The Come-Back Cowboy. Jodi O'Donnell
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He looked about to argue, and her heart stopped. Then he gave a nod, making the promise. “I won’t tell him.”
Deke seemed to realize at the exact moment she did, what had just transpired: Once again, he’d given her his word. And once again, she would have to give him her trust.
And where was the choice in that? she almost asked him but didn’t. There was no time, for just then the door of the truck opened and out stepped Connor Brody—the man who would be her husband.
And Jace’s dad.
Deke turned at the sound of a vehicle door slamming to see a man in a Western-cut sport coat, stand-up stiff blue jeans and spit-shined ostrich-skinned boots. When he doffed his white Stetson, the sunlight glanced off the shine on his dark hair and clean-shaven face, while at the same time carving out the Clint Black-deep dimple in his cheek.
There was something familiar-looking about the guy, but Deke couldn’t put a finger on it.
“Mornin’, darlin’,” he said, sparing not a glance toward Deke, the smile on his face all for Addie.
Deke’s antennae sprung to full alert. He shifted an assessing eye toward Addie, who was pushing her hair back from her suddenly flushed face. What was going on here?
“Mornin’,” she answered. Obviously not wanting to make introductions, she went on briskly. “I’m all set to go.”
The man glanced toward the house. “What about Jace? Isn’t he—”
“No! No, he’s not fit company this morning.”
She wouldn’t look at Deke, which made him even more suspicious. Who was this city slicker to Jace, anyway?
He sure looked disappointed, some aspect in his downcast face making Deke wonder again where he’d seen him before.
“Well, shoot. He ought to be with us, y’know, when we make our decision, if we’re going to start out like a real fam—”
“No!” Addie interrupted again. “Believe me, we’re better off lettin’ him get out whatever burr’s under his saddle on his own. So! We’d better get on the road. Don’t want to be late for our appointment.”
It was pretty apparent to Deke that Addie wanted to be shed of him as quickly as possible. Hopping from one foot to the other, she shoved her toes into her high heels while trying to get past him without so much as a by-your-leave.
The man gave a huff, which distracted Deke again with that sense of familiarity he’d be damned if he could place.
“Well, sure, but how about a hello kiss from my fiancée first?”
That sure enough came through loud and clear. His fiancée?
As luck would have it, Addie’s heel caught in a crack in the plank floor, and she stumbled beside Deke.
He bent down to pull the heel out, just as Addie stooped to do the same, his gaze seeking hers, hoping he was wrong.
Her face was even more flushed than before. She refused to meet his eyes.
Damn her! he thought as the reason for her guilt became abruptly clear to him: she intended to slot this guy into place as a father for Jace—and just seconds ago she’d extracted his promise that he wouldn’t tell Jace he was the boy’s father!
“I guess I’m not used to wearin’ these shoes,” she mumbled by way of an excuse.
He wasn’t going to let her get away with it. Even knowing he shared some blame for her situation, that he hadn’t the least right to be anything approaching angry, Deke still was. Deathly so.
“But somehow you seem to think you can fill mine for Jace pretty well, don’tcha?” he said.
That brought those blue eyes flashing up at him in defiance. Straightening, she lifted her chin before descending the steps to reach her boyfriend’s side.
“Of course you get a hello kiss—darlin’,” she said sweetly, offering him her lips.
Obviously about as mashed for a woman as a man could get, the fellow wrapped his arms around Addie and enthusiastically pressed his mouth to hers.
Sure, Deke could have made as big a show of not watching. He wanted nothing less than to give her the satisfaction of knowing she’d gotten to him in this instance.
But the truth was, he couldn’t have looked away if his life depended upon it, and so he stood there in a hell of his own making, as this man with his shiny boots and country-singing-star looks kissed the stuffing out of Addie Gentry.
Finally, she broke the kiss and turned toward him, the other man’s arm lingering at her waist. It did Deke some good to see in her eyes the defiance, and not the look of a woman who’d been thoroughly and satisfyingly kissed.
He held her gaze without a flicker of emotion.
Her intended finally seemed to notice the silent byplay between them, for he spoke up. “I don’t believe we’ve met. Connor Brody’s the name.”
If he’d been stunned before, now Deke felt his blood stop dead in his veins. “Brody? Any relation to—”
“Mick Brody? He’s my dad.”
Of course. Of course. If Addie had wanted to put a fine point on just how unsuited the two of them had been for each other, she couldn’t have done a better job than to pick a Brody. He’d never met this particular Brody before, but he’d once had more acquaintanceship than he wanted with Connor’s father, Mick. And from the looks of it, Connor had all the qualities his father had been swift to point out as lacking in Deke’s father and Deke, foremost among them responsibility.
No! He had been responsible—if not in those hours leading up to D.K. Larrabie’s fatal mistake, then every single day after that. And if Addie would just give him the chance, she’d find that out!
Except, from what she had just said, he had no chance of gaining her regard or her forgiveness. The very thought that he couldn’t, nearly sent him back down the road again, in spite of everything.
But he couldn’t go. Whatever his failings before, that didn’t excuse him from doing his best by Jace from here on out.
And that meant he’d be damned if he’d stand by while she handed any man the right to be a father to his son.
“And you would be…?” Brody asked after the lengthy pause.
Deke couldn’t have invited a better opening if he’d laid it out himself.
“Well, seein’ as how you asked,” he drawled, “I’d be—”
“Don’t, Deke,” Addie said in a warning that had just enough pleading in it to stir his conscience.
The problem was, she should have stopped there. But in her urgency to keep him from spilling the beans, she stepped forward as she said it. She stumbled again, this time as she caught the toe of her shoe on the gazebo step, which propelled her straight into Deke’s arms.
Her breasts came flush up against his chest as she grabbed his shoulders for balance and his fingers grasped her waist. He just barely heard her gasp over his own stifled groan.
Holding Addie the woman as opposed to Addie the girl was as different as night and day—and yet as familiar to Deke as the fit of his leather work gloves. Because every time he’d ever stroked the back of his fingers across her cheek, every time he’d pressed his palm to the small of her back, every time he’d trailed his mouth down her throat and beyond—all came rushing back to him like the wind across the plain. He had no time to set his defenses against the familiar yearning that quickly followed.
Their gazes collided as surely as their bodies had, and Deke saw in Addie’s blue eyes what he hadn’t minutes before: desire, as strong and stormy—and undeniable—as ever.
He’d