Abby Gaines - Cowgirl Makes Three / Her Secret Rival - Cowgirl Makes Three / Her Secret Rival

“A man shouldn’t be alone,” Sandra said. “Noah deserves a good woman, his own kind.” She looked at Ivy, and Ivy was tempted to hold up her hands as if to say This has nothing to do with me. But she remembered that kiss. She just couldn’t forget that kiss.

Another woman laughed. “As if he couldn’t have one if he wanted. Give it up, Sandra. He’ll marry when he wants to. Lily, now, she’s another story. She’s growing up alone on a ranch with no other kid contact. That’s wrong.”

“Are you going to tell Noah that?” Alicia asked.

“Tell Noah how to raise his daughter? I’d sooner tell the devil that he should have air-conditioning in hell. Some things you just don’t do if you don’t want to have your head bitten off.”

“I think he should bring her to town,” Sandra suddenly said.

“You just want Noah here so you can slobber over him.”

Someone else laughed. “It would be nice to have the chance to gaze on Noah now and then. Someday he might get over Pamala, but if he doesn’t come to town, he won’t even think about one of us. And we can’t just make up some excuse to go see him, either. He’d see right through that.”

There was a sudden silence, and Ivy looked up to see several speculative glances on her. What was that about? Were they looking at her scars? Had they finally noticed the obvious?

Ivy didn’t know, but she once again felt like an outsider. I don’t care. It doesn’t matter, she reminded herself. She’d be gone soon enough.

For now, she just wanted to escape. She quickly paid for her things and headed for the door.

“Goodbye, Ivy,” someone called out, to her surprise.

Ivy turned and saw Alicia’s encouraging smile. Several more women called goodbye, albeit with less enthusiasm.

“Goodbye,” Ivy said quietly. “I—I guess I’ll be seeing you.”

“Oh, you will,” Sandra said, without smiling. “Tell Noah that Sandra says hello.”

Ivy managed to get out the door, but for some reason she didn’t want to understand, she didn’t tell Sandra that she would tell Noah anything.

Because I’m staying away from him as much as I can, she told herself. But she knew that that wasn’t the reason. Sandra wanted to be the next Mrs. Ballenger, and while Ivy knew that she and Noah were all wrong for each other, she didn’t think Sandra was right for him, either.

Or maybe she just didn’t want to think about Noah’s lips pressed against Sandra’s.

“And maybe you just better forget that kiss,” she muttered to herself. But she knew that she wouldn’t.

It had been two days since Ivy had gone into town. Noah hadn’t fired her for being insubordinate or for kissing the boss, but he had kept his distance. That didn’t mean she wasn’t totally aware of his whereabouts every minute. At times she even thought she felt his amber gaze on her, but when she turned around, he was always involved in some chore.

Still, every time, her heart started to thud…too hard.

She didn’t miss what was going on with Noah and his daughter, either. Despite her efforts to ignore Lily, the little girl’s laugh carried, her soft lisping voice touched a chord in Ivy’s heart and…well, it was wrong to keep a child cooped up, so she did her best to remain at a distance so that Lily could run and play freely and Noah wouldn’t feel guilty.

But the women’s words about Noah and Lily kept running through her head, and not just the stuff about how incredibly hot Noah was, but the fact that he stayed on the ranch and never took Lily to town to play with other children.

She’s only two, Ivy thought. And what do you know about parenting?

“It’s none of your business,” she muttered.

“Are you talking to me?”

Ivy looked up and saw Noah standing in front of her. She had been looking down at the ground as she walked, lost in her thoughts, but here he was, shirt off, a grease smear on his shoulder and a spark-plug wrench in his hand. He was standing next to the old truck she drove. The hood was open.

“Did I break it?” she asked.

He laughed, and deep dimples appeared in his cheeks. His dark hair had fallen over his forehead. He was a mess, and she had never seen anything she wanted her hands on so much in her entire life. “It breaks all by itself. Regularly. Make sure you carry a phone when you’re driving.”

“I know a few things about cars,” she said. “May I help?” Why on earth had she offered?

But she knew. She knew. She wanted to be close to that beautiful muscular body. She wanted to be there in case he laughed again. She wasn’t any better than Sandra.

Except I don’t want to marry him, she thought. I just want to touch him, maybe look at him a little.

She was totally pathetic.

“You’ll get grease on you,” he warned.

“Grease won’t kill a person.”

“Not the trendiest look for models, though.”

“I told you, I don’t model anymore.” It was getting easier to say those words, even though she sometimes missed the profession where she had fit and felt comfortable. With Noah, she felt…too aware of her body. And his body.

He nodded. “I heard you the first time you told me.” But he looked her over carefully, as if examining her for flaws from head to toe. Ivy squirmed. She fought to hold her head high, so that her scars were visible.

“Not buying it,” he said. “You carry your head higher than most women do. I’ve noticed those pretty little scarves you wear, the ones you know darn well will never make it through the day, but you wear them anyway. You’ll always be Ivy Seacrest, international model.”

He was so wrong. The scars had ruled that out, but she didn’t argue. Pointing out her scars only sounded as if she were asking for pity, and pity wasn’t what she wanted from Noah. No, she wanted…

A job. Just a job, she told herself. “Just the spark plugs or a full tune-up?” she asked.

“Full. I’m mostly done. Just have to change the oil.”

She nodded, grabbed the oil wrench and pan and slid beneath the truck.

“You’re pretty handy,” Noah conceded.

She chuckled as she drained the oil into the pan. “I told you, I had to learn all this when I was growing up.”

“So ranch chores, repairing cars…what else?”

“The usual. Cooking, cleaning, general household maintenance, painting.” She left out the bit about nursing an injured mother because her father wouldn’t pay for a doctor. That wasn’t for sharing.

“All that and you went to school, too.”

“They don’t call us supermodels for nothing,” she said, trying to tease because she was afraid that he was feeling sorry for her.

“No arguments here. I’m just not sure I want to go that route with—well, I admire your skills, but your days must have been long.”

He’d been thinking about what his plans were for Lily, hadn’t he? Ivy remembered what the women in town had said.

None of your business. Keep out, she thought. And yet…she slid from beneath the truck, wiping the oil off her hands with a rag. “When I was in town, there were some ladies talking about you.”

He raised one dark brow. One dark sexy brow. Uh-oh. “What were they saying?”

“You mean, besides the fact that they all want to run naked before you and have your babies?”

“Interesting conversation.”

“Just saying that they seemed disappointed that I couldn’t give them any hot news about you.”

“So you and the ladies in town are tight, eh?”

“Like this,” she said, twisting her fingers around each other. “Actually, we’re not so tight. I barely know them. At least one of them hates me. None of the others want to be my shopping buddy. Not their fault. I didn’t spend a lot of time socializing when I was growing up.”