Liz Fielding - A Deal at the Altar - Hired by the Cowboy / SOS - Convenient Husband Required

He had roots that went so deep. How could he ever understand someone who’d been rootless most of her life? She was glad now she hadn’t revealed more than she had. They’d led completely different lives.

“Do you think we can go through with this?” she asked, angling a sideways glance at his profile.

“The wedding, you mean?” Connor nodded. “I think we are both realists. Despite the obvious differences in our situations, our personalities seem to match. Considering the predicament we find ourselves in, it seems like a workable solution. Practical. I know you have your doubts—anyone would—but if you’ll let me show you that you can trust me…”

“Show me?”

The air cooled around them as the sun dipped further behind the mountains. “If at any time in the next few weeks you want out, I’ll take you back to Calgary myself. Take this time, Alex, to find out who I am. To be sure I’ll keep my word.”

“But what happens in the end?” She swallowed. After two days she was already envying him his home, the one she’d always longed for and he’d always had. On one hand she told herself not to get attached to the kind of life she could have here at Windover, because it wasn’t permanent. The other part of her told her to enjoy it, absorb all that she could and save it as a beautiful memory.

“I don’t have all the answers. But, knowing what we know, surely we can part as friends in the end?”

“Do you think it’ll be that easy? Going back to being alone?”

“Do you?”

The house grew closer with each slow step.

The thought of living alone now seemed dull and pointless, even after such a short time. It was a joy to know that someone was coming home at the end of the day. It gave the time she spent a point, a meaning. She’d have her baby when it was over, but who would Connor have?

“Who knows? We’ve both been alone for a long time. Maybe we’ll drive each other crazy and you’ll be glad to be rid of me.” She tried a cocky smile, but faltered at the look in his eyes as they stopped at the edge of the dirt road.

He turned to face her, his warm gaze delving into hers, drawing her in and making her thoughts drift away on the evening breeze. His hand lifted to her cheek. “I think there’s a very good chance you’re going to drive me crazy,” he murmured, his thumb stroking her cheek tenderly.

She stepped back in alarm, her face burning from the intimate touch and the clear meaning of his words. She left his hand hanging in thin air. A truck approached and spun past them, stirring up loose gravel and clouds of dust.

When the air cleared they said nothing, but crossed the road and made their way up the lane.

* * *

SHE WOKE AT dawn and checked her watch. It was barely five. Squinting, she glared at the window that was letting in all the lemony fresh sunshine. Last night she’d been so distracted she’d forgotten to pull the blinds. Her cheek still remembered the weight of his hand, caressing the soft skin there. Her drive him crazy? Not if he drove her nuts first. He was giving her the opportunity to back out. And she should. She was far too taken with him already. He was too strong, yet kind and understanding.

And he looked far too good in a pair of faded jeans. Add in that messy, slightly ragged hair, and any woman would be a goner. She should run, very quickly, in the opposite direction.

But the truth of the matter was this was by far the best way for her to provide for her child. She couldn’t go back to where she’d been staying, as the tenant had decided to move in with her boyfriend when Alex left. She’d quit her job at a moment’s notice. And now was no time to start from scratch.

She stared at the window. The flimsy white curtains didn’t do much to keep out daylight, even when the sun was rising on the other side of the house. Tonight she’d make sure the blind was down. She sure didn’t want to wake at five every day.

Footsteps passed outside her door, quiet, stocking-footed. A floorboard creaked beneath the weight. Connor was up already? She pushed the covers back and stepped out onto the hardwood floor. She’d missed his rising yesterday. She might as well get up now that she was awake, start learning what he liked for breakfast—and how he cooked it. If she weren’t going to be allowed to help outside, she meant to do her best inside.

She went downstairs dressed still in her pajamas—cotton shorts and a tank top. When she reached the kitchen, Connor already had a skillet on the burner and was half buried in the refrigerator, pulling out ingredients. He was dressed in what she now realized must be his customary uniform—faded jeans and a plain T-shirt. Her mouth grew dry as he dug deeper, the seat of his jeans filling out. She was in serious trouble here.

The touch of his hand on her face last night had prompted strange dreams. In them he’d stroked her cheek and kissed her. And it hadn’t been a brotherly kiss either. In her slumbers he’d taken her mouth wholly, completely. His lips had been soft, deliberate, and devastating. His hands had glided over her skin. Tender. Possessive.

He straightened, turned with eggs in his hands, and jumped.

She wanted to disappear through the floor. Belatedly, she realized her fingers were touching her lips…and that her nipples were puckered up almost painfully. All from the sight of his bottom in some worn denim.

“I didn’t expect you up for hours yet.”

Blushing, she turned away, searching the cupboard for dishes. Hormones, she tried, quite unsuccessfully, to convince herself. It had to be the excess hormones in her system making her feel so…carnal.

“I forgot to pull the blind last night,” she said to the plates. “You always up this early?”

He put a carton of eggs on the counter and nodded. “Ranching isn’t exactly a nine-to-five business. You hungry?”

She was ravenous…and she couldn’t blame that on her pregnancy. She’d found it incredibly difficult to eat after their walk, despite the fact that the chili had actually turned out fine.

“Normally I don’t eat until later, but after last night…”

The words hung between them, not only a reminder of their walk but of the strange feeling of intimacy that had followed their personal revelations. She needed to keep things casual. She’d walked away from his touch last night; he had no idea she’d started fantasizing about him. She didn’t want things to become more uncomfortable between them.

“What are you making?” She asked it quickly, to dispel the sudden feeling that he was remembering too.

“Scrambled eggs, sliced ham, and toast.”

“Will you show me?” She stepped forward, feeling a little silly that at twenty-three she didn’t even know how to scramble eggs. She wanted desperately to contribute, but having Connor have to show her everything…he could probably do it much faster himself than taking the time to instruct her. Setting her jaw, she vowed to pay close attention and learn—quickly.

“Sure.” He cracked eggs into a bowl and handed her a whisk while he put butter in the pan. “Here. Beat the daylights out of those for a minute.”

Her lips curved up without warning. She was really starting to like his sense of humor. He was relaxed and joking, which meant he wasn’t letting what had happened affect their relationship. Perhaps being married, even for such a brief time, could be enjoyable. Their personalities meshed. And, yes, the ranch was isolated, but Alex was used to being alone and didn’t find it too solitary. For the first time in a long time she felt a little hope that things would turn out all right after all. If only she could learn her share. If only they could maintain their boundaries.

As she was whisking he explained about adding salt and pepper and she paid close attention to quantities. He let the butter melt in the skillet, and then poured in the eggs.