Winter's Proposal

by Sherryl Woods

  “Go,” Eli repeated, shooing her toward the door and taking the choice out of her hands. “I might not feel so generous again anytime soon.”

  “Don’t doubt that,” Mabel retorted sourly.

  Mabel got her coat and left, reluctance written all over her narrow, tight-lipped face. Cody inched a little closer to the soda fountain, as if an invisible barrier had been removed from his path.

  “Melissa,” Eli called. “I’ll be in the storeroom, checking this morning’s delivery. Call me if you need me.”

  “Traitor,” Melissa mumbled under her breath.

  Cody had moved close enough by now to overhear. “Nice talk,” he commented. “He’s just doing you a favor.”

  “Me?” She stared at him incredulously. “Oh, no. You probably paid him to get rid of Mabel and to disappear himself. I noticed the other night that you’d inherited Harlan’s knack for manipulation.”

  Cody clearly wasn’t crazy about the comparison, but he let the charge roll off his back. “I’m not desperate enough to be paying anyone to give me time alone with you,” Cody said, his grin widening. “I’m still relying on my charm.”

  “Take it somewhere else,” she muttered.

  “Tsk-tsk, Me...liss...a,” he drawled, tipping his hat back on his head as he settled on a stool at the counter. “What does it take to get a little service around here?”

  “More charm than you’ve got,” she retorted. “Or cold, hard cash.”

  He plucked a twenty out of his wallet and set it on the counter. Then he winked. It appeared he was giving her a choice about which currency she wanted to accept. Melissa would have gladly taken the wink, if it meant she could shove that bill straight down his throat.

  Since she couldn’t, she snatched the twenty, tucked it into her pocket and withdrew her order pad and pen. “What’ll it be?” she inquired in the same impersonal tone she used with other impossible customers.

  Cody propped his elbows on the counter and leaned forward. “A kiss for starters.”

  “You wish.” Her knees trembled despite the defiant retort. Why was it that temptation always entered a room right at Cody’s side? Shouldn’t she have been totally immune by now? Lord knows, she’d been lecturing herself on getting over him from the day he’d left town. Some of that advice should have taken by now. Apparently, though, it hadn’t.

  “Then I’ll have a hamburger, fries and a shake,” he said.

  The mundane order was a disappointment. Melissa cursed her wayward hormones as she slapped the burger on the grill and lowered the fries into the hot grease. She sloshed milk into a metal container and out of habit added two scoops of chocolate ice cream, even though Cody hadn’t specified the kind he wanted. Half of the mixture splashed out when she jammed the container into place on the automatic shaker.

  “Nervous?” Cody inquired.

  He spoke in a smug, lazy drawl that sent heat scampering down her spine. She scowled at him. “What on earth do I have to be nervous about? You’re the one who doesn’t belong here. You’re the one making a pest of himself.”

  Sparks flared in his dark eyes. “Want me to ask Eli how he feels about you making a paying customer feel unwelcome?”

  He didn’t have to. She already knew that Eli would have heart failure if he heard her trying to run Cody off with her rudeness. He’d already taken Cody’s side once today by slinking off to hide out in the storeroom to give them time alone. She’d never before noticed that Eli held Cody in particularly high esteem. His behavior must be part of some instinctive male support system that kicked in whenever one of them sensed that a woman might be getting the upper hand.

  She turned her back on Cody, finished fixing his food, then set it down on the counter with a jarring thud.

  He grinned at her. “Service with a smile,” he commented. “I love it. You earn a lot of tips this way?”

  Melissa closed her eyes and prayed for patience. When she opened them again, Cody hadn’t vanished as she’d hoped. “Why are you in here?” she inquired testily. “Shouldn’t you be out roping cattle or something?”

  “We have plans to make, remember?”

  “I told you just to tell me when you wanted to see Sharon Lynn. I’ll make the arrangements so you can pick her up at my parents’ anytime.”

  “Not those plans,” he said complacently, picking a pickle off of his hamburger and tsk-tsking her, apparently for not remembering that he hated pickles.

  “Sorry,” she said without much sincerity. She should have dumped in the whole damned jar. “You could have eaten at Rosa’s.”

  “I prefer the spice here,” he retorted. “Now let’s get back to those plans. I was thinking that a week from Saturday would be good.”

  Melissa was surprised he wanted to wait that long before seeing his daughter again. Maybe his fascination was already waning. At this rate he’d be moving back to Wyoming in a month. Surely she could wait him out that long. She’d probably be a tangled heap of frustrated hormones, but presumably her sanity would still be intact.

  “Sure, if that’s what you want,” she said more agreeably now that she knew he was likely to be out of her hair in no time. “I’m off on Saturday, so you can pick Sharon Lynn up at my place.”

  “Not just Sharon Lynn,” he corrected. “Can’t have a wedding without the bride.”

  Melissa dropped the glass she’d been rinsing out. It shattered at her feet. Eli poked his head out of the storeroom, saw the glass and shook his head.

  “I hope to hell you two settle this quick,” the pharmacist said. “It’s costing me a fortune in broken glasses.”

  “Don’t worry, Eli,” Cody consoled him. “I’ll settle up with you.” He fixed his unrelenting gaze on Melissa and added, “I always accept my responsibilities.”

  “Oh, stuff a rag in it,” Melissa retorted, stripping off her apron and opening the cash register to shove in the twenty she’d pocketed. “Eli, I’m leaving. Mr. Adams has already paid his check. Keep the change.”

  She made it as far as the sidewalk, still shrugging into her coat, when Cody caught up with her. If her refusal to kowtow to his wishes for a second time had ruffled his feathers, he wasn’t letting it show. He fell into step beside her, his expression perfectly innocent.

  “Going to pick up the baby?”

  Actually Melissa had no idea where she was going. She’d been so anxious to get away from Cody that she’d walked out of the drugstore without the kind of plan she should have had. It was an unfortunate sign of weakness, one she couldn’t allow him to detect.

  “No, actually, I have things to do.”

  “Like what? I’ll help.”

  “No, thanks. I can handle it.”

  “Come on, Me...liss...a,” he coaxed, planting himself on the sidewalk in front of her, legs spread. He rocked back on the heels of his cowboy boots and peered at her from beneath the brim of his hat. It was a look that invited a woman to swoon. She ought to know. She’d done it often enough, flat-out making a fool of herself over him.

  “Would spending a little time with me be so awful?” he inquired.

  Awful? That wasn’t the word she would have chosen. Dangerous, maybe. Stupid. Risky. There was a whole string of applicable words and none of them had anything to do with awful.

  “I’d rather not,” she said politely.

  “Bet I can change your mind,” he countered, grinning at her.

  She scowled at him as he advanced on her step by step. “Don’t try.”

  He shook his head. “I don’t know. The temptation is pretty great. Your mouth is all pouty. Very kissable,” he assessed, his gaze hot on her. He took yet another step closer, crowding her. “Your cheeks are pink. Just about the color of rose petals and twice as soft. It’s all hard to resist.”

  As he spoke, her lips burned as if he’d kissed them. Her cheeks flamed, turning to what she w
as sure must be a deeper shade. Damn, it didn’t seem to matter if he actually touched her or not. Her body reacted predictably just to the provocative suggestion.

  “Go away,” she ordered in a voice that was entirely too breathless.

  His expression solemn, he shook his head. “I can’t do that, Me...liss...a.”

  She sighed. “Why not?” she demanded far too plaintively.

  He circled one arm around her waist and dragged her against him. She could feel the hard heat of his arousal.

  “You know the answer to that,” he whispered, his lips scant millimeters from hers. His breath fanned across her cheek.

  “Cody.” His name came out as a broken sigh, a protest that not even someone far less relentless than Cody would have heeded.

  “It’s okay,” he consoled her. “Everything is going to turn out just fine.”

  He slanted his mouth over hers then, setting off fireworks in January. Why, why, why? her brain demanded. Why was her body so darned traitorous? Maybe it was like the tides. Maybe the way she responded to Cody was as immutable as the sun setting in the west.

  She resisted the explanation. It meant she had no will at all to fight it. She put her hands on his chest and shoved with all her might. She might as well have been trying to topple a centuries’ old oak. Cody didn’t budge. He didn’t stop that tender assault on her mouth.

  For what seemed an eternity he coaxed and plundered, teased and tasted until she was shivering with urgent and almost-forgotten need. When she was weak with a desire she definitely didn’t want to feel, Cody finally released her. She very nearly melted at his feet. In fact, she might have if he hadn’t kept his hands resting possessively on her hips. Even through her coat, her skin burned at his touch.

  “So, what are we going to do with the rest of the afternoon?” he inquired. The gleam in his eyes suggested he had an idea of his own. His lips quirked up in the beginnings of a smile.

  “Not what you’re thinking,” she said curtly.

  His grin spread. “Don’t be so certain of that, sweet pea. It sounds an awful lot like a challenge and you know I never could resist a dare.”

  Desperate for space, she backed away from him. “Give it a rest,” she said crankily.

  He reached out and rubbed his thumb across her lower lip. The sensation sent fire dancing through her.

  “I’m just getting started, darlin’,” he murmured, his gaze locked with hers.

  Melissa held back a sigh of resignation. “You’re not going home, are you?”

  “When I can be with you? No way.”

  “Come on, then.”

  His expression immediately brightened. Once more he fell dutifully into step beside her. “Where are we going?”

  “To buy groceries,” she said, plucking a boring chore out of thin air. “And after that, we’re ironing.” She slanted a look at him to judge his reaction. He didn’t bat an eye.

  “Sounds downright fascinating,” he declared. He captured her gaze, then added slowly, “I’ve always been particularly fond of starch.”

  She ignored the provocative tone. “Oh, really?” she said skeptically.

  “Yes, indeed,” he swore. “In my shirts and in my women. And you, sweet pea, are full of it.”

  Melissa had a feeling it would take her weeks to puzzle out whether he meant that as a compliment. For the first time, though, she had this funny little feeling she was going to have the time of her life figuring it out.

  8

  Somewhere in the middle of the grocery store, Melissa lost track of Cody. She was aware of the precise instant when she no longer felt the heat of his stare or the sizzling tension of his nearness. She almost sagged with relief, even as she fought off a vague stirring of disappointment. Clearly his attention span was no better now than it had ever been.

  Worse, he was getting to her. Despite her best intentions, she was responding to his teasing, to the allure of his body. She could not let that happen. Steering totally clear of him, however, seemed to be the only way she was likely to be able to avoid succumbing to that seductive appeal. Now seemed like a good time to make a break for it.

  All she had to do was get through the checkout line and race home before he caught up with her. She could barricade the door. Or maybe just hide out in a bedroom until he was convinced she wasn’t home.

  She tossed a six-pack of soft drinks she didn’t need into the cart, just in case Cody wasn’t as far away as she hoped. She had to leave the store with more than a quart of milk or he’d know that this trip had been nothing more than a ploy to avoid being alone with him.

  She had rounded the last aisle and was heading for the cashier when she spotted him. He was positioned in front of the baby food, studying labels with the intensity of a scientist in his lab. Apparently, though, he wasn’t so absorbed that her presence escaped his notice.

  “Which of these does Sharon Lynn like?” he asked, holding up competing brands of strained peas.

  “Neither one.”

  His brow knit worriedly. “Doesn’t she have to eat vegetables?”

  “Yes, but she’s past the baby food. She has her first baby teeth. She can chew soft food.” She regarded him oddly. “Do you really care about this?”

  “Yes,” he said succinctly, and replaced the peas. “Fill me in on everything.”

  Melissa shrugged. “Okay. She can eat the junior brands. Like these,” she said, plucking a couple of jars off the shelf. “There are some foods that don’t have to be specially prepared. She can eat the regular stuff. Peas, for example.”

  To her surprise, he seemed to be taking in every word as if she were delivering a fascinating treatise on something far more significant than baby food. In the past he’d reserved that kind of attention for very little besides ranching.

  “What are her favorite foods?” he asked, studying the larger jars intently.

  “Ice cream and French fries.”

  Cody stared at her. “That’s her diet?”

  “No,” she said patiently. “Those are her favorites.” She gestured to the junior baby food. “This is what she gets most of the time. When I have time, I even blend some myself from fresh fruits and vegetables. She’s particularly fond of squishing bananas.”

  Cody eyed the jars of carrots and meats and fruits, seemed to struggle with his conscience, and then turned his back on them. “Let’s go.”

  “Where?”

  “To the ice cream section,” he said as grimly as if he were going into battle and the enemy had pulled a last-minute tactical switch. “I’m not bringing home jars of that disgusting-looking liver or those limp little bits of carrot if she’d rather have ice cream.”

  “Cody, I do feed her. You don’t need to stock my refrigerator, especially not with ice cream.”

  He stopped in his tracks and turned to face her. “Don’t you see, this isn’t about you. It’s about me and my daughter. You’ve had her to yourself for thirteen months. Now I want a chance to be important in her life.”

  “By stuffing her with chocolate-fudge ice cream?”

  Instead of taking her well-intended point, he seized on the tiny sliver of information she’d imparted about their daughter. “Is that her favorite? I’ll buy a gallon of it.”

  He sounded relieved to know that he wouldn’t have to resort to another round of guesswork and label-reading. In fact, he was loping off to the frozen food section before Melissa could gather her thoughts sufficiently to argue with him.

  Okay, she told herself, it was only a gallon of ice cream. So what? It wasn’t as if he could buy their daughter’s affection or ruin her health with one extravagant gesture of chocolate fudge.

  She had a feeling, though, that this was only the beginning. Cody was not a man to do anything by half measures. His retreat to Wyoming, abandoning not only her but his beloved home and family, was a perfect exampl
e of that. He could have straightened everything out between them with a few questions or even by hurling accusations and listening to explanations. Instead he had leapt to a conclusion and reacted by impetuously fleeing to another state.

  He was doing much the same thing now that he had discovered he had a daughter. He wanted to be in her life—completely—right this instant. He wanted to marry Melissa...right this minute. The concepts of moderation or patience had obviously escaped him.

  She sighed as he appropriated the shopping cart. The two half gallons of chocolate-fudge ice cream had turned into four. And she didn’t like the gleam in his eyes one bit as he turned the cart on two wheels and headed straight for the shelves of diapers.

  She’d been right. He was going to take over and she had a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach that there would be very little she could do about it.

  * * *

  Cody realized he had almost lost it there for a minute at the supermarket. He’d wanted to sweep entire shelves of baby food into the shopping cart.

  As it was, in addition to the ice cream, they had left the store with five, giant economy-size packages of disposable diapers, a new toy duck for Sharon Lynn’s bath, five storybooks he could read to her at bedtime and an astonishing selection of her favorite juices. Melissa had just rolled her eyes at the startled checkout clerk.

  “New father?” the girl had guessed.

  “New enough,” Melissa had replied.

  Let them make fun, Cody thought. He didn’t care. This was the first step in his campaign to make himself indispensable to Melissa and his daughter.

  “Where to now?” he asked when they’d piled all those diapers and the rest of the shopping bags into the back of his pickup.

  “I’m going home to iron,” Melissa said, sticking to that absurd story she’d told him earlier in a blatant attempt to get rid of him. “Unless, of course, you’d like to do it for me?”