Only You (13 page)

JD had known Lydia was coming, and he hadn’t even given her the courtesy of warning her. Why would he inform her that his wife was returning home? He wasn’t in love with
her
. Maggie meant nothing to him. She was a stranger, really. All those things she’d just bought for his house would go right back to the store now. Lydia would want to buy her own furniture. Or already had a household full of goods.

Fine. Now she could get on with her own plans. Buy her house, get pregnant and start a business. Getting involved with JD had been nothing more than a minor detour, but she was back on track now.

Come on, Claire
. She had half a minute at best before she started crying all over the leather seats. And she refused to do that here. She started to bend over to look for the spare key when Claire and Sammie came out of the house and hurried toward the SUV.

“Are you okay?” Claire asked when she climbed in behind the steering wheel and Sammie piled into the back seat.

“She was wearing his wedding ring. She still goes by Cooper,” Maggie said. “They’re getting back together.”

“I doubt that.” Claire started the vehicle and backed out. “JD wouldn’t have asked you to decorate his house if Lydia and he are planning to live together again. I think he would have told you.”

“Like he told me his wife was showing up this morning?”

“She could have called him on his cell while he was out on the range, and he didn’t have time to get back before her.” Sammie reached over from the backseat and patted her shoulder.

“If his cell worked well enough to take a call from his wife, he could have called me.”

“Ex-wife,” Claire corrected her.

“Why does everyone keep saying that?” Maggie wailed.

“What?”

“Ex-wife.”

Claire frowned. “Who’s everyone?”

“JD.”

Claire made the harrumph sound she used when she was chewing her words instead of spitting them out.

“Stop!” Maggie clamped a hand over her mouth.

“We’re almost . . . Oh, oh. Hang on.” When Claire slammed on the brakes, Maggie stumbled out of the truck and held on to the door handle as she threw up. She closed her eyes and struggled to regain her equilibrium. It was embarrassing enough to be sick by the side of the road. If she fainted, she’d never hear the end of it. She gratefully took the bottle of water Sammie offered her and swished some around her mouth, spit and took a deep drink.

“Don’t drink too much,” Sammie warned. “If you’ve got that flu, you’ll even throw up water. I did.”

“How long have you been feeling sick?” Claire asked Maggie after she had started the truck again.

Maggie leaned her head against the back of the seat. “I don’t know. The last couple of days. The nausea catches me off guard every time. It’s not like I feel sick all the time, but then all of a sudden I’m nauseated. And I’m tired.”

“I was wiped when I had the flu,” Sammie said. “You’ll get over it in a few days. You don’t have it as badly as I did.”

Clair pulled up close to the ranch house to let Maggie out. “I think you should lie down for a while.”

“Yeah.” Maggie and Sammie got out.

“Maggie,” Claire called.

“Yeah?” She turned back to her friend.

“Don’t assume anything about JD and Lydia. I seriously doubt they’ll get back together.”

Maggie forced a smile. “It’s not really my business, is it? I’ve got better things to do than sit around and wonder what JD is up to.”

All she wanted right now was to crawl into bed and sleep for the next few hours. Once she felt rested, she’d concentrate on her own life.

Maggie slept longer than she’d expected, and it wasn’t until later the next afternoon that she started to feel like herself again. She breezed into the kitchen and looked over Sammie’s shoulder at the veggies spread on the counter. “I think I’ve kicked that flu. What are you cooking?”

“Vegetable soup.”

“I love your soups. Maybe we should include those on the tearoom menu. Serve a light lunch.”

“Good idea. They’re so easy to make.”

Maggie patted her shoulder. “You should start writing down which ones you think you’d like to make. Most small towns have a summer fair. We could rent a booth and give out samples.”

“You’re brilliant at this.” Sammie grinned.

“I have been in business for ten years. Guess I learned something besides how to smooth ruffled egos while running the art gallery. Where’s Claire?”

Sammie sighed. “Hiding in her room. She thinks she saw Ethan drive by last night on his way to JD’s. She’s been tiptoeing around all day, afraid of her own shadow. I get knots in my stomach thinking about how she’s acting. She’s usually so put together.”

“It’s so not like her. I don’t get it.”

“I think it’s a weird kind of hysteria. We did an article in the magazine on different types that can sometimes afflict people.”

“I don’t suppose you know the cure?”

“Um, one thing was if you were jarred out of your comfort zone. Sort of like a mild shock thing. The shock makes you see your life differently.”

“I know just the thing.” Maggie grinned. “Leave those veggies. We’re going to get dressed up and hit that cowboy bar in town and get stinking drunk. And I’m not taking no for an answer. Think of it like this”—she draped her arm over Sammie’s shoulders and propelled her toward the stairs—“you’re doing it for the sake of your friends. I need me a cowboy, and Claire needs to let loose and remember she’s an attractive, desirable woman. I’m sure there will be a few cowboys around who won’t mind reminding her of that.”

Sammie giggled as they walked upstairs. “What about me?”

“I don’t think it will hurt to give ol’ Dave a bit of a shock, too.”

Sammie blushed. “But I don’t—”

“Yeah, you do. Not that you’ve asked, but I think he’s a lovely man. I’m really happy for you.”

“There’s nothing—”

Maggie grinned. “There will be. Let’s roust Claire out of her room. We are going to have fun tonight.”

“Are you sure you’re feeling up to a night out?”

“Yeah. Weird, isn’t it? I think I’ve kicked the flu already.”

Maggie extricated herself from cowboy number three and limped toward her table. She hadn’t bothered to ask their names, or try to remember if they volunteered information about themselves. Who knew she’d be so picky? But she refused to go to bed with anyone with bad breath, perspiration problems or greasy hair.

And she hated country and western music. Absolutely hated it. She was tired and cranky and wanted to go home.

Sammie and Claire were having the time of their lives. They’d hardly left the dance floor the last two hours. At least part of her mission was a success. Claire had a real shine on, and men were buzzing around her like hummingbirds after sugar. Which was the whole point of the evening. Maggie had missed her opportunity to get pregnant this month, so it was a night off as far as she was concerned.

She’d almost made it back to their empty table when a man intercepted her. A tall man. A tall, muscular man who smelled—she sniffed—interesting. A tall, muscular man, dressed in black, with an earring in his ear. She started to smile. Wouldn’t you know she’d find great daddy material when she wasn’t looking. Now this was more like it, though not exactly what she’d had in mind. He had an edge to him that made her shiver when he bared his white teeth in a smile. Shivering was good, right?

He held out his hand. His dark eyes glittered as he studied her. “Jesse Mann.”

She hesitated for a second. She couldn’t quite put her finger on it, but there was something a little . . . scary about him. God, she was so sick of herself. He was exactly the kind of man she’d been looking for. A love ’em and leave ’em kind of guy.

“Maggie Kennedy.” She slipped her hand into his warm, dry grasp.

He grinned. “Maggie. I like that. Buy you a drink?”

“Um, well, maybe . . .” He’d taken her elbow and propelled her toward the bar. She dragged her feet. “I was headed back to my table.”

He slowed and turned to face her. “I thought you’d like to sit at the bar.”

What difference did it make to him? Unless he was cutting her out of the herd. Listen to her. She was thinking like a damned cowboy now. Either way, she wanted to sit at the table with Claire and Sammie.

“I’d prefer to sit at my table with my friends.”

He studied her for a minute, then smiled the most gorgeous smile. “Fine. But have a dance with me first.” He wrapped his arm around her waist, pulled her close and rocked them both to the music.

She didn’t want to dance, either. Her foot still smarted from the last cowboy, who’d stepped on her feet several times. But for the moment, it seemed easier to go along with him than cause a scene. At least Jesse was a good dancer. She tried easing back from him a couple of inches, but his arms tightened around her, and he dipped his head to nuzzle her neck. “You sure are beautiful, Maggie Kennedy.”

She leaned her torso away from him. “Are you from around here?”

“Not really.” He pulled her close to him again. She waited to feel . . . something. It didn’t make sense. He was exactly what she’d thought she wanted, and she couldn’t work up the enthusiasm to get excited. The whole point of this exercise was to have fun conceiving her child, but this didn’t feel like fun.

“Do you work on a ranch around here?”

He gazed at her with a pained look. “Honey, I came in to have fun. If you’re looking for someone to hook up with for more than one night, you’ve got the wrong guy.”

The song finished, and another one started. Someone tapped her on the shoulder, and before she could turn around, Jesse slung his arm around her neck and pulled her toward the bar. “The lady’s not interested,” he scowled at the lanky cowboy. “We danced,” he said to her. “Now, let’s get a drink.”

“Hang on.” She dug her feet in and glanced around for Claire and Sammie. Both had stopped dancing and were watching her. Great. What had she gotten herself into? “I don’t want a drink, and I don’t want to sit at the bar. You’re welcome to join me at my table if you like.”

She ducked free of his hold and headed for her table. He caught her arm and spun her around. Everyone in the bar stopped talking. “I don’t want to sit at your table. You’re going to sit at the bar with me.”

Fear slithered down her spine. His eyes had hardened into small pinpoints of light. What did she have to say to him to get him to leave her alone? She pulled herself up to her full height. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Sammie and Claire start toward her.

“Thank you, no. Now let go of my arm.” She brought her spiked heel down hard on his foot. Jesse jerked back for a second, then lunged for her, swearing under his breath. She danced out of his reach and backed up against a solid wall of muscle behind her. She spun round, and her breath snagged at the sight of the beautiful man who looked angry enough to rip Jesse apart limb by limb.

JD, in full cowboy gear. His brother, Ethan, and Dave stood behind him. All three wore long, leather cowboy coats that glistened with raindrops, black cowboy hats and leather gloves. A wave of heat washed over her, and she leaned toward him as if his magnetism was beyond her control. Her heart hammered so hard she wondered if she was having a heart attack.

“Excuse me.” JD tipped his hat at Jesse, bent over to scoop his arm beneath her knees and flipped her over his shoulder. He placed his large hand on her derriere. “She gets a little out of hand sometimes.” And turned and stomped out of the bar with her.

He hadn’t reached the door before she got her breath back and started pounding on him with her fists wherever she could reach. “If you don’t put me down, I’ll have you arrested,” she snarled in his ear.

“I’d be happy to dump you as soon as I unlock my truck. You’re no lightweight, babe.” With a grunt, he deposited her on her feet beside the truck and pulled open the passenger door. “Get in.”

She folded her arms. “I didn’t need your help. I had everything under control.”

“It’s late, I’m tired and you’re getting soaked. You can yell at me as easily from inside the truck as out here in the rain.”

She didn’t want to be logical. She wanted to yell and stomp around and spill all her frustration about how nothing was going as planned. She wanted control, damn it. But she also didn’t want to get the flu again because she was too stubborn to get out of the rain. She  climbed inside and slammed the door shut.