A Family After All. Kathy Altman

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СКАЧАТЬ style="font-size:15px;">      As he pulled back out onto the highway, Joe gave his head a shake that failed to dislodge his goofy grin. “She’s great,” he said. “Just great.”

      “Glad to hear it. I know the motel’s doing well. Whenever I drive by, the parking lot’s full.”

      “That website she put together is really bringing in the business.”

      “The renovations must have helped, too. I still hear horror stories about the turquoise ceilings.”

      “Bet you hear more about the python behind the wall.”

      Seth didn’t have to fake his shudder. “I’d rather talk about the ceilings.”

      “I know what you’d rather talk about. Or should I say who. Ivy still thinking about opening a riding school?”

      Seth frowned. “Where’d you hear that?”

      “Allison. Ivy asked her advice on creating an ‘online presence.’” Joe glanced over at Seth and winced. “Damn, man, I’m sorry. I figured you knew. You’re at the farm all the time.”

      “I’m at the farm when I have a delivery to make.”

      “That’s all there is to it?”

      “She’s determined to keep things casual.” Which was a never-ending source of frustration for him. They’d met a year ago, when he and his kids had moved to town and he’d taken over the feed store. The tall blonde fascinated him. She was industrious, smart, sexy and playful—a constant tease to the deliberate side of his personality. Unfortunately, she was also determined to keep their relationship shallow. He’d been just as determined to coax her toward the deep end.

      But some things weren’t meant to be. Like his marriage, which had ended two years earlier. Maybe it was just as well Ivy wasn’t into forever, because his kids were still struggling to deal.

      Joe’s next words reinforced that notion. “Between your kids, your store and that cranky-ass truck of yours, it sounds like you have your hands full anyway.”

      Seth grunted. “So does she.” A riding school. When would she find time to run a school? The woman worked too damned hard as it was.

      What really bothered him was that she hadn’t mentioned it. Yeah, they kept it laid-back, but over the past several months they’d talked about everything from the nutritional value of the cottonseed in her cows’ feed to the healing properties of oral sex. His groin perked up at the phrase. Down, boy.

      They never talked much about his kids, though. And that was the thing.

      His kids came first.

      Joe turned into the crumbling asphalt lot of his motel, Sleep at Joe’s. Seth smirked, even as wistfulness whispered through him. Joe and Allison had gotten back together in the spring after a year apart. He doubted there was a lot of sleeping going on.

      He met up with Joe on the sidewalk in front of the truck and offered his hand again. “Thanks. I’ll take good care of her.”

      “You’re welcome. And yeah, you will.”

      “Anything I can do in return, you let me know.” Seth waved at Allison, a curvy blonde who was working at the other end of the motel, spreading mulch around the base of a young tree. She returned his wave and blew Joe a kiss before turning back to her yard work.

      Seth gave his head a mournful shake. “I get a kiss and you get a wave? What’d you do, leave the toilet seat up again?”

      “Smart-ass. The kiss was for me.” Joe pushed him off the sidewalk and trailed him to the driver’s side. “You heading out to Ivy’s now?”

      Seth gestured toward the empty truck bed and opened his door. “I need to get back to the store and load up first.”

      Joe slammed the door shut after Seth had buckled himself in. “Hey, I thought of something you can do for me,” he said through the open window.

      “Name it.”

      “Spring for some decent beer for poker night.”

      Seth raised an eyebrow. “What do you care?”

      “That cheap-ass crap you buy gives everyone else gas. I may have quit drinking, but I still have to breathe.”

      * * *

      IVY MILLBROOK SHOULD have been working. Instead she was staring at the backside of the man she’d lusted after since the day he’d moved to Castle Creek.

      A year was a long time to go hungry, but Seth was tougher than a cheap cut of meat. Since her livestock needed feed and Seth was the only game in town, Ivy had no choice but to respect his preference to sit tight as friends.

      Plus, he was a genuinely nice guy. Damn him.

      When he turned and caught her staring, the flare of heat in his brown eyes stirred up a jittery warmth in her belly. But then he looked away, and a squeeze of panic put a hitch in her breathing. He had something on his mind. Something she probably wouldn’t want to hear. She squinted up at him as he shifted on the truck bed, surrounded by flecks of dust floating in the afternoon sun, straw rustling beneath his boots. What the heck had happened to the laid-back, naughty camaraderie they usually shared?

      He lifted his ball cap away from his hair and swiped an arm across his forehead, resettled his hat and finally returned her stare, his own gaze reflecting half amusement, half frustration and half speculation.

      She frowned. Wait. That was too many halves. But with all those gorgeous man muscles mere inches from her nose, no one could blame her for not being able to do the math.

      “Ivy,” he said.

      “Seth,” she drawled, proud of the lack of urgency in her tone.

      He propped a boot on the nearest hay bale. Despite the green-apple crispness of the October day, he was sweating. And no wonder, considering he’d already unloaded most of her order—and hers was not the first delivery of the day. His long-sleeved cotton shirt clung to impressive pecs, and the deepened rhythm of his breathing had her wishing that she, and not hard labor, had made him pant. An explicit mental image of just how she might achieve that shoved her own lung action toward the red zone. A swell of lust left her fidgeting. She shifted her thighs against the ache and Seth made a growling sound of impatience.

      “Are you going to just stand there eyeing my ass, or are you going to help?”

      The warning behind his words kept her from pointing out that he’d turned around. It was no longer his ass claiming her attention.

      “Help,” she said.

      Not realizing she was answering his question, he crouched on the truck bed and held out a gloved hand, jaw firm, eyes distant. Seemed Seth Walker was in no mood to play today.

      “You can push the rest of these bales onto the tailgate while I finish unloading.”

      Ivy sighed. “Fine.” She stepped onto the bumper and let him haul her up beside him. She pressed her palm against СКАЧАТЬ