The Texas Cowboy's Quadruplets. Cathy Thacker Gillen

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ dad had been incredibly strong to the very end.

      Just as she needed to be strong now.

      Abruptly, Mitzy became aware that Chase was still watching her, ever so patiently waiting for her to confide in him what was really going on with her and her mother.

      Telling herself there was no need to lean on his strong, broad shoulders, she drew a deep invigorating breath, said finally, “It’s just the usual stuff.”

      He strode closer. Clad in a pine-green brushed cotton shirt, jeans and dark brown custom boots, he looked sexy and totally at ease. “Judith still doesn’t like the fact you’re a social worker?”

      “Correct.”

      He stopped just short of her and gave her the slow, thorough once-over. “I’m guessing there’s more.”

      His soft, husky baritone sent shivers ghosting over her skin, but Mitzy stiffened her resolve, in a valiant attempt not to lose herself in his potent masculine allure. There was too much water under the bridge between the two of them, after all, and getting swept up again by passion would not be in either of their best interests.

      Still avoiding her dad’s private office, she moved through the shop, surveying the various workstations, finding that everything looked the same as she recalled.

      Chase moved with her. “She also doesn’t like me living here in Laramie, now that Dad’s gone.”

      “She wants you back in Dallas?”

      Mitzy suppressed a groan. “Permanently.” Coming to the rear of the building, she stepped out onto the covered patio, where employees often took their lunch breaks.

      Chase rubbed the flat of his hand beneath his jaw. “That’s not so surprising, is it? Now that you’ve had children and made her and Walter grandparents?”

      Mitzy perched on the edge of a picnic table and took in a breath of the bracing November air. “I can’t go back to Dallas, Chase.” She rubbed the toe of her Italian pump across the cement floor. “I never belonged there. For so many reasons, Laramie has always been my home.”

      Chase settled next to her, his arms crossed in front of his chest. “Me, too.” He slanted a commiserating look at her. “Even when I lived away from here, I always knew I’d come back eventually.”

      In that sense, she and Chase were the same.

      Maybe always would be.

      It was too bad so many other things kept them apart. Their attitudes about business, and the role it played in a person’s private life, paramount among them. He hadn’t been able to understand that disrespecting her father had in turn disrespected her. And instead had insisted that she should have defended his right to speak his mind to whomever he chose. He’d also felt that, as his potential wife, she should have sided with him on principle! Even though he was clearly wrong!

      When they couldn’t come to terms about that, he had wanted to pretend as if their quarrel had never happened, and simply move on. She couldn’t because she knew, as a social worker, that ignoring problems did not make them go away, it made them fester. A lasting relationship required a lot more than friendship, amusing repartee and incredible, skillful lovemaking. It required being on the same page—about everything important—and she and Chase weren’t. And weren’t going to be.

      Heartbroken, she did the responsible thing and called off their engagement. Even as a tiny part of her wistfully hoped they might still find a way to meet each other halfway and work things out.

      Instead, Chase had tersely agreed a split was probably for the best. Since she wasn’t giving him what he needed, either. And there was no reason for them to get married, if they were only going to get divorced down the road.

      And that had been that. Until now.

      Aware he was waiting for her to go on, Mitzy continued cavalierly, “And of course, Judith’s not happy about the whole ‘single mother via artificial means’ business. She would have much preferred I did things the old-fashioned way.” With even Chase as her baby daddy, instead of some anonymous donor. “But since I didn’t choose the more traditional route, she at least wants me to provide them with a proper father, to grow up with.”

      He looked down at their perfectly aligned thighs. Though an inch and two layers of fabric separated their limbs, she could still feel the warmth exuded between them. And knew he could, too.

      His glance returned to hers. Stayed in a way that had her heartbeat increasing.

      “You’re not enthused about finding the quads a baby daddy?”

      Surely he wasn’t volunteering for the position?

      Was he?

      And even if he were, in some alternate reality, it was impossible.

      She returned his assessing look. Stood, and replied, as matter-of-fact as possible, “If I were going to get married, cowboy, I would have done so ten years ago.”

      His eyes gleamed. “Funny. Me, too.”

      Thinking maybe they should go back inside, before she did something really stupid, like kiss the smug look off his handsome face, Mitzy headed for the door.

      Able to feel the heat of his smoldering gaze, she tossed the words over her shoulder. “This is no joking matter, Chase.”

      For him, either, apparently.

      He sobered, the heartbreak of the past dragging them back to the troubled confines of the present. They crossed the threshold. “I gather you asked me to come here to talk about business,” he prodded.

      Not sure where or even how to begin, Mitzy nodded. She might not want to turn to her ex, but he had the expertise and the dispassionate outsider’s view that she desperately needed. “I did.”

      He looked her in the eye with a sincerity and warmth she found disquieting. “What can I do to help?”

      “I went online and read some reviews of our saddles after you and I talked. They weren’t as good as usual.”

      He hooked his thumbs through the belt loops on either side of his fly. “I’m aware. I’ve been reading them, too.”

      Guilt welled up inside her. She’d promised her dad she would take care of things. She hadn’t. Thus far, anyway. That was about to change. Deliberately, she continued, “Which got me to wondering what’s going on.”

      “Have you talked to any of the Martin Custom Saddle employees?”

      She shook her head. “I wanted to come in and look around first. And the perfect time for that is today since it’s Thanksgiving, and no one is slated to be working.”

      “And I’m here to...?”

      She led him toward the front of the facility again, where production of the saddles began, her shoulder briefly nudging his bicep in the process. “Look around,” she said, working to keep a more circumspect physical distance. “See if anything jumps out as a potential problem.”

      The first was apparently СКАЧАТЬ