Silver James - The Cowboy's Christmas Proposition

Dillon shoved Coop. “I don’t have pimples!”

Deke wanted to bash all three of his brothers. This was normal behavior anytime two or more Tates shared the same space, but today he needed a huge helping of regular normal to deal with the trooper. He couldn’t help but wonder what she was thinking. She looked stern in her dark brown uniform and black leather Sam Browne belt, but he caught a hint of humor around her eyes. At least he hoped it was humor. Did she have a boisterous family like his? That would be a good thing. She’d understand the ribbing and his frustration.

“I still think she should go out with me.” Dillon was a persistent little bugger.

“Then you think wrong. She thinks you’re too young,” Quin called out. She didn’t even look their way but her voice carried.

Was she teasing Dillon? That made Deke feel like a fool because he was suddenly jealous of his little brother. He needed to get some space and think through this situation—and this woman. She was not his type, not in any way, shape or form. Except it was turning out that she was exactly his type in every way, shape and form. He was so screwed.

Six

“Pay no mind to the boys, Quincy.” Katherine Tate gave her an inquisitive look. “I may call you Quincy, yes? Trooper Kincaid is so...harsh.”

Quin nodded out of habit. Mrs. Tate was one of those women so used to getting her own way she’d likely steamroll over any protestations Quin might make.

“Do you have family, Quincy?”

Mrs. Tate was getting personal now. Quin would have to walk this minefield with care—at least until she figured out the woman’s angle.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Brothers?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Mrs. Tate laughed, a rich laugh much like her son’s that reminded Quin of hot fudge on ice cream. She wondered what it had been like having this woman as a mother, especially since her own was 180 degrees opposite in personality.

“I shall remind the boys not to play poker with you. Tell me about your brothers. Are you close?”

“No.”

“Ah.”

Quin squirmed. That one syllable spoke volumes and what it said made her bristle. All teasing aside, she had the distinct impression that she was interviewing for a job.

“My brothers and I weren’t particularly close, either. Of course, I often thought Daddy should have drowned Cyrus at birth but then I wouldn’t have my nephews so I suppose it all worked out. Families are odd microcosms, don’t you think?”

Quin wasn’t sure what to say. Cyrus Barron had been a powerful man, not just in Oklahoma, but pretty much in the entire world. His six sons—one only recently acknowledged—were following in his footsteps. The family had fingers in every important pie and then some. She wasn’t as familiar with the Tate brothers but knew several of them worked side-by-side with their Barron cousins.

“Yes,” Quin finally answered. “They can be.” Which was true enough. Odd and dysfunctional described her family rather well.

“How closely do you plan to...supervise my son, Trooper Kincaid?”

The abrupt change of subject caught Quin off guard. “Technically, I’m only here as a liaison, ma’am. A...facilitator, so to speak.”

“In other words, the governor called your big boss, who called your immediate boss, who stuck you with this because no one wants to upset the governor. I still want to know your intentions, Quincy. You aren’t comfortable with this situation. And you especially don’t like the idea of my son taking care of a baby.”

Yeah. She’d sure enough poked the momma bear. With a sharp stick. “I admit to reservations, Mrs. Tate, especially given the fact that your son is uncertain whether he’s the father.”

The only reaction she got was the quirk of a well-shaped brow and silence.

“Look, I’m going to be blunt here. Why would your son take in a child he probably has no ties to? Aren’t you worried this is a scam? Some sort of shakedown for money?”

Quin didn’t understand why Deacon and his family were making such a big deal over this. Didn’t it make more sense to just turn over the kid? She breathed through her irritation and continued. “While we are making every attempt to keep the situation low-key, your son is a celebrity. It’s just a matter of time before the story leaks to the media. What happens then? I’m a trained investigator, Mrs. Tate. As such, I have to question your son’s motive.”

That earned Quin another pointed look. “That explains quite a bit, young lady.”

Well, crud. She was losing ground fast and she really needed Mrs. Tate on her side. Quin figured Deacon’s mother might be the only person who could make him see reason.

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