Rancher to the Rescue. Jennifer Faye
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“This afternoon Gram needed some stuff in town. So while you were napping I drove her. We picked up some essentials. Whatever doesn’t fit can be returned or exchanged.”
Her mouth gaped. She wasn’t used to such generosity. Harold had always been a stickler for keeping their expenses separate. At first she’d found it strange, but she didn’t mind paying her own way. In fact she’d soon learned she liked being self-reliant and the freedom that came with it.
“But I can’t accept these,” she protested.
Cash frowned. “Why not?”
“I don’t have any money to pay you back…at least not on me.”
“It’s okay. I can afford it.”
She shook her head. “I didn’t mean that. It’s just you hardly know me and you’ve already opened your home up to me. I can’t have you buying me clothes too.”
His brow arched. “Are you sure that’s the only reason? After all, they aren’t designer fashions.”
“I’m not a snob. Just because I’m on television doesn’t mean I’m uppity—”
“Fine.” He held up his palms to stop her litany. “Consider this a loan. You can pay me back when you get home.”
The idea appealed to her. She really didn’t have too many options. “It’s a deal.”
She bent down and dug through the bag until her fingers wrapped around a pair of bubblegum-colored flip-flops. A little big for her, but it didn’t matter. They fit well enough and they’d be cool in this heat. Double win.
Outside, he held open the truck door for her. She really wanted to walk and enjoy the fresh air and scenery but, recalling they were running late, she didn’t mention it. Suddenly her plans to flee this ranch as soon as possible didn’t seem quite so urgent. This little bit of heaven was like a soothing balm on her frazzled nerves. In fact Cash was making her feel right at home.
The bumps on the way to his grandmother’s house didn’t bother her so much this time, and thankfully it didn’t kick up her nausea. She was feeling better after that nap. Amazing how sleep could make a new person out of you.
Cash pulled to a stop and turned to her. “Before you go inside, I know you’re a fancy cook and all, but my grandmother is a simple woman with simple tastes. She’s proud of her abilities. Don’t make her feel bad if her food isn’t up to your TV standards.”
It hurt that he’d immediately assumed she’d be snooty about dinner. She might be on TV, but she loved home-cooking the same as the next guy.
Heck, if Cash knew she was pregnant and the father had dumped her on her keester, he probably wouldn’t worry so much. However, she had no intention of telling him her little secret. He’d already witnessed her at her lowest point—she wasn’t about to confirm that her entire life was completely out of control.
“I’d never say or do anything to upset your grandmother. I’m very grateful for her kindness.”
“You swear?”
She blinked. He didn’t trust her? “I promise.”
He eyed her, as if to discern if she were on the level. Apparently she passed his test because he climbed out of the truck and she met him on the sidewalk.
The fact he didn’t trust her without even giving her a chance bothered her. Why did he seem so wary of her? Because she was on television? What did he have against TV personalities? Or was it something else?
She most likely wouldn’t be here long enough to figure it out. After she’d had something to eat she’d think up her next move. Yet it made her cringe to think of facing her mother and telling her that she was pregnant and the father didn’t want her or the baby.
Cash trailed Meg into his grandmother’s house. Even the sweet sashay of her rounded backside wasn’t enough to loosen the unease in his chest. In fact it made the discomfort worse.
His mind filled with visions of her bare limbs sprawled across the bed while her assets were barely covered with the sheerest material. It’d taken every bit of willpower to quietly back out of the room and shut the door. No woman had a right to look that tantalizing without even trying.
He couldn’t believe he was letting her get to him. He thought he’d become immune to feminine charms. Take them or leave them had been his motto. And the way this little redhead could distract him with her shapely curves and heart-stopping smile were sure signs he should leave her alone.
“Remember what we talked about,” he said.
“I’m not a child. You don’t have to keep reminding me—like I’d ever be so rude.”
“Good.”
He followed her up the steps to the porch. He wanted to believe Meg, but he’d been lied to by his straight-faced ex-girlfriend. In his experience, when women wanted something badly enough they could be sneaky and deceptive. Now he preferred to err on the side of caution.
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