The Rancher's Baby

Still, the whole virginity thing had the terrible side effect of making rusty morning voices and bare feet seem intimate.

She looked up and out the window and saw her car in the driveway. “Hey,” she said. “How did that happen?”

“I told you I was going to take care of it. Ye of little faith.”

“Apparently, Knox, you can’t even take care of your beard, so why would I think you would take care of my car so efficiently?”

“Correction,” he said. “I don’t bother to make time to shave my beard. Why? Because I don’t have to. Because I’m not beholden to anyone anymore.”

Those words were hollow, even though he spoke them in a light tone. And no matter how he would try and spin it, he didn’t feel it was a positive thing. It seemed desperately sad that nobody in his life cared whether or not he had a beard.

“I like it,” she said finally.

She did. He was hot without one, too. He had one of those square Hollywood jaws and a perfectly proportioned chin. And if asked prior to seeing him with the beard, she would have said facial hair would have been like hiding his light under a bushel.

But in reality, the beard just made him look...more masculine. Untamed. Rugged. Sexy.

Yes. Sexy.

She cleared her throat. “Anyway,” she said. “I won’t talk about it anymore.”

Suddenly, she realized Knox was standing much closer to her than she’d been aware of until a moment ago. She could smell some kind of masculine body wash and clean, male skin. And she could feel the heat radiating from his body. If she reached out, she wouldn’t even have to stretch her arm out to press her palm against his chest. Or to touch his beard again, which she had already established was completely inappropriate, but she was thinking about it anyway.

“You like it?” he asked, his voice getting rougher, even more than it had been this morning when he had first woken up.

“I... Yes?”

“You’re not sure?”

“No,” she said, taking a step toward him, her feet acting entirely on their own and without permission from her brain. “No, I’m sure. I like it.”

She felt weightless, breathless. She felt a little bit like leaning toward him and seeing what might happen if she closed that space between them. Seeing how that beard might feel if it was pressed against her cheek, what it might feel like if his mouth was pressed against hers...

She was insane. She was officially insane. She was checking out her friend. Her grieving friend who needed her to be supportive and not lecherous.

She shook her head and took a step back. “Thank you,” she said. Instead of kissing him. Instead of doing anything crazy. “For making sure the car got back to me. Really, thank you for catching me when I passed out yesterday. I think I’m still...you know.”

“No,” he said, crossing his muscular arms over his broad chest. “I’m not sure that I do know.”

Freaking Knox. Not helping her out at all. “I think I’m still a little bit spacey,” she said.

“Understandable. Hey, direct me to your hardware, and I’ll get started on that.”

Okay, maybe he was going to help her out. She was going to take that lifeline with both hands. “I can do that,” she said, and she rushed to oblige him.

Four (#u2f029b30-5a06-506d-84de-5895cad61026)

Knox was almost completely finished replacing the hardware in Selena’s kitchen when the phone in his pocket vibrated. He frowned, the number coming up one he didn’t recognize.

He answered it and lifted it to his ear. “Knox McCoy,” he said.

“Hi there, Knox” came the sound of an older woman’s voice on the other end of the line. She had a thick East Texas drawl and a steel thread winding through the greeting that indicated she wasn’t one to waste a word or spare a feeling. “I’m Cora Lee. Will’s stepmother. I’m not sure if he’s ever mentioned me.”

“Will and I haven’t been close for the past decade or so,” he said honestly. Really, the falling-out between Will and Selena had profoundly affected his friendship with the other man.

In divorces, friends chose sides. And his side had always clearly been Selena’s.

“Still,” Cora Lee said, “there’s nothing like coming back from the dead to patch up old relationships. And, on that subject, I would like to have a small get-together to celebrate Will’s return, just for those of us who were at the service. You can imagine that we’re all thrilled.”

If she was thrilled, Knox wouldn’t have been able to tell by her tone of voice. She was more resolute. Determined. And he had a feeling that refusing her would be a lot like saying no to a drill sergeant.

“It will be kind of like a funeral, only celebrating that he’s not dead. And you’ll be invited. He said he wanted you to come.”

“He did?”

“Not in so many words, but I feel like it is what he wants.” And Knox had a feeling it wouldn’t matter if Will did want it or not. Cora Lee was going to do exactly what she thought was best. “And he wants that ex-wife of his to come, too. He says you two are close.”

“Which ex-wife?” He had gotten the distinct impression that there was more than one former Mrs. Sanders floating around.

“The one you’re close to,” Cora Lee responded, her voice deadpan.

Reluctantly, Knox decided he liked Will’s stepmother. “Well, I’ll let her know. She went to the funeral, so I imagine she’ll want to go to this.” He wasn’t sure he particularly wanted to, but if Selena was going, then he would accompany her. He was honestly concerned that the other women who had been named beneficiaries, or whoever was responsible for sending the letter, might take advantage of a situation like this.

“Good. I’ll put you both down on the guest list, and I’ll send details along shortly. You have to come, because I wrote your names down and there will be too much brisket if you don’t.”

And with that, she hung up the phone. He looked down at the screen for a moment, and then Selena came in, her footsteps soft on the hardwood floor.

He looked up and his stomach tightened. Her long black hair was wet, as though she’d gotten out of the shower, and he suddenly became very aware of the fact that her gray T-shirt was clinging to her curves a little bit more than it might if her skin wasn’t damp. Which put him in mind to think about the fact that her skin was damp, which meant it had been uncovered only a few moments before.

What the hell was wrong with him? He was thinking like a horny teenager. Yeah, it had been a few years since he’d had sex, but frankly, he hadn’t wanted to. His libido had been hibernating, along with his desire to do basic things like shave his beard.

But somehow it seemed to be stirring to life again, and it was happening at a very inappropriate time, with an inappropriate person.

The good thing was that it must be happening around Selena because she was the only woman in proximity, and it was about time he started to feel again. The bad thing was...Selena was the only woman in proximity.

“Who was that on the phone?” she asked, running her fingers through her hair.

“Will’s stepmother. She wants us to go to a non-funeral for him in a few days.”

“Oh.”

She was frowning, a small crinkle appearing on her otherwise smooth forehead.

“Something wrong?”

“No. It’s a good thing. I’m glad to be asked. I mean, I was thinking, when I assumed he was dead, that it was so sad he and I had never...that we had never found a way to fix our friendship.”

“You want to do that?” He was surprised.