Читать книгу Pregnant By The Colton Cowboy - Lara Lacombe - Страница 8
ОглавлениеThe rain started just as Maggie Lowell finished the last entry in the account book. The drops fell in a gentle patter, but a quick glance at the dark sky outside made it clear the sky wouldn’t stay peaceful for long. Time to go home.
She quickly packed up her laptop and papers with one hand and pecked out a text to Mac with the other.
All done. Everything looks good.
Maggie normally didn’t come to a client’s home to work on their books, but she made an exception for Joseph “Mac” Mackenzie. He was impossible to refuse—always smiling, always kind. He’d been one of her first clients in Shadow Creek, and he hadn’t hesitated to promote her bookkeeping services to all his friends. Since Mac was a deservedly popular man, it hadn’t taken long for Maggie to build a solid roster of clients. Mac’s actions had essentially ensured her success here, and Maggie never forgot it. Dropping by his ranch to work on his books every quarter was a small way to repay him for his kindness.
And if she happened to run into Mac’s son, Thorne, while she was at the ranch? That was just a bonus.
Maggie glanced around as she left the office, hoping to catch a glimpse of Thorne while she made her way to her car. The rich scent of horses and hay hit her nose as she stepped into the barn, and one of the animals whickered softly in response to the sound of the office door being shut. There was no sign of Thorne, but it was clear he’d been there recently—a set of wet boot prints marred the otherwise clean floor of the barn, and since Mac was in San Antonio on business, the prints could only belong to Thorne.
Would she see him as she dashed to the car? The thought made her heart flutter, and a sense of anticipation warmed her limbs. Even a drive-by sighting of Thorne was better than no sighting at all.
Maggie knew her crush on Thorne was irrational, but she couldn’t help herself. The man was her personal catnip, and every time she saw him she fell a little bit more in love with him. How could she not? His smile lit up a room, and when she saw those dimples in his cheeks she went weak in the knees. His light brown eyes were full of a quiet intelligence that drew her in and made her want to learn more about him. And the fact that he had the body of a man who made his living working with horses didn’t hurt, either. His long, lean frame filled out a pair of jeans in all the right places, and his dark skin contrasted nicely with the light blue work shirts he often wore. Thorne Colton was the total package, and ever since she had first laid eyes on him, Maggie had thought of little else.
She harbored no illusions about Thorne’s feelings for her. He had inherited his father’s impeccable manners and he always treated her with respect, but Maggie knew she wasn’t the kind of woman Thorne dated. He was horses, hard work and sunshine, and she was...well, truth be told she was more of an indoors girl. They had very little in common, but that didn’t stop her inner thirteen-year-old from letting out a squeal of delight any time he was near.
She debated lingering in the barn for a moment in the hopes of seeing him, but decided against it. She had her pride, after all.
Maggie hugged her computer bag close and dashed to her car, diving into the driver’s seat with more momentum than grace. She deposited the slightly damp bag in the passenger seat and grabbed a handful of napkins from the console, then set about patting herself dry. The water was cold and she shivered slightly, but she told herself to enjoy the sensation while it lasted. Summer came quickly to Shadow Creek, Texas, and she knew in a few months she’d be begging for the relief of a cool rain.
Feeling slightly less waterlogged, she stuck the key into the ignition. Hopefully the storm wouldn’t affect traffic too badly. Her stomach growled in agreement, and she began to mentally review her dinner options as she turned the key.
The engine whined in protest, and thoughts of food vanished as Maggie focused on the car. “Not again,” she muttered, pumping the gas before giving the key another turn. The red sedan had been a steady and reliable workhorse for the past several years, but it was starting to show its age. A few months ago, the mechanic had advised her to start looking for another car, but Maggie had yet to find the time. Besides, she had faith in the old man. Surely they could go a few thousand more miles before she had to say goodbye?
As if in response, the engine emitted an alarming grinding noise that sounded like rocks slamming together. It shuddered, causing the whole car to vibrate, and then stopped with a pitiful wheeze.
Great. It seemed her cheerful red stallion had finally given up and died.
Mother Nature apparently sensed the loss, as the sky opened up in earnest. The torrential rain pounded the car in a deafening onslaught and Maggie sighed, dropping her head to lean against the steering wheel. It just keeps getting better...
She indulged in a moment’s self-pity, then fished out her cell phone and called for a tow.
“It’s gonna take a while,” the dispatcher informed her. “The ranch is outside the town limits, and we’ve got a lot of calls ahead of you. The weather is slowing us down.”
“That’s fine,” Maggie said. “I’m not going anywhere.”
She hung up the phone and eyed the computer bag in the passenger seat. Maybe she could get some work done while she waited...
She pulled the bag into her lap just as the passenger door opened and someone plopped into the seat. Maggie let out a squeak of alarm and jumped, her hand scrabbling for the handle as she pressed herself against the door.
“Hey there.” Thorne’s deep, calm voice filled the car, and Maggie’s body recognized him a split second before her mind caught up. Her muscles relaxed and a swarm of butterflies took flight in her stomach as her body celebrated its proximity to his.
Her breath gusted out in a shaky sigh. “Hi, yourself.”
“I’m sorry—I didn’t mean to scare you.” He took off his brown, rain-spattered cowboy hat, careful to keep it level so the water trapped in its folds didn’t drip onto her seats. It was a thoughtful gesture, one that Maggie appreciated.
“It’s all right,” she said, offering him a smile. “You startled me more than anything.”
“Everything okay? I noticed you’ve been sitting here for a while now. Are you having trouble with your car?” His light brown eyes were full of concern and her stomach did a little flip. Thorne had noticed her. More importantly, he cared enough to check on her. Maybe she wasn’t so invisible after all.
Maggie reined in her imagination before visions of flower arrangements and bridesmaid dresses crowded out rational thought. “Yeah,” she said, focusing on his question. “My car won’t start. I’ve called for a tow.”
Thorne nodded. “I’d offer to take a look at it for you, but I don’t really know much about fixing cars.” He sounded a little apologetic, as if his lack of mechanical acumen was a personal failing.
“Don’t worry about it,” Maggie said. “My mechanic told me a few months ago I should start looking for a new car. I guess I can’t put it off any longer.”
“Guess not,” he replied. He was quiet a moment, his expression thoughtful. “Would you like to wait inside?”
She considered the offer. It would be nice to have a little more room for her laptop, and the air inside the car was getting a little stale. But she didn’t know how Mac would feel about her hanging out in his office after hours. He had no problem with her working there while he attended to other matters on the ranch, but he might not appreciate her taking up space when she wasn’t balancing his books.
“Do you think Mac will mind if I use his office?”
Confusion flitted across Thorne’s face, then realization dawned. “Probably not,” he said. “But what I meant was, would you like to wait with me? I live in the apartment above the supply building attached to the stables, and I was just about to head upstairs and start dinner. I’ve got enough to share, and I bet you’re getting hungry.”
She was, but Maggie doubted she’d be able to eat in Thorne’s presence. The idea of sharing a meal with him in his apartment both thrilled and terrified her. What if she said or did something embarrassing? She’d never be able to live it down.
Thorne mistook her silence for reluctance. “Come on,” he coaxed. “I don’t bite.” The corner of his mouth turned up in a grin, and Maggie’s heart thudded hard in her chest. Did the man have any idea what he was doing to her?
Probably not, she thought with a mental sigh. He wasn’t the kind of man to deliberately taunt a woman, and given his down-to-earth attitude and old-fashioned manners, he likely didn’t even realize how attractive he was. His apparent ignorance of the effect he had on the opposite sex was just another one of his appealing qualities, and Maggie felt her worries recede as her desire to spend time with him grew.
“Are you sure you don’t mind the company?” She didn’t want to intrude on his personal time, even though her sense of curiosity demanded to learn more about Thorne and his life. What did his apartment look like? Was he a good cook, or would he order pizza? Most important, did he have a girlfriend?
“On the contrary, it’ll be nice to have someone to talk to while I eat. I usually only have the TV for company.”
That answered her question about the girlfriend, and Maggie couldn’t help but smile. “I know what you mean,” she said.
He turned his head and frowned out the window. “I don’t think it’s going to let up anytime soon. Want me to go grab an umbrella so you don’t get too wet?”
It was a sweet offer, but Maggie shook her head. “Thanks, but I won’t melt. Besides, that’s not really fair for you to make two trips in the rain just to spare me a few drops.”
Thorne lifted one shoulder in a casual shrug. “I don’t mind.” He glanced over, eyeing her up and down appraisingly. Even though there was nothing suggestive about his gaze, Maggie still felt a chill as goose bumps popped out on her arms. “I don’t think you could get any wetter, though,” he said, a smile tugging at that delectable mouth of his.
She glanced down at her still-damp shirt and pushed a scraggy tendril of hair out of her face. “I think you’re right about that.” She shook her head, trying to see the humor in the situation. Of all the times for Thorne to notice her, and invite her in for a meal, no less! Why couldn’t this have happened when she looked more like a woman and less like a drowned cat? Doesn’t matter, she told herself sternly. There’s no help for it now.
“Ready to head inside then?” His voice was warm and inviting and Maggie nodded, happy to have an excuse to leave the claustrophobic confines of the car. It would be so much nicer to wait for the tow truck inside. But now that she was looking forward to dinner with Thorne, a not-so-small part of her hoped the tow truck driver would take his time in driving out to the ranch. After all, it wasn’t every day she got to share a meal with the object of her affections.
The man in question put his hat back on and turned to face her. “Race you to the door?” Even in the dim light, Maggie could see the flash of mischief in his brown eyes. She felt an answering tug low in her belly and nodded, already groping for the door handle.
“You’re on.”
* * *
Thorne slid to a halt a few steps behind Maggie, grateful her back was to him so she didn’t see him slip on the smooth floor of the supply building. He righted himself just as she turned around to give him a triumphant grin, and his heart thudded hard in a rhythm that had nothing to do with his near wipeout and everything to do with the woman standing in front of him.
She is so beautiful.
It wasn’t the first time he’d had the thought, and he knew from experience it wouldn’t be the last. But Maggie looked especially lovely tonight, despite her rumpled clothes and dripping hair. Any other woman would have looked soggy and bedraggled, but Maggie looked even more appealing. His eyes traced a tendril of blond hair that clung to the curve of her neck, and he wished he could follow the path with his fingertip.
Or his tongue.
Shaking himself free of the thought, he focused on her face and her big blue eyes, which sparkled with amusement. “I figured you’d be faster, seeing as how you chase down cows for a living.” She tilted her head to the side with a teasing smile.
Thorne removed his hat and brushed the raindrops away with the side of his hand. “In my defense,” he grumbled, “I’m usually on a horse.” And he usually wasn’t distracted by the sight of her curvy backside in front of him, her clothes clinging to her frame like a second skin...
This was a bad idea. But as soon as he had the thought he dismissed it. He couldn’t very well let Maggie sit alone in her stalled car while a storm raged—his father had raised him better than to ignore a woman in need. And while he might like to get to know Maggie on a more personal level, he had to keep things platonic. She was his father’s bookkeeper, and Mac wouldn’t appreciate him hitting on someone who worked at the ranch, even though she wasn’t really an employee. His father would still view it as mixing business with pleasure, and given Thorne’s parentage, it made sense the man had strong feelings on the subject.
It was no secret his mother, Livia Colton, had seduced Mac and then broken his heart. Thorne didn’t know all the details, but his mother was a devious woman who stopped at nothing to get what she wanted. Mac had been a handsome man—he still was—and Thorne figured he’d caught Livia’s eye. Livia wasn’t one for delayed gratification, nor was she willing to let a little thing like her marriage vows stop her from having fun. He didn’t know what spell she'd cast to get Mac to do what she wanted, but he was the product of that encounter.
In his more cynical moments, Thorne wondered why Livia had continued the pregnancy. He’d never bothered to ask, but he figured she must have thought Wes Kingston, her husband at the time, was the father. Of course, that little assumption blew up in smoke as soon as he was born and people got a look at the color of his skin. His skin color wasn’t as dark as Mac’s, but anyone could see he didn't share the pale shade of his brother River. It didn’t take long for the rumors to start about his parentage. Knowing he was the topic of gossip had stung, and Thorne had found it was easier to spend time with Mac and the horses while he was growing up. The ranch had been his safe space, free from whispers and rude stares.
As he'd gotten older, Thorne had been curious about Livia and Mac, but he knew better than to press for details. Mac never talked about it, and no amount of pestering was going to get him to open up about the experience. Thorne figured his father had his reasons for keeping things to himself. Some things were better left unsaid.
He pushed aside the image of his father’s frowning face and gestured for Maggie to precede him up the stairs that led to his apartment over the supply building. He was careful to keep his eyes on the floor and off her, a task that proved rather difficult. She stopped when she reached his door, and he tugged his keys free from his pocket to let them both inside.
Thorne walked in first and flipped on a light, his eyes doing a quick scan of the apartment in search of any grievous messes that required immediate attention. He hadn’t exactly considered the state of his home when he’d issued the dinner invitation, but he was relieved to see the place didn’t look too bad. An empty glass sat on the worn wooden coffee table and his denim work jacket hung on the back of a chair, but other than that his apartment was fairly clean. It was a testament to how much he worked as opposed to any great housekeeping skills on his part, but no matter—the effect was the same.
Maggie hung back by the still-open door, appearing suddenly shy.
“Everything okay?” Was she having second thoughts? He couldn’t blame her if that was the case. They exchanged pleasant greetings every time their paths crossed, but they were basically strangers. It made sense she might worry about being alone with him in his apartment. “Would you rather I ordered a pizza and we sat in the office?” They’d still be alone together, but sitting there would keep things from feeling so...personal.
“I’m fine,” she said. “I just don’t want to drip water all over your floors.”
“Don’t worry about it,” he quickly assured her. “Let me grab you a towel so you can dry off.” He trotted down the hall to the bathroom and grabbed fresh towels from the cabinet, then returned and handed one to her. “Here you go.”
Maggie took it with a smile. “Thanks.” She began to dab at her face and clothes and he did the same. The towels quickly grew dark as they soaked up the rain, but Thorne was feeling drier already.
Thorne gestured down the hall. “The bathroom is the door on the right, if you’d like to freshen up a bit.”
“I will, if you don’t mind.”
He shook his head. “Not at all. I’ll just get things started in the kitchen.”
Maggie moved past him and he caught a whiff of her scent—vanilla and coconut, like some kind of exotic, intoxicating drink. Thorne was suddenly very aware of how he must smell after working with the horses all day—sweaty, stale and probably on the stinky side. Too bad there wasn’t time for a quick shower before he started cooking.
But Maggie didn’t appear to be bothered by his eau de livestock odor, so he shrugged and stepped into the small kitchen. Besides, he told himself as he gathered plates and silverware from the cupboards, this isn’t a date or anything.
And wasn’t that just too bad? He couldn’t deny that Maggie had captured his heart from the beginning. He’d met her when she’d started doing the books for Mac, and it hadn’t taken long to fall under her spell. But it wasn’t just her appearance that drew him in. It was the way she looked at him, as if she saw him for his own sake and not as an object of speculation or gossip. His siblings and Mac were the only people to treat him like a normal person instead of a walking scandal. The fact that Maggie didn’t appear to be fazed by his unorthodox roots and Livia's many crimes made her even more attractive, and he’d spent many an idle moment wondering what it would be like to get to know her better.
Maybe he could start tonight. It was the best chance he'd had in a while to really talk to her. Usually when she came out to work on Mac's books, Thorne was called away to a far part of the ranch to fix a fence or round up a stray calf. This was the first time in months he'd seen her for more than a minute, and he should make the most of it.
The table set, he opened the fridge and stared at the shelves with a critical eye. What to fix for dinner? Normally, he didn’t give the subject much thought but tonight was different. He wanted to make something nice that Maggie would enjoy, but not something with especially romantic overtones—he didn’t want her to think he was coming on too strong. Since he didn’t exactly have a fridge full of oysters and chocolate-covered strawberries, there really wasn’t any danger of giving off the impression he was trying to woo her with food. But he did need to come up with a decent meal, lest she think he survived only on TV dinners and the odd PB&J.
Which wasn’t too far from the truth, but still. He had his pride.
Thinking quickly, Thorne reached into the fridge and gathered up the ingredients to make a simple quiche, depositing them on the countertop. He set the oven to preheat, then rolled up his sleeves and got to work chopping vegetables.
“Can I help?”
Thorne jumped at the sound of Maggie’s voice. The knife in his hand slipped, the sharp edge of the blade scoring the pad of his thumb. He dropped the offending tool with a muffled curse and stuck his thumb in his mouth, easing the sting of the cut with his tongue. He’d been so engrossed in his task he hadn’t heard her walk in behind him, and now he looked like a clumsy oaf.
Maggie’s eyes were wide with concern. “I’m so sorry—I didn’t mean to startle you!”
He pulled his thumb out of his mouth and examined it. “Don’t worry about it,” he told her. The cut was deep enough to bleed freely, but not so bad as to require stitches. It was more of an annoyance than anything else.
Before he could protest, Maggie grabbed his hand a pressed a wad of paper towels to his thumb. There was nothing remotely sexual about her touch, but a thrill shot through his limbs from the contact. She bit her plump bottom lip as she stared down at his hand, and she was standing so close he could feel the heat coming off her body. She was so focused on his hand he was free to study her face, and he traced the lines of her features with his gaze. Her eyelashes were still a little spiky from the rain and her cheeks held a soft pink glow that reminded him of the color of sunrise. There was a light dusting of freckles across the bridge of her nose, something he’d never noticed before. And this close, he could see the faint laugh lines at the corners of her eyes and mouth.
Her vanilla-coconut scent filled his nose and went straight to his head, making him feel a little dizzy. He wanted to lean forward and bury his nose in her hair, to drink in her perfume until it filled his lungs and saturated his senses. He leaned forward without realizing it and would have done it if Maggie hadn’t lifted her head and met his eyes.
Surprise flashed in her bright blue gaze as she realized how close he was. She sucked in a breath, and a look of such naked yearning appeared on her face Thorne found himself reaching for her instinctively. It was clear she wanted him, and his body rejoiced at the realization. There were a million reasons why this was a bad idea, but he ignored them all. He wasn’t interested in thinking right now—he only wanted to feel.
His free hand found her cheek and he touched her gently, silently asking permission. She leaned into his touch, closing her eyes for a second as if savoring the contact. His heart started to pound, the blood whooshing in his ears as he bent his head, already anticipating the sweet pressure of her lips against his own.
He forced himself to go slow, to take his time. Thorne had fantasized about kissing Maggie ever since he’d met her, and he wanted this moment to be perfect for both of them. No matter what his hormones demanded, it wouldn’t do to rush into the kiss. He wanted to give her time to change her mind, if that’s what she wanted.
He needn’t have worried. Maggie dropped his injured hand, grabbed his shoulders and stood on her toes, pulling herself up to meet his mouth. Her lips were warm and soft against his, and he tasted the subtle, waxy flavor of lip balm as he angled his head to get a better fit between them.
She made a soft humming sound and he smiled against her mouth, happy to hear she was enjoying this as much as he was. The pain in his hand receded as he focused on the woman in his arms. He’d wanted her for so long, but given his family history he had never dared to think she might want him back. He tried to lose himself in the moment but his worries swirled in his mind, a distracting chorus that prevented him from truly connecting with Maggie.
Livia’s criminal actions had cast a shadow over Thorne’s life, leaving him feeling dirty and ashamed. Maggie was bright and good and kind, the type of woman who deserved a man with a decent family, a man she could build a life with and not have to worry that the sins of her mother-in-law would come back to haunt her own children. Livia had made a lot of enemies, and Thorne knew people weren’t ever going to forget her crimes.
Disappointment was a small weight in Thorne’s stomach. No matter how much he liked Maggie, no matter how good it felt to hold her, to kiss her, he needed to let her go. The people of Shadow Creek already looked down on him, thanks to his connection to Livia. He didn’t want Maggie to be painted with the same brush. She didn’t deserve to be the object of gossip, and if anyone learned of his interest in her, she’d be the talk of the town in no time. And not for the right reasons.
He eased back, slowly breaking the kiss. She stood frozen for a moment, her eyes closed and her lips pink and swollen from his attention. It was almost enough to make him throw caution to the wind and reach for her again, but he ruthlessly stomped on the urge. Maggie might not be thinking about her reputation right now, but he was.
She opened her eyes and he saw the question in the bright blue depths. Thorne cleared his throat, searching for the right words to explain why he’d pulled away.
“I’m sorry,” he began.
She cut him off, her words lightning fast in the small kitchen. “I’m not.”
Thorne rocked back on his heels a little, unsure of what to say next. If Maggie didn’t consider this to be a bad idea, maybe he was overthinking things...
She stared up at him, her eyes blazing with a heated arousal that stoked the fire of his need. “What’s wrong?” she asked softly. A flicker of doubt crossed her face. “Did I do something to upset you?”
“No!” His denial was instant and fierce and he felt himself reaching for her, wanting to erase her worry. He softened his voice and tried again. “No, you did nothing wrong. It’s just... I’m worried. For you.”
Her eyebrows drew together in puzzlement. “What do you mean?”
Thorne reached a hand up to rub the back of his neck, feeling his skin prickle with embarrassment. How to explain his concerns without sounding like an egocentric ass? My reputation, my family, my problems. My, my, my. She was going to think he was too wrapped up in his own life, but really, he just wanted to protect her. He heaved a mental sigh and nearly shook his head. This was why he preferred the company of horses. Conversations with people were just too complicated.
“You know who my mother is,” he said, risking a glance up. Maggie nodded, but she still seemed confused. “You know what she did.”
“Sure,” she replied slowly. “Everyone does. But what’s that got to do with you?”
“People talk,” he said simply. “They’ve done it all my life, and they’re not going to stop. Especially now that Livia’s crimes and escape from prison have provided new fodder for them. You don’t want to be associated with me.”
Understanding dawned in her eyes. “You’re trying to protect me from town gossip.” He nodded, happy she had caught on. Now she would put some distance between them and he could go back to cooking. They could pretend like this had never happened. The thought sent a pang through his chest, but it was for the best. He could relive the magic of their kiss when he was alone.
He reached for the knife, intent on picking up where he’d left off. But Maggie’s hand on his made him freeze.
“It’s sweet of you to worry for me.” She rubbed the pad of her thumb along the side of his hand, her touch simultaneously featherlight and electrifying. “But I’m a big girl, and I don’t care what people say.”
Thorne swallowed hard, trying to dislodge the sudden lump in his throat. The blood in his body was rapidly racing south, making thought and speech difficult. “You don’t?” he asked stupidly.
Maggie shook her head and moved her hand up his arm, trailing her fingertips along his skin in a teasing caress. She placed the palm of her other hand on his chest, directly over his heart. Could she feel it speed up in response to her touch?
“So if that’s the only thing stopping you...” she trailed off, her suggestion clear.
“You’re sure?” His voice sounded hoarse even to his own ears. He held his breath as he waited for her response. It had been so long since he’d connected with a woman, and the revelations about Livia and her subsequent trial, imprisonment and recent escape had made him feel more alone than ever. Maggie was exactly what he needed right now, but he wasn’t going to soothe his own soul at the sake of her feelings.
Maggie nodded, her eyes shining brightly with an emotion he couldn’t name. “I’m sure. I like you, Thorne,” she said, sounding a little shy.
Her confession washed over him, breaking down the last of his resistance. He closed the distance between them and captured her mouth again. She reached up and clasped her hands behind his neck, returning his kiss with equal fervor.
Moving carefully so as not to break their connection, Thorne reached down and hooked his hands under the curve of Maggie’s bottom. He hitched her up, smiling against her mouth as she let out a little “oof” of surprise. She recovered quickly though, throwing her legs around his waist and locking her ankles together. The change in position afforded him new access to her body, and his blood heated in anticipation as he registered the warmth of her core.
With Maggie in his arms, Thorne headed for the bedroom. Her body bounced against his sensitive groin with every step, turning the short trip into a seemingly endless stretch of exquisite torture. By the time he made it to the room he was nearly blind with need, and he rammed his shoulder hard against the doorjamb. He grunted in annoyance and felt the vibrations of Maggie’s amusement in his chest.
“Are you okay?”
Thorne deposited her on the bed, then stepped back to toe off his boots. “Never better,” he said, the pain of the blow already forgotten. He paused, hands on his belt buckle. “Are you?” Was she changing her mind?
Maggie smiled and reached for him. She slipped her hands into the back pockets of his jeans and pulled him closer, urging him forward until his thighs hit the edge of the mattress. “Oh, yes,” she said softly. “I’m right where I want to be.”
