Having The Cowboy's Baby

Well, there was no avoiding him now. She got out of the truck and made her way toward his small cabin.

“Hey,” she said. “How’s it going?”

“All right.” He set his guitar aside. “How was the wedding?”

“Small, but nice. That is, if you’re into that sort of thing.”

“And you’re not.” It was a statement, not a question. Ian was well aware of how Carly felt about love and forever-after, so she let it go with a half shrug. His easygoing and nonjudgmental attitude was the main reason she’d even allowed herself to have a brief fling with him four or five months back. Well, that and the way he looked in those faded jeans.

He’d taken off his hat, revealing thick, brown hair in need of a comb. Or a woman’s touch.

She’d always found his green eyes intriguing—the way they lit up in mirth, the intensity in them during the heat of lovemaking.

His gaze raked over her as if he was hoping to pick up where they’d left off, and her heart rate stumbled before catching on to the proper beat again. But then, the guitar wasn’t the only thing Ian was skilled at strumming.

If truth be told, there’d been a fleeting moment at the wedding when her own resolve had waffled. She’d seen her stuffy brother’s eyes light up when his pretty bride walked down the aisle, and it had had touched her heart. She truly hoped that Jason and Juliana defied the odds and lived happily ever after. But she just couldn’t quite see herself dressed in white lace and making lifelong promises to someone. After all, she’d never known anyone who’d actually met “the one” and managed to make a commitment that had lasted longer than a year or two.

She glanced at Ian, saw his legs stretched out while seated in that patio chair, all long and lean, muscle and sinew. She did love a handsome cowboy, though. And Ian certainly fit the image to a tee. He also knew how to treat a lady—in all the ways that mattered.

Again, she shook it off. They’d ended things on a good note, both of them agreeing that their sexual fling—no matter how good it had been—would only end awkwardly if they let it go on any further. It had been a mutual agreement that she had every intention of sticking to.

“That’s an interesting bridesmaid getup,” he said as his gaze swept down to her boots and back up again.

“A bridesmaid getup?” That was a cowboy for you. “The wedding was so sudden that I didn’t have time to shop. So I wore a dress I’ve had for a while.” She glanced at her skirt, then twirled slightly to the right. “What’s wrong with it?”

“Not a thing.” His lips quirked into a crooked grin. “I was talking about the denim jacket and the boots. Juliana and Jason seem to be more traditional.”

She smiled. “Well, that’s true. I kicked off my heels the first chance I got. And since it’s a bit chilly out tonight and this dress is sleeveless, I grabbed the only jacket I had handy.”

“Either way, you make a good-looking bridesmaid, Carly.”

Before she could change the subject to one that was much safer than brides or commitments of any kind, she noticed a bush at the side of the cabin shake and tremble.

Had that pesky raccoon come back again? If so, it was certainly getting brave. But instead of Rocky, the nickname she and Ian had for the little rascal that knocked over the trash cans, a darling little black-and-white puppy trotted out from the bush.

“Oh my gosh,” Carly said. “How cute is he?”

“It’s a she. And her name is Cheyenne.”

As Carly bent to pick up the pup, she must have moved too quickly, because a wave of dizziness struck. For a moment, everything around her seemed to spin. She wasn’t going to faint, was she?

She paused a moment and blinked. Her head cleared, thank goodness. Then she pulled the hem of her dress out of the way, slowly got on her knees and reached out her hands. The pup came right over to her, but she held still for a while longer, making sure the world wouldn’t start spinning again.

“Aren’t you a sweetheart?” she said to the puppy. Then she glanced at Ian, who had a boyish grin splashed across his face. “Where’d you get her?”

“Paco, the owner of the feed store, had a litter of Australian shepherds for sale, so I bought her. It’s something I’ve been planning to do for a while. A spread like this needs a good cattle dog.”

Carly pulled the pup into her arms and stood. “But what if the new owners don’t want you to stay on?”

He shrugged. “I’m not worried.”

Ian didn’t get too concerned about much. In fact, he always seemed to go with the flow, which was a plus in the casual relationship department, but another reason they’d never make a good match in the long run. He didn’t have the same ambition she did.

For as long as Carly could remember, all she’d wanted was to stand out on her own and be recognized as more than a pretty little girl whose divorced parents, a wealthy businessman and a glamorous country-western singer, were both too busy to spend quality time with her. And she’d found the best place to do that was on the stage.

“That puppy is going to get your pretty dress all dirty,” Ian said.

“I don’t mind.” She tossed him a smile as Cheyenne licked her nose. “I’ve always wanted a dog, but I never stay in one place long enough to have one.”

“I’ll share Cheyenne with you when you come home.”

As nice as the offer was, it wouldn’t work. “Jason plans to sell the ranch, remember?”

“Yep. I sure do.”

“So I won’t have a place to run home to anymore. At least, it won’t be here. And like I said, you don’t know for sure that the new owner will want you to stay on. I mean, I hope they do.”

“Like I said...” His eyes sparkled, and a grin tickled his lips. “I’m not worried.”

“Yes, but you have to be responsible for a puppy now.”

“Having something to look after will do me good.”

She thought about some of the homeless people she’d seen on the city streets, pushing a grocery cart laden with their belongings, a tethered dog trotting along beside them. Not that she had any reason to think Ian would ever find himself homeless. He’d built a good reputation with the other ranchers in town. He was also a hard worker and would undoubtedly find a job somewhere. But he seemed to be as carefree as a tumbleweed, especially when it came to making plans, which was yet another reason they’d never make a go of it. Their basic personalities were just too different.

“You’re going to find that the ranch house is nearly all packed,” Ian said. “Juliana had most everything boxed up by the time she left. So it might not be too comfortable sleeping in there. But you’re welcome to stay with me, if you want.”

Memories of the nights she’d spent in his bed swept over her, warming her blood and setting a flutter in her tummy. But that wouldn’t do either of them any good. Well, maybe it would for as long as it lasted, but she couldn’t afford to get too invested in him—or anyone—at this stage in her career.

“As tempting as that might be,” she said, “I’d better pass. Besides, Juliana told me the kitchen is still in order. And the guest bed has fresh sheets. So I’ll be okay.”

“Suit yourself.”

Their gazes locked for a moment, as a lover’s moon shone brightly overhead. And while Ian didn’t say another word, she felt compelled to continue arguing her case.

“We already discussed this,” she said.

His smile dimpled his cheeks in a way that could tempt a good girl to rebel. “I didn’t say anything about sleeping with me, although I won’t turn you down if you insist.”

She clicked her tongue and returned his smile. “You’re incorrigible, Ian McAllister. You’re going to be the death of me.”

“No, I’m not. You said it yourself, a relationship between us would crash and burn. And I agreed.”

He had, and it was true. But that didn’t lessen her attraction to him, which seemed to be just as strong as it ever had been. She’d just have to ratchet up her willpower and avoid him whenever possible.

So she walked up to the porch and placed Cheyenne next to his chair. As she did so, she caught a whiff of soap and leather, musk and cowboy. Dang, downplaying their chemistry wasn’t going to be easy.

He reached for her hand, and as he did, his thumb grazed her wrist. Her heart quickened.