Stella Bagwell - Daddy Wore Spurs

“I’m a curious man and you’re a beautiful woman. A plus B equals C.”

“That’s not the way algebra works.”

Finn chuckled lowly. “You’re right. That’s not algebra. That’s my own special equation.”

He was making light of the whole thing and it would be best if she did, too. But his kiss had shaken her to the very depths of her being. And she was sick of men never taking her seriously, tired of being considered a pleasant pastime and nothing more.

“Very cute,” she muttered, then quickly turned away from him and walked over to Harry’s playpen. “But I’ve had enough laughs for one night. I’m putting Harry and myself to bed.”

Mariah was bending over to pick up Harry when Finn’s hands caught her around the waist and tugged her straight back into his arms.

“If you thought that was for laughs, then maybe I’d better do it over.”

Before she could react he’d already fastened his lips over hers. And this time there was no mistaking the raw hunger in his kiss.

***

Men of the West:

Whether ranchers or lawmen, these heartbreakers can ride, shoot—and drive a woman crazy…

Daddy Wore Spurs

Stella Bagwell

www.millsandboon.co.uk

After writing more than eighty books for Mills & Boon, STELLA BAGWELLstill finds it exciting to create new stories and bring her characters to life. She loves all things Western and has been married to her own real cowboy for forty-four years. Living on the south Texas coast, she also enjoys being outdoors and helping her husband care for the horses, cats and dog that call their small ranch home. The couple has one son, who teaches high school mathematics and is also an athletic director. Stella loves hearing from readers. They can contact her at stellabagwell@gmail.com.

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To my husband, Harrell.

You still look sexy in spurs, my darlin’!

Contents

Cover

Introduction A faint smile curved his lips. “I’m a curious man and you’re a beautiful woman. A plus B equals C.” “That’s not the way algebra works.” Finn chuckled lowly. “You’re right. That’s not algebra. That’s my own special equation.” He was making light of the whole thing and it would be best if she did, too. But his kiss had shaken her to the very depths of her being. And she was sick of men never taking her seriously, tired of being considered a pleasant pastime and nothing more. “Very cute,” she muttered, then quickly turned away from him and walked over to Harry’s playpen. “But I’ve had enough laughs for one night. I’m putting Harry and myself to bed.” Mariah was bending over to pick up Harry when Finn’s hands caught her around the waist and tugged her straight back into his arms. “If you thought that was for laughs, then maybe I’d better do it over.” Before she could react he’d already fastened his lips over hers. And this time there was no mistaking the raw hunger in his kiss. *** Men of the West: Whether ranchers or lawmen, these heartbreakers can ride, shoot—and drive a woman crazy…

Title Page Daddy Wore Spurs Stella Bagwell www.millsandboon.co.uk

About the Author After writing more than eighty books for Mills & Boon, STELLA BAGWELL still finds it exciting to create new stories and bring her characters to life. She loves all things Western and has been married to her own real cowboy for forty-four years. Living on the south Texas coast, she also enjoys being outdoors and helping her husband care for the horses, cats and dog that call their small ranch home. The couple has one son, who teaches high school mathematics and is also an athletic director. Stella loves hearing from readers. They can contact her at stellabagwell@gmail.com .

Dedication To my husband, Harrell. You still look sexy in spurs, my darlin’!

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Epilogue

Extract

Copyright

Chapter One Contents Cover Introduction A faint smile curved his lips. “I’m a curious man and you’re a beautiful woman. A plus B equals C.” “That’s not the way algebra works.” Finn chuckled lowly. “You’re right. That’s not algebra. That’s my own special equation.” He was making light of the whole thing and it would be best if she did, too. But his kiss had shaken her to the very depths of her being. And she was sick of men never taking her seriously, tired of being considered a pleasant pastime and nothing more. “Very cute,” she muttered, then quickly turned away from him and walked over to Harry’s playpen. “But I’ve had enough laughs for one night. I’m putting Harry and myself to bed.” Mariah was bending over to pick up Harry when Finn’s hands caught her around the waist and tugged her straight back into his arms. “If you thought that was for laughs, then maybe I’d better do it over.” Before she could react he’d already fastened his lips over hers. And this time there was no mistaking the raw hunger in his kiss. *** Men of the West: Whether ranchers or lawmen, these heartbreakers can ride, shoot—and drive a woman crazy… Title Page Daddy Wore Spurs Stella Bagwell www.millsandboon.co.uk About the Author After writing more than eighty books for Mills & Boon, STELLA BAGWELL still finds it exciting to create new stories and bring her characters to life. She loves all things Western and has been married to her own real cowboy for forty-four years. Living on the south Texas coast, she also enjoys being outdoors and helping her husband care for the horses, cats and dog that call their small ranch home. The couple has one son, who teaches high school mathematics and is also an athletic director. Stella loves hearing from readers. They can contact her at stellabagwell@gmail.com . Dedication To my husband, Harrell. You still look sexy in spurs, my darlin’! Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four Chapter Five Chapter Six Chapter Seven Chapter Eight Chapter Nine Chapter Ten Chapter Eleven Chapter Twelve Epilogue Extract Copyright

Was this baby his son?

Finn Calhoun stared in wonder at the four-month-old boy cradled in the woman’s arms. The child’s hair was curly, but it wasn’t bright copper like his own. Still, it was a light shade of auburn. Finn’s eyes were the color of the sky, while the baby’s eyes were a much darker blue. There were also the dimples creasing his fat little cheeks. Finn possessed those same dimples, too. But that was hardly proof the little guy belonged to him.

A man was supposed to have nine months to adjust to the idea of becoming a dad, Finn thought. He’d had all of two days to ponder the notion of having a child. And though he liked to consider himself a man with his boots firmly planted on the ground, the idea that he might be a father had left him feeling as if he’d been shot out of a cannon and hadn’t yet landed.