Buckhorn Beginnings (26 page)

His hesitation was plain before he lifted a hand and smoothed her cheek. He was so gentle, so warm, she couldn't get her feet to step out of his reach. “I didn't want to hurt you, Malone. You must know that.”

She managed a rude laugh. “You couldn't hurt me.”

Her disdainful tone never fazed him. His mouth tilted in a wry, regretful smile. “I think you're wrong about that. I think you've been through a hell of a lot and you're vulnerable right now.”

Because he was right, she felt twice as determined to deny it. “Don't get all mushy on me, Morgan. My stomach can't take it.”

He lifted his other hand so that he framed her face. “You're so tough, aren't you, Malone? Ready to take on the world all alone. I admire that kind of courage, you know.”

“So my insults aren't having the desired effect, huh? You must have a thicker skull than I figured.”

Morgan whistled. “You really are ticked, aren't you?”

“Ticked? I'm a whole lot more than
ticked.
What you did was reprehensible.”

“What I did,” he said, his thumbs gently smoothing her cheeks, “was try to keep you here since I was the one who had run you off.”

Misty blinked at him. He felt guilty? Is that what this was all about? Caught between disbelief and
annoyance, she struggled with her fading anger. She really hadn't wanted to go, but neither had she wanted her personal business sallied about for the entire family to hear. Facing them again was going to be incredibly tough. She already knew there'd be dozens of questions, most importantly about the absent father.

As if he'd read her mind, Morgan made a tsking sound. “Come on, Malone, stop beating yourself up. There's no reason to be embarrassed, you know. My brothers won't judge you. If anything, they'll rightfully blame the guy who got you pregnant and then walked away. Like Honey said, we're old-fashioned about things like that. A guy should take responsibility for his actions.”

She appreciated the sentiment, if not the interference. “Yeah, well, this guy didn't. And believe me, things are better with him out of the picture.”

Morgan laughed. “I'm not disputing that. If he was around, I'd be tempted to beat him into the ground.”

“Really?” That wasn't an altogether unpleasant thought. She'd felt the same many times after the way Kent had reacted to her news.

Morgan nodded, then said gruffly, “He hurt you. The least he deserves is a good beating.”

Misty was speechless. Morgan had sounded almost like he cared, like he didn't despise her, after all. She said facetiously, “How…sweet of you.”

Morgan's look was stern. “Look, Malone. The last thing you'd want is to be married to a loser.”

“The last thing I want is to be married, period.”
Misty stared at his chest and muttered, “I've had my fill of dealing with men, thank you very much.”

“I think you've just been dealing with the wrong men.”

“Such an obvious truth.” She looked at him pointedly.

He let her implication pass without comment, then leaned down until his forehead touched hers. She could feel his warm breath on her lips, his body heat seeping into her, his gentleness flowing over her. She sighed.

“It's also obvious,” he said very softly, “that Honey loves you to death. Nothing will change that.”

Oh, how could he make her feel like this when she was rightfully angry? “I know my sister loves me, Morgan. But telling her wasn't your decision to make.”

“Maybe, but it was the right decision. You were just being stubborn, admit it.”

“No, never.”

He laughed. “At least this way you're with family, and I'm talking about all of us. We are family now, Malone, whether you like it or not. You don't have a job, you don't even have a place to stay.”

Alarmed, she finally managed to dodge his soothing hands and move out of reach. She tried for a credible laugh, but it sounded more like a weak snicker. “Don't be ridiculous.”

His eyes narrowed. “It's no good, Malone. I know you too well.”

“You hardly know me at all!”

“But we're getting there.” Then in a softer tone,
“Just where the hell did you think you were going to go?”

The best she could come up with was a shrug.

“That's what I figured. So why not stay here?”

Misty felt like screaming in frustration. “For crying out loud, Morgan, you
told
me to leave!”

He shook his head. “Damn it, that was before.”

“Oh, I see. A pregnant woman isn't so risky. You're no longer worried that I'll seduce your brothers? After all, I thought that was your overriding concern.”

Morgan leaned against the wall by the fireplace and crossed his arms over his chest. Misty recognized that stance and the accompanying expression all too well.

“No, my overriding concern was the chemistry between us. And your pregnancy doesn't change that much. You're still too damn sexy, and only a dead man wouldn't be tempted.”

She wished she hadn't brought it up. “That's ridiculous.”

He very slowly shook his head. “It's true. You have to know how gorgeous you are, how you make a man feel. But I have an idea on how to handle that.”

The words, along with the way he'd looked at her as he spoke, made her skin flush and her belly tingle.

She didn't want to be attracted to him! He was arrogant and stubborn, but he was also very dedicated to his family, protective and so incredibly good-looking she imagined women had been chasing him for most of his life.

She mustered up a bored look to hide her reaction
to him and asked, “So what's it going to be? Bundle me up in burlap? Paint a big red A on my forehead to ward off the innocent? What?”

“Nothing so drastic as that.” He paused for a long moment, as if measuring his words, then he met her gaze and his eyes were hard…determined. “I'll just tell everyone that we're involved, so you're off-limits.”

“What?”

He smiled at her reaction. “Believe me, Malone, that'll be enough to keep all other men away, which is what you wanted, right?”

M
ORGAN WAITED
until Misty looked at him, then snagged her gaze and refused to let her look away. There was a soft blush to her cheeks that about drove him crazy. He had a gut feeling that blush was a combination of anger, embarrassment and excitement.

He understood the anger and wished for some way to spare her the embarrassment. The excitement he relished.

“It's a good plan, Malone.”

“For me to pretend to…to be your…” Her stammering ceased, and she stared at him blankly.

“My woman. Yeah, that's the plan.” He wanted to walk closer to her, to touch her again, but he didn't dare. She looked skittish enough to jump out of her skin if he even breathed deeply. “Here's how I see it,” he said, trying to sound reasonable. “You do need a job, but it won't be easy to find one without employers knowing you were convicted of stealing from the last place you worked. And once they know that, they'll be reluctant to hire you, right?”

“Maybe.”

“And you're still on probation?”

She nodded hesitantly. “For a few more months.”

“That's what I figured.”

She gulped, and her hands fisted. In shame? In regret? He just didn't know, but he hated to see her feel either emotion. He intended to do what he could about her conviction as soon as possible. But for now, he had other things to contend with. “The job I'm offering gives county wages, which aren't great but neither are they piddling. And the fact you worked for a sheriff's office will have to look good on your résumé, and to your probation officer.”

She didn't appear quite convinced. She stared at her feet in deep concentration.

A niggling sense of panic seeped in. Misty had been very clear about her feelings on involvement of any kind. The only way Morgan could see around that was to wrangle his way into her life. Keeping her here, hiring her on, showing her she could trust him and rely on him was part of a great plan. He'd just have to make damn sure it worked. “As I said, it's not a hard job—”

Her head shot up and she glared at him. “I'm not afraid of hard work.”

“I didn't mean that.” Sometimes Morgan wished he was as good at soothing frazzled nerves as his brother Jordan. Jordan could talk the orneriness out of a mule, whisper a baby bird to sleep. He was one hell of a vet, but his talents carried over to people, as well. Morgan, on the other hand, usually relied on rigid control to get his way. He managed things, taking on other people's problems and resolving them so they didn't have to worry. Most people appreciated that.

Only it didn't work with Misty. She bucked him
at every turn, refusing to accept what he was best at offering.

“All I meant,” he continued, “is that you could easily do the job. You don't need any special training or skills. And by accepting it, you can stay here indefinitely, which rids you of the cost of room and board.”

She was already shaking her head before he'd finished. “I can't just stay here free, Morgan.”

He straightened. “Why the hell not? You hadn't been in a hurry to leave until I prodded you along.”

“That's not entirely true.” She looked flabbergasted by his persistence, but he'd be damned if he'd back off. “Sure, I had hoped to hang out for a week or two more while I figured out what to do next, but then I'd have left. I never intended to stay here any longer than that.”

He scowled at her. Everything had changed the moment she'd dropped to her knees in front of those bushes. She
should
stay, which meant he no longer had to fight himself for wanting her to stick around.

She'd said she wasn't as outgoing as she'd pretended. He wasn't buying that for a single second. She might not be such a real flirt, only using that as a way to cover her worries. But she was brazen and outrageous and beautiful. She was also strong and proud, qualities he'd always admired in men and women alike. But for right now, he wished she wasn't quite so proud.

“Honey wants you to stay.” That was the only argument he could think of that might convince her. Telling her
he
wanted her to stay didn't seem to be
such a great idea. She'd ask him why, and beyond telling her he wanted to ravish her senseless, he'd have no excuse. Even knowing she was pregnant by another man, now that she'd admitted she wouldn't be marrying that man, hadn't dampened his lust. In fact, he admired her courage, which seemed to add a keen edge to his feelings.

In a mumble totally unlike her usual decisive tone, Misty said, “My sister is new here. This is Sawyer's house and—”

“Honey is new, but permanent. She can invite anyone here that she wants.” Misty had a lot to learn about them, first and foremost what
family
meant. When Honey became Sawyer's wife, she became an equal member of that family.

Actually, Morgan thought, smiling a little inside, she'd been an accepted member of their family as soon as they'd all realized Sawyer loved her.

“But Sawyer might not care for—”

“Sawyer will love having you here. But truth is, the house belongs to all of us. My father built it back when he and my mother were married. When she and Gabe's father retired, they decided to move to Florida, and we took over the upkeep of the house. Since grown men need some privacy, Gabe converted the basement into an apartment, and Jordan did the same with the rooms over the garage.”

She looked him over as if trying to figure him out. “But you still live in the house.”

“Yeah.” He could see the questions in her eyes and grinned. “I don't, however, bring women here for overnight, if that's what you're asking. Casey is
almost sixteen now, and
he
thinks he's all grown up, but I still wouldn't flaunt lovers in front of him. I remember being sixteen. Guys that age don't need any help in the raging hormone department.”

She looked startled for a moment, then frowned. “Being raised in a house full of males must be ideal for a boy his age.”

Morgan shrugged. “We've done the best we could. But I know Casey loves the idea of having Honey around. Just as he'll love the idea of you sticking close, too.”

“I don't know, Morgan. I mean, the others…”

“It won't be a problem. The only problem would be if I let you get away.”

She still didn't look convinced, then she harked back to what he'd said earlier. “Gabe is your half brother?”

Morgan grinned, suddenly knowing how he'd reassure her. “Come here, Malone. I have a nice long tale to tell you.”

She snorted at that, but she did go ahead and seat herself—in a chair so he couldn't sit beside her. He chose the couch, and realized they'd switched positions from earlier. He couldn't remember ever grinning so much, but damn, she amused him with her constant advance and retreat. She was a mix of bravado and prudence, and he realized it was a potent combination, guaranteed to drive any man crazy.

“My father died when I was just a baby.” Her eyes widened and he laughed. “I know. Tough to imagine me as a squalling infant, huh?”

“The squalling part I can believe, but the idea of
you ever being little boggles the mind. You're just so—” her gaze skimmed his chest, his shoulders, then down to his thighs “—massive now.”

Because he had her attention, Morgan settled back and stretched out his long legs, then laced his fingers together on his stomach. Misty swallowed and slowly closed her eyes, so she didn't see his grin. “I was still little when my mom remarried and had Jordan. But things didn't work out and she divorced him.”

Her eyes snapped open. Looking more fascinated by the moment, Misty said, “After she had Gabe, you mean?”

“Nope.” He laughed outright at her confusion. “My father died in the war. He was my mother's first real love, and she had a hard time getting over him. Then she met Jordan's father. She was lonely and she had two sons to raise. She thought she loved him and married again. But not long after that he lost his job and started to drink. Things went from bad to worse. It wasn't easy for her to work a job, care for three kids and put up with the small-town stigma of being a divorced widow with three sons.”

“I don't imagine it would be.” Misty picked at a thread on her shorts, then admitted, “Even in this day and age, being a single mother has its problems. Not to mention being a mother of three. She must have a lot of courage.”

He said softly, “You have your own share of courage, sweetheart. Deciding to have the baby shows a lot of guts and determination.”

She changed the subject, or rather got it back on track. “Do you remember much of Jordan's father?”

“Not really. I was only two when she married him, and I've never heard my mother complain much about those times. All she says is that he gave her Jordan, so she doesn't regret a moment of it. But I've lived here my whole life and lots of people talk, mostly about how strong she was and how she'd gone off men completely after losing one and divorcing another.” He watched her closely. “I guess sort of like you claiming you don't want anything to do with men now. A woman gets hurt like that, and it's hard to ever trust again.”

He stared at her until she slowly lifted her gaze to meet his.

“I'm not hurt, Morgan. I keep telling you that. I'm just a little wiser, is all. My priorities right now are a job and security for the baby. I don't need a man for that.”

But he wasn't just any man, and he damn well wanted her to realize it. He went on with his story as if he hadn't been sidetracked. “You know what I do remember? Sitting with her in the evening and reading books, coloring pictures or sometimes making cookies. She worked damn hard, but she was never too tired to talk with us or to give us hell if she caught us fighting.”

Misty gave him a pointed look. “Us, meaning
you
most likely. Somehow I don't see the others getting into as much mischief as you likely did.”

Morgan shrugged. “True. I've always been a bit of a hell-raiser—something Mom claims I inher
ited from my father's side of the family, though I've seen her riled a few times so I'm not buying it. As to the others, Sawyer's always been serious and a bona fide overachiever. There aren't too many men I know who could have cared for a baby and finished up med school without missing a beat. Even with our help, he had his hands full, but he never complained.”

Misty sighed. “Sawyer is the exception. Most men would run from that kind of responsibility.”

For some reason that observation irritated Morgan beyond all reason. “You haven't known enough good men to make that judgment.”

Her laugh was a little sad. “That's true enough, I suppose.” Then she smiled at him, a real smile that affected him like a stroke in just the right place. “I think it's wonderful that you're all so close. My father isn't that way at all. If it wasn't for Honey…”

“I know. She's told me a lot about him, and about how close you both are because of it.” Morgan wished she'd open up a little with him, but her smile was gone and she now had that closed look on her face that he recognized all too well. He said carefully, “Being that you are so close, aren't you just a bit pleased by the idea of having her nearby?”

She ignored his question to ask one of her own. “So what about Gabe? I gather he wasn't found under a rock?”

“Sometimes I wonder. But my mother is still married to Brett Kasper, and he's Gabe's father.”

She studied him closely. “You all look different, but I never realized…. I mean, well, you and Sawyer
do have similar looks, except that you're an imposing hulk and he's not.”

“Gee thanks.”

She waved that away. “You have the same dark hair, and there's something about the shape of your jaws. Stubborn, you know?”

“I've heard that, yes.”

“But now Gabe, with that blond hair and those incredible electric blue eyes—”

“Malone,” he said in warning.

“And Jordan has brown hair and green eyes and his voice is so—” she shivered “—seductive.”

“You're pushing me again, Malone.”

Misty started laughing, and Morgan realized she'd been deliberately baiting him. He smiled with her. “Do I need to start worrying about my brothers' virtue again?”

“Ha! None of you have any virtue left, and you know it.”

“Not true. Virtue and chastity are not the same thing at all.”

She chuckled again, shaking her head in feigned disbelief. Whether she realized it yet or not, she liked him, and she'd like being with him. Morgan spoke his thoughts aloud without even thinking about it. “Hearing you laugh is much nicer than hearing you cry.”

Just like that, she stiffened up on him. Color darkened her cheeks, and her eyes narrowed. “If you hadn't been sneaking around this morning, you wouldn't have been subjected to hearing me cry.”

Embarrassing her hadn't been his intent. He low
ered his voice to a soothing growl. “I wasn't complaining, Malone, except that I don't like seeing you unhappy.”

She sat forward, her brows lifted in mock surprise. “Oh, I see. That's why you announced to everyone that I'm pregnant, because you thought it would somehow make me happy?”

“No. But I knew going off on your own wouldn't make you happy, either. If anything, it would've made you more miserable.”

“I am
not
miserable.”

He raised his hands in surrender. “I stand corrected. And before you run away in a huff, do you want me to tell you the happy ending to my mother's story?”

“With your idea of
happy,
I'm not at all sure.”

In a persuasive tone, he suggested, “Try trusting me just a little, Malone.”

“No, never.”

She was determined not to give an inch, and it frustrated him beyond measure. “You're awfully fond of that particular saying.”