Page 40 of A Baby for the Texas Cowboy
She thought of the distressed metal sign outside that was backlit and had been hand sculpted by a renowned metals artist who lived in Marietta, Montana. Verflucht. Cursed in German, she’d learned.
“Funny, August,” she thought. It fit the family’s history. She avoided Googling any of the brothers. She certainly didn’t want them to Google her. Not that they had her full name. But still. August had let her work speak more than her résumé, although he had mentioned one time that she’d not filled out the next of kin or emergency contact area of her application. He had waited for her to say something, and he’d seemed to radiate sympathy.
She felt a flinch of guilt for misleading Anders, but shrugged it off and ran back upstairs to make more tea. She liked that there was an upscale, commercial-grade kitchen in the tasting room. She was definitely going to get more supplies to make tea—she made a face, as she’d always loved coffee. But she would get a Keurig and an espresso machine for the tasting room. She idly wondered what snacks she should serve.
Buy on bread, sell on cheese.
She’d read that this morning in her research. So cheese, definitely, because she wanted to sell a lot of wine. And she was only going to use local artisan food suppliers to create goodwill and also positive buzz, because while August Wolf was a local, the town had not been especially pleased that he’d opened a tasting room right on the middle of the main street.
The wine tour bus crashing through the window of the building he’d spent so much to convert had created more than a little schadenfreude, Tinsley suspected. She made her lemon lavender tea and then returned downstairs thinking of food, and curses, and ghosts—everyone had them—but how could she tie…?
“Aaaaaah!” Tinsley—so deep in thought—screeched as a shadow caught her eye when she stepped on the second to the bottom stair. Then the shadow, hulking and broad and backlit from the light streaming in through the rolled-up door to the backyard, loomed in front of her.
She missed the step, spilled her tea and would have fallen down, but she was caught in strong arms. At the same time, she hissed as the heat from the tea soaked through her leggings. Her teacup crashed to the floor and broke.
Soft, masculine swearing tickled her ear and once again she was being carried. Anders set her down on the cement countertop of the high-end tasting room kitchen and peeled off her leggings.
“This is becoming a bad habit.” She bit her lip to keep from crying out even as the pain was beginning to ebb. “You picking me up and ripping off my clothes.”
She expected him to smile, but his face was serious as he examined her thigh, which had a large, pink splodge. He ran a dish towel under cold water and laid it over her thigh.
His expression seemed shuttered, and he examined her with a clinical detachment that pinged her feminine pride. Once he’d been so hungry for her body. Now that she was pregnant, he didn’t seem interested at all.
But you don’t want him to be.
That defense rang hollow even to her ears, and she wanted to kick herself. She didn’t want to still be attracted to Anders Wolf. She didn’t want him or to care about him while he headed back on tour to do whatever he wanted with any buckle bunny to catch his eye. She’d seen the lines of primping, giggling women waiting for the bull riders after a show. And he’d been one of the cowboys most in demand.
No thanks.
“This could be considered workplace sexual harassment,” she said airily.
Anders wrapped some ice from the freezer in the cold, wet towel and laid it over her pink thigh.
“You’ll have to take that complaint up with the boss,” he said.
“I just might.”
“He’s already chewed my ass today.”
“Charming visual. Did you enjoy it?”
Anders looked so aggrieved that she nearly laughed. Nope. Not forgiving him for…for what? She wasn’t even sure what she was so upset about anymore.
And that’s how it starts.
Panic shot through her. No. She had to stay strong. Independent. Alone.
“He saved me the trouble. I’ll have to thank him.”
A smile ghosted Anders’ lips. “He enjoyed it. The privilege of being a big brother.”
“Too bad there’s not a younger brother you could boss around instead of me.” She laughed and then realization hit and she covered her mouth with her hand. “Oh. I am so sorry Anders. I spoke without thinking. Your brother. Aurik. Oh.” Her brain clicked in. “That’s why August called it Four Wolfs,” she said. She had thought it had been about his brothers and father.
He looked up from her leg, his beautiful blue gaze somber. “Yes, it’s for me and my brothers. I was the youngest.”
“I always wanted a sibling,” she said.
“An only, huh?”
