The Rancher's Baby Proposal. Barbara White Daille

my commissions.”

      “With all the wranglers who must stop in just to see you, I’d probably have to worry more about you cutting into mine.”

      “A compliment, Reagan Chase?” she said archly, batting her lashes like one of the actresses from her mama’s favorite late-night movies. “How unexpected. But I’m flattered.”

      He looked as if he had had second thoughts about what he had said. Maybe she’d overdone it on the exaggerated flirting attempt.

      “Yeah. Well.” His smile seemed forced. “Don’t let it go to your head.”

      “Oh, I won’t.” No chance of that. His words had gone straight to her heart. Obviously, she had been foolish to think he had meant them.

      Afraid he might read the truth behind her teasing, she looked down at the baby for just a moment. “Sean and I were wondering if you were planning to eat tonight.”

      “Eat?” His gaze went to the open doorway behind her. “What time is it?”

      “Sevenish.”

      “Dang.” He ran his hand through his hair, giving her another look at flexing muscle. “I lost track of time. And I showed you the baby’s formula, but I didn’t tell you what food I’d stocked in the kitchen for grown-ups, did I?”

      “No.”

      “Sorry. I stopped at the L-G this morning after I dropped Sean at Mrs. B’s.” The Local-General Store in the heart of town served most of Cowboy Creek. “I didn’t pick up a full order yet, but there’re sandwich fixings in the refrigerator and a loaf of bread in the box near the toaster. Help yourself.”

      “You’re not planning to eat?”

      His gaze sliding away from her, he shook his head. “I’ve still got a lot to do out here.”

      “Won’t you wear yourself out if you don’t pace yourself?”

      “Who, me? I’m an all-around athlete, remember?”

      “I’ll never forget.” She had attempted her arch tone again, but the words rang embarrassingly true, at least to her.

      Judging by Reagan’s suddenly blank stare, he noticed her mistake, too.

      As she had told Sean, his daddy either didn’t want to resurrect memories or didn’t like the idea of sharing them with her. A shame, really.

      She shifted the baby carrier on her arm, making an effort to remember she wasn’t here for fun and games, reminding herself Reagan wasn’t interested in flirting.

      An even bigger shame, because that was what she did best. She didn’t intend to give it up at this crucial point—though, of course, she’d cut back on the fake vampiness from now on.

      Experience had taught her flirting was guaranteed to get a man’s attention. And she definitely wanted to capture Reagan’s.