Runaway Lone Star Bride. Cathy Thacker Gillen

      He walked out of the office, just as a long, loud, enraged wail broke the office silence. He returned with an adorable baby boy cradled in his arms.

      * * *

      MAGGIE COULD NOT stop staring. For one thing, the little fella, who looked to be approximately eighteen months old, appeared to have been crying for a good long time before drifting off to sleep. His forehead bore a crease on one side, where he had pressed against something. His big blue eyes were swollen and puffy, his cherubic little face an indignant red and streaked with a mixture of the same crumbly matter Hart had stuck to his shirt. The tyke’s sandy brown curls were sticky and tangled, matted with what appeared to be a combination of spit-up, crushed crackers and apple juice. All in all, Maggie couldn’t help but note, the baby boy in Hart’s arms was having a terrible day. Evidenced by the way he continued to sob, as if his little heart were breaking.

      Instinctively, Maggie drew nearer. She knew it was none of her business, and certainly not her responsibility, but she could not bear to see a little one in such distress. “Who is this?” she cooed, gently touching the back of the child’s head.

      “My son. Henry,” Hart had to shout to be heard above the loud wailing.

      Hart had a baby? Maggie thought in shock, resisting the strong maternal urge to take the tyke in her arms and soothe all his unhappiness away. Since when? “He apparently hates traveling,” Hart continued, shifting the inconsolable little boy carefully in his arms. With his free hand, he dragged a stroller and diaper bag from the hallway. “And it feels like he’s got a really soggy diaper.”

      No kidding, Maggie thought, looking at the dampness dripping out of the little boy’s summer overalls onto Hart’s shirt.

      Deciding the time for politeness had passed, she said officiously, “Well, let’s see what we can do about that.” Maggie grabbed the diaper bag from the handle of the stroller and carried it over to a small sofa in the corner of her office. Then she plucked a rolled plastic mat from the bottom of the bag and laid it across the upholstery. After adding a few other essentials, she gestured for Hart to put his son down.

      Henry, who had been struggling incessantly in his daddy’s arms, went willingly onto the temporary changing area.

      Maggie stepped back to let Hart do the honors.

      A mistake.

      Henry used the time to flip over onto his stomach and crawl swiftly to the other side of the sofa.

      Worried he was going to fall off the edge and tumble onto the hardwood floor, Maggie dove after him. She caught Henry just as he neared the slipping point, and with her hands tucked gently but firmly about his midriff, she brought him up into her arms.

      The baby stopped crying long enough to stare at her warily, as if thinking: Friend or Foe?

      Maggie wrinkled her nose and said softly, “Hey there, Henry, I’m Maggie.”

      Henry shoved the thumb on his left hand into his mouth. He sucked it noisily. Still cradling him tenderly in her arms, she sat down on the sofa. “How about you and I get that soggy, wet diaper off, and maybe some clean clothes on, too,” Maggie proposed softly. “So you’ll be all comfy again.” Gently, she placed Henry down onto the padded vinyl diaper-changing pad.

      Ignoring the man to her left, who had backed up to give her room to work, Maggie kept her eyes on the baby. She could feel the intensity of Hart’s attention, though, hot as a firecracker on the Fourth of July.... “What do you say, Henry?” Maggie let go of the tyke with one hand long enough to reach for the snaps on the legs of his overalls designed to make diaper changing easier.

      She was not going to allow herself to fall in love with this cute little whippersnapper, the way she did every baby that came her way. And she was certainly not going to fall for his equally good-looking daddy. It didn’t matter how many times she’d thought of the rugged ex-soldier-turned-personal-security-expert since they last met.

      “Are you up for it, little guy?”

      Henry removed the thumb from his mouth, decision made. “No!” he said loudly and distinctly. He flipped onto his tummy again.

      Maggie gently brought Henry back around. “Sure about that?” she teased, already working off her wristwatch with her free hand. She dangled it in front of him and continued in a cheery singsong voice. “I’ve got something for you.”

      Unable to resist the temptation of sparkling silver and gold, Henry reached for the accordion-style band. Maggie let him have it, and only when he was holding the wristwatch with both hands, avidly examining the face of it closely, did she quickly undo the snaps and ease the diaper off.

      A short minute and a half later, Henry was good to go.

      The boy was a little antsy, probably from being cooped up for too long. Maggie set him down on the floor and guided him to the open toy and play area adjacent to her office. He toddled happily into the carpeted area with the miniature chairs and table, obviously grateful for the chance to explore.

      Satisfied the child would be fine for the moment, Maggie turned back to his daddy. And that was when she saw what Hart had been up to, too. She stared at broad shoulders and a very fine chest. Equally nice abs. And an arrow of dusky brown-gold hair sliding down into the waistband of his pants. She couldn’t help the gasp that escaped from her lips. “You took off your shirt!”

      He shrugged. “It was soaking wet and smelled like pee. What would you have me do?”

      Maggie gulped, as her nipples tautened once again. Lower still, there was an even more treacherous reaction. “Put on another?”

      He met her chastising glance with a boyish, devil-may-care smile. “I would if I had one handy, but I don’t.” He peered at her closely. Moved nearer, too. “Why?” His seductive grin broadened. “Does the sight of my bare chest bother you?”

      Maggie threw up her hands in aggravation. “Would the sight of my bare chest bother you?” she shot right back.

      “Actually, now that you mention it...” He tilted his handsome head to one side, considered her a long, sensual moment. “I might enjoy the view.

      Maggie was sure he would. “Well! This is hardly the time or place for this,” she fumed. “Especially when you have a baby to take care of.”

      At the mention of Henry, Hart sobered. “You’re right. This should come later.”

      And that was when the outer door opened, and Maggie’s next appointment of the day walked in.

      For a moment, the affianced couple just stared, as if wondering what in the world they’d interrupted.

      Then Hart flashed a sexy grin, and quickly discarded the soiled diaper. “My son had a little accident that somehow ended up on me, and Maggie was kind enough to help us out.” Hart rolled the damp clothing up into a ball, tucked it under one arm, walked over to the play area and reached for Henry. “And now that she has,” he said, “we’ll get out of your way. And let the three of you get down to business.”

      * * *

      LYNETTE JAWORSKI AND Ben Bauer were in their early twenties and, from the looks of it, head over heels in love with each other in a way that Maggie had never been.

      Pushing aside her pang of envy, she offered them a seat, then said graciously, “I understand you’re getting married next April and are considering the Double Knot as a venue.”

      Lynette took Ben’s hand. “Actually, we’re only here because my parents insisted we see it.”

      Outside, Henry began to wail. Maggie struggled to keep her mind on business.

      Ben continued, “We don’t want what happened to that one couple to happen to us.”

      There was no need to ask what Ben and Lynette were talking about; Maggie knew all too well.

      Without warning, Hart walked back in, clean casual shirt on, a tearful Henry