The Cowboy's Baby Bargain

“All those meaty little phrases you throw out. So who’re you helping down here in McMullen county?”

“Myself.”

Curious as to what kinds of problems a beautiful woman like Brooke could have, he arched a brow and waited for her to continue.

She shifted in her seat and confessed, “I’m trying to define my personal success.”

There she went again, talking that self-help stuff. The words and delivery were stiff and proper, but there was a yearning in her eyes that told him she was anything but detached. It was kind of cute in a schoolteacherish way. Of course he’d never had any teachers who looked this good.

The waitress arrived with their dinners. Brooke waited for her to leave before asking, “I don’t suppose you’ve ever had to redefine your goals?”

“Can’t say that I have. I always knew I’d be ranching.”

“Why?”

The smells wafting up from his plate made his mouth water, but it looked like his appetite would have to wait. Back home, when the food hit the table everybody shut up and dug in. He didn’t remember many of the manners his momma had tried to teach him before she’d left, but he did remember the one about waiting for the lady at the table to eat first.

“I’m the oldest son of a rancher. Texan born and bred. I’ll take over from my dad.”

“Do your brothers and sisters feel the same way?” She focused all her attention on him, ignoring the trucker-size barbecue sampler platter in front of her. Either she wanted to try every version the restaurant offered or she had a voracious appetite.

Well, there was another thought he didn’t need. Brooke’s appetite for food or anything else was none of his business. He cleared his throat and tried to remember her question.

“Brothers, three of ’em. And no. One’s in medical school, another is—was— a world champion bull rider till this year when he up and got married. Patrick’s the only one still at home.”

“So you had choices, and you chose ranching.”

Caleb traced a finger along the outside seam of his jeans. Growing up it hadn’t felt like he had choices. He’d felt trapped. It wasn’t until Amanda had tried to make him leave Crooked Creek and move to the city that he’d discovered how much he loved the ranch. But how could he explain the love of open spaces and the desire to pit himself against nature to a city gal? His ex hadn’t understood, and she’d grown up on a neighboring property.

“Sweetheart, you’d best dig in while it’s hot.”

Brooke daintily lifted a rib and nibbled on it. Her tongue peeked out to swipe a smear of sauce from her lips. She looked from the coating on her fingers to the fragile paper napkin and back.

“Lick ’em.”

“Excuse me?”

“Lick the sauce from your fingers.”

She hesitated a moment, then glanced around to see that the other patrons were doing the same. Inserting a finger in her mouth, she sucked off the sauce—one finger at a time then moved on to the next rib.

Oh man. Watching the woman eat was an erotic experience. He probably would’ve been better off to let her keep talking. He swallowed hard, amazed that she had him so distracted he could barely taste his food. “What about you? How do you go about redefining yourself? Sounds painful.”

She smiled. “It can be. The journey of self-discovery is always a bumpy road.”

“Not interested in whatever it is your parents do?”

She shuddered. “No. Both are tenured college professors. They write endless theses that no one other than their colleagues can understand. It doesn’t matter how brilliant their work is because so few read it. I want to reach masses of people and help them fulfill their potential.”

He shifted in his seat. That was the same argument his ex had used. She’d wanted him to fulfill his potential by running for office in the county cattlemen’s association, then on the state level. She’d even talked about him being the next Texan president, for crying out loud. All the while she planned to paint her nails, spend his money and play queen of the castle. Problem was Crooked Creek wasn’t any damned castle, and it had taken her less than two years to blow through every dime his family had saved. Not only had his brother Brand lost his college fund, but they’d had to sell a piece of the ranch to keep from losing the whole thing.

“Does most of your family live nearby?” She nibbled and licked. He had to quit watching her and focus on his own dinner if he wanted to be able to string sentences together coherently.

“All but Cort, the youngest. He’s in North Carolina.”

“You have roots.” She sounded envious. “I’m working on that.”

The band returned as the waitress brought Brooke’s dessert.

He hated to see the band come back, but he sure was glad the music made it difficult for her to ask her probing questions. The lead singer warbled out a song about a man falling in love and knowing he’d screw it up because he’d done so with every other relationship in his life. Caleb tried to tune it out. It hit a little too close to home. His own relationships tended to be brief because most women didn’t want to play second fiddle to ten thousand acres of dirt and four-legged critters. It was only a matter of time before he missed some so-called important date because one of his animals got itself in trouble.

Brooke closed her lips around a forkful of some chocolate concoction, closed her eyes and moaned softly. He wasn’t a man prone to imagining things, but his mind immediately connected that sweet sound with sex. Would Brooke look that delirious with a man inside her? Would she close her eyes and tilt back her head, baring her throat to her lover’s mouth the way she did now? His gaze traced the slender line of pale skin, finding the pulse beating steadily at the base. His groin throbbed in tandem. He drained his glass of iced tea, hoping the chilled liquid would cool him off.

Brooke swallowed. The pink tip of her tongue appeared and stole a crumb from the corner of her lips. “You should try this. It’s positively sinful.”

Yep, sin was what he was thinking about—her mouth with something besides that fork in it.

“Sweetheart, a man would be a fool to get between you and your chocolate. You go right ahead and finish every last bite.” And torture him to death doing it.

She scooped up a portion and offered it to him. “Try it. I promise you’ve never tasted anything this good.”

Caleb studied her deep green eyes and wondered if she were making a pass. And if he wanted her to be. It didn’t seem likely. There was nothing overtly flirtatious about her, but he was so out of practice he could be missing the obvious.

It was no skin off his knuckles if the lady wanted to go slumming. He decided to test her and himself. It wasn’t like he had anywhere to be tonight. There were worse ways to pass the midnight hours than in the arms of a beautiful woman—especially one only passing through town. No one would be the wiser if they spent a little time together.

He cupped his hand over hers on the fork and guided the dessert toward his mouth without breaking eye contact. The rich flavor exploded on his tongue. He let his gaze drop to her mouth and imagined tasting the chocolate from her tongue instead of her fork.

Brooke’s lips parted on an indrawn breath and her hand trembled within his. When he lifted his gaze to hers again something dark and sultry sparked in her eyes.

His heart—among other things—thudded painfully.

She snatched back the fork, dropped it on the table and looked away. The pulse in her throat fluttered wildly. He didn’t miss the nervous way she wet her lips or perched on the edge of her seat as if she were considering making a run for it.

At least the attraction wasn’t one-sided.

“Are they two-stepping?” She nodded toward the shuffling couple closest to them. Her breathless voice was about the sexiest thing he’d ever heard.

He jerked his gaze away from the way her rapid breathing shifted her silk shirt across her breasts and eyed the couple plastered close enough to tangle belt buckles. “Nope.”

“What do you call it then?”

“Vertical sex.”

Brooke’s pink lips dropped open. She blushed and sat back in her chair. She continued watching the other dancers until the color in her cheeks evened out. “Can we dance now?”

“Now’s as good a time as any.” He hoped he could control himself.

Caleb pulled her onto the floor and into his arms. She was the perfect height to tuck her head beneath his chin if he were so inclined, but her body with its soft, sexy curves, had about as much give as a new fence post. “Loosen up. Two quick steps, two slow steps. Backwards. Slide your feet.”