breath caught.
His saddle creaked when he placed his hands on the pommel and leaned forward, checking her out without the hint of a smile. But she wasn’t smiling, either. Talking to Uncle Roger would be hard enough without an audience.
What was Graham doing here? Hadn’t he kicked his cowboy stage by now? Shouldn’t he be working at Robinson Tech, raking in the dough and living the fast-paced urban life he’d been born into?
Not that he hadn’t practically lived on the Galloping G during the summers when she used to come and visit. Graham and her cousin Peter had been best friends—and almost inseparable. Then, after Peter died, Graham had practically moved in.
She’d had a huge crush on the older teenage boy back then, but he’d only considered her a kid and a nuisance. In retrospect, she could understand why. He’d had his choice of high school girls. Why would he take a second look at her?
Besides, he and Peter were always talking about parties and all the places local teenagers hung out. Once she’d even heard them mention something about skinny-dipping with a couple of cheerleaders. So, no, Graham had never looked at her as anything other than a pesky little kid.
Uncle Roger approached first, which didn’t surprise her. He was, after all, the one she’d come to see.
She tore her gaze from Graham, a wealthy man by all rights who appeared to be more comfortable on horseback than in a snazzy BMW, something he could well afford to buy. At least, he’d never been without a wad of cash in the past. His dad owned a big tech company and had been loaded. He probably still was.
When Roger reached her car, Sasha was reluctant to get out. She hadn’t told him about her pregnancy, although he was about to find out.
He took off his hat, revealing more silver in his hair than the last time she’d seen him. His face had weathered, too.
Her heart cramped at the thought that she and Gabe might have contributed to the signs of age.
“How was the drive?” he asked.
She lifted her hand to her eyes, blocking the glare from the afternoon sun. “It was long. But not too bad.”
Uncle Roger took a peek into the backseat. “Looks like Maddie dozed off. You gonna wake her up?”
“I hadn’t wanted to. She didn’t sleep well last night. We stayed in a roadside motel, which had a truck stop next door, so it was pretty loud outside. But she’s been eager to get here. And to meet you. It’s all she could talk about.”
As Uncle Roger studied her sweet, dozing daughter, Sasha stole another glance at Graham. He was dismounting now.
The years had been good to him, and as he swung a muscular leg over the saddle, all those girlish feelings returned tenfold. For one crazy, thoughtless moment, that silly crush she’d once harbored came rushing back full force and nearly stole her breath away.
She’d never met a man who could hold a candle to Graham in looks. In fact, if she weren’t seven months pregnant and still—at least, legally—married, she’d be a goner.
Well, that wasn’t true. She was older and wiser these days. And she’d learned the hard way that no man was perfect. Besides, she’d be swearing off romance and concentrating on her children for the next couple of years.
“You gonna sit in that car all day?” her uncle asked.
No, she wasn’t about to do that. And while she wasn’t eager to reveal her condition to either Roger or to Graham, she opened the door, grabbed her purse and slid out of her trusty Honda Civic.
The moment she did, Uncle Roger let out a slow whistle. But it wasn’t Roger’s reaction that concerned her now. For some dumb reason, she looked straight at Graham and waited for his response.
* * *
The first thing Graham noticed when Sasha got out of the car and stepped into the afternoon sunlight was that she was no longer the cute little tomboy he remembered. She was a stunning blonde and absolutely beautiful.
But damn. She was also pregnant. And while he was no expert, from the looks of it, she was about ready to deliver.
Were women in her condition supposed to travel, especially on long road trips?
Roger stepped away from Sasha’s car, then strode toward Graham and reached out his hand. “Gimme those reins. I’ll take care of your horse.”
What the hell? And leave Graham to make small talk?
He would have objected and insisted on putting the horse away himself, but Roger was probably afraid to stick around any longer for fear he’d say something to screw things up before he got a chance to take Sasha’s luggage inside. Speaking of which...
“Let me get your bags,” Graham said.
“They’re back here.” Sasha, with the strap of her purse over her shoulder and her hand perched on her belly, rounded the car and opened her trunk.
She hadn’t brought much, just two suitcases, so maybe she didn’t plan to stay long.
“Is this it?” he asked.
“I...uh...” She gave a shrug. “I shipped everything else.”
Everything? What all had she thought she’d need? Was she going to move in?
He lifted both bags from the car, and she shut the trunk. As he carried the suitcases to the front porch, he stole a peek at the lovely blonde.
Somewhere along the way, she’d shed the braces. And in spite of her obvious pregnancy, she’d blossomed into a shapely woman, one he found incredibly attractive. His heart rate had escalated to the point he felt what could almost be classified a sexual thrill just looking at her.
What did that say about him? What kind of man found a pregnant married woman so appealing?
He wasn’t going to stew about it. Instead he shook off the question, as well as any answer he might be able to come up with. He was just surprised to see her and how much she’d changed, that’s all.
“Is your daughter going to be okay in the car?” he asked.
“I’m only going to leave her in there for a minute. I thought I’d put my bags into the room where I used to sleep. But maybe I’d better leave them in the living room until Uncle Roger tells me where he’d like us to stay. I didn’t mean to be presumptive.”
“I’m sure it’s fine to put everything in your old bedroom,” Graham said, leading the way.
As far as he knew, Roger hadn’t changed a thing since Sasha was last here, the summer of her junior year. He’d wanted things to stay the way she’d left them. But after her high school graduation, she’d stayed in Austin to prepare for college.
So she could easily see that the room with lavender walls, dotted with posters, still bore evidence of the teenager she’d once been.
Graham placed the bags on the bed, which boasted a white goose-down comforter.
Sasha
