The More Mavericks, The Merrier!. Brenda Harlen

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The More Mavericks, The Merrier! - Brenda Harlen Mills & Boon Cherish

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again struck by the uncomfortable realization that he would never be able to repay her for everything she’d done for his family over the past ten months—and continued to do. Not only did she take care of his babies, but she also helped prepare meals, kept the house tidy and ensured that HJK—and he—always had clean clothes to wear.

      But he could at least thank her, and with that thought in mind, he pushed open the partially closed door to reveal Fallon standing in front of the dryer, shaking out a garment that she’d just removed from it.

      He didn’t know what it was; he didn’t note the shape or color or anything because he couldn’t tear his gaze away from Fallon’s naked body.

      Okay, she wasn’t actually naked.

      Not even half-naked really.

      She was only topless. And wearing a bra. But it had been a long time since he’d seen so much bare female skin. Temptingly smooth and pale. He wondered if it could possibly be as soft as it looked and, from out of nowhere, he was almost overcome by the urge to step forward and press his lips to her bare shoulder.

      She turned slightly as she slid an arm into a sleeve, and he realized the garment was a shirt. And now he had an even better view of the bra she was wearing. A barely there scrap of lace with low-cut cups that hugged the curve of her breasts.

      He swallowed. Hard.

      He started to back away, so that she wouldn’t know he’d caught her half-undressed. But he suddenly seemed to be having trouble with blood flow to his brain. Or maybe it was to his legs, because instead of backing out the doorway, he backed into the door, causing it to crash against the wall.

      Fallon gasped and whirled around.

      Now he had a perfect and unobstructed view of her front, and it was even more spectacular than her back. Because, of course, there were breasts front and center. Delicate swells of creamy flesh that were beautifully showcased by the white lace.

      “Jamie!”

      He lifted his gaze to her face, saw that her cheeks had turned the same color as her hair. “What?”

      “Get out!”

      “Oh. Right.”

      He backed into the door again, then turned around and fled.

      * * *

      Fallon’s fingers were unsteady as she worked to fasten the buttons of her shirt. She could still feel the heat in her cheeks, though she didn’t think the rush of blood to her face had been the result of embarrassment as much as arousal.

      And it had been arousal she’d seen in Jamie’s eyes, too. She was certain of it. Okay—almost certain.

      But how would she know? When had a man ever looked at her with desire in his eyes? Maybe she was just seeing what she wanted to see, because she so desperately wanted to believe he might feel even a tiny bit of what she felt for him.

      Aside from some flirting and a few kisses, she didn’t have a lot of experience with the opposite sex. Yeah, she’d been hit on occasionally. Probably because there were a lot more men than women in Rust Creek Falls and any woman who walked through the doors of the Ace in the Hole on a Friday or Saturday night could expect to be hit on. But now that she was thinking about it, she couldn’t remember the last time that had happened. True, she hadn’t been to the local bar in several months, but since the flood a couple of years earlier, there had been an influx of people from Thunder Canyon and other neighboring towns to help the residents of Rust Creek Falls. And while the majority of those people had gone back to their own homes, many had chosen to stay—most of them women. As a result, the local demographic had shifted. Now that there were a lot more young and single women in town, the local cowboys were happy to spread their attention and affection around.

      Fallon had absolutely no objections. She’d never wanted anyone but Jamie. Unfortunately, except for that one kiss seven years earlier, he’d never given her any indication that he felt the same way.

      She huffed out a breath and pressed her hands to her still-hot cheeks. Obviously she needed another minute or two before she could face him again. Thankfully, there was the rest of the load of laundry to be folded, which she did while trying not to think about what he’d been thinking when he’d looked at her.

      Because it was possible that his wide-eyed, slack-jawed expression had been shock rather than arousal. Certainly he would have been shocked to discover her in his laundry room in a state of semiundress. Maybe even appalled—and wasn’t that possibility like a bucket of icy water in her flushed face?

      Before she’d finished folding the clothes, she heard, through the baby monitor that she carried with her everywhere she went, sounds of rustling and cooing that were the general precursors to any or all of the triplets waking up. And then she heard Jamie—the low, soothing murmur of his voice as he entered the room and began talking to his children.

      She knew it wasn’t easy for him—being both a father and a mother to three babies in addition to performing the majority of day-to-day chores that came with owning and managing a ranch. And yet, when he finally got back to the house at the end of his long days, his first thought was always of his children.

      Of course, she knew how much family meant to Jamie, and she understood why it was so important to him to ensure that his children always knew how much they were loved. Because he’d been orphaned at fifteen and separated from his siblings soon after. And as far as she knew, neither Jamie nor Bella had heard a single word from any of the others since.

      Losing most of his family in such a short period of time had made him determined to keep his own family together, no matter what. Which was why Jamie had been not just furious but deeply hurt when he ran into his grandfather at Crawford’s a few months after the babies were born and Matthew Baldwin had suggested that the children might be better off if Jamie put them up for adoption, so they could go to homes with two parents to care for them.

      Although Fallon believed the old man had offered this advice out of a sincere desire to help guide his grandson through a difficult situation, she didn’t believe it was the right advice. And it renewed her determination to help in any way that she could to ensure that Jamie never needed to worry about losing his children.

      When the laundry was folded, she headed upstairs and found him in the babies’ room, changing Katie’s diaper. Henry was standing up, holding on to the bars of his crib and chewing on the top rail. Jared was still sleeping, his arms flung out at his sides. He was the only one of the babies who had hated being swaddled as an infant.

      “Need a hand?” she asked.

      He lifted Katie off of the changing table. “Sure—you can take her downstairs. I’ll bring Henry and Jared when they’re ready.”

      “Okay.” She took the little girl from his arms, and he immediately turned toward Henry’s crib without looking at her.

      “Apparently this is going to be awkward,” she said, standing beside the changing table with Katie propped on her hip.

      “I’m sorry.” He carried Henry to the table and began unfastening his overalls.

      “Sorry this is awkward?”

      He finally lifted his gaze to meet hers. “Sorry I walked in on you in the laundry room,” he clarified.

      “Forget

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