Considering what a fine male specimen Toben Boone was, that took a lot of focus.
Toben’s cutoff jeans were uneven, but the length of muscled legs revealed was impressive. He wore a short-sleeved button-down shirt...hanging open to reveal far too much of him. His jeans rested low on his hips. The sharp cut and dip of muscles of his chest and stomach had her dipping beneath the water again.
When she came up, Toben was laughing.
“Did you hear that, Ma?” Rowdy asked.
She shook her head. “What?”
“Otis’s joke,” Rowdy said.
Otis had told a joke? She glanced at her nephew. He was smiling. So was Dot. Were they really having a good time? She grinned. “What joke?”
“What do you call a bear with no teeth?” Otis asked.
Poppy shrugged.
“A gummy bear,” Otis answered.
She laughed.
“Next time the water’s up, we could float down to the first bridge,” Toben said. “Not much current right now, but it sure feels good.”
“Your eye’s all messed up.” Dot pointed out. “Looks like it hurts.”
He nodded. “It doesn’t feel good.”
“What happened?” Otis asked.
Toben glanced at her. “I walked into something.”
Poppy frowned. The thing he’d walked into was sporting an angry bruise on his jaw. Mitchell had left before Rowdy woke up, claiming he had an early flight to Reno. Poppy suspected he’d left before sunup because he didn’t want to upset her son. She knew boys would be boys, but why would Mitchell and Toben exchange blows? What good would that do? Maybe Toben hadn’t changed. The Toben she remembered had either been picking up women or picking fights.
“Next time you should watch where you’re going,” Rowdy said, swimming to the flat rock.
Toben was still looking at her. “There won’t be a next time.”
She hoped that meant he and Mitchell had reached an understanding. If she was going to do this, raise Rowdy together with Toben, no one should be throwing punches.
“I’m jumping,” Rowdy said, leaping off the rock.
The water splashed, eliciting laughter all around.
Poppy smiled, watching them together. For the first time in days, the three kids were getting along.
“How deep does it get?” Otis asked.
“I’ll find out.” Poppy swam out. The water they’d been swimming in wasn’t deep. She could sit and the water reached her chin. But in the middle of the river, she had to stand on tiptoe in places. “Too deep.”
Surprisingly, none of them argued. They took turns jumping off the rock, splashing each other and spinning in the inner tube she’d carried down.
Toben surfaced beside her. “Good to see them smiling. I was beginning to think they didn’t have it in them.”
Poppy nodded, acutely aware of how close he was. “What happened with Mitchell?” she asked.
He swam around her, putting them face-to-face. “Does it matter?”
Her gaze locked with his. “Yes.”
“He the one you’re engaged to?” he asked, his voice wavering slightly.
“No.” She opened her mouth, then closed it. “Does it matter?”
His blue eyes narrowed but he didn’t say anything. Instead he disappeared beneath the water. Seconds later his hand grabbed her ankle and he tugged her under.
Poppy plunged beneath the water, swallowed in sensation. His hands sliding up her bare stomach. His arm sliding around her waist, anchoring her against him. He was warm and strong, his bare chest pressing against hers and lighting a fire inside her. She was going to drown in this—not the water. And then he was tugging her back to the surface.
“He got you, Ma,” Rowdy said, laughing.
She sputtered, her hands gripping Toben’s shoulders until there was air in her lungs. But seeing his chest, the rounded muscles of his shoulders, his thick neck and square jaw... She was gasping for air. Her fingers curled into the wet fabric of his shirt.
Don’t look at him. Don’t do it.
Her eyes met his. And the hunger she saw there, raw and fierce, had her pushing off his chest and under the water. She swam back to the rock, pulling herself out and onto the flat surface. It was hot, so she spread her shirt out and sat, dazed.
“Don’t leave, Ma,” Rowdy called out, splashing her with water.
“I’m not going anywhere,” she answered, waving at him. “Just needed a...drink.” She stretched, tugging her insulated lunchbag to her side and pulling a water bottle out. Her hands shook as she opened the bottle and took a sip.
Toben was tossing the kids into the water, their laughter and pleas for more assuring her that he wasn’t affected. He’d dunked her in river water and she was having a visceral reaction. One that had her throbbing. The look in his eyes... She blew out an unsteady breath. Maybe she was wrong. Maybe she was seeing what she wanted to see.
She wrung the water from her hair, angry. That was not what she wanted to see. She had no interest in reliving her disastrous affair with Toben. Even if she had enjoyed every second of it at the time...
No, certainly not. She had big plans. Her shop, being an involved mom, living a normal life... Toben Boone didn’t fit that mold. If he wanted to be a part of Rowdy’s life, great. But she needed to let him know she wasn’t part of that arrangement. And when she wasn’t a mess, she’d tell him so.
She lay back, letting the hot sun warm her skin until her tension melted away.
“You’ll get burned.” Toben’s voice was low.
She rolled over, refusing to look at him.
“Poppy, I’d like to introduce Rowdy to my family. We try to get together, the whole crew, once a month if we can. I thought I could show him the ranch, let him meet one or two people first? So the family gathering’s not too overwhelming.”
She pressed her eyes shut. Toben’s family. Rowdy’s family. For Poppy, family meant her son. Yes, she had her sister, but Rose had Bob and the kids and little time for anything else. She wouldn’t begrudge her son more people to love him. She sat up, watching the kids still splashing in the river. “Okay.”
Toben sat beside her, stretching his long legs out in front of him and crossing them at the ankles.
She leaned away, resting on one arm. Proximity seemed to have a direct impact on both of them.
“I brought some steaks to grill,” he said. “Picked up some potato salad and a watermelon, too.”
She glanced at him, surprised. He was, without a doubt, the most attractive man she’d ever seen. Every inch of him was rock hard and golden. His shirt was gone, his hair damp and his smile... She swallowed.
“I said I’d cook dinner,” he explained, smiling at her.
She was mesmerized by the drop of water running onto Toben’s well-muscled chest. She shivered, pulling her knees up and wrapping her arms around them. She hugged tight, resting her chin on her knees.
“So, Mitchell?” he asked, his voice gruff.
“Is a good man.” Which was true. “He’s important to Rowdy. And to me.”
“I know.”
His simple answer drew her attention back to him. But when his blue eyes searched hers, she turned back to the kids, who seemed completely oblivious to the charged energy pulsing around them.
“But if he’s enough, why are you looking at me like that?”
“Ma,” Rowdy called out. “Dot doesn’t know how to float.”
Poppy slid off the rock and into the water, eager for any distraction. “I can help with that.”
* * *
“THAT WAS GREAT,” Otis said, clearing his plate. “Thanks for the steak.”
“And the watermelon,” Dot added.
“You’re welcome.” Toben stood to clea
r the table.
“You cooked—I’ll clean,” Poppy said, pushing him back into the chair with a hand on his shoulder.
He wanted to cover her hand with his. He wanted to touch her. He flexed his hand and grabbed his tea, taking a long sip.
“When are we going riding?” Rowdy asked.
“Whenever you want.” Toben was eager to see his boy in the saddle.
“How about tomorrow?”
Poppy stopped scrubbing long enough to say, “It’s Monday, Rowdy, a workday.”
“That mean you’ll be too tired?” Rowdy asked. “Or have plans?”
Toben shook his head. “The only plans I have in the near future are the ones we make together.” He wanted his son to know that he came first. As of now, Rowdy would always come first.
Rowdy’s smile was answer enough.
Poppy’s scrubbing started up again, more vigorous than before.
“How do you feel about coming out to the ranch?” he asked his son.
“Sure,” Rowdy said, yawning.
“Can I call Mom?” Dot asked.
“Of course,” Poppy said, turning off the water.
Dot and Otis hurried down the hallway.
“It’s almost bedtime, though, so don’t—”
But the guest room door closed, so Poppy didn’t bother finishing her sentence.
“Ma.” Rowdy stood, sliding his arm around her waist and pressing his head against her. “You’re never gonna get sick, are you?”
Toben’s heart lodged in his throat. He watched Poppy drop to her knees, hugging Rowdy close. “No, sir. You are stuck with me.”
Rowdy’s arms tightened around her. “Good. I like being stuck with you.”
She laughed, gripping his shoulders. “Glad to hear it. Hit the shower.”
Rowdy nodded, hugged her again and faced him. “I don’t know what to call you.”
Toben glanced at Poppy, taking in her fearful expression. “You can call me Toben.” He cleared his throat, then swallowed. “Or you can call me Dad.”
Rowdy nodded, his expression thoughtful.
“You don’t have to decide right away,” Poppy offered up.
“I’ve got to call him something,” Rowdy argued. “I’ll think on it. Okay?”
“Okay,” Toben agreed.
He wasn’t prepared for Rowdy’s hug. But the boy gave strong, solid ones. Toben was gripped with a love so fierce he held on. His son’s sweet smell, his small hands pressing against Toben’s shoulders... This was his boy. And his boy was giving him this hug.
“’Night,” Rowdy said, shooting him a devastating smile before hurrying from the kitchen. Toben stared after him, grappling with the longing that smile stirred. He didn’t know what this was, how something so simple could impact him so severely, but Rowdy seemed to have turned everything on its ear.
A thump sounded behind him. But when he turned, the kitchen was empty. He pushed through the screen door and onto the porch. Poppy stood, hugging herself, at the far side of the porch—staring into the night sky.
Fireflies blinked, crickets chirped, and the distant snort and stomp of the horses was a familiar soundtrack. He and Tandy had been born in Montana, raised by his mother and aunts, but he’d never truly felt at home until he found his way to Texas. And this place, with his boy, felt the way he’d always imagined a real home would feel.
“He’s falling hard for you.” Poppy’s voice was so soft he moved closer.
“That’s good.” He paused. “Isn’t it?”
She turned to face him, tears shining in her eyes. “I want to believe in you, Toben. For Rowdy’s sake. I want to believe that you’re going to stay—to be a real father.”
“What’s stopping you?” He frowned.
“Are you serious?” she managed, sniffing angrily. “We have a history. I know you—”
“No, you don’t. There’s no history between us. I...I left before that could happen.” He hated the vulnerability in his voice. But, dammit, it hurt. What was lost, what he’d taken from them all.
Her eyes went round. “Toben...this is about him. Every second of every day is about him.” She pointed at the door. “He’s put you on a pedestal his whole life. He—”
“Thank you,” Toben interrupted.
She sputtered to a stop.
“I mean it. You could have trashed me—told him I didn’t want him. But you didn’t. And for that I am truly grateful.” He paused, taking in every detail of her face. Her brown eyes were rimmed with gold. A perfectly round mole graced her upper left cheekbone. The middle of her full lower lip was flat—and tempting. So damn tempting. “You’ve done a good job.”
“He’s a good boy,” she murmured, eyeing him warily.
He held his hands up. “I’m complimenting you. No strings.”
Her eyes narrowed, darting to his mouth. “None?” The word was unsteady.
He felt a rush of desire, so hot and fast he gripped the porch railing. “What do you want me to say, Poppy?”
She shook her head, stepping back. “That you’re here for Rowdy.”
He stepped closer. “Nothing else?”
“No. Nothing else,” she whispered, her brow furrowing. “Rowdy’s all that matters. I don’t have room for anything else.”
“Not even Mitchell?” He couldn’t keep the bite out of his voice.
She shook her head. “What do you have against him?”
Toben gripped the railing, fighting all the pent-up emotion that had been boiling inside him since Poppy told him the truth. He cleared his throat, swallowed...cleared his throat again. But he couldn’t stop the words from spilling out. “He took my place. He had the time I should have had. He’s had my son, my family, you... I should be the one taking care of Rowdy, defending your honor, making our son laugh and watching him grow.” He swallowed, his temper warring with the bone-deep grief he felt. “And you let him.” He sucked in a deep breath, the air stinging his empty lungs. “You let him.” He stared at her, knowing there was nothing she could do or say to make this better—but hoping.
Her breathing accelerated, her eyes shadowed in the porch light, but she didn’t say a thing. She looked angry...and sad. “It wasn’t my first choice, him standing in. But...he was there when no one else was.” Her voice shook. “No one.”
What could he say to that? Poppy had always been so damn...independent. Thinking of her alone, needing someone, was hard to imagine. “I didn’t know.”
She nodded slowly. “Neither did I.”
“That’s supposed to make this okay?”
“No. Nothing can make this okay. Nothing can change what happened. I lived it. Alone.” She stared at the door, her voice dropping. “I woke up and you were gone. I’d expected that. But then Rowdy came along and I...I...” She shook her head. “Every day I woke up, looked at my boy and knew you’d chosen not to be a part of his life.”
Her words sliced through him, razor-sharp and enraging. “I. Didn’t. Know,” he ground out.
“You said that. But I tried to reach you. I left messages with everyone that answered your phone.” She smiled, a hard, bitter smile. “And I wrote letters, sent some pictures.” She shook her head. “When I didn’t hear from you, what else was I supposed to think?”
Toben stared out into the night sky, grappling with her words and the overwhelming waves of conflicted emotions crashing into him—again and again. He didn’t remember much about that time. He was too caught up in missing her, too full of pride to hunt her down and too stubborn to let anyone know what he was going through. He’d been a fool. Considering he hadn’t changed much, he was still a fool.
That reality stuck in his throat. He didn’t want to be that man. He wanted to be...better.
He knew, staring at her, his chest heavy and hi
s lungs hungry for air, he’d go back in time if he could. Her words filled him with shame. He didn’t want to feel sorry for her. He didn’t want to look at her and need to hold her close. He didn’t want to wonder what would have happened if she’d woken up with him at her side—if he hadn’t left her in that bed alone.
“It’s late.” She ran her hands down her thighs, anxious.
He didn’t move, didn’t know where to go from here. “I’ll come get you all around six tomorrow?” He wanted Rowdy to see Boone Ranch and meet some of his family. He didn’t want to rush things, he and Rowdy were just getting started. They had time now.
Poppy shook her head, crossing the porch. “Rowdy will be ready. No point in the rest of us going. See you then.” She didn’t look back as she pulled the front door closed behind her.
He stood on the porch, staring at her door, wishing things weren’t so damn difficult. He crossed the yard, catching sight of the wood he’d brought to repair her stalls. “No point in leaving,” he murmured as he climbed into the truck and headed to Poppy’s barn.
Chapter Seven
Poppy held the tie of her rope, shaking all the kinks out of the large loop. She glanced at the kids, all watching her from the porch, and eyed her target. The barrel sat in the middle of the yard, offering her no resistance and no challenge. But if she was going to teach them how to throw a lariat with any confidence, they needed to start small.
Her right hand fed the rope up, coiling it into her left hand until the length was neatly wound and ready for use. She fed a little length into her loop and swung the circle, quick right-to-left spins, before aiming. The rope flew and settled around the barrel with ease.
Three voices cheered from the porch, making her smile and bow. “Who wants to try it?”
The three of them looked at one another.
“Nope,” Dot said, stepping back.
“I’ll try,” Otis said, hesitating before walking to her side.
He was quick, picking up the basics and figuring out how to get the best precision with his hold.
“Looks like you’ve got a little rodeo in you.” She patted Otis’s shoulder when he lassoed the barrel for the third time in a row.
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