rain, he had been so frustrated, he hadn’t paid much attention to his neighbor’s looks. But he sure as hell noticed them now.
A few inches over six feet tall, T.J. didn’t meet many women who could look him square in the eye without having to tilt their heads back. But the Wilson woman was only four or five inches shorter than him. When their gazes met, he felt like he had been kicked in the gut.
She had the bluest eyes he’d ever seen and for reasons that baffled him, he wanted to take her long, strawberry blond hair down from her ponytail and run his fingers through the soft-looking, wavy strands. The woman wasn’t just pretty, she was heart-stoppingly gorgeous. He couldn’t believe he had missed seeing that before.
When she turned to open the back door of her car and reached inside, he briefly wondered if she carried an overnight bag around just on the outside chance she got stranded somewhere. But when she straightened and turned to face him, T.J. barely managed to keep his jaw from dropping. She held a blanket-covered child to her shoulder with one arm, while she tried to keep her grasp on her purse and a diaper bag with the other.
In the course of about three seconds several questions ran through his mind. First, he remembered that when he’d stopped to see if she needed help, she had been sitting in her car contemplating how she was going to get back to her ranch. Surely she wouldn’t have tried to cross the flooded road with her kid in the backseat? The realization of what might have happened if she had tried such a thing caused a tight knot to form in the pit of his stomach. Second, when he’d asked her if there was anywhere else she could go, she had told him there wasn’t. What would she have done if he hadn’t come along and offered her shelter for the night? Would she have tried to tough it out all night in the car with a child?
“Let me help you,” T.J. said now, stepping forward to take her purse and the diaper bag. Aside from the fact that it was just good manners for a man to help a woman carry things, the dark smudges beneath her eyes were testament to the fact that she was extremely tired.
“Thank you...Malloy.” She shook her head as she closed the car door. “I don’t know your first name.”
When he stepped back for her to precede him through the door leading into the mudroom, he did his best to give her a friendly smile. “The name’s T.J., Ms. Wilson.”
He suddenly realized that in the four years since he’d bought the ranch, he’d been so busy starting his breeding program and getting settled in, that he hadn’t bothered to get acquainted with more than one or two of the other ranchers in the immediate area. And the few times he had met up with Ms. Wilson, it hadn’t been under the best of circumstances. He had been pissed off about her stallion impregnating his mares and hadn’t bothered to introduce himself and, understandably, she hadn’t been inclined to give him her name or exchange pleasantries when he had put her on the defensive.
He felt a little guilty about that. Oh, who was he kidding? He felt downright ashamed of himself. No matter if he had been angry or not, he had better manners than that and shouldn’t have been so demanding.
“My name’s Heather,” she said as they walked into the kitchen. When he turned on the lights, she stopped and looked around. “Your home is very nice.”
“Thanks.” He set her purse and the diaper bag on the kitchen island, then shrugged out of his wet jacket before helping her out of hers. “Would you like something to eat or drink, Heather?” he asked, doing his best to be cordial.
“Thank you, but it’s late and if you don’t mind, I’d rather get my son settled down for the night,” she said, sounding as if she was ready to drop in her tracks.
“No problem.” Hanging their coats in the mudroom, he picked up the two bags and led the way down the hall to the stairs in the foyer. “Do you need to call someone to let them know where you are and that you and your little boy are all right?”
T.J. wondered where her significant other was and why he wasn’t with her. Any man worth a damn wouldn’t have let his woman go out alone on a night like this. In T.J.’s opinion, there was no excuse for the man not being on the cell phone at that very moment checking to see that she and their little boy were safe and going to be all right.
Climbing the steps, she shook her head. “No. There’s no one. It’s just me and Seth.”
When T.J. stopped and opened the door to the first bedroom on the second floor, he stepped back for her to enter. “Ladies first.” Following her into the room, he added, “If this isn’t to your liking, I’ve got five more bedrooms to choose from.”
“This is fine, thank you,” she said, reaching for her purse and the diaper bag as if she would like for him to leave.
When her hand brushed his, he felt a tingling sensation along his skin and quickly reasoned that it was probably a charge of static electricity. But he couldn’t dismiss the heat he felt radiating from her quite so easily.
Frowning, he asked, “Are you feeling all right?”
“I’ve felt better,” she admitted as she set the two bags on the bench at the end of the bed.
Without a second thought about the invasion of her space, T.J. walked over and placed his palm on her forehead. “You’ve got a fever.” Lifting the edge of the blanket, he noticed the sleeping baby’s flushed cheeks. “Both of you are sick.”
“We’ll be fine,” she said, placing the little boy on the bed. “I had to take my son to the emergency room. I was on my way back home when you stopped to see if we needed help.”
“What was the diagnosis?” T.J. asked, hoping the little guy was going to be okay.
“He has an ear infection.” She reached for the diaper bag. “They gave me an antibiotic for him, as well as something to give him if his fever spikes.”
“What about you?” he asked. “Did you see a doctor while you were there?”
She shook her head. “I’ll be all right. I’m just getting over the flu.”
“You should have seen a doctor as well,” he said, unable to keep the disapproval from his voice.
“Well, I didn’t,” she retorted as if she resented his observation. “Now, if you’ll excuse me—”
“While you get him settled in bed, I’ll go get something for you to sleep in,” he interrupted, leaving the room before she could protest.
When he entered the master suite, T.J. walked straight to the medicine cabinet in his adjoining bathroom. Taking a bottle of Tylenol from one of the shelves, he went back into his bedroom and looked around. What could he give her to wear to bed? He preferred sleeping in the buff and didn’t even own a pair of pajamas. Deciding that one of his flannel shirts would have to do, he took one from the walk-in closet and headed back to the room Heather and her son would be using.
“Will this be okay?” he asked, holding up the soft shirt for her inspection. “I’m sorry I don’t have something more comfortable.”
“I could have just slept in my clothes,” she said, covering the baby with the comforter. Turning to face him, she took the garment he offered. “But thank you for...everything.”
“Here’s something to take for your fever,” he said, handing her the bottle of Tylenol. He went into the adjoining bathroom for a glass of water,
