The Black Sheep's Proposal. Patricia Thayer

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The Black Sheep's Proposal - Patricia Thayer Mills & Boon Romance

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I like you, too. Maybe you could call me Luke.”

      She frowned. “Mama says I can’t call big people by their first names ’cause it’s not ’spectful.”

      “Respectful,” Luke corrected gently.

      She nodded. “Yeah. Maybe I can call you Mr. Luke.”

      Luke wasn’t used to being around kids. But Livy Meyers didn’t seem to notice. “Sounds like a good idea.”

      Her smile widened, and he saw the resemblance to her pretty mother. But the smile suddenly disappeared when someone called Livy’s name.

      They both turned to see Tess coming out of the corral. “Oh, no. I gotta go.” She grabbed her kitten and went to the edge of the porch. “I forgot to ask you something.” She came back. “What’s your favorite flavor of cake?”

      He blinked. “I guess it would be chocolate. Why?”

      Livy leaned forward and whispered, “It’s a surprise.” Giggling, the little nymph ran off toward her mother.

      Tess approached her daughter, and he didn’t have to hear to know that the child was getting a lecture. With a nod, Livy started for the foreman’s house while Tess headed his way.

      Luke stood, feeling a little rush of excitement on seeing her graceful strides, and those long legs encased in jeans and covered with worn leather chaps. She wore a Henley-style shirt and her battered cowboy hat on her head. Suddenly he couldn’t remember why he swore off women. He adjusted his own hat and went to meet her.

      “I want to apologize for Livy bothering you,” Tess began. “It won’t happen again.”

      “She wasn’t a bother. She asked if I was busy. So please don’t let her think I’m some sort of ogre.” Why did he care what a five-year-old thought?

      “Well, she still shouldn’t have come here. I told her to stay on the porch.”

      “Technically she was on the porch.”

      Tess jammed her hands on her hips and frowned. “Not her porch. And with you living here now, she especially needs to know boundaries. There are too many things that could happen to her around a ranch.”

      “I understand.” He nodded. “But there’s also no reason for us to avoid one another.”

      “Of course.” She sighed. “I’m sorry, Mr. Randell—”

      “Please, it’s Luke.”

      Tess hesitated. She didn’t want to get too friendly with this man. “Luke… It’s just that there’s never been anyone living in the house.”

      “Like I said, it’s temporary. And I don’t want or plan to disturb your operation.”

      “So you aren’t giving any more thought to staying and going into ranching?”

      Not in the last hour. “I’ve never given any thought to staying permanently,” he said stubbornly.

      Tess couldn’t understand how he could walk away from this incredible property. “Maybe you should talk to your cousins before you make a decision.”

      He arched an eyebrow. “Oh, yeah, the notorious Randell brothers.”

      She didn’t miss the resentment in his voice. “Your family runs several successful businesses. There’s the guest ranch…along with horse breeding and a cattle operation. Not to mention being a supplier of rough rodeo stock.”

      “Don’t forget my uncle who was arrested for cattle rustling and cousins who were juvenile delinquents. My uncle and my daddy were well-known womanizers.”

      Tess tried not to react, but it was hard. “Those are old stories. Chance, Cade and Travis have all but erased that bad reputation with their work in the community. You should give San Angelo a chance.”

      He blew out a long breath. “That still doesn’t make me a rancher.”

      Here was her chance. “But I am. I could run this place for you.”

      He stared at her for a long time. “You’re asking to be my foreman?”

      She fought the blush coloring her cheeks. “It’s not as crazy as it sounds. I’ve worked alongside my daddy as soon as I could climb on a horse. I was three years old when we first came here.”

      Tess recalled her father’s stories about how he’d used her mother’s life insurance money to buy the first herd. She thought about her father now and she grew sad, knowing he was going to have to leave here, anyway.

      Luke’s gray eyes filled with mischief. “So you think you can make a rancher out of me?”

      Her pulse raced as she looked him over. “You are a Randell, so I’d say it’s already been bred into you.”

      Two mornings later Luke was still thinking about Tess Meyers. She’d managed to interrupt his thoughts sporadically in the past forty-eight hours. Although he’d spent most of the time in solitude, and his meals had consisted of frozen dinners he put into the small microwave he’d brought with him, he still wanted to eat in peace. The crazy thing was, he actually had thought about her offer…all of thirty seconds.

      Luke sipped his coffee and leaned against the kitchen counter. The room was huge with built-in cupboards that lined the walls. The countertops were a golden-hued Mexican tile, and the floor was covered in terra-cotta brick.

      He smiled. He remembered it vividly since he used to eat breakfast here as a child. The very same table was placed by the row of windows that overlooked the barn and corral. Back then there were ranch hands around, helping his father run the place. Sam had gotten out of the military…and he was finally home with his family.

      Luke had just turned five and gotten a new horse for his birthday that summer. He rode Bandit every day until he went off to kindergarten. Life could have been better, but it could get a lot worse. Parents could fight and decide to end a marriage…destroy a family. And a boy might never see his dad again.

      Luke shook away the thoughts. Damn. Stop it. He was an adult now. He’d gotten over all that long ago. He’d moved on. Or had he?

      There was a knock on the door, pulling him back to the present. He looked through the screen and saw Livy and an older woman.

      Surprisingly he was happy to see her. “Morning, shortcake. You came back.”

      “It’s okay, I’m ’posed to be here now.”

      “I’m glad.” He opened the door. “Who’s your friend?”

      Livy giggled. “She’s not my friend, she’s my aunt Bernie.”

      “Bernice Peterson,” the older woman said, and offered a warm smile that crinkled the corners of her hazel eyes. “Please call me Bernice.”

      “Nice to meet you, Bernice. I’m Luke. Would you come in?”

      Both females walked into

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