have no idea what my weight is,” Sara said, turning the subject away from the notion of him “carrying” her.
“Bet I could guess.”
The way he said it caused a tickling sensation in her stomach. She usually squashed this kind of flirty conversation. It was too personal, and she needed to keep her distance. But something about him, the I-dare-you-lady expression, made her want to accept the little challenge. “Okay. Winner gets the onion-ring loaf.”
His eyes widened. “High stakes. How close do I have to get?”
Sara stared at him, feeling her pulse leap. Close.
“In pounds,” he clarified.
Her mind going blank with relief, she pulled a figure out of nowhere. “Two pounds.”
“Oooh. That’s tough.” He shook his head. “I’ll give it a try.”
That was when Sara realized this conversation had been a huge error. Daniel’s gaze measured her neck, and she felt the warmth of it as if his hands gently touched her skin. He studied the width of her shoulders down her white silk blouse to her elbows. Then she watched the motion of his eyes as they moved to the bow that rested against her throat.
Sara’s breath hung suspended while, ever so slowly, that violet gaze lowered to assess her breasts. Beyond her lacy bra his gaze caressed like fingers, cupping the weight of her, testing her softness. Sara felt a stinging arousal shoot straight to her nipples. Her face flamed with heat, and she nearly grabbed a napkin to hide herself.
Daniel stared straight at the center of her swollen breasts.
Sara bit her lip. Unable to stand his scrutiny any longer, she crossed her arms. “Time’s—”
“One hundred and seventeen pounds,” he said in a rough voice, reaching for his water glass. “One nineteen after you’ve just gotten out of a shower and you’re soaking wet.”
He sounded as if that last idea appealed to him. How had this discussion gotten so intimate? “How on earth did you guess?” she choked out.
He gave a chuckle and shook his head. “You wouldn’t like my answer.”
“Why?”
“Because my expertise comes from hauling bags of feed and sizing up livestock.”
“So,” Sara said, knowing she should be insulted, but smothering laughter instead, “as a point of reference for guessing my weight, you used cows and horses.”
Daniel grinned. “You’re exaggerating. More like pigs and goats.”
This time Sara laughed. She couldn’t help it.
The waitress delivered the food, and during the course of the meal Sara had a tough time keeping up her guard. It was difficult to remain prim and proper when you were up to your elbows in barbecue sauce.
“Is your schedule busy in the winter?”
Daniel shrugged. “It’s nothing like spring or summer, but there always seems to be enough to do. Old Mr. Johnson had a dead tree he wanted cut into firewood, so I took care of that yesterday. I’m in charge of the emergency services for Beulah County. I twist arms and try to get the mayor to spend more money.”
Nothing he told her surprised her. People depended on Daniel, and he came through. “And now there’s the wedding for your brother and Erin. They both seem very happy,” Sara said.
Daniel nodded. “He worships the ground Erin walks on.”
“What do you think of that?”
Daniel paused for a moment, thinking. “She’s done something for him no one else has. He’s different now. He even laughs more.”
“You sound surprised,” Sara said, wiping her fingers.
“I guess I am. Garth’s always been the wild one. It’s as if he’s been looking for something for a long time, and he finally found it. I always worried that he wouldn’t.”
Sara smiled. “Do I hear the big brother talking?”
Daniel felt a twist of irony at the question. He hadn’t always enjoyed the role of big brother. “Yeah,” he admitted reluctantly. “What about you? Do you have any brothers or sisters?”
“Not that I know of,” Sara said dryly.
He frowned, thinking that was an odd response. “Does that mean you might have some, or you just don’t know who they are?”
Sara debated sharing any of her background with Daniel. It wasn’t something she was proud of. She rarely discussed her past. Then again, it would show the contrast in their upbringing. Maybe Daniel would draw the logical conclusion that they weren’t suited, and his interest would wane. The thought brought relief and a certain, unwelcome uneasiness.
Pushing away the uneasiness, Sara went ahead. “I didn’t have the same kind of family life you did—and still have.”
Daniel shrugged. “Most people don’t have six brothers and one sister.”
“No. I mean, my mother was what we now call a single parent.”
Continuing to study her, he took a sip of beer. “Like Erin,” he said.
“Not quite.” What an understatement. Erin Lindsey loved her son. She would lay down her life before she gave up her child. Sara hesitated, feeling her appetite wane. “My mother didn’t have time to care for a child. She was busy with other things.”
“Like?”
“Men.”
Daniel was raising his glass to his mouth but stopped midmovement. There was a wealth of emotion in that one word—men. He noticed that she’d tensed up again, and he wondered who Sara blamed, her mother or the men. He saw the turbulence in her eyes and felt a corresponding ripple within him. “Bet that was tough.”
Sara searched his features, expecting to see disdain or disapproval. She found neither. “It was when I lived with her.” Unpleasant memories swam from the back of her mind. “And sometimes when I didn’t.”
“You lived with other relatives sometimes?”
She shook her head. The other relatives hadn’t wanted anything to do with her. Bad breeding, they’d said. And, in some ways, she thought, feeling a twist in her stomach, they’d been right. She blinked away the thoughts. “Foster homes.”
“What about your dad?”
Sara stared at the table. She wished she’d kept her mouth shut. Saying it out loud only made it worse. “I’ve never met him.”
A hint of vulnerability showed in her voice. It grabbed at his gut and pulled. She wasn’t whining or cursing, yet, despite her composure, a little hurt and shame came through. He wasn’t immune to it. Daniel cleared his throat. “I’m sorry.”
Surprised, Sara looked up, but instead
