Some men weren’t meant to be married.
He was one of them.
“MOMMY, YOU DIDN’T KISS me good-night last night,” Toby protested from the door, rubbing sleep from one eye.
B.J. smiled at her little boy, in his pajamas, still young enough to enjoy a cuddle from his mommy. Her heart swelled with love as she opened her arms to him. When he raced across the kitchen, she lifted him up and pressed her lips to his cheek.
“Oh, yes, I did. But you were sound asleep.” And she’d been glad. After that kiss she’d shared with Jake the night before on the dance floor, she hadn’t wanted to face either Toby or Mildred.
“Where’s Aunt Mildred?”
B.J. took a deep breath. It was unusual for her aunt not to be in the kitchen first thing in the morning. Was she angry about last night? “I’m not sure.”
Toby didn’t show much concern for Mildred’s absence. His mind still seemed to be occupied with the previous night. “How did I get in my bed last night? I went to sleep on Mr. Jake’s couch.”
According to Toby, everything on the Randall ranch belonged to Mr. Jake. B.J. had tried to explain that all four brothers shared the ranch, but Toby knew who was boss.
“Mr. Jake carried you to your bed.”
“He did?” Toby asked with awe in his voice. “Just like he was my daddy?”
“No!” B.J. answered sharply, and then regretted her response. Hugging her little boy to her, she kissed him again and said, “Like a friend, Toby. Mr. Jake is a friend.”
“I guess he is,” a familiar voice said.
B.J. whirled around to find Mildred standing where Toby had been when he first claimed her attention. Thankfully Mildred had a smile on her face.
“I was afraid you were angry with me.”
“I should be,” Mildred said, but she was still smiling.
Pudgy little hands covered each of B.J.’s cheeks as Toby turned her face to him. “Why would Aunt Mildred be mad at you, Mommy? Did you do something bad?”
B.J. laughed, relief filling her. “Nope.” She kissed his nose and then set him down. “But if I don’t turn the bacon, I’ll burn it, and you wouldn’t like that.”
Mildred joined her, apologizing for oversleeping, and together they finished breakfast and sent Toby off to get dressed.
Mildred said nothing about the previous evening, and B.J. hesitated to ask. She’d interfered enough in her aunt’s life.
But the look on Mildred’s face told of her happiness. B.J. hoped that meant Mildred and Red had worked out their differences. Before she worked up her nerve to ask, Toby burst back into the kitchen in jeans and shirt, his sneaker laces flopping.
“Whoa, young man, you’re going to trip if you don’t tie your shoes,” she warned, and knelt down to provide some motherly assistance.
“Have you told Toby yet?” Mildred suddenly asked.
“Told me what?” Toby asked.
“I thought your mommy might have told you that you’re going to have a grandpa.” Mildred’s cheeks were bright red, but a big smile was on her lips.
“A grandpa?” Toby asked, his eyes round with surprise.
“Would you like that?”
“I guess so,” There was doubt in his voice. “How would I get a grandpa?”
“Well, I’m not really your grandma, but that’s how I think of myself. So when I marry Red, I guess he’ll be your grandpa.”
Toby’s eyes got even bigger. “You’re gonna marry Mr. Red?”
Mildred nodded and let her gaze meet B.J.’s for the first time since she’d announced her intentions.
Still seeing the hesitation in Mildred’s eyes, B.J. gave her her biggest smile. “I’m so happy for you, Mildred.”
“You’re sure we can work things out?”
“Of course we can.”
“If you marry Mr. Red, Mr. Jake will be part of our family, too, won’t he, Mommy? Will he be my brother?”
B.J. leaned over to smooth Toby’s dark hair from his face. “No, sweetie, Mr. Jake won’t be your brother.”
“But we have the same birthday, and he’s my bestest friend. Mr. Jake said he’s going to teach me to be a cowboy. The other day he showed me how to rope,” Toby said, his face beaming, “’cept I didn’t learn too good. But Mr. Jake said—”
“I think maybe we’ve heard too much about what Mr. Jake said,” B.J. said. “But I didn’t know your birthdays were the same. Are you sure?”
Toby nodded vigorously.
“Well…that doesn’t mean anything. Mr. Jake isn’t kin to Red,” B.J. hastily explained.
“Don’t worry, child,” Mildred said, still smiling. “Mr. Jake may be part of your family before you know it.”
“Yippee!” Toby shouted.
“Mildred!” B.J. protested.
“Now don’t go all coy on me, young lady. I wouldn’t have accepted Red’s proposal if I hadn’t seen the way the winds were blowing last night.”
Chapter Five
Last night all Jake’s problems had seemed solved. But this morning he wasn’t so sure.
B.J. had cooperated, but she’d also indicated her cooperation was a one-shot deal. Jake had thought last night that he could go along with her decision. After all, he wasn’t looking for anything permanent.
Now he realized he was going to look like an idiot.
Ever since sunup, his men had been teasing him about B.J. He’d tried to make light of his behavior last night, telling them he still intended to play the field.
They’d laughed at him.
He’d told them he’d never marry.
They’d agreed, then winked at each other.
He had in mind to tell them that B.J. was nothing special.
They wouldn’t have believed him. And he didn’t blame them. That’s why he couldn’t say those words. Because he knew B.J. was special. She was a beauty. She was intelligent. She was a great mom.
And the best kisser he’d ever run across.
“Still daydreaming about B.J., boss?” one cowboy called out, and then maneuvered his horse to the other side of the herd they were moving, to make sure he kept some distance between himself and Jake.
“Get to work, you mangy cuss,” Jake called back, but he couldn’t be angry with the man. He’d brought the teasing on himself by the show he’d put on last night.
Pete pulled up beside him. “The boys are having a lot of fun at your expense, brother. You okay with that?”
“I’ve teased a few of them in my time. Turnabout is fair play.”
“You’re better at this game than I am. I guess I was pretty hard to live with before Janie married me.”
Jake chuckled. “I believe you could call that an understatement, Pete. You were meaner than a mama bear protecting her cub.”
“Aw, I wasn’t that bad.”
Before Jake could assure his brother that he had been impossible to live with, they were distracted by a shout from one of the cowboys, pointing into the distance.
What had drawn his attention was a truck crossing the pasture, heading in their direction.
“Something wrong at the ranch?” Pete wondered aloud, watching the truck.
Jake frowned as he stared at the approaching vehicle. He was pretty sure he’d identified the driver. He couldn’t figure why B.J. felt they should settle their differences in front of his entire staff, but he was afraid that was what she had in mind.
He cleared his throat. “That’s B.J. She probably needs to talk to me. You wait here with the boys.”
“But it might be something about my herd for the rodeo,” Pete said.
“Then I’ll call you. Wait here,” Jake barked. If he didn’t start toward B.J. now, she’d have her truck right next to the herd before she stopped, and they’d have an audience interested in whatever she had to say.
He eased his horse into a lope toward the approaching truck, but he could still hear Pete as he hollered, “I guess you’re not as calm as I thought.”
He was calm, he ass
ured himself. He just didn’t want B.J. telling everyone he’d drafted her into playing a role last night. That was all.
She pulled the truck to a stop and waited for him to reach her. She must not be any more interested in an audience than he was. He swung from the saddle and strode the couple of feet to the door of her truck as she opened it.
“Good mornin’, B.J.,” he drawled, but his heart sped up as she looked at him, her hazel eyes wide, an anxious look in them. “Everything okay?”
One thing he’d always given B.J. credit for: she was a straight shooter whether you liked it or not. Now his heart double-clutched when she looked away from him.
“Um, not exactly.”
“What do you mean? Do they need us at the house?”
“No! Everything’s fine.” She flashed him a quick look and then stared at the cattle behind him.
“Something wrong with the herd?”
“No.”
“Then what in blazes are you doing here, woman?” he asked in exasperation. She was driving him crazy with her evasions…and her soft lips. The urge to kiss her, in broad daylight, startled him.
“I need to talk to you.”
“You don’t seem to be doing much of that.”
Finally she turned to look at him, but anger drove her if her expression was anything to go by. “Give me a break. This is awkward.”
“Couldn’t it wait until this evening?” he asked testily, figuring he knew what was coming. But he darn sure couldn’t see any urgency.
“No! Tonight might be too late.”
He cocked one eyebrow at her and took a step closer, moving almost inside the door where she was standing. Just close enough to catch her scent.
“Too late for what?”
“Jake, I have to ask a favor,” she said, her voice low, that throaty purr that drove him crazy. She reached out and caught the front of his jacket.
His hand closed over hers, feeling the soft warmth of her skin, wishing she’d slide her hand inside his shirt. Clearing his suddenly hoarse throat, he muttered, “Yeah?”
She drew a deep breath, and he watched the rise and fall of her bosom, feeling like a seventeen-yearold boy, afraid to breathe in case he completely lost control.
“Could we—could we pretend a little longer?”
His mind was so clogged with sensations it took him a minute or two to understand what she’d said. “You want to continue pretending to date?” He shot a quick look over his shoulder to make sure no one could overhear their conversation.
Every man in the saddle was staring at them.
He turned back to B.J., realizing she hadn’t answered his question. “Well?”
“Not…exactly.”
He released her hand to capture her shoulders. “What are you asking?”
“I need us to pretend to—to be an item.”
“An item?” He wanted to be sure he understood what she was asking.
“Stop being obtuse, Jake!” she shouted, and struck his chest.
“Whoa! For someone asking a favor, you’re being a little aggressive, aren’t you, sweetheart?” He was beginning to enjoy their conversation. He had a feeling he was about to get the upper hand.
“The favor isn’t for me, you jerk. It’s for Red and Mildred.”
Her lips were pressed together, flattening out their fullness, but he still wanted to feel them beneath his, to taste her sweetness. He was filled with a hunger that had nothing to do with food.
“Well ? Will you agree?” she prodded.
“Why do Red and Mildred care if we…date?”
“Because Mildred won’t agree to marry Red unless she thinks—” B.J. broke off and sighed. “I feel utterly outdated by saying this, but Mildred wants to be sure I have a man to take care of me before she’ll marry Red.”
Mentioning marriage in the same sentence with him made Jake nervous. He stepped back. “What do you mean, sure? Are you asking me to marry you?”
He hadn’t meant to sound as if that prospect ranked lower than being bucked off a bronco onto sharp rocks. But he must’ve. Her cheeks whitened, and she abruptly slid back into the truck. He grabbed the door before she could slam it shut.
“Wait! I’m sorry, B.J. I didn’t mean to—”
“Turn loose!” She tugged on the door, and he instantly remembered how hard she had hit him last night.
He managed to slip his body between her and the door. “No fair running off without finishing our discussion.”
When she realized she couldn’t budge him, she stared straight ahead, her hands gripping the steering wheel.
“I just wanted to be clear on what you were asking,” he said, watching her closely.
With her jaw unclenched just enough to form words, she muttered, “I wanted you to pretend we were serious about—about each other until Red and Mildred get married. Once they’re legally tied, we can have a fight—which shouldn’t be difficult to arrange—and break it off.”
He should have felt relief. He did, he assured himself. She wasn’t setting a trap for him. She didn’t want marriage any more than he did. It was all pretense.
“Okay.”
His brief answer didn’t seem to have an effect on her. She continued to stare straight ahead over the steering wheel.
“Well?” he said, hoping for some reaction. “Is that all you wanted?”
“Yes, that’s all I wanted. Thank you.”
She didn’t sound grateful. In fact, she sounded as though she’d prefer to rub his face in the mud of a pigpen. Hell, he was taking a risk just for her. She ought to at least appreciate it!
He remembered that he’d asked her to take the same risk last night without giving her much of an option. But that wasn’t the point.
“So you can move now,” she ordered, anger still lacing her words.
“Not quite yet” He might as well get some pleasure out of their agreement, especially since he wasn’t getting any appreciation. Without any warning, he reached inside the truck, grabbed her by her jacket collar and pulled her from the truck into his arms.
Then his lips did what they’d been wanting to do ever since she arrived. They covered hers, molding her flesh to his, tasting her sweetness. In spite of her anger, her mouth opened to his, welcomed his tongue as he entered, joined in their mating. Her arms encircled his head, her fingers weaving through his hair, knocking his cowboy hat to the ground.
She was wearing those sexy jeans again, and his hands cupped her bottom, pulling her tightly to him, feeling her breasts against his chest. He wanted her naked, wanted to forget everything but her.
But the cheering in the distance brought both of them back to reality. They broke apart simultaneously. Her face was red, and she hid it on his chest.
“I forgot about our audience,” he muttered.
“We—we don’t need to get so realistic in our pretense in the future,” she returned, raising her gaze to his. “Kissing isn’t a good idea.”
“You weren’t objecting a minute ago.”
“Well, I’m objecting now.” This time when she got into the cab of the truck, he stepped back and she slammed the door.
Then she rolled down the window. “Promise you won’t tell anyone what we’re doing. Please.”
“No one?”
“No one.”
He shrugged his shoulders. “Okay, I promise.”
She stared at him intently, and his shoulders stiffened. Was she questioning his word? But all she did was nod and throw the truck into reverse.
He watched her drive away, reliving the kiss as he did so. The cool October wind interrupted his pleasure and reminded him that his hat was missing. When he found it on the ground, it had been pancaked by B.J.’s tire.
Shaping it as best he could, he jammed it on his head and turned around to face an appreciative audience.
Somehow he didn’t think he and B.J. were going to have to work very hard to spread the word about their…agreement.
B.J. DROVE RAPIDLY across the pas
ture, bouncing on the seat, too disturbed to slow down. She’d known the conversation would be difficult. Damn that sexy man’s hide.
She should be used to the Randalls’ handsomeness. Those lean cowboy hips, broad shoulders, all that muscle, topped by warm brown eyes, a lazy grin. One man fitting that description would be spectacular. Four men, each with a big heart and a bright mind, were almost more than a woman could comprehend.
And why one of those men, only one, should have the effect on her that Jake had was inexplicable. She’d known right away that her nervous system went on overload whenever she was around him. Fortunately he’d avoided her.
Until last night.
And look what she’d gotten herself into now. More time spent with Jake. But it was for Mildred’s happiness. Once she married Red, then B.J. and Jake would return to their distant relationship. Which would be much easier on her nerves.
THE THREE RANDALL LADIES gathered in the living room, seated close together so as not to be overheard.
“What do you think?” Janie asked, watching her cohorts.
“He certainly took the bait,” Megan said, “but will it last?”
“Maybe…if we keep the pressure on. Do we know any more disasters?” Anna asked.
“Just a few,” Janie assured her as she rolled her eyes. “And they’d all leap at the chance to spend time with Jake.”
“Well, you can’t blame them,” Megan said with a self-satisfied chuckle. “These Randall men are really something.”
“And that’s why we’ve got to marry off Jake. He’s too attractive. We’ll have a constant stream of women in here trying to attract him. Or any other man they can find.”
“You can’t fool us, Janie,” Anna said softly. “You want Jake to be happy as much as the rest of us.”
“Yeah,” Janie agreed with a sigh.
B.J. DROVE HOME, contented. She’d just spent the afternoon at the Winstons’ helping Grey Winston deliver the first foal bred from his prize stallion. The birth had been difficult, but mother and baby were doing well now. Grey had insisted on opening a bottle of champagne to celebrate.
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