Rodeo Bride by Myrna Mackenzie Page B

out what to do next?” His smile was huge, his teasing tone was seductive.
    She reached out and placed her hand on his jaw. “You don’t have to do this, you know.”
    This time he didn’t smile and he turned into her hand slightly, his beard scratching a bit. She loved the sensation. Her heart did a flip. “Don’t have to what?” he asked. “Give the baby a bath?” His voice echoed through her body right down to her toes.
    She shook her head slowly. “You don’t have to be carefulwith me. You don’t have to make me laugh, although I like laughing with you. You don’t have to shy away from the difficult topics. I can’t have a baby. You know it. I know it. We’ve said it out loud, and that’s not a problem. I’m not made of glass. Okay?”
    “Not glass. Flesh and bone and…I’m sorry. I just can’t ignore the fact that you’ve been hurt, Colleen.”
    “You can’t change it, either. I know that all too well. It was a freak riding accident where I ended up cut up. When the doctors told me that I’d never have children, it stunned me at first, that riding—something I love so much—could take the thing I most wanted. I got angry, and I hated the fact that I was broken when I’d never let anything break me before. So, I got back on my horse and spent a lot of time riding the range and screaming at the sky that first year. I channeled my anger into my racing, but finally I realized that I could fight and yell all my life and it wouldn’t change a thing. So, I put it behind me—mostly—and I need you to put it out of your mind, too. I would hate it if you pitied me or were careful with me because of this. So, Dillon…don’t be careful.”
    For several seconds, tension filled the air as he stared at her, studied her.
    “Dillon, I mean it.”
    He muttered a curse and looked to one side.
    “Dillon?”
    He swung his head around, his eyes dark and fierce. “All right.”
    She frowned. “That could mean a lot of things.”
    “In this case,” he said quietly, “it means I won’t be…careful.”
    Which sounded so much more dangerous than he probably meant it to, Colleen was sure. She nodded and managed a shaky smile. “So, okay, yes,” she said, determined to change the subject and the mood. “I’ll show you how to give a babya bath. It’s not difficult. You just have to make sure to put everything out that you need ahead of time, because you can never leave him alone in the tub. I’ll show you how to make sure the temperature of the water is right. And I just know you’re going to be a whiz at this. Because you like to talk and tease. And Toby likes to listen to people talk and tease while he takes a bath.”
    “Ah, another one of those teacher-type pats on the back,” he said, allowing her to move beyond the “Colleen can’t have babies” topic. “I’m starting to like those.”
    And because she was starting to like a lot of things about Dillon, far too much, Colleen made herself get right to the task. Dillon talked to his son the whole time he was cleaning him up, but the excitement of having his two favorite people to himself at the same time was clearly too much. His arms flailed more than usual, and by the time they were through, both Colleen and Dillon had generous splashes of water dotting their clothes. Toby, of course, was adorable and dry in his little towel with the hood.
    “Thank you for the lesson. I think I’ve got the hang of it now, but you’d better go put on something dry.”
    “Oh, I’m okay,” she said. “I can handle a little water.”
    “Maybe so, but I’m not sure that I can, or that I can be trusted,” Dillon said, looking pointedly at her shirt where, she realized as she looked down, the outline of her bra was visible through the damp cloth.
    Her eyes opened wide. She crossed her arms over her chest. “You,” she said to Toby, “need to learn to bathe with more decorum and less splashing. You’ve embarrassed your daddy.” And she leaned forward