Max was still talking. “Sarah, Logan here is a self-made man. He grew up on our ranch in Texas, but he couldn’t wait to get out on his own. Earned his fortune in Seattle, in real estate.”
Logan chuckled. “Shut up, Dad.”
Max didn’t miss a beat. “Son, why don’t you and Sarah go on into town? Take her to the donut shop. You can firm up your dinner plans over bear claws and coffee.”
Sarah opened her mouth to give both father and son a firm no when a baby’s cry from the back room did it for her.
“Huh?” Max blinked in surprise. “That sounds like a—”
“Excuse me.” Sarah pulled her hand free of Logan’s warm grip and managed a breezy smile. “My little girl wants her mother.” Turning neatly on her heel, she headed for the back room.
Was she disappointed that a certain dreamboat of a man was bound to lose interest fast when faced with a crying baby?
A little, maybe. But not that disappointed.
Really, it was for the best.
* * *
Logan Crawford watched Sarah’s bouncing ponytail as she trotted away from him. What was it about her? Those big golden-brown eyes, all that shining bronze hair? That smile she had that was shy and devilish simultaneously? Damned if that smile didn’t dare him to kiss her.
He would take that dare at the first opportunity.
Was she married?
He hadn’t seen a ring—and yeah, the baby kind of gave him pause.
But not that much of a pause. He could work around the baby. As long as she was single, well, why shouldn’t the two of them have a little fun? Nothing lasted forever and he liked it that way.
It was chemistry, pure and simple. Sexual attraction. And damn, it felt good.
His dad was still talking to the other two women, while Xander just stood there looking midway between vaguely intrigued and slightly annoyed by what they were saying.
Logan, on the other hand, felt downright invigorated. He hadn’t felt like this in years. Maybe never. Lately, he’d been kind of off his game when it came to women. He just had no drive to hook up and hadn’t been with anyone in months.
But everything had changed the minute he set eyes on Sarah.
Just let her be single. That was all he asked.
She emerged from the back room with a backpack-style diaper bag hanging off one shoulder, a giant leather tote dangling from one hand and a pouty-faced infant in a baby carrier on the other arm. “Sorry, everyone. We’ll just be going.”
Uh-uh. Not yet. In four strides, Logan reached her. “Here. Let me help you.” The baby stuck a fist in her mouth and stared up at him, wide-eyed.
“No, really.” Sarah seemed flustered. Her cheeks had turned the sweetest shade of pink. “There’s no need. I’m good.”
He ignored her objections and eased the diaper bag off her shoulder. “What’s her name?” He took hold of the tote. For a moment, she held on like she wouldn’t let him take it.
But then she let go. “Sophia,” she said. “Her name is Sophia.”
“Pretty name. How old is she?” He wiggled his eyebrows at the baby, who had a pink cloth flower tied around her mostly bald head.
“Five months,” said Sarah.
The baby took her slobbery hand out of her mouth long enough to announce, “Ah-da!” and stuck it right back in.
Behind him, his dad started flapping his jaws again, apologizing for trying to set them up. “I’m so sorry, Sarah. I didn’t see a ring on your finger and I assumed—”
“You assumed right,” Sarah responded coolly. “I’m not married.”
Excellent. “But are you engaged?” Logan rattled off the pertinent questions. “Living with someone? Dating exclusively?”
“None of the above,” she replied. “It’s just me and Sophia.” As if on cue, the little girl let out a goofy giggle around the fist in her mouth. Sarah added, delectably defiant, “Just us. And we like it that way.”
So she’s free. It was all Logan needed to know.
Unfortunately—and for no reason Logan could understand—Max moved in next to him. “Son, Sarah has to go. Give her back her things.”
Not happening. Not yet. “Give us a minute, would you, Dad?” He turned his back on his father and moved in closer to Sarah and little Sophia. That caused Sarah to retreat a step. Logan closed the distance. The process repeated—Sarah retreating, Logan eliminating the space she’d created—until they reached the door.
A glance over his shoulder revealed that Max had started talking to the wedding planners again. His dad and the blonde wedding planner shook hands. Logan made a mental note to find out what that was about as he turned his attention back to the irresistible brown-eyed girl.
She said, “I really do have to go.”
Logan held on to her tote and diaper bag and started talking, pulling out all the stops, flirting shamelessly with both the woman and her baby. He made silly faces at Sophia as he coaxed information from Sarah, learning that she’d moved back to Rust Creek Falls a month before and had a cottage in town.
“Truly, Logan.” Sarah’s pretty white teeth nibbled nervously at her plump lower lip, driving him just a little bit crazy. He wanted to nibble on that lip himself. “I’m not interested in dating. I’m way too busy for anything like that.”
He nodded. “I understand. Let me help you out to your car.”
“No, that’s not necessary.”
“Yeah, it is. You’ve got too much to carry and I’ve got a couple of perfectly good free hands.”
Her sweet mouth twisted with indecision—and then she gave up. “Well, um, okay. Thank you.”
He walked her out to her white CR-V and waited while she strapped the baby’s carrier in the back seat, handing her the giant bag and backpack when she was ready for them. She set them on the floor, shut the door and went around to the driver’s door. Admiring the view, Logan followed after her.
“Well,” she said with an overly bright smile as he held open the door for her. “Good luck, then—with the ranch and all.”
“’Preciate that,” he replied. She jumped in behind the wheel, her denim skirt riding up a little, giving him a perfect glimpse of one smooth, shapely thigh. “Drive safe,” he said and shut the door.
She waved as she pulled out. He stood in the warm June sunlight, watching her drive away, thinking that he would be good for her, that she needed to get out and have some fun.
Sarah Turner deserved a little romance in her life and Logan Crawford was just the man to give her what she deserved.
Chapter Two
“Logan, it’s a bad idea,” his father said. “You need to forget about Sarah Turner.”
It was past six that evening. Logan, his dad and Xander were out on the porch of the ranch house at the Ambling A enjoying a beer after spending a few hours plowing through the stacks of boxes that weren’t going to unpack themselves. At some point, one of them needed to go inside and hustle up a meal. But for now, it was nice out and the beer was ice-cold and refreshing.
Logan stared off toward the snow-tipped mountains. The sky was cloudless, perfectly blue. “I like her, Dad. And it’s not your call.” He didn’t point out that he was a grown-ass man and would do what he damn well wanted to do. Max ought to know that by now. “I’m curious, though. She’s single, smart and pretty. She works for a living. She’s got it all going on as far as I can see. What have you got against her?”
“Nothing,” Max answered gruffly. “You’re right. She seems like a fine person.”
Xander rocked back in his chair and hoisted his boots up onto the porch rail. “So what’s the problem then, Dad? I was standing right there when you struck that crazy deal with the wedding planners to find us all brides for a cool million bucks. To me, that means you want us all to get married. Whether that’s ever gonna happen is another question entirely. But
the way I see it, if Logan’s found a girl already, you should count your blessings.”
A million dollars to marry them off? Logan hadn’t heard that part. Sometimes his dad came up with the wildest ideas. Logan had no plans to marry anybody. But that wasn’t the point. He followed Xander’s lead. “Yeah, Dad. You were eager enough to hook Sarah and me up until the baby started crying.”
Max sipped his beer. “I do want you boys married. It’s about damn time. But when kids are involved, well, things get too complicated.” He pointed his longneck at Logan. “Take my word for it, son. You don’t need that kind of trouble. Viv will find you someone perfect—someone sweet and pretty without a baby hanging off her hip.”
“I’ll say it again, Dad. I like Sarah and I’m going to move on that.”
“I don’t want you—”
“Stop. Listen. There is no problem here. You don’t want me marrying Sarah Turner? Great. I’m not going to marry her—or anyone. The last thing I want right now is a wife, with or without a baby in the bargain, so you can save that million bucks. When my time comes to tie the knot—if it ever does—I’ll find my own bride. I don’t need anyone setting me up.”
Xander recrossed his boots on the railing. “That’s too bad. Because Dad’s got that wedding planner setting us all up.”
Logan leveled a warning look on his dad. “Are you listening? Because you ought to know your own sons better than that. I think I can speak for all six of us when I say that we’re not letting anyone choose brides for us—not you, Dad, and not those two wedding planners back at the train depot.”
“Nobody’s choosing for you,” Max insisted. “Viv and Caroline are just going to be introducing you to some lovely young single ladies. You should thank me for making it so easy for you to develop social connections in our new hometown.”
Xander grunted. “Social connections? You’re kind of scaring me now, Dad.”
“I just don’t get it,” Logan said to Max. “For years, you’ve been going on about how marriage is a trap—and now suddenly you’re shelling out a million bucks to make sure we’ve each got a wife?”
“Yeah.” Xander scowled. “Seriously, Dad. You need to cut that crap out.”
“Don’t get on me, boys.” Max assumed a wounded expression, but he didn’t say he would give up his matchmaking scheme.
Not that Logan really expected him to. Unfortunately, once Maximilian Crawford got an idea in his head, telling him to cut it out wouldn’t stop him.
They would have to warn their brothers that Max had brokered a marriage deal for all of them and they shouldn’t be surprised to find a lot of “lovely single ladies” popping up every time they turned around.
Just then, a quad cab rolled into the yard. A tall, solidly built cowboy got out.
Max stood from his chair. “Nate Crawford. Thanks for coming.”
The guy did have that Crawford look about him—strong and square-jawed. He joined them on the porch. Max offered him a beer. They made small talk for a few minutes.
Nate, Logan learned, was a mover and shaker in Rust Creek Falls. He owned controlling interest in the upscale hotel just south of town called Maverick Manor. Logan thought Nate seemed a little reserved. He couldn’t tell for sure whether that was because Nate was just one of those self-contained types—or because Max’s reputation had preceded him.
Logan loved his dad, but Max was no white knight. The man was a world-class manipulator and more than a bit of a scamp. Yeah, he’d made himself a fortune over the years—but there was no doubt he’d done more than one shady deal.
Yet people were drawn to him. Take Logan and his brothers. They were always complaining about Max’s crazy schemes. Yet somehow Max had convinced each one of them to make this move to Montana.
For Logan, it was partly a matter of timing. He’d been between projects in Seattle and ready for a change. When Max had offered a stake in a Montana cattle ranch, Logan had packed his bags and headed for Big Sky Country.
If nothing else, he’d thought it would be good for him to get some time with his brothers. And yeah, he couldn’t help wondering what wild scheme his dad might be cooking up now.
Never in a thousand years would Logan have guessed that Max had decided to marry them all off.
Max clapped Nate on the shoulder. “I really do appreciate your dropping by. Wanted to touch base, you know? Family does matter, after all. And now that me and the boys are settling in the area, we’d like to get to know you and everyone else in the family here.”
“How about this?” Nate offered. “Saturday night. Dinner at Maverick Manor. The Rust Creek Falls Crawfords will all be there.”
“That’ll work,” said Max. “My other four boys will be up from Texas with the breeding stock by then. Expect all seven of us.”
“Looking forward to it.” Nate raised his beer and Max tapped it with his.
* * *
The next morning at nine sharp, Logan paid a visit to Falls Mountain Accounting.
The door was unlocked, so he walked right in.
Inside, he found a deserted waiting room presided over by an empty front desk with a plaque on it that read, Florence Turner, Office Manager. The door with Sarah’s name on it was wide open. No sign of his favorite accountant, though.
The door next to Sarah’s was shut. The nameplate on that one read Mack Turner, Accountant. Something was going on inside that office. Faintly, Logan heard muffled moans and sighs.
A woman’s voice cried softly, “Oh, yes. Yes, my darling. Yes, my love. Yes, yes, yes!”
Logan debated whether to turn and run—or stick around just to see who emerged from behind that door.
Wait a minute. What if it was Sarah carrying on in there?
It had damn well better not be.
He dropped into one of the waiting room chairs—and then couldn’t sit still. Rising again, he tossed his hat on the chair and paced the room.
What was this he was feeling—like his skin was too tight and he wanted to punch someone?
Jealousy?
Not happening. Logan Crawford had never been the jealous type.
He was...curious, that’s all, he reassured himself as he marched back to his chair, scooped up his hat and sat down again.
The sounds from behind the shut door reached a muted crescendo and finally stopped.
A few minutes later, a flushed, dewy-eyed older woman who looked quite a bit like Sarah emerged from Mack Turner’s office. Her brown hair needed combing and her silky shirt was half-untucked.
“Oh!” Her blush deepened as she spotted Logan. “I, um...” She tugged in her shirt and patted at her hair. “I’m so sorry. Just, um, going over the calendar for the day. I’m Florence Turner.”
Hiding his grin, he rose again. She marched straight for him, arm outstretched.
“Logan Crawford,” he said as they shook.
“Please just call me Flo. I manage the office. We’re a family business, just my husband, our daughter, Sarah, and me.” Flo put extra heavy emphasis on the word husband. Apparently, she wanted to make it perfectly clear that whatever he’d heard going on behind Mack Turner’s door was sanctioned by marriage. “Are you here to see Mack?”
“I’m waiting for Sarah.”
“Oh! Did you have an appointment?”
“Not exactly.” He tried a rueful smile.
“Well, I apologize for the mix-up, but Sarah has meetings with clients—all day, I think she said.”
“Really? That’s inconvenient.” He patted his pockets. “I seem to have lost my phone.” He’d left it in the truck, but Flo didn’t need to know that.
“Oh, I’m so sorry,” Sarah’s mom said.
“Unfortunately, that means now I don’t have Sarah’s cell number...” Okay, yeah. He’d never had a cell number for her. But it was only a little lie.
And it wo
rked like a charm. Flo whipped out Sarah’s business card. It had her office, home and cell numbers on it.
“You’re a lifesaver. Thank you.”
“Any time, Logan—and you’re more than welcome to use the phone on my desk.”
“Uh, no. I need a coffee. I’ll use the pay phone at the donut shop up the street.”
That was another lie. He called her from his truck as soon as he was out of sight of Falls Mountain Accounting.
* * *
Sarah was with a client when the call came in from an unknown number. She let it go straight to voice mail. The day was a busy one, appointments stacked up one after the other.
When she finally checked messages in the late afternoon, she found one from Logan.
“Hello, Sarah. It’s Logan Crawford. Call me back when you get a minute.”
She played it through twice, sitting in her white CR-V with Sophia snoozing in the back seat. His voice, so calm and commanding, made her feel strangely breathless.
The truth was, she hadn’t been able to stop thinking of him, of the way he’d looked at her, like she was the only person in the room, of the way he’d kept hold of her hand when there was no excuse for him to be holding it beyond the fact that he wanted to. She’d loved how he’d been so sweet to Sophia and that he’d insisted on carrying her diaper bag and tote out to the car.
Plus, well, he was way too good-looking and she hadn’t been with a man in over a year.
The plan was to give up men, after all. At least for a decade or so—maybe longer.
And really, hadn’t she made her unavailability perfectly clear to him?
Annoyed and flustered and oddly gleeful all at the same time, she called him back.
“Hello, Sarah.”
“Hi, Logan. How did you get my number?”
“I stopped by your office. Your mom gave me your card.” Dear Lord in heaven, his voice. It was so smooth, like raw honey. She pictured it pouring from a mason jar, all sweet and thick and slow. And then he added, “Your mom and dad are obviously very happy together.”
Her Favorite Maverick Page 2
