Expecting The Rancher's Baby?

Houston was kind of surprised to see Jill standing there, a blue canvas bag hanging over her shoulder, a larger suitcase at her feet and a ticked-off look on her face. She struck him as one of those organized people, and she probably didn’t appreciate the fact he was ten minutes late for the rendezvous.

“Not much on punctuality?” she said as he approached her, confirming his suspicions.

“Sorry,” he muttered. “I overslept.”

“I didn’t sleep at all.”

She’d said it like that was his fault. “Why not?”

“Aside from having to turn in my rental car, I kept rolling your offer around in my mind, weighing the pros and cons. Instant insomnia.”

No shock there. “Fair enough. Now follow me.”

After picking up her suitcase, Houston escorted Jill out of the lobby to the black limo waiting at the curb. The driver opened the rear door and took the suitcase while Jill climbed inside. She claimed a spot on the lengthy seat on the far side of the limo, while he sat opposite her to maintain a wide berth between them. Otherwise he’d be battling the urge to coax her down onto the gray leather.

Like she’d be open to that. And he sure as hell didn’t understand why he’d suddenly become so damn attracted to a woman who’d been a burr in his butt for two years. Maybe it was just the challenge and the chase. Maybe he’d gone too long without female attention. Maybe it was those dimples and that shiny auburn hair and the way that peach-colored T-shirt enhanced her finer attributes. And damn she smelled good, like the lavender his stepmom, Jen, planted everywhere she could find a scrap of dirt. Jillian’s finer qualities, coupled with her no-BS attitude, presented a mighty fine package. He could so take her on one, hot ride...

“Nice ride,” she said, breaking through his fantasies.

“Only the best. The bar’s fully stocked if you want a drink.”

“No, thanks. When I drink, which is extremely rare, I don’t ever do so before seven.”

He could use a shot of whiskey, but he’d refrain in order to maintain some control over his libido. “Did you have any lunch?”

“I grabbed a sandwich a couple of hours ago.”

When she flipped that thick hair over one shoulder, he wanted to grab a cab and get out of there before he forgot his manners. “We’ll have dinner with the family tonight,” he said.“That would be a welcome change of pace. I tend to have a lot of fast food.”

“I hear you. Nothing better than a home-cooked meal.”

“I agree,” she said before glancing out the window.

Houston still couldn’t quite get a grip on the fact she’d agreed to accompany him in light of all her earlier arguments against it. He sensed Jill might be questioning that decision when she shifted and turned her attention onto the smoky glass partition separating the front from the back. The conversation died during the twenty-minute drive to the private airport and didn’t resume even when they boarded the D Bar C corporate jet.

They settled into the beige leather seats kitty-corner from each other in the main cabin near the onboard bar. Jill stared out the window without speaking, leading Houston to wonder why she would find a hangar so damn interesting.

He snapped his seat belt closed and cleared his throat. “How does this plane compare to the others you’ve been on?”

She tore her gaze from the tarmac and looked around. “About the same,” she said before finally looking directly at him. “Plush seats. Full kitchen with white marble counters. The ultimate in technology, right down to the WiFi. I assume the sleeping quarters are in the back.”

“Yeah. Feel free to stretch out after we take off.”

She rifled through her bag, took out a magazine and began to flip through the pages. “No, thanks. I’m fine right here.”

All talk ceased as they taxied down the runway, and once they leveled off midair, Houston got up and grabbed a beer from the bar fridge. “Want anything to drink? I make a mean gin and tonic.”

“No, thanks,” she said without looking up.

“Glass of water?”

“No, thanks again.”

Jill seemed bent on ignoring him, and that royally ticked Houston off. He took a swig before settling back in the seat. “Did I do something to piss you off?”

She sent him a fast glance and went back to flipping. “Not today.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

After closing the magazine, she looked at him straight on. “I’m sorry. I’m tired. I didn’t intend to take it out on you.”

He suspected there was more to it than fatigue. “Are you sure something else isn’t bugging you?”

“If you must know, my mother left me a voice mail and I listened to it right before I left the motel room. She reminded me that my sister is getting married next weekend and I’m expected to attend. Sometimes her demands rub me the wrong way.”

Houston decided Ms. Amherst had some serious mama issues. “You don’t sound too excited about the nuptials.”

“I’m not. I’ve never been that close to Pamela. She’d didn’t even invite me to be in the wedding party. But I’m five years older and let’s just say she’s always been the favored child.”

He sensed a sorry story there. “Why is that?”

“Pamela is a conformist. She went to college at my parents’ Ivy League alma mater, and she had the good fortune to find the perfect, wealthy, shallow guy. I’m sure she’ll go on to be surrounded by lots of socialites and have two point five children and a membership to the best country club in the country.”

The resentment in her tone took him aback. “Not your scene, huh?”

“Not hardly. I’m the rebel of the family. I went to school in Sin City and didn’t take the time to meet any guys, let alone get engaged to one.”

That was one helluva bombshell. “You didn’t date a single soul in college?”

“I was focused on my career, although I did consider seeking out a professional poker player just to add fuel to the family fire.”

They both laughed for a few seconds before Houston posed another question to keep the mood light. “Don’t you think bringing home a cowboy would’ve done the same thing?”

She mulled that over for a moment. “I wish I’d thought of that. My mother would have been completely beside herself, but at least she might have stopped trying to set me up with some rich, boring, misogynistic narcissist every time I went home.”

Man, she didn’t mince words. Big words. But he’d started to relate a little more to the always serious athletic trainer. He wasn’t a stranger to complicated family dynamics, and he was curious to confirm if they shared another aspect in their background. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but it sounds to me like you come from money.”

She folded her arms beneath her breasts and sighed. “Yes. A lot of money. I had a trust fund that I didn’t bother to touch because it came with conditions.”

That explained why she worked her way through school. “Conditions as in Ivy League schools and no cowboys?”

“Exactly.”

A short span of silence passed before Houston decided to end the quiet for a second time. “I’m glad you let me in on the family problems. For a minute there I thought you were mad at me for forcing you onto a plane.”

Her smile came back out of hiding. “You didn’t force me, and no, I’m not mad at you. I am a little mad at myself for not declining the invitation. This could be a total waste of both our time if your brother isn’t interested in hiring me. Provided I actually want the job.”

“Or it could be a win-win situation. You’ll have a better salary and a permanent place to land, and I’ll earn some points with Dallas.”