A Texas Soldier's Family. Cathy Thacker Gillen

she were the most wonderful woman on Earth. But that was exactly what he was doing, as he stroked his hand through her hair and, with his other palm flattened against her spine, guided her closer until her breasts were pressed against the unyielding hardness of his chest. Lower still, she felt the heat in his thighs and the building desire. And knew her life had just begun to get hopelessly complicated...

      * * *

      GARRETT HADN’T COME out to the ranch thinking they would be alone for one single second. Hadn’t figured he would ever act on the need that had consumed him since the second her bottom landed square on his lap, the softness of her breasts pushing into his face.

      Oh, he’d known he wanted her from the instant he had seen her checking him out in the DC airport. She was just so gorgeous, so haughty and unreachable in that all-business way of hers.

      Seeing she had an infant whom she cared deeply for, knowing she was irrevocably wedded to life in Texas while he was not, had added yet another reason he should keep his hands off.

      He might have managed it, too, if she hadn’t been working so hard to curtail the attraction she so obviously felt.

      Because Hope was right about one thing. Her denial had brought out the alpha male in him. Made him want to pursue her like she had never been pursued before.

      That pursuit, in turn, had kindled his own raging desire. And then she had kissed him back, her tongue entwined with his in a way that could bring him to his knees and one day, hopefully, land them both in bed.

      Luckily for the two of them she came to her senses and pushed him away. Breathing raggedly, she stepped back, a gut-wrenching turmoil in her low tone he hadn’t expected. “I can’t do this.”

      Pressing her hand to her kiss-swollen lips, she shook her head. “I can’t lose everything because of one reckless moment. Not again.”

      * * *

      SILENCE FELL BETWEEN THEM, as awful and wrenching as her voice. Mortified, Hope yanked open her car door and climbed behind the wheel.

      Garrett walked to the passenger side and pulled himself in beside her. “When did that happen?”

      Hope concentrated on starting the engine. Driving, the normalcy of it, would help. She looked behind her, then backed up until she reached the gravel road that led to the barns. “I shouldn’t have said that.”

      “And I shouldn’t have kissed you,” Garrett admitted gruffly, his big body filling up the passenger compartment the way no one else ever had. “But now that I did, and you kissed me back...”

      He shrugged like a soldier on leave.

      As if the fact that he had just returned from a war zone entitled him to something. Namely, a woman willing to have a fling.

      She had found out the hard way, however, through her ill-advised liaison with Max’s daddy, that woman was not her.

      “That shouldn’t have happened, either,” she said stiffly, as the SUV wound past the damaged wooden fence to the lone building a distance away from everything.

      She didn’t have to guess what it was.

      A sign next to the door of the cedar-sided, tin-roofed building said Circle H Ranch Bunkhouse.

      A bright red welcome mat stood in front of the heavy wooden door. Pots of flowers, a couple of small tables and some rough-hewn Adirondack chairs decorated the front porch. Lamps, emitting a soft yellow glow on either side of the entry had been turned on.

      If the inviting exterior was any indication of the inside of the domicile, then Lucille had been right, they would be comfortable here.

      Hope cut the engine and got out of the car. Quietly, she opened the rear passenger door, unfastened Max’s safety seat from the base of the restraint and lifted him out. To her relief, her sweet little boy slept blissfully on.

      Garrett grabbed the diaper bag and went on ahead, to find the key that had been left beneath the mat. “Is all this because you’re working for my mother?” He reached inside and switched the interior lights on.

      “Believe it or not—” Hope squared her shoulders as she passed “—working for your mother doesn’t include making out with you.”

      * * *

      GARRETT WAS PRETTY sure Hope hadn’t meant to say that. Any more than she’d meant to do anything she had the last fifteen minutes or so. Nevertheless, he was pleased to see her letting down her guard. He wanted to get to know the real Hope Winslow, not the sophisticated facade she showed the world.

      He watched as she set the carrier holding her sleeping infant down. “I won’t interfere with that. Well, no more than I would have, anyway.”

      She smiled at him as if they hadn’t just brought each other’s bodies roaring back to life. “Good to know, Captain.”

      Together, they took a quick tour of the newly renovated bunkhouse.

      The central part of the structure included an open-concept kitchen with a breakfast bar that looked out onto the great room, complete with a TV and U-shaped sofa and a large plank table with a dozen chairs plus an arm chair on each end. On each side of it was a hallway that led to three bedrooms. All six bedrooms were outfitted identically, with a queen-sized bed, desk, dresser and private bath. His mom had been right, Garrett noted. They all could be very comfortable here.

      Except for the awareness simmering between Hope and him...

      “I don’t understand why you think it would matter if we did become...closer. I’m not the one employing you—my mother is.”

      Hope sighed, apparently appreciating his use of the least offensive word he could think of. “It would still look bad.”

      “And that concerns you, how things look?”

      “Yes.” Stepping closer, she slid him a surprised glance. “Doesn’t it concern you?”

      He exhaled his exasperation. “Not really. Something is either right or it’s wrong. What we just experienced felt very right.”

      Hope turned away as if they hadn’t just shared an embrace that had rocked his world. “It doesn’t matter,” she said, as if to a four-year-old. “Scandal management is all about appearances.”

      Ah, appearances. The bane of his youth.

      He moved close enough to see the frustration glimmering in her eyes.

      Her elegant features tinged an emotional pink, she said, “I just started my own firm. Your mother’s scandal is the first crisis I’m handling, solo. It has to go well.”

      Of course business came first with her.

      “Or?”

      She sighed, completely vulnerable now as she met his gaze, seeming on the verge of tears. “Or my reputation really will be ruined.”

      That was almost as hard to believe as the way he was suddenly feeling about her, as if she might just be worth sticking around for. He moved closer yet. Seeing it was a tear trembling just beneath her lower lash, he lifted a thumb, gently brushed it away. “Over one job?” And one very long, satisfying kiss that had led him to want so much more?

      She swallowed, stepped back. The tenderness he felt for her doubled.

      “I made a mistake when I was working for my previous employer.”

      He couldn’t imagine it being as calamitous as she was making it out to be. It was all he could do not to take her back in his arms. “What happened?”

      For a second he thought she wouldn’t answer, then she apparently thought better of it—maybe because she knew in this day and age almost anything could be researched on the internet.

      Hope turned and walked back out to her SUV. She lifted out the pack-n-play, handed it off to him, then pulled out a box of diapers and a bag of baby necessities. “I got involved with a