Blame It On Babies. Kristine Rolofson
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“Could we just forget about that night?”
Lorna asked.
“I guess that was an unusual night for both of us.” Jess believed anything she told him, he realized. But he still had the nagging sense that there was something else she hadn’t told him.
“I’d like to take you to dinner,” he said, sounding as casual as possible while he thought about what her body felt like. And how sweet she tasted when she parted her lips for his kiss. He wanted her more than he wanted to breathe.
“It’s not necessary,” she replied. “Honest.”
“I’d like to anyway.”
“I can’t.”
“Are you involved with someone else?” Jess wondered, ignoring a fierce stab of jealousy.
She shook her head.
“Then you’re free to have dinner with me Friday night.”
“Mr. Sheridan, I really can’t go out with you.”
“Call me Jess,” he said. “I’ll pick you up at seven.” He turned quickly and went down the porch steps. He didn’t want to hear her objections, didn’t want to hear her refuse his invitation.
He was a patient man. He could wait until Friday.
Dear Reader,
Welcome once again to Beauville, Texas!
Blame It on Babies was such fun to write, especially when it opened with Jake and Elizabeth’s wedding in the town square. Pookie is there, wearing a tux in honor of the festivities, and so are all the cowhands from the Dead Horse Ranch. A waitress serving barbecued ribs at the reception and a bitterly divorced wedding guest end up together at the end of the evening. Six months later, Jess and Lorna’s volatile romance gives the townspeople lots to talk about!
You’ll meet these characters again, plus some other familiar friends, in my next book, Blame it on Texas, a Harlequin single title available in March 2001. You’ll see what happened to Elizabeth and Jake, plus learn a few of the town’s best-kept secrets, when the Good Night Drive In is turned into a retirement home and Dustin Jones, former cowhand at the Dead Horse Ranch, meets up with his first love.
I love hearing from readers, so please let me know what characters you’d like to see again in future Beauville stories.
Best wishes!
Kristine Rolofson
P.O. Box 323
Peace Dale, RI 02883
Books by Kristine Rolofson
HARLEQUIN TEMPTATION
765—BILLY AND THE KID
802—BLAME IT ON COWBOYS*
Blame it on Babies
Kristine Rolofson
MILLS & BOON
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Contents
1
JESS SHERIDAN HAD NO USE for weddings. He was only attending this one out of respect for the man standing next to the bride, an impressively beautiful woman he’d seen shopping in town a few times. She’d looked pleasant enough…but didn’t they all?
Until the ring went on their finger, that is.
He watched Jake Johnson kiss his bride and applauded with the rest of the Beauville residents as the justice of the peace pronounced them married. Then he acknowledged Jake’s grin as the groom walked Mrs. Johnson back up the makeshift aisle toward the blue-and-white striped tent set up in the corner of the park. There’d be a makeshift bar in that tent, considering the amount of ice he’d seen being unloaded in that direction. No one would go thirsty this afternoon, not if the rumors were true about Jake sparing no expense to celebrate his sudden wedding to someone he’d known only a few weeks. The man was taking a chance, Jess figured, but no one had asked his opinion so he kept it to himself.
A cold beer would go down real good right now, considering a July afternoon in Texas had to be what hell felt like. Lucky he was used to it, like most folks around here, or else they’d expire before the barbecue ribs and corn bread were served over in the Grange Hall across the street. Jess looked around and saw some of the hands from the Dead Horse looking as if they were as thirsty as he was. Young Calhoun looked pale, probably hungover, if the rumors were right about him being dumped before getting married himself and drowning his sorrows in Jack Daniels ever since.
The kid spotted him, which made Jess wish he’d hurried to the beer tent a little faster.
“Sheridan!”
“Calhoun.” Jess braced himself for an onslaught of questions, but the group of men from the Dead Horse seemed uncharacteristically silent. “Nice wedding,” was all he could think of to say. Inwardly he wondered if Jake would be able to keep his ranch after the divorce or would his wife carry a bag of money back to wherever it was in New England she came from.
“What a shindig!” The young man wiped his brow with the back of his sleeve. “I’m glad that’s over. Jake made us wear these neckties.”
“And