by Mary Leo
AND BABY MAKES THREE?
Veterinarian Coco Grant is used to animals being left on her doorstep. The last thing she expects to find there is an abandoned baby girl. As a temporary mommy, Coco can’t resist loving her sweet little charge. But there’s also Coco’s growing attraction to the town’s handsome, if infuriatingly by-the-book, sheriff.
To help with the baby, Sheriff Jet Wilson is practically living with Coco—and the town gossips are in seventh heaven! It’s only when rumors start circulating about Lily’s real father that Jet realizes that there’s a lot more at stake than setting a few tongues wagging. Because not only is the lawman falling for the baby...he’s falling for Coco even harder.
Didn’t he trust himself...or maybe he didn’t trust her?
Jet was in a pickle, and had no choice but to take Coco up on that sofa offer.
“Fine,” he said aloud as he trudged back to her front door, the snow and cold wind blasting his face and hands with its bitter sting. He hated nights like this, nights when Mother Nature reminded him of her power, and when memories of his childhood came crashing back. But most of all, he hated that the baby would now be a ward of the state and he would be the one to hand her over.
The irony was too real.
Life sure could stink at times, he thought, but before he was able to ring the bell, Coco swung open the door and handed him that shot of scotch.
“Thanks,” he said, stepping forward.
“I saw you through the window and figured as much,” she said, her voice low and sultry, feet bare, pretty little toes painted a bright pink.
No doubt about it, he was in for it now...
Dear Reader,
This is the last book for the Grant family. It features Doctor Coco Grant and Sheriff Jet Wilson, a character I introduced in previous Briggs books. The good sheriff never had a very prominent role until he spoke to me when I began to outline this book.
I couldn’t ignore him. Not when I knew he would make such a great hero for Coco, who knows everything about animals, but absolutely nothing about babies. I decided to turn things around and have Jet be the one who can change a diaper, prepare formula and lull a fussy baby into sleep. It’s all in his background, which he thought was his misfortune, but as it turns out it’s one of his biggest assets.
I really loved writing about these characters and baby Lily, who will surely steal your heart. After all, she stole mine as soon as I met her. I happen to love babies, and this little darlin’ is especially sweet. So get ready to fall in love not only with baby Lily, but with Jet Wilson, who just wants to do what’s best for everyone involved.
It’s really hard for me to say goodbye to the Grants, just as it was difficult to say goodbye to the Grangers, but I’m moving on to the Porter family, with four delightful stories planned beginning in 2018.
Till then, enjoy the Grants as they come together once again, along with those quirky townsfolk from Briggs, Idaho, to prove that love is all you need...and maybe a good snowplow.
Visit me on Facebook, maryleoauthor, and Twitter, @maryleoauthor.
Happy reading!
Mary
A BABY FOR
THE SHERIFF
Mary Leo
USA TODAY bestselling author Mary Leo grew up in south Chicago in the tangle of a big Italian family. She’s worked in Hollywood, Las Vegas and Silicon Valley. Currently she lives in Las Vegas with her husband, author Terry Watkins, and their sweet kitty, Sophie. Visit her website at maryleo.com.
Books by Mary Leo
Harlequin Western Romance
A Cowboy in Her Arms
A Cowboy to Kiss
Harlequin American Romance
Falling for the Cowboy
Aiming for the Cowboy
Christmas with the Rancher
Her Favorite Cowboy
A Christmas Wedding for the Cowboy
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For darling Elena, who contacts me every day to see how I’m doing, who surprises me with thoughtful gifts and who is a constant delight.
And for my son, Rich, who fell in love with her.
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Epilogue
Excerpt from Twins on the Doorstep by Marie Ferrarella
Chapter One
The wine was poured. The fire burned bright in the hearth. Doctor Coco Grant, the town’s vet, had painted her toenails, donned extra makeup, chosen her most seductive underwear—the blush lace panties and bra she’d bought anticipating this moment—slipped into her sexiest black dress and even shaved her legs.
All of it done in preparation for her date with Russ Knightly, the potential new mayor of Briggs, Idaho, and one of the most sought-after eligible bachelors for a hundred miles. At thirty-three, he would be the youngest mayor of Briggs, and the one man in the entire county whom Coco had lusted over for the past five years while he dated several other women. One of them he’d even proposed to. Fortunately for Coco, that engagement didn’t last more than a few weeks.
Now it was Coco’s turn...the woman he was meant to be with, the woman he would love like no other, the woman for whom he was about to fulfill all her sexual fantasies in one hot night, and the woman she hoped would one day be referred to as Doctor Coco Knightly, the mayor’s wife. Her family, especially her brother, Carson, admired Russ. Carson had been sponsored by the Knightly Endowment for the Preservation of Western Culture when he had first started competing as a bronc rider in local rodeos.
Coco had been smitten ever since Russ, and a few other cowboys, rescued a small herd of wild horses trapped up in the Teton Mountains. Russ had risked his life to go up there and lead those animals out, under severe avalanche warnings for the area.
Ever since that moment, she thought Russ Knightly was a kindred spirit who loved and respected animals as much as she did. He was simply the bravest man alive, or at least the bravest man in Briggs, next to her brother and her dad, of course.
“I’ve been thinking about you all day,” Russ said as he walked backward to her bedroom, pulling her along with one hand, the other caressing his glass of expensive scotch, a scotch that Coco had ordered online just for this occasion, a fifteen-year-old scotch she knew he would love.
“Me, too,” she told him as she eagerly followed him, aroused by the mere idea of what was about to happen in her once lonely bedroom.
She and Russ had been dating for almost two months, thanks to an official introduction by her brother, but because of her schedule and his mayoral campaign, they hadn’t found the time to take their relationship to the next level.
Tonight, they would break through all those levels with pure lust, pure sex and pure seduction. At twenty-nine, Coco hadn’t really experienced a lot of sex, especially not the kind that Russ Knightly was noted for. She’d been too busy with her studies, volunteering and dreaming about Russ to care much about dating other guys.
But all that was in her past now. Tonight the floodgates were open, and each time he touched her a fire i
gnited that she didn’t want to put out anytime soon.
Heck, Coco had even locked her little dog, Punky, a Yorkshire terrier, in the bathroom. For some reason she couldn’t understand, Punky didn’t seem to like Russ, and growled whenever he came close to Coco.
Well, there would be none of that tonight.
Tonight Coco and Russ would be so close they might need the Jaws of Life to pull them apart.
“I have plans for you, baby, plans for your body,” he muttered in a deep voice.
She loved it when he called her baby.
“What kind of plans?” she teased, loving how he made her feel all tingly.
“Dirty plans that will make you blush whenever you think about our first night.”
“I’m already blushing,” she demurely said. “And I have my own plans.”
That was a complete fabrication. The only plans she’d had that day were how to foal a breached horse and what kind of drugs she would administer to Helen Granger’s horse, Tater, for the infection in his right front femur.
Russ stopped, pulled her in tight and kissed her. Although Coco’s mind sometimes drifted whenever they kissed, she felt certain once they were in bed together her focus would laser in on the task at hand—not that making love to Russ was a task. What she meant was, once they were in bed together, nothing else would matter and she’d be able to surrender to the moment.
Of course it would be that way, she told herself. He was the man she wanted to be with forever. The man she’d dreamed about, longed for and pictured as the father of her children.
Russ Knightly was her man, her guy, her Mr. Right.
As he pulled her in tighter and she felt the bulge of his manhood press against her body, her heart raced, and suddenly all she could think of was how this was finally going to happen. She was going to make love with her dream man. Life couldn’t get any better if it had been scripted.
Until the doorbell rang for her animal clinic downstairs. She’d only recently, in the last eight months, finished construction on the two-thousand-foot expansion. She’d had proper ventilation installed, added to the reception area and incorporated two large pens for the livestock she inevitably took in. She’d been thinking of hiring another doctor to help out, but so far, she hadn’t made the time to begin the search...a fact she now found herself regretting.
Russ kept his lips pressed to hers as if he hadn’t heard it.
“I...I, um, I should get that,” she mumbled while his lips stuck to hers.
“Not tonight. Whoever it is will go away.”
The bell rang again.
“Or not,” she said, trying to disengage from him. It felt as though his lips were glued to hers and she couldn’t unstick them.
“I...really...need...to...get...that.”
He finally stepped back and Coco swore their lips popped apart. “You’re not seriously going to leave me here like this while you answer the door.”
He nodded down toward the bulge in his pants, which for some odd reason was no longer doing it for her. Not when she knew someone’s animal could be in crisis.
“I’m sorry,” she said, slipping out from his embrace, “but as much as I would like to, I can’t ignore the bell. It wouldn’t be right. If someone’s trudged through all that snow and cold, I have no choice but to at least answer the door.”
He glanced at his watch. “It’s ten o’clock at night. Nobody just brings over their sick animal at this time of night without calling first.”
“All the more reason why I need to get that. It’s probably an emergency.”
Coco ran a hand through her hair, placed her wineglass on the table and turned to dash down the stairs to answer the door.
The bell rang again.
“Persistent, aren’t they?” he said, sounding resentful.
She turned back to him. “I’ll only be a minute. I’m sure it’s something minor and I’ll be able to fix it in no time.”
But Coco wasn’t so sure. Usually whenever her doorbell rang this late, someone was leaving behind an unwanted or sick pet they could no longer care for. She flipped on the light switch in the stairwell and through the glass on the top half of the door caught the shadow of a woman wearing a puffy coat and hood as she walked away.
“Oh, shoot,” she said aloud, knowing full well it was a drop-off. She already had a piglet named Jimmy, two baby goats, one puppy, two persnickety calico kittens, an adult tortoise named Tortie and two temperamental baby llamas taking shelter in her clinic. She’d find homes for all of them eventually, but at the moment, the farm animals were illegal within city limits, and if Sheriff Jet Wilson—who did everything by the book—learned about them, he’d issue her another fine on top of the last two she couldn’t afford to pay. She’d spent all her savings on the expansion.
When she arrived at the bottom of the stairs, she grabbed the gray sweater that hung on a hook next to the door and slipped it on. Whatever was waiting for her on the other side of that door was more than likely going to require her standing out in the cold for a minute or two before she could wrangle it inside.
Good thing she still wore her shoes, albeit three-inch heels, but shoes nonetheless.
“Okay, what do we have this time?” she asked as she swung open the door expecting another goat or llama or...
* * *
SHERIFF JET WILSON fought his way back to the jail. The official white SUV, with the Briggs Sheriff’s Department logo emblazoned on the two front doors, was fishtailing at almost every turn. The snow was piling up fast now, and driving was nearing impossible. Benny Snoots, the town’s one and only official snowplow driver, worked as fast as he could, but the snow was just too much for him.
Russ Knightly, a man Jet Wilson didn’t much like, promised two more snowplows if he was elected mayor, and on a night like this, Jet considered giving him his vote...or not.
If, on the other hand, Mayor Sally Hickman won again, Jet would make sure at least one more snowplow was on her agenda, and if it wasn’t, he promised himself he’d take up the cause himself and add plowing capability to the front of the SUV.
When he finally pulled up in front of the small jailhouse, he parked curbside and got out. His very first step encased his cowboy boots in so much snow that it slipped inside his boots and made a mess of his nice warm woolen socks. He grabbed the bags of food that he’d picked up at Sammy’s Smokehouse off the back seat, slammed the doors shut and headed for the front of the jail. None of the townsfolk knew he was living at the jail these days and no one needed to know.
A water pipe had burst in his apartment earlier that week, and until his landlord could get it fixed and repair the damage to the floor and the wall, Jet didn’t have anywhere else to go...at least nowhere he could afford. All the rooms in this town were too pricey for him and, well, he didn’t want to impose on what few friends he had.
Being relatively new to Briggs, having lived there for less than two years, making friends had been tough. Especially since he’d ticked off Russ Knightly, who seemed to be a big deal in town, next to Carson Grant, the town’s one and only rodeo hero. Jet admired Carson, and had met him a few times, but Russ was another story entirely. He hadn’t meant to make him mad, but the guy had been doing seventy-five in a fifty-five-mile zone, had a taillight out and was missing his front license plate when Jet had pulled him over. Idaho required two license plates, no matter what kind of vehicle you drove, and besides, the guy had way too much attitude for Jet’s liking.
Little had Jet known that Russ seemed to pull all the important strings in town, and in the state, for that matter, and when you were merely a small-town sheriff, those strings could get pretty tight.
In the end, his violations had somehow been dismissed, and Jet had ended up the bad guy.
Of course, at the moment, Jet didn’t give a hoot. The jail suited h
im just fine, thank you very much. The bed in the cell was comfortable enough, and rarely used, so he thought he’d break it in for a few days.
He swung open the heavy front door, hit the light switch, slipped out of his bulky parka and cowboy hat, tugged off his boots and his wet socks, sat down at his desk inside his small office and tore open the bags of delicious-smelling barbecue. His mouth instantly watered in anticipation. He hadn’t eaten all day, and his stomach had started aching about three hours ago from lack of food. The pungent smells filled the room as Jet cracked open a can of beer and took a long pull.
He was in for the night, and it felt good to finally be free of all responsibilities. He took a big bite of one of the beef ribs, ripping the meat off the bone with his teeth, groaned his delight and walked over to put his wet socks on the old radiator under the bank of windows so they could dry. All the blinds were closed, so no one could see him, not that there was anyone out there looking on a night like this. Still it gave him comfort to be hidden from view for a while. He walked back to the desk, took another big bite and was just about to sit down and settle in when the phone rang...his phone, in his pocket. The phone that he kept private, and only a handful of people had the number.
That phone rang.
The jailhouse phone had an all-night service for any emergency calls, but that wasn’t ringing.
He felt the sigh that seemed to come up from his bare feet before he heard it expel from his throat as he pulled his phone out of his pocket and checked the screen.
Doctor Coco Grant’s name lit up the black screen along with the picture he’d taken of her in front of her illegal goat pen inside her clinic.
Part of him didn’t want to answer, but he knew if she was calling this late at night, it must be important.
Frankly, he didn’t want to hear about “important” right now, not in the middle of what had to be the best barbecue ribs Sammy had ever created.
He chewed and swallowed.
