Daddy Wore Spurs (Mills & Boon Cherish) (Men of the West, Book 32) by Stella Bagwell Page B
Authors: Stella Bagwell
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a pair of soulful gray eyes and warm lips turn him into a randy fool.
“What is all of this?”
At the sound of Mariah’s voice he quickly glanced over his shoulder to see her standing in the doorway of the feed room. After stomping off the porch in a huff not more than twenty minutes ago, he certainly hadn’t expected her to show up here at the barn.
“Where’s Harry?” he blurted the question.
“He just went to sleep. He’s safe in his crib and I only intend to be here for a few minutes.”
“What’s the matter? You didn’t jab enough barbs in me a while ago? You decided to come out here to the barn and try to cut me a few more times?”
Her lips tightened. “I didn’t walk out here to the barn to discuss that—that kissing episode on the porch. We’ve said enough about it. I came out here because I saw your truck was loaded with hay. And I didn’t ask for it.”
Relieved that she wasn’t going to keep harping about that kiss, or whatever the hell it had been, he turned and walked over to the open doorway. “That’s right. You didn’t ask for it. I took it upon myself to buy some things for the horses.”
The look of disapproval on her face changed to one of concern. Her mouth opened, then after a moment’s pause, snapped shut. When it opened a second time he expected to hear a loud protest. Instead, she simply said, “All right. Give me the bill and I’ll write you a check.”
“That won’t be necessary,” he told her.
Her shoulders straightened to a stiff line. “It’s necessary to me.”
He shook his head, while wondering how one moment he could be so on fire to make love to her and the next he wanted to yell with frustration. “We need to talk,” he said.
“There’s nothing you can say about this—”
“It’s not about the hay or the feed.” He stepped out of the barn and shut the door behind him. “Let’s go to the house. I’ll meet you there as soon as I move my truck.”
“I’ll be in the kitchen,” she told him.
* * *
A few minutes later, Finn entered the kitchen carrying several packages. As he placed them on the breakfast bar, Mariah left the cabinet counter where she’d been peeling apples and joined him.
He gestured toward the sacks. “I got all the things you had on the list and a few more. There’s a little something for you, too,” he added sheepishly.
She cast him a guarded glance. “Me? I didn’t write anything on the list for myself.”
Reaching for the sack closest to her, she pulled out diapers, formula, tiny T-shirts, matching shorts and two pairs of jeans that snapped on the inside of each leg. She couldn’t imagine this man strolling through the baby department, picking out clothes for Harry. It only gave her further proof that he wasn’t about to shy away from fatherhood.
As she thoughtfully smoothed a finger over the blue fabric, he said, “He might already have plenty of clothes. But I thought they were cute.”
“Very cute,” she agreed. “I’m surprised you didn’t find a Western shirt to go with the jeans.”
“I would have, but the store where I bought that stuff didn’t have any. And with it being Sunday the Western store was closed,” he said. “But give me time and I’ll have a stack of shirts for him. And when his feet get big enough, he’ll get a pair of boots. Just like mine.”
Clearly, Finn was already becoming very attached to Harry. He truly believed he was the father. If his DNA wasn’t a match to Harry’s, it would crush him. And strangely, Mariah didn’t want Finn to go through that heartbreak. Even though it meant he’d be taking the baby to Nevada.
She glanced down at Finn’s snub-toed brown boots. To her they looked like they were made from expensive alligator hide. And they probably were. She couldn’t imagine him wearing anything fake.
“Considering the size of your foot, that might take a while.”
He grinned and Mariah was relieved that the angry tension between them was
“What is all of this?”
At the sound of Mariah’s voice he quickly glanced over his shoulder to see her standing in the doorway of the feed room. After stomping off the porch in a huff not more than twenty minutes ago, he certainly hadn’t expected her to show up here at the barn.
“Where’s Harry?” he blurted the question.
“He just went to sleep. He’s safe in his crib and I only intend to be here for a few minutes.”
“What’s the matter? You didn’t jab enough barbs in me a while ago? You decided to come out here to the barn and try to cut me a few more times?”
Her lips tightened. “I didn’t walk out here to the barn to discuss that—that kissing episode on the porch. We’ve said enough about it. I came out here because I saw your truck was loaded with hay. And I didn’t ask for it.”
Relieved that she wasn’t going to keep harping about that kiss, or whatever the hell it had been, he turned and walked over to the open doorway. “That’s right. You didn’t ask for it. I took it upon myself to buy some things for the horses.”
The look of disapproval on her face changed to one of concern. Her mouth opened, then after a moment’s pause, snapped shut. When it opened a second time he expected to hear a loud protest. Instead, she simply said, “All right. Give me the bill and I’ll write you a check.”
“That won’t be necessary,” he told her.
Her shoulders straightened to a stiff line. “It’s necessary to me.”
He shook his head, while wondering how one moment he could be so on fire to make love to her and the next he wanted to yell with frustration. “We need to talk,” he said.
“There’s nothing you can say about this—”
“It’s not about the hay or the feed.” He stepped out of the barn and shut the door behind him. “Let’s go to the house. I’ll meet you there as soon as I move my truck.”
“I’ll be in the kitchen,” she told him.
* * *
A few minutes later, Finn entered the kitchen carrying several packages. As he placed them on the breakfast bar, Mariah left the cabinet counter where she’d been peeling apples and joined him.
He gestured toward the sacks. “I got all the things you had on the list and a few more. There’s a little something for you, too,” he added sheepishly.
She cast him a guarded glance. “Me? I didn’t write anything on the list for myself.”
Reaching for the sack closest to her, she pulled out diapers, formula, tiny T-shirts, matching shorts and two pairs of jeans that snapped on the inside of each leg. She couldn’t imagine this man strolling through the baby department, picking out clothes for Harry. It only gave her further proof that he wasn’t about to shy away from fatherhood.
As she thoughtfully smoothed a finger over the blue fabric, he said, “He might already have plenty of clothes. But I thought they were cute.”
“Very cute,” she agreed. “I’m surprised you didn’t find a Western shirt to go with the jeans.”
“I would have, but the store where I bought that stuff didn’t have any. And with it being Sunday the Western store was closed,” he said. “But give me time and I’ll have a stack of shirts for him. And when his feet get big enough, he’ll get a pair of boots. Just like mine.”
Clearly, Finn was already becoming very attached to Harry. He truly believed he was the father. If his DNA wasn’t a match to Harry’s, it would crush him. And strangely, Mariah didn’t want Finn to go through that heartbreak. Even though it meant he’d be taking the baby to Nevada.
She glanced down at Finn’s snub-toed brown boots. To her they looked like they were made from expensive alligator hide. And they probably were. She couldn’t imagine him wearing anything fake.
“Considering the size of your foot, that might take a while.”
He grinned and Mariah was relieved that the angry tension between them was
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