Her Baby Dreams (11 page)

“D
on't throw anything. I come in peace,” Dan said the minute the door swung open. He almost dropped the picnic basket when he saw Ashby standing there.

Sure, he'd seen her dressed casually, but there was always a perfection to her that held people at bay. Not so in this outfit…. He let out a soft whistle, staring at her casual girl-next-door clothes and her bare feet.

This was much better than finding her with that green stuff caked on her face.

“You really know how to take a man's breath away,” he said, meeting her astounding green eyes.

“You'll say anything to make up for rude behavior,” she retorted, but her tone wasn't belligerent, which gave him hope.

“That's true. But the truth is you look amazing.”

Her gaze wavered and she looked almost vulnerable when she lifted her chin in that cute way she had. “In these old things…”

His insides tumbled at the uncertainty he heard in those words. Pretty as she always looked, she never seemed to believe him when he complimented her. That was part of the attraction.

But what was it about this woman that kept him coming back? It was more than that she looked amazing, he knew. Clint had told him earlier that he'd had a few of the cowboys asking if Dan and Ashby were an item. Clint hadn't known exactly what to reply, so he had said nothing. But clearly the guys were thinking about making a move for Ashby's affections.

One part of Dan wanted to say it was about time they stopped being stupid. It was the other part that wanted to tell them to stay away from her, that she was his. That they were an item.

Problem was, she thought he was an obnoxious flirt. The perception had never bothered him before, because he understood who he was. But he wanted Ashby to see him as more. He wanted—no, he needed her to see him. The real him. But he needed her to look deeper.

“Aren't you going to ask me why I'm here?”

“Why
are
you here?”

He lifted the basket. “I'm trying a new tactic. I came home from church inspired to prepare this in the hopes that if you saw all the hard work and effort I went to, you wouldn't be able to turn me down.”

“Turn you down?”

“That's right. I was hoping that once you saw how I slaved over this picnic lunch, you would feel compelled to forgive me for all my bad behavior and say yes when I asked you to go on a picnic with me.”

Her gaze darted to the basket and back to him. He wiggled it for extra incentive.

She dropped her chin and leveled serious eyes at him. “What's in the hamper?”

He held it behind him. “Not telling. You only learn what's in here if you come with me.”

He saw interest spark like fireflies in her emerald gaze, and could sense he had an opening. “Please don't say no.” Sincerity rang in his words and he hoped she heard it. “I promise not to say anything about your alphabetized canned goods.” So much for the sincerity. He hadn't meant to mention that.

Her lips twitched. “I was wondering when you were going to get around to that.”

“Hey, I line my socks up in my drawers according to colors.”

She chuckled. “What—white, white and more white?”

He grinned. “How did you know?”

“Good guess,” she said, and he saw the tension ease out of her. “Let me get my shoes.”

“Get your shoes—” he began to say, his brow creasing.

“Yes, so I can come with you.”

He watched her walk down the hall, then looked up at the ceiling and mouthed a thank-you to the good Lord. He finally had a date with Ashby Templeton.
Yee-haw!

 

Ashby wasn't sure what she was doing. She didn't even ask where he wanted to picnic as they climbed into his truck. He was once more the perfect gentleman, like he'd been the night he'd given her a ride after the pig scramble. He held the door for her, took her elbow as she climbed into the seat. It was a really nice feeling, and one she tried to keep in perspective. But she had to be fair, and if she was making comparisons between Dan and Steven, well, she must acknowledge that Steven had rarely held a chair for her or opened her car door for her, and on the occasions that he did, it felt like it was done as an afterthought. Not so with Dan. He made her feel special each time he gently cupped her elbow with one hand and swept the door open for her with the other. The man got points for that.

“You aren't going to ask where I'm taking you?” he asked when they were on the road.

“I thought I'd let you keep me in suspense.”

He chuckled and a thrill of electricity raced through her. Ashby inhaled at the shock and tried to tell herself she wasn't a fool.

“I like you, Ash. You're one cool cucumber.”

“I'm not so certain a girl wants to be called a cool cucumber. Especially from a guy who insists she needs to loosen up.”

Dan's eyes were serious when they met hers. “Sorry about that. I was way out of line.”

“No big deal. I know it better than anyone.”

“I don't think so. I've been known to be wrong.” He glanced again at her. “Honestly.”

“Say it isn't so,” she gasped, slapping a hand over her heart the way she'd seen him do so many times.

He grinned. “Look, I still don't know what happened the day of that bike race.” The expression on his face made it clear he wondered whether the disgruntled woman he'd met that day could reemerge. “But I'm thinking we have both misjudged each other in a lot of ways.”

“You might be right,” she said, her voice soft.

He held out a hand toward her. “Hi, I'm Dan Dawson, and I'd like to start over.”

He wanted things to change between them. And if he had his way, things were changing starting today.

She didn't immediately take his hand, and he was forced to glance back at the road. But he stubbornly kept his hand extended, fingers stretching toward her. When she firmly slipped her slender hand into his he had the sudden urge to slam on the brakes so he could jump out and run a few victory laps around the truck.

Instead he squeezed her hand and smiled. “You have just made my day.”

“Somehow I can't bring myself to believe that. Though we may have misjudged each other a little.”

“A little?” he teased. “You think all I do is flirt, and I—” He stopped abruptly, thinking maybe he'd better not go there.

She laughed again. “You do flirt a lot.” She removed her hand when he looked at her with a frown. “And you kissed me out of the blue. I still don't get that.”

He looked at her lips.
He
got it. And now he was about to shoot himself in the foot, so he hoped honesty would pay off. “What can I say? You just looked so kissable.”

She rolled her eyes. “Does that line actually work for you?”

Her question dug deep. “It wasn't a line.” It had been the absolute truth. She looked at him with eyes that said she wasn't sure if she trusted his words. “Ashby, contrary to what you think, I don't normally kiss women out of the blue, as you put it.” His driveway came into view and he focused on his place instead of the bale of hay that was suddenly lodged in his throat.

Someone had delivered the dozer since he'd left yesterday. It sat waiting for the crew to continue working tomorrow.

“So they level it tomorrow,” Ashby said, all humor gone as she effectively changed the subject.

“Looks that way. I'll be glad when they finish. I'm thinking positively about it, but the ruins aren't the most pleasant thing to see every day.” He hadn't said that to anyone.

“You really have a great outlook on the whole situation. You inspired me…and surprised me.”

Ashby's soft words startled him and bolstered him at the same time. Maybe she didn't think he was a complete loss. “Thank you,” he said, meeting her smile with one of his own.

“I just thought since we were turning over a new leaf, so to speak, that I should be honest with you.”

As he drove on past the house, following the gravel road that weaved through his pastures, Dan suddenly felt much better. He and Ashby were turning over a new leaf—sounded good to him. Real good.

“So you think there is some hope for the incorrigible Mr. Dawson?”

She laughed. “Maybe. But don't get a big head.”

“Who, me? Never.” He pulled the truck to a stop beneath a giant oak. “Besides, I know the only reason you're being so nice to me is because you think I have the other half of that cheesecake in the basket.”

“And you would be absolutely right.”

An irresistible pull of attraction connected them as their eyes met and held.

Ashby's defenses were crumbling around her when it came to Dan and she knew it.

“Where are we?” she asked, tearing her attention away.

“That is a surprise,” he said.

Ashby didn't look at him, but could hear the smile in his voice, and even that did weird things to her insides. She hopped out of the truck before he made it around to open her door for her. Her mother's frown would have been huge—which made Ashby smile.

“Can I get in on the secret?” Dan said, taking the picnic basket from the back seat.

Embarrassment scorched her cheeks and she kicked a stone, feeling foolish. And slightly mean. “I'm ashamed to say it was me behaving badly.”

“Now, I thought we were over that?”

She laughed. “My mother's voice follows me around sometimes. She would really hate that I got out of the truck without allowing you to open the door for me.”

“Ahh, and my mother would have had my ear for not moving faster to get it open.”

Ashby bit her lip to hold back a goofy grin. “Mothers.”

Now it was his turn to laugh. “Gotta love 'em. This way.” He started walking ahead of her. “Watch your step.”

She followed him along a rocky path that wound past a large prickly pear cactus covered with huge yellow blooms. It was beautiful in its unique way. “So where are we going?” she asked, looking down, watching her footing.

“Here, just over this hill.” He took her arm and helped her step around a large rock. His hand remained under her elbow as they topped the ridge, and she welcomed the protectiveness. And the feel of it, too.

“Oh!” She gasped at the field of sunflowers spread out before her. They were amazing, their large faces lifted to the sun. “What a happy place,” she said, unable to take her eyes off the sea of yellow backed by the clear blue sky.

“Exactly what I hoped you would think,” Dan said softly.

“Did you plant these?”

“Nope. Just happened upon them one day when I was riding.”

Ashby needed to pinch herself. She really did. How in the world had she ended up on a sunny Sunday afternoon, standing in a sunflower patch with a drop-dead-gorgeous cowboy?

“You're doing that smile thing again, where your eyes seem filled with secrets of their own. Tell me you're not thinking of your mother again. I gotta admit it doesn't do a cowboy's ego any favors when his date keeps thinking of her mother.” Dan pushed his hat back and gave her his Harry Connick Jr. smile.

“No, I'm not thinking of my mother. Anybody ever tell you that you look like Harry Connick Jr.?”

He handed her the basket, then pulled the blanket from his shoulder. “I was really hoping you'd love me for me. Not that I have anything against the guy. But I am better-looking. I was thinking more like that other guy, you know—
People Magazine'
s sexiest man alive.”

Ashby laughed. “Oh, please, don't let me hurt your ego.”

“You're not.” He winked at her, then spread the blanket on the ground. They sat down with the basket between them.

“While I pull out this mighty fine feast that I've prepared for you, tell me about yourself. Consider it the tax.”

Ashby folded her hands in her lap and watched him peek inside the basket with a mischievous glint in his eyes. “I know you came here from somewhere in California,” he continued. “This town is growing with a ton of people from out there. What's up with that?”

It was true. “Isn't that the oddest thing? I'd say it has to do with the original ad campaign that the local ladies started when they advertised for wives. I think they targeted the West Coast and a few Southern states. Dottie and the ladies from the shelter didn't come here because of the ad, though.”

“Nope, God led them here. Don't you think?”

Ashby studied Dan. For a man, he seemed so sure about that. Not that a guy couldn't sound sincere about the mysteries of the way God worked, but Dan accepted it with such ease. “Yes, I do believe He did. I believe we each eventually end up where God wants us, but that He can use us wherever we are.”