Into his hand: When a bull is spinning in the same direction of a rider’s riding hand.
Rhett fed Julie while Tara supervised and sipped her beer.
The room was masculine with a Texas cowboy motif. The walls behind the couch and the fireplace were both limestone. The other two walls were paneled with dark mahogany wood. Hand-scraped hardwood floors. Hat rack in the corner. Thickly padded leather furniture. Plush sheepskin rug. French doors led out onto a luxurious composite deck, and a wide cathedral window let in the yellow glow of a full moon.
She studied him in the muted lighting from the bronze floor lamp with an Edison bulb on the lowest wattage. Shadows fell across his handsome face as he leaned over Julie, his concentration fully on his task.
For the first time, Tara saw in him the dedication he brought to his sport. The determined set of his mouth, the ability to sit in the moment without losing focus, how his entire body said he was all in.
A tiny circular bite, like the quick snick of a hole punch, perforated her heart.
She was going to lose Julie to him. The way he looked at his daughter, with awe and tenderness, told the story she did not want to hear.
He was hooked.
But so was she.
Although she was sitting across the room from him, it was still dangerously close. She could feel the enigmatic pull squarely in the center of her stomach.
The man was flat-out beautiful, and she was alone with him in the middle of nowhere. If she strained her ears, she could hear the far-off howl of coyotes. She’d grown up on the ranch, so coyotes didn’t scare her, but other things about this situation alarmed her.
The isolation.
Her unexpected and unwanted attraction to Rhett.
The crazy rise of sexual desire she’d feared long buried with Kit.
Julie finished her bottle. He lifted her to his shoulder, gently patted her back to burp her. “There, there, sweetheart—”
Tara was just about to tell him to put a blanket over his shoulder, but before she could get the words out, Julie spit up all down the back of his shirt.
“Oopsy,” he said, taking it in stride. Such a light, child-friendly word she doubted he’d ever used before.
Tara started to get up and take Julie from him, so he could get cleaned up, but Rhett raised a stop-sign hand.
“I’ve got this.” He reached for a wet wipe from the box Tara had arranged on the table before he’d started feeding Julie. He cleaned off her little face and eased her into her baby carrier sitting on the floor beside him.
Then Rhett stood, straightened, and stripped off his shirt. Right there in front of her. Giving her a full-frontal view of his exquisite bare chest.
Tara gulped and her lungs spasmed.
He wadded up the shirt and tossed it onto the floor, his honed muscles bunching and broadening under sleek, burnished skin as he moved.
Her jaw dropped. Mesmerized, she could not have looked away if a herd of wild bulls had come charging through the door.
Completely at ease, he raised his arms over his head, interlocked his fingers, and stretched. Revealing super-sexy armpits and even more hot muscles. Arching his back, he leaned to first one side and then the other, working out kinks. Every muscle in his chest and abdomen clearly delineated. Lean. Toned. Six-pack. The coveted V. Seven percent body fat.
Yummy, yum, yum.
Her breathing slowed.
Her ears flushed hot.
Her stomach quivered.
Rhett Lockhart should be classified as a Schedule 1 drug. Dangerous and highly addictive. No wonder women fell for him. He was the perfect specimen of physical manhood.
Dazzled and dazed, she felt as if she’d floated outside her body and was seeing herself sitting there from a great distance. A lonely woman desperate for the tender touch of a man. Her senses scrambled. She smelled colors, tasted music, heard textures. A mad conglomeration of synesthesia.
What was going on? It had to be the beer. She didn’t drink much, and surely it had gone to her head. This man’s body was the stuff of romantic fantasies.
She closed her eyes. Pipe dreams. Come back down to earth, Tara. She felt a solid jolt as she reconnected with herself, settled back into her body. Her eyes flew open.
He was staring at her, and immediately something intangible hit like a thunder crash between them. “Is it just my imagination?” he asked, his voice gruff. “Or is there chemistry bubbling here?”
Tara stopped breathing, and the hairs on her nape lifted while goose bumps spread up her arms the way they did when she experienced something particularly moving, like when a NICU baby suddenly took a turn for the better. “Cheesy, Lockhart. Super cheesy.”
“I’m not—”
“Do us both a favor and save your pickup lines for the buckle bunnies. I’ve got no time for your silliness.”
His eyes narrowed, and his mouth flattened out. “Too bad you feel that way. Because I was definitely feeling something brewing.”
So was she. But she would cut out her own tongue before she admitted it. “Nope. Nothing brewing. No brew here. I’m brewless.”
He lowered his lashes, assessing her. “Well, except for the beer in your hand.”
Her hand seemed welded to the neck of her beer, and she couldn’t have moved if the house had been afire.
Then that bad-boy grin of his lit up his face, and helplessly she flashed him a smile in return.
Mischief widened his eyes and deepened his smile, and he looked at her as if he was aching to throw his lasso around her and haul her close to his chest. He looked as if he was about to say something highly inappropriate.
Flustered, Tara jumped up and turned to the baby. “JuJu, honey, it’s time for your bath.”
She scooped Julie out of her carrier, cuddled the baby close, and forced herself not to glance back as she headed for the bathroom.
Under Tara’s tutelage, Rhett bathed the baby, gave Julie her medication, set up the Pack ’n Play in the guest room, dressed Julie for bed, and hooked up the apnea monitor. By the time he finished, it was just after ten o’clock, but Tara was already yawning.
Rhett insisted that Tara sleep in his bed while he stayed on a futon in the guest-bedroom-turned-makeshift-nursery.
She argued.
He countered. Pointing out she was the one who insisted he had to take full charge of Julie’s care, using her words against her like a weapon.
Sometimes, Tara wished she could kick her own ass. She fretted at the notion of not sleeping beside Julie. Worried about what could go wrong.
Except she managed to get a full eight hours’ sleep, something that hadn’t happened since she’d brought Julie home from the hospital.
The morning sun peeking through the curtains woke her well after dawn.
Stretching opulently on the big king-sized mattress, she reached her arms and legs out to the four corners of the Western-style bedposts, spread eagle on her back. Wondered idly what it might feel like to be tied up to those posts with soft restraints. Shocked herself, particularly because in her bondage fantasy, Rhett was the one doing the tying.
Those wayward thoughts shot her upright in bed, hair tumbling into her face, heart pounding. What the fudge?
To distract herself, she picked up her cell phone, which she’d left charging on the bedside dresser. Checked for texts. There were several.
From Mom: Hope all went well last night.
From Kaia: A picture of her kids snoozing soundly in her and Ridge’s king-sized bed. Little angels.
From Aria: A snapshot of blueberry pancakes and bacon. Yum.
She texted them all back with a gif of a cartoon cow blowing kisses and a selfie of her looking sheet-mussed, well-rested, and flashing a thumbs up. Best sleep N months.
Aria shot back: Ooh La La. What does Rhett look like?
Tara wrote: Is your mind always in the gutter?
Pretty much. Aria confirmed. Rhett?
Tara: We R not hooking up.
Aria: Two words for you. Daisy Dukes.
Tara: Over my dead body.
Aria: Really? Not even a kiss?
Tara: Nothing happened!!!
Aria: Dammit. I lost a bet with Kaia.
Tara: U 2 R incorrigible.
Aria: I know.
Tara: Goodbye.
Aria: Tell Rhett I said hi.
Tara: No.
Aria: Fair enough.
Just as she finished sending the texts, another message came through for her. This time from Rhett. Her stomach did a funny little twisty thing.
U up yet?
Grinning, she slid out of bed, put her bra on underneath the T-shirt she’d slept in, and wriggled into her jeans. She padded to the bathroom, splashed water on her face, brushed her teeth and her hair. Caught herself humming “Walking on Sunshine” as she strolled across the hall to the nursery.
She paused at the door. She could almost feel the room yanking her forward as she raised her fist to knock. Her goal was singular. Check on the baby. Make sure all was well. Don’t bother knocking, just open the door and walk on in.
But would Rhett appreciate that?
Did it really matter what he appreciated?
As a compromise, she lightly ran her fingers over the door like a keyboard, a short riff of hi-I’m-here, before she turned the knob and stepped inside.
Julie was sound asleep in the Pack ’n Play. An empty bottle of formula sat on the bedside table. Rhett lounged on the futon, head thrown back, mouth open, snoring softly, baby blanket wrapped around his shoulders. His cell phone rested loosely in his hand.
Aw. He looked so adorable. He was making such an effort. She had no choice but to give Ms. Bean a good report.
Julie gurgled.
Alarmed that the baby might be choking, she spun around to see Julie smiling and waving her little fists. Julie made an I’m-happy-to-see-you noise that filled her with joy.
“Shh, let Daddy sleep,” she whispered, leaning over the crib to change Julie’s diaper, only to discover it was already dry. Rhett must have changed it when he texted Tara, and then they both had fallen back asleep.
Julie looked up at her with big eyes. Her mother’s eyes, Tara thought, and felt a quick stab of anger at Rhona deep in the center of her chest. No, no. She couldn’t be mad at Rhona. It wasn’t her place to judge Rhona. All she could do was love this sweet little button.
She scooped Julie from the crib and carried her to the kitchen. Prepared a bottle, and then went outside to sit on the front porch rocking chair to feed her. Julie ate, staring up at Tara as if she was the most magical person in the world.
They peered into each other’s eyes, transfixed.
“I love you,” Tara whispered to the baby. “So, so very much.”
“Cup of coffee?”
Tara startled, turned to see Rhett standing in the doorway, holding two mugs of coffee. He had an odd look on his face that she couldn’t quite decipher. It was part wistfulness, part regret, part worry.
“Just the way you like it,” he enticed, treading barefoot across the porch toward her.
“No creamer, two sugars?”
“Yep.”
Julie had stopped eating and had fallen asleep again. Tara set the bottle down on the side table, readjusted Julie so she was stretched out over the top of Tara’s thighs, and accepted the coffee mug Rhett passed to her.
“Thank you. Since Julie came along, I’ve been mainlining this stuff.”
“After last night, I can see why. My daughter takes after me, she’s a night owl.”
“Didn’t get much sleep?” Tara asked, not feeling the least bit sorry for him. It was all she could do not to say, Suck it up, buttercup.
“Couple of hours, tops.”
They both paused to gaze down at the sleeping baby. Neither one of them mentioned what had almost transpired between them last night. Thank God, they had not kissed. It would have been a disaster. But the feelings he’d stirred in her were stronger than ever, and that was problematic enough.
To take her mind off the kiss-that-almost-happened-but-didn’t, Tara took a sip of coffee. “Oh wow, this is a perfect cup. How is it you take note of the things I like and remember them?”
He squatted beside the rocking chair, stroked the baby’s cheek with a calloused finger. “I’m doing my damnedest to impress you. Is it working?”
It was, but she wasn’t about to admit that. “Why are you trying so hard to impress me?”
“I want you to think well of me.”
“Why do you care what I think?”
“I value your opinion.”
He did? She eyed him. He aimed that stunning smile at her. Something was up.
“And because I really need you on my side.”
Selfish man. It wasn’t enough that he’d come to take Julie away from her, he expected her to be happy about it too. “And why is that?”
He held up his phone, his face long and solemn. “My lawyer just called. Since you, me, and Rhona are all from Jeff Davis County, he’s suggesting I petition the court for a change of venue in Julie’s custody hearing. And Ms. Bean has agreed to start the paperwork with CPS so you can move back home to Cupid while you’re fostering Julie.”
Tara stared at him blankly, as if he were speaking gibberish.
Had she not heard him? Should he repeat himself?
Rhett watched her closely, trying to figure out what to say next. She set down her coffee and moved Julie from her lap to her shoulder and started humming a sweet lullaby. Tara’s hair fell gently over the curve of her cheek, her face luminous in the morning sunlight.
“Tea?” he ventured.
“I’m not going to yell at you in front of the baby,” she said, her tone measured and calm.
He got a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach. What had he done wrong?
Tara stood up from the rocking chair and, with Julie in her arms, breezed past him into the house. He followed on her heels, every muscle in his body tensed.
She took Julie into the guest room, settled her into the Pack ’n Play, then grabbed his wrist and led him to the living room. Once there, she whirled around to face him, hands planted on her hips. “You’ve already filed for custody? You lied to me about only making your decision yesterday.”
“No, no.” He shook his head, gave her a friendly smile that only deepened her scowl. “I just texted Lamar yesterday that I wanted to file for custody. He jumped right on it.”
“Over the Memorial Day weekend?”
“He’s a very efficient lawyer. I have him on retainer.”
Tara smacked her forehead with a palm and pivoted a full three-sixty on her heel. “And he wants to take the hearing out of El Paso?”
“It makes the most sense since everyone involved is from Jeff Davis County.”
She pounded her right fist into the open palm of her left hand. “You’re forgetting I have a job in El Paso. Unless you just don’t give a damn.”
“It’s not like that.”
“No? It’s a three-hour drive to El Paso. I’m caring for a premature infant. How easy do you think it is to make that trek for the court hearings?”
“That’s the reason Lamar suggested the venue change. So that you could be near your family.”
“Don’t feed me that line of bull. You’re doing it because you think your chances of getting custody are better in Cupid where your family casts a long shadow.”
“I’m not going to lie, that’s part of it.”
“You’re a jackass, you know that?” She looked shattered and her voice trembled. With anger? he wondered. Or fear?
“I was just trying to help.”
“Either you’re a liar or delusional.”
“I understand you’re upset, but will you just listen to me for a minute?”
Her arms were a straitjacket laced around her body. Hands clutching her opposite shoulders, elbows stacked over her breasts. “Speak.”
“I approached the administration at your hospital about you taking a leave of absence—”
“You did what!”
“I called—”
“When?”
“Last week. Before I’d even decided for sure I was filing for custody. I told them I wanted to pay Julie’s medical bills and that I wanted to hire you to be her personal nurse. They thought it was a good idea.”
She was livid, steam practically coming out of her ears. Rhett knew he’d screwed up big-time. “You can’t mess around in people’s lives like that.”
“Aw, c’mon, Tea. Don’t be upset.”
Her eyes were razor blades, slicing him like sushi. “Oh, I’m not supposed to be unhappy that you’re wrecking my life?”
“I was trying not to wreck your life.” Misery crawled over him, a slow slug of nastiness. He’d offended her, and that was not what he’d intended. “At least not long-term.”
“Explain.”
“I’m going to get custody of Julie eventually,” he said. “You know that.”
She squeezed her eyes closed, heaved a heavy sigh. When she opened them, he saw tears swimming there, and it tore him apart. He wanted to reach out to her, take her into his arms, and promise that everything was going to be all right.
“Tara,” he said. “Listen to me. My hope is to give you as much time with Julie as I can. And yes, it does help me stay on the circuit. I’m not going to deny that or apologize for it. I talked with my lawyer and I gave this a lot of thought. If you take a leave of absence, I will pay you double your salary to move in here and take care of Julie while I’m on the road.”
“You expect me to live in your house?”
“I’m offering you the opportunity—”
“You’re controlling and manipulating me.”
“You don’t have to take leave. You can stay at your job in El Paso. I’ll even get Ridge to fly you to Cupid for the custody hearings so that you don’t have that long drive. But we are filing for a change of venue. It makes sense legally. Whether you take leave from your job or not, that is up to you. But here’s the bottom line. Julie is my daughter, not yours. And I have a right to do what I think is best.”
“You’re forgetting I have legal custody of her.”
“For now.”
She began to pace, knees locked, walking on wooden legs in short stabbing steps. “You damn Lockharts are so high-handed. You think all Alzates are your servants. You believe just because you’re rich you’re entitled to get your way.”
“I understand you’re upset. This is a lot to process. I’m going to give you some time to think.” He could see it from her point of view, but she couldn’t see his.
She stopped mid-pace to throw daggers at him with her eyes, aiming straight for the center of his brain. “You know nothing. You’re as selfish as ever. I can’t believe I thought you had changed.”
“I have changed.”
Her laugh was a bark, astringent and rude. “You haven’t changed a bit. I admit, you had me hoodwinked for a bit. But you’re still the same old Rhett Lockhart through and through. The guy who expects to have his cake and eat it too.”
He tried the charming smile, unrolling it like a red carpet. “I’ve always been a fan of cake.”
Grunting, Tara picked up a couch cushion and smacked him in the shoulder with it.
“Hey!”
“You deserved that.” She tossed the pillow aside.
“Does this mean you’re softening to the idea?”
She stared a hole through him, but she didn’t look quite as angry as she had a few minutes ago.
“What do you say?” he wheedled. “Move in here, take care of Julie while I’m on the road. Be near your mom and dad, granny and sisters. I won’t even be around.”
Tara leaned her back against the wall, folded her arms over her chest, this time looking like a sullen gangster in a 1940s movie. “That’s your plan. I stay out here in the middle of nowhere, taking care of your daughter, while you gallivant around on bulls, living the high life. That doesn’t seem fair, even if you’re paying me double. I’ll be working twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week.”
She made a strong case. In good conscience, how could he expect her to do all the work while he got off scot-free? “How about this. I’ll hire someone else to come in for a few hours twice a week so that you can get a break.”
“My mother and Kaia can spell me when I need it, that’s not the point.”
“What is the point?”
“You sure you want to hear this?” She sliced him again with the hard edge of her gaze.
“Lay it on me.”
“You say you’ve changed.”
“I have.” He came toward her, heart pounding. She’d put her own back against the wall. He stopped in front of her, the tips of his boots touching her socks.
She didn’t blink. Didn’t back down. “You claim that Julie means the world to you, but yet you still want to ride.”
“What would you have me do? It’s my job.”
“Either be all in or all out. Quit the rodeo. Or . . .”
“Or what?” He could feel the warmth of her breath on his skin. He wondered what she would do if he kissed her right now. Probably slap him, and he would deserve it. Or maybe, just maybe, she would kiss him back.
“Drop your bid for custody.”
“And let you have my daughter?” That rankled. All she wanted was the baby. Why had he imagined she had any interest in him? Yes, they’d had a deep conversation, danced, and almost kissed last night, but they’d both had a couple of beers. It had just been the alcohol.
“I’ve got her already. Make it official, Rhett.” Her eyes were begging. “For my sake and Julie’s. Relinquish your parental rights. Walk away.”
Slowly, he shook his head. “No can do.”
She looked crushed.
He had her over a barrel and she knew it, but he took no satisfaction in it.
Tara met his stare, wrinkled her nose as if smelling rotten eggs, surrendered. “If I do this, we need to get one thing absolutely straight.”
“What’s that?”
“I am never, ever sleeping with you.”
“I never asked you to.”
“Good.”
“Fine.”
“Great.”
But it didn’t feel great. Not the least little bit.