The Bachelor's Brighton Valley Bride (Return to Brighton Valley) by Judy Duarte - The Bachelor's Brighton Valley Bride (Return to Brighton Valley)

Author:Judy Duarte - The Bachelor's Brighton Valley Bride (Return to Brighton Valley) [Duarte, Judy]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: AcM
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2014-07-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eight

Later that evening, Clay looked around the dining room at the quaint farmhouse, with its floral wallpaper, dark oak hutch, and matching table and chairs. He wondered if Megan knew what some of this rustic old furniture would be worth to those hotshot interior designers who were paid a small fortune to make some rich person’s second and third homes look exactly like her little family homestead.

In fact, if he hadn’t gotten to know her better or didn’t understand her shaky financial situation, he’d think that she’d paid a professional to make her house look like a spread in Southern Living magazine. But every room in the Adams house was the real deal.

Just as Megan was.

He looked over the enormous platter of pot roast with fingerling potatoes and baby carrots caramelized in the meat juices. She never ceased to amaze him with her talent. And while he’d thought she was beautiful when she worked at Zorba’s, here on the farm and in her cozy home, wearing a pair of tight faded jeans and a pink tank top, she was even more so.

Rachael Ray would probably give away her entire line of fancy cookware to look as sexy as Megan did right this second. And to be seated at her table, eating her homemade meal.

Did the kids realize how lucky they were?

Tyler was wolfing down the fresh yeasty rolls, while his sister, Lisa, snuck chunks of the savory beef to Pancho, who hid underneath the table.

“Can I get you some more cabernet?” Megan asked Clay.

“Sure. Thank you.” He’d never had a woman cook for him before. He’d always been the one to wine and dine them, especially if he’d wanted to impress them. But Megan, who’d pulled her pretty red hair haphazardly into a ponytail high on her head, her face flushed from the heat of the kitchen, wasn’t trying to impress anyone.

Still, she’d snagged Clay’s interest in a way no other woman ever had.

His gaze skimmed over her, landing upon a streak of flour that rested right where her snug tank top tapered into her slender waist. And each time she got up from the table to get something else, he couldn’t help but watch her move effortlessly about.

There wasn’t an ounce of pretense to her, and Clay wished he could be more honest about who he was.

She poured his wine, then added a bit to her own glass. “Can I get you anything else?”

“No, I’m great. Everything’s great.” And it really was. Not knowing what else to say, he took a sip of the cabernet. He didn’t want to gush over a meal that appeared to be an ordinary, everyday occurrence at her house, even though it seemed to be a highlight for him this evening.

In the background, the kitchen radio played an Eagles song about taking it easy, and he decided it certainly fit the mood tonight.

“Guess what,” Lisa said. “I scored two goals today, Mom. Coach Patricia says I’m her best kicker, and she wants me to try out for the traveling team when school starts.

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