The Cowgirl's Forever Family. Helen LaceyЧитать онлайн книгу.
caught. “It’s about Cara,” she said breathlessly, taking the need and the want out of the conversation. “And my friends—”
“Care about you,” he said, cutting her off. “Yes, I can see that they do.”
Shame crept up her neck. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have involved them in this. It’s complicated enough without—”
“I’ll stay.”
Brooke stilled instantly. “You’ll stay?”
He nodded. “You went to a lot of trouble to get me here. So, yes. I’ll stay. We’ll stay.”
It should have made her day. And part of her was delighted—but another part was nervous. She’d lived alone for two years and the prospect of sharing her home with a man, a stranger, tied her belly in knots.
This is about Cara...not him.
“You’re not angry?”
“I’m not angry.”
“And you’ll stay for a week?” she asked.
He nodded again. “Have you heard from your brother?”
Unease pitted in her chest. “Not yet. But he’ll call... I know it.”
“I hope you’re right.”
Ignoring the cynicism in his voice, she stepped forward and held out her arms. Cara reached for her immediately and Tyler passed her over—hesitantly, Brooke could tell. She was such a placid, adorable baby and Brooke’s heart melted a little more each time she held her.
“Thank you for agreeing to this,” she said to Tyler. “If you want to get your things I’ll show you to your room.”
He pushed himself off the hood and walked around the car. He looked as good from the back as he did from the front and her wayward belly immediately did another loop-de-loop. She took a deep breath, ignored the feelings and headed inside.
The ranch house had four bedrooms and she walked down the hall to the room opposite hers. Next door to that was a smaller room, where they could set up the crib. She waited while he came in behind her and dropped a bag at the end of the wide bed. He looked around the walls and at the two glass cabinets filled with trophies and awards.
“Yours?” he asked.
She nodded fractionally. “I used to be a barrel racer,” she explained. “My parents had a thing for keeping all my awards.”
“They were proud of you,” he said and dropped his keys on the bedside table. “Understandably.”
She smiled. “I suppose. I thought we could put the baby in the room next door to this. It used to be my mom’s sewing room but I cleaned out all of her things and now it’s the office. Or we could use Matt’s room.”
“Next door will be fine,” he said and roped the baby bag over his shoulder. “I have a portable crib, a playpen and a stroller in the car.”
He followed her to the adjoining room and dropped the baby bag on the desk before he disappeared outside. When he returned he had the crib and stroller and quickly set the crib up in the room.
“Looks like you’ve had plenty of practice doing that,” she remarked.
He stopped what he was doing and looked at her. “I guess so. I’ve spent a lot of time with Cara over the past few months.”
She nodded. “The other night you said you came from a large family.”
He finished expanding the crib. “I said that?”
Brooke shrugged. “I think so.”
“It was more of an extended family,” he said and put sheets and blankets in the crib.
“You’re so lucky. I only have an aunt and a couple of cousins in town,” she said and sat on the chair in the corner, holding Cara close. “And of course Matt. I would have loved one of those big extended families, though, especially around this time of year. Don’t get me wrong, I love my family very much. Although, since my parents were killed and Matt left town, there’s only about half a dozen of us when we all get together.” She swallowed hard as a surge of loneliness swept through her. Five years on and she still missed her parents and only sibling. “But, Thanksgiving and Christmas time is always filled with lots of laughter and love. But with a big family you must have had a happy childhood?”
He stopped what he was doing and looked at her. There was a sudden gust of awareness in the room, an intimacy that defied logic and made her feel hot all over. His gaze held her captive and for a moment she thought how mesmerizing he would be in the courtroom. No wonder he was such a legal hotshot. That green-eyed stare of his riveted her in the chair. She couldn’t look away. She couldn’t do anything other than stare back.
“My life isn’t up for discussion,” he said flatly. “I’m here because of Cara.”
Brooke raised her chin. Boy, he might be gorgeous, but he was also incredibly uptight. “You don’t need to scold me in your best lawyer voice. I wasn’t being nosy. Tell me, or don’t... I have no opinion about it either way.”
“Good.”
“Are you married?”
His brows came up. “Didn’t I just say my life wasn’t—”
“It’s not a discussion,” she said, cutting him off. “It’s a question. I’m only asking because I thought that if you were married perhaps your wife would—”
“I’m not married,” he answered quietly.
She was stupidly relieved and then scolded herself. “Girlfriend?”
“Not at the moment.”
No wife. No girlfriend. Available. That’s what her friends would be chanting. But Brooke was determined to not be swayed by a gorgeous face and sexy body. Not after Doyle. She didn’t have what it took to hold on to a man long term. And she’d had the broken heart to prove it. But still, she did wonder why he wasn’t attached. He looked to be in his mid-thirties; surely he’d been close at some point. Maybe he’d had his heart broken, too? Although, he didn’t come across as the sentimental type. And from what Kayla had found out about him, he was top in his field and legendary in the courtroom, which might not leave him a lot of time for relationships.
And I’m not going to think about the fact that he’d probably be legendary in the bedroom, too.
“Any more questions?”
She gave herself a mental jab. “I just thought that someone might be missing you while you’re here.”
“No,” he said tersely. “Only...”
His words trailed and she raised both her brows. “Only?”
Tyler took a second and cleared his throat. “Mr. Squiggles.”
Brooke bit back a smile. “Who?”
“A cat,” he said and waved a disinterested hand. “Yelena’s cat. I inherited him when she passed away.”
Brooke was amused by the color creeping up his neck. “Mr. Squiggles? I see. And is he a big fluffy white feline who insists on sleeping at the end of your bed?”
His lips twitched slightly. “Black-and-white. And yes, he’s known for liking his comforts.”
She grinned. “And where is he now?”
“With a neighbor,” he replied. “Who will hopefully want to keep him by the time I return to New York.”
“You’re not a cat person?”
He shrugged one broad shoulder. “I’ve never thought much about it. But I’m not home much so pets aren’t a good idea.”
“You work long hours?”
“I