There she was, pushing him away again.

“Wouldn’t it be easier to go with you?” Chris asked.

“People will get the wrong idea.”

“So what? Eventually they’re going to know we had sex. You said it yourself. Showing up together makes it look as if there was more to it than a one-nighter. Unless there’s another reason why you don’t want me around?”

Lizzie blushed.

“Is there another reason, Lizzie?”

“Like what?” She lifted her chin and he saw the spark of defiance in her eyes. He liked it. Liked her when she got a little fired up. She’d been this way before, too. A little on edge. Exciting.

He moved closer, saw her pupils widen, and that’s when he knew. The cool, calm demeanor wasn’t completely real. Oh, he had no doubt that she wanted it to be, but it wasn’t. Another step put him directly in front of her, close enough that he could smell the light floral scent of her shampoo, see the way her pulse beat heavily at her throat.

“What are you doing?” she whispered.

“Shh,” he ordered as he contemplated his next move.

The Texan’s Baby

Donna Alward

www.millsandboon.co.uk

A busy wife and mother of three (two daughters and the family dog), DONNA ALWARD believes hers is the best job in the world: a combination of stay-at-home mom and romance novelist. An avid reader since childhood, Donna has always made up her own stories. She completed her arts degree in English literature in 1994, but it wasn’t until 2001 that she penned her first full-length novel and found herself hooked on writing romance. In 2006 she sold her first manuscript, and now writes warm, emotional stories for Mills & Boon.

In her new home office in Nova Scotia, Donna loves being back on the east coast of Canada after nearly twelve years in Alberta, where her career began, writing about cowboys and the West. Donna’s debut romance, Hired by the Cowboy, was awarded a Booksellers’ Best Award in 2008 for Best Traditional Romance.

With the Atlantic Ocean only minutes from her doorstep, Donna has found a fresh take on life and promises even more great romances in the near future!

Donna loves to hear from readers. You can contact her through her website, www.donnaalward.com, or follow @DonnaAlward on Twitter.

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Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Extract

Chapter One

Two minutes and thirty-three seconds to go.

Lizzie Baron stared at her watch with dismay. It had only been twenty-seven seconds since she started the timer on her watch. She refused to look until the full three minutes was up. Instead she checked her reflection in the mirror of the executive bathroom of the Baron Energies offices. She brushed a flake of mascara off the crest of her cheek and tucked a strand of rebellious hair behind her ear. She smoothed her skirt—a straight, businesslike skirt in boring charcoal-gray that ended just a shade above her knee, and checked the buttons of her matching fitted jacket for stray threads.

Perfect.

One minute, seventeen seconds.

Three minutes had never, ever in the history of the world, been this long. She was sure of it.

Her stomach churned uneasily but she told herself it was just nerves. Stress. She worked long hours at her job and didn’t get much downtime. Everyone at Baron was on edge since they had recently lost a major contract in the Gulf. The tension level in the downtown Dallas office could be cut with a knife most days. Stress could definitely have caused her period to be late, right?

Except, a little voice inside her head reminded her, your period was due before that particular piece of bad news, remember?

Twenty-six seconds.

She breathed in and out. She was not pregnant. It wasn’t possible. Well, it was. Technically. But highly improbable. She didn’t have time for this. And a one-night stand with a rodeo bum...well, how often did people get pregnant from one night?

She smiled grimly at the reflection of her face, her skin oddly pale under the unflattering fluorescent lighting. The answer to that was simple. It always only took one time for someone to get pregnant. Granted, the chances went up with frequency of... She swallowed. They hadn’t exactly slept a lot that night.

Zero seconds.

Lizzie took a deep breath. Putting off looking wouldn’t change the result. She reached for the stick and stared at the little window.

A plus sign.

She was pregnant.

Just flipping wonderful.

* * *

LIZZIE GOT OUT of her car, blinking in the brightness of the San Antonio sun. She’d used the almost four-hour drive to prepare, to work out what she was going to say. The first thing she’d done after taking the home test was visit the doctor, where her pregnancy had been confirmed. Lizzie hadn’t wanted to say anything to anyone until she was 100 percent sure the first test hadn’t been a false positive. Her mind was still reeling with the news, and she was trying to sort out how she was going to tell her family....

They were going to seriously freak. And be disappointed. Who, in this day and age, went around having sex with strangers? She bit down on her lip. She was a joke. A statistic. A casualty of the 1 percent of condoms that failed at a crucial moment.

She’d always felt like the responsible one. When Delia Baron left her kids, Brock had been on his own, and Lizzie had stepped in and mothered her younger siblings. Then her dad had married Peggy and adopted her boys, Jacob and Daniel. Those years had been pretty good. They’d all lived together out at Roughneck Ranch—the name a deliberate hat-tip to the oil industry that had put the Baron name on the map. Lizzie had cared for Peggy a lot, which meant Peggy’s death had been especially hard to take.

Now her father was married again, this time to a much younger wife. Lizzie might have resented Julieta, who was only ten years older than herself, except Lizzie had found an unexpected friend and support in her stepmother.

Telling her would probably be the easiest of the family. Julieta never judged. She was always after Lizzie to get out and enjoy life more. Lizzie was fairly sure, though, that this wasn’t what Julieta meant.

For one night only she’d allowed herself to cut loose. What a fool she’d been for thinking she could work out her frustrations by being so self-indulgent, that she could be irresponsible without repercussions and consequences. It was totally out of character.

But sometimes she felt as though she was the one who took on all the heavy lifting in the family, was the rock for all her brothers and sisters when they went through stuff. She was tired of being Lizzie who never made mistakes, Lizzie who did everything right. Lizzie, Brock Baron’s firstborn.

Yeah, Jacob was pretty much the same age as she was, but he was her stepbrother. Lizzie was the oldest and her brother Jet was the baby. Sometimes she wished they were reversed in the birth order, because Brock wouldn’t give up the idea that Jet would take over Baron Energies one day. Problem was Jet wasn’t remotely interested.

Lizzie, on the other hand, had missed out on her fun years because she had been too busy getting her education and stepping into a role at the family company. She was supposed to set an example.

It was a lot of pressure.

Lizzie sighed and shut the car door, feeling the heat of the sun soak through her tailored jacket. What she really needed was a coffee. A nice, big, strong coffee with two sugars and real cream. Sadly, since the moment the test was positive, she’d given up the caffeine and cut back on the sugar. The result had been three days of caffeine withdrawal headache and irritability.

And through it all one thought had stuck in her brain. Lizzie needed to talk to him. The baby’s father.

There was no question about that. Christopher Miller deserved to know the truth and deserved to hear it from her—not from anyone else. What if the media got a hold of the story? They’d been quick to report the lost contract in the biz pages, and she already felt extra scrutiny from all sides as she sat at the boardroom table. Only thirty and vice president of a major energy corporation—not to mention being the boss’s daughter. The old boys’ club was just waiting for her to screw up.

Besides, it wasn’t like she was going to be able to hide her condition forever. She was already almost eight weeks along. Another couple months and she’d be showing. It would be far better to do damage control right now and get on with things.

She looked up at the attractive stucco condos and wished there was a way to make this look like less of a disaster. But no matter how she spun it, the bald truth remained. She’d been stupid. Impulsive. She’d let the family down—especially her dad. She knew how it would look to the shareholders and the press.

Mark Baker, Baron’s CFO, would practically be crowing about it. He was dying to get his chance to be in the driver’s seat at Baron, urging Brock to retire. It burned her biscuits that he might have any leverage on her, the pompous jerk.

Her headache was starting to come back, so she made her way over to one of the low stone walls by the building where there was some shade under a sycamore tree. All she had to do was remember her plan. Plans were good. Plans were soothing. Plans gave the illusion of control in the midst of chaos.

She gathered herself together and walked purposefully to the front door of the building, stepping into a blessedly cool air-conditioned foyer. The second set of doors was locked for security, so she scanned the panel of residents for his name. There it was—C. Miller, unit 406. She pressed the buzzer and waited.

As the seconds ticked past, she looked around. The complex was quite nice. The buildings were well kept, the grass cut neatly and urns of flowering plants flanked the entrance. It was definitely not what she’d expected from the dusty bronc rider she’d met two months ago. He wasn’t that high up in the standings, either, so how on earth did he afford this place? Momentarily she wondered if she’d gotten the wrong Christopher Miller. What if she’d come all this way for nothing?

There was a click and then a voice. “Hello?”

Something stirred inside her at the sound of his voice. It was just one word but it was familiar—the low grit of it skimming over her nerve endings. She swallowed. “Uh...hi. I’m looking for Christopher Miller?”

“That’s me.”

“It’s...uh...” She scrambled to think of what she’d said to him that night. How much she’d revealed. Plans, she reminded herself. Just stick to the script. “It’s Elizabeth.”

There was a pause.

“From the bar in Fort Worth.”

The words came out strained.

“Come on up. Elevator’s through the doors and to the left.”

There was a click—and a buzzing sound as he let her in.

She pulled open the door and stepped inside. The tiled floor of the lobby gleamed as if freshly waxed and potted trees were spaced throughout the small area. There was a small table flanked by two chairs to the right, adding a homey yet classy touch. An elevator waited and she pushed the up arrow button. Seconds later the door opened and she stepped inside the car.

She could do this. She could see him and speak to him in a businesslike way and explain what she intended to do. She didn’t need anything from him. Didn’t want anything from him. He was completely and utterly off the hook.

The doors slid open at the fourth floor and she ran her hands down her skirt and then over her hair, making sure the knot at the back was smooth and neat. Stepping out, she started down the hallway. Number 401 was on the left, 402 on the right. Two more doors to go. She would knock. Smile. Begin with “you must be surprised to see me...”

A door opened and Christopher stepped into the hall. Her feet halted and she stared at him awkwardly, her practiced words flying out of her head. She’d definitely gotten the right guy. Around six feet, with dark hair that curled around his collar and gorgeous chocolaty eyes that crinkled in the corners. He wore jeans and a T-shirt but was in his bare feet, and his hair was glistening, as though he’d recently got out of the shower. Oh boy.

He was staring at her, too, like she was a stranger. “It really is you,” he said, shaking his head a little. A wrinkle formed between his eyebrows. “What the hell are you doing here?”

* * *

FOR WEEKS, CHRIS had been wondering if he should try to find out who she was. She’d only said her name was Elizabeth. They’d met at a honky-tonk in Fort Worth after a less-than-stellar rodeo performance on his part. She’d been sitting at the bar, sipping a beer right from the bottle. His first impression had been surprise. Despite wearing jeans and boots and a T-shirt, there was a look of class about her. She looked more the wine-and-cheese type rather than beer and chips.

He’d had a good first round that weekend, but then he’d drawn Devil’s Spawn. The horse was aptly named, it turned out, because Chris had been launched into the stratosphere in the second round after 4.6 seconds. He’d missed out on the money. No buckle bunnies had followed him to the bar and that had been just fine with him. He’d figured he’d nurse his wounds with a beer and head back to the motel where he was staying. Take a hot bath to soothe his sore muscles.

And then he’d seen her. He’d ordered another beer, looked over at her and she’d smiled, a soft little smile, and all his brain cells turned to mush.

When he’d woken the next morning, the bed had been empty. The only evidence that she’d been there was the earring she’d left behind. How very cliché.

That had been nearly two months ago. Since then he’d done better, hitting the finals in a few rodeos, bringing in a little cash to help cover his expenses. It wasn’t like this was his livelihood or anything. He was only on a leave of absence from his regular job. A job which had suddenly felt very claustrophobic after years of long hours. He missed the outdoors, missed the horses and the thrill. Missed having fun.

This leave of absence was his one last chance. Not that he expected to earn any titles. He’d been out too long and he was getting older. Another few years and he wouldn’t be quite so resilient. If he were going to relive his youth one last time, it had to be now...before he lost his nerve. So he’d have no regrets. One last chance to live the life he wanted rather than the one that was expected of him.

Now she was here, standing not ten feet away. Forget the jeans and boots, too. She was the picture of elegance and power, moderately tall and slim, and wore her dark hair up in a conservative knot rather than the long, sexy ponytail he remembered. A great pair of legs was shown to excellent advantage in a slim skirt and sexy black heels. Buckle bunny? Not in a million years. The woman before him now was used to being in charge. If it weren’t for the stunning blue eyes, she’d barely resemble the woman he remembered from the motel that night.

Something curled through him and his pulse took a strange hop as an image flashed through his mind. Her hair had been down, spread over the pillow and her smile had been sexy and more than a little naughty as she reached up and grabbed the collar of his shirt, pulling him down on top of her. What the hell was she doing in San Antonio now, looking like she did?

“Elizabeth,” he said quietly, stepping aside so she could enter his apartment. He didn’t have a good feeling about her showing up unannounced.

“Call me Lizzie.” She gave him a faint smile and slid into the apartment ahead of him, taking care not to touch him in any way, he noticed. “Everybody does.”

“You didn’t say your name was Lizzie the night we met.” He followed her inside and shut the door. She looked at him nervously, pulling her hands together.

“I was trying to be mysterious.”

“It worked.” He put his hands in his pockets. “How did you find me?”

Was that a bit of color in her pale cheeks? Her gaze skittered away slightly and her fingers twisted tighter together. “I tried 411 first, but there are over one hundred Christopher Millers in the state of Texas.”

He waited for her to go on.

She frowned. “So then I tried Google. I entered your name and added ‘+ saddle bronc’ to the search. San Antonio popped up. But there’s more than one Christopher Miller here, too. So I called a friend of mine, called in a favor, and they gave me your address.”

“A friend?”

“Yeah.” She tried a small smile. “Rodeo’s a small world. Which was why I was surprised that I’d never heard of you before.”

His hands came out of his pockets. “You’re saying that you got my address from rodeo records?”

The blush was back. “Yes.”

He wasn’t sure if that information was guaranteed to be confidential or not; he’d never considered it either way. But Elizabeth—Lizzie—had gone to some trouble to find him. He was pretty sure the reason wasn’t going to be a good thing. She didn’t look like she was the type to come out with “I couldn’t forget our night together.”

That sounded snide in his mind and more than a little hypocritical, since he hadn’t been able to forget that night one bit. And if he’d had more to go on than a first name, he might have gone looking for her, too.

“Why would you do that?”

She straightened her shoulders and unclenched her hands. “Because I need to talk to you.”

Quiet settled through the condo. This was so bizarre. Not what he expected in the middle of the day. Hell, he was only in town today to do some laundry and pack his duffel before heading back out to his mom and dad’s. She was lucky to have caught him.

She definitely hadn’t shown up bent on seduction. Everything about her screamed hands off. Just his bad luck he found that crazy sexy. Not that he planned on trying anything, but her tidy suit and librarian hair fanned the flames of a few latent fantasies all right.

“Why don’t you have a seat? Can I get you something to drink?”

“Just water, thank you.” He watched shapely calves and the gentle sway of her hips as she went to an armchair and sat down. A seat for one, he noticed. Not on the sofa where he might have sat beside her.

He got a glass from a cupboard and added crushed ice and water from the fridge dispenser. When he handed it to her, he noticed her hand was shaking. Whatever she wanted to tell him, she was nervous. Afraid.

And it hit him upside the head. The difference in her appearance. The first name only, the disappearing in the morning. It was all too cliché for it to be the first time she’d done this. God, was she here to tell him he needed to be tested for something? Go get antibiotics? He told himself to relax. They’d used protection after all.

He sat across from her and decided to just ask rather than dance around the topic. “Look, do I need to be tested for an STD or something? Is that why you’re here?”

Her eyes widened and she choked on the water, coughing uncontrollably and he reached out, calmly removed the glass from her hand, and waited for the paroxysms to stop. When they finally did, her eyes had watered and there was an angry set to her lips.

“What the hell would give you that idea?”

“I don’t know!” This whole situation was strange and surreal. “Hey, you’re the one who disappeared before I got up and only gave me your first name. Now you show up weeks later, looking completely different and say you need to talk to me. If it’s not an STD, what the hell...”

His mouth dropped open.

Her gaze slid to the floor.

“No,” he whispered harshly. “No, it isn’t possible. We used condoms.”

She looked up, misery etched in every feature. “I assure you it is possible,” she replied, reaching into her purse and withdrawing the positive test as proof. “I’m pregnant, and the baby’s yours.”

Chapter Two

His reaction was exactly what she’d expected, so why was she so disappointed?

“I was just as surprised as you,” she murmured, twisting her fingers together as she looked up into his face. “This was so not in my plans right now.”

“Or mine.”

It would help if he didn’t look so perfectly devastated. She had a sudden horrible thought. “God, you’re not married, are you?”

He did laugh a little then, a huff of laughter that wasn’t completely amused, but clearly the idea of being married was ridiculous. “No, not married. You can relax about that.” He frowned. “And if I were, I wouldn’t be cruising bars looking for some action.”

Heat rose to her cheeks. “I didn’t mean to insinuate...”

Chris sighed heavily. “Look, let’s just cut to the chase. We’re both single. We hooked up one night and something went wrong. Is that accurate? Assuming you’re not married, of course. Or using me to be your baby daddy.”

“What?” She leapt up, putting her hands on her hips. “Of course I’m not! What a joke!”

His expression darkened further. “So now I’m a joke?”

Lizzie took a deep breath and closed her eyes. “This is going all wrong.” She gathered her thoughts and tried again. “Why don’t we start at the beginning,” she suggested. “Hi, I’m Lizzie Baron.” She held out her hand.

“Lizzie Baron?” Now Chris stood up and stared at her as though she’d grown an extra head. “Like the Baron Energies Barons?”

She nodded, dropping the hand that he’d never shaken.

“Like Jacob and Jet’s sister?”

She nodded.

“Which is why you were at the rodeo.”

She nodded again. “I try to support my family, especially during local events.”

“Drinking alone is a funny way to show your support.”

Her lips twisted. Christopher Miller was a little too astute for her liking. She and her brothers didn’t always see eye to eye. Jacob wanted to take on a bigger role at Baron, and she even agreed with him. But Brock had other ideas. Jacob kept putting pressure on her to help his cause but it wasn’t that easy. Changing her father’s mind was impossible once he’d made it up.

That particular weekend Jacob had nagged at her again and she’d gone to the bar to blow off some steam rather than argue. Chris had been there, all long legs and dark hair and rugged smiles. The perfect distraction.

“A girl can’t go get a beer once in a while?”

He smiled then. “True enough.” The smile faded. “You’re really one of the Barons? And you’re pregnant?”

“I’m afraid so. On both counts.” She sighed. “Can we sit down again?”

“Sure.” He gestured with his hand and she sat, then he followed suit. Manners, she realized, and was slightly encouraged.

Lizzie reached for her water again and took a sip, buying time to put her thoughts back together. “You deserved to hear it first,” she said quietly. “Before I tell anyone else. I don’t expect anything from you, Christopher, that’s not why I came. I’m fully capable of supporting this baby on my own. This mistake doesn’t have to be a big deal for you, okay? I certainly don’t need child support or anything.”

He raised one eyebrow. “I suppose you want me to sign away parental rights, too? No sign or trace of the rodeo bum, no stain on the great Baron name, right?”

Again her cheeks heated. “I didn’t mean that at all! I just meant to say that I’m not here to... God, how do I put this? I’m not after anything from you. That’s all. I’m handling it.”

“Handling it.” Chris put his hands on his knees and angled her a sharp look. “Does that mean you’re taking care of it? Or am I reading that wrong?”

Taking care of it. She knew exactly what he meant. He was asking if she was going to terminate the pregnancy. “And would you care if I did?”

She was holding her breath as she waited for his answer. He met her gaze evenly.

“I would care,” he finally said softly. “I’ve never really thought about it before, but it’s not easy, is it? Theoretically I understand the right to choose. But when I think about this baby being part of me...” His gaze dropped to her stomach and back up. “I find I care very much, Lizzie.”

It might have been easier if he didn’t. If he were a bit more of a jerk, to be honest. Instead, even in his shock, he was remarkably level.

“Maybe you don’t need help,” he continued, “but it’s here for you regardless. I always own up to my responsibilities.”

Something warm slid through her at his gentle and very unexpected words. “How can you say that when you’ve just found out? We hardly know each other. I mean, it took me a couple of days to even wrap my mind around the idea of this. I’m still reeling.”

“There are some things you just know,” he said calmly. “And then you figure the rest out as you go along.”

She rested her palm on her tummy. Perhaps the most surprising thing of all was how protective she already felt towards her unborn child. The pregnancy was going to cause massive problems in both her professional and personal life. And yet there was something incredible about knowing that a tiny person resided inside her. It was frightening and it was awesome at the same time. In that moment, she forgot all about Baron Energies and Christopher Miller and anything else. Nothing was more important than this baby and making the right choices.

Her baby. She was no longer simply Lizzie Baron.

She was a mom.

It scared her to death.

There was a strange buzzing sound in the silence, followed by a series of chimes coming from the area around Lizzie’s feet. She suddenly realized it was her cell, and the ringtone was the one she used for family, not work. “Excuse me just a moment,” she said, reaching down and searching blindly in her bag.

The caller ID showed her stepmother Julieta’s name, so she clicked the answer button. It only took a few short sentences for the blood to drain from her face.

“I’m glad I reached you,” Julieta said, and Lizzie heard strain in her voice. “It’s your dad, Lizzie. He got thrown and he’s hurt.”

Oh, hell. Brock Baron had always thought himself a bit indestructible, and persisted in competing in seniors’ rodeos even though he was getting older. Lizzie closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose. “How bad is it?”

“A badly broken leg, maybe a concussion, and they’re checking his ribs for breaks, but he hasn’t regained consciousness yet. Stupid, stupid man!”

Lizzie could hear the worry in Julieta’s voice and she clutched the phone tightly, pressing it against her ear. “I’m not in Dallas at the moment,” she said, and she heard the wobble in her voice, too. Damn it. Now was not the time to fall apart. Not that there was ever a good time. Her mind started to spin out of control as the ramifications of the call sank in, and she forced herself to deal with the crisis of the moment and not what lay ahead. “I can be there in a few hours, though. What about the rest of the family?”

“The boys are here, Savannah’s coming right from the ranch, and Carly’s on her way.”

“Good, then you’re not alone. I’ll call you when I’m close, okay? And give him my love. Hang in there, Julieta.”

She hung up the phone, dropped it in her bag and faced Chris again. “I’m sorry to cut this short. I know we have things to talk about, but I have to get back to Dallas right away.”

His brows pulled together in concern. “Is everything okay?”

“Not really.” Her voice wobbled and she cleared her throat. “My dad was in an accident. Far as we can tell, he’s got a broken leg, but he’s still unconscious and they’re thinking he also has a concussion.”

“Oh, my God. What happened?”

She shook her head, still not quite believing how full of himself her dad could be from time to time. His age and he still thought he was invincible. “He was competing. The events kicked off this morning. First round and he got thrown.”

They both knew what could happen in the arena. “Of course you have to go. I understand.”

She handed over a card from her wallet. “This is me, at Baron Energies. You can contact me there, okay? I don’t want to tell the family about the baby yet. Especially now, when my dad...”

Her voice broke. Brock Baron was a crusty old bugger but he was her daddy and she still idolized him, faults and all. She stood up and suddenly her head felt light.

“Hey, Eliz...Lizzie, are you okay? You’re white as a sheet.”

She nodded and mustered up a smile. “I forgot to eat lunch is all, and got a bit light-headed.” Which was a complete lie—she’d thrown up her breakfast and then by noon had been ravenous, wolfing down a bacon cheeseburger like a linebacker. Something about the red meat particularly appealed right now. But that was hours ago.

“I don’t think you should be driving all that way by yourself. You’re upset. Let me drive you.”

She clutched the handle of her bag. “And throw you into the mix with my family? Not a chance.”

“You can argue with me and waste time or you can say ‘yes, Christopher’ in that formal voice of yours and we can be on the highway in five minutes.”

“I’m fine.”

He raised an eyebrow.

Who knew the man could be so stubborn? “You can’t order me around.” She reached in the bag and found her keys, looping them around her finger. “And don’t even try forcing my hand by bringing this secret into it.”

Chris went up to her then, close enough she could see the little gold flecks in his rich brown eyes. Close enough she could smell his aftershave and close enough she could reach out and touch his strong chest if she wanted to.

Which she didn’t. But if she did...

“Of course I’ll do no such thing. But I will appeal to your common sense. I want you to be safe. The last thing your family needs is more bad news because you drove too fast or were distracted.”

She was plenty distracted at the moment. Currently she was staring at his lips and remembering one glorious night in a discount motel room...

“If we take my car, how will you get back here?”

“I’ll take the bus. Seriously, it’s not that big a deal. I don’t have any competitions this weekend. I was just going to go out to my folks’ place and I can call and tell them I’ll be a day or so late.”

He put his hand along the side of her face, making the skin there tingle. “You’re pale,” he said softly. “And considering the news you shared with me today...”

“You should be running in the other direction.”

“No, I shouldn’t. Let me make sure you get to the hospital in one piece, okay? Besides, it gives us a chance to talk about all the things we need to on the way.”

That actually made sense. Plus it would keep her mind off Brock and give her company for the drive—even if it was Chris.

“Okay. Can we get going though? I don’t want to waste more time arguing.”

He smiled then, and her heart gave a strange thump at the sight. It was the first time he’d truly smiled since she’d arrived, she realized. And she remembered why she’d fallen under his spell in the first place. Chris Miller was more than just handsome. He was...magnetic. She’d have to be careful to keep things totally platonic. There could be no romantic complications as they moved forward with her plans for the baby.

“We’ll take my car. If I remember right, it’s more comfortable than your truck.”

“Deal.” He put out his hand for the keys.

Reluctantly she gave them to him, and followed him out the door. They went down the elevator and through the foyer and out into the bright Texas sun, which seemed exceptionally warm for March. She squinted and pointed toward her car, but Chris just pushed the unlock button and found her vehicle when the lights flashed on.

“A Mercedes. Nice ride.”

“It’s a company car.”

Which was strictly true. One of the perks of being a VP. Not that she was complaining...

He got behind the wheel and adjusted the mirrors and before she could exhale a deep breath he was pulling out of the parking lot. They were on their way to the highway when he pulled into a strip mall and zoomed into a drive-through. “What are you doing?”

“You looked like you were going to pass out back there. Let’s get you something to eat, okay? You can eat while I drive.”

She should protest, say they were wasting time, but the truth was she was hungry and she knew from bitter experience the last week or so that if she let herself get too famished, she got ill. “Just a roast beef sandwich and a milk for me, please.”

He pulled up to the window and ordered two sandwiches, a milk and a Coke. She took out a twenty to pay for the meal, but he gave her a long stare and levered his hip, reaching for his wallet in his back pocket. “I think I can buy my kid a sandwich,” he said quietly, taking out a couple of bills and handing them to the teenager at the window in exchange for the food.

She put her money away. So the man had his pride after all.

He didn’t waste any time getting to the highway, headed toward Dallas and her family. It was strange seeing someone else in the driver’s seat of her car, and surreal to think that he was the father of the baby growing inside her. None of it felt like it was truly possible; rather the situation was like a weird dream and she’d wake up with a great sense of relief. But it wasn’t. She’d made a mistake. And now she had to deal with it, the way she’d always dealt with changing situations in her life. With logic.

The sandwich was delicious, a bit warm with tangy mustard and lettuce and tomato and she ate neatly, self-conscious the whole time. While she drank from her carton of milk, Chris manhandled his sandwich with one hand while driving and when the first half was gone, he reached for his soda and took a long pull. “Feel better?” he asked, looking over at her.

“I do, thank you.” She tried a smile. She hadn’t realized how hungry she was until she started eating. “You were right. I needed some fuel. Especially since I don’t know when I’ll eat again once I get to the hospital.”

“You’re close with your family?” He glanced over at her and then back at the road again.

“Mostly.” It was a complicated question. “My mom left when we were pretty small—me and Savannah and Carly and Jet. When my dad remarried, he adopted Peggy’s boys, Jacob and Daniel. Then Peggy died.... I think we’re the new ‘typical’ American family.” She smiled. “Blended a couple of times. Dad’s current wife has a five-year-old son from a previous relationship. We get along pretty well—considering. Even though we’ve all grown, things are still centered out at the ranch. We’ve got the farm and Dad built the ring for rodeo training.”

Chris nodded. “I don’t come from a big family like that. Only child.”

“Trouble sharing?” She grinned at him and he laughed a little.

“Not so much. Just a bit of pressure is all. All the expectations on the shoulders of one kid, you know?”

“That’s not necessarily untrue in a big family. I’ve always felt like more was expected of me because I’m oldest. Even though Jacob and Daniel are pretty close to me in age, there was a difference as we grew up.” She didn’t say that it was partly because Brock treated the adopted boys just a little differently. She couldn’t prove it, after all. And yet she was sure the boys sensed it just the same.

She put her head back against the seat rest. “Anyway, you know quite a bit about me now. How about you?”

His fingers gripped the wheel. “Not much to say, really. I grew up outside the city, had a pretty normal childhood. My dad was foreman on a ranch and the owner got me into rodeo.”

“I saw that you were a junior champ a long time ago, but then it’s like you dropped off the earth. Where’ve you been in the meantime? With rodeo being big in our family, I’m sure I would have heard your name before.”

She wasn’t sure why or if she’d touched a nerve, but Chris’s jaw tightened. “I quit for a while.”

“Injury?” Curious, she studied his profile.

“Obligations,” he responded cryptically.

She let that sit for a few minutes, wondering if he’d expand on that terse statement. When he didn’t, she asked. “What sort of obligations?”

“Does it matter?”

She nodded. “If I’m keeping this baby, and you’re determined to do your duty, then we’re going to be tied to each other for a very long time. I’d like to know what sort of guy is going to be my child’s father, that’s all.”

His jaw ticked, but after a few moments he relented. “Look, my parents scrimped and saved to put me through university. No one else in my family had ever gone past high school. I took engineering at A&M and I’ve been working ever since. Until this year, I was an engineer at AB Windpower.”

“Really? That’s cool. I don’t know a lot about them, but I’ve seen some write-ups about some of their energy initiatives. It’s neat stuff. So why’d you leave?”

“This year is just a leave of absence.”

“Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why the leave of absence?” She turned in the seat a little, tucking her left foot under her right leg and adjusting the seat belt on her shoulder.

“I missed competing,” he said simply. “I’ve been working long hours for years now, cooped up inside for the most part. I wanted one year. Just one, to do what I wanted to do. To have some fun. So I asked my boss for a leave and I got it.”

“You don’t like being an engineer?”

“It’s not that. Or at least... Hell, it’s complicated.”

Lizzie wasn’t sure what to think about that. She had one brother who seemed allergic to responsibility and there were lots of times she’d had the thought that he needed to grow up. For some reason it had been easier to accept that Chris was a bronc rider when she didn’t know he had a perfectly good, respectable career that he’d abandoned for a “year of fun.” Then there was the fact that she, apparently, was part of that year of irresponsibility.

“It’s always complicated,” she responded, feeling the comment was a bit useless but not knowing what else to say.

The resulting silence was awkward. Lizzie had thought company for the drive would be good, but hadn’t thought about how awkward it could be being shut up in a car for hours with no escape. Thankfully it was only a few minutes and Lizzie’s phone rang again. Rather than put it through the Bluetooth, she took it from her purse and answered it. She’d rather not have family business on speaker.

“Lizzie, it’s Julieta. I wanted to give you an update.”

Lizzie’s stomach tightened nervously. “Is he okay?”

“Your father’s just gone into surgery for his leg. The concussion seems minor, no bleeding or anything so they decided to go ahead.”

“I’m getting there as fast as I can.”

“Just get here safely. He’ll be in surgery for a few hours yet.”

“Thanks.”

“Ask at the desk at Emergency and they should be able to tell you where we are, okay?”

“Sounds good.” Lizzie hesitated and then felt the need to ask. “Does anyone need anything?”

Julieta’s voice was warm over the line. “We’re fine. You don’t need to look after us, Lizzie. Now drive safe and we’ll see you soon.”

Lizzie hung up, knowing she’d had the perfect opportunity to say she wasn’t alone but for some reason hadn’t. She didn’t want Chris to be a dirty little secret, but in her mind he was. She was going to have to get over that. Her family was going to find out sometime. Hiding Chris in a closet wasn’t going to help anything.

“Anything wrong?” Chris asked, his voice concerned.

“They’ve taken my father into surgery.” She frowned. “I know Julieta didn’t say it, but he’s not a spring chicken anymore. I’m worried about how hard this is going to be on his body.”

“From everything I’ve heard, he’s in great shape. I’m sure he’ll be fine.” Chris smiled encouragingly.

“I hope you’re right,” she said, sighing and leaning her head against the window.

He reached over and patted her leg, once, twice, and then put his hand back on the wheel.

But the gesture had given her more comfort than she’d expected, and when she closed her eyes she could see him standing before her in his apartment, claiming that he was going to take responsibility for their child. And as her breathing deepened, she pictured him as he’d been not even two months ago, his dark gaze boring into hers as they made love in the lamplight of the motel. The night her baby had been conceived...

* * *

CHRIS LOOKED OVER at Lizzie and frowned. She looked so peaceful now that she was sleeping, the lines of stress gone from her eyes and her lips slightly open as she took slow breaths.

Pregnant. Once he’d heard the word and absorbed the initial shock of the news, he’d done a pretty good job of holding it together. Of saying the right things. But that was nothing more than reaction in the very simplest terms. It was done and couldn’t be changed. And it went without saying that he’d step up and do what was right. It was how he’d been raised.

But now that the reality was sinking in, he was freaking out a bit. A father! Sure, he’d have several months to get used to the idea, but it didn’t alter the fact that his life was going to change. He was going to be tied to Lizzie Baron...forever.

A delicate snore came from the passenger seat and he looked over, unable to stop the wave of tenderness that washed over him. Maybe he was freaking out but he wasn’t oblivious to the fact that she was facing the greatest changes right now. Heck, she’d turned a strange shade of whitish-green earlier and had needed to eat, and now she was sound asleep in the middle of the afternoon. He’d been right to drive her back to Dallas.

One night. One single night he hadn’t been able to resist the temptation of her. One night when careful hadn’t been careful enough...and now he could see his one year of freedom slipping further and further away.

She was beautiful. She’d been fair with him today and she was going to be the mother of his child. What a thing to have to wrap his head around.

But as he thought about his plans and how they’d suddenly been rendered irrelevant, he couldn’t help but resent her just a little bit.

Chapter Three

Lizzie opened her eyes, instinctively putting her hand to the muscles in her neck that had tightened from the awkward angle in which she’d slept. A quick check showed they were nearly at the city limits. It wouldn’t be long now and they’d be at the hospital. Good heavens, how long had she slept?

“Feel better?”

Chris’s voice came from beside her and she turned her attention away from the view out the window. “I do. I didn’t realize how tired I was.”

“You probably work pretty long hours.”

She snorted a little. Pretty long? Twelve-hour days were the norm. Her heart caught a little. What would happen now if her dad couldn’t resume his place at Baron? There’s no way she wanted Mark Baker at the helm. He was younger and a real go-getter, but he was also a part of that boys’ club that made her feel as if she was going to get a pat on the head rather than the respect she’d earned. Especially since he seemed to hold a bit of a grudge where she was concerned.

Baron Energies should have a Baron at the head of the table. And the only Baron on the board right now was her.

And she was pregnant.

What a mess.

“My hours are probably about to get longer, with Dad away from the office for a while. Hopefully it’ll just be a few weeks.”

Hopefully.

“So when are you planning on telling them?”

Right, there was that, too. “I want my dad to let me run Baron while he’s out of the office. If I tell him I’m pregnant...there’s no way he’ll agree.” She sighed, looked over at Chris and wondered if they were becoming friends now, what with all this confiding. It seemed ludicrous. “This will be the first grandchild. I’m the oldest. He’s a bit old school. I’ll be fighting him tooth and nail even if I stay in my current position.”

“So not for a while, then.”

“Are you kidding? Add to that the fact that I’m single, and it’s going to be one stressful conversation.”

Single. Because they had had a one-night stand, not a relationship.

Could things be in a bigger mess?

“Is there anything I can do to help?”

She laughed a little. “Rewind eight weeks and not walk into the bar?”

And then she felt instantly sorry she’d said it. That wasn’t fair. She’d been as willing a participant as he had. “Sorry,” she murmured, looking away. “You’re not to blame.”

“Clearly I’m half to blame,” he returned, slowing down to take an exit, but she could sense he was annoyed.

“You said you’re going to take a bus back to San Antonio?”

“It makes the most sense.”

“Maybe one of the boys can run you to the station.”

“Wouldn’t that require an explanation?”

Damn it. And yet asking him to walk or take public transit seemed cold. Like she was...ashamed. Determined to keep him out of sight, and that didn’t sit well with her. She wasn’t brought up to sneak around. Besides, he’d given up hours of his day to drive her here when he didn’t have to.

Traffic slowed as they neared the city center and Lizzie tapped her fingers on her knee. At some point her family would meet Chris. Heck, Jacob and Jet already knew him, at least a little. What if he came inside rather than being pushed aside, invisible? She had a sudden flash of inspiration. What if Lizzie could bring the family around to this gradually, so it wasn’t such a shock?

“I was thinking...rather than disappear to the station, maybe you’d like to come in? Just because we show up together doesn’t mean we have to tell my family everything, does it?”

He stopped at a traffic light and looked over at her, his dark eyes piercing. “You’re scheming, aren’t you?”

She tried a small smile. “Not scheming, planning. Planning is what I do best. I get fewer surprises that way.”

Lizzie wasn’t a fan of surprises. Several had come her way over the years that she couldn’t control, but she tried to keep them to a minimum in her own life. Now that she was pregnant, she realized she hadn’t done such a stellar job.

“What if I introduce you and just, I don’t know, say that we were together when I got the call and you offered to drive?”

“Together? In San Antonio?”

She bit down on her lip. “Oh. Right. Well, we could always say that we’ve been seeing each other a little, but we weren’t saying anything because it was early days.”

“You mean lie.”

“It’s not technically a lie. We have seen each other a little...”

“It’s deliberately misleading them, so yeah, in my books that’s a lie.”

The light changed and he moved through the intersection. On one hand, his stubborn stance annoyed her but on the other, she admired his honesty. “So what, you just want to walk in and say ‘hey, I’m Chris, and I knocked up Lizzie?’”

Now it was his turn to look perturbed. “I didn’t say that.”

“So what if they think we’ve been seeing each other? It’ll make breaking the news easier.”

“What you mean is it’ll make it look better, right? I mean, getting accidentally pregnant by your boyfriend looks marginally better than picking up some guy in a bar.”

“You don’t have to make it sound so crude.” Yes, they’d hooked up. But it hadn’t been... Lizzie swallowed thickly. That night it had seemed as though they’d known each other forever. He hadn’t felt like a stranger. Perhaps that’s why she’d truly let go with him. As much as she didn’t want to admit it, being beside him now caused the same sort of stirrings she’d felt that night. She wasn’t as immune as she’d like to pretend.

Chris pulled into the hospital parking lot. “Sorry. It wasn’t crude.” He slid the car into a vacant space and looked over at her. “It was awesome.”

And just like that the air in the car seemed to get heavier. Full of promise and caution all at the same time.

His gaze held hers for far too long as the engine idled. In the space of those moments, Lizzie recalled so many things about that night. The way he smiled, the warmth in his eyes, replaced by a heat so scorching she thought she might be singed by it as his hands touched her body. The sound of his voice in the dark, the low, rich chuckle in the shadows. How he’d opened his arms and let her curl up against him rather than looking for an escape route.

Chris Miller was no more the bad guy here than she was. And because of it she was compelled to agree with him. “You’re right,” she answered shyly. “It was awesome.”

Silence filled the car once more.

“Look,” she said quietly. “I’m not ready to come right out and tell everyone the news, especially now. I want to wait for the dust to settle. But I don’t want to treat you like some dirty little secret, either. I went to find you today to start us talking. To give us a chance to make some decisions before having to deal with my family. The Barons aren’t exactly...subtle.”

She undid her seat belt and turned in the seat until she was facing him completely. “Chris, when I go in there they’re going to ask questions anyway, about what I was doing over three hours away from Dallas on a workday. If I say I was taking care of some personal business they won’t let it drop. I was willing to face that before, but now I’m thinking...if we went in there together, maybe it wouldn’t be so bad for them to come to their own conclusions. It could buy us some time to figure this all out. Plus...”

Her voice faltered and she looked down at her hands. Her nails were precisely painted and beautifully manicured. Where had the outdoor-loving, ranch-riding girl gone? She was lost behind a power suit and a pair of heels.

“Plus what, Lizzie?”

She looked up again. “Plus it might be nice to not have to walk in there alone. I know Dad’s going to be okay, but I hate hospitals. Have ever since I was a little girl.”

Ever since her mother had been there when Jet was born. When Delia had come home, she hadn’t been the same mom who’d gone in to have her fourth baby. Lizzie had never forgotten that, and remembering it now made her grossly uncomfortable. She was about to become a mother, too. She was only a few weeks along and she couldn’t imagine ever abandoning her child the way her mother had abandoned them.

“Are you asking me to be your wingman?” He turned off the car and rested his hand on the steering wheel.

She turned her attention back to him, gratefully. “Would you mind? Add it to the list of crazy stuff to happen to you today.”

She was rewarded with another reluctant smile.

“Seriously, Chris. Then tomorrow we can worry about getting you back home.”

He blew out a breath. “This is turning out to be the strangest day,” he admitted, running a hand over his hair. “I’m still trying to come to grips with the fact that you’re...you’re having my baby.”

“I know. This wasn’t at all how I planned it would go.”

“Everything is going to change and you want me to waltz into the hospital as if we’re old pals.”

“I’m sorry....”

“Don’t be sorry. You’re probably right about there being fewer questions now rather than later when everyone isn’t preoccupied.”

“I’m sure everyone will be more focused on my dad than us anyway.”

“Then let’s go. Your family is probably wondering where you are.”

Lizzie called Julieta’s cell as they walked across the parking lot and into the building. They stopped at information and got the details about Brock and then proceeded to the surgical floor, where the rest of the Barons were congregated. Lizzie hesitated for a moment, staring through the doors at the collection of people—Julieta and her son, Alex, Lizzie’s younger sisters, Savannah and Carly, and then the boys—Jet and Jacob and Daniel. She pressed a hand to her stomach, suddenly afraid. She’d always tried to be the responsible one. How easy it would be for them to throw her mistake in her face once they found out how reckless she’d been.

Chris reached down and took her hand in his. It was warm and a bit rough and very, very comforting.

“You okay?”

She’d lived through their mother leaving. She’d lived through her stepmother dying and all the grief that had followed—for all of them. “I’ll be fine,” she replied. “Let’s go.”

But as they went through the door, she didn’t let go of his hand.

Savannah saw her first. “Lizzie! You’re finally here!” She came forward quickly, sparing Chris a curious glance before enveloping Lizzie in a hug.

“How is he?” Lizzie asked, stepping back. Savannah must have come right from the ranch store. She was still wearing her Peach Pit work shirt and jeans. “Any word?”

Julieta came forward, her normally perfect hairstyle slightly frayed around the edges, her eyes tired, and yet still incredibly beautiful. “He’s just out of surgery,” she said softly. “Still in recovery, so it’ll be a while before we can see him.”

“And everything went well?” Lizzie’s insides clenched at the thought of her father, her dynamic, energetic, blustery father lying motionless on a surgical table.

“As far as we know.” Julieta saw Chris standing just behind Lizzie and smiled at him. “Hello, I’m Julieta, Brock’s wife.” There was no mistaking the Spanish lilt to her voice.

Chris stepped forward and held out his hand. “Chris Miller, ma’am.”

“Chris was with me when you called,” Lizzie explained, her cheeks heating. “He drove me to the hospital.”

“How nice of you,” Julieta remarked, while Lizzie was aware of the rest of the family looking on.

“Long drive for someone who’s worried about their family,” he explained simply. “I was glad to do it.”

“Miller? Chris Miller, is that you?”

Lizzie saw Jet stepping forward, his face registering surprise. Of course they would know each other. Rodeo was really a small world when all was said and done.

“Jet.” Chris smiled again and held out his hand. “Good to see you. Sorry about your dad.”

The men clasped hands firmly. “You and Lizzie?” Jet looked between the two of them. “Since when?”

Lizzie stepped in, not trusting Chris to answer. “Since about eight weeks ago.” She could feel Chris’s gaze on her face and she refused to look at him.

“Eight weeks?” Jet’s lips dropped open. “Well, aren’t you the one for keeping secrets, Miss I’ll-Never-Date-A-Cowboy.” He winked at her.

Her brother was far too astute and far too charming for his own good. “I have a family who tends to make everything their business,” she said wryly. “Figured I’d better keep it under the Baron radar or else you’d tell him stories and scare him away. Besides, you’re the last person qualified to give me a dating lecture.” She raised an eyebrow at him. Jet never had any problem getting girls. He attracted them like bees to honey with his good looks and easy charm. He was a bit like their father that way. “Chris came for moral support,” she added.

She hoped God wasn’t about to strike her down with a bolt of lightning, the way the lies were tripping off her tongue with such ease. And she totally ignored what Jet said about not dating cowboys. She wasn’t exactly opposed to them, but if she didn’t say she was, her family would be trying to set her up left and right.

Chris didn’t say anything, to her great relief. But he did come closer and put his arm around her, resting his hand on her waist. The touch seared through her jacket to her skin.

For the next several minutes she caught up with Carly, who had also driven up from Houston, and her stepbrothers, Jacob and Daniel, who sat away from the rest of the family and chatted quietly, their elbows on their knees. Jacob and Daniel resembled each other heavily, from their dark hair and eyes to their body language. Chris knew Jacob from the circuit as well, and she was relieved because it eased the tension that always seemed to simmer just below the surface of the family. Julieta’s son, Alex, had fallen asleep curled up in a chair, but when he woke up he was out of sorts. The doctor had just come to speak to them though, and the sound of his whining was disconcerting.

“Hey, Alex, are you hungry?” Chris stepped forward and squatted down in front of the boy. “I haven’t had any dinner. How’s about you and me go to the cafeteria and see what they’ve got to eat?”

Alex’s brown eyes looked innocently into Chris’s. “I can’ts go with you ’cause you’re a stranger.”

Lizzie’s heart warmed as Chris smiled and looked to Julieta for backup.

Julieta excused herself for a moment and came to Alex’s side. “This is Chris, Alex. He came with Lizzie, and he’s okay. If you want to go to the cafeteria, you can. Maybe you can grab Mama something to eat, too, okay?”

“Can I have money?” he asked. “So I can pay all by myself?”

Lizzie tried not to smirk. The kid was learning early.

“Of course.” Julieta took a few bills out of her purse and gave them to Chris. “Chris will look after them for you, okay? And if you aren’t a good boy, he won’t let you pay for the food.” She gave him a stern look.

“Yes, Mama.”

“Ready?” Chris asked.

Alex nodded and Chris stood. Lizzie watched them head for the unit doors and her heart gave a strange thump against her ribs as Alex reached up and trustingly put his small hand in Chris’s.

The family turned their attention back to the doctor, who was explaining the procedure to put a rod in Brock’s leg, the plan for the next few days and the concerns they had for his recovery. Lizzie was disheartened to hear that recuperation could take from four to six months, especially for a man of Brock’s age. He was in general good health, which was in his favor, but with the added concussion, though minor, what he needed most right now was time and rest and once he was ready they’d start on rehab.

After he left, Julieta sat down, her face drawn, and Lizzie looked at Jet.

“Well, little brother, if you were ever going to reconsider going into the family business...”

Jet scowled. “I’m in the family business. Rodeo. On my own ranch, thanks.”

“That’s not what I meant and you know it.” She kept her voice low, not wanting the whole family to overhear her putting the screws to her brother. “Dad’s not going to be able to go into work for a while. You know he wants you as part of the business.”

“And you’re already a vice president. You’re the one to take the reins now, sis.”

She scoffed. “Right. Like the board is going to stand for that.”

“It will if Dad says so.”

“And will he? Because he’d rather it were you. I swear, if he puts Mark Baker in the driver’s seat I’ll resign. That man is impossible.”

“You won’t resign. You love that company as much as Dad does.”

She sighed. He was right. So what was she going to do? Run an entire energy company in between bouts of morning sickness and prenatal appointments?

She squared her shoulders. Well, why not? If she didn’t, she’d just prove every chauvinistic thing Mark Baker ever said absolutely true.

“You’re sure you won’t come aboard?”

Jet smiled his charming smile. “I’m sure you’ll do a great job, Liz. And I’ll tell Dad that, too, if it helps.”

“Yeah, thanks a lot,” she answered halfheartedly.

Jet disappeared after that, and she caught sight of him texting in a corner of the waiting room. She took a seat and slid off her heels, which were starting to hurt her feet. She leaned back and closed her eyes as exhaustion began to creep in. Maybe they’d soon be allowed to see Brock and then she could go home to her comfy apartment and bed....

“Lizzie?”

It was Jacob this time, looking incredibly earnest. She knew right away why he’d come to sit with her. While Jet couldn’t be convinced to take on a bigger role at Baron Energies, Jacob wanted one and Brock kept holding out.

“Hey,” she said tiredly.

“Looks like Dad’s going to be out of commission for a while. Do you think that puts you in charge?”

“I don’t know. Maybe.”

“I’d be happy to step up, take on a bigger part at the company if that would help you out, ease some of the pressure.”

Lizzie considered her words. Jacob was a good man and they tended to think a lot alike. She didn’t understand why Brock kept him in the wings at Baron. She also knew that his offer came from a genuine willingness to help, and not really from trying to advance his personal position.

“I’ll let you know. I appreciate the offer, Jacob, but I’m going to have to run everything by Dad, you know that. Even if he does have to hand day-to-day control over to someone...me...I can’t sanction changes he wouldn’t make. You understand that, right?”

“Shit would hit the fan,” Jacob acknowledged with a smile. “I’m going to be on the road a lot this summer. The one thing I do that he seems to approve of is rodeo.” He frowned. “But will you promise that if you need anything, you’ll ask?”

“I will, but Jacob, it’s not even a done deal.”

“Sure it is. We all know who he’d like to have running the company....” Jacob looked over at Jet in the corner. “But he relies on you and you’re family. That trumps everything.”

“So are you,” she pointed out. Sure, she remembered the time before Peggy and the boys had come on the scene, but they had been a part of their lives for so long there was no question about their place in the family—at least for her.

“In a way I’m glad I’m not you.” He grinned suddenly. “He’s going to hate being at home and away from the office. I bet he calls you a dozen times a day.”

The unit doors opened again and a grinning Alex burst through, carrying a paper bag nearly as big as he was, Chris following closely behind with a cardboard tray of cups in one hand and a sack in the other.

The two ten-dollar bills Julieta had given Alex wouldn’t have come close to paying for the sheer volume of food they brought back, and she looked at Chris with something that felt like affection. Damn it, she was starting to like him on top of everything else.

That probably wouldn’t be a good idea, would it? Especially if the goal was to keep things logical and businesslike. He stopped and handed her a hot cup. “I thought you could use an herbal tea,” he said quietly, so close to her ear that shivers snuck deliciously down her spine. “Sadly, the other sack is full of doughnuts and cinnamon buns. You may have to make a sacrifice.”

She took the cup and wrapped her hands around its warmth. “It was nice, what you did,” she said, looking up and meeting his gaze. “It’s a long day for Alex.”

“He’s a great kid,” Chris replied. “A lot of energy, but great.” His smile was a little crooked. Lizzie found it endearing.

“I don’t know how long we’re going to be here.” Lizzie took a restorative sip. “But you’re welcome to stay at my place for tonight. My couch is pretty comfortable.”

“I appreciate it.”

“Oh please. You totally dropped everything for me today and under what might have been really tense circumstances. I appreciate it, Chris. I think it’s a good sign, really, for how we’ll be able to deal with each other in the months ahead.”

Right. Because they weren’t actually dating. It was all an act for tonight. And the details to be worked out were more like a business negotiation than a relationship.

A nurse approached the group. “If you’re waiting for Brock Baron, you can see him now. Just for a few minutes. Follow me.”

Chris took her cup from her fingers. “Go,” he ordered, nudging her forward. “I’ll wait for you here.”

She followed the nurse along with the rest of the family, suddenly nervous. She wasn’t ready. Not ready to sit at the head of the boardroom table, and definitely not ready for motherhood—and she was, in all reality, being thrust into both roles at the same time.

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