Special Deliveries: A Baby With Her Best Friend. Maureen Child

you think you’re worrying me, you’re wrong,” she said.

      Nathan stared at her. “I don’t want you worried. I don’t want you at all.”

      Direct hit, she thought as an icy fist slammed into her chest and squeezed her heart. But she wouldn’t let him see it. “I don’t want you, either, Nathan. I’m not that young girl anymore, dazzled because Nathan Battle noticed her—”

      He grabbed her, yanked her close and kissed her with a fierce desperation that was fueled by desire and anger, all twisted up together. She could feel it in him as she felt it in herself. Past and present tangled together and memories as thick as honey on a winter morning.

      But those memories were swamped by all of the new sensations coursing through her.

       To Rosemary Rangel EstradaWe really miss you, neighbour!

      MAUREEN CHILD writes for the Harlequin Desire line and can’t imagine a better job.

      A seven-time fnalist for a prestigious Romance Writers of America RITA^® Award, Maureen is an author of more than one hundred romance novels. Her books regularly appear on bestseller lists and have won several awards, including a Prism Award, a National Readers’ Choice Award, a Colorado Romance Writers Award of Excellence and a Golden Quill Award. She is a native Californian but has recently moved to the mountains of Utah.

      To Rosemary Rangel Estrada

      We really miss you, neighbor!

       One

      Amanda Altman’s back in town.

      It was all anyone could talk about and Nathan Battle was getting pretty damn sick of it. Nothing he hated more than being at the center of a gossip tornado. He’d already lived through it once, years ago. Of course, he’d escaped the worst of it by moving to Houston and burying himself in the police academy and then his job.

      Wouldn’t work this time. He’d built his place here. He wasn’t going anywhere. Mostly because Nathan Battle didn’t run. So he’d just have to ride this mess out until the town found something new to chew on.

      But that was life in Royal, Texas. A town too small to mind its own business and too big to have to repeat the same gossip over and over again.

      Even here, he thought, in the hallowed halls of the Texas Cattleman’s Club, Nathan couldn’t escape the talk—or the speculation. Not even from his best friend.

      “So, Nathan,” Chance asked with a knowing grin, “you see Amanda yet?”

      Nathan looked at the man sitting opposite him. Chance McDaniel owned McDaniel’s Acres, a working dude ranch and hotel just south of town. The man had built the place from the ground up on property he’d inherited from his family, and he’d done a hell of a job.

      Chance’s blond hair was cropped short, but he still couldn’t get the wave out of it no matter how he tried. His green eyes were amused and Nathan shook his head, knowing that he was the source of his friend’s amusement.

      “No.” One word. Should be concise enough to get his message across. And maybe it would have worked with anyone else. Of course, Nathan told himself wryly, it wouldn’t be nearly enough to get Chance to back off. They’d been friends for too long. And nobody knew how to get to you better than a best friend.

      “You can’t ignore her forever,” Chance mused, taking a sip of his scotch.

      “It’s worked so far,” Nathan told him and lifted his own glass for a drink.

      “Sure it has,” Chance said, muffling a laugh. “That’s why you’ve been such a cool, calm guy the last couple of weeks.”

      Nathan narrowed his eyes on his friend. “Funny.”

      “You have no idea,” Chance agreed, lips twitching. “So, Sheriff, if you’re avoiding the Royal Diner these days, where are you getting your coffee?”

      His fingers tightened on the heavy, old crystal. “The gas station.”

      Now Chance didn’t bother to hide his laughter. “You must be desperate if you’re drinking the swill Charlie brews down there. You know, maybe it’s time you learned how to make decent coffee yourself.”

      “And maybe it’s time you let this go,” Nathan told him. Irritating is what it was, he thought. His whole damn routine had been splintered when Amanda moved back home to Royal. Used to be he started off his day with a large coffee and maybe some eggs at the diner. Amanda’s sister, Pam, always had his coffee ready for him when he walked in. That was a routine a man could count on. But since Amanda blew back into his world, he’d had to make do with Charlie’s disgusting coffee and a packaged sweet roll.

      Even when she wasn’t trying, Amanda found a way to screw with him.

      “Seriously, Nate,” Chance said, lowering his voice a little so the other members of the TCC couldn’t overhear, “from all reports, Amanda’s here to stay. Seems she’s been making some changes to the diner, settling in. Even talking about looking for a house of her own, according to Margie Santos.”

      Nathan had heard all the same talk, of course. Hard not to, when everyone in a ten-mile radius was more than eager to talk to him about Amanda. Margie Rice was the top real estate agent in Royal and one of the biggest gossips as well. If she was spreading the word that Amanda was looking for her own place, then Nathan had to admit that she was here for the long term.

      Which meant he couldn’t ignore her for much longer.

      Too bad, because he’d finally gotten good at not thinking about Amanda. Wasn’t always the case. Several years ago, Amanda was all Nathan thought about. The passion between them had burned hotter than anything he’d ever known. She’d filled his mind, waking and sleeping.

      Of course back then, they’d been engaged.

      He scowled into his glass of scotch. Times change.

      “New subject, Chance,” he muttered and let his gaze slide around the main room of the TCC.

      While his friend talked about what was happening at the ranch, Nathan’s mind wandered. Over the years, it seemed like inside the TCC, time stood still. Even the fact that women were now officially members of the long-standing, males-only club hadn’t affected the decor. Paneled walls, dark brown leather furniture—sofas and club chairs—hunting prints on the walls and a big-screen TV so you didn’t miss a bit of any Texas sporting event.

      The air smelled of lemon polish and the wood floors and tables gleamed in the lamplight. The TV was on now, but muted so that members could sit and brood behind newspapers or chat without having to shout to be heard. The soft clinking of crystal against gleaming wood tables underlined the hushed conversations surrounding them.

      A woman’s laugh pealed out just then, shattering the quiet and Nathan grinned as he noted that Beau Hacket actually cringed at the sound. At nearly sixty, Beau was short, thick around the middle and with a lot more gray in what was left of his dark red hair. He had a big laugh and a narrow mind—he believed women belonged in the kitchen and didn’t care who knew it.

      Now, Beau fired a hard look around the room as if to silently say, Did you all hear that? That’s just wrong. Women don’t belong here.

      No one said anything, but Nathan read the tension in the room and noted more gritted jaws than usual. Women were members, but they still weren’t really welcome. Everyone was gathered for the weekly TCC meeting and none of the old guard were happy about having women included.

      “Sounds like Abigail’s enjoying herself,” Chance muttered into the stillness.

      “Abby always enjoys herself,” Nathan mused.