Page 30 of Carly's Heart

God, he was glorious. His muscles flexed and bulged. His T-shirt pulled up exposing his flat abs. Apparently ranching kept him fit. Really fit. Sexy, hot fit.

“You’ve never brought a woman here before?” She didn’t believe that. A guy like him must have dozens of dates.

“Well, I just moved in and I’m not dating, so no. No other woman has been here. Except Tanya and Mom.” He stood and stretched. His sweats dropped lower and his shirt rose higher. She barely resisted licking her lips and showing him just how interested she was.

“But in truth, I have never brought a woman home, except for when I was dating in college. That was eight years ago. I haven’t dated anyone in the past three years.”

“Why in the world not? It’s not like you’re ugly.” She snapped her mouth shut and bit the inside of her cheek to keep from making further comments.

“Because I met a woman, a special woman, and she doesn’t even know I’m alive. I’ll make coffee.”

“She’s an idiot if she doesn’t see you for what you are.” She followed him into the kitchen, trying to ignore his sexy bare feet.

“And what am I?” he asked, a weird tone in his voice.

Her mind blanked for a second. She inhaled before she spoke. “You’re a talented rancher, a good brother and fabulous son. You’re kind and generous. You’re good with children. You’re helpful and giving. You cook. You’re gainfully employed. You’re probably perfect husband material.” She was doing it again, spouting off without thinking.

“Thank you.” He turned his back to her and started coffee. “Breakfast?”

Something was off about their conversation. It was stilted on his end and too revealing on her part. What was going on in his mind? “Breakfast would be great. I want to see how well you cook. Getting pizza right is one thing...” she trailed off, teasing him like he was a friend.

Maybe they could be more than friends. She had a five-alarm hangover this morning, but at least she wasn’t acting like an idiot around him or having trouble talking to him. “Just let me check on Mike and Layla first.” She shrugged, if he didn’t understand that kids came first, there was no sense in explaining it to him.

“Absolutely. I’m craving bacon and waffles. I’ll get them started while you make your call.”

She went into the other room for privacy. By the time she talked to both Mike and Layla and got back to the kitchen, he had breakfast well under way. “I’m good to stay. Mike wants to keep her another night. Now that she’s older and a little more interactive, he wants longer custody hours. We’re negotiating, and this is a test run.”

She hated that her daughter’s father still had trouble relating to a three-year-old. Her enormous vocabulary made a person forget she was only three and often acted it. But he was trying to be a good father. Layla adored him and that’s what mattered most.

“Wouldn’t he be over that unease if he’d spent more time with her as an infant?” He flipped some bacon.

“Yes. How did you know he didn’t spend much time with her?” She paused. “Tanya, of course.”

“And you. Did you not notice how often I was around when you visited? I was always in earshot, trying to learn more about the woman who barely talked to me. Man, I washed more dishes, by hand, since your divorce than I have in my life.” His back was to her, and she wished she could see his expression. She ran through some memories and was startled at how often he was around when she was with Tanya. Never intruding, but always nearby.

“How did I not notice that? I must have been blind.” She’d been crazy about him and hadn’t done the math on how often he was around. The math? She hadn’t even noticed. Talk about being blind to what was right in front of you.

“It did seem that way at times. I was starting to feel like a stalker. You know, hanging out hoping you’d pay attention to the lonely bachelor who hung on your every word.”

“Were you stalking me? Seriously? That’s so creepy.” She teased with a laugh.

“Six years, Carly. You’ve known me for six years,” his voice was dark with frustration. “When have I ever done anything creepy? Sure, I hung around a lot, but you always knew I was there. After you broke up with Mike, you became uncomfortable with me at the diner, so I stopped coming in so often. If you didn’t seem to want to talk to me, I didn’t push it.” He dropped his fork; it bounced off the stove and onto the floor.

“You astound me,” he said, his voice heavy with frustration. “You’re the most helpful person I know. You always notice when someone needs a hand. You help old ladies across the street, you do volunteer work. You’re kind to strangers. You notice everyone. Except me. Until last night I felt like you didn’t even know I existed.” He scraped his hands through his hair and massaged his neck.

Her mouth dropped open. How had she been so oblivious to the fact that he cared?

“I’m sorry.” The words were inadequate.

His laugh was dry and harsh. “I’m so freaking in love with you and you’re oblivious. Wake up and smell the coffee, Carly.” He snapped off the burner and moved the pan aside. “Come on, I’ll take you home.”

“Wait,” she called, trailing after him to the door. “I didn’t mean...” she floundered for a proper apology. He’d startled her with his words. She’d been oblivious to his interest, which had to be some kind of stupidity record because she was crazy about him.

He slid his bare feet into some cowboy boots and grabbed his hat. His keys jingled in his hands. How did he look so good in sweats, a T-shirt, and boots?

“Can we talk about this?” she begged. “I did see you. I swear.” She grabbed his arm and he jerked free to open the door. He was mad. Birch Brighton never lost his temper. How could he be so upset over a simple misunderstanding?

“I’ll drive you home.”

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