by Helen Lacey
Tyler shrugged in that loose way she was becoming accustomed to. “I hope he does. For everyone’s sake. Cara needs a fully engaged parent, and not someone who’ll bail when things get hard.”
She gritted her teeth. “I need to have faith in him. Maybe you can live your life not believing in anything or anyone,” she said stiffly. “But I can’t.”
One brow came up. “That’s quite a judgment.”
“I don’t know you well enough to judge you, Tyler.” Saying his name made her tremble inside. However, she continued speaking. “But I know my brother... I know that despite everything...despite the fact he hasn’t been home for five years, I know he’ll do what’s right for Cara. He was a boy when he left, but now he’s nearly twenty-four and a grown man...old enough to act with maturity and be a father to his daughter.”
“Like I said, I hope he does.”
Brooke turned back to her task and began whisking eggs to make triple cheese and green pepper omelets. Tyler offered to set the table and she nodded, sucking in a steadying breath when he came around the counter to collect silverware and the bread basket she’d filled with toasted slices of sourdough. And she tried to not think about how absurdly domestic the scene was. Other than her cousins Grady and Brant, he was the first man she’d had in her kitchen for over two years. He handled the task like he’d done it countless times before, and she figured he probably did everything with the same kind of confident ease and she envied that quality.
“Can you cook?” she asked as he set the table.
He looked up and grinned. “I can usually throw something edible together.”
“I mean, do you cook at home?” she asked.
“On the weekends mostly,” he replied. “I work long hours during the week.”
Brooke dished out the omelets, picked up the plates and moved around the counter. “You live in the city?”
“Manhattan,” he replied and took a plate and then waited for her to be seated before he sat down.
“An apartment?”
“Yes.”
She gave a wry grin. “So, Cedar River and this ranch are literally a world away from what you know?”
“I lived in a small town in Nebraska until I was sixteen,” he said and picked up a fork. “I know my way around a ranch house.”
She’d bet her boots he’d know his way around anything.
“Can you ride a horse?”
“Yes.”
“Are you one of those really annoying people who are good at everything?”
He met her gaze. “I guess time will tell.”
Brooke regarded him thoughtfully. He had to have some flaws, some part of his character that was less than perfect. “Why haven’t you gotten married?”
His mouth twisted. “That’s kind of personal, don’t you think?”
She shrugged lightly. “Just making conversation.”
He didn’t believe that any more than she did. “I guess I’ve never met anyone I’ve liked enough to want to spend the rest of my life with.”
“You mean love?” she said.
“I mean like,” he said quietly. “Love fades. It gets mixed up with attraction and desire and can make people act rashly.”
Brooke held her fork midair. “That’s a fairly grim view.”
“Realistic,” he replied, then twisted his mouth a little. “Did you love your ex-fiancé?”
“Of course.”
“Did you like him?” he asked softy. “I mean, did you like him more than anyone else you’ve ever met? Was he the last person you wanted to see before you fell asleep at night? Or the first person you wanted to see when you woke up?”
Brooke stilled instantly. His words made her think. Had she liked Doyle? She wasn’t sure. She certainly believed she’d loved him at the time and had nursed a broken heart long after he’d left. But looking back, she suspected there was something missing from their relationship. Otherwise, why would he have left so easily? There had been little resistance from him the moment his ex-girlfriend had come to town and announced they had a child together. Of course Brooke understood his desire to be a father to his son and had encouraged him to foster a relationship with his child...but she hadn’t expected him to sprint out the door and discard her so easily.
“Are you okay?”
Brooke blinked, realizing there was moisture in her eyes and that Tyler Madden had witnessed them. She sucked in a deep breath. “I’m fine. And I suppose I must have liked him a little at the time, otherwise it might have made accepting his proposal a little awkward.”
Tyler chuckled and the sound did something to her insides. He really was ridiculously sexy. And Brooke knew she had to stop thinking about him like that, or she was in danger of making a complete idiot of herself.
And she wasn’t about to be a fool over a man ever again.
Chapter Five
Tyler stretched out on the bed and stared at the ceiling. It was early, not yet six thirty, but he’d been dozing off and on for over an hour. Cara had stirred a couple of times during the night and he’d gone to her each time he’d heard her whimpering through the static of the baby monitor. The mattress was lumpy and narrow—only a double bed. When he remembered the king-size comfort of the bed at O’Sullivans he wondered what kind of craziness had made him move into Brooke Laughton’s ranch house.
Indigo eyes...
Yeah...he needed to forget all about her sultry eyes and sexy curves in a hurry.
Swinging out of bed, Tyler planted his feet on the floor. Cold air hit his bare arms and he grabbed the sweater from the end of the bed where he’d tossed it the night before, shoving his arms into the sleeves. Six days, he thought, and he was gone. If Matt Laughton didn’t show he would be on his way home this time next week, back in his apartment, his office, his own bed and the life he’d put on hold because he’d made a promise to an old man and a dying girl.
He shook off the thought and finished getting dressed, pulling on jeans, socks and boots. Then he grabbed the baby monitor and left the room, checking on a sleeping Cara before he headed down the hall. The scent of freshly brewed coffee assailed his senses and he spotted an enameled pot sitting by the stove. A light was on, which meant Brooke was up, and he ducked back out into the hall and checked the front living room. The room was empty so he returned to the kitchen, placed the monitor on the counter, poured himself a mug of coffee and stood by the window, looking out over the yard. Snow was falling, a little heavier than the day before, and when he noticed that his rental car was covered in a thick layer of the stuff he made a mental note to get outside as soon as Cara was awake and fed and clear the snow off.
A flash of color near the stables caught his attention. It was Brooke. In jeans, pink rubber boots and a bright pink hooded anorak she looked like a lovely beacon set against the backdrop of snow and stables. It made him smile, although he had no idea why. Maybe because she didn’t seem to be the kind of woman who would favor the color pink. She carried a small basket and a pitchfork and the dogs were jumping around her excitedly.
He stayed where he was, absorbed by the image of her determined strides and straight back. There was something about the way she held herself that captivated him. The tilt of her chin, the square of her shoulders, the slight swing of her arms...it evoked a picture of a resilient, independent woman and someone very much in her element outdoors. There was nothing pretentious about Brooke...nothing fake...nothing other than strength and integrity in her demeanor. She was a good person. And realizing that fact made an already complicated situation even more so.
The night before he’d gotten to know her a little better over a rubbery omelet, witnessing her mood shift from tense to humorous and companionable and then to a little sad. There had been tears in her eyes when she’d spoken about her ex-fiancé and he didn’t like the way those tea
rs had made him feel. Helpless, for one, especially when she’d quickly finished the meal and then soon after disappeared to her room pleading a headache and the need for rest. He’d helped her clean up and then headed to his own room feeling like they’d somehow ended the evening on a sour note. He wasn’t sure why it should matter, but the idea still kept him tossing and turning for most of the night, in between getting up to check on Cara.
Tyler didn’t want to be at odds with Brooke. She was his way of connecting with Matt and seeing if the younger man could actually be a parent to Cara. They needed to get along. Which meant he had to make more of an effort to be civil and not so prickly. But she set him on edge with her deep purple eyes and obvious disapproval.
When she came back through the mudroom about ten minutes later, Tyler was on his second cup of coffee and ignored the way his blood warmed when she trudged into the kitchen, boots off, tugging at the chin cord on her anorak. Her cheeks were pink and her lovely hair was escaping its ponytail. He looked at her feet and smiled to himself at the sight of her fuchsia-colored socks.
“I thought you like to sleep in on Sunday mornings?” he asked as he moved around the countertop, then grabbed a mug from the cupboard and poured her coffee, adding milk and sugar.
She shrugged out of her coat and hung it on a hook by the door. “I do,” she said and pointed to the clock on the wall. “I was up at six...that’s an hour later than usual and quite decadent for me.”
He frowned. “You start your day at five a.m.? Are you nuts?”
She laughed loudly and it made him grin. “I have six horses, two dogs, a few dozen head of cattle and seven chickens...so lazy mornings are not on my radar. But don’t hold back here, Tyler...say it how you see it.”
“As a rule, I generally do.”
She pushed back some of her wayward hair and took the mug. Their knuckles touched and he was startled by the instant response he felt across his skin. He tried to recall the last time he’d had such an intense reaction to a woman. Maybe never. It didn’t make sense. She wasn’t his type. He liked brunettes, not blondes. He liked professional women who were immaculately groomed and wore high-fashion stiletto heels. Not freckle-faced cowgirls with flushed cheeks and who wore silly pink socks.
She was looking up at him, her expression curious, and her chin, defiant and determined, rose in that way he was becoming used to. Tyler swallowed hard, felt tension and awareness snake up his spine as he tried to tamp down what he was feeling for her. But to no avail. It was there, in the space between them and in the molecules of air they shared. And he knew she felt it, too. He also knew she was trying just as hard to ignore it. After all, being attracted to each other was futile. He was leaving in less than a week and she had a whole lot going on in her life and couldn’t afford the distraction. It should have been enough to make both of them step away. But they didn’t.
His gaze moved to her mouth and he noticed how her lips parted fractionally, as though she knew exactly what he was thinking about. Which was kissing her. Long and hard and hot.
Desire coursed through his blood, quickly scrambling his brain. He moved suddenly and backed into the table, feeling simultaneously turned on and foolish.
I need to get control of this...and fast.
“Heard from your brother yet?” he asked coolly, shifting the subject and watching her expression change from curious to annoyed.
She stepped back and shrugged lightly. “He hasn’t answered my texts yet.”
“He’s got six more days.”
“So you keep reminding me,” she said, her eyes flashing as she sipped her coffee.
He pressed on. “For Cara’s sake I have to put a time frame around this, Brooke. If your brother returns your calls, then perhaps we can resolve this situation quickly. Which would be better for everyone.”
“Everyone?” she echoed. “Are you missing the city already?”
“I have a life to get back to,” he replied, ignoring the irritation crawling up his back. She certainly had a way of getting under his skin. “As do you. And frankly, I don’t want the reason I’m here to get mixed up with anything else.”
She glared at him. “Mixed up? What does that mean?”
Tyler wasn’t sure how he could respond without sounding like a self-centered fool. But he was pretty sure she knew exactly what he meant. “I think you know.”
He watched, fascinated as color crept up her neck and smacked her cheeks. Her eyes glittered vibrantly. “That’s...absurd.”
“Is it?”
She sucked in a sharp breath. “If you’re insinuating that I’m...that I think you’re...that I’m interested in anything other than my niece, then you are way off the mark.”
He didn’t believe her. She didn’t look like she believed it, either. Tyler had his fair share of ego, but he’d never considered himself particularly egotistical. And if Brooke was too uncomfortable to acknowledge what was building between them, then he wasn’t going to push the subject. “Okay, fair enough. Just making sure we’re on the same page in regard to this situation.”
“Is that lawyer code for making me feel like crap?”
Tyler stilled. “That’s not the first time you’ve aimed a hit at my profession. Do you have a thing against lawyers?”
Her chin came up. “I have a thing against being made to feel as though I’m on trial,” she said heatedly. “As though I have to impress you. Yesterday you said we were on the same side... This morning you’re behaving like a complete jerk.”
The truth in her words burned through him. She was right. It was Matt Laughton who needed to prove he could be a parent to Cara... It was unfair to expect the same of Brooke. But she got under his skin in ways he hadn’t been prepared for. Obviously the less time they spent together, the better.
“Unintentional,” he said and drained his coffee mug when he heard the baby through the monitor. “I need to check on Cara.”
She nodded. “I’ll get her bottle ready. And perhaps some oatmeal?”
Tyler nodded. “Sure. Like I said, she’ll eat most things. Be back soon.”
He left the room, eager to get away from her. And feeling for one of the few times in his life like he was in way over his head.
* * *
By the time Tyler returned to the kitchen with Cara in his arms, Brooke had had a ten-minute reprieve to pull herself together plus the opportunity to dilute the irritation coursing through her blood. Damn him. It was as though every conversation they had turned into a sparring match. Brooke knew she needed to keep a lid on her emotions and not allow him to see how he affected her. The night before he’d seen her tears...this morning her temper. When what she really needed to do was keep calm and try to get along with him for the sake of her niece. Tyler held all the cards. He could leave at any moment and she would lose the opportunity to get to know Cara...which was unthinkable.
With that thought Brooke texted her brother again.
“Everything okay?” he asked and settled Cara in the high chair he’d set up the afternoon before.
“Just fine,” she said and slipped her cell phone into her pocket. “Oatmeal is ready, bottle almost done.”
He nodded and settled back in a chair while Brooke finished getting the bottle ready and then supervised Cara’s breakfast. The baby splattered food on the floor, the high chair and down her bib. And despite the palpable tension between Tyler and herself, Brooke was captivated by Cara’s laughter and enjoyment as the baby smeared oatmeal everywhere she could reach.
When she was done, Tyler suggested she take Cara into the front living room while he cleaned up. She didn’t bother resisting the idea. Brooke wanted to spend as much time as possible with her niece and he deserved to do house chores after behaving like a conceited horse’s ass earlier. What was he thinking? That Brooke was so enamored with his green eyes and broad shoulde
rs she’d forget why he was at her home in the first place? So, maybe she had spared him the odd appreciative look. She was a red-blooded woman, after all. But that’s all it was...a few curious looks and an awareness of his obvious physical appeal. He was sexy as sin. But that’s where her interest ended. If they’d met at a bar or a party and connected in some way, she may have been tempted to come out of sexual hibernation and pursue whatever road the attraction took. But they hadn’t met that way. And there was too much at stake for Brooke to get distracted by physical attraction for a man she hardly knew. A man who represented everything she feared most.
It was better to ignore it. Better to forget it.
Besides, he obviously had no real interest in her. Whatever he was thinking, Brooke had no illusions about herself. She was average in the beauty stakes and had been out of the loop for so long when it came to men she had no real idea how to act around one. Plus, she was essentially a tomboy. Handy with a pair of fence cutters or a hammer and nails, but spent little time preening or marketing herself as an available woman. Doyle had always said he liked her low-maintenance, down-to-earth ways. As had the one other boyfriend she’d had before him. But a man like Tyler—a big-city lawyer with the reputation of a wolf—wouldn’t be content with a country-bred woman...he’d prefer Park Avenue style. Not that she cared one bit. He could prefer whoever he wanted.
“Brooke?”
She turned once she’d settled Cara on the couch with a bottle. Tyler stood in the doorway, one shoulder resting against the jamb. There was something so elementally masculine about him and she remembered how only days ago she’d thought him some kind of pretty boy with little substance. But he wasn’t. There was an air of quiet confidence around him that affected her in a way she couldn’t quite define. Finding him attractive was one thing...liking him, another thing altogether. She didn’t have the time to like anyone.
Brooke took a deep breath. “Cara seems settled,” she said and gestured to the baby lying restfully on the sofa, her bottle between her tiny hands.
