Read Only You Online

Authors: Kate Kelly

Only You (10 page)

BOOK: Only You
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Clay moved to her side. “Quite a thing to watch, huh?”

“Absolutely amazing,” she said. As JD strode to the barn door, she felt a sense of loss that she knew was out of proportion to what they’d shared in the last half hour. She wanted to call his name, ask him if she could go wherever he was headed. But she knew she wasn’t welcome. And in the long run, that was good, because she had a mission to accomplish. Now more than ever, she wanted her own baby.

She turned away from the door and picked up a thermos. “I brought coffee,” she said. “So what happens next?”

Two weeks later, Maggie strolled across the discreetly lit room and slipped onto a stool at the hotel bar. She’d noticed at least three candidates for Daddy Dearest when she entered the bar. Four, actually. Never overlook the bartender, especially when he was as young and buff as this one.

Her period hadn’t made much of an appearance this month, but stress had always affected her monthly cycle. But she was almost certain she was ovulating again, so full steam ahead.

She smiled across the bar at the young man. Well, not that young. Not
too
young for what she had in mind. “Good evening,” she said in her huskiest voice. And watched in satisfaction as his mouth fell open.

She crossed her legs and leaned an elbow on the bar. After a whole day of being pampered at the hotel’s spa, she felt terrific. Ready for anything and anyone. She was in her prime, and she knew it, and so did every man in the room. Including the bartender.

He snapped his mouth shut and swallowed. “What are you drinking this evening, ma’am?”

Ma’am? Ma’am was an old-lady word. Not that she had anything against older women, but come on. She wasn’t at the ma’am stage yet. Was she?

“Vodka martini,” she snapped. “Two olives.”

She twisted on her stool and surveyed the room. Claire and Sammie had pleaded fatigue after being worked over in the spa all day and refused to come downstairs with her this evening. Those two had been in the country far too long. She was tired, too, but she wasn’t about to let a little lethargy get in the way of her plans. Staying at a hotel in Salt Lake City, far from anyone she knew other than her two best friends, was a perfect opportunity to find an anonymous donor and just get the damned deed done. She’d been diddling around on the ranch for the last two weeks, the main events of each day being her riding Lulu and furnishing JD’s house. He was never home, which made her job much easier, but she couldn’t ignore the smidgeon of disappointment she felt every time she walked into the empty house.

The bartender put her drink in front of her. “Do you want to put this on your room tab?”

“Yes. Thank you.” She took a cautious sip. She mostly drank wine, but had decided she needed the extra fortification tonight.

“Just write your room number here.”

She stared at the bar tab. “I don’t remember the number.”

“Not a problem.” He smirked. “Got a credit card?”

“Lots.” She pulled out several cards and smiled when she saw JD’s. She’d pay him back, but right now she couldn’t resist using his card. She’d love to be in the same room with him when he got his monthly bill. She’d already ordered quite a few things online for his house.

The bartender ran the card through the machine, returned it to her and drifted off to the end of the bar to attend to some other people. He was definitely off the list, she decided. He thought she was old and stupid.

Before she was halfway through her martini, the bartender put another one in front of her. “Compliments of the gentleman over there.” He pointed to a well-dressed man sitting alone a few tables over.

She swiveled around and smiled at him. Not bad. A little paunchy, and, oh dear, dandruff. Not really what she had in mind. She stifled a yawn as the man stood and approached her.

“Evening,” he said in a Southern accent.

She smiled politely and yawned again. “Excuse me.” She patted her mouth. “I hope my husband arrives soon or I’ll have to call it a night.”

“I was going to ask you to dinner, but your husband probably wouldn’t approve.”

“No. Thank you for the drink, though.”

“My pleasure. I surely do hope your husband catches up to you soon.”

She watched him lumber out of the bar. He was kind of nice. Not her type, but nice all the same. Claire and Sammie would be all over her for turning down a man like him. They should be here, supporting her. Picking up a guy was a lot harder than she’d imagined, and if her two best friends had been flanking her, at least they’d get a good laugh out of the evening.

Instead of laughing, she felt a little teary. She frowned. Now that she thought about it, she’d been tearing up a lot lately over silly things. She couldn’t have PMS.

It had to be the uncertainty of her future. Would she get pregnant, and if she did, would she move to the Jackson Hole area to be close to Claire and, hopefully, Sammie? The gallery didn’t need her on site anymore, and San Francisco was a short plane ride away if they did. She might even sell her share and open a new business in Wyoming. She had loads of money, anyway, thanks to her birth parent’s trust fund. She rested her chin in her hand. It had been years since she’d tried to discover who her mother was. Maybe it was time to try again.

“There are two things wrong here,” a deep male voice murmured beside her.

She turned and looked into Clint Eastwood’s narrowed gaze. Or what Clint Eastwood looked like thirty years ago. The man was mesmerizing.

“A pretty lady like yourself shouldn’t be sitting all alone.” A dimple creased his left cheek. “And she definitely shouldn’t look so sad. Sam Hatheway.” He held out his large hand.

She couldn’t have looked away from him if she’d wanted to. He was chiseled—just everywhere. This was the father of her child. She could feel it all the way down to her toes, which instantly curled.

She put her hand in his and shivered when she felt his calluses against her palm. Now
this
was a man.

“And your name is?” He smiled as if he knew exactly the effect he was having on her.

“Umm . . . Maggie. Maggie Kennedy.”

“Pleasure to meet you, Maggie Kennedy.”  

“You’re a Texan.”
Brilliant, Maggie. Truly brilliant
.

“Well, we are in the West. I take it you’re not from around here.”

“San Francisco.”

He let go of her hand. “And what’s Maggie from San Francisco doing in Salt Lake City?”

She felt the tiniest smidgeon of irritation at the hint of smugness in his voice. As if he already knew how the evening was going to end. “Enjoying a couple of days at the spa and shopping with my girlfriends.” She held her breath. Was he going to repeat all that information back to her? Maggie Kennedy, San Francisco, spa and shopping?

He looked around. “And the girlfriends are?”

“Upstairs, having a night in.” Her nerves were jumping all over the place. She picked up her glass, then put it down without taking a drink. Could this really be it? Shouldn’t she be asking him all sorts of questions? How did you ask someone his IQ or if he had any hereditary diseases in his family without sounding like an idiot?

He narrowed his gaze even more. “I don’t think you’re used to hanging out in bars by yourself.”

A nervous laugh escaped her. For heaven’s sake, she was thirty-six. She could handle a mild flirtation. “Not often. No.”

“Would you like another drink?” He turned to face the bar. “Bartender? I’ll have a scotch on the rocks. Maggie?”

She looked at her second martini, which she hadn’t touched. “No, thanks, but I reserve the right to change my mind at any time this evening.”

Sam laughed, the corners of his eyes crinkling. He really was an attractive man. He grabbed his glass of scotch and held it up until she picked up her martini and clinked it against his drink. He took a sip and put his glass down. “How about you tell me what you’re really doing in a bar by yourself?”

She choked on her mouthful of vodka. “Just having a drink before I turn in.”

“Husband?”

“Divorced. You?”

He shook his head. “Never married. Boyfriend?”

“What are you? A detective?”

“Her boyfriend is right here,” A familiar voice sounded behind Maggie.

She stiffened as an arm draped over her shoulders. JD? She swiveled around and leveled him with a glare. What was he doing here, and why did he think he had the right to intrude on her evening? And why did he have to look so handsome dressed in an expensive black suit? She’d only seen him in jeans and T-shirts until now.

“Darling.” He leaned forward and covered her mouth with his, literally taking her breath away with a passionate kiss that was invading and inviting at the same time. He tasted like coffee and a faint hint of spice that she suspected was JD distilled. If she could bottle that taste, she’d make a fortune.

She knew he was marking her as his, but she couldn’t resist leaning into his hard, warm body as though she’d been starving for his touch. When Sam cleared his throat beside her, she remembered what she was supposed to be doing. She had the wrong damn man. She pushed JD away. Or tried to, but he caught her hands in his and pulled her into his side.

“What are you doing here?” she hissed.

“Meeting you, like I said I would.” He turned away from her and offered Sam his hand. “JD Cooper.”

Sam took his hand. “Sam Hatheway. JD Cooper, the architect?”

“Some days.”

Maggie snapped her mouth shut and raised her chin when JD focused on her again. “Have you had dinner yet?” he asked, his eyes twinkling. He was enjoying himself, knowing damn well he had interrupted her Daddy Dearest search.

“No.”

She curled her hands into fists, wishing she could hit something.
Someone
. Sam could be the one. A few minutes ago, she was sure he was. But now, looking at the two men together, she could see she may have been overly generous in her estimation of Sam’s charms. He looked older than she’d first thought, and a little shopworn. There was something almost sad about him, like he was a faded replica of himself. Which, when she got right down to it, didn’t matter. As long as he was kind and gentle and healthy, of course, his age wasn’t all that important. Except she was sure she’d read somewhere about guys’ sperm count drastically reducing as they aged. 

JD shoved his crisp white shirtsleeve back and checked his watch. “If we hurry, we can get to the restaurant before it closes, sweetheart.” He grabbed her elbow and tugged her off the stool when she didn’t budge. She’d sweetheart him. That wasn’t how he’d felt about her the last time they’d talked.

“Thanks for looking after Maggie until I got here.” He nodded to Sam and walked her out of the bar before she could tell him to take a flying leap. She didn’t care for his high-handed ways, and the only reason she was letting him get away with it right now was because she felt like she might cry, and how embarrassing would that be?

He didn’t let go of her until they were in an elevator and the door closed. She wanted to yell at him, but to her dismay, tears formed in her eyes.

“Aw, Maggie. Don’t cry, hon.”

“I’m never going to have a ch—child.”

He wrapped his arms around her and kissed the top of her head. Despite all the mixed-up feelings inside, she burrowed deeper into his chest. She loved being held by him. She felt safe in his arms.

“Of course you will. It’s just . . . that guy, Sam. I swear I’ve seen him hanging around hotel bars in Salt Lake City before.”

“You were hanging out in the bar,” she pointed out.

“I was meeting clients. When Claire asked me for the name of a good hotel that had a spa in Salt Lake, I didn’t put it together that it was for your weekend away with the girls. I had no idea you’d be here.”

She fiddled with a button on the front of his shirt. “You think Sam is a hustler?”

JD snorted. “I know he is. Doesn’t matter. Every man in that bar had his eyes on you. If I hadn’t waltzed you out of there, they’d have formed a line to get to you.”

“That was the idea.”

The muscle in his jaw pulsed. “I know, but you can do better than Sam. I’ve been working hard all week. Indulge me. Have dinner with me so I don’t have to eat alone again.”

The elevator door opened, and JD escorted her past the two couples who were waiting to board. Maggie’s stomach growled when the smell of food hit her. “I’m starving.” She’d skipped dinner and had gone straight to the bar.

JD smiled. “I love a woman with a good appetite. This place is better than most hotel restaurants.” 

The large, open room was half-empty because of the late hour, and the maître d’ immediately led them to a table by a wall of windows. All lit up, Salt Lake City looked bigger than she’d expected.

“Do you usually stay here when you’re in Salt Lake?” Maggie asked after they were seated.

JD studied the menu. “I haven’t been in town for a while, but yes, I’ve stayed here before. It’s central to downtown.”

“But you lived in Jackson Hole?”

“No. Lydia and I lived here for a few years. She wasn’t eager to move to the ranch.”

“Where is she now?”

JD glanced over the top of his menu. “Who?”

“Your wife.”

BOOK: Only You
8.29Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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