Page 33 of A Marriage Pact for the Cowboy

What was he finding so fascinating in this sermon? The same thing as her?

“Hey, would you two like to join us for lunch?” Maxwell had made his way toward Eryn and her dad so quickly after the benediction that he still held his nephew, Jamie. “We’re headed to the Golden Grill down near the lakefront.”

Aunt Nadine turned to Eryn. “Oh, you should go. You need to experience their food and ambience.”

Maxwell chuckled. “Or you could head back to the ranch and reheat a bowl of chili Nadine left in the walk-in cooler. It’s great chili, but you’ll have plenty of chances to experience it over the winter.”

“Are you saying my menu is repetitive?” Aunt Nadine swatted at his arm, but the grin on her face gave her away.

“In the best way,” he assured her then turned back to Eryn. “My treat.”

“Oh, you don’t have to do that,” Dad protested. “The ranch provided us with a larger relocation allowance than we needed. We can pick up our own tab.”

Then it would feel less like a date… which was probably for the best. Still, Eryn eyed Maxwell a little warily. What was that about? He wasn’t all that experienced at wooing women, but he hadn’t thought it would be this hard to gain trust once he’d made up his mind.

Bryce didn’t seem to have any trouble getting women on the same page, at least temporarily. Wally had married his high-school sweetheart.

Tate, like Maxwell, had been somewhat reclusive before he’d met Stephanie, but their relationship had shot into outer space in the blink of an eye, and they’d married within a couple of months of meeting. Made Maxwell feel like a sluggard. After all, he’d reconnected with Eryn a couple of weeks ago. Shouldn’t they be practically engaged by now?

“That sounds nice.” Eryn’s quiet voice interrupted his thoughts.

His gaze swung to meet hers. She was on track with imminent engagement? No. Lunch. Lunch at the Golden Grill was on the agenda, not wedding bells. Maxwell needed to get his head in the game and focus on that whole one-step-at-a-time thing.

Hard to do. At work, he made and implemented snap decisions while juggling half a dozen subcontractors, often on more than one project at a time.

That decisiveness was not going to work with Eryn Ralston… even though it apparently had worked on Tate’s wife. Or maybe Stephanie had done just as much pursuing as Tate had. They’d certainly been on the same page as far as speed went.

“Gamma Dean?” Jamie reached for Aunt Nadine.

“You sweet thing.” Nadine plucked the boy from Maxwell’s arms then turned toward Weston and Paisley. “See this adorable child? Don’t take too long getting a few of these happening, okay?”

“Wedding isn’t until spring, Mom.” Weston rolled his eyes. “Hold your horses.”

Paisley giggled. “But after that, look out!”

Maxwell chuckled. It was no secret that Paisley wanted a large family. He couldn’t help but wonder how Weston would do with a bunch of noisy kids ripping around, but the cowboy had mellowed considerably since succumbing to Paisley’s charms a few months back. Probably he’d be the disciplinarian and voice of reason to Paisley’s indulgence. Or maybe not.

Maxwell turned to Keith. “You can follow my truck, or I can give you directions. It’s not hard to find.”

Weston grimaced. “Or just follow anyone from the church parking lot. Seems like most everyone is headed there.”

“But not us today.” Paisley batted her eyes at Weston as she leaned against him. “We’re off to Missoula for the afternoon.”

Maxwell shook his head at the smirk on his cousin’s face. Who would ever have thought it? The dictionary might as well have had Weston’s image beside its entry for grumpy before Paisley had won him over.

“Anyway.” Maxwell turned back to Keith. “The Golden Grill faces the town square a block up from the beach. Can’t wait to see you there.” He reached back for Jamie. “Come on, bucko. Let me take you back to your parents.”

“Are they coming, too?” Eryn asked softly.

“No, they usually go to Stephanie’s parents’ house for Sunday lunch. It’s just Bryce and me today.”

Eryn’s nose wrinkled for a second, and Maxwell did a mental fist pump. That reaction wasn’t one of attraction. For once, he was winning where Bryce was losing. Not that he was the least bit interested in any of the other women Bryce flirted with. This one, though? He’d fight his brother for her.

Jamie squished Maxwell’s cheeks between his small palms and peered into his eyes.

Ouch. That hurt. “What, bucko?”

“Luff you Unc Max.”

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