Page 37 of Darla's Christmas Knight
She chuckled. “You remember that?”
“I do. And later, when I dropped you off at your brother’splace, your parting words were, ‘So, do cowboys come with a warranty, or is this a one-time ride?’”
“I did not say that,” she protested. But she had. She remembered, too. She also recalled how excited she’d been when he’d contacted her the next day and asked her out.
His expression sobered, and he twisted his torso to face her fully. “You’re a stunning woman, Darla. Inside and out. A wonderful friend. An excellent caregiver. A fantastic lover. And you’re going to make a superb mom.” He lifted her hand to his mouth and placed a kiss on the back. And his gaze, glittering with emotion, held steady as it locked with hers. “And I am so incredibly grateful to be on this exhilarating journey with you.”
Wow. Just … wow.
A loudpingsounded, jarring them both. Annoyance flashed across his face as he released her hand and palmed his cellphone. He read the text. “I need to go back to the stables,” he said. “New arrival. A filly.”
She held her disappointment in check. “Go. Dinner will take a while to prepare. And it’s meatloaf. It will hold if you’re a bit late.”
A grin, acockygrin, formed. “You’ll wait?”
“I’ll wait.”
He kissed her, a quick peck on the lips, and stood. “Your meatloaf is my favorite.”
“I know.”
That cocky grin widened. “Till later.”
“Till later.”
At the door, he stopped and looked back. “I like knowing you’ll be here when I return.”
His words lingered even after he left.
“Three,” she whispered into the empty room. “I want three children.”
*
She was fast asleep when he returned several hours later. Bobby removed his jacket and boots, added a few more logs to the fire she had started, and moved closer to the couch. Firelight danced across her smooth skin, casting a glorious tawny glow to her cheeks. He resisted the urge to sink down to his knees and kiss her senseless. Strip her naked and—
Taffy meowed and jumped onto the armrest beside her head. He scooped up the cat. “Behave,” he whispered, placing Taffy on the floor.
“We’ve made peace,” Darla said, stretching out her legs.
“Bollocks, love. I woke you. Sorry.”
“I was resting my eyes, not sleeping,” she snipped.
Bobby grinned. She was so full of shit. Her breathing had been even and deep not three seconds ago.
“Your filly sorted?” she asked, pushing upright.
The move pulled the soft cotton she wore taut against her breasts, and Bobby fought back the wave of desire. Especially because she had changed out of the tailored blouse she’d arrived in and donned one of his T-shirts. He really liked Darla in his clothes.
And hereallyliked having her in his home. Walking into the cabin, seeing Darla resting on his couch, smelling the food she had cooked in his kitchen … nirvana. Even better, he liked the subtle message it portrayed. Things were changing between them.
He folded his arms and leaned a hip against the back of the couch, his stare hot and lascivious as it raked over her. “My filly is … where she belongs.”
She narrowed her stare. “Did you just callmea filly?”
“I’d never,” he lied, and changed the subject. “Smells delicious.” And it did. His stomach had been reminding him fora while that breakfast had been a long time ago.
She stood, and Bobby followed her to the kitchen, enjoying the sway of her hips in his sweatpants as she plodded across the floor in sock-covered feet. He stopped at the sink and gave his hands a thorough scrub, despite having cleaned up before leaving the stables. Drying his hands on a paper towel, he turned and caught her bending over the open oven. And noticed the outline of her panties visible beneath the tight fleecy material.
