THE TEXAS WILDCATTER'S BABY (10 page)

He sauntered closer, with exaggerated chivalry. “My mom’s cottage. She didn’t have any Fritos, unfortunately, nor did any of the other guests in adjacent cottages.”

Mortified that he’d been reduced to begging for corn chips at ten-thirty at night, Ginger covered her face with her hand. “Tell me you’re kidding me.”

He shifted even closer, his voice low and sexy. “I kid you not.” She peered at him through spread fingers, aware she had never been this fussed over by any man. “So who
did
have them?”

“Heath and Claire.”

The proprietors of the Red Sage guest ranch.

He slouched against the counter next to her, legs crossed at the ankle, hands on either side of him. “I figured they’ve got kids in elementary who take lunches to school. And what goes better with sandwiches and fruit than chips? So seeing their lights were still on downstairs, I went over to the main house and explained the situation—”

Ginger tore her gaze from his rock-solid chest and abs. “You told them that I was—”

He lifted a hand to her face, gently touching her cheek, and flashed her a crooked smile. “Celebrating the completion of one of your work deadlines. We were all set for Frito pie, only to find out we were fresh out of corn chips. They were happy to give me what they had, although they refused to take cash for it, so we’ll have to replenish their stock tomorrow.”

Ginger paused, still not sure whether she wanted to kiss or scold him. And still the chili bubbled on, filling the cottage with its fragrant spicy smell.

Aware she was still tingling from his brief sensual touch, she took a deep breath. “You’re sure they didn’t guess we were expecting?”

Rand shrugged and wrapped his arm around her shoulders. “They didn’t appear to.”

“Or worse, think we were being ridiculous?”

He kissed her temple, cheerful as ever. “We are newlyweds.”

“Newlywed professionals in our early thirties,” Ginger corrected, telling herself not to read anything into the easy affection in his eyes. “Who should be beyond such silliness.”

Rand paused thoughtfully. “What’s the real problem here?”

“I just don’t want to appear frivolous when I’m trying so hard to get people to take me seriously.”

“First of all,” he said, taking down two stoneware bowls from the cabinet, “no one who knows you thinks you are the least bit ditzy, on any level.” He opened up two packets of chips, and poured them into the bottom of each bowl, then ladled a generous amount of beef chili over top. “Everyone knows how serious and hardworking you are in every respect. But you’re still entitled to enjoy yourself.”

Aware if she were truthful, there was only one way she really wanted to enjoy herself—in his arms, in their bed—Ginger added a healthy sprinkling of cheddar, some fresh chopped tomato, several jalapeño slices and a dollop of sour cream to the fare. “Believe me, I wish I could spend a lot more time having fun than I have lately.”

But Ginger wasn’t sure even that was a good idea.

* * *

T
HEY
CARRIED
THEIR
dinner out onto the back porch and sat side by side on the porch swing. The evening was breezy and cool, with a full moon and stars shining above. Enjoying the time alone with his wife, Rand slanted her a curious glance. “If you want to have more fun, why don’t you take more time to relax?”

Ginger carefully gathered all the ingredients on her spoon. She lifted the steamy concoction to her lips, blew lightly across the top. For a moment she savored the incredible mix of flavor and texture. Rand did the same. From the look on his face, he found the dish as deliciously satisfying as she did.

Finally she allowed, “I can’t afford to goof off when I have so much riding on the drilling rights to this particular oil lease.”

“Maybe too much,” Rand decreed candidly, reminding her with a frown that as important and potentially lucrative as the Boerne lease was, securing it was just
one
job.

There would certainly be other opportunities down the line.

“Since you’ve only really pursued the one property here, why not start vying for leases in some of the other up-and-coming areas, outside of Marfa or Fort Stockton—where I don’t already have contracts to do the environmental screening—from here on out?” Where there would be no conflict of interest between them? Or her and his mother’s company, for that matter?

“If you want to work in those areas, I give you my word that I won’t,” Rand assured her. “And in the interest of family harmony, I’ll get my mother’s company to avoid bidding in that area, too.”

Her expression both reflective and conflicted, Ginger ate a little more, then took a sip of her milk. “I can’t afford to do that.”

“Why not?”

She raked her spoon through the center of her chili, mixing the melted cheddar and sour cream. Finally she muttered, “I guess it’s not as if you won’t find out soon enough anyway.” She pushed a jalapeño pepper to the side, took another bite, sighed. “I have enough money in the trust fund I got from my dad to pay Maria and her drilling crew to work under my direction for thirty days, but that’s it.” Her lips flattened. “We either get a viable flow out of the shale deposits the first time out, or I’m done here.”

“Maria’s company couldn’t pick up the slack?”

“She’s on as much of a shoestring budget as I am. And she has a weekly payroll to meet. She can only afford to work for jobs and people that pay as they go.”

“So you’re stuck. This one job, and that’s it.”

“Yep.”

Taking a long swallow of beer, he studied her quietly. She looked stressed and worried again, none of which was any better for their baby than it was for her. “And it has to be the Boerne lease?” Where the competition was exceptionally fierce. “No other property in the area will do?”

She inhaled deeply. “The satellite imagery, soil samples, and even the ‘creekology’ or lay of the creek beds on the Boerne land are all incredibly positive. I’ve walked that ranch. I can’t explain it except to say that I know in my gut that particular strata of rock is going to produce vast amounts of oil. The other properties in this area might or might not.”

Rand’s mother and grandfather had the same innate talent for scouting out the big energy fields. It was a God-given sixth sense few had, and all wanted. If Ginger had it, too, she was more like his wildcatter family than she realized.

“The challenge will be to get the oil out safely,” she continued soberly, “with as little disruption and damage as possible to the existing ranch.”

Rand knew Ginger was talented enough to do that, too. The big question was, who would the Boernes select? And how would Ginger react if all she had done thus far was for naught? Would she renege on what she’d said so far, take her ex up on his offer and go back to work for Profitt Oil?

Ginger put her empty dish aside. Shivering in the damp evening air, she curled up next to him on the swing. “I’ve spent months courting Dot and Clancy. I’ve thrown all my research and testing budget at this one project. I don’t have enough money to start all over again. If I don’t land this bid with the Boernes, then I’m going to have to call it quits and go back to working for someone else again.”

Rand put his dishes aside, too. He sat back, wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her into the curve of his body. He leaned over and pressed a tender kiss on the top of her head. “And you don’t want to do that,” he ventured.

Ginger continued staring stubbornly at the shield of trees on the other side of the screen. “I want the freedom to pick the jobs that are right for me. And our child. The only way I’ll really be able to do that is if I’m my own boss.”

Another silence fell.

Rand inhaled the familiar soap and shampoo scent of her hair and skin. “Then I hope, at the end of the day, the Boernes pick you.”

Ginger tilted her head to look at him. Wistfulness and something else he couldn’t quite read gleamed in her pretty green eyes. “You mean that,” she acknowledged softly.

Rand nodded. “I’ve already got plenty of work in Summit County. If you’re awarded this lease, more will follow. That would be good for you, good for our baby, good for us.” He threaded his hand through her hair. “And speaking of that, you know what else would be good for us?”

Ginger caught her breath. “I have a feeling you’re going to show me.”

It was all the invitation Rand needed. “You’re right. I am.”

Chapter Ten

Rand shifted Ginger over onto his lap, so she was straddling him, and then pivoted himself to the center of the swing. Hardly believing how good she felt against him, her breasts pressed against his chest, her inner thighs cupping the outside of his, he tipped her face up to his and kissed her long and wet and deep. Kissed her until she fisted both hands in his hair and quivered. “Rand.” She whimpered for more as he slid his hands beneath her shirt, ghosted lovingly over her ribs. “What are you doing?”

He found what he was looking for, the soft, warm swell of breasts, the hard jut of her nipples pressing against the center of his palm. She moaned again at the erotic sensations he dispensed, grinding against him.

Chuckling affectionately, he went on a little tour, kissing, unbuttoning and unfastening. Until her shirt was off, and then so was her bra. And God help him if she wasn’t the most beautiful woman he had ever seen in his entire life.

He bent his head to kiss the tight, puckered tip. Savored the moment as she caught his head in both her hands and held it there. Taking her nipple into his mouth, he quipped, “I’m helping you have a little fun.”

Her head was back, her eyes closed, as he worshiped one breast, then the other. She moaned again when he eased a hand beneath the waistband of her pants and found the most feminine part of her. “This isn’t fun,” she gasped, her hips rocking helplessly. “It’s sex.” Eyes still closed, she shivered in delight, still having enough moxie to protest, “Which happens to be what got us into trouble in the first place!”

Rand recalled all too well the recreational activities they had shared on Valentine’s Day. And the satisfying surrender that had followed... Memories that fueled his fantasies to this day.

Gripping her hips in the way he knew she really liked, he moved her back and forth across his lap, kissing her passionately until she writhed with pleasure and kissed him back. Finally, when she was soft and warm and eager, he lifted his head long enough to stare into her eyes. “I don’t know about you, but I kind of like the trouble we’re in.”

She didn’t respond...she didn’t have to. He could see how she felt even if she wouldn’t yet actually say so.

Shifting her off his lap, and onto the center of the swing, he dropped to his knees. Her green eyes softened all the more and her breath caught as he stripped the rest of her bare and tenderly worshiped the quivering inner skin of her thighs, her navel.

Another moan wrenched from her lips. “Spoken like a man.”

Determined to make her concede it was foolish to stay away from each other physically, the way they had been trying to do, he left a trail of kisses over her lower abdomen, her silky-wet center. Aware he wanted every part of her, he murmured, “You can fib all you want, but I know you want me, too.”

She leaned forward, took his head in her hands and kissed him back in the way he’d been wishing for. “How?” she demanded, stubborn as ever.

“By this.” He touched her erect nipples. Moved lower still, to the dampness between her thighs. “And this.” He moved his fingers in the way she liked, until she pulsated. “And this.”

“So I’m weak...” She arched against him pliantly, still kissing him. “At least,” she whispered, “where you’re concerned...”

He moved her hand to the proof of his desire, wanting, needing her to feel what she did to him, too. “Then that makes two of us,” he told her gruffly, “because I can’t resist you, either....”

Ginger knew she could have let Rand possess her then. They would have both climaxed, and could have called it a night. But she didn’t want it to be over, didn’t want him having all the fun. All the control. So she stripped him naked, too. Made him take a turn on the swing while she found new and inventive ways to pleasure him. And only when he put his hands beneath her bottom and tugged her to him, did she straddle him again. Only when he kissed her with the passion that had been so sorely missing from their married life, did he fill her with one smooth stroke, pressing into her with such perfection that she cried out from the sheer pleasure of it. Only then did she let him send her spiraling again, and only then, when she was at the pinnacle of desire, did he follow.

To their mutual pleasure, the aftershocks were as potent as their lovemaking had been. Letting them know that once again they had risked it all. Just to be together again.

Trembling, Ginger clung to Rand.

She couldn’t believe she had done this. Again. Let her heart get miles ahead of her head, let them risk such disappointment. But she had. Worse, she wasn’t sure what she was going to do about it.

Because getting this close to each other—and they were becoming more enraptured with every passing moment—was not part of their original agreement.

* * *

G
INGER
WAS
STILL
in bed the next morning, nibbling on a saltine and taking long slow breaths in through her nose and releasing out through her mouth, when Rand strolled in.

As usual, he had hit the complimentary daily breakfast buffet at the main house, and had thoughtfully brought something back for her. This morning, it was spinach and artichoke quiche, fruit compote and a decaf latte. He set the repast on the night table beside her bed.

The aroma, pleasant as it was, sent her severely challenged equilibrium even closer to the edge.

Looking sexy as ever in a T-shirt and jeans, Rand sat on the edge of their bed. “Your mom called. She wants us to have dinner with her this evening.”

Reminding herself that she had successfully battled the malady thus far, Ginger struggled to contain her nausea. “Just us, or is your mom invited, too?”

“It’ll be the four of us.”

She wiped a bead of sweat from her temple. “This is starting to be a regular thing. Although I’m not so sure it’s a good thing.”

Her mother was too nosey; his mom too observant and astute.

He grinned in agreement and offered her a hand. The moment Ginger sat all the way up she knew she was in trouble. She shoved him out of the way and, hand to her mouth, ran for the bathroom.

By the time she finished, tears were streaming from her eyes. Afraid to venture too far from the commode, she sank down on the cool tile. Rand knelt beside her. He placed a cold wet towel on the back of her neck, and handed her another for her face.

“So much for jalapeños,” Ginger joked weakly in an effort to cover her humiliation.

He shoved the damp hair from her forehead, agreeing gently, “So much for morning sickness....”

Amen to that, Ginger thought. What a horrible way to start the day.

He slid her another tender look, then rose and returned a second later with a glass of ice water and lemon slices. “That’s supposed to help.”

“Reading up again?” She took a cautious sip.

He gently helped her to her feet. “I like to be prepared for whatever comes my way. And since you admitted you’d been feeling nauseated the last few weeks...”

Ginger paused at the sink to brush her teeth and rinse with a mint-flavored mouthwash. With his arm around her waist, she made her way back to bed. She sank onto the rumpled sheets, wishing she hadn’t just disgraced herself in front of him. Talk about sexy...

She was glad he was there anyway. Just having him near made her feel better. She let her gaze drift over every ruggedly handsome inch of him. “You’re too gallant for your own good. You know that?”

The faint hint of a smile curved of his lips. “What can I say?” He covered the back of her hand with his. “It’s a family trait all the McCabe men share.” His grip was warm and comforting. Sighing inwardly, Ginger turned her palm over, so she could hold on to him.

The moment drew out.

Another inscrutable look. A tantalizing grin.

Her nipples peaked. “You can’t possibly be thinking what I think you’re thinking,” she accused.

But he was.

“See?” His voice was low and a little rough. He kissed the back of her hand, the inside of her wrist. “I’m not so gentlemanly, after all. Especially when this is one of our rare mutual days off.” He worked his way up to her elbow. “Besides, what better way to get that newlywed glow going before we see the two moms?”

She stared down at the sight of his lips on her skin. Their lovemaking the night before had been enough to have her falling in love with him. Another bout might make it last forever.

And the vows that bound them together were not the everlasting kind.

Determined to protect both of them, from as much hurt and disappointment as possible, Ginger curled a hand around his biceps. “Actually, there is something else that needs to be done before we see our mothers.”

Intrigued, he lifted a brow and gestured for her to continue.

“We need to finish drawing up the terms of our marriage contract.” It was only half done and at this rate, they’d never be ready for their next meeting with the family law attorney.

Her suggestion had the effect of a bucket of cold water poured over his head. His expression went from playful to recalcitrant, just like that. “You really want to do that today?” Before they ended up making love again?

“Yes, I do. So....” Resolutely, she tossed back the covers, went to the fridge, came back with their half-finished list and a pen. “Let’s get started.”

* * *

“W
HAT
HAVE
THE
two of you been doing today?” Cordelia asked when Rand and Ginger met up with the two moms at the Summit Inn.

“Working on our postnup,” Ginger said.

Cordelia and Josie exchanged glances rife with maternal concern.

Not wanting to get into that again, Ginger asked the moms the same question.

Josie said, “Preparing for the Q and A session with the Boernes. I know we haven’t won anything yet—”

But she expected her company to win. Ginger expected Wyatt Drilling to make it to the semifinals, too. Everyone did.

“It just makes sense to be prepared,” his mom finished.

Abruptly, Ginger wondered if she should have been doing the same instead of just waiting around for the announcement. She hadn’t been worried about the Q and A; to date, she’d spent so long engineering her oil-recovery plan she knew the facts of her proposal inside and out. Maria was equally prepared to discuss the actual drilling process.

Ready to learn from one of the best, however, since she now had access to Texas’s most famous lady wildcatter, Ginger looked at Josie. “If you don’t mind my asking, how do you get ready for that?”

“I have someone on my team grill me.”

Ginger’s mom looked at her. “I could do that for you,” Cordelia offered.

“That would be fine, Mom. But I really need to get someone who knows the ins and outs of oil exploration. Like Maria, my drilling partner.”

“Oh.” Cordelia briefly looked hurt. Her next idea hit just as suddenly. “Rand can’t do it?” she asked with all the tenacity of a veteran helicopter mom.

Ginger shook her head. “There’s a firewall between us. We can’t discuss the bids.”

Josie conceded, “I can’t help her, either, since my company is competing against hers.”

Cordelia turned back to her daughter. “Maybe you should take this as a sign, then, and just drop out.”

“No!” Rand, Ginger and Josie all said in unison.

Ginger knew her mom meant well; that didn’t necessarily help. “I’ve gone too far for that, Mom,” she explained with as much patience as she could muster. “Now, what did you want to tell us this evening?”

“Actually, it’s what I’d like to show you. So if you don’t mind coming along for the ride—” Cordelia ushered them all into her Cadillac.

“I have to tell you, I have really fallen in love with this little town,” Cordelia said as she drove to a Craftsman-style home on Oak Street.

Ginger immediately recognized it as one of the homes in the Realtor brochures Rand had been perusing the evening before. Except now there was a “sold” sticker across the front of the yard sign.

Cordelia parked in the driveway and got out. “Let’s go in, shall we?”

Ginger had a sinking feeling. “Mom.” Ignoring Rand and Josie McCabe’s perplexed expressions, she dug in her heels. “What did you do?”

Cordelia waved her hand dismissively. “I want you to see the inside first.”

Feeling a migraine coming on, Ginger pressed her hands to her head. “Tell me you didn’t buy this for us as some sort of an over-the-top wedding gift.”

Cordelia affirmed, “I didn’t buy it for you.”

Ginger’s whole body sagged in relief.

The older woman turned the key in the lock and opened the door onto one of the nicest interiors Ginger had ever seen. She turned with a smile, announcing, “I bought it for me.”

* * *

R
AND
HAD
NO
idea what to say. Nor, if their expressions were any indication, did his mother or his wife.

“You bought this home,” Josie repeated to Cordelia, as if saying the words out loud would somehow shed light on the situation.

Cordelia walked through the spacious, well-lit rooms. “Initially, I wanted a place to stay when I’m in town, visiting.” She turned, admiring the sunny yellow walls and gleaming wood floors. “Then I thought about how far the drive was between San Angelo and Summit, a good four hours under the best of circumstances, sometimes a lot more. And the fact that there are no easy commuter flights between the two places. So I decided I would move here instead.”

Ginger stared at her mother, all the color draining from her face. “Tell me you didn’t quit your job.”

“I quit my job.”

Josie’s hand flew to her heart.

At least his mom knew what a mistake this was, Rand thought wryly.

“But only because I got one here,” a beaming Cordelia continued.

“Where?”

“With Claire McPherson—at the Red Sage guest ranch.”

Coincidentally, Rand thought, where he and Ginger were now living.

“Apparently, they’re short-staffed for events in their party barn. And with the busy summer season coming up, she was delighted to have me on board.”

Ginger slumped down on the staircase. She looked so wobbly, Rand sat beside her and put his arm around her.