Page 8 of Cover Me Up

He knew.

Then he saw her walking toward the bar, and the world kind of fell away from him. He didn’t realize he’d slipped from his stool until he found himself standing a few feet away. Snowflakes dusted the hat on her head, and her long hair looked darker than he remembered, the ends waving down her shoulders and back. Her skin was still tanned even though it was mid-November, and she was bundled up but good, her entire body swathed in a long black winter coat. Her head was bent, so she hadn’t spied him yet. He found himself yearning to see the pair of eyes that had haunted him for years.

The guy who’d been behind the bar stepped in the way. Cal waited, unsure how to proceed. He watched the two of them speak, Millie’s face now obscured by the man. Something crept up Cal’s body until it settled into his chest. Something dark and maybe a little possessive. Was this Millie’s better half? It wasn’t inconceivable that she was married. Hell, she’d always had a pack of guys yipping at her heels. He should know. He used to be one of them. But wouldn’t Mike Paul have said something?

“Hey, you look like my daddy.”

The little singsong voice came from nowhere. His gaze dropped to the little angel at Millie’s side. Silvery-blonde pigtails peeked from under a pink Barbie hat, and they framed a cute-as-a-button face that housed big brown eyes and snow-kissed pink cheeks. Her nose was small, her lips like rosebuds, and those eyes, exact replicas of his brother’s, looked up at him adoringly.

She was the perfect mashup of Daisy Mae and Bent. A little girl he’d never met because pride and a whole lot of other stuff had gotten in the way.

Her face scrunched up as she cocked her head to the side, studying him intently. She didn’t say another word, and, unnerved by the steady gaze of a human less than six years old, Cal dragged his eyes from hers until he met Millie’s.

He had no words—they were frozen in his throat. He let himself drink her in, let himself believe this was going to be okay. Her expression was muted at first, but as the seconds ticked by, her eyes began to glitter and color crept across her cheeks—a slow burn, if you like—and her expression changed. It deepened and darkened, and she made no effort to hide her dislike or disdain or whatever the hell it was buried inside her.

“What thehellare you doinghere?” Her voice was like whiskey over ice, rough and sexy all at once. It was the kind of voice that did things to a man. The kind that could cut to the bone. The kind that could excite.

“Miss Millie,” Nora said with a squeal. “That’s a bad word.” Then the little girl looked back at him, eyes older than they should be, fixed and true. “You look like my daddy,” she repeated, as if trying to figure out a puzzle.

Cal cleared his throat and bent down so his head was level with the little girl’s. “That’s because your daddy is my brother.”

“Oh.” Her little nose wrinkled in confusion. “I thought Uncle Ry is Daddy’s brother.”

“He is.” Cal paused. “And so am I.”

The little girl slowly shook her head. “He never tolded me he had another one.”

Throat tight, Cal took a moment and then spoke softly. “I’ve been away.” He glanced up at Millie. “But now I’m back.”

“For five minutes,” she said, enunciating each syllable as if the words tasted like crap.

Cal straightened and slowly shook his head so there was no mistaking his intention. “No,” he replied, keeping his voice light. “Should be at least ten.”

Millie’s eyes flashed. “Thought you were at the hospital with Bent.”

“I was.”

“Then you know he’s all good.”

“I do.”

“So why are you here? You should be riding that fancy bull all the way back to Australia.”

Ah. She’d heard about his private plane. “I think I’m done riding.” He flashed a grin, an attempt to make light, but she wasn’t biting. “For the next little while, anyway.”

“Why are you here?” she repeated, not bothering to hide her irritation or impatience.

“For Nora.”

“What?” Her right eyebrow rose so dramatically, it slipped up underneath the edge of her wool hat. “Vivian is picking her up.”

“Vivian is on her way back to Alaska.” He winked at Nora, who was watching the exchange closely. The air was heavy with the kind of stuff a little girl had no business knowing about. “Uncle Cal is gonna be watching you for the next…” He looked up at Millie. “Ten minutes or so.”

Her mouth opened, but nothing came out, which was something of a miracle because Millie Sue Jenkins was rarely at a loss for words. By the time she found her tongue, he had offered his hand to Nora, who’d taken it without hesitation, and was headed for a table next to the stage.

“You’re staying in Big Bend.” Millie had followed them over. He took the little girl’s backpack and hung it off the chair.

“Didn’t we just have this conversation?”

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