A Passionate Proposal
She couldn’t remember ever seeing him in anything other than jeans or a basketball uniform. Tonight he seemed taller in his pressed khakis, and his shoulders looked broader beneath a pale yellow oxford cloth shirt. The man oozed confidence, and darned if she didn’t find that incredibly sexy.
Good Lord, would she never learn?
She shook her head and sipped her cola. Remember what had happened the last time you gave your heart to Cort Lander? When he’d asked her to the senior prom, she’d thought he returned her feelings. Instead, he’d asked her because her brother had told him that no one else had. A pity date.
She had his basketball buddies—her brother among them—to thank for clearing up that little misconception.
Her only consolation was that Cort apparently never had a clue about the colossal crush she’d had on him in high school.
On the positive side, if bad things came in threes, then between her tenant bailing, her summer job fizzling and the man of her adolescent dreams reappearing she’d met her quota this week. Her luck should now take a turn for the better.
Cort looked up and his gaze met hers across the crowded gym floor. The corner of his mouth tilted in a sympathetic smile, and something inside her twisted. What was Libby telling him now? She cringed. Her best friend was well acquainted with every dirty secret Tracy owned, and bless Libby’s heart, if she knew something, then everyone else soon would. She hadn’t earned the nickname of Loose Lips Libby for nothing.
She could imagine the words “Tracy must be the oldest virgin in McMullen County. Can you believe it? And since she hasn’t had a date in the last five years her status isn’t likely to change.”
Libby told her often enough to get out there and play ball so that she’d be familiar with the rules of the game. Unfortunately, Tracy had known the entire male population of the area since kindergarten and didn’t have the slightest urge to become intimate with any of them. Her lack of interest probably had something to do with the knowledge that most of them were proud of their ability to burp the alphabet.
Swallowing hard, she smoothed her hands over her new linen dress. She’d have to cut in before Libby blabbed more secrets, and that held about as much appeal as a root canal.
Calm. In control. Professional. Silently reciting her mantra, she inhaled and exhaled. She could do this, but it would have been easier if Cort had widened around the middle and thinned on the top like most of their classmates.
It would be easier if she didn’t still feel the imprint of his hand on her butt.
At that moment Cort yawned and stumbled again. The man must be exhausted. Honestly, some people had no sense of when to quit partying and go home to bed.
Tsking, Tracy marched across the floor and tapped her friend’s shoulder. After a sly look, Libby surprisingly relinquished her prize without argument.
This time Tracy ignored her embarrassment and looked at Cort—really looked at him—noting the purple smudges beneath his brown eyes and the tired slump of his wide shoulders. She fought the urge to smooth his dark hair and pull his tired head to her shoulder. Her heart quickened just thinking about such a bold move, but of course she’d never do such a thing—especially with so many people watching.
“You’re dead on your feet. Why are you here when you should be in bed?” She hoped he didn’t notice the catch in her voice when his fingers curled around hers or the fact that she had never learned to dance worth beans.
Cort’s brows rose, and a teasing sparkle lit his eyes. His amazingly sensual mouth curved in a smile. “Is that an invitation?”
Her cheeks flamed and her stomach dropped to her shoes. She glanced over her shoulders to make sure no one had overheard. “It most certainly is not. With the way you’re stumbling around, you’re an accident waiting to happen.”
“And I thought you liked my style.” He tried and failed to smother another yawn as he two-stepped her around the floor.
She didn’t take it personally—even though one of her dates in college had informed her that she could bore a man to death. “Your style is absent tonight…along with your coordination. Would you like for me to drive you home?”
“I can make it under my own steam.”
He looked as if he’d doze off standing up if he stopped moving. “Twenty miles down a straight, dark stretch of road? I’m afraid you’ll fall asleep at the wheel.”
“Are you trying to mother me, Trace?” A gentle smile touched his lips.
She winced. According to her siblings, she mothered everyone. “No. Yes. Probably.”
“Thanks. I’ll accept your offer.” He yawned again. “Guess I’m not much of a party animal tonight, but I sure am glad I came. Wouldn’t have wanted to miss seeing you.”
Warmth swept through her, but she stopped it. Cort was just being polite. He’d always been polite. Too polite. Back in high school she’d wished just once he would grab her and kiss her senseless. She’d have willingly done whatever he wanted in the back of his pickup, but he’d saved that treat for the more popular girls. That was then, and now she had better sense. Thanks to her youngest sister, she’d learned exactly what folks around here called gals who did such a thing.
“My car is the dark-blue sedan parked near the flagpole. I’ll meet you there in five minutes.”
His brows dipped. “We can’t leave together?”
“People will talk.”
“If you don’t want to be seen leaving with me, then I’ll get myself home.”
God save her from the male ego. Oh, bother. “Let me tell Libby where I’m going and why.”
Five minutes later Cort crammed his long-legged frame into the passenger seat beside her. The car seemed darker, smaller and more intimate than when she’d parked it two hours ago. Lord, the man smelled good—like one of those expensive samples that came in her magazines. She tried not to be obvious when she drew in another whiff and then exhaled shakily.
“In a few minutes you’ll be home and tucked in.”
He slanted a sexy, sleepy look in her direction, and she nearly backed into the flagpole. Her mouth dried and her heart hammered. She double-checked to make sure her fingers hadn’t turned into thumbs on the steering wheel, because it certainly felt that way.
A mile down the road the tightness in her throat subsided enough for her to ask, “Are you and your brothers keeping late hours catching up?”
Silence. Tracy glanced at Cort as she drove beneath the area light at the Farm and Ranch Store. He’d fallen asleep. The straight road and the full moon gave her the opportunity to look her fill. Once she’d dreamed of marrying this guy and living happily ever after. But, of course, that was before she’d discovered his plan to go to college halfway across the country. Just as well, popular jocks like Cort never dated geeks like her except out of pity.
Minutes later she parked in front of the Lander home. Moonlight slanted through the windshield, and a cool breeze swept fresh air through the open car windows. Being with Cort brought back bittersweet memories, which she’d deliberately suppressed in the past few years. She didn’t like remembering where she’d come from. Instead, she focused on where she was going.
Their community didn’t have a train track, but it did have a landfill, and the Sullivan house was on the wrong side of it. Folks had pitied them, donated clothes and old toys to them, but she’d never noticed Cort looking down his nose at her. He never seemed to see the shabby house and furnishings, and he never complained about her siblings storming through the kitchen for snacks during their study sessions. If anything, he seemed to like coming to her house for tutoring. As long as the cookie jar was full, Cort had been a willing visitor.
Much as she would like to sit here and reminisce, she had to get back to the gym before folks—namely Libby—started talking. Curving her fingers over the thick muscles of his shoulder, she shook him awake. “Cort, you’re home.”
His eyelids slowly lifted and he smiled sleepily. “Thanks, Trace. You’re a pal.”
“So I’ve been told. Good night, Cort. I’ll see you around.”
He leaned over and brushed his lips against hers before she realized his intentions. Her heart pounded, and she had to fight the urge to twine her arms around his neck. She’d come a long way in the past decade, but men like Cort never settled for less than the best. He sat back and she licked her lips. His taste lingered.
“Count on it.” He winked and sauntered away.
Two
Cort eased into the house as quietly as possible, pausing to listen for Josh’s wail. Silence, blessed, rare silence greeted him.
He leaned against the door and wiped a hand over his mouth. He’d kissed Tracy—twice—and wanted to again. Was he nuts?
Stepping into the den, he flipped the light on—oh, hell—and flipped it back off when Leanna squealed, “Eeek!”
His brother was bare-assed and busy with his sister-in-law.
“Sorry.” Embarrassed, he backed out of the room and hustled to the kitchen. A few minutes later his brother followed him in. Cort said, “I’m sorry, man.”
Patrick fixed himself a glass of water. “She’ll get over it…eventually. You’re home early. I didn’t hear your truck.”
“Tracy Sullivan gave me a ride. She was afraid I’d fall asleep at the wheel, probably with good reason. And I was worried about Josh.”
“He went down about an hour ago. Fussy little critter, isn’t he? He kept you up again most of last night?”
“Yeah. I guess that means he kept you up, too.”
He shrugged. “Babies do that.”
“Yours doesn’t.”
“Matt’s two years old, and he didn’t lose his mother and move halfway across the country in the last week.”
“You think that’s all it is? I know nothing about babies.”
“Consider this a crash course. Besides, you have three brothers and six nieces and nephews who’re willing to teach you everything they know. You’ll get it…eventually.”
“For Josh’s sake, I hope you’re right.”
“Even though you didn’t stay long, I hope the break tonight did you some good. You looked like you were about to lose it.”
Cort shoved a hand through his hair. “I’m just not used to…”
“Struggling?” When Cort looked at him in surprise, Patrick continued. “You were the smart one who never had to work hard for anything. Struggling isn’t something you’ve experienced.”
His brother had no clue how hard he’d worked to get accepted into Duke and to get a partial scholarship. Cort owed Tracy for keeping his nose to the grindstone.
Patrick crossed to the bulletin board and pulled down a business card. “Do you remember Dr. Finney?”
“I ought to. He patched us up often enough, and I worried the tarnation out of him by following him around and asking him questions about his practice. My first paying job was mopping his clinic floors.”
“I forgot about that. I know Josh is your first concern right now, but Doc Finney needs some help at the clinic. Here’s his number.”
In other words, big brother thought he needed to contribute to his bed and board. “I’m only here for the summer. Think he’d be interested?”
“Can’t hurt to ask, and it’ll further your training.”
“I’ll stop by the clinic tomorrow.” He turned to leave the kitchen and stopped. “Patrick, if our being here is a problem…”
Patrick clapped a hand on his shoulder and steered him toward the stairs. “This is your home. It’s not a problem, but make a little noise next time you come in.”
She’d already had her three bad things this week. So why was Cort Lander standing on her front porch with a baby in his arms? And why, since she didn’t really want to see him again, did her heart dance a jitterbug when his dark gaze swept over her?
Embarrassed to be caught in her ratty workout clothes, Tracy blotted the moisture from her forehead. She’d been exercising her behind off—literally. Her cheeks still burned when she thought about Cort grabbing a handful of her abundant derriere.
“Still have that apartment for rent?”
She took in the broad shoulders filling her doorway and the way his black suit accentuated his dark good looks and how his coffee-colored tie perfectly matched his eyes. Her mouth dried. In a word he looked scrumptious. It took her a second to process his question and form a coherent answer. “Yes, I still have a vacant apartment.”
The baby’s round face reddened as if he was winding up for a scream. His dark eyes filled with tears and his bottom lip quivered. Whose adorable baby was this and why had they left Cort in charge? He clearly had no idea what he was doing.
“Can we rent it?”
“We?” Her stomach dropped. He’d said he wasn’t married, but did he have a significant other? If so, then why had he kissed her? She glanced over his shoulder, but no one waited in the cab of his truck.
“Josh and I. And I’d like to hire you to be his nanny for the summer.”
Surprised, she looked at the baby again, this time noticing the similarities between the males on her porch. They shared the same dark hair, deep-brown eyes and straight nose, and although she’d never seen Cort pout, she’d bet his full bottom lip would look exactly the same if he poked it out that way. “Josh is yours?”
“Yes. Is the apartment furnished?” Cort jiggled the baby, but it seemed to agitate him more.
She couldn’t explain the envy curdling in her stomach. Given that she’d practically raised her six siblings, she didn’t plan to have children of her own—not that she had to worry about that since she couldn’t get a date, let alone a husband. She certainly wasn’t going to get upset just because some other woman had borne Cort’s baby.
“Yes. Oh, give him to me. When did he eat last and oh…” The situation became clear as soon as her hand cupped his soggy bottom. “He needs a diaper change. Do you have a diaper bag?”
“It’s in the truck.” He looked reluctant to leave.
“Get it.” On the way to the den she detoured by the linen closet to get a towel to lay Josh on. After spreading it on the rug, she put him down. “Poor fella. You’re a mess, aren’t you? And you’re absolutely gorgeous.”
Those big dark eyes studied her while she stripped off his terry cloth sleeper. “You look just like your daddy.”
“Are you complimenting me or insulting him?” He set the diaper bag down beside her.
Her pulse raced. “You figure it out.”
Josh reached for her, and Tracy couldn’t help herself. She blew a raspberry on his bare chubby tummy. He cackled and windmilled his arms.
“How did you do that?” Cort looked stunned.
“What? Blow the raspberry?”
“No. You made him laugh. He only cries for me.”
He wasn’t kidding. The earnestness in his eyes tore at her heart. Did Cort have an ex-wife? A custody issue? For some reason that bothered her, and it shouldn’t, because Cort’s personal relationships were none of her business.
“Does his mother take care of him most of the time?”
“Kate’s dead. I didn’t even know Josh existed until last week. She didn’t tell me she was pregnant.”
She kept one hand on the squirming baby and pressed the other to the ache in her chest. Her eyes stung. “That’s horrible. You weren’t married?”
He hunkered down and dug a diaper and the wipes out of the bag. Their fingers brushed when she took them from him, and her heart skipped a beat. “No. We split up when she graduated from law school and took a job in Chicago.”
“Why wouldn’t she tell you about this beautiful little boy?” Tracy whipped off the soiled diaper, slipped on a fresh one and then tugged on a clean romper.
Cort crowded her, watching her as intently as if she were performing a delicate surgical procedure. Growing up in a small home with six siblings meant she didn’t require much personal space, but she was very aware that Cort had invaded hers. It made her self-conscious to have him so close and watching her every move.
Besides, he looked and smelled divine, and after thirty minutes of aerobics she didn’t.
“According to her neighbor, Kate didn’t tell me because she didn’t want me to give up my plan to become a surgeon. She knew that I’d been raised by my brothers while dad worked eighteen-hour days, and that there was no way in hell I would have repeated the absentee father scenario.”
“But to keep your son a secret…” She reached out to offer comfort, but drew her hand back before making contact. Touching him last night had wreaked havoc on her senses.
“Don’t feel sorry for me. Save your pity for him. He’s stuck with a lame-ass father unless I—” He stood and shoved his hands in his pockets.
“Unless you what?”
His jaw muscles clenched and he turned his head away. “Nothing.”
“Cort?” Slowly she rose to stand beside him. His gaze met hers, and she caught her breath at his tortured expression. “You’re not thinking about giving him up, are you?”
He shoved a hand through his hair and then massaged the back of his neck. “I can’t help wondering if he’d be better off with two parents or even one who won’t be working the insane schedule of a surgical resident. He’s miserable with me. I don’t even know when it’s time to change his diaper.”
This time she didn’t resist her impulse. She grabbed his biceps, tipped her head back and faced him eye to eye. “I’ve never known you to fail at anything you really wanted to do. You’ll learn how to be a daddy.”
“So I’m told.” He didn’t sound as though he believed it. “If you agree to be his nanny for the summer, maybe you can teach me.”
His nanny. Seeing Cort every day. Having him live upstairs with his bed directly above hers. Oh, Lord. She laid a hand over the knot in her stomach. Could she do that without falling in love with him all over again? Could she survive him leaving her a second time and knowing this time he wouldn’t be coming back?
She wet her lips and rubbed her temple. For sanity’s sake she ought to refuse, but the doubts in his eyes made her want to pull him close. A remnant of common sense intervened. “What about your family? Can’t they help out?”
“My brothers think it’s hilarious to watch me fumble around, because they claim they did the same thing. You’d never know it now. They’re pros. My sisters-in-law are better, but all three of them are pregnant and battling morning sickness in addition to juggling their own kids and careers.”
“All three are pregnant?”
He shrugged. “It’s a planned thing. They’re trying to have the babies close together.”
Josh smiled and blew spit bubbles, thoroughly enjoying his freedom on the floor. Cort knelt and gently, tentatively, smoothed his big hand over the baby’s soft, dark hair. “It’s just me and the little guy. Poor kid. If anybody can teach me, Trace, it’s you.”
Her heart melted.
Josh stiffened and whimpered.
Cort muttered under his breath and straightened. He reached in his coat pocket and extracted a slip of paper. “I had an interview at the clinic this morning. This is what Doc Finney is offering to pay me. I’ve made a list of my other expenses, but I don’t know what you charge to nanny or for rent. Can we afford you?”
Tension squeezed her rib cage and her heart pounded in the confined space. Sharing her home with Cort would be opening herself to heartache all over again.
But how could she refuse? She gazed at his son. The child had just lost his mother. Could she contribute to him losing his father, as well? Her conscience would haunt her forever.
With his clean diaper firmly in place, Josh rolled over onto his belly and crawled across the floor. Tracy let him go. Her nieces and nephews visited often enough that she kept the house childproofed, and baby drool wouldn’t show on her floral-patterned sofa.
Her hand trembled when she took the paper from Cort. Even after a decade his handwriting still looked familiar, and a lump formed in her throat. She studied the numbers and came to the conclusion that she’d have to manage on less money this summer, because she couldn’t turn Cort and Josh away. Somebody had to teach Cort how to be a father before he made a mistake that she was sure he’d live to regret.
“Yes, you can afford me.”
“Good. When can we move in?”
“Put away your money. I can pay my own deposit and first month’s rent,” Cort growled at his brother Sunday afternoon in Tracy’s upstairs apartment. His ears burned with humiliation.
“You have a kid to take care of, and now you’re paying rent on two apartments. Let me help.” Patrick had lowered his voice, but Cort was certain that Tracy, standing only a couple of yards away with Josh on her hip, could hear.
He peeled his gaze off the length of leg exposed by her shorts and glared at Patrick. “Dammit, I’m not one of your charities. I have three roommates sharing my other apartment, so you don’t have to worry about my check bouncing and me moving back home.”
“You didn’t have to leave in the first place.”
“Like hell, I—”
“Gentlemen,” Tracy scolded in her teacher voice, and Cort jerked to attention. “Josh is getting sleepy. Could we save the bickering until after the crib is assembled?”
His pride took a kick in the kneecaps.
Patrick shrugged. “Sorry, Tracy, you know how it is to be the older sibling.”
“Yes, I do, but perhaps you should remember that Cort is now twenty-eight, not eight. If he needs something from you I’m sure he’s mature enough to ask for it.” The understanding in her gaze washed over him before she glanced toward the numerous boxes stacked in the den and kitchenette.
She stepped closer and touched his shoulder. His skin ignited, and her cinnamon scent filled his senses when he inhaled. “Cort, could you find clean pajamas for Josh? I’ll give him his bath while you two finish up.”
“Sure.” He searched a box until he found a pale-green one-piece thing. Tracy took it, and their fingers brushed. Damn, he needed sleep more than he thought if one touch could stimulate his heart into arrhythmia.
“Thanks,” she said as she passed. He thought she sounded a little winded. Probably from bouncing Josh on her hip. For such a little guy, the kid was heavy.
His gaze slid from her white T-shirt over her departing rear and then down her legs. He didn’t remember Tracy’s legs—or any part of her for that matter—looking that good. He glanced up and caught his brother smirking at him.
Patrick turned for the door leading to the outside stairs and called over his shoulder, “I need to get the toolbox from the truck.”
Cooing and splashing pulled Cort away from unpacking and led him to the bathroom. Tracy had Josh in the tub. The little tyke obviously liked Tracy bathing him. He didn’t enjoy it half as much when Cort washed him. Smart kid. Tracy wasn’t likely to let his slippery body squirm right out of her grip. He, on the other hand, thought the kid ought to come with handles and instructions.
“He loves the water,” Tracy said without turning away from her charge. Josh splashed her and she squealed. After one startled moment, Josh chortled and slapped both hands into the water sending droplets everywhere.
The ache in Cort’s heart intensified. He hadn’t been able to coax a smile from his son, let alone make him laugh out loud.
Josh deserved better.
He grabbed a hand towel from the rack and stepped into the room to blot the moisture from Tracy’s face. “I’d like it, too, if I had a pretty lady scrubbing my back.”
A flush stained her pale neck and cheeks. “Aren’t you supposed to be assembling the crib?”
“Patrick’s getting the tools from the truck. I thought I might learn something in Bath 101.” He lowered the toilet lid. It wasn’t until after he sat down that he realized the room wasn’t big enough for two—three if you counted the squirt. His knees bracketed Tracy, and his mind took an X-rated detour. Unless he wanted to embarrass himself, now was not the time to fantasize about Tracy on her knees in front of him.
He blew out a slow breath and focused on her hair. She’d tortured it into that tight twist again, and it looked like only one pin held it in place. The urge to pull the pin and see the strands tumble over her shoulders nearly overwhelmed him. He twisted the towel in his hands.