Cowboy Defender by Carla Cassidy

Author:Carla Cassidy
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2018-11-29T16:15:52+00:00

Chapter 8

They were all still cheering when they returned to the house. Henry’s team had won the game 5–3 and Henry had been responsible for two base hits and a spectacular catch that had ended the game in success.

They celebrated by eating the cupcakes Mandy had brought and then, before Clay knew it, it was bath and bedtime for the kids.

Sitting next to Miranda and Jenny on the bleachers and cheering for Henry, feeling like part of a unit instead of a single man, had felt so good. It was what he craved at this time in his life. He’d always wanted a real family to fill the spaces of loneliness and heartache that his mother’s absence had left behind.

They said familiarity bred contempt, but he’d been in close quarters with Miranda for days now and there wasn’t even a hint of contempt in his heart. The exact opposite was true.

She charmed him with her smiles. Her laughter made his heart feel lighter. Her love for her children awed him. And he had a wealth of desire for her.

He’d learned she wasn’t a morning person, that she liked her coffee with cream and no sugar. He also had discovered that when she got overtired she got a little crabby, but he simply considered that part of her charm. Yes, Miranda was definitely getting under his skin like no other woman had before.

Unfortunately, she seemed stuck in the friendship zone where he was concerned and had given him absolutely no indication that she wanted anything more from him.

He now went into the living room where she was seated on the sofa. On all the other evenings he’d been here she’d gone to sleep almost immediately after the kids were tucked in, but tonight she didn’t appear to be in a big hurry.

“Tired?” he asked.

“Actually, I think cheering for Henry gave me a second wind.” She patted the sofa next to her. “Why don’t you sit and entertain me for a little while.”

“Entertain you? Are you expecting me to juggle oranges or maybe dance on the coffee table?”

She smiled at him, the first real, warm smile he’d seen from her in days. Instantly an explosion of heat swept through him. “I was actually thinking maybe you could tell me some more funny stories about you and your friends at the ranch, but if you want to dance on the coffee table, I will be a rapt audience of one,” she said.

He sank down next to her on the sofa. “Do you like to dance?”

“I used to love it, but I haven’t danced in years,” she replied.

“Maybe when you’re back on your feet we can go dancing at the Watering Hole.” The vision of holding her close and moving to a ballad warmed him once again.

“Maybe,” she replied. “Now, entertain me with some stories.”

For the next half an hour he told her more about the antics of the young runaway men who had found their home at Cass’s ranch. A couple of his

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