The Cowboy's Christmas Proposition Read online

  Chance laughed. “As opposed to a fake kid?”

  “You know what I mean,” Cord grumbled. “Babies don’t talk. Or play ball. Or do stuff.” He eyed the women. “And I’m betting Cassie is giving you the same pitch as the rest of the wives.”

  Lifting his shoulders in a philosophical shrug, Chance said, “I figure they can all get their baby fix hanging out over here.”

  Forgotten in the banter, Deacon growled under his breath. He didn’t want these daily invasions. Okay, granted, it was sort of nice to take a break from the constant vigilance of watching over Noelle, but he’d scheduled this time at home to get away from crowds and people. He’d hoped to write some songs, to ride—though that was on the back burner now—and just hang out at the one place that gave him peace. Thank goodness none of his brothers was married; otherwise he’d have no time alone.

  Cash poured another cup of coffee for himself. “Roxie treats that damn dog of hers like a kid. I think I’m safe for a while.”

  Nudging his twin, Chase laughed. “You love that dog as much as she does, Cash.”

  “Shhh. She doesn’t need to know that. And I figure as soon as Pippa pops, they’ll all have a new baby to fuss over.” Cash winked at Kade before turning his gaze toward Deke. “So, you want Barron Security to look into the situation?”

  Deke nodded. Cash was the one cousin he really wanted to speak to. “Yeah. There’s not much to go on and that trooper is supposed to be investigating. Knowing the governor, the Oklahoma Statue Bureau of Investigation is probably involved, too. I’ll keep Noelle until you find the mom. Then we’ll figure things out from there.”

  “What happens if Cash doesn’t find her?” Chance asked. “Have you thought about the future?”

  Deke pursed his lips, considering his answer. He hadn’t shaken the thoughts of settling down and starting a family that had been floating in his brain just prior to finding the baby. Not that he believed in karma or the universe dropping a big ol’ sign like a baby on him, but he still wondered at the timing. The munchkin had been in his life not even forty-eight hours, yet he couldn’t imagine not hearing her sleepy sounds through the monitor, not filling his nose with the sweet scent inherent to babies. Well, as long as they were dry. He chuckled.

  “I can’t honestly say, Chance. Keeping her would mean a lot of changes. I’d need to hire a nanny because I’m not an idiot. With my schedule, there’s no way I could be a full-time single dad. After New Year’s, we go back to touring for a couple of months. Then we plan to take time off, work on the new album. I could be here.”

  “You aren’t seriously considering keeping this child, are you?” Chance’s eyes narrowed and he looked like he was ready to launch into a lecture consisting of all the reasons it was a bad idea.

  “I don’t know, Chance.” Deke held up his hand to stall further comment. “I’m aware of all the negatives. Trust me. And remember, I am not an idiot, despite what y’all, my brothers and my mom seem to think. Best-case scenario, the mother turns up soon, and we can help her through whatever it is that made her leave Noelle on the bus. Christmas is coming. I’m betting she—”

  “There are other considerations,” Cash interrupted. He glanced at Chance and got a slight nod in reply. “What if this is a setup? We can’t ignore any ulterior motives the mother might have.”

  “I’m aware of that, too. That’s why I’d rather you track her down and we figure out what her deal is before the cops do.”

  Cash nodded, exchanging another look with Chance, but it was Chase who spoke up. “I’ll have our PR people work on damage control—”

  “Chase—”

  “Just in case, Deke. Let Cash do his job and let me do mine while waiting on results of the test. As family, we only have your best interest at heart.”

  The doorbell rang. Roxie popped up off the floor to answer it. The men sitting around the kitchen island swiveled their heads to see who had arrived.

  “Speaking of best interests...” Kade, heretofore silent, waggled his brows suggestively.

  * * *

  Quin was startled by the redhead who opened the door. There’d been a whole new fleet of vehicles in the drive as she arrived; she should have suspected that Deacon’s harem would show up. She wasn’t expecting so many women, though. Then her brain kicked into gear. These weren’t fangirls. No, that would have been too simple. She was facing the very formidable Barron wives.

  “May I help you?” the redhead asked, one brow arched. She obviously wasn’t expecting Quin.

  “That’s just the nanny state checking up on me, Roxie.” Deacon’s voice wafted above the sudden silence.

  Roxie Barron. Quin put name and face together. Roxanne Rowland had married Cash Barron of Barron Security earlier in the year. Quin had done her homework and was finally matching names, faces and spouses. Roxie had been at the casino Friday night. Stepping around her, Quin stopped at the edge of the living area. The women were spread over the couches and chairs while the men were gathered in the kitchen. Odd, until she realized the baby was in the living room. She had to stifle a laugh.

  The women fawned over the baby while the men huddled together, like there was strength in numbers, as far away from the kid as they could get. Quin couldn’t help but wonder if there would be a Barron baby boom a year from now. She fixed her gaze on Deacon. He didn’t look any happier to see her than she was to see him. She lowered her eyes the moment she recognized the heat in his. Warmth climbed up her neck, flushing her cheeks. She’d counted on his anger, in light of his instructions to Chance Barron, but this flare of desire between them knocked her off balance.

  The tingling in her lips and the quivers lower in her body didn’t help matters. Of all the guys she’d come across in her life, why did it have to be this one that got her thinking about monkey business instead of her job? She had nothing against men or dating, it was just that most of the ones she came in contact with weren’t suitable because they were candidates for arrest, or they were put off by her job. The last thing she wanted or needed was to get involved with a spoiled star with daddy dilemmas.

  “As you can see, Trooper Kincaid, Noelle is fine and being spoiled rotten. Last time I checked the state statutes, spoiling a baby wasn’t a felony.”

  She caught a twinkle in his eye. Was he flirting with her?

  “No, just a misdemeanor, and bad parenting,” Quin wanted to bite her tongue. She was not flirting back.

  “Ah, I see. Good thing my attorney is present.” His mouth quirked. He was flirting with her.

  “He seems to be everywhere you are. That makes you a suspicious subject.” She couldn’t stop her response, even as she dug the hole deeper.

  “Does that mean I’m a person of...interest?”

  Quin curled her lips between her teeth to keep from answering. Innuendo dripped off his words. They weren’t flirting. Really they weren’t. Flirting with Deacon Tate was a bad thing, especially after that kiss—the one she was desperate to forget. She blinked and discovered he was halfway across the room, headed her direction.

  “Suddenly at a loss for words, Trooper?” He was right there, inches from her face. Everything feminine in her body perked right up. This man punched all the right tickets and she wanted to take the ride. Except she couldn’t afford the complications.

  “A smart person only speaks when there’s something worthwhile to say.”

  Deacon leaned in and whispered, “Oh, I have plenty to say, Trooper Kincaid. And not just with words.”

  She shivered, a reflex from his warm breath in her ear. Thank goodness she was wearing Kevlar because her chest brushed his and without the vest, Deacon would know exactly what he was doing to her. Working to control her expression, she leaned back so she could see his face. In doing so, she caught a glimpse of everyone else. Ten people were staring at Deacon like he’d grown two heads.

  * * *

  Deacon struggled to control his breathing and his desire. He wanted to take her into his arms. Or back her again
st the wall. Again. He wanted to taste her mouth. Again. And he wanted to do a whole lot more. Except they had an audience. How had he forgotten that? His cousins needed to leave. Right now. And Noelle needed a long nap. Immediately. And he definitely needed to get Quincy out of her uniform and into his bed.

  Which was not the brightest idea he’d ever had. The woman obviously didn’t like him—or his family. She seemed convinced he couldn’t handle Noelle, that the baby would be better off in foster care. That wasn’t happening. Despite their differences, he couldn’t deny his attraction to her. She was...tough. Forceful. Strong. Beautiful. And sexy beyond belief.

  They stood there, staring at each other, both of them breathing hard. Was she remembering the feel of his mouth on hers? Of their bodies pressed together? He was so hard he worried his zipper might break. Walking across the room had been torture and he hoped no one noticed the obvious. Standing close and breathing in her peach-cobbler scent left him throbbing.

  One of his cousins whistled a tune Deke recognized—Jason Aldean’s “Burnin’ It Down.” As much as he wanted to be alone with Quincy, it was best they had chaperones—even smart-alecky ones. The last thing he should do was get involved with the cop investigating Noelle’s abandonment. He stepped back, which was harder than he’d anticipated.

  “Why exactly are you here again?” Deke asked, focusing on business, not pleasure.

  “I’ve been ordered to make a daily welfare check.” She sounded breathless, if officious.

  “As you can see, Noelle is once again healthy, happy, fed and clean. Is there anything else, Trooper Kincaid?” He smiled slightly, figuring his dimple was putting a punctuation mark on the smirk.

  “Look, Deacon, I don’t want to traipse out here every day any more than you want me here.”

  “You’re wrong there, darlin’. You have no idea what I want.” He liked the way her eyes widened at his declaration as her cheeks turned pink again.

  “I am not your darlin’.” She did a decent impersonation of his voice.

  “Yet.”

  “Ever.” Her eyes got all squinty and her mouth scrunched up. The expression was so exasperated and cute it was all Deke could do to keep from kissing her right then and there. “Argh. Don’t even,” she threatened, backing away from him, one hand reaching back for the door.

  “Same time tomorrow, darlin’?” He stepped toward her, grabbing for the door as she ducked away.

  The door slammed shut.

  Eight

  Deke hadn’t meant to slam the door. Really. The wind caught it and pulled it shut. Well, that was his story and he’d stick to it as he turned around and faced ten pairs of eyes. Eleven if he counted Noelle’s. Except hers were screwed up tight and her mouth was open for a mighty wail. He was all too familiar with that expression but he knew how to preempt the crying jag.

  He waded through the wives, plucked the baby from Jolie’s arms and kept walking. Noelle’s impending tears were a good excuse to hide away from his nosy family. He settled in the big, wooden rocking chair he’d installed in the makeshift nursery. Crooning a song and rocking always worked on the baby girl.

  Deke had about ten minutes of peace before the door eased open. He was surprised to see Kade standing there.

  “You draw the short straw?” Deke kept his voice soft and slightly singsong.

  His cousin, only recently acknowledged as one of the late Cyrus Barron’s sons, ducked his head to hide a grin.

  “Naw. They probably don’t even know I’m gone. That said, once you get out there, the questions are gonna fly. That trooper hit the radar of every wife and your reaction didn’t exactly go unnoticed. Is there something we should know?”

  Deke made a face, and Kade held up both hands in front of him, backing up a step. “Not my business. Got it. And it’s not really the reason I’m here. I know you aren’t running much livestock these days, but now that you’re caring for the baby, if you need help, all you have to do is call. It’s not like you have a wife or babysitter to leave Noelle with while you work down at the barn.”

  “Good point, but my foreman lives on the ranch. He’ll cover everything until Christmas and then he’s taking his family to Texas for the holidays. As long as the weather stays good, I can put her in—” Deke looked around “—something. That carrier thing that fits in the car-seat base. Or the buggy.”

  Kade’s gaze settled on a box on the floor. Snagging it, he slit the tape holding it closed and pulled out something that resembled a small backpack. “You can use this, too. We have one like it. You stick the baby in it and strap it on, carrying her across your chest. As long as it’s not subfreezing, you could at least go feed the horses.” Kade and his new wife were expecting, and apparently he’d done his homework. He looked down at the toes of his boots. “You do know you can’t put her in the car seat in the truck and just...leave her, right?”

  Deke didn’t laugh, but he wanted to. “Yeah. Got that. She needs to be right there within sight because...helpless baby.” He didn’t add the “duh” but it was implied.

  Laughing softly, Kade nodded. “Yeah, figured. But you know, the women...” They exchanged knowing looks. “Have you thought about hiring a nanny or something?”

  “Cash will find the mom before long. I can cope until then. Or call the Bee Dubyas in a pinch.”

  Kade laughed again. “That’s true. Anyway, if you need me, I can come feed, or I can send one of my hands.”

  “Dude, you’re going to have your own hands full soon enough. Pippa looks like she’s ready to pop any day now.”

  Kade blanched and sank onto the end of the bed. “Yeah.” He looked up, his expression bleak. “I’m terrified.”

  Gazing down at the baby now sleeping so peacefully in his arms, Deke murmured, “Yeah, I know the feeling.”

  * * *

  Quin would have banged her head against the steering wheel but she was driving at highway speeds on the interstate.

  Her visit with Deacon couldn’t have gone any worse. As soon as she saw all the vehicles in the drive, she should have turned around and...what? Run away like a scared dog with her tail tucked between legs? She really needed to find the mother, like yesterday!

  Determined to do just that, she headed toward Troop A HQ, rather than home. She had a change of civilian clothes in her locker there. It was Sunday. The place would be quiet and she’d have access to databases from the department computer that she wouldn’t have on her laptop at home.

  Eight hours later, her stomach burned from too much caffeine and too little food. She had a list of people to contact on Monday, when state offices were open. Leaning back in her squeaky desk chair, she closed her eyes and swiveled a little from side to side. She tapped out a rhythm on her desk with a pen. What if Noelle’s mother wasn’t a native Oklahoman? If she was simply a fan of Deacon’s, the girl could have come from any of the surrounding states.

  Sitting up with a sigh, she made more notes: Arkansas, Missouri, Kansas, Texas. Midwives. Hospitals. She doodled on her pad, realized the black lines vaguely resembled a bus. How had she gotten to Thunder River? She added cab companies to her list. And bus lines. If the girl came in from out of state, maybe she got here by bus. With luck, they’d still have security footage at the station downtown.

  Quin dropped her chin to her chest and rubbed her stiff neck muscles. She had no idea when the girl had arrived. It would take days to go through the footage and all she had to go on was a woman carrying a baby in a basket. Needle, meet haystack. Pushing back from the desk, she walked to the window, to discover that night had fallen. Time for a hot shower and a good night’s sleep, then she’d hit the investigation hard in the morning, which was Monday. Ugh.

  A half hour later, after a stop for fast food, she stood under the steaming spray of water in her shower. Tension melted from her body, and her mind drifted to the one place she really needed to avoid—thoughts of Deacon Tate. And that kiss. The feel of his body—far more muscular than she would have guessed—pressed ag
ainst hers. With the weight and stiffness of her Kevlar vest between them.

  She’d spent a lot of time observing the man. The way his long hair fell across his forehead. His dreamy blue eyes that could go from star sapphire to ice at the whim of his mood. Broad shoulders. Muscular arms and chest. Lean hips. And his hands. Yes, she pretty much had a love affair going with his hands. He had long fingers and the strength in them was evident every time he touched her. She knew his fingertips were calloused and rough from when he’d touched her bare skin.

  And she was right back to their kiss. His kiss. He’d kissed her. She hadn’t kissed him back. Nope. Not. At. All. Quin thunked her forehead against the tile. That kiss could never repeat itself. It had been a huge breach of ethics. Not to mention that Deacon Tate could be dangerous to her equilibrium. And her heart.

  Sleep was out of the question now. Her body was hot and achy. She slid her hands over her torso and stomach and pretended he was touching her. She replayed the kiss in her memory, the way his teeth nipped her lips, the way his tongue teased against hers. Quin could almost taste the way his skin had smelled—tart lemon and almondlike cookies, sage and cedar like walking in the woods.

  So much for a hot shower. If she was smart, she’d switch the knob to Cold. Since she wasn’t much of a masochist, she left the water temperature alone and just gave in to the urges created by thoughts of the sexy singer. She wasn’t sure how much longer she could resist his charms.

  Her visits needed to be perfunctory—a quick peek at the kid and then she’d hit the road. No problem. The less time she spent with Mr. Too Sexy For His Jeans, the better. And she needed leads to find the baby momma, who was the basis of this whole fiasco. The water went lukewarm and she shut it off. Nothing like a good dose of thinking about work to get her back on track.

  * * *

  Quin always volunteered to work Thanksgiving Day. Other troopers had families to share the day with and the last place she wanted to be was with hers. She’d rather be out on the highways making sure other families got safely to their destinations. Except this Thanksgiving, she had one extra duty. Ugh.