out Sam's wedding.”

Jackie stared up at Judah. “Sam's…wedding?”

“Sure.” He grinned. “He's hot into planning the biggest shindig Diablo has ever seen. He'll probably be bringing a bride to you to fit for a gown.” Judah winked at her. “Make it a doozy, okay?”

“A doozy?”

“Expensive. Eye-popping. One that will be talked about for days.”

Suspicion flared inside her. “Judah Callahan, are you setting up your little brother?”

Judah laughed. “I'd never do that.”

Only one of them had to get married. If Sam was going to do it, then Judah might stay free long enough for her to figure out how to convince him that the only reason Darla was turning down male companionship was because she was waiting for him.

Honestly.
Men were blind.

“And Pete doesn't have to get married,” she murmured, not realizing she'd spoken.

“Pete? Nah. He'll never marry. Unless it's you,” Judah said, giving her chin a little cuff. “And a little birdie told me you weren't in the mood for marriage.”

“The birdie was smart.” She frowned. Why was Pete telling her he was going to marry her if Sam was going to be the fall guy for the family? “Will Sam move away after he gets married?”

“No. He'll live at Rancho Diablo, just like always.”

“What about the rest of you?” Her curiosity was killing her.

“We'll look for wives.”

That didn't sound good. And Judah didn't look all that unhappy about the prospect. “Why the sudden matrimonial urge infecting you men?”

Judah laughed. “Whichever one of us has the biggest family gets the ranch. The race is on for all of us.”

Jackie stiffened. Pete had left out that little detail. Pete was competing with his brothers, as if he was in a rodeo, and Pete had a head start on Sam because she was already pregnant.

“That rat,” she said. “That lowdown, no good rat!”

Judah grinned. “You must be talking about Pete.”

“I—” She hesitated, before realization hit her. “If you're telling me this, you're not exactly keeping it a secret.”

He shrugged. “No reason to. It's best to toot your own horn if you're selling something, right?”

Every female within a hundred miles was going to set her cap for a Callahan cowboy, including Pete.

It shouldn't matter. Nothing had changed between
her and Pete—no matter what that stubborn cowboy thought.

“Judah,” Jackie said, inspiration hitting her in breathtaking fashion. “How would you like to come to dinner tonight?”

He raised a brow. “What's cooking?”

“Not what. Whom. Your brother,” she said sweetly. “And Darla will be there.” She hoped Darla didn't already have dinner plans. But having extra people around would foil Pete's plan to press her about marriage. She wanted no part of the Callahan marriage derby.

“Sure,” he said, “I'd love to watch my brother slave over a stove.”

“Great. See you around five.”

He grinned. “Thanks.”

“Not at all. It'll be fun.”

Maybe it wouldn't be fun for Pete, but it was going to be fun to watch him stew. “I'm turning into Fiona,” she told her friend when Darla sailed back into the bridal shop with her coffee.

“Is that a good thing?” Darla asked.

Jackie looked at the magic wedding gown, still hanging on its hook, and thought how wonderful it would look on her friend. Clearly the wrong signals were being sent between Darla and Judah, a problem easily fixed by a casual dinner among friends. “We'll find out,” Jackie said. “Darla, I think I'll have a small dinner gathering tonight to celebrate our new business venture. Do you have plans?”

“I'm free,” Darla said. “I'll bring dessert.”

Jackie smiled. “Just bring yourself.”

 

P
ETE HAD PLANS—BIG PLANS
. He'd cooked up a storm, a romantic meal that would impress even the most re
luctant of women. And he hadn't stopped there. Jackie's sofa, the scene of so many of their wonderful nights watching television, was sprinkled with red rose petals. There were candles glowing on the table. And the pièce de résistance—him. He'd found a tux and had himself suited up like a waiter. He planned to serve her like a princess, shower her with attention and spoiling and everything her heart could possibly desire.

He had on his lucky boxers, too.

“Lucky, lucky.” He took Fanny out of the crate he'd put in Jackie's living room, not far from the television, and carried the puppy outside for a fast piddle. Absolutely nothing was going to destroy his quiet evening with Jackie. She needed to focus solely on him—the new him.

So he wasn't particularly pleased when Judah's truck came to a halt at the top of the driveway. Fanny gave a tiny yap, and gamboled toward the newcomer.

“Wow,” Judah said, slamming his truck door, “you look like a dude.”

Pete bristled. “I do not look like a dude. Why are you carrying flowers?” He glared at the pink roses Judah was waving around like he was some kind of prince. “Why are you here?”

“Jackie invited me to dinner.” Judah grinned. “A gentleman always brings flowers. Hope you did, bro.”

Pete thought about the petals he'd strewn around the living room. After the dude comment about his tux, Judah was really going to give him the business about petals. He was slightly relieved when Darla pulled up in her truck. Maybe he could get the two of them to shove off before Jackie got home from work. He planned on cooking for her—grilled steaks, mashed potatoes and toasted French bread slathered in butter—then
massaging her feet. Her toes were especially sensitive, foolproof for relaxing her. Relaxation was key for getting into her bed, a place he intended them to be for the rest of their lives—no more selected evenings. Bed was the place he could help her see things his way. Pete was pretty sure he did his best communicating in bed. “Hi, Darla,” Pete said, before realizing she carried some kind of pie.

Pie was good, but not today, because it might mean Darla was coming to dinner. He glanced at Judah, who was gazing at Darla, apparently too thunderstruck to speak.

Dork.
Pete looked back at Darla, who was, he had to admit, a tall, hot, golden blonde who would have fitted right in someplace warmer than Diablo, someplace she could live full-time in a bikini. “Why are you bringing Jackie a pie?” he asked, hoping he'd missed some really good reason Darla would be showing up here.

“For dessert, silly,” she said, handing it to him. “Jackie mentioned you Callahans love blackberry pie, and I might just tell you that these blackberries come from Jane Dearborn's specially frozen stock.”

He didn't give a hoot at the moment about Jane Dearborn's coveted blackberries that she painstakingly froze every May. He was about to ask
why the hell are you handing it to me?
when three more vehicles pulled up in Jackie's drive. All his brothers hopped out, along with Judge Julie Jenkins, Fiona and Burke, and all were bearing covered casseroles or some kind of food item. If his eyes weren't deceiving him, Sabrina McKinley had also managed to snag an invite.

Everyone was here but Jackie.

“That little minx,” he muttered under his breath. She'd
outfoxed him. She was intent upon keeping every wall between them she could construct.

“Hey, Pete,” people said as they filed past him carrying crockery and pot holders and other contraptions used for potluck meals. “Nice monkey suit. You the waiter tonight?” was asked by more than one person. With one last glance toward the road, he went inside to find Darla. “Where's Jackie?”

“Closing up the shop. She said she'd be here soon.” Darla glanced at the rose petals strewn everywhere. “How nice of you to have a celebration for our new store, Pete.”

“Celebr—” He forced a smile. “Happy to do it.”

“The rose petals are a great touch.”

He glanced to see if she was ribbing him. She appeared to be paying him the first sincere compliment he'd gotten beyond the monkey suit and dude comments. “Thanks.” He couldn't be rude now that he was apparently hosting a reception. “I'd probably better go check the kitchen and make sure my apelike brothers aren't ransacking it.”

Darla smiled, waving a wineglass at him. “Bye.”

He headed into the kitchen where it looked like Aunt Fiona and Burke were managing KP, plugging in casseroles and sorting paper plates someone had thoughtfully brought. Sabrina was chatting with Julie, and his brothers looked like stuffed scarecrows incapable of conversation. “At least
talk
to the humans with the female equipment,” he muttered to the clump of men that were his brothers, although right now was an inopportune time for them to be needy. “If you're going to bag a female, you have to somehow sneak up on them.”

Sam grinned. “Is that what you've done with Jackie?”

“Hell, no. I haven't had a chance to do anything yet.” He took a deep breath, reminding himself that it wasn't his brothers' fault they'd wrecked his carefully laid plans for the evening. No, all the blame could be placed at Jackie's door. “Go at least send out a mating call,” he advised them as he spied Jackie making her way up the sidewalk.

Before any one else could go greet her, he met her at the door. “Oh, no, you don't,” he said, taking her by the arm and dragging her over to a secluded spot behind a massive trellis covered in winter-dead leaves. “You pulled a fast one on me.”

“Did I?”

She looked up at him, her dark eyes innocent. He could tell she was having an inner giggle at his expense. He vowed to kiss her later until she was very sorry for trying to be such a smartypants. “Yes, you did. And I want you to know that I've got your number now, little lady. I won't be fooled so easily next time.”

“Pete,” Jackie said, and he raised a brow.

“Apology accepted,” he said, “now shut up and kiss me.”

“That's not—”

He stopped whatever she was going to say by claiming her lips. Pulling her up close, he kissed her until she was breathless, his heart hammering like a thousand anvils being beaten inside his chest.

Then he pushed her away. She stared at him, her fingertips pressed against her lips.

“Now, you go inside and make a plate for me,” Pete said, “and remember, I've got my eye on you.”

“Maybe that's not what I want.” She raised her chin
at him, and he laughed, giving her a gentle pat on the bottom.

“Jackie, one thing I know about you is that you like me. You liked me well enough to have me on your sofa every Saturday night for the past five years. Nothing changed except you got pregnant, and now you have to somehow figure out how to get me to the altar.”

He kissed her lips when they parted in outrage.

“It's okay,” he said, “it might not be as hard as you think to get me there.”

Then he kissed her once more for good measure, a sweeping kiss, possessing her mouth with his tongue, just to remind her how much she liked it when he carried her into her bedroom on Saturday nights.

 

T
HE NIGHT DID NOT GO
as Jackie had planned, and she had no one to blame but herself. She felt like a heel for destroying Pete's dinner plans, especially after she saw all the rose petals on the floor and sofa. She'd sent a guilt-ridden glance his way, then told herself to get a spine. He'd forced her to have this dinner, and she'd warned him she didn't want to rely on her pregnancy as a reason to reel him in.

Pete was still full of typical Callahan bravado, acting as though the tux was part of the night's entertainment. Then when Fiona, fun-meister extraordinaire, pulled out Twister for “all the young folks to play,” Pete had thrown himself into the game despite the tux.

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