The Maverick Meets His Match (Hearts of Wyoming Book 2)(80)



They passed the closed door of her grandfather’s cleared-out bedroom, passed the guestroom where the king-sized bed had been made up, and stopped at the guest room where they had spent their first night in separate twin beds. The door was closed, and she wondered if he’d made a mistake.

“This isn’t our room,” she said. “Least not anymore.”

His chuckle was warm and knowing, and he looked down at her with a wide smile on his face. He kissed the tip of her nose. “I should hope not.” Still holding her hand, he opened the door and gave it a little push so it swung wide.

There stood a crib in place of the twin beds. A beautiful walnut-tone crib with a curved backboard. Against the wall next to it was a matching dresser, and on top of it was a toy airplane.

He looked at her expectantly. She was literally speechless.

He frowned. “Did I get the wrong color or something?”

“No,” she said, finding her voice. “It’s just…when did you get this?”

“I went out today after…after we decided to have a kid. I took one of the ranch’s pick-up trucks. Only I didn’t realize you needed to put this stuff together. Took me the better part of two hours.” He walked over and touched the railing and gave a little shake. He turned to her. “See, it’s sturdy. It’s convertible too.”

“I see.” She was still amazed that he had done such a thing. She walked forward and touched the rail. It was real wood and looked expensive—and complicated to put together. She looked up into his eager face. “It’s beautiful.”

She didn’t have the heart to tell him that it might be considered bad luck to buy things for a baby that was not yet conceived, much less born.

“I put the twin beds in storage in the basement and sealed up the mattresses in plastic covers.”

“And you bought a toy airplane.”

He nodded, obviously pleased with himself. “Boy or girl, I figure they’ll enjoy it. It has a remote control.”

The grin on his face was downright boyish. But when he turned to look at her, his expression had turned serious.

He cupped her chin. His hands were warm. His thumb brushed over her cheek, and he rested his forehead against hers, blocking out everything else, engulfing her and sucking up all the oxygen in the room. “I want everything to be perfect for our baby, Mandy. For as long as it lasts, I’d like everything to be perfect for us as well.”

Her heart swelled, and she tried to breathe, as it seemed her heart was pressed against her lungs. His mouth swept over hers. She wanted him. She wanted all of him. And she wanted more from him than she knew he was willing to give.

The kiss was deep, full, and with a tongue that performed a sensuous dance with hers. She wrapped her arms around his neck and hung on, giving as much as she could. There was no reason to hold back. They had successfully negotiated an agreement that would be a win for both of them, regardless of what he did to the company. She could finally let herself go, enjoy the guilty pleasure he conjured up every time she looked him.

While his one hand cupped her chin, his other wrapped around her and tugged her tight against him. She gave herself over to the sensuous pleasure of having a man make love with his mouth.

When he broke the kiss, he leaned back to gauge her reaction. She wasn’t sure what he saw, but his half-cocked smile said he was pleased. So did the hard rod tenting his jeans.

“You kiss like a fucking goddess.”

She flushed. He was to blame for making her feel sensual and wanton and wild.

“Hopefully you’re tempted,” she said.

“Tempted? I’m goddamn addicted.”

This time she initiated the kiss, caressing him with her lips, enticing him with her tongue, and wrapping her arms around him like a python hugging its meal.

His hands brushed down her back, pressing her closer, against his hard body, sending little shivers of anticipation through her. She wanted him. She wanted him inside of her. She wanted him deep inside of her.

Before she realized what he was doing, he’d lifted her off the ground, cradling her in his muscular arms.

“We’re going to bed,” he said, heading for the hallway. “We’ve got a crib to fill.”





Chapter 20


Mandy stepped out of the office building and into the bright sunshine of a late September morning. Ty was off doing god-knew-what, and so it was left to her to decide what bulls would be used for next weekend’s rodeo. She headed toward the pens. This next rodeo was a big one, and they would be expecting Prescott’s best.

The days had melded into weeks, and the weeks into months, and she still wasn’t pregnant. The sex, however, was mighty incredible. The attraction she felt for Ty had grown stronger with the knowledge that each time could be the moment they conceived their child. She had tried not to get too hyper about the ebb and flow of her cycle. Her doctor had warned her to simply relax and let it happen, as it surely would, given they were both healthy and everything was working.

She had tried to push from her mind any idea Ty would sell her company. He’d promised to advise her if any realistic offer came their way, and so far, none had. And she’d asked. Though it was known on the circuit that Prescott might be for sale, apparently tight credit and a struggling economy were giving any serious buyer pause. And Mandy didn’t consider Stan Lassiter a serious buyer, given his lowball offer.

Anne Carrole's Books