Heaven, Texas (Chicago Stars #2)(43)

Her mouth flew open in outrage. “You want me to buy you condoms?”

“I sure do. When you’ve made yourself a walking target for paternity suits, you learn to be real careful.”

A flush crept from her neck all the way up to her hairline. “Bobby Tom, I am not buying you condoms.”

“You’re not?”

She shook her head.

He shoved his fingertips in the back pocket of his jeans and shook his head regretfully. “I was hoping I wasn’t going to have to do this, but I can see we need to clear our communication channels right from the beginning. Do you happen to remember what your new job title is?”

“I believe I’m to be your—uh—personal assistant.”

“That’s exactly right. And what that means is, you’re supposed to be assisting me personally.”

“That doesn’t mean I’m your slave.”

“And here I was counting on Willow to have explained all this to you.” He sighed. “When she was telling you about your new job, did she happen to mention that I’m in charge?”

“I believe she did mention that.”

“And did she say anything about the fact that you’re supposed to do what I tell you to?”

“She—Well, yes, she said—But I’m sure she didn’t mean—”

“Oh, I’m sure she did. Starting today, I’m your new boss, and as long as you follow orders, I know the two of us are going to get along just fine. Now I’d appreciate it if you could get to that linoleum before we finish shooting today.”

Her nostrils flared and he could almost see the steam coming out of her ears. She puckered her mouth as if she were getting ready to spit out bullets and hitched up her purse.

“Very well.”

He waited until she’d almost gotten away from him before he called her back. “Gracie?”

She turned, her eyes wary.

“About those condoms, sweetheart. Make sure you get the jumbos. Anything smaller is too tight a fit.”

Until then, Bobby Tom had never seen a woman blush on top of a blush, but Gracie managed it. She fumbled for her sunglasses, slapped them back over her eyes, and fled.

He chuckled softly. He knew he should feel bad about bullying her, but instead, he was inordinately pleased with himself. Gracie was one of those women who could drive a man crazy if he let her. All in all, it was better to establish the natural order of things right from the beginning.



An hour later, with her purchases made, she pulled out of the drugstore parking lot in Bobby Tom’s Thunderbird. Her cheeks still burned as she remembered what had just happened at the pharmacy counter. After having reminded herself that modern, socially aware women purchased condoms all the time, she had finally worked up enough nerve to set her purchase next to the register only to have Suzy Denton come up to her at exactly that moment.

The box had sat in plain view like a ticking grenade. Suzy saw it, of course, and immediately busied herself studying a photograph of a two-headed dog on the front page of one of the tabloids. Gracie had wanted to die.

Now she shared her feelings with Elvis, who was tucked into an infant car seat next to her. “Just when I think I can’t embarrass myself in front of Suzy any more than I already have, something else happens.”

Elvis burped.

She smiled despite herself. “Easy for you to say. You weren’t the one buying the condoms.”

He chortled and blew a saliva bubble. As she’d been leaving the ranch, she’d run into Natalie, who was frantically dashing around trying to find someone reliable to watch over Elvis for an hour or so while she filmed her first scene of the day. When Gracie had volunteered, Natalie had showered her with gratitude and a lengthy series of instructions, relaxing only when Gracie had finally started taking notes.

Gracie’s hangover had disappeared and her head no longer ached. She’d retrieved a clean dress, a sadly wrinkled black-and-brown-striped shirtwaist, from the suitcase in the trunk and changed into it in the motor home before she’d left. Now, she once again felt human.

She had just reached the edge of the town when a pungent odor prickled her nostrils, followed by the unhappy sounds of a baby who didn’t like lying around in a dirty diaper. She looked over at him. “You stinker.”

He puckered up his face and began to wail. There was no traffic coming so she pulled to the side of the road, where she managed to change the baby. She had just resettled behind the wheel when she was distracted by the crunch of tires in gravel.

As she turned in her seat, she watched an imposing-looking man in a beautifully tailored light gray suit climb out of a burgundy BMW parked on the shoulder of the road behind her. For an older man, he was very attractive: short dark hair barely flecked with gray, an arresting face, and a powerful body that didn’t seem to have an extra ounce of fat on it.

“Do you need help?” he asked, coming to a stop next to the side of the car.

“No, but thank you.” She nodded toward the baby. “I had to change a diaper.”

“I see.” He smiled at her, and she found herself smiling back. It was nice to know there were still people in the world who would inconvenience themselves to help out someone else.

“This is Bobby Tom Denton’s car, isn’t it?”

“Yes, it is. I’m his assistant, Gracie Snow.”