Tycoon Cowboy's Baby Surprise

“Then I’ll order it. What do you want?” she asked. He noticed that her tone was all business, and he realized that while he was thinking this was the first step to renewed intimacy, she wasn’t.

“I was joking, Kin. I’ll get the drinks,” he said. “I’m ordering something to eat as well.”

“Thank you,” she said as he left the booth to go and place their order.

A good five minutes had passed before he returned to their table. He put the glasses down before retaking his seat.

“I’m sorry about overreacting about the drink. I’m a little on edge tonight,” she said.

“Planning weddings is stressful work?” he asked. He took a swallow of his beer and leaned back, stretching one arm along the back of the wooden bench.

“Sometimes. Ferrin’s such a sweetie, so she’s making my job pretty easy. But I’m working with another client who is a bit more demanding,” Kinley said.

“I never would have pictured you as a wedding planner,” Nate said. When he’d known her as a child, she’d been so rough-and-tumble. The kind of cowgirl who could do anything the boys could on the ranch. His parents had always treated his brothers and him the same way they did all the kids whose families worked on the ranch. That meant they all did chores together and they all got a horse of their own to take care of. It was a tradition that Nate had followed when he took over running the ranch from his dad a few years ago.

The Caruthers fortune derived from the cattle they ran on their property as well as oil and mineral leases they’d had for generations and the newer stud operation that was just fifteen years old. The stud farm had been Kinley’s dad’s idea for diversifying the ranch.

“I guess you don’t know me,” she said. “I like planning weddings.”

“You might be right that I don’t know certain things about you,” he said. “But I’d argue there are parts of you I know very well.”

She flushed. Her skin was so creamy and pale that any time she was aroused, angry or embarrassed it flashed in a pinkish red across her face.

“Don’t, Nate,” she said. “Please do not bring up that weekend in Vegas or our intimacy again. I really would rather your brothers and parents didn’t know about it.”

He leaned forward over the table. “There isn’t anyone here but you and me, Kin, and we both know what happened.”

“We do. And we both remember how it ended...or is that just me?”

“I already apologized for that,” he said, sitting back. Damned if it wasn’t just like a woman to keep reminding him of how he’d screwed up.

“I know. And I accepted your apology. All I meant by my comment was that we’re like oil and water—we don’t mix very well.”

He thought they’d mixed just fine. But arguing now would just get her back up more and not move them any closer to the ending he wanted for them. He knew he had to ease up, and he did. “I’m not the same man I was three years ago.”

She gave him a small smile and nodded. Then she laced her fingers together, and he noticed she wore a small thin ring on her middle finger. “Fair enough. I’m definitely not the same woman. So what’s changed with Nate Caruthers?”

* * *

Kinley knew she was stalling, but honestly she needed more time. She toyed with the lime on the side of her glass, rubbing it around the rim to distract her from the fact that Nate’s big frame dominated the corner booth. His legs were on either side of hers, the rough fabric of the denim abrading the bare skin of her legs. She tried to shift but just ended up rubbing her leg against his.

She glanced over at him to see if he’d noticed. He had.

He didn’t say anything. Instead he took a sip of his beer, and she watched the muscles of his throat work as he swallowed and then leaned back, stretching his legs out under the table, brushing them against hers again.

“I’m still doing some investment stuff, but my main focus now is running the ranch. Dad wanted to ease off on the everyday running of the Rockin’ C. And as you know, it’s a full-time job. So I stepped up,” Nate said.

The Rockin’ C was one of the largest ranches in Texas. They ran cattle, had oil, operated a stud farm and employed more than one hundred families on the property. They weren’t gentleman farmers; they were more like the Ewings of TV’s Dallas.

“Where are your folks living now?”

“Still on the property. Mom wanted a smaller house, so they built a five-bedroom ranch house out near the small lake.”

“That’s small?” she asked with a laugh.

“For her. Plus she said she wanted enough room to spoil her grandkids once we all settled down,” Nate said.

Once again Kinley felt the white-hot needle of guilt pierce through her. “When is that going to happen?”

“Not any time soon, as far as I’m concerned. Hunter is the only one who seems interested in getting serious. But after ten years of hell, I think it’s about time he had a break.”

“That stuff about him... It was really hard to watch when I was in California. I mean, there was the Hunter I grew up with and then this other guy I was seeing stories about on TV. I’m glad they finally caught the man responsible.”

“We all are. Mom spent a lot of time at St. Thomas Aquinas Church praying,” Nate said.

When he spoke about Hunter, Kinley heard the love and concern in his voice. She’d been in high school when Hunter had first been accused of murder, but all that was in the past now. And Hunter had Ferrin.

“He’s got the happy ending he deserved,” Kinley said. It gave her hope that once she came clean with Nate she’d be able to move on. Maybe keeping Penny’s paternity a secret was one of the barriers that had kept her from dating over the last few years.

But she knew it wasn’t. She knew it was her own fear of trusting a man again. Or, to be more honest, trusting her heart. She’d thought what she felt for Nate had been the beginning of something more solid, but in the end it had only been lust.

Which was raising its hotter-than-hell head once again.

“He has. How many weddings have you planned?” Nate asked. “How did you get started doing that?”

She sipped her sparkling water and took the reprieve he’d unintentionally given her. “I’ve planned close to twenty weddings. All of them high-end, destination-type affairs. I got started when I answered an ad for a personal assistant and starting working for Jacs. She had one of her planners flake out and gave me a trial run. I guess she saw something in me and decided to promote me to planner.”

“I’m not surprised she saw something in you. I’ve never known you to be a woman to back down,” Nate said. “No matter how much the outer packaging has changed over the years, that solid core of steel still remains.”

It was one of the nicest things that anyone had ever said to her. That Nate Caruthers was the one saying it made her heart heavy. “Thank you.”

“It’s okay. I should have remembered that when you called me. Instead I felt trapped, and I wasn’t ready for that. Despite the fact that we spent a weekend together, you’re not the kind of woman a man should ever be casual about.”

She didn’t know what to say to that. The fact that he hadn’t been ready to settle down gave her pause in her determination to tell him about Penny. Was he ready now? How would she know for sure?

She wanted to make things right. For Nate. For Ma Caruthers. For herself. But her duty was to Penny. And Kinley had to determine if it would be better for her daughter to never know who her father was or to know and have him disappoint her.

It was a tough call.

One that was going to take more than a sparkling water and a single conversation to figure out. She wasn’t sure if it was cowardice or not, but she decided she needed to get to know the man that Nate was today before she let him know he had a daughter.

It was the only fair thing to do for herself and Penny. And for Nate, who was still running wild, if word around town could be believed.

“I’m not sure that I was ready for anything more during that weekend in Vegas,” she admitted. “But I am definitely not as casual now.”

“Can I talk you into dinner?” he asked.

She hesitated, but she’d already said good night to Penny, so she knew her daughter wasn’t expecting her home until after bedtime. Kinley had promised to call at seven thirty and could still do so.