His Baby Bargain. Cathy Gillen Thacker

His mom hoped for a lot more than occasionally getting him off the Silver Creek spread. “She only did that because...”

      Sara beamed, turning on the full wattage of her neighborly charm. “What?”

      He edged closer. “She knows I’m attracted to you.”

      She laughed in disbelief, the ambivalent sound filling the air between them. Her lower lip took on a kissable pout. “You’re just saying that to get me to leave.”

      He surveyed her indignant expression. Leaned in closer. “Is it working?”

      The look in her eyes grew turbulent. “No.”

      He dropped his head. “Then how about this?” he taunted softly, taking her in his arms.

      Rather than step away, she put her hand on the center of his chest, and gave him a small, purposeful shove.

      That sent him exactly nowhere.

      “No.” She glared at him heatedly. “But nice try, cowboy.”

      He reluctantly let her go and stepped back, his own temper flaring. “Then maybe you should rethink this plan you and my mom cooked up. Because I’m not the guy who’s going to treat you with kid gloves, darlin’.” And he was pretty sure, at the end of the day, that was what Sara wanted.

      Her eyes narrowed. “I don’t want you to treat me with kid gloves.”

      He came back to her, took her in his arms again and lowered his lips, just above hers.

      Damn, if she didn’t make him feel ornery.

      He smiled as she caught her breath. “Sure about that?” He rubbed the pad of his thumb across her lower lip.

      Her brows furrowed as she began to see where this standoff between them was likely headed. “Yes,” she said, stubborn as ever, trembling even as she held her ground.

      Loving the delicate feel of her body so close to his, he asked, “Really sure?”

      “Completely sure,” she taunted right back. “In fact, cowboy,” she went on to dare in spunky delight, “you could kiss me and—”

      The gauntlet had been thrown down between them.

      Matt never gave her a chance to blurt out the rest.

      His mouth touched hers, laying claim to every sweet soft inch. Only, the indignant slap he expected—the one that would have heralded his immediate gentlemanly release of her, and her quick, fiery exit—never came.

      * * *

      Sara told herself to resist the sensual feel of his lips moving over hers. But her body refused to listen to the wary dictates of her heart. She had been numb inside for so long. Responsive only to the needs of her adorable infant son.

      Now, suddenly, she was alive in a way she had never expected to be again. The yearning to be touched, held, appreciated for the woman she was came roaring back. Made her tingle all over. Opening her lips to his, she pressed closer to the unyielding hardness of his chest, and, lower still, felt his undeniable heat and building desire. With a low moan of surrender, she went up on tiptoe, wreathed her arms about his neck and tilted her head to give him deeper access. He uttered a low moan of approval. His tongue twined with hers. He brought her nearer still, delivering a kiss that scored her soul. Left her limp with longing and trembling with acquiescence. Her middle fluttering, she melted against him. And then all was lost, as she experienced the masculine force that was Matt. For the first time in her life, she was with a man who didn’t hesitate to give her the complete physicality she craved and had always longed to explore. Excitement roaring through her, she reveled in the thrill of his commanding embrace. The hard, insistent pressure of his kiss, and the tantalizing sweep of his tongue; for the very first time in her life, she experienced the temptation to surrender herself completely. Forget her worries about the future. Live only in the moment she was in.

      Had her life not already been so complicated—full of the grief and guilt she still felt for not doing as much as she could have, or should have, when she’d still had the chance—and had she not intuited that Matt’s own private world was much the same as hers and her husband’s had once been, who knew what might have happened had their make-out session continued on this brisk and sunny spring day?

      But they did both harbor secrets and heartache.

      And combining the two would only risk further hurt. For her, for him, for her baby boy.

      So she did what she should have done all along, and finally put her hand on the center of his chest and tore her lips from his.

      Just that quickly, Matt let her go.

      They stared at each other, breathing hard. To her surprise, he looked every bit as shaken as she felt.

      Compelled to save them both and downplay this, however, she took another step back. Gave a hapless shrug, looked into his eyes and said, “Just so you know, cowboy, you’re not the first man who’s made a move on me since Anthony died.”

      He was the first one who’d made her feel something, though. Too much, actually. Way too much.

      Emotion warred with the skepticism in his eyes. “Trying to make me feel competitive?”

      No! Heck, no! Sara thought, chagrined. “I’m just saying,” she returned as calmly as possible, “I wasn’t interested then. And I’m not interested now.”

      The corners of his lips turned up as his gaze raked her luxuriantly, head to toe. “Your kisses just said otherwise, darlin’.”

      Once again, she shook her head. Embarrassed. Humiliated. And worst of all, still wildy turned on. Swallowing around the ache in her throat, she held his eyes deliberately and corrected him. “My kisses said I’m human, Matt.” Human and oh so lonely, deep down. So ready to get out of my own misery and help someone else in need. Like you, Matt. And how crazy is that?

      She waited a moment to let her words sink in. Then said, “As are we all.”

      It didn’t mean she had to be a fool for a second time.

      And especially not with the far too irresistible Matt McCabe.

       Chapter Two

      “Is this a good time?” Matt asked, from the porch of Sara’s Blue Vista Ranch house the following Saturday afternoon.

      For you, Matt McCabe, Sara thought, still reeling from the hot, audacious kisses he had delivered the last time they’d seen each other, there will never be a good time. Not ever again.

      But not about to let him know how much he had affected her, or how often and passionately she’d thought of him over the last week, she merely looked him up and down.

      The reality was, he was the last person she had expected to see standing on her doorstep, given how acrimoniously they had last parted.

      But here he was, as mouthwateringly handsome as ever. Looking mighty fine in a blue button-down shirt that made the most of his brawny shoulders and rock-solid abs. New jeans that did equally appetizing things to his long, muscular legs and hips, and shiny brown boots. He’d shaved and showered, too, although his thick, wavy dark brown hair was just as unruly as she’d come to expect. His dark gray-blue eyes just as wryly challenging.

      “Depends on why you’re here,” she replied tartly, wishing she were clad in something other than a peach tunic and white yoga pants stained with drool and baby formula. She looked down her nose at him, pausing to make sure he knew just how unwelcome he was. “If it’s to pick up where we left off last week...”

      His sensual lips lifted into a tantalizing smile. Excitement lit his eyes. “Kissing you?”

      She flushed at the memory of his delicious body pressed against hers, his lips stirring up needs best forgotten. She was a widow, after