His Pregnant Texas Sweetheart. Amy Woods

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      She pretended to ignore the old nickname that made her pulse kick up its pace.

      “On what?”

      “On whether or not they have the right kind of rings at that piddly old shop on Main.”

      She glared at him.

      Peach Leaf had always been too small for Ryan Ford.

      He’d always wanted more—a fact Katie resented for the obvious implication that Peach Leaf was a small town full of small people. Including her.

      He had always wanted to find something bigger...ever since they were kids. And she had always known he would. Even if Sarah’s unplanned pregnancy hadn’t separated him and Katie, something else eventually would have.

      She would do well to remind herself of that the next time he bent over to check her truck’s engine.

      “All right, well. Let me make a call and see if they have what I need.” She reached inside the truck for her purse. “Maybe if they do, they can send someone over here with it.”

      “Nonsense,” Ryan said.

      “Huh?”

      He rolled his eyes. “That’s not necessary. You’re obviously—” he raised a hand to gesture in the general area of her stomach “—in no condition to wait out here for someone from the shop. October or not, it’s too hot for you to sit around outside. I’ll take you over there. If they have the parts, we can pick them up and bring them back here. You have tools, don’t you?”

      She glanced up at him and nodded. He was serious. He really planned to take her to the store. “I don’t know what you’re here for or what your schedule is, but I really doubt it includes taking me over to Main Street to buy truck parts.”

      Ryan’s jaw tightened. “You always did have trouble accepting favors.”

      “And you had trouble sticking around.” The ugly statement was out before she could censor it, and Katie slapped a hand over her mouth. It might be true, but that didn’t mean it was okay to speak out loud. Her words were harsh and hateful, and she instantly regretted their escape.

      The hurt she’d caused passed quickly behind Ryan’s eyes and then it was gone, but his tone became detached, cold. “Just let me take you to the store, Katie. I’ll help you fix your truck and then I’ll leave you alone. How’s that?”

      It should have been fine. It should have been exactly what she wanted to hear. She’d been curious about what had become of Ryan Ford many times over the years. Of course she had. She’d wanted to know about his life. What kind of job he had. Where he lived. Did he stay married to Sarah...and how was the child the two had made together? But now that she’d seen him—without a wedding ring, she noticed, and looking quite well—it should have been enough to let him go permanently. He’d obviously been fine without her all this time, hadn’t he? Of course he had been, or he would have made an attempt to get in touch. So why wasn’t his promise enough?

      Why did she find herself searching for a reason—any reason—to get him to stay a little longer?

      She shoved aside all rational thought and did something supremely stupid.

      “What if they don’t have it?” she asked, locking up her truck before following Ryan to his vehicle—the same Jeep he’d bought with money he’d earned himself when he’d turned sixteen. Only now it was in much better shape. He’d obviously spent a lot of time and put a lot of hard work into it. She had always loved that about Ryan. He always knew exactly what he wanted and worked at it until he got it.

       Too bad he didn’t want me.

      He opened the passenger door for Katie and held out a hand to help her inside. The gesture made her heart do a little flip. She knew to appreciate gentlemanly gestures when she saw them, which was maddeningly rare.

      “Well,” he said, shutting her door. He got in the driver’s seat and started up the engine. “I guess they’ll have to order some, which means—” he turned to grin at her “—that you’ll have to wait.”

      “That’s just the thing, though. I need my truck for the Pumpkin Festival in two days.”

      Ryan’s eyes lit up slightly at the mention of the event. It was so subtle that if she’d blinked, Katie would have missed it.

      “I volunteered to drive in the hayride at the festival this year, and I’m picking up a kiddo who doesn’t have a ride to the campground.”

      Something changed in his eyes when she’d said those words, and Katie wondered what she could say to get that little burst of light back. Ryan had always loved the Pumpkin Fest. What had she said that bothered him?

      “It’s not a problem,” he said, his voice low and unnervingly tender. “If your truck’s not fixed in time, I’ll take you, and we can use my truck for the hayride.”

      Ryan dropped the words and started up his Jeep as if he hadn’t just offered a favor that would save her last festival. Katie was glad he didn’t look over at her then because he would have caught the traces of a smile she didn’t want to let him have.

Chapter Three

      “It’s going to take how long to fix?” Katie asked, leaning over the front counter of the auto shop on Main. The teenager behind the long Formica worktop leaned back as Katie’s face drew dangerously near his own, his eyes wide with worry. Ryan bit back laughter as the grown woman and young man went back and forth futilely over how long it would take for the order of the new parts for Katie’s truck to come in.

       Same old spunky Katie.

      There were a few changes, of course, all of them good.

      She still wore her glossy dark hair long, he noted, pleased. Her eyes were the same sparkling shade of brown, almost mahogany in the daytime, but black as night when the sun went down, and then there was her body...more womanly now, more deliciously curvy in her fitted dark jeans and pink plaid camp shirt. The whole picture delighted him.

      “Look, Miss Bloom,” the harried-looking kid said, holding his hands out in surrender, “I know it’s not what you want to hear, but the fact is we can’t fix the problem without those rings, and it ain’t so easy to find spare parts for a vehicle of that—” he swallowed slowly, choosing his words with meticulous care, evidently having dealt with Katie’s befuddling love of her piece-of-junk vehicle on prior occasions “—production year.”

      Ryan and the teenager—Billy, his name tag read—exchanged a look, neither of them certain whether or not the clerk had succeeded in appeasing the aggravated woman between them. Katie shoved a fist onto each of her hips, still slim but newly curved from pregnancy—the pregnancy that sent a confusing rush of emotions through Ryan’s heart each time he noticed it anew.

      “Billy Greene, are you calling my truck old?” Katie challenged, her cheeks flushing pink.

      Billy gulped again, but this time he raised his chin and met Katie’s eyes.

      Good, Ryan thought. Maybe she would finally СКАЧАТЬ