by Marin Thomas
“Why...how...when—”
He pressed a finger against her lips. “Why...because you’re the mother of my child. How...I had money saved up, which I used for a down payment. When...I contacted a Realtor last week and she showed me the house. I thought it could easily be turned into a gift shop.”
“What was the down payment?”
“Don’t worry, I’m not destitute.” He chuckled. “You won’t have to support me.”
“This isn’t funny, Gavin.”
“I didn’t buy this property to make you cry.”
“No, you did this because you felt sorry for me, didn’t you?” Dixie backed up a step. “Stupid Dixie gets taken to the cleaners by an online scammer and—”
“I never said you were stupid.”
“But you thought it.” She wiped a tear from her cheek. “I don’t know where I’m going to get the money to pay you back.”
“I don’t want to be paid back.” Gavin wouldn’t allow Dixie’s pride to stand in the way of him helping her.
“I can’t accept this as a gift.”
Thinking quick on his feet, Gavin said, “I didn’t buy this for you, Dixie. I bought this for the baby, so our child would have the security he or she deserves.” Sort of the truth...in a roundabout way.
“What do you mean?”
“I agreed to pay child support but I wanted you to have a means of supporting yourself.”
“I’ve taken care of myself since my grandmother passed away. I don’t need you or—”
“Before you say anything more, check out the place. If you don’t believe this will work for a gift shop then I’ll have the Realtor put the property back on the market.”
She gasped. “You already signed the papers?”
He nodded.
Dixie looked away first. Gavin wished he knew what was going on in her pretty head, but he stood there like a dope, waiting for her to make the next move. She did—in the direction of the kitchen. Gavin remained in the front room.
Way to go, idiot. He’d expected his gift to make Dixie happy. Instead, he’d upset her. Gavin shuffled to the front window and glanced down the block. The streetlights had come on and local businesses were locking their doors.
Had he misread the situation? He’d sworn he’d heard passion and excitement in Dixie’s voice when she’d told him about her plans to market her grandmother’s soaps. He’d thought for sure she’d be thrilled to manage her own business.
“Gavin?” Dixie’s silhouette darkened the kitchen doorway.
“What?”
“It’s perfect.”
Chest aching with relief, he said, “Good. Because your brothers are meeting me here tomorrow and we’re working on the place.”
Dixie moved toward him and he met her in the middle of the room. “I’ll help, too,” she said.
“You’ll be busy making soap.” He cupped her cheek. “You need inventory before you open a business.”
“You’re right. I’ll need to stock up on supplies and, oh, there’s a new soap mold in a catalog I’ve been eyeing. Then Christmas is right around the corner and—”
Gavin leaned in and kissed Dixie. He’d wanted to kiss her all day. He intended to keep it light and innocent but Dixie hugged him, pressing her breasts to his chest and he lost all self-control. He backed her up against the wall and nudged his thigh between her legs. She moaned, her arms squeezing his neck harder when he threaded his fingers through her hair. He could have kissed her forever if he hadn’t needed air to breathe. Gasping, he pulled away. “Everything will work out, Dixie. You’ll see.”
Chapter Nine
“I don’t know what to say.” Dixie clung to Gavin. She never expected to sell her grandmother’s soaps in a boutique—that’s why she’d attempted to start an internet business. After being scammed out of five-thousand dollars she’d believed her promise to her grandmother would never be realized. Now Gavin was bringing her dream back to life in an amazing way.
In light of his kindness, how could she not give Gavin the benefit of the doubt and try to make their relationship work? Of course there were risks involved—mainly to her heart. Dixie slammed the door on her negative thoughts. She’d spent an entire day with Gavin and not once had she wished to be anywhere else. Not once had she worried about her and the baby’s future or how she intended to support herself. With Gavin by her side she felt secure and safe. She tightened her hold and kissed his cheek, his five o’clock shadow tickling her nose.
Gavin threaded his fingers through her hair, and holding her head in place he plunged his tongue into her mouth. Lord, the cowboy could kiss. Careful... She’d best move slowly with Gavin or physical desire would shove aside common sense and she’d fall head over heels in love. Then where would she be if he changed his mind about her and the baby and decided he wanted nothing to do with them?
The reservations still existed—a part of her feared Gavin wouldn’t always be there for her and their child—but buying this property proved he wanted to make her happy. Clinging to that scrap of hope Dixie decided the only surefire way to know if Gavin was with her for the long haul was to stop throwing roadblocks in his way and open her heart to him.
He broke off the kiss. “We’d better slow down, honey.”
“I don’t want to.” She locked gazes with him, hoping he’d read the sincerity in her eyes.
“I didn’t buy this property to coax you into my bed,” he said.
“This has nothing to do with the shop.” And everything to do with giving our baby...us...a chance to be a real family.
Gavin dipped his head and kissed her neck. “If and when we make love, it won’t be against a wall or on the hard floor.”
“Let’s go back to the farm.”
“And have your brothers stand outside your bedroom door eavesdropping?” He nuzzled her neck.
Gavin was right—her brothers would be a problem. “What about the barn?”
He grinned. “How many gentlemen friends have you entertained in the hayloft?”
“You’d be the first.” Gavin was the first man she’d slept with who was skilled in bed, and unlike her mother’s boyfriends he hadn’t run from his responsibility.
“I’m tempted to roll in the hay with you, but we can’t forget the baby. You’ve had a long day and need a good night’s sleep.”
Dixie dropped her gaze before Gavin read the disappointment in her eyes. How were they supposed to grow closer if he always thought of the baby before her? Determined to give it one more try, she stood on tiptoes and poured her heart and soul into her kiss.
Gavin responded with gusto, snuggling her body against his arousal. But a few seconds later he stepped back and winked. “Once this place is fixed up, we’ll christen it properly.”
Heart breaking, Dixie said, “I’m going to hold you to your promise.”
“Honey, that’s one promise I intend to keep.”
* * *
“WELL IF IT ISN’T THE newest entrepreneur in town.”
The unenthusiastic statement greeted Dixie Monday morning when she stopped in at Ed’s Graphic and Design, a printing shop on Main Street in Yuma. “Hello, Mrs. Hinkle.”
Mildred Hinkle owned the Penny Saver Market across the street from Susie’s Souvenirs. Last year she’d asked Mrs. Hinkle if she’d sell Dixie’s organic soaps in her store but the old woman had snubbed her nose at Dixie’s request.
“I hear you plan to sell those little soaps you make in that run-down hovel at the end of the street.” Mildred frowned, her wrinkled mouth drawing into a pucker.
Only two days had passed since Gavin had revealed his surprise—darned if Dixie would allow Mrs. Hinkle to put a damper on her excitement. “Yes, I’m turning the house into a gift shop.” And since she had more space than she needed for just
the soaps, Dixie planned to experiment with other products and develop a line of bath salts and lotions as well as doing custom-made gift baskets. She was even considering offering do-it-yourself classes on organic soap-making.
“Have you decided on a name for your business?” Ed, the owner of the printing shop stepped from the back room.
“I have.” She smiled at the tall, middle-age man. “Dixie’s Desert Delights.”
“That sounds right nice.”
Dixie ignored Mildred’s scoff.
“I’m guessing you’re here to order a sign to hang out front of your business,” Ed said.
“I was hoping—”
“Make sure she follows the rules the chamber of commerce created,” Mrs. Hinkle interrupted. “Your sign has to be the same size as the rest of the businesses along Main Street.” She gathered her sales flyers and marched out the door.
“Don’t pay attention to Mildred. She doesn’t want anyone’s business outshining hers.”
Dixie hadn’t considered that other merchants might view her as a threat. She guessed with the struggling economy that most people were pinching pennies and local businesses had to compete for customers.
“I hear your brothers are busy sprucing up the place.”
“The inspection report on the property wasn’t bad,” Dixie said. “The wiring has to be updated, but the structure itself is sound.”
Ed pulled out a three-ring binder from beneath the counter. “What kind of sign are you interested in and what’s your budget?”
“I was thinking of a design that resembled one of my gift-wrapped soaps.” She removed a bar from her coat pocket.
Ed studied the soap. “It’s doable. What colors did you have in mind?”
“The cinder block is being painted an olive-green so I thought rose for the tissue paper color and buttercream for the bow.”
“Black lettering?” Ed asked.
“No, chocolate-brown.”
“That’ll work. After I create the design you can make any last-minute changes.”
“Do I have a choice of font styles?”
Ed flipped through the binder, then spun the book toward Dixie.
After perusing the pages, she pointed to a script she believed her grandmother would have approved of. “I like this one.” There was a touch of feminine flourish to each letter yet the font was bold, clean and readable.
“I’ll have this finished by the end of the business day tomorrow.”
“And the cost?”
“Depends on the size,” Ed said.
“Mrs. Hinkle said the sign had to be the same dimensions as others along the block.”
“That’s just Mildred bellyaching. You can have any size sign you want.”
“What about the chamber of commerce? I can’t afford a fine.”
“The only rule the chamber enforces is that a business sign can’t block a traffic light. Other than that buy whatever size you can afford.”
“Since I’m the farthest away from the middle of town I’d like the biggest sign.”
“That’ll run you twelve hundred. Included in the price are the poles and hardware to attach it to the shop and a special UV coating to prevent the colors from fading in the sun.”
Twelve hundred was a lot of money. “I’ll think about it and let you know when I stop in tomorrow to view the design.”
“Sure thing.”
“Thanks, Ed.” Dixie left the print shop and strolled down the block, studying the signs hanging outside each business. When she reached Dixie’s Desert Delights she decided she needed to purchase the largest sign. The twelve hundred dollars would have to go on her credit card.
“Watch out.” Johnny rounded the corner of the house, carrying a load of two-by-fours. She followed him inside.
Her brothers and Gavin had made remarkable progress in less than forty-eight hours and the once neglected house was becoming a quaint little gift shop. Fresh paint, repairs to the fireplace and new shelving mounted on the walls gave the inside a cozy feel. “Where’s Gavin?” she asked after Johnny laid the boards on the floor.
“Outside talking to the plumber.”
The last she’d heard, the toilet flushed fine. “What’s wrong with the plumbing?”
“Not sure.” Johnny nodded to the pile of wood. “Where do you want the counter for the cash register?”
“By the back wall facing the front door.”
“Makes sense.” Johnny began taking measurements. “When Merle gets here send him over to the hardware store. Gavin’s got an order of supplies waiting to be picked up.” Johnny finished measuring, then left to fetch another load of wood.
Our dream is coming true, Grandma.
“Hey, you’re here.” Gavin stepped through the kitchen doorway wearing no shirt and a tool belt slung low on his jean-clad hips. If rodeo didn’t work out for him he’d make a sexy handyman. He grinned when he caught her staring and her pulse skipped a beat.
“I ordered a sign for the front of the shop.” As if Gavin sported a huge magnet glued to his chest, Dixie’s feet glided across the floor. She stopped before him and brushed at an imaginary speck of dirt sticking to his sweaty shoulder. Her fingers lingered longer than necessary—ever since she’d decided to give her relationship with Gavin a real chance, she couldn’t resist touching him.
“Porter and Buck took off.” Gavin’s gaze fastened onto Dixie’s mouth and she swayed closer.
Mesmerized by his dark eyes, she said, “That wasn’t nice of them to leave you shorthanded.”
“I asked Buck to keep Porter busy. Your brother means well but he can’t hammer nails worth a damn.”
“I’ll help you.”
“Thanks, but I don’t want to take any chance of you hurting yourself.”
There he went...worrying about the baby.
“Once the shop is finished, you’ll be busy setting up your inventory.” He stroked a finger across her cheek and her skin tingled at the simple caress. “Have lunch with me.”
Hypnotized by his brown eyes Dixie nodded. The batch of cinnamon-citrus soap waiting in the barn back at the farm could wait a while longer. “I’ll grab sandwiches from the deli across the street.”
“Give me a half hour.” He kissed the tip of her nose and walked off, leaving her yearning for more. When she turned away she caught Johnny spying at the front door.
“Why the change of heart?” her brother asked.
“What are you talking about?”
“You and Gavin. You’re acting lovey-dovey all of a sudden. A week ago you bristled when he got too close.”
Dixie wasn’t about to share her feelings with her brother.
“You two decide on a wedding date?” Johnny asked.
A few days ago Dixie would have balked at going through with a wedding. Now the ceremony was a real possibility. “Not yet.” She crinkled her nose. “You’ll be the first to know when we do.” She stopped at the door. “I’m off to the deli.”
“I’ll take a—”
“Sorry, you’re on your own for lunch.” She closed the front door behind her, ignoring her brother’s scowl.
Thirty minutes later, deli food in hand, Dixie entered the backyard behind the shop. She placed the food on a stone wall beneath the shade of a piñon tree and waited for Gavin to join her.
“Thanks for getting lunch.” He sat next to her and she handed him a sandwich.
“Are you antsy yet?” Dixie opened a bag of chips.
“Antsy about what?”
“Returning to rodeo.”
Gavin considered Dixie’s question, then answered honestly. “I haven’t given rodeo much thought the past few days.” He’d been so involved in whipping the property into shape that he hadn’t had time to miss busting broncs. W
as it possible that the incessant urgency he felt to push himself to the limits dissipated when he focused on making Dixie happy? Rodeo had been the vehicle of choice to feed his addiction to danger after he’d left the army. The fact that lately he hadn’t felt the need to take risks gave Gavin pause.
He reflected on the previous night when he and Dixie had worked side by side in the shop. The mellow sounds of country music had played on the radio while Dixie painted a stencil on the wall and Gavin tiled the bathroom floor. There’d been no need for conversation—both of them comfortable with the silence. Gavin had never felt more at peace with himself than when he was with Dixie. Since the rodeo in Bullhead City the intensity of his nightmares had tapered off. There was no doubt in his mind that Dixie was good for his soul.
“You must be tired after having to sleep on the blow-up mattress.”
Dixie had loaned him the mattress so he could stay at the shop and work late into the night, then wake at the crack of dawn and begin all over again. “You won’t hear any complaints from me. It beats sleeping on the hard ground.”
There were times in Afghanistan when he and his men had been forced to sleep in their bedrolls on the rocky soil. Dixie had offered to give up her bedroom at the farm but Gavin insisted she needed a good night’s rest more than he did. To tell the truth he thought she was pushing herself too hard.
“Maybe you should head home after lunch and take a nap.”
“I can’t afford to rest. I need to make more soap.”
“You have to think about the baby, Dixie.”
She stiffened and for the life of Gavin he couldn’t figure out why she bristled each time he mentioned the baby. Wasn’t a father supposed to show interest in his child?
Although she didn’t look pregnant, the more time he spent with Dixie the more real the baby became. Last night Gavin had lain in the dark and envisioned buying a home in Yuma. Dixie and the baby would head to the gift shop each morning and Gavin would drive to a civilian job. At the end of the day their little family would eat a cozy meal followed by a long walk through the neighborhood—Gavin pushing the stroller.
The midnight musing should have caused a panic attack because settling down threatened his plan to stay on the move and keep one step ahead of the memories of Nate’s death.
