The Cowboy's Christmas Baby by Paula Altenburg

Author:Paula Altenburg
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, Romance
ISBN: 9781958686539
Publisher: Tule Publishing Group, LLC
Published: 2024-12-05T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eight

Miles

Miles loved a good party and the Christmas kickoff at the Endeavour was shaping up to be especially jolly. Thanks went in large part to Dallas Tucker and Elizabeth O’Connell—Dallas for his enthusiasm, and Elizabeth, her good taste.

The Endeavour shopped local. Hannah’s taproom provided the beer, Ryan had chosen the wine, and Dan and Jazz came through with mulled cider and rum and eggnog. The Wayside Café had provided pastries and Lou’s Pub delivered surprisingly delicate appetizers.

Ryan and Elizabeth had made an executive decision that junior staff and the boys from the group home were to have a separate party because they couldn’t possibly police underage drinking. Tonight’s party was for vendors and senior staff, and if anyone chose to stay over, the bunkhouses had been opened up for the women and bedrolls provided in the barns for the men.

Miles had moved from his usual bunkhouse and into a small trailer for the night to make room for the guests. He’d been offered one of the many spare rooms in the ranch house because of Iris, but he’d declined. Overall, she was pretty content, but she was a normal baby, and when out of sorts, everyone within hearing range knew all about it. His bosses didn’t need to lose sleep.

She wore her new party dress and was cute as a bug in a rug, as his grandma always said about Sydney and Pax. He couldn’t wait to hear what she had to say about her newest great-grandchild. He was less eager to hear what the straightlaced old lady would have to say about him.

He kept a watchful eye on his daughter as the female guests passed her between them, and an impatient eye on the door, waiting for Tate. They’d danced around each other these past few days, pretending that kiss had meant nothing—and her telling him about her brother’s anniversary meant even less—and he wasn’t sure how long he could keep up his end of it. Tate, he suspected, could go on forever. She seemed big into denial.

She arrived a half hour late. When she took off her coat, she revealed a dress that exposed a great deal more of her than it hid.

Silence settled over the small group of men who’d gravitated around him to pick his brain about his days on the circuit, wanting his opinions on the upcoming season. His jaw slackened, although he managed to keep his mouth closed. Barely.

“Is that Tate Shannahan?” someone asked, breaking the spell. He sounded so insultingly incredulous that Miles fought off an urge to punch him for it. Tate was beautiful no matter what she had on.

Tonight, she surpassed beauty. Blond hair spilled over bare shoulders in long, loose, spiral curls. Athletic, not slim, she filled that tight dress in a way that dried out his tongue and made the rest of him sweat. That dress was a message and he hoped it was intended for him. They had the matter of that kiss to resolve.

“Well, well, well. If it isn’t Santa’s little helper,” someone said.

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