The Maverick's Ready-Made Family. Brenda Harlen

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The Maverick's Ready-Made Family - Brenda Harlen Mills & Boon Cherish

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course, that knowledge and even his own internal reprimands didn’t stop the thoughts from forming in his mind. And seeing Toni at the family-style breakfast she prepared for the boarders every morning somehow only further fanned the flames of his desire. A realization that, as he settled into the chair beside his son and across from his brother, continued to baffle him.

      He’d always appreciated the company of women and, in the past, he’d enjoyed countless casual dates and numerous carefree liaisons. But he wasn’t that man anymore. He had a child to consider now—as would Toni in the very near future.

      Clay had never imagined himself as a father. Not that he’d precluded the possibility from his future, he simply hadn’t thought he was ready for the responsibility at this point in his life. Delia showing up on his doorstep with a baby had taken that choice out of his hands. And while he would fight tooth and nail to protect his child, the little boy was all the responsibility Clay could—or wanted to—handle at this point in his life. He certainly didn’t want or need the complication of a personal relationship right now, and hooking up with a woman who had a baby of her own on the way would just be crazy.

      No one had ever had cause to question Clay’s sanity in the past, so why was he so drawn to this particular woman? Why now?

      Toni set a plastic bowl on the tray of Bennett’s high chair, and the little boy immediately reached into it, wrapping his fist around a handful of scrambled egg and then shoving his fist into his mouth.

      She ruffled his hair and smiled. “You’re a hungry little guy today, are you?”

      Bennett’s only response was to reach into the bowl with his other fist.

      “He’s got a healthy appetite,” Clay told her.

      “Growing boys need to eat,” Antonia noted.

      “So do grown men,” Forrest pointed out.

      Toni shifted her attention to the man seated on the other side of the table, her cheeks flushing as she took the empty platter from his hands.

      “Coming right up,” she promised.

      Clay scowled at his brother. “Don’t you think that was a little rude?”

      “What was rude? Interrupting your flirting?” Forrest asked.

      “I wasn’t flirting.”

      His brother snorted.

      “I wasn’t,” Clay insisted, though he wondered why he bothered. Because even if he had been flirting—which he wasn’t—he didn’t care what his brother thought. But he also didn’t want Toni overhearing their conversation and thinking that he had a thing for her. Because he didn’t.

      “Wasn’t it Shakespeare who said something about men who protested too much?” Forrest challenged.

      Bennett banged his hands on his tray, giving Clay an excuse to turn his attention to the little boy and ignore his brother’s comment.

      “How’s your breakfast?” he asked.

      The baby responded by offering a fistful of scrambled egg.

      Clay nudged the little boy’s hand toward his mouth. “Bennett, eat.”

      And he did, happily.

      Toni returned with a platter laden with scrambled eggs, crisp bacon, browned sausages and savory fried potatoes in one hand and a full coffeepot in the other. She set the platter on the table and filled Clay’s and Forrest’s mugs before making her way down the table, offering refills to the other boarders who were lingering at breakfast.

      Forrest loaded up his plate, then immediately focused his attention on his meal. Clay scooped up a forkful of eggs, but found his gaze following Toni as she made her way back to the kitchen.

      “Transference,” Forrest said.

      Clay looked up, startled by the abrupt pronouncement. “What?”

      “Transference,” his brother said again. “It’s the redirection of emotions, usually in the context of a therapist-patient relationship but also occurring in other situations.”

      Clay wasn’t sure he was following. Although he knew that one of the reasons Forrest had chosen to come to Thunder Canyon was to continue working in a therapy group with Annabel Cates and her dog, Smiley.

      “Are you saying that you have feelings for your therapist?”

      His brother snorted. “I’m talking about you, not me.”

      Now Clay was even more confused. “You think I have feelings for your therapist?”

      “I think you’re still feeling guilty about not being there for Delia when she was pregnant—”

      “I didn’t know she was pregnant,” he interrupted to remind his brother.

      “—and you want to make up for it by demonstrating an interest in the stages of pregnancy, resulting in your infatuation with our expectant landlady.”

      “I’m not infatuated with our landlady.”

      Forrest continued as if he hadn’t spoken. “The fact that she doesn’t have a husband just makes her a more obvious target of your attention.”

      “What’s obvious to me is that you have too much time on your hands if these are the scenarios you’re dreaming up.”

      “‘That looks heavy, Toni,’” Forrest said, mimicking his brother. “‘Let me get it for you.’ ‘I’m going into town, Toni. Do you need me to pick anything up?’”

      Clay scowled at his sibling, although he was more annoyed because he realized that Forrest was right. “Is there something wrong with wanting to be helpful?”

      “Not at all,” Forrest denied. “So long as you’re aware of the rationale behind your actions.”

      Clay thought he understood his rationale far better than his brother did, and it had absolutely nothing to do with Toni’s pregnancy. Truthfully, every time he caught a glimpse of her rounded belly, his mind started, because when he looked at his gorgeous landlady, the absolute last thing on his mind was that she was a mother-to-be.

      No, his feelings for Toni Wright had absolutely nothing to do with any latent parental instincts he might possess and everything to do with simple masculine appreciation. He was a man, she was a beautiful woman, and he wanted to get her naked.

      “But what do I know?” Forrest said now, a teasing note in his voice. “I’m not a father. Maybe you want to double your diapers, double your fun.”

      Clay shook his head emphatically. “Bennett gives me more diaper changes than any man should have to handle.”

      As if in response to his name, the little boy looked up from the egg he was smearing on his tray and smiled, and Clay actually felt his heart squeeze inside his chest.

      Maybe he hadn’t thought too much about having children before Delia showed up at his door with Bennett, and maybe he’d denied—instinctively,

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