The Maverick's Ready-Made Family Page 10

  Now it was her turn to be surprised. “You’re taking Bennett to the party?”

  He chuckled. “No. I’ve already made arrangements for him to stay with some of his cousins under the care of a highly recommended local sitter.”

  Which led her to ask, “So why do you need me?”

  “I don’t need you,” he clarified. “I just thought you might like to go—to get away from the ranch for a few hours.”

  “I would,” she agreed. “I was just—” stunned, shocked, completely flabbergasted “—surprised...by the invitation.”

  “Then you’ll come with us?” he asked hopefully.

  She mentally reviewed the contents of her wardrobe, trying to determine if she had anything that might be appropriate for such an event, and realized that the answer was a resounding no. Not anything that would fit over her enormous belly, anyway. Which meant that she would have to make a trip into town and, fingers crossed, try to find something suitable in the limited maternity selection at Second Chances, the thrift store in town.

  Since she had to go into town to talk to Malcolm at the Feed ’N’ Seed about making some changes to the ranch’s customary feed order, she had a ready-made excuse for the trip. Except her meeting with Malcolm wasn’t until four o’clock, and by the time she got home again after that, she’d hardly have any time to get ready. But if she did her hair and makeup before she headed into town—

  “Antonia?” Clay prompted.

  She flushed, realizing he was still waiting for an answer to his invitation. “Would it be okay if I met you at The Hitching Post?”

  “Oh. I thought, if we were going to the same place, we might as well go together.”

  “It’s just that I have an appointment in town this afternoon, so it actually makes more sense for me to stay in town.”

  “All right,” he agreed.

  * * *

  Antonia refused to think about his invitation through the rest of the morning. She had too much to do to let herself be distracted by something that wasn’t even a date.

  She made a double-batch of chili for dinner and left it simmering in the slow-cooker. She hopped into the shower quickly, then used a wide-barreled curling iron to put a few loose waves in her hair. By three o’clock, she was starting on her makeup and feeling undeniable flutters in her belly that she knew were not caused by the baby she carried there.

  “Hey, Toni, I just wanted—”

  Jonah stopped in the open doorway of her bedroom and stared at her as if he’d never seen her put on makeup before.

  “What did you want?” she asked with deliberate politeness.

  “I wanted to make sure you remembered you had to go to the Feed ’N’ Seed.”

  “I’ll be on my way shortly.”

  “Since when do you put on makeup to go into town?” Jonah demanded.

  “Since when is my personal appearance any of your concern?” Antonia countered.

  “Since you look like you’re getting ready for a date.”

  “Is that so inconceivable?”

  He scowled. “Do you have a date?”

  She wasn’t entirely sure what was the appropriate response to that question. When a man invited a woman to attend a social event with him, it was usually a date. But Clay had asked if she wanted to go to the opening with both he and his brother, which definitely didn’t sound like a date to her. She shook her head. “No, but I am going to the grand reopening of The Hitching Post.”

  “Who are you going with?”

  She sighed. “I’m meeting Clay—”

  “Sounds like a date to me,” Jonah interrupted.

  “—and Forrest,” she finished.

  “It doesn’t look right.”

  She set down her mascara wand. “My makeup?”

  If one of them hadn’t been in a sling, he would no doubt have folded his arms over his chest in a familiar gesture of disapproval. Instead, he leaned his good shoulder against the doorjamb and glowered at her. “A pregnant woman going out with a man who isn’t even the father of her baby.”

  “I’m attending a social event along with at least a hundred other residents of Thunder Canyon.”

  “I’ve seen the way he looks at you,” Jonah said.

  And though his words were spoken in an ominous tone, her heart gave a happy little flutter. Clay had flirted with her a little, and she’d flirted right back. They both knew it wasn’t going to go anywhere. Of course not. He was adjusting to life as a father, she was soon going to be a mother, and neither one of them had the inclination to take things any further. But the man did make her heart pound, and her blood pulse, and her knees quiver.

  “And I’ve seen you looking right back,” her brother accused.

  Since she couldn’t deny that was true, she only said, “There’s no harm in looking.”

  “You’re pregnant.”

  She looked down at her belly, made her eyes widen. “Oh, my goodness. When did that happen?”

  Jonah glowered some more. “People will talk.”

  Antonia sighed. “People have been talking for months.”

  “It doesn’t bother you?”

  “I can’t control what anyone else thinks or says.”

  “You don’t have to add fuel to the fire,” he told her.

  “Jonah, I haven’t been out socially since—” She thought about the movie she’d attended with Clay the previous Saturday afternoon, then decided it would be smarter not to mention that outing to her brother. No doubt he would go off the deep end about that, too. “Well, it’s been so long, I can’t even remember since when.”

  “If you want to go out somewhere, I can take you.”

  She crossed the room to her closet, grabbed another one of the flannel shirts she’d borrowed from her father’s wardrobe, and pulled it on over her T-shirt. “I’m going to The Hitching Post with Clay and Forrest tonight,” she said with finality. “But since I have to go into town this afternoon, I’ll be driving myself in my own vehicle so that I can leave the party whenever I want.”

  Her answer must have appeased him somewhat because Jonah finally just said, “Don’t be out too late.”

  She picked up her purse, slung it over her shoulder. “Don’t wait up.”

  * * *

  Clay had never left his son with anyone outside of the family. Well, aside from Antonia, of course. It had been surprisingly easy for Clay to entrust Bennett to her care, because the little guy didn’t just adore her but obviously felt comfortable with her, which had made Clay feel a lot more comfortable about the situation.

  But he was having second (or was it seventh by now?) thoughts about his decision to leave his baby with Shandie’s sitter. Maybe he should have asked Antonia to watch Bennett tonight. But when his cousin’s wife had suggested that the little boy could stay at their place with her eight-year-old daughter, Kayla, and four-year-old son, Max, and the babysitter she’d been using since Max was a baby, it had seemed like a great idea—and the perfect opportunity to get Antonia away from the ranch for a few hours.

  Because Clay knew that she didn’t just work hard but almost incessantly at Wright’s Way. Through conversation with her brothers, he’d been surprised to learn that—before she got pregnant—she’d been primarily responsible for the care and training of the horses that boarded at their stables. It was only after her doctor had recommended a shift to less strenuous activities that she’d turned her attention to the administrative and housekeeping duties.

  And she’d tackled those new responsibilities, Ace admitted with grudging admiration, with as much initiative and enthusiasm as she’d done everything else. Which made Clay wonder if she’d show the same initiative and enthusiasm in the bedroom—an inappropriate thought for which he immediately chastised himself.

  He’d just finished
changing Bennett’s diaper when a brisk knock on the door preceded his brother’s entry.

  “Do I have to wear a tie to this thing tonight?” Forrest wanted to know.

  “It’s called The Hitching Post not Le Grand Maison.”

  “I take it that’s a no.”

  “I’m sure you could wear one if you want,” Clay told him. “But I’m not.”

  “But you shaved,” Forrest noted.

  “Of course I shaved.”

  His brother sniffed the air. “And put on cologne.”

  “It’s aftershave,” Clay said pointedly. “Which I usually put on after I shave.”

  “You’re wearing dress pants.”

  “They’re khakis.”

  Forrest shrugged. “They’re not denim.”

  “Well, I did think the occasion warranted something different than my usual attire.”

  “The occasion—or the company?” his brother teased.

  “As if you’d appreciate my efforts,” Clay responded, deliberately misinterpreting the question.

  Forrest grinned as he bent over to pick up the block Bennett had thrown down. The little boy smiled his thanks—then threw it down again. “You really like her, don’t you?”

  “Of course I like her. I wouldn’t have invited her to go with us tonight if I didn’t enjoy spending time with her.”

  “That’s another thing.” His brother picked up the block again, but instead of giving it to Bennett, he amused the baby by tossing it back and forth from one hand to the other. “Why did you invite her to go with us? Are you trying to pretend this isn’t a date?”

  “It isn’t a date.”

  Forrest just rolled his eyes. “You know, she might be just what you need.”

  “How so?”

  “You’re a single dad, she’s almost a single mom.”

  Which were just two of the many reasons that he couldn’t let himself think of tonight as a date. Yes, he liked her. Yes, he cared about her. But their respective lives were too complicated to think that there was any way they could mesh, even temporarily.

  “If you two got married, Bennett would have a mom and her baby would have a dad.”

  Married? Clay felt as if he was choking. He reached up and opened the top button of his shirt. “I am not getting married.”

  “Not before a first date, anyway,” Forrest teased.

  “You know me, Forrest. I don’t do commitment.”

  “I used to think that was true,” his brother admitted. “But the last six months with Bennett have proven otherwise.”

  “That’s different.”

  “Why?”

  “Because he’s my son.”

  “His mother walked away,” Forrest reminded him. “You could have done the same.”

  “No way.” His denial was immediate and vehement.

  “Which only proves my point.” His brother’s smile was smug as he handed the block to Bennett again.

  “It’s still not a date,” Clay insisted.

  Bennett threw the block at his head.

  Chapter Eight

  After Antonia’s stop at the feed store, she drove to Second Chances, located beside Real Vintage Cowboy in Old Town. If she’d had more time, she could have gone to one of the big shopping malls in Bozeman. But she didn’t have more time, which meant that she had two options: the plus-size store at New Town Mall or the maternity section at Second Chances. She would have preferred to avoid Main Street and the inevitable interrogation that would follow if she ran into Catherine, but the necessity of shopping within her budget proved stronger than her cowardice.

  She’d been a frequent visitor to Second Chances since her waistline had started expanding. She hadn’t stocked up on a lot of stuff for her baby because she didn’t need a lot. In the attic at home, she’d found boxes and boxes of baby clothes that had once belonged to her brothers or herself. Apparently her mother had kept everything, and Antonia had unpacked, sorted, laundered and folded the various garments into neat little piles according to gender and season, ready for her baby to make his or her appearance.

  As for maternity clothes, she’d tried not to splurge unnecessarily in that department, too. But when her breasts had started to spill out of her bras, she’d made a trip to a specialty shop in Billings, not wanting everyone she knew in Thunder Canyon to be privy to the details of her lingerie purchases. She’d bought a few new bras and had looked—with apparent dismay—at the wide stretchy lace band at the top of the maternity panties. The sales clerk had laughed at her expression and confided that bikini underwear were a perfectly acceptable alternative.

  Antonia was wearing one of those new bras and a pair of matching bikinis now, because she liked the sensation of the soft fabrics against her skin. Of course, she hadn’t worried about the color of her lingerie when she’d pulled on her maternity jeans and flannel shirt, but she realized now that the crimson-colored lace might further limit her options. Because Helen Vanderhorst would just die if she caught a glimpse of Antonia’s red bra through a white top—but not before she’d shared the news with all of her friends from church.

  The store was empty of other customers when Antonia arrived and the clerk, who was tagging new merchandise, smiled at her. “Welcome to Second Chances. Can I help you find anything in particular today?”

  “Please,” Antonia said, just a little desperately.

  The other woman, whose name tag identified her as Bonnie, laughed. “Are you looking for something for a special occasion?”

  “Something a little dressier than what I’m wearing now but not too formal.”

  “You’re in luck. A young mother of six-month-old triplets came in yesterday and dropped off two boxes of maternity clothes.”

  Antonia swallowed. “Triplets?”

  “Three gorgeous little girls.”

  “Three...girls,” she echoed weakly.

  “Do you know if you’re having a boy or a girl?” Bonnie asked.

  She shook her head. “No, but I do know there’s only one baby.”

  The sales clerk laughed again. “Well, you can imagine why this mom was adamant that she wasn’t having any more kids. But she had fabulous taste—and the styles are much more current than most of the stuff on our racks.” She rifled through the offerings, pushing aside tops and skirts and dresses until she came to what she wanted, and pulled out a hanger. “Try this.”

  So Antonia did, and the fit of the burgundy chiffon dress was perfect—and almost flattering, even.

  “It looks fabulous,” Bonnie said.

  Antonia wasn’t sure about fabulous—after all, it didn’t hide the fact that she was seven and a half months pregnant. But she did think it looked pretty good, because the side shirring allowed the fabric to drape over the curve of her belly without emphasizing it.

  “What color are your shoes?”

  “Shoes?” Antonia echoed, slapping a hand to her forehead.

  Bonnie just smiled. “What size do you wear?”

  “Eight.”

  She moved to a shelf stacked high with boxes against the back wall and pulled one free.

  Antonia slipped the low-heeled pumps onto her feet.

  “Perfect,” Bonnie decided.

  Antonia mentally calculated the cost of the dress and the shoes and nodded. She was within her budget, and that was perfect for her.

  * * *

  It was an undeniable fact that a man was usually drawn to a woman he found attractive, and Clay had dated a lot of very attractive women. Antonia wasn’t cover model gorgeous, but she was beautiful in a more subtle and natural way. She didn’t wear a lot of makeup, but she didn’t need a lot to enhance her innate beauty. Her skin was flawless, her lips were exquisitely shaped, and her deep green eyes could sparkle with humor, glint wi
th anger and dim with shadows.

  And while Clay usually appreciated Antonia’s natural look, when he saw her walking down the sidewalk toward him, he also appreciated that she’d put some extra effort into her appearance tonight. She’d added some curl to the hair that tumbled over her shoulders, some liner and shadow to emphasize the green of her eyes, some colored gloss to showcase those exquisite lips—and she was wearing a dress.

  He’d never before seen her in a dress. Especially not anything like this one that dipped at the front to show a hint of shadowy cleavage and finished just above the knee to reveal a long length of slender, shapely leg.

  “You might want to pick your jaw up off the sidewalk before we go into the party,” Forrest suggested, in a tone pitched low enough that Antonia couldn’t hear.

  Clay followed his brother’s advice, albeit with some difficulty.

  “She’s really got you hooked, hasn’t she?”

  “I’m not hooked,” Clay denied automatically.

  Forrest mimicked the sound of a fishing line being reeled in.

  Clay—his attention riveted on Antonia—didn’t bother to respond.

  “Am I late?” she asked, when she finally joined them on the wide, wood-pillared porch outside the front doors of The Hitching Post. “Have you been waiting long?”

  Forrest shot his elbow into his brother’s ribs.

  “Um, no. You’re right on time,” Clay managed.

  Forrest managed to do better. “You look very nice this evening, Ms. Wright,” he said, his tone only a little gruff.

  Her cheeks colored. “Same goes, Mr. Traub.” Her gaze shifted from Forrest to Clay. “And Mr. Traub. Thank you both for including me tonight.”

  “The company of a beautiful woman always makes an evening more enjoyable,” Forrest said, and offered his arm to Antonia.

  Usually a man of a surly attitude and few words, he was laying on the charm tonight. And Clay could only stare as Antonia tucked her hand in the crook of his brother’s arm and let him lead her inside.

  The event was already a huge success, with the residents of Thunder Canyon having shown up in full force to support Jason and Joss in their venture. Of course, Antonia was acquainted with more than a few people in attendance, and Clay sensed several speculative glances cast toward their trio. Or maybe the glances were focused solely on Antonia and Forrest, since Clay had entered a few steps behind, feeling like the proverbial fifth wheel.