Chapter Three

      “Kaylee, no!” Marissa called, but it was too late. Her three-year-old had pushed her little doll stroller, with a yellow rabbit tucked safely inside, into a huge display of cereal boxes in Crawford’s General Store. They came tumbling down, narrowly missing her.

      “Oopsies,” Kaylee said, her face crumbling. “Sorry.” The girl hung her head, tears dripping down her cheeks.

      Oh God, Marissa thought, shaking her head. After waking up twice during the night to comfort Kaylee, who had a tooth coming in, she’d had a crazed morning looking for Kiera’s other red light-up sneaker and then Abby’s favorite shirt, which had “disappeared” from the folded-laundry basket—it turned out it was never put in the hamper. That was followed by a three-hour shift at the reception desk of the sheriff’s office, ending with getting yelled at by Anne Lattimore’s neighbor for not sending an officer to deal with the dog-being-allowed-to-walk-on-the-edge-of-my-lawn-issue. Marissa didn’t need one more thing. But here it was. And it was only eleven in the morning.

      “Kaylee, it’s—”

      She swallowed her okay as the girl ran sobbing down the aisle, running so fast that Marissa had to abandon her cart and leap over the boxes of Oat Yummies littering the floor.

      “Ah!” Kaylee said. “A giant!”

      Marissa dodged a few more cereal boxes and glanced up into the amazing blue eyes of Autry Jones.

      The man she’d been unable to stop thinking about. After soothing Kaylee back to sleep last night, Marissa had been so tired she’d squeezed beside her on the toddler bed, imagining Autry’s long, lean, muscular physique beside her before she’d finally drifted off to sleep.

      “Oh, thank God,” Marissa said. “She sure is fast. A human roadblock was just what was needed.”

      Autry laughed. “Should we find the runaway train’s mother before another display of cereal boxes comes tumbling down, this time on top of us?”

      Marissa tilted her head. Was it strange that he didn’t assume the little getaway artist was hers? “You’re looking at her. She pushed her doll stroller a smidge too far and that was that. This is Kaylee. She’s three going on ready for the Olympics.”

      Kaylee continued to stare up at “the giant.” Marissa was five feet six and a huge supporter of comfy flat shoes, and Autry towered over her at at least six foot two, so she could understand why Kaylee thought she was dealing with a fairy-tale giant. He was much better looking than giants usually were, though.

      “Yours?” Autry said, staring at Marissa.

      “Are you a giant?” Kaylee asked, craning her neck.

      Autry knelt down in front of the girl. “Nope. I’m an Autry. Autry Jones. And it’s very nice to meet you, Kaylee. You know, when I was a kid, I would race my brothers up and down the aisles of supermarkets until the manager marched over to yell at us.”

      Kaylee tilted her head, understanding only about half of that. “Did you win?”

      “I won every now and then,” Autry said. “But with four brothers and me right in the middle, there was always one bigger and faster or lighter and faster.”

      “No fair,” Kaylee said. “Guess where we’re going now.”

      “Grocery shopping?” Autry asked.

      “But guess why we’re here,” she said.

      “To buy groceries?” Autry suggested, covering his mouth so he wouldn’t laugh.

      “We’re getting picnic stuff,” Kaylee said. “Sandwiches and fruit and cookies. You can come, too.”

      Marissa watched Autry stiffen. Yup, there it was. He now knew she was a mother, likely figured she was divorced or widowed and so had taken a literal and figurative step back.

      “Sweetie,” she said to her daughter, “Autry is in town to visit his family and I’m sure he has plans for the day.” Marissa waited for him to jump on the out she’d just given him.

      “What kind of sandwiches?” he asked Kaylee, still kneeling beside her.

      “Peanut butter and jelly—my favorite,” the girl said.

      Autry smiled. “That’s my favorite, too. I’d love to come. I have two hours before I have to meet my brothers at my hotel.”

      Marissa stared at the man. Did he just say he’d love to come? That peanut butter and jelly sandwiches were his favorite?

      Huh.

      “Yay!” Kaylee said.

      A millionaire executive cowboy was coming to their picnic. Why did Marissa have the feeling this would not be the first time Autry Jones would surprise her?

      * * *

      Whoa boy. What the hell was he doing? When Marissa had told him the cute little girl was hers, for a split second Autry had almost gone running out of the grocery store. No single mothers. That was his rule. And he didn’t have many rules. But instead of racing out the door, he’d said yes to going on a family outing. And that was after Marissa had given him a perfect and easy out.

      So why hadn’t he taken it?

      Because he’d been unable to stop thinking about Marissa Fuller since he’d first laid eyes on her yesterday at the Ace in the Hole. He’d been hoping to talk to her after The Great Roundup ended, but by the time he’d woven his way through the crowd, she was gone. He and his brothers had met up at his hotel and they’d talked for a while over good scotch in the lobby bar. He’d wanted to ask Walker and Hudson if they knew Marissa, and surely they did, since Rust Creek Falls was such a small town. But Autry realized he didn’t want to hear anything about her secondhand; he wanted to get to know her himself.

      You can still run, he told himself as he carried the grocery bags containing their picnic and walked alongside Marissa, who held her little girl’s hand. They were on their way to a park Marissa had mentioned that was just a bit farther down Cedar Street. He could make up a forgotten appointment. Someone to see. And book the hell away.

      But he kept walking, charmed—against his will—by cute Kaylee’s light-up sneakers and the way she talked about the puppy that stole her sandwich the last time she went on a picnic with her mom.

      “Well, this time, I’ll guard your sandwich from every puppy in the park,” Autry said.

      He felt Marissa’s eyes on him. Assessing him? Wondering if he was father material? He wasn’t. He was in town temporarily, end of story. As long as he kept his guard up, his wits about him and his eye on the prize, which was to drink in the loveliness of Marissa Fuller for a few weeks, he’d be A-OK.

      He glanced at Marissa, surprised again at how damned alluring she was. The woman wore jean shorts, a short-sleeve blue-and-yellow-plaid button-down shirt and orange flip-flops decorated with seashells. Her toenails were each polished a different sparkly color, and something told him she’d let Kaylee give her the pedicure. She wasn’t wearing a stitch of makeup, and her wavy, long dark hair fell past her shoulders.