Nearest Thing to Heaven (Maverick Junction)

by Austin, Lynnette

  After Ty and his three boys. After surprise visits from people like Goldie. Mornings with Dottie. Chats with Maggie. They’d all come to mean so much to her. They’d slid into her life so easily. Or had she slid into theirs?

  When she’d agreed to come for Annelise’s wedding, she’d intended a hit-and-run. Fly to Texas, put up with the cows and the lack of shopping and delis for the few days necessary, then turn tail and head back to Chicago.

  How quickly she, big-city-girl Sophie London, had fallen in love with this small Texas town in the middle of nowhere. The thought of leaving, of saying good-bye to it and getting on that plane, made her sad.

  Thank God she hadn’t actually allowed herself to fall in love with the cowboy. That wouldn’t have done at all.

  “Hey, Sophie. Got some mail for you.” Wearing a jacket and long pants today, the mailman came up the walk.

  Laying her drawing pad on the chaise, she hopped up to meet him partway. “Thanks, Dave.”

  “You bet.” He handed her the letter, dropped Dottie’s mail in her box, and took off.

  Sophie stood in the middle of the drive, staring at the letter as if it had grown a head. The return address? Nathan’s.

  She didn’t want to open it. She had to, though, didn’t she? Or did she? She supposed she could dump it unread in Dottie’s trash can.

  Hands shaking, she dropped back onto the chaise and slid a nail under the envelope flap. The rumble of a truck engine had her pausing. When Ty’s pickup pulled into the drive, her heart kicked into fifth gear. What was he doing here?

  Rattled, Sophie tucked the half-opened letter under her leg. Nathan could wait. One crisis at a time.

  Funny. As she watched Ty’s tall, lean figure moving toward her, the man didn’t feel like a crisis. More like a gift from the gods. One she’d forfeited Saturday night.

  Even though her decision had been right, she strongly regretted it.

  He smiled at her, a slow, lazy smile that had those dimples peeking out. She all but melted.

  “Hey, Tink. Thought maybe I’d find you out here catching some sun.” He nodded at her pad. “Working?”

  “Off and on.” She smiled back at him, unable to resist. “I find my concentration isn’t what it should be.”

  “Something on your mind?”

  She took a deep breath. “Ty, I’m sorry about the other night. I—” She spread her hands, unsure what she wanted to say.

  Nudging the drawing pad aside, he sat on the edge of her chair, his warmth seeping through her jeans where their hips touched. She scooted over a little to give him room. His black Stetson shaded his eyes, and she wished he’d take it off. Were they stormy gray today or warm and inviting?

  “I moved too fast the other night, Sophie. My fault.” He thumbed back his hat and met her eyes.

  His were smiling today. Friendly.

  Hot, though. Still hot.

  And precisely why she’d behaved as she had Saturday night. Rational thought fled when she got within ten feet of him.

  “No, Ty, you didn’t. I wanted you to kiss me. I wanted more. Much, much more.” As she watched, those fascinating eyes of his darkened. “And that’s why I ran scared. I was afraid of myself, not you.”

  “A dangerous thing to tell a man, darlin’.”

  A half laugh escaped her. “I suppose so. But it’s the truth.”

  “Have dinner with me and the boys tonight.”

  “What?”

  “Dinner. Nothing more.” He held out a hand to shake on it.

  Grinning, she did just that.

  “Unless,” he added, “you find you can’t do without my body. Then, I’ll be all too happy to oblige.”

  Her mouth dropped open. “Men!”

  “Yeah, I know.” He shrugged. “We’re an egotistical bunch. You’ll set the rules, though, Sophie. I won’t take anything you don’t want to give. You have my word on that.”

  He nodded at the envelope peeking out from beneath her leg. “Letter from home?”

  She made a face. “I guess you could say that.”

  Leaning across her, he read the return address. “Nathan? Isn’t he the guy who’s been stalking you?”

  “I wouldn’t say stalking. That’s overstating my problem with him. He’s a guy who can’t seem to take no for an answer.”

  “Okay,” Ty said slowly, edging slightly away from Sophie. “So, I find myself wondering. Is that how you see me? Coming here today after you told me to get lost?”

  “I never told you to get lost.”

  “Different words maybe, same meaning.”

  “No. You and Nathan are worlds apart. Nathan is…creepy. You’re…tempting.”

  A grin flashed. “Really?”

  She punched his arm. “And so full of yourself.”

  His smile faded. “You need help with him?”

  “No. He’s in Chicago. I, on the other hand, am in Maverick Junction. I’ve been ignoring him. I’m not answering his calls or e-mails. He’ll get the picture.”

  “You’re sure? You’d tell me if you needed help?”

  “Absolutely.”

  He studied her till she felt twitchy.

  “Okay.” He nodded. “Six tonight? I know it’s early, but the boys hit the sack by eight, so I like to feed them by six thirty.”

  “Sounds great. Why don’t you let me bring dessert?”

  Ty’s gaze moved toward Dottie’s kitchen.

  “No,” Sophie said. “I’ll make something myself.”

  “All right. We’ll be looking forward to it. Do you remember the way?”

  “You bet.”

  Sophie lay back on the lounge chair, the drawing pad on her chest, and watched him walk away. Oh, he sure did fill out his jeans, coming and going. With a big sigh, she went back to work. The sun was shining a whole lot brighter than it had ten minutes ago.

  When she shifted, the envelope crackled. She really wanted to throw it away without reading it. Did she dare?

  Probably not.

  Dropping her legs to the side of the chaise, she sat up and took a drink from her water bottle. Only then did she pull out the letter and unfold it.

  I’m still waiting, but my patience is running out.

  Enough. She didn’t need to read more. She crumbled the note and threw it in the trash.

  Nathan Richards was a self-centered, arrogant pain in the butt. Turning on her heel, she went upstairs to shower.

  *

  Juggling her dessert, Sophie closed the car door and stood looking at Ty’s house. So much for her resolution.

  Problem was she liked Ty—a lot. And she could name a thousand reasons why that was a bad thing.

  Lights welcomed her from every room of the house. A pair of tricycles littered the front yard, and she wondered where the third was parked.

  Trouble raced around the corner of the house, and she let out a little squeal. Holding her plate high, she pointed a finger at him. “Stop. Sit.”

  He did.

  When the shock wore off enough she could speak, she said, “Good boy.”

  The front door flew open, and three little bodies crowded into the opening. Trouble sprang up and tore toward them. Laughing, they all leaned down, giggling even harder as the pup gave them all kisses.

  “Daddy’s busy,” Jesse said.

  Jonah nodded. “Yeah, something’s burning in the kitchen.”

  “I see.” She fought to keep a straight face. “Does that happen often?”

  Three heads nodded solemnly.

  “Then Daddy swears,” Josh said.

  “Yeah.” The other two nodded and grinned.

  Sophie listened to the running dialogue, each boy slipping in one sentence after the other without missing a beat. It was like one mind, three bodies.

  “But we can’t tell Grandma,” Jonah said, shaking his head.

  “Uh-uh. ’Cause we promised we wouldn’t.”

  “Yeah. Grandma gives him heck when he does.”

  “Boys,” Ty hollered from
the kitchen. “Close the door. I can feel the draft clear back here.”

  The smoke alarm chose that instant to go off, and the boys covered their ears. Josh’s lower lip trembled.

  “Shit. On second thought, leave the door open, guys. We need to get this cleared out before Sophie comes. And remember, this’ll be our little secret.”

  Jesse opened his mouth, but Sophie shook her head.

  “Shhh, let’s surprise him.” She set the plate on one of the highest bookshelves, sent Trouble a warning look, then scooped up the still-distressed looking Josh.

  She heard the back door open, then a window slid up. A finger over her lips, she tiptoed to the kitchen, the other two forming a giggling line behind her.

  She stopped in the doorway. Ty, looking more handsome than any man had a right to, stood flapping a dish towel toward the open door. A pot sat on the stove, water boiling over. The oven door hung open and tendrils of smoke escaped.

  “So, what’s for dinner?”

  Ty dropped the towel and turned, looking for all the world like a five-year-old caught snooping under the Christmas tree. He looked from her to the boys.

  “Traitors.”

  “What’s that mean, Daddy?” Josh asked as Sophie lowered him to the floor.

  “It means you’re supposed to sound the warning when the enemy shows up.”

  “But Sophie’s not the enemy.” Josh wrapped an arm around her leg.

  “And,” Jonah said, “the alarm was already sounding. It hurt my ears.”

  “Yeah, I guess you’re right.” Ty threw a disgusted look toward the stove, an apologetic one toward Sophie. “Afraid dinner’s going to be a little well-done tonight.”

  “You should have come last night.” Jesse took her hand.

  “Really?”

  Josh nodded. “Grandma made beef stew. It was scumptus.”

  “Uh-uh,” Jesse said. “It was good, wasn’t it, Daddy?”

  “That’s what scrumptious means, Jess.”

  “Oh.”

  “Well, a day late and a dollar short as always.” Sophie tousled Josh’s hair. “That’s okay. We’ll make do.” Turning to Ty, she said, “How can I help?”

  “You could mash the potatoes.”

  As she drained them, he withdrew a pan of meat loaf from the still smoldering oven and studied it unhappily. “Afraid it’s too late to do anything about this, but I think we can eat the middle.”

  He shot Sophie a glance. “Have you had all your shots?”

  “Believe me, after my mom’s cooking, nothing fazes me.”

  “Oh, yeah? She looked like the perfect June Cleaver mom.”

  Ty passed her a bowl for the potatoes; she added a little milk and butter.

  “You couldn’t be more wrong.” She turned on the hand mixer she’d found half-hiding behind a cereal box. “There are times I worry myself, afraid I’m verging on OCD. Back in Chicago? If you walked into my studio, you’d probably die of shock. All my supplies are boxed and ruthlessly labeled, each tidily lined up on a shelf that’s also labeled.”

  His brows creased. “Really?”

  “And it’s all because of my mom.”

  “So she is a June Cleaver clone?”

  “No. She’s definitely not. As a kid, I hated the chaos that reigned in our house. My mom was careless—when it came to housekeeping, meals, laundry, schedules. Never about her family, though.”

  “You love her.”

  “I do. But I swore when I grew up, I wouldn’t live like that. In public, no one would guess. No one ever sees her as less than perfectly pulled together. She wasn’t careless with Dad and me, nor her looks or her clothes. But the master bedroom? Wow. It always looks as if it’s been struck by a cyclone—as does the rest of the place. When she steps out of the house, though…”

  “So you need control and order to make up for that.”

  “I guess I do, yes.”

  “Good luck here at the Rawlins house, then. You’ll likely go crazy with three kids this close to the holidays.”

  “Strangely enough, I don’t think so.” She moved to the fridge and traced the Christmas drawings stuck to the front of it with magnets.

  “Day Care. Miss Marcy is big on arts and crafts,” Ty said.

  “It’s nice.” She fingered the cotton balls that formed Santa’s beard. “I miss that about the holidays. The excitement on the faces of the little ones.”

  “We’ve got plenty of that here.”

  “No tree yet?”

  “We’ll get around to it. Soon.” He sighed. “Never enough hours in the day. Do you want to get glasses out for their milk?” He tipped his head at one of the cabinets. “Maybe dig out some plates?”

  “Sure.” She opened the door and saw plastic glasses, kids’ divided plates. Looking further, she saw no good china. No fancy casserole dishes.

  “You know, I don’t mean to be nosy, and I sure don’t need it, but where is all your good stuff?”

  “Good stuff?” He looked over his shoulder at her.

  “Maggie told me you and Julia had a big wedding. I don’t see anything here that so much as hints at that. Everybody gets fancy stuff for wedding gifts they’ll never use.”

  “I gave it all away. We didn’t have room in our little house for it, so Julia packed it all up. Said she’d wait to put it out in our new house. That didn’t happen, so I had one of the hands run it into Austin to Goodwill.”

  “You didn’t keep anything?”

  “Nope. Didn’t want or need it. The boys and I cope fine without it. End of story.”

  “Okay.” She pointed at the nearest drawer. “Silverware in here?”

  “Yep.”

  While she set the table, raised voices, giggles, and a pup’s happy barking filled the house.

  “Boys,” Ty called. “Run upstairs and wash up. Dinner’s ready.”

  Such fun, Sophie thought, as they finished the chaotic meal with her dessert—cupcakes baked in ice-cream cones and decorated with icing and sprinkles. She’d loved them as a kid and enjoyed watching Ty’s boys devour them.

  Later, she sat in front of a crackling fire, enjoying a cup of tea. From overhead, the sounds of three very buzzed little boys getting ready for bed drifted down to her.

  Trouble had scrambled up the stairs behind them, eager to take part in the routine. A spirited argument erupted over whose turn it was to have the pup in bed with him. Apparently, they took turns, and Ty was smart enough to have a chart. Jesse won.

  “Can we say good night to Sophie?”

  “Yes, but make it quick.”

  Freshly bathed and dressed in superhero pajamas, they raced downstairs, launching themselves at her. She knelt down and doled out hugs and kisses.

  Jonah wrapped his arms around her neck, then drew back to brush his fingers over her cheek. “You feel soft.”

  “Thank you.” She reached up for his hand and kissed the back of it.

  “You’re pretty, too.” He smiled and melted her heart. “Are you a mommy?”

  She shook her head.

  “We don’t have a mommy.” Josh wiggled beneath her arm to cuddle against her. “Do you want to be ours?”

  She closed her eyes and pulled him closer, kissing the top of his sweet-smelling head.

  A stair creaked, and she looked up to see Ty, hand on the rail, watching. “I’m sorry,” she mouthed.

  “It’s okay,” he said. “Boys, come on up to bed.”

  “But, Daddy,” Jesse wailed. “Sophie didn’t answer our question.”

  Our question, she thought. They were such a solid unit. Her thoughts scrambled, and she had no idea what to say.

  Ty answered for her. “Sophie’s here as a guest, son. She doesn’t live in Maverick Junction. Her house is a long, long way from here.”

  “But she could move, Daddy,” Jonah said. “We could help her. We could carry boxes and stuff.”

  The other two nodded, their little faces serious.

  “I have a job in Chicago, honey. I nee
d to go back to it.”

  “Get a new job here,” Josh wheedled.

  “Mommies don’t need jobs,” Jesse said. “They stay home and bake cookies and food that isn’t burned. Right, Daddy?”

  Brows raised, a half smile on her lips, Sophie looked at Ty. “What do you say to that, Daddy? Do mommies stay home to cook for their men?”

  He met her gaze. “Not always, boys. Some mommies like to work. They do important jobs.”

  “That’s okay, Sophie. We’ll let you work.” Jonah wrapped his arms around her neck again.

  “How about, for tonight, I carry you up to bed and help tuck all of you in?”

  “’Kay.”

  Crisis averted. Within five minutes she stood in the bedroom doorway beside Ty as he turned out the boys’ light and wished them happy dreams.

  “Sorry, Sophie. They don’t talk about their mom much. I don’t know where all that came from.”

  “It’s okay.” She patted his shoulder.

  He took her hand in his as they walked down the stairs. “How about coffee? Or some more tea.” He grinned. “Wine, maybe.”

  “I’d better not. It’s getting late, and I’m still new to these roads. Time I headed home.”

  “You afraid to be alone with me?” His eyes twinkled mischievously.

  “Not on your life, Mr. Rawlins.”

  “Good.” He pulled her close, and his lips dropped to hers.

  She let herself go. Gave in to the moment. He tasted so good. So right. His tongue teased her lower lip, and she met it with her own, nearly cried out when he deepened the kiss and took still more.

  Breathing heavily, he lifted his head. “Want to come back tomorrow night? I’ll do better than burned meat loaf. Promise.”

  Oh, she wanted to. Very much. Too much. And so she said, “No. Not tomorrow. How about the day after, and I’ll bring dinner. My place is too small for all of you, or I’d have you there.”

  “Sounds even better.” He walked her to the car and gave her another bone-dissolving kiss.

  As she pulled out of his drive, she glanced in her rearview mirror and saw him standing there, hands in his pockets, watching her. Not just alone, she thought. Lonely.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Sophie was a bundle of nerves.