Cathy Gillen - A Texas Soldier's Family

“Unlike me, you don’t seem all that surprised.”

He narrowed his eyes. “What are you accusing me of?”

She flushed. “Nothing.” She just knew that being alone with this sexy, virile man was not a good idea. “But,” she continued hastily, “under the circumstances, I think it would be better if Max and I went into town and stayed in a hotel.”

He choked off a laugh. “What? You’re worried I’m going to put the moves on you?”

Actually, she was worried she was going to lose all common sense and put the moves on him. But not about to reveal that, she crossed her arms in front of her and quipped wryly, “Dream on, Alpha Man.”

His eyes crinkled mischievously at the corners. “Alpha Man?”

Had she really said that? She must be punchier than she’d thought. Which was par for the course, considering she’d been lured back to work three months before she had planned and then, compounding matters, having to get up at the crack of dawn to take the six o’clock flight from Dallas to DC in order to be seated next to him on the return trip. Aware he was still waiting for an explanation, she lifted a hand. “It was an insult. A friendly one.” Hope bit down on an oath. She was just making it worse.

He laughed, his husky baritone like music to her ears, as he continued giving her a long, sexy once-over. “Sounded more like a compliment to me.”

He was twisting everything around, embarrassing her and putting her off her game. Indignant, she huffed, “Of course you would think that.”

He held his ground, arms folded in front of him, biceps bunched. Again, that long steady appraisal. “Because I’m alpha?”

He definitely was not a beta.

She threaded her hands through her hair, wishing she’d thought to put it in a tight, spinsterish bun before he’d picked her up. “Can we end this repartee?”

His mother was right. They had been flirting. They were flirting now. Heaven help them both.

He leaned in and gathered her into his arms. “With pleasure.”

The feel of him against her, chest to chest, thigh to thigh, sucked all the remaining air from her lungs.

“What are you doing?” she gasped, wishing he didn’t feel so very, very good.

Wishing he hadn’t just reminded her of all that had been missing from her life.

He threaded his hand through her hair, let it settle tenderly on the nape of her neck. “What any alpha male would do in this situation.” Grinning, he bent his head toward hers.

Hope tingled all over. Lower still, there was a kindling warmth. Cursing the forbidden excitement welling within her, she whispered, “Garrett...for pity’s sake...you can’t... I can’t...!”

He laughed again, even more wickedly. His lips hovered above hers, so close their breaths were meeting as sensually and irrevocably as the rest of them.

“Kiss you and see if you kiss me back?” he taunted softly, stroking the pad of his thumb along the curve of her lips—top, then bottom. “Oh, yes, Hope Winslow, I sure as hell can.”

Not only can, Hope thought, as an avalanche of excitement roared through her. Did.

His lips fit over hers, coaxingly at first, then with more and more insistence. She told herself to resist. Tried to resist. But her treacherous body refused to listen to her heart, which had been wounded, and her mind, which absolutely knew better.

She had been alone for so long.

Had needed to be touched, held, for months now.

She hadn’t expected to be cherished as if she were the most wonderful woman on Earth. But that was exactly what he was doing, as he stroked his hand through her hair and, with his other palm flattened against her spine, guided her closer until her breasts were pressed against the unyielding hardness of his chest. Lower still, she felt the heat in his thighs and the building desire. And knew her life had just begun to get hopelessly complicated...

* * *

GARRETT HADN’T COME out to the ranch thinking they would be alone for one single second. Hadn’t figured he would ever act on the need that had consumed him since the second her bottom landed square on his lap, the softness of her breasts pushing into his face.

Oh, he’d known he wanted her from the instant he had seen her checking him out in the DC airport. She was just so gorgeous, so haughty and unreachable in that all-business way of hers.

Seeing she had an infant whom she cared deeply for, knowing she was irrevocably wedded to life in Texas while he was not, had added yet another reason he should keep his hands off.

He might have managed it, too, if she hadn’t been working so hard to curtail the attraction she so obviously felt.

Because Hope was right about one thing. Her denial had brought out the alpha male in him. Made him want to pursue her like she had never been pursued before.

That pursuit, in turn, had kindled his own raging desire. And then she had kissed him back, her tongue entwined with his in a way that could bring him to his knees and one day, hopefully, land them both in bed.

Luckily for the two of them she came to her senses and pushed him away. Breathing raggedly, she stepped back, a gut-wrenching turmoil in her low tone he hadn’t expected. “I can’t do this.”

Pressing her hand to her kiss-swollen lips, she shook her head. “I can’t lose everything because of one reckless moment. Not again.”

* * *

SILENCE FELL BETWEEN THEM, as awful and wrenching as her voice. Mortified, Hope yanked open her car door and climbed behind the wheel.

Garrett walked to the passenger side and pulled himself in beside her. “When did that happen?”

Hope concentrated on starting the engine. Driving, the normalcy of it, would help. She looked behind her, then backed up until she reached the gravel road that led to the barns. “I shouldn’t have said that.”

“And I shouldn’t have kissed you,” Garrett admitted gruffly, his big body filling up the passenger compartment the way no one else ever had. “But now that I did, and you kissed me back...”

He shrugged like a soldier on leave.

As if the fact that he had just returned from a war zone entitled him to something. Namely, a woman willing to have a fling.

She had found out the hard way, however, through her ill-advised liaison with Max’s daddy, that woman was not her.

“That shouldn’t have happened, either,” she said stiffly, as the SUV wound past the damaged wooden fence to the lone building a distance away from everything.

She didn’t have to guess what it was.

A sign next to the door of the cedar-sided, tin-roofed building said Circle H Ranch Bunkhouse.

A bright red welcome mat stood in front of the heavy wooden door. Pots of flowers, a couple of small tables and some rough-hewn Adirondack chairs decorated the front porch. Lamps, emitting a soft yellow glow on either side of the entry had been turned on.

If the inviting exterior was any indication of the inside of the domicile, then Lucille had been right, they would be comfortable here.

Hope cut the engine and got out of the car. Quietly, she opened the rear passenger door, unfastened Max’s safety seat from the base of the restraint and lifted him out. To her relief, her sweet little boy slept blissfully on.

Garrett grabbed the diaper bag and went on ahead, to find the key that had been left beneath the mat. “Is all this because you’re working for my mother?” He reached inside and switched the interior lights on.

“Believe it or not—” Hope squared her shoulders as she passed “—working for your mother doesn’t include making out with you.”

* * *

GARRETT WAS PRETTY sure Hope hadn’t meant to say that. Any more than she’d meant to do anything she had the last fifteen minutes or so. Nevertheless, he was pleased to see her letting down her guard. He wanted to get to know the real Hope Winslow, not the sophisticated facade she showed the world.