Unmasking The Maverick. Teresa Southwick

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Unmasking The Maverick - Teresa Southwick Montana Mavericks: The Lonelyhearts Ranch

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      A place at the table, he thought, watching them all walk away. A family thing. He hadn’t experienced much of that in his life and it was probably better for everyone if he stayed away. And by “everyone” he meant Fiona. He’d seen the wary look on her face when he’d been invited. It was so different from her smile when he’d used a basket of broken toys to fix a toddler’s tantrum. Damn it. He wanted to hang the moon for her again.

      In battle it was an unwritten rule that you never left a man behind. But watching her leave made him feel as if someone was and he had a bad feeling that man was him.

      * * *

      At the house, Fiona made a dash for the bathroom to see just how bad she had looked for her meet and greet with the hunky new guy. Her worst suspicions were confirmed. The overall effect was almost as bad as if she’d been mud wrestling. Come to think of it, chasing after little Jared Stockton wasn’t much different, but still...

      Red hair had escaped her ponytail and hung around her face. The freckles on her nose, which she hated more than anything except the five extra pounds on her hips, were like dots begging to be connected. It’s what happened when a girl didn’t put on makeup because, hey, it was just family.

      If the universe had given her a clue that she would meet the best-looking man in Montana, she would have made more of an effort to minimize her flaws. No wonder he’d turned down the dinner invitation. That and Luke throwing her at the poor man.

      Now that she had a little distance from the power of his sex appeal, she could finally think straight. It was probably for the best that he hadn’t come to dinner. The last time someone pushed her at a man, things ended badly. And that time it was public.

      Fiona opened the bathroom door and nearly tripped over Jared, who was waiting for her. She picked him up. “Hey, bud, at least you love me.”

      “Wuv you.” He put his hands on her cheeks and kissed her.

      “You’re a heartbreaker in training, that’s what you are. Let’s go help Aunt Eva and Uncle Luke get dinner on the table.”

      With the child in her arms, Fiona walked down the hall and found her way to the dining room. It was crawling with Stocktons. Altogether there were seven Stockton siblings, but only four were here. The oldest, Luke, sat at the head of the table next to his new wife, Eva Armstrong. Bella was a Jones now, married to her husband, Hudson. Daniel Stockton and his wife, Annie, had a preteen daughter, Janie. Last was Jamie, who was married to Fiona’s sister Fallon.

      The family had been split up after their folks died. In recent years they’d been coming back together, and these Sunday night dinners were important to all of them.

      The dining room table was set for what looked like an army. Eva was directing everyone like a general executing a battle plan. The triplets were settled into booster chairs with Jamie and Fallon in between to oversee them. The other couples took their places, and Fiona was directed to one of the two empty seats at the end of the table. The Stocktons had one single male brother left and she had a bad feeling.

      She sat next to the empty chair. “Is Bailey coming?”

      Luke laughed at her question. “He was invited, of course, but politely declined.”

      “Politely?” His wife, Eva, sat at a right angle to him in the place closest to the kitchen. “I think he said something about preferring horses to people.”

      Bella sighed. “That’s just it. We’re not people. We’re family.”

      “He’s got some issues to work through.” Jamie spooned peas onto Jared’s and Kate’s little plastic plates and passed the bowl to Fallon to serve Henry. “Give him time. He’ll come around. When he meets the right woman.”

      Here we go, Fiona thought. She was a woman. She was nice. She was single and getting very close to the ripe old age of thirty. They’d better not ask why she wasn’t married unless they wanted to unleash a redhead’s legendary temper.

      “So, who is the extra plate for, then?” Fallon asked.

      “We have a guest staying in one of the cabins. Brendan Tanner,” Eva explained. “He fixed our dryer and some other things here at Sunshine Farm. Luke invited him to dinner.”

      Just hearing his name made Fiona’s stomach feel funny. Nervous and excited. In a “crushing on him” kind of way. It was time to shut down this topic. “He said he couldn’t make it.”

      “I’m hoping he’ll change his mind,” Luke said. “The man saved us the cost of a new clothes dryer. The least we can do is feed him dinner.” As if on cue, a knock on the front door interrupted him. “Come in.”

      A moment later Brendan Tanner walked inside and stopped cold when he saw everyone looking at him. “You didn’t say the fifth infantry, third battalion would be here.”

      Funny, Fiona thought. She’d been thinking an army was coming, too, when she’d seen how many places were set at the table.

      “Always room for one more.” Luke waved him closer. “Sit there next to Fiona. Glad you changed your mind. We’re ready for you.”

      Good for them, Fiona thought. She wasn’t ready for this at all. And if the look on Tanner’s face was anything to go by, he wasn’t, either. But there was something in his green eyes when he looked at her, an intensity that made them glow. Heat pooled low in her belly and her hands started to shake when he walked over and sat down. She’d give him this—the man had courage.

      And he showered, she thought. His damp, freshly combed hair was a clue, as was the fresh scent of soap that clung to his skin. He’d changed his clothes, too. The plaid snap-front shirt tucked into jeans highlighted his narrow hips and broad shoulders. Eye candy for sure.

      And she’d been staring. Oh, boy, say something brilliant. She cleared her throat. “So, Brendan, what made you change your mind?”

      “Macaroni and cheese.”

      “The one I made?” She was feeling a little tingly and flattered.

      “Is there another one?”

      “I don’t think so.”

      He shrugged one of those broad shoulders. “It’s one of my favorites. Box or scratch, count me in.”

      “I see.” Her tingly feeling went up in smoke. “So any bozo could throw ingredients together and you’d be first in line.”

      “I—That’s not exactly what I meant—”

      She grinned. “Just kidding. But seriously. If the dish I made for this dinner doesn’t bring tears to your eyes then something is very wrong with your taste buds.”

      He smiled, and the power of the look enveloped her in a sort of golden haze. It was a little like floating close to the sun all by herself. Bright and quiet—

      She suddenly realized how quiet this room was in spite of the large group around the table. They were all staring at her and Tanner. She’d once been the center of attention at a social gathering, and the horrible memory had humiliation pouring through her now as it had then. That time it was about a man, too.

      She

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