The Texan's Baby. Donna Alward

the baby yet. Especially now, when my dad...”

      Her voice broke. Brock Baron was a crusty old bugger but he was her daddy and she still idolized him, faults and all. She stood up and suddenly her head felt light.

      “Hey, Eliz...Lizzie, are you okay? You’re white as a sheet.”

      She nodded and mustered up a smile. “I forgot to eat lunch is all, and got a bit light-headed.” Which was a complete lie—she’d thrown up her breakfast and then by noon had been ravenous, wolfing down a bacon cheeseburger like a linebacker. Something about the red meat particularly appealed right now. But that was hours ago.

      “I don’t think you should be driving all that way by yourself. You’re upset. Let me drive you.”

      She clutched the handle of her bag. “And throw you into the mix with my family? Not a chance.”

      “You can argue with me and waste time or you can say ‘yes, Christopher’ in that formal voice of yours and we can be on the highway in five minutes.”

      “I’m fine.”

      He raised an eyebrow.

      Who knew the man could be so stubborn? “You can’t order me around.” She reached in the bag and found her keys, looping them around her finger. “And don’t even try forcing my hand by bringing this secret into it.”

      Chris went up to her then, close enough she could see the little gold flecks in his rich brown eyes. Close enough she could smell his aftershave and close enough she could reach out and touch his strong chest if she wanted to.

      Which she didn’t. But if she did...

      “Of course I’ll do no such thing. But I will appeal to your common sense. I want you to be safe. The last thing your family needs is more bad news because you drove too fast or were distracted.”

      She was plenty distracted at the moment. Currently she was staring at his lips and remembering one glorious night in a discount motel room...

      “If we take my car, how will you get back here?”

      “I’ll take the bus. Seriously, it’s not that big a deal. I don’t have any competitions this weekend. I was just going to go out to my folks’ place and I can call and tell them I’ll be a day or so late.”

      He put his hand along the side of her face, making the skin there tingle. “You’re pale,” he said softly. “And considering the news you shared with me today...”

      “You should be running in the other direction.”

      “No, I shouldn’t. Let me make sure you get to the hospital in one piece, okay? Besides, it gives us a chance to talk about all the things we need to on the way.”

      That actually made sense. Plus it would keep her mind off Brock and give her company for the drive—even if it was Chris.

      “Okay. Can we get going though? I don’t want to waste more time arguing.”

      He smiled then, and her heart gave a strange thump at the sight. It was the first time he’d truly smiled since she’d arrived, she realized. And she remembered why she’d fallen under his spell in the first place. Chris Miller was more than just handsome. He was...magnetic. She’d have to be careful to keep things totally platonic. There could be no romantic complications as they moved forward with her plans for the baby.

      “We’ll take my car. If I remember right, it’s more comfortable than your truck.”

      “Deal.” He put out his hand for the keys.

      Reluctantly she gave them to him, and followed him out the door. They went down the elevator and through the foyer and out into the bright Texas sun, which seemed exceptionally warm for March. She squinted and pointed toward her car, but Chris just pushed the unlock button and found her vehicle when the lights flashed on.

      “A Mercedes. Nice ride.”

      “It’s a company car.”

      Which was strictly true. One of the perks of being a VP. Not that she was complaining...

      He got behind the wheel and adjusted the mirrors and before she could exhale a deep breath he was pulling out of the parking lot. They were on their way to the highway when he pulled into a strip mall and zoomed into a drive-through. “What are you doing?”

      “You looked like you were going to pass out back there. Let’s get you something to eat, okay? You can eat while I drive.”

      She should protest, say they were wasting time, but the truth was she was hungry and she knew from bitter experience the last week or so that if she let herself get too famished, she got ill. “Just a roast beef sandwich and a milk for me, please.”

      He pulled up to the window and ordered two sandwiches, a milk and a Coke. She took out a twenty to pay for the meal, but he gave her a long stare and levered his hip, reaching for his wallet in his back pocket. “I think I can buy my kid a sandwich,” he said quietly, taking out a couple of bills and handing them to the teenager at the window in exchange for the food.

      She put her money away. So the man had his pride after all.

      He didn’t waste any time getting to the highway, headed toward Dallas and her family. It was strange seeing someone else in the driver’s seat of her car, and surreal to think that he was the father of the baby growing inside her. None of it felt like it was truly possible; rather the situation was like a weird dream and she’d wake up with a great sense of relief. But it wasn’t. She’d made a mistake. And now she had to deal with it, the way she’d always dealt with changing situations in her life. With logic.

      The sandwich was delicious, a bit warm with tangy mustard and lettuce and tomato and she ate neatly, self-conscious the whole time. While she drank from her carton of milk, Chris manhandled his sandwich with one hand while driving and when the first half was gone, he reached for his soda and took a long pull. “Feel better?” he asked, looking over at her.

      “I do, thank you.” She tried a smile. She hadn’t realized how hungry she was until she started eating. “You were right. I needed some fuel. Especially since I don’t know when I’ll eat again once I get to the hospital.”

      “You’re close with your family?” He glanced over at her and then back at the road again.

      “Mostly.” It was a complicated question. “My mom left when we were pretty small—me and Savannah and Carly and Jet. When my dad remarried, he adopted Peggy’s boys, Jacob and Daniel. Then Peggy died.... I think we’re the new ‘typical’ American family.” She smiled. “Blended a couple of times. Dad’s current wife has a five-year-old son from a previous relationship. We get along pretty well—considering. Even though we’ve all grown, things are still centered out at the ranch. We’ve got the farm and Dad built the ring for rodeo training.”

      Chris nodded. “I don’t come from a big family like that. Only child.”

      “Trouble sharing?” She grinned at him and he laughed a little.

      “Not so much. Just a bit of pressure is all. All the expectations on the shoulders of one kid, you know?”

      “That’s not necessarily untrue in a big family. I’ve always felt like more was expected of me because I’m oldest. Even though Jacob and Daniel are pretty close to me in age, there was a difference as we grew up.” She didn’t say that it was partly because Brock treated the adopted boys just a little differently. She couldn’t prove it, after all. And yet she was sure the boys sensed it just the same.

      She put her head back against the seat rest. “Anyway, you know quite a bit about me now. How about you?”

      His fingers gripped the wheel. “Not much to say, really. I grew up outside the city, had a pretty normal childhood. My dad was foreman on a ranch and the owner got me into rodeo.”

      “I saw that you were a junior champ a long time ago, but then it’s like you dropped off the