A Baby Under the Tree

His only regret had been slipping out of her bed at nearly five in the morning and leaving a note, which might have cheapened the whole thing.

Last night was amazing, he’d written. You were a gift I didn’t deserve, and one I’ll always cherish.

And while he’d struggled to choose the right words, he’d meant every one of them.

He supposed he could try to find her again. His detective skills and his connections wouldn’t make it too hard. But Jillian wasn’t the kind of woman who’d fit into Shane’s life, whether it was in Houston or Brighton Valley.

He’d already gone through one star-crossed relationship that he shouldn’t have let get off the ground, and he’d lost his son because of it.

No, he’d just have to let well enough alone. After all, if something between them was meant to be, then he’d run into her again. No need for him to chase after something that was sure to crash and burn.

But that didn’t mean he wasn’t sorely tempted to look her up in Houston. He’d love to spend one more night together.

They might end the evening in a blaze of glory, but what a way to go…?.

Chapter Three

In spite of knowing their time together had been a one-shot deal, Shane hadn’t been able to get Jillian out of his mind.

Several times he’d actually thought seriously about looking her up in Houston. She hadn’t given him a lot to go on, but he still had a few contacts at the police department who’d be able to help him out. Yet when push came to shove, he’d decided to let well enough alone.

That is, until he was urged to attend his niece’s first communion in Houston on Sunday morning. After he’d missed Billy’s birthday party a while back and created such a stir within the family, he’d decided to make a showing this time, even though he’d rather be anywhere than in a church on Sunday morning, especially if it required a confession.

It’s not that he had some huge sin hanging over his head, but he wasn’t ready to make things right with God when he still blamed the Big Guy Upstairs for allowing Joey to die. But he supposed he’d deal with that tomorrow morning.

Right now, he was headed to the city a day early, determined to see Jillian while he was there. Through his connections, he’d gotten her address just minutes ago: 237 Bluebonnet Court, apartment 16.

It had been exactly six weeks and a day since they’d met that magical evening in Houston, but the memory was still as strong and vivid as if it had only been yesterday.

After they’d split the bill that evening, Shane had insisted on being the one to leave a generous tip for the wait staff. Then he’d walked with her to The Rio, the hotel lounge that provided music and high-priced drinks to some of Houston’s more exclusive crowd.

Shane wasn’t used to hanging out at places like that, and he knew he’d been underdressed, but he’d been with Jillian, who belonged to that world.

“The music sounds good,” she’d said.

At that point, being with her would make anything sound good. But she’d been right. The band was great.

As they’d made their way toward an empty table near the dance floor, Shane had placed his hand on the small of her back, claiming her in front of all the rich, fancy folks who’d gathered for an after-dinner drink.

She’d leaned against him and slid her arm around his waist in a move that seemed so natural, so right, that he wanted to hang on tight and never let go.

Then the music, something soft and slow, began to play and he hadn’t been able to do anything other than to pull her into his embrace and dance cheek to cheek. As they’d swayed to a love song, as he’d inhaled her tropical scent, she’d melded into him as though they’d been made to dance with each other for the rest of their lives.

Something powerful had surged between them, something hot, soul stirring and arousing.

He’d taken her hand and brushed his lips across her wrist. As she’d looked at him, her lips parting, she’d gripped his shoulder as though her knees would have buckled if she hadn’t.

And that’s when he’d kissed her. Right there in the middle of that crowded dance floor.

As their lips parted, his tongue had sought hers, and they were swept away to some carnal place, where the music stopped and the room grew silent. At least, he could have sworn it had happened that way.

For a moment, he’d forgotten where they were, who they were. All he’d been aware of was a raging desire that promised to bring about something he’d never experienced before.

Then the music really did stop, and he’d come to his senses, albeit reluctantly. As he broke the kiss, he’d continued to hold Jillian tight, and with his lips resting near her temple, he’d confessed, “I don’t normally do things like this.”

“Neither do I.”

As they’d slowly stepped apart, she’d closed her eyes and, after taking a deep breath, said, “I…uh…have a room upstairs.”

Shane hadn’t been sure he’d heard right or if he’d somehow come to the wrong conclusion, so he’d waited a beat, hoping she’d spell it out for him. Then she did just that by taking his hand and leading him out of The Rio and to the elevators.

As the memory rolled on, just as it did each time a specific clip from that night began to play in his mind, he tried his best to shake it off. But damn. What an amazing evening that had been.

If truth be told, he’d been more than a little sorry that it had ended before he’d gotten a chance to see if a long-distance relationship between two people with nothing in common but great sex could actually work.

Now, as he gripped the steering wheel of his pickup and watched the street signs for Bluebonnet Court, the heated memory still remained front and center in his mind.

Of course, seeing her again didn’t mean he was interested in starting a relationship. It was just a matter of satisfying his curiosity.

Would Jillian be glad to see him? Had she, too, found it impossible to forget all they’d shared that night?

Shane certainly hoped so. He’d just have to take things one step at a time.

As he turned and drove down the tree-lined street and approached a modest apartment complex, he wondered if the address he’d found for her was wrong. Jillian had been dressed to the nines and sporting diamonds when they’d met, and this neighborhood didn’t seem like the part of town that would suit her taste or her designer pocketbook.

But there was only one way to find out.

He parked his truck in one of the spaces available for guests, then made his way to Jillian’s apartment, hoping she was home.

And that she’d be glad to see him.

When the doorbell sounded, Jillian had been sitting on the sofa, reading over her college schedule. She hadn’t been expecting company, and since she hadn’t found time to meet any of the neighbors, she wasn’t sure who it could be.

She had a feeling it might be her grandmother, though. Ever since Jillian had moved into the apartment, Gram had been stopping by with one surprise or another, such as kitchen gadgets, household necessities and decorator items.

Yesterday, she’d brought a framed watercolor print that she’d picked up at a garage sale, which was now hanging on the living room wall. That particular piece of art was a far cry from the expensive paintings and sculptures that had adorned the various homes Jillian had once shared with Thomas, but it reflected her new, simple lifestyle.

During the course of her marriage, Jillian had tried so hard to do everything Thomas and his family had expected her to do that she’d almost forgotten who she really was. So she was determined to reclaim herself and become the woman she should have been before Thomas Wilkes had come along. And creating a home for herself, decorated to her own taste and comfort, was part of the process.

Expecting to see Gram with another surprise in her arms, Jillian swung open the door with a smile. But when she spotted Shane Hollister, the smile faded and surprise took its place.

The cowboy was just as handsome as she remembered, maybe more so. And his smile, which was both boyish and shy, sent her senses reeling.

“I would have called first, but I didn’t have your number.” He lifted the brim of his hat with an index finger.

He hadn’t had her address, either, but she was so stunned to see him again, so mesmerized by his familiar, musky scent, that she couldn’t seem to find the words to respond or to question him.

But her gaze was hard at work, checking him out and soaking him in. He’d shaved, which had softened his rugged edge a bit, but he still wore a Stetson, jeans and boots—clearly a cowboy through and through.