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“Are you sure you’re okay?” Gavin asked.
The skin on Violet’s arm was as pink as her face. She sat up. He couldn’t help but note the rise and fall of her chest beneath her shirt.
Oblivious to the sexy direction of his thoughts, she scoffed playfully. “You mean aside from my wounded pride?”
He grinned at her and sank down on the bed. He still felt the drumbeat of arousal. Winking, he teased back, “I kind of like you as a damsel in distress.”
She crossed her arms over her breasts. “You’re so funny.”
He shifted closer. “I’m serious, Violet.”
Her heart raced. She didn’t know whether it was the fact they were suddenly both in the oddly unexpected situation that had them responsible for the future of baby Ava, or the fact that he was—and always had been—so damn sexy.
Lone Star Baby
Cathy Gillen Thacker
CATHY GILLEN THACKER is married and a mother of three. She and her husband spent eighteen years in Texas and now reside in North Carolina. Her mysteries, romantic comedies and heartwarming family stories have made numerous appearances on bestseller lists, but her best reward, she says, is knowing one of her books made someone’s day a little brighter. A popular Mills & Boon® author for many years, she loves telling passionate stories with happy endings, and thinks nothing beats a good romance and a hot cup of tea! You can visit Cathy’s website, www.cathygillenthacker.com, for more information on her upcoming and previously published books, recipes and a list of her favorite things.
Contents
“So it’s true? You’re really going to do this?”
Violet McCabe swung toward the sound of the low, gravelly voice. Gavin Monroe stood framed in the open doorway of the partially converted stable-house, dark brows lowered over his mesmerizing blue eyes.
“Do what?” she parried back, trying not to be swayed by the determination radiating from his tall, masculine frame or the sensual curve of his lips. “Go glamping for the next three months?” She was baiting her ruggedly confident colleague. “Or say no to the attending-physician position at Laramie Community Hospital?” One of two positions that had been offered to her.
Gavin strode closer, all indomitable male. “Both.”
Pulse jumping, she watched as his gaze swept the exposed wooden beams supporting the high pitched roof and the large ceiling fan whirring overheard. Then it moved downward to take in the autumn sunlight pouring in through the windows of the rustic, cement-floored space she was about to call home.
“Glamping is going to be fun.” She pointed to the Conestoga wagon that would serve as her bedroom. The area in front, which held a couple of braided wool rugs and her living and dining room furniture, would comprise her entertaining space. To one side of that was a hallway that led to a small utilitarian bathroom with shower, sink and commode.
On the other side of the sliding, front barn doors was her camp kitchen.
“You think so now.” He walked closer to the metal sink, antique wooden worktable and shelving unit. “But when you tire of such a primitive setup...”
When it came to cooking for one, Violet knew there was little she couldn’t do here. Except maybe entertain her parents, five sisters and four brothers-in-law and all their kids.
She shrugged and stepped close enough to inhale the crisp male scent of his cologne. “Then I’ll go into town or visit friends and family.” She had plenty living in the area.
He folded his arms across his brawny chest. “We need you at the hospital.”
And she needed a new lease on life, more desperately than anyone
