Twins For The Rancher. Trish Milburn

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Twins For The Rancher - Trish  Milburn


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of the road. When the car slowed and stopped next to him, he looked over and saw Lauren staring back at him. She looked confused, probably because she hadn’t passed any disabled vehicles between her building and him.

      “Need a ride?”

      “I’m good, thanks.”

      As if to negate his words, a rumble of thunder picked that moment to accompany the overcast skies.

      “I wouldn’t be very neighborly if I let you get drenched, would I?”

      With a sigh, he opened the passenger-side door and slipped inside the car just as the first raindrops fell.

      “Thanks.”

      “No problem. Where to?” Thank goodness she didn’t ask him why he’d been hoofing it down the shoulder of the road.

      “Primrose Café, downtown.”

      “They have good food?”

      “Yeah.”

      “Great. I’ll give it a try, too. Was headed out in search of lunch, just hadn’t decided where. Though I look a fright.”

      “No, you don’t.” Far from it. “And besides, the Primrose isn’t fancy. You’ll see everyone from tourists to ranchers who have a load of cattle waiting outside.”

      When they reached the café, the parking lot was pretty full. With her small car, however, she was able to squeeze into a space that would hold only about half of his truck if he split it down the center. Thankfully, the spot was close to the door.

      “One of the joys of having a small car,” she said. “Along with great gas mileage.”

      They raced for the front door to the café, which he held open for her.

      “Thanks.” She offered a brief smile, but it was enough to make his insides feel wobbly. He looked away, trying to convince himself it was just his hunger reasserting itself.

      Lauren got the attention of a waitress when they stepped inside. “Who do I see about placing a to-go order?”

      “Any of us. But honestly, you’ll probably get your food faster if you just eat here. We got a big group takeout order in about two minutes ago, so you’d be behind all those. Different cook working on dine-ins.”

      Adam looked around the crowded room, not unusual for this time of day, and spotted a two-top over by the wall. He caught Lauren’s gaze and pointed toward the table. “You’re welcome to join me if you think you can stand me a little longer.”

      He tried not to take it personally when she hesitated a little too long before nodding.

      They’d barely sat down before a woman at the next table said, “Oh, my God. You’re the Brazos Baker, aren’t you?”

      Lauren smiled, similar to the smile she showed on her website. It was different than the more natural ones she wore when not in what could be considered the public spotlight.

      “Yes, ma’am.”

      “I don’t believe it.” The woman looked at her friends, who suddenly appeared just as excited. “We all love your show.”

      “I made your pineapple cream cake for my daughter’s wedding,” one of the other women said. “I had to hide the top tier for her and her husband or it would have been gobbled up, too.”

      “Well, I’m glad everyone enjoyed it.”

      The back-and-forth was interrupted by the same waitress who’d greeted them at the entrance. “What can I get for you?”

      They hadn’t even cracked the menus open, not that Adam ever had to. Other than the daily specials, the menu at the Primrose didn’t really change. Still, Lauren hadn’t been here before.

      “She needs time to look at the menu,” he said.

      “No, I’m okay. You go ahead. I can decide quickly.” She opened up her menu to give it a quick perusal.

      “Burger and fries for me,” he said, not feeling the daily special of turkey and dressing.

      “That actually sounds good,” Lauren said. “Give me that, too.”

      When the waitress hurried away, Lauren pulled out her buzzing phone. “Sorry, I have to respond to this.”

      “No need to apologize. You’re a busy woman.”

      She flew through answering the text like a teenager who could text faster than she could speak. He took the opportunity to text Angel for a ride home after he ate. When he looked up, Lauren pointed at his phone.

      “Looks as if I’m not the only one.”

      “Arranging the family version of Uber.” At the curious expression on her face, he confessed, “I might have run over a deer and crunched the front of my truck on the way into town.”

      “Oh, no. My sister once completely destroyed her car when she hit, I swear, the biggest buck I’ve ever seen. He was like a ninety-eight-pointer or something.”

      He laughed at that mental image. “Bet he had a neck ache before his untimely demise.”

      One of those genuine smiles appeared on her face, and he swore he’d never seen anything so beautiful.

      The waitress had been right. She appeared with their food just as the other staff members behind the counter started bagging up a large number of takeout containers. As their waitress moved on to her next customers, he noticed a couple of the women who’d been chatting with Lauren were now looking at him. They smiled then shifted their gazes away, but he felt odd, as if they’d been sizing him up.

      He’d taken one bite of his burger when the group of women started making moves to leave. When they stood, the one who’d originally recognized Lauren drew her attention again.

      “I’m so glad to see you doing well and moving on. The way that boy treated you was so wrong. I wanted to hit him upside the head with my purse, and it’s not an unsubstantial weapon,” she said, lifting what to Adam’s eyes looked more like a piece of luggage.

      “Uh, thank you.” Lauren’s answer sounded strangled, as if she suddenly wished she was anywhere but where she sat.

      Thankfully, the women didn’t stick around any longer, especially since one of the waitresses was already clearing their table so more customers could be seated. But Adam only saw that activity with his peripheral vision because his gaze was fixed on Lauren and how any hint of a smile, of happiness, had just evaporated right before his eyes.

       Chapter Three

      Lauren had read books where the characters were placed in situations so embarrassing that they wished for a hole to open up and swallow them, but she’d never experienced it herself. Not until now anyway. Even during the trial Phil had forced her into with claims she’d promised him half her business, she hadn’t experienced the need to pull herself into a shell to hide like a turtle. Then she’d had her attorney beside her, and she’d been filled instead with righteous anger and a fierce determination to prove that Phil was full of crap and not entitled to one red cent of her money.

      The determination had paid off. Only after it was all over did she realize the emotional toll it had taken on her. But as the woman had said, Lauren was moving forward—just not in the way the other woman had assumed. Before Lauren figured out some way to correct her while also not offending Adam, the woman and her friends were already headed for the exit.

      Oh, how she wished she hadn’t gotten a text from Papa Ed earlier that he and the girls had already eaten and were about to take a nap. She’d intended to order her lunch to go so she could head back to work. She wanted to get a good amount accomplished but also leave plenty of time to play with Bethany and Harper before their bedtime.

      Movement across the


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