Page 29 of A Baby for the Texas Cowboy
“Second thoughts?” Catalina asked.
So many second, third and fourth thoughts.
“About the job? No,” Tinsley answered.
“Liar,” Catalina accused. “I can hear your doubts from here.”
Tinsley stood up from the lounger and walked a few feet to the wide blue tile staircase and stepped into the pool.
“I loved working the sponsor events on the tour,” she said. “It was fun, and I loved the challenge, but I was ready for a change. Verflucht is a good fit now,” Tinsley said sitting down and leaning back on the stairs so she could watch a few fat white clouds lazing against the endless blue.
“But I’d be lying if I said I don’t have doubts about having a baby. I wasn’t thinking about kids or settling down. And my mom was not an example I would want to emulate.”
Massive understatement.
“Mine too,” Catalina surprised her by admitting. “She took my teen beauty pageant sister and left my dad, brothers, and me and never looked back.”
Tinsley blinked.
“So we both have steep learning curves ahead,” Catalina said. “Good thing I like to read. I’m thinking we will need a parenting library up at the house. Maybe throw in a few books on relationships for the boys.”
“Not necessary,” Tinsley said. “Anders and I are not dating and aren’t in a relationship.”
She sat down on a lower stair so that her body was immersed to her neck. Some of her hair tumbled into the water, and she let it. She loved swimming and being in water, but the pool was chillier than she’d thought, and a breeze had sprung up.
She could feel Catalina’s attention burning a hole in the back of her head.
“So if you have any fantasies of matchmaking, abandon ship. I don’t even want to talk to Anders right now.” She stood up and water streamed off her as she walked back to the longer and picked up the neatly folded plush blue and white beach towel. Tinsley wrapped it around her body. “He strapped my bike in the back of his truck and thinks he somehow has something to say about my life. We aren’t even dating.”
“Yet.” Catalina shaded her eyes and looked up at her.
Tinsley sat back down and stretched out. “Never,” she said. “He’s acting all choirboy, talking about responsibility. He even gulped and dragged out the archaic shotgun wedding imagery as if Texas is still back in territory days—like I want a man hanging around out of duty.”
“Duty?” Catalina had been taking a sip of ice tea and it nearly shot out her nose. Instead she spit the ice tea out on the patio.
“He’s probably on his knees at the church right now lighting candles and thanking any saint who will listen that he made a baby with you so he can lasso you but good.”
Tinsley sat up and, boss or no boss, she glared at Catalina.
“I’m shocked he’s not yet gunning that big monster truck out of town,” Tinsley retorted.
Anders Wolf desired her body. That was all. And in another few months, they wouldn’t even have that between them. “Anders and I are not a thing.” She waved her hand. “We had a very brief thing and both ended it. The oops doesn’t change that.”
“We don’t know each other all that well yet, but you are way, way off course if you think Anders Wolf is going to make a baby with you and then stroll off into the Texas sunset.”
“I pictured him driving off to the next tour date,” Tinsley said calmly, but she could feel her heart start to pound again. She felt too edgy to just sit here, hearing Catalina speculate or tease her about what Anders would or wouldn’t do next.
Out of the corner of her eye she saw August and Anders come out on the patio, wearing swim trunks, and she had to force herself not to notice that Anders wore no shirt.
“I love your spirit; play hard to get all you want,” Catalina said. “Anders loves a challenge, and women have never been that for him, so have your fun while you can. The Wolfs are all about family. Girl, you’re going to get lassoed, tied down, branded.” She picked up her ice tea and drank a deep sip.
Tinsley stood quickly and looked for an escape, but the world tilted crazily. Dimly, she could hear Catalina talking, but she sounded far away.
Tinsley found it hard to breathe. Her vision blurred and her hearing felt muffled. But far off she heard a high-pitched ringing. She sat back down and bent over. She needed to lower her head. And a paper bag, right? She tried to suck in air, but her throat felt squeezed shut, and she clawed at it. Her heart rate accelerated.
She squeezed her eyes closed, feeling beyond ridiculous. She hadn’t had a panic attack in years and now twice in one day.
She didn’t want to be that woman—the head case. The fragile one.
