The Cowboy and His Baby (24 page)
Read The Cowboy and His Baby Online
Authors: Sherryl Woods
Cody relinquished his hold on her with obvious reluctance. He stood patiently by as she was kissed and congratulated by all the others. Harlan grabbed a
paper cup and filled it with lukewarm water from the tap.
“A toast, everyone,” he announced.
When they all had their own cups of water, he lifted his cup. “To Cody and Melissa. This marriage was a long time coming. There were times I despaired of the two of you ever realizing that you belong together. Now that you have, we wish you every happiness for all the years to come.”
“Hear, hear,” Jordan and Luke echoed. “Much happiness, baby brother.”
“Now it's my turn to kiss the bride,” Harlan declared, giving her a resounding smack on the cheek.
Cody stole between them. “Get your own bride, old man. This one is mine.”
“Maybe I will,” Harlan said, startling them all.
Cody, Jordan and Luke stared at him in openmouthed astonishment while their wives all chuckled with delight.
“Do it,” Melissa whispered in his ear, standing on tiptoe to give him a kiss. “Find a bride and live happily ever after. No one deserves it more. Mary would want that for you.”
She had a feeling that when Harlan Adams set his mind to finding a woman to share his life, he was going to set all of Texas on its ear. And his sons were going to have the time of their lives getting even for all the grief he'd given them over their own love lives. Melissa was thrilled that she was going to be right in the thick of it all, where she'd always dreamed of being.
Her mother and father came over to her then. “You happy, ladybug?” her father asked.
She clung tightly to Cody's hand and never took her gaze from his as she whispered, “Happier than I thought possible.”
“About time,” her mother huffed.
Cody leaned down and kissed her soundly. “Stop fussing, Velma.” He grinned unrepentantly at her mother's expression of shock. “One of these days you're going to admit it,” he taunted.
“Admit what?”
“That you're crazy about me.”
Her mother scowled. “You're too sure of yourself, Cody Adams. Somebody's got to keep you in line.”
He turned his gaze on Melissa then. “And I know just the woman to do it,” he said softly.
“What if I don't want to keep you in line?” Melissa asked. “I kind of like your roguish ways.”
“Told you she didn't have a lick of sense where that boy was concerned,” Velma announced loudly.
Melissa glanced at her mother just then and winked. After a startled instant, her mother chuckled despite herself and winked right back. She tucked her arm through her husband's and added, “Married one just like him myself.”
“Then I guess Cody and I are going to be okay, aren't we, Mother?”
Her mother glanced pointedly at Sharon Lynn and the new baby. “Looks to me like you've got quite a head start on it.”
Cody brushed a kiss across her cheek. “Indeed, we do.”
Everyone began leaving after that. Finally Melissa was alone with her husband. “I love you,” she told him.
“I love you,” he echoed. His expression turned serious. “Do you really think Daddy's going to start courting?”
“Sounded to me as if he meant what he said. How would you feel about that?”
Cody hesitated for a minute, then grinned. “Seems like a damned fine opportunity to get even with him, if you ask me.”
“That's what I love about you Adams men,” Melissa taunted. “You are so supportive of each other.”
“You don't think he deserves to be taken on a merry chase?”
“By some woman,” she admonished. “Not by you, Luke and Jordan.”
He sighed and folded his arms around her middle from behind. His breath fanned across her cheek. “I suppose standing on the sidelines and watching him fall will have its moments,” he agreed. “He sure seemed to get a kick out of watching that happen to the rest of us.”
“Then I suggest you prepare yourself for the ride,” she told him. “Knowing Harlan, it's going to be a bumpy one.”
“As for you and me,” Cody proclaimed, “from here on out it's going to be smooth sailing.”
* * * * *
Keep reading for an excerpt from
WILLOW BROOK ROAD
by Sherryl Woods.
“Sherryl Woods writes emotionally satisfying novels about family, friendship and home. Truly feel-great reads!”
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Willow Brook Road
(October 1, 2015)
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by Sherryl Woods
1
T
he original Mick O'Brienâdesigned cottage on Willow Brook Road had been built with weathered gray shingles, white trim and a tiny back porch barely big enough for two rockers side by side. They faced Willow Brook, which fed into the Chesapeake Bay. The backyard sloped gently to the brook, with the graceful branches of a trademark weeping willow touching the lawn at the water's edge. The peaceful setting was just right for quiet conversation or relaxing with a good book.
In front the cottage featured a small yard with an actual white picket fence and a climbing yellow rosebush that tumbled over it with a profusion of fragrant blooms. Bright red and hot-pink geraniums filled pots on the stoop in a vibrant display of clashing colors. The property oozed picturesque charm.
With three cozy bedrooms and a fireplace in the living room and a surprisingly large eat-in kitchen, it was the perfect Chesapeake Shores vacation getaway or a starter home for a small family, but Carrie Winters had been living there alone and at loose ends for almost six months now. The only personal touch she'd added beyond the mismatched furniture she'd acquired from various family attics was the portrait of the whole O'Brien family taken at the Christmas wedding of her twin, Caitlyn.
These days, sitting in one of those rockers for more than a minute or two made her antsy. After two years in a pressure-cooker public relations job at which she'd excelled, being idle was a new experience, and one she didn't particularly like. She was too distracted for reading anything deeper than the local weekly newspaper. And though she loved to cook, making fancy meals for one person just left her feeling lonely.
Worst of all, she seemed incapable of motivating herself to get out of this funk she'd been in ever since coming home. Chesapeake Shores might be where she wantedâor even
needed
âto be as she tried to piece her life back together and reevaluate her priorities, but it had created its own sort of pressure.
While the rest of the O'Brien clan was unmistakably worried about her, her grandfather Mick was bordering on frantic. O'Briens did not waste time or wallow in self-pity, which was exactly what Carrie had been doing ever since the breakup of her last relationship. Timed to coincide with the crash-and-burn demolition of her career in the fashion industry, the combination had sent her fleeing from Paris and straight back to her loving family.
Carrie sighed and took a first sip of the one glass of wine she allowed herself at the end of the day. Wallowing was one thing. Getting tipsy all alone was something else entirely. Even she was wise enough to see that.
An image of Marc Reynolds, the fashion-world icon she'd thought she loved, crept into her head, as it did about a hundred times a day. That was down from about a million when she'd first flown home from Europe after the breakup. If it could even be called that, she thought wryly. Truthfully, she'd finally realized that Marc thought of her more as a convenient bed partner and workhorse whose public relations efforts for his fashion empire had helped to put it on the fast track to international acclaim. Unbeknownst to her, his heart apparently belonged to a she-devil, self-absorbed model who treated him like dirt. Carrie could relate, since Marc had pretty much done the same to her. She was still struggling to understand how her judgment could possibly have been so clouded that she hadn't seen that sooner. Surely the signs had been there. Had she been so besotted she'd missed them? If so, how could she possibly trust her instincts about a man again?
Not that she was going to let
that
be an issue anytime soon. She was swearing off the male of the species until she figured out who she was and what she truly wanted. At the rate she was progressing on that front, it could take years.
Enough!
she told herself firmly, carrying her almost-full glass inside and stepping over a scattering of toys as she went. She smiled as she picked up a floppy-eared bunny and set it gently in a chair. A stack of children's picture books sat on a nearby table.
Taking care of her twin sister's little boy, Jackson McIlroy, was about the only thing that gave her a sense of fulfillment these days. With Caitlyn serving a medical internship at Johns Hopkins, and Caitlyn's husband, Noah, running an increasingly busy family medicine practice here in town, Carrie had volunteered for day-care duty whenever they needed her. More and more often they'd come to rely on her, which suited her just fine, but seemed to be making everyone else in her driven family a little crazy. Babysitting wasn't considered a suitable career goal for the granddaughter of the town's founder.
She picked up a few more toys, put them in the brightly colored toy box she'd painted herself one particularly dreary winter day, then grabbed her purse and walked into town. Ten minutes later she was at O'Brien's, the Irish pub her second cousin Luke had opened a few years back. She knew she'd find a good meal there, even if it came with a serving of family meddling from whichever O'Brien happened to be around.
