The Bachelor's Baby Page 3

  “The Circle H guy?” Liz murmured, looking upward herself, head cocked with fresh assessment. “I thought the consensus was that he seemed to know what he was doing, but he looked more like a city slicker. Takes one to know one, right?” Liz added with a self-deprecating grin that wrinkled her nose.

  Meg thought he looked like a man intent on making a point as he appeared at the rail to scan the crowded tables down here. His gaze came to rest on her. He had a beer in his hand. No need for a stronger dose of liquid courage, his casual hold on the bottle seemed to say. He was merely whiling his time until it was his turn to climb onto the block.

  Then he’d slay every female heart in this room, because he might have been tricked into doing this, but he didn’t falter from a dirty job. He showed up, worked hard, finished on time and on budget.

  Actually, she bet he threw in a few extras. He looked like that kind of guy.

  Someone should open a window. It was really hot in here.

  “And it was a brief meeting, you say?” Liz asked, as she noted the blush staining Meg’s face.

  “Very,” Meg lied, finally relaxing when Linc was distracted by the arrival of another one of the bachelors next to him. The men exchanged a handshake that held an air of commiseration.

  “That’s Gabriel Morales,” Liz provided, pointing at the brochure. “Says he was one of the rescuers. Can we get these cheat sheets printed for everyone in town?”

  Meg smirked. “No, you’ll have to build your database the old-fashioned way: gossip. People don’t say much about him, though.” Not anymore. His childhood had been quite the fodder for the town back in the day, but she left that alone. “I only know what was in the Courier when the accident happened. He’s a local, but he travels a lot for his work. He’s a professional rescuer. Sounds like it was lucky he was there when Josh had his accident.”

  People were speculating on the intriguing coincidence that Josh’s mom, Molly, arrived on scene with Gabriel, but Meg didn’t repeat that either. Molly was being talked about enough as it was.

  She hoped Gabriel was reassuring Linc that this really was a good cause, but the two men were just standing there looking remote.

  Not that anything would spare Linc’s opinion of her at this point. He was never going to forgive her. She really ought to be over feeling awful about it. For the most part she’d conquered the worst of her abandonment issues. Working in television certainly grew you a thick skin where criticism and denunciation were concerned.

  But something about Linc made all her rawest places feel exposed and disdained. She didn’t like knowing he felt actively hostile toward her.

  Buck, the fast-talking good ol’ boy who oversaw every rodeo, estate sale and cattle auction in the county, took the stage. He wore his customary string tie and massive belt buckle along with a grin of delight.

  This was going to be awful. Buck was about to have a field day and Linc would take out a contract on her.

  After a few remarks that got everyone in their seats, laughing but paying attention, Buck introduced Jett Casey.

  “He’s cute,” Liz leaned over to whisper admiringly while a subtle shift went through the crowd. Every woman sucked in her stomach and sat up straighter for the ex-Olympian.

  “I won’t tell Blake you said that,” Meg teased, “But yeah. Jett’s family owns a ton of property in the area. No one ever sees him, though. He loves the back country and pretty much stays there. I’m surprised he’s here, actually. He was offering a guided ski trip but hurt his leg. Thought he might have cancelled.” She picked up the brochure, but didn’t have to read it. Buck explained that Jett was offering a week’s worth of handyman jobs—which was all Buck needed to put the room into fits with his lightning-fast double-entendres.

  Jett was a sport about it and went for a cool two grand offered by Ella Grace Emerson who gifted the bachelor to Mardie Griffin. Mardie was delivering drinks tonight, but really needed the help at home.

  “That’s nice,” Meg explained to Liz. “Mardie has a baby girl and just bought a house—if it’s the one I think it is, it’s a real dump. This’ll be a huge help for her.”

  Ryan Henderson was next and pregnant Hannah bought him which made Meg do a double-take until she overheard the dinner was actually a birthday present for Rachel.

  “When is your birthday?” Liz asked Meg when she explained.

  “Do not even think it,” Meg warned, dragging her stern look from Liz’s grin of enjoyment to Buck as he called, “Lincoln Brady.”

  Linc ambled onto the stage while Buck kept his leathery face directed at the card he held. “Says here this Renegade From The Oil Rigs is new to Marietta. You took over the Circle H a few months ago? Where from?”

  “Most recently Texas—”

  “Got us a longhorn here, ladies,” Buck said in a suggestive aside.

  A ripple of laughter went through the crowd.

  Linc offered a tolerant smirk.

  “How did you come to join our auction, Linc?”

  “I believe it was a bait and switch technique.”

  Most tittered at his laconic joke. Meg felt the glance of his gaze like a swooping magpie, talons catching in her hair and giving it a yank.

  “Being new in town, I’m sure you’re anxious to meet some of our single women,” Buck continued smoothly. “And I know how priceless and exotic out-of-state breed stock is to them,” he drawled, then read from his card. “Ladies, a date with this bachelor will include champagne and chocolate in the limousine that picks you up, a helicopter tour of the area, piloted by Mr. Brady, lunch at a five star restaurant in Great Falls, and maid service to clean your house while you’re out. Who wants to open with three hundred dollars?”

  “Three twenty-five.”

  “Three fifty.”

  The bidding went up to five hundred very quickly with Buck’s smooth patter working the crowd. Meg waited until it wavered at six seventy-five then threw out, “Seven,” figuring she owed him after getting him into this.

  “Seven from our celebrity guest.”

  Meg hid her cringe, always annoyed when people here made a big deal about what she did for a living.

  “Do we have seven-fifty?” Buck coaxed.

  “Eight,” a male voice said.

  It took everyone a moment to realize Linc had spoken.

  “Did you just say eight? You can’t bid on yourself,” Buck told him. “Never in my career have the cattle done this to me, folks.”

  “I can do whatever I want.” Linc tucked his hands in his pockets, rocking back on his heels, as he waited out the chuckles. He was completely at ease as he took control of the room and held it in thrall. “As it was pointed out to me when I offered to write a generous check and skip this silliness, it’s a good cause and people are here for a show. Let’s make it interesting.”

  He wasn’t being sarcastic, but there was a dig in there toward her, Meg was sure. At the very least, it was a challenge.

  “We’ve barely covered the cost of fuel at this point,” Linc added. “I could write the check myself, stay home and get in a good day’s work. If you want me to go through with this, let’s make sure we’re getting this boy what he needs.”

  “Fair enough,” Buck said, then prompted, “Ladies? Do we have nine hundred?”

  “Nine,” Meg stated.

  Linc sharpened his gaze on her. “A thousand,” he said blithely.

  “Eleven hundred,” she tossed, equally unconcerned.

  The air in the room began to pressurize as breaths were drawn in with anticipation.

  “Twelve...?” he invited.

  “Thirteen,” she called flippantly, nodding at Buck that she was serious.

  “Fourteen,” Linc said. “And I can stay silent when you say...”

  “Fifteen,” she pronounced deliberately.

  Everyone clapped. Meg started to grin with triumph.

  “But I won’t,” Linc said. “Sixteen.”

  Meg sobered.

  The room silenced. r />
  “Really?” she asked.

  “It’s a good cause,” he reminded. Taunted.

  “Seventeen,” she allowed.

  “Two thousand,” he said.

  “What?” His leap over three hundred dollars startled her. He was doing this on purpose. Punishing her. She rose to her feet. “Twenty-one,” she said in a strong voice, firm with warning.

  “Twenty-two.”

  “I’m getting the feeling I’m not needed here,” Buck joked. “In fact, I think we should all leave the room.”

  Meg blushed hard. “You’re just—” she started to blurt at Linc.

  He lifted his brows in a prompt for her to finish her statement. Getting back at me, is what she wanted to accuse. The corners of his mouth were digging in, smugly enjoying her discomfiture.

  “Twenty-five hundred dollars,” she said. It was as high as she would go and screw his helicopter tour. That was her signing bonus that she had set aside for an all-inclusive when she got tired of winter. He was going to provide a lot more than lunch if she was giving it away.

  “Two thousand, five hundred...and one,” he declared precisely.

  Jerk. The entire room was laughing at her.

  “You know what?” she said as the noise died down. “You write your check and I’ll write mine. We’ll call this date done because you obviously don’t want to go through with it.” Not with her, at any rate. She was burning with humiliation and just wanted this hideous scene over.

  He lost some of his self-assured demeanor. His expression blanked with surprise, but he recovered quickly. His eyelids came down in a shuttered blink and he nodded. “Deal.”

  Linc had forgotten for a minute that he wasn’t dealing with a bunch of CEOs where one-upmanship was not just a game, but a professional survival tactic. His testosterone had got the better of him and now he felt like he’d walked through a door ahead of a woman and let it slam in her face.

  He got his ass off the stage, grateful for that much.

  After dropping off his check and picking up the beer he was nursing, he went to the bar and arranged to cover whatever was on Meg’s tab. Then he turned around in time to see her confusion as she tried to write her own donation check.

  A second later, she approached him with a disgruntled frown wrinkling her strawberry blond brows. “They said you wrote a check for five thousand dollars.”

  “Five thousand and one,” he corrected. “What are you drinking?” He was disturbed to realize how important it was that she accept his olive branch, even though he thoroughly deserved her to tell him to drop dead.

  “You don’t have to buy me a drink.” She glanced back at her table where her drink sat half-full. “I should get back to Liz.” Her friend was deep in conversation with the woman at the next table.

  Meg’s cornflower blue gaze flicked back to his, hesitant and bruised, as though hoping he hadn’t noticed that she wasn’t missed. She didn’t let any of her hard feelings show on her face, though. She was tough. Or at least determined to appear that way. She was a very pretty woman, wearing minimal make-up, hair in loose waves around her face. She’d dressed casually in skinny jeans and a snug plum-colored sweater that might have been cashmere.

  He’d love the right to pet and find out. Get to know her curves. Unwind that flimsy silk scarf from her slender neck and—yeah, he could think of some very interesting things to do with that scarf.

  Damn, but she got to him. It wasn’t just the polish, either. There was a fascinating liveliness to her. He’d been watching her all night, had watched her in the hardware store that day even. She smiled quickly and warmly at people, no matter who they were, laughter in her eyes even when she was listening attentively. He didn’t think it was a put-on from her work in front of a camera, either. The way people reacted to her wasn’t star-struck. They were genuinely pleased to see her, like she was a long lost friend.

  As someone who’d spent a lot of his life moving around, taking control of chaos with a firm hand, winding up in charge and therefore never ‘one of the guys,’ he envied her place in this community. Not that he was yearning to fit in. He wasn’t moping or anything, just suddenly made aware that if Marietta was his home now, maybe he ought to quit acting like Salinger, reclusively hiding in his dilapidated house outside of town.

  “You and I have obviously got off on the wrong foot,” he said. “Let me buy you a drink.” His lustful thoughts were creeping into his voice. He gave his libido a yank and signaled to the barman.

  “Gin and tonic, please, Dillon,” she said to the bartender, flashing him her smile before she turned back to Linc. “I really am sorry I got you into this. Please tell me we’re even now.”

  He carried their drinks to a corner where the noise of the next round of auction bidding wasn’t so loud.

  “Even Steven,” he assured her, touching the neck of his bottle to the rim of her glass.

  “Thank you. This town’s too small for grudges, even if I’m just visiting.”

  They both sipped, gazes intersecting before he skimmed an admiring glance over the smoothness of her skin, the flawless manicure of her nails, the inviting waviness of her hair.

  Her eyes went soft and a light flush of color rose under her cheekbones.

  His blood heated as he absorbed that she was responding to his interest, seeming as attracted as he was. Why the hell hadn’t she just come home with him the other day? A burn of anticipation glowed like a branding iron behind his fly. He lowered his bottle.

  “We could still do that date, you know,” he murmured, and rather liked the way she swept her lashes down, like her own thoughts had gone where his had, but she was too shy to reveal it.

  “Even though I didn’t pay for it?” she scoffed lightly. “I’ll have to take a rain check. I’m leaving for Chicago tomorrow.”

  Something inside him dropped off a cliff. “Really?”

  She shrugged fatalistically. “Career calls. I was here a few weeks ago for Christmas so this visit isn’t a proper vacation. I only came back to...” she wrinkled her nose and quoted the bible. “Put away my childish things.”

  Her deliberate tone was spoken with an inward sort of reflection, like she wasn’t being as flippant as she wanted to appear.

  “That sounded sad,” he noted, oddly caught by her change of mood. “You just said you’ll be back to visit.”

  “I will, but I realized this trip that I probably won’t come back here to live. My safety net is gone. So yes, I’m sad.”

  And apprehensive, if he wasn’t mistaken. He wouldn’t call himself deeply intuitive, but you didn’t work closely with men in tight confines around heavy machinery without learning to read faces. Hers was taut beneath her projection of friendliness.

  “Problems at work?” he asked.

  She flashed a glance up at him, wariness practically sparking off her like static, before dropping her gaze to her drink and asking, “Why do you say that?”

  Interesting.

  “You said you didn’t have a safety net here anymore. That implies you need or want one. What’s wrong? Are they downsizing or something?” He intensified his scavenge across her features, trying to read clues in an expression that went from poker-bluff to surprised and maybe...relieved? Because he hadn’t guessed correctly?

  “No, I have a job as long as I want it,” she said with more confidence than most people showed these days. “The safety net remark just means—” She shrugged. “I took a chance when I moved away. Most people want to know there’s a Plan B when you take a risk, that you can fall back on the familiar. I’ve always had that and it was comforting. But I don’t really need it anymore. I’m pretty established in Chicago.”

  He’d never had a fallback. Once his father had died, he’d been his mother’s backup as much as the other way around. She hadn’t pulled any punches about their situation, and he’d felt the gravity of their circumstances every single day. By the time they’d been kicked out of Charlie’s, he’d been the breadwinner and fully respo
nsible for the both of them.

  “You like Chicago?” he asked, curious how she’d wound up there from here.

  “I’d better, hadn’t I?” she scoffed, pretending to be tough again, then quirked her mouth in rueful confession. “Things have been less than ideal lately. I’m given to understand it won’t always be this way, but for now it sucks and I would have preferred to know I could run home anytime. But now I can’t. So I’ll have to grin and bear it.”

  His hackles rose as a suspicion formed, one that always had the power to light his fuse. “What are you talking about? Not sexual harassment?”

  “What? No,” she dismissed, plainly surprised. A frown of mixed emotions chased across her expression. After a brief second of indecision, she allowed, “Not exactly.” She took a deep swallow and she set her drink away, hand tremoring a little. “It’s nothing, really. Kind of a stalker.”

  The same but different. His insides went cold. “Are you serious?”

  Her nod was more a hitch and shrug, trying to be dismissive, like it wasn’t a big deal. “I haven’t told anyone here, not even Blake. He’d lose his mind and there’s nothing he could do. Everything that can be done, has been. The station has been great, following up with the police to take every measure, hiring me personal security, but...” She shrugged. “There’s only so much they can do.”

  “You can’t go back to that,” he stated.

  Her impatient wave dismissed his remark. “I can’t quit my job. It’s an inconvenience—”

  “It’s more than an inconvenience, Meg,” he cut in, old anger rising like a skeleton from a grave.

  “Whoa,” she cautioned, palm almost touching his chest. “I can see you’re on my side, which is nice, but this is exactly why I haven’t told Blake. You guys with your overdeveloped protective instincts. Changing my routines is an inconvenience,” she clarified. “Never going anywhere alone is a total pain, but I’m not about to let a stranger cut short a career I’ve spent my whole life building. I’ll figure out how to live my life around these restrictions.”

  He told himself to back off, but he knew exactly how vulnerable a single woman was, no matter how resourceful and independent she tried to be.