Claiming The Cowboy's Heart

His reply wasn’t at all what she’d expected, and it took Macy a moment to wrap her head around it and decide how to respond to it—and him.

She was undeniably flattered. Liam Gilmore wasn’t at all hard to look at, and he was built like the rancher she knew he’d been before he bought the old Stagecoach Inn. And she admittedly felt a stir of something unexpected whenever she was near him, but she hadn’t let that dissuade her from going after the job she wanted, because she knew that a man like Liam Gilmore would never be interested in a woman whose first, second and third priorities were her children.

“I fail to see how that’s relevant to my ability to do the job you need done,” she finally said.

“You don’t think the attraction might make our working relationship a little…uncomfortable?”

“Not at all,” she assured him. “Because I have no doubt that you want this venture to succeed, and that requires hiring the right person for the right job. Aside from that, an initial feeling of attraction is always based on superficial criteria, and once you get to know me, you’ll realize I’m not your type.”

He scowled. “Why does everyone keep saying that?”

“While I must admit to some curiosity about the ‘everyone’ else who might have said the same thing, the reason is simple,” she said. “Because I’d guess that someone known around town as ‘Love ’em and Leave ’em Liam’ is only looking for a good time and—”

“That nickname isn’t just ridiculous, it’s completely inaccurate,” he interjected.

She ignored his interruption to finish making her point: “And, as a single mom, I don’t have time for extracurricular activities of any kind right now.”

* * *

Liam took an actual physical step backward, a subconscious retreat.

“You have a kid?”

Macy’s lips curved in a wry smile. “Yeah, I figured my revelation would have that effect.”

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I just… I didn’t know.”

“Like I said—not your type,” she reminded him.

And she was right.

Everyone was right.

Because as much as he adored his niece—and he did—he wasn’t willing to play father to some other guy’s kid.

Not again.

He looked at Macy, dressed for another shift at Diggers’ in a different short skirt and low-cut top, and couldn’t help but remark, “You sure as heck don’t look like anyone’s mother.”

She smiled at that. “Thanks, I think. But I don’t want platitudes—I want a job. I want the manager’s job,” she clarified. “I don’t mind waiting tables at Diggers’, but the late hours mean that I miss the bedtime routine with my kids almost every night.”

“Kids?” he echoed, surprised to learn that she had more than one.

She nodded.

“How many?”

“Three,” she admitted. “They’re eight months old.”

He waited for her to provide the ages of her other two children, then comprehension dawned. “Triplets?”

She nodded again.

“Wow.”

“Yeah, that was pretty much my reaction when the doctor told me—although I might have added a few NSFW adjectives.”

“And the dad?” he wondered. “I imagine he was shocked, too.”

“I’m not sure it’s appropriate to ask a prospective employee about her personal relationships,” she noted. “But since there are no secrets in this town, I’ll tell you that he’s not in the picture.”

“You’re right—it was an inappropriate question,” he acknowledged.

Also, Macy’s relationship with the father of her babies was irrelevant. She might be the sexiest single mom he’d ever met, but he had less than zero interest in being the “dad” who transformed the equation of “mom plus three kids” into “family.”

“I guess the only question left to ask is—when can you start?”

Chapter Four (#u5e53afec-fd72-52a5-8095-b5f603e32506)

The smile that curved Macy’s lips illuminated her whole face. “I’ve got the job?”

Liam nodded, though he worried that his heart seemed to fill with joy just to know that she was happy. Clearly the wayward organ hadn’t received the message from his brain that his new manager was a single mom or it would be erecting impenetrable shields.

“I’d have to be a fool to hire anyone else,” he said.

And from a business perspective, it was absolutely true.

From a personal perspective, it might turn out that he was just as big a fool to hire her.

During their tour of the inn a few days earlier, he’d been driven to distraction by her nearness. And he’d wanted to move nearer, so that he was close enough to touch her—or even kiss her. Would her skin feel as soft as it looked? Would her lips taste as sweet as he imagined?

“A lot of people think you’re foolish to reopen the hotel,” she noted.

Her comment dragged him out of his fantasy and back to the present.

“I guess it’s lucky for you that I didn’t listen to those people.”

“I guess it is,” she agreed. “But in response to your earlier question, I can start whenever you need me.”

“Two weeks ago?”

She chuckled softly. “Are you running behind schedule on a few things?”

“A few,” he acknowledged.

“Since I have to go so I’m not running behind schedule for my shift at Diggers’ tonight, why don’t you fill me in on Monday morning?”

He nodded. “That works for me.”