Cowboy Seal Daddy

“Wayne.” Paisley stood at the partially open door wearing a voluminous pink sundress. With her hair in pigtails, she probably looked twelve—not counting her baby bump. “You’re the last person I expected to see. What happened to you calling first before popping in?”

“What kind of welcome is that for your fiancé?”

“Ha-ha. Look, it’s really not—”

He brushed past her to pace her living room. He was so large that his constant motion cramped the already tight space. “I was thinking...”

“Yes?” She closed the door, then collapsed onto the sofa.

“It occurred to me...”

That you should call before barging in on a woman who is wearing her fave grunge wear?

“You and I are pretending to be engaged. We leave next week for our wedding, yet have never been on a date. Wanna go?”

“Now?” She fingered her dress that was more of a nightgown. “I’m not exactly...”

“You look adorable. Let’s go.” He took her hands, tugging her from the sofa. “There are a couple of things you need to go along with that perfect wedding gown we’ve still got to find you.”

“What else do I need?” Was it wrong that even though she felt perfectly stable she didn’t want to let go of his hands?

“It’s a surprise.” Sadly, he released her to fish under the chair. “Go ahead and put these on.” He set her sandals in front of her to step into. How did he always seem to know right where to find them? The brush of his fingertips against her ankles made her happy she’d shaved last night in the tub. His touch made her a little dizzy. A little too excited to go anywhere he wanted. A little less determined than she should have been to guard her battered heart. “You’ll also need a nice, thick pair of socks.”

“Why?”

“If I told you, it wouldn’t be a surprise.” He grinned.

She wanted to keep a straight face. She wanted to not get suckered by his lone dimple or strong white teeth or perfectly sun-kissed tan. But she couldn’t. Her lips curved into a matching grin, and then she succumbed to the excitement of her first happy surprise in a long, long time.

It wasn’t until she sat beside Wayne in his truck, stealing a glance at his chiseled profile and dashing cowboy hat and strong forearms gripping the wheel, that it occurred to her the last time she’d fallen for a guy, she’d ended up pregnant and alone.

Before she went and did something idiotic like falling for her fake fiancé, maybe it was time she told him to turn around? To take her home. Where she’d be safely tucked away from his mesmerizing slow grin and the sexy scent of Irish Spring. Most of all, she needed to guard her heart from the way he made her feel.

Protected. Sheltered. Needed.

Emotional ambrosia for a woman in her condition.

A ticking bomb preordained to explode the moment he no longer had a practical use for her in his life.

* * *

IN A MILLION YEARS, Wayne never could’ve envisioned himself easing a sock up a pregnant woman’s silky calf, but here he was, literally kneeling at Paisley’s feet in the center of Boot Bonanza. “Above all, when picking a new pair of boots, you should opt for comfort. All these flashy designs look nice in the store, but when you’re twenty miles down a box canyon, searching for a lost calf, trust me, comfort’s gonna win every time.”

Paisley cocked her head, eyeing him funny.

“I’m serious.”

“I know. And it means the world to me that you want my feet well protected, but let’s think this through. I’m an interior designer who lives in San Diego and will soon have a bouncing baby boy. When do you think I’ll find time to traipse through box canyons?”

“You know what I mean. And since when is it wrong for a guy to want to look out for you?”

“Never. Thank you. Just sayin’ that the majority of shoes in my closet were chosen for form over function.”

“That may well be, but on my watch, I think you should be in more stable footwear. Those sandals you wear are totally unsuitable for a woman in your condition. Did you know 35 percent of women reported falling at least two or more times during pregnancy?”