Nearest Thing to Heaven (Maverick Junction) (11 page)

“And you live in Chicago.” He tugged on a pair of gloves and ran a gentle hand over the animal’s injured leg.

“Right.”

As the two of them leaned over the cat, talking, their heads touching, the door opened and Ty stepped in.

He stopped dead when he saw them. “Sorry. I took a chance Doc might be here. I had a question about one of my fillies. Didn’t realize I’d be interrupting anything.” His voice took on a hard edge.

“You’re not,” Brawley growled.

Two alpha dogs and one bone, Sophie thought. And she was the bone.

Ty turned, hand on the doorknob. “I’ll come back tomorrow.” He stormed out, Brawley right behind him.

The door stood open.

“What the hell’s wrong with you?” Brawley asked.

“Nothing.”

“Bullshit. I know you too well to buy that crap!”

The two friends stood nose to nose, and Sophie held her breath.

Ty waved his hand toward the clinic. “I didn’t realize you and Sophie—”

“Me and Sophie nothing,” Brawley barked back. “She found a ratty-assed cat hiding under a bush. The thing was half-dead, so she dragged it in for Doc to look at. Since I was here, I’m checking it out. Period.”

Ty swiped a boot over the grout line between two of the tiles and swore. “I feel like an idiot.”

“You
are
an idiot.” Brawley draped an arm over his friend. “Doc’s around back. Go ask your question.”

Sophie breathed a sigh of relief.

As Ty started around the building, Brawley said, “You might consider asking the girl out.”

“Kiss my butt.” Ty walked away.

Brawley laughed as he moved toward Sophie and Lilybelle. “Sorry about that.”

“Ty’s a moody one,” she said. “I never know what to expect from him.”

“Seems to be even moodier since you’ve landed in town.”

“You think?” She gave the cat one last pat. “You’ll call me when I can pick her up?”

“Either Doc or I will. Don’t worry. We’ll take good care of her.”

“I’ll need to ask Dottie if I can keep the cat. I don’t know if she wants animals in her apartment.”

“She’ll be fine with it.”

Twilight had fallen by the time Sophie left the clinic. Halfway out the door, she stopped dead. Ty leaned against the front of his van, long legs crossed, Stetson tipped back.

“Did you find Doc?”

“Yep. Where’s your cat?”

“Brawley’s fixing her up for me. I can take her home tomorrow.”

“Good.” He turned to go, then stopped. Facing her, he hooked a thumb in his pocket. “I owe you an apology.”

“No, you don’t.”

“I do. I was a jerk in there.”

She wasn’t sure what to say.
Yes, you were
? or
Why was
that
? So she said nothing at all.

“Not gonna help me out?”

“What would you like me to say?”

“Oh, something along the lines of, ‘No, you weren’t, Ty.’ Or maybe just ‘It’s okay.’”

She smiled. “It’s okay, Ty.”

“But you don’t mean that.”

Exasperated, she blurted, “Then why did you want me to say it?”

“So I’d feel better.” He kicked at a loose pebble. “Look, you can tell me it’s none of my business, but I have to ask. Is there anything going on between you and Brawley?”

“No.”

“You sure?”

“Positive.”

“Want to go for a ride? I realize the van falls more than a little short of my Cowboy Cadillac, but…” He shrugged. “The boys are at their gram’s. I’m a free man for another hour or so.”

“Cowboy Cadillac?”

“Yeah. My pickup.”

“Oh.” She hesitated. “You know, yes, I’d like to go for a ride.” The air had a definite nip to it, so Sophie reached into her car for her faded Cubs sweatshirt and tugged it over her T-shirt.

“Hey, Tink.” His voice sounded husky.

“Ty?”

He pointed at her shirt. “You know, you might want to put that away, not wear it while you’re here.”

“Really? And why would that be?”

“We’re not big Cub fans down here, sugar.”

“What a shame. I feel so sorry for you.”

He chuckled. “Yeah, well, consider yourself warned.”

Ty pulled onto the street, then reached for the radio and turned the volume up a notch. “You warm enough?”

She nodded, bit her tongue before admitting her temperature had risen a good ten degrees the minute she’d slid into his van. He seemed to have that effect on her.

“You been looking for a cat?”

“No. Absolutely not. But she’s not a good candidate for adoption, and I can’t bear to think of—you know.”

He nodded. “I do. The kids have a puppy—because I couldn’t say no to Babs—and I’m seriously thinking of committing myself. Our house is crazy enough without those sharp little teeth chewing up everything in sight, puppy puddles on the floor, and one more mouth to feed.”

“But the kids love him,” she said.

“Yeah, they do.” He adjusted his hat, settled it farther back on his head, giving her a better view of those startling gray eyes.

“And, so, Dad, you’ll put up with the inconvenience.”

“You got that right.”

He drove along Maverick Junction’s few side streets, pointing out the school, the small volunteer fire station, a few friends’ homes. Lights came on in houses as dusk deepened, everyone winding down from the weekend, preparing for Monday morning.

It was peaceful and so different from Chicago.

Sophie rolled down her window and stuck her head out. “I can’t get over the sky here. It’s incredible. It goes on forever and ever.”

She pulled her head back in and turned to face him. “Do you ever get tired of this?”

“The town?”

“All of it. The small town, the quiet. The isolation.”

“Nope. I’ve lived here all my life. It’s home. I’m happy here.” He glanced at her. “What about you? You happy in Chicago?”

“I am. It’s where I belong.”

An uneasy silence settled between them. No matter how she cut it, no matter how attractive she found Ty Rawlins, the chasm between their worlds was too wide, too gaping to ever be bridged.

And wasn’t that a darn shame?

Ty swung back onto Main Street and pulled up beside her car. The clinic was dark. Sophie swore a danger warning signal blasted in her head.

Without looking at Ty, she opened her door. “Thanks for the tour.”

“Hey.” He reached across the seat and caught her hand. “You okay?”

Electricity buzzed through her, and she had to force herself not to jerk her hand away. “I am.”

“We’re good then?”

She beamed at him. “We’re good.”

Ty waited till Sophie started her car and drove away, watched as she turned and disappeared from view. Guilt threatened to eat a hole clear through his stomach.

Checking his rearview mirror, he backed onto the street. Time to pick up the boys. He headed toward his parents’, his mind a quagmire.

He and Julia had met in first grade. By the time they’d hit third, he knew she’d be his wife. It had been just that simple. And that certain.

Julia and Ty. Ty and Julia.

They’d been paired forever.

Should have been together forever.

Would have been if she’d— He sucked in a lungful of air and let it out slowly. Again and again.

Still, his heart refused to settle into its normal rhythm. Sophie stirred something in him that had been missing for a long, long time.

Something he’d never felt, actually, because with him and Julia, there’d never been that uncertainty. But there’d also never been that thrill of the unknown. Of the new.

He and Julia grew up knowing each other, knowing everything about each other.

With Sophie he was out of his comfort zone. He snorted. Comfort zone? How about universe?

He’d never even dated anybody except Julia. Never kissed another woman—until Sophie. Damn, his heart raced faster than the van’s engine.

What was he going to do?

Reaching above the visor, he pulled out an old, worn CD. Julia’s favorite. But when he slid it in and hit play, instead of bringing her closer as it usually did, it confused him even more.

T
y groaned. What the heck? Groggy, he rolled onto his side and pulled a plastic action figure out from under his back. Apparently, he’d fallen asleep on the sofa.

The laundry he’d been folding had spilled onto the floor. The TV, volume low, cast flickering shadows around the room. Coming to a full sitting position, he flopped against the sofa’s back.
Sleepless in Seattle.
He shook his head. That movie must be making somebody a boatload of money. Every time he turned on the TV, it was playing, and every time he switched channels. The film romanticized widowhood when it was, in reality, nothing but pain and heartache. And a lot of damn hard work.

Still, tonight, he’d found himself watching it as he folded the small T-shirts and searched out mates for tiny socks—socks he noticed needed replacing soon. Tom Hanks and Meg Ryan drew him into the possibility of a second chance at love and happiness.

Was it possible? On screen, with Annie’s help, Sam discovered new love. His son found a new mother. But, then, that was the movies.

An image of Sophie floated through his mind. Their short, impromptu ride had been over a week ago and had left him restless. He’d driven past Dottie’s more than once, sorely tempted to stop each time, but he’d forced himself to keep going.

By now, Sophie had no doubt headed back to Chicago and her life. His was here with his kids—three mini-tornadoes who’d be up early. Time he got some sleep himself. Upstairs.

Digging the remote from beneath the cushions where Josh liked to hide it, he flicked off the television set. He’d do one last check on the boys, then collapse into bed.

Alone.

Again.

Ty’s door flew open on a screeching war whoop and all three boys made a flying leap onto his bed. He grunted, then groaned when one sharp elbow landed in his midsection.

“We’re hungry, Daddy.”

He opened one eye and saw the sun—along with his sons—had risen. And so it begins. Another day in the life of the Rawlins family, he thought.

Jesse lifted Ty’s arm and crawled beneath it, snuggling close. “Miss Marcy said it’s De—” He scrunched his nose in thought.

“Dexcember,” Jonah helped.

“No,” Josh said. “It’s Chrisember.”

Ty laughed. “It’s December.” Then he sobered. Where had the year gone?

“Yeah,” Jesse said. “It’s time for Santa to come.”

Ty rubbed his eyes with his free hand. “In a few weeks.”

“Not tonight?” Josh asked from where he sprawled across Ty’s legs.

“No. Definitely not tonight.”

“But I want him to come tonight.” Josh’s lower lip trembled.

“He can’t come tonight,” Jonah explained patiently. “He’s gotta make the toys first. Right, Daddy?” Jonah, flopped on his stomach, hung head-first over the side of the bed.

“Right, tiger.” He rubbed the closest head. “Why don’t you guys run on downstairs. I’ll be right behind you.”

As they tumbled off the bed, he added, “Open the back door and let Trouble out before he makes any puddles.”

“He already did, Daddy. In our bathroom.”

And they were gone. Ty wondered if anybody else’s life could possibly be this chaotic. He hit the head, then tossed on a pair of jeans and a flannel shirt. After a quick stop in the boys’ bathroom with some paper towels to clean up after the pup, he traipsed downstairs.

The dog was outside, but so were the boys.

“Hey, guys, get in here. You don’t have any shoes on—or jackets. Come in and close the door. You born in a barn?”

“I don’t know,” Josh said.

“You weren’t. Take my word for it.” He grabbed bowls straight out of the dishwasher since he hadn’t unloaded it last night.

Forty-five minutes later, cereal dishes once again stacked in the machine, kids dressed, puppy fed and redrained, he herded the whole bunch out the door. Buckling the kids into child seats, he thought maybe he’d run by Dottie’s again.

If Sophie was still there he might ask her out. But not on a date. He broke into a sweat. Just some kind of friendly outing. After all, with Annie on her honeymoon, Sophie really didn’t know anybody in town. She might be lonesome.

It would be the right thing to do.

The more he thought about it, though, it might actually be safer to do something that included the boys. That was probably a rotten thing to do to her, but, as cowardly as it made him, he needed the buffer.

He wouldn’t really be playing fair with Sophie, and he’d be using the triplets. He thought about the alternative. He and Sophie alone. His pulse took off at a gallop.

Using them worked. He could live with that.

He unloaded the kids at day care, then went inside to sign the permission slip he’d forgotten at home on the kitchen counter. The class was walking to the library today for story time.

On impulse, he stopped into Sally’s Place. “Morning, Sally. How ’bout a plain coffee to go and one of those fancy cappuccinos.”

“That cappuccino wouldn’t be for a certain young lady from Chicago, would it?” Sally raised her brows.

“Might be. Why?”

“She drinks coffee once in a while, but she really prefers tea.”

“I knew that.”

“I know you did.” She grinned and cracked her gum. “Your brain’s on overload this morning, right?”

He threw her a lopsided smile. “Actually, it is.”

“You’re wondering how you’re gonna finagle her into a date without making it an actual date.”

His mouth dropped open. “How the hell did you—” He stopped. “Oh, no. I’m not playing this game.”

“You already did.”

He jammed his hands into his jeans pockets. “So give me a coffee and a tea, bag out.” He jerked his chin toward the pastry counter. “And a piece of your apple pie.”

“One?”

“Yeah. If Sophie’s nice, I’ll share with her.”

“Oh, you’re a bad one.” With a shake of her head, Sally moved off to get the order together.

While he waited, Ty sat on one of the stools and chewed the fat with Old Henry Foster and Walt Johnson, there for their daily gabfest. Inside a couple minutes, Sally placed his bag in front of him. “Here you go. Good luck.”

He flashed a grin, showing off his dimples. “Think I’m gonna need luck with a mug like this?”

“Maybe I’d better wish
her
luck.”

“From your lips to God’s ears.” Ty dropped a ten on the counter, grabbed his order, and left, wishing he felt even half as confident as he’d pretended.

He found her at the kitchen table, hunched over her computer. When he rapped on the window, she jerked around.

Recognizing him, hand on her heart, she walked to the door and opened it. “Well, I think I just lost ten years or so.”

“Working?”

She clapped her hands, her eyes sparkling. “I am. It’s going so well.” She tipped her head at the cup. “For me?”

“Yep.”

“Thanks.” She took the offered tea, then peered in his bag. “What’s that?”

“Apple pie. Thought you might want to share.”

“You bet. I’m more than ready for a break. Got started early this morning.” She rubbed her lower back, then opened a cupboard door for saucers.

Ty shook his head. “Grab a couple forks. More fun to eat it right out of this.” He held up the Styrofoam container.

“Okay.”

Together, they attacked the pie.

“Mmm,” she said around a mouthful of the sweet fruit. “This is incredible.”

“Yeah, it is. One bite left.” He scooped it onto his fork and held it toward her. Watched as her mouth closed over it. Held his breath as she closed her eyes to savor it.

He chuckled. “Hope that was as good for you as it was for me.”

“Oh, believe me, it was.” She licked her lips.

She played dirty, he thought. That look on her face could drive a man insane—and she had to know it. Was that why Nathan sent e-mails like the one he’d seen? Why he couldn’t give her up?

“So now that we’ve devoured a day’s worth of calories,” Sophie said, “why’d you come by?”

“Other than to feed you?”

“Other than that.” She smiled.

“Do I need a reason?”

She tipped her head and studied him. “Strangely enough, I’m going to say yes. You don’t strike me as a spur-of-the-moment kind of guy.”

He narrowed his eyes. “I’m not sure if that’s a compliment or an insult.”

“Neither,” she said. “Simply an observation.”

“Okay. As much as it pains me to admit it, you’re right. Here’s the deal. It occurs to me you never did let me pay for the outfit Jonah ruined at Cash’s Fourth of July barbecue. Thought maybe I could at least treat you to lunch.”

She eyed the now empty container.

He laughed. “No. As good as the pie was, it’s not a meal.”

“It should be.” She rubbed her stomach, drawing his eyes to her midsection, her narrow waist, the way the Cubs T-shirt stopped just short of the top of her jeans.

His pulse rate doubled. The woman was downright dangerous to his health.

“I’m not sure it’s a good idea for you and me to—you know.”

He swallowed and went with instinct. “We wouldn’t be alone. Sometimes I spring the kids. Give them a day away from day care. Thought I’d do that tomorrow. We’ve been talking about throwing together a picnic.”

Shrugging, he said, “But it’s okay. I should have realized a day with three little boys wouldn’t be your idea of a good time. Forget I even mentioned it.”

“No. Wait.” She laid a hand on his arm.

His eyes lifted to hers, searching them. Did she feel that kick in the ass when they touched, or was it just him?

“I’d love to join you and the boys.” She paused. “Why don’t I meet you out at your place? That’ll be easier than you coming into town to pick me up.”

“Sounds good. Elevenish?”

“I’ll be there.”

He gave her quick directions. “And Tink?”

“Yes?”

“You might want to lose that T-shirt right along with the sweatshirt. You’ve got piss-poor taste in baseball teams.”

Her mouth dropped open. “You do understand I bought my apartment in Chicago’s Lakeview district based solely on the fact it’s only a couple of blocks from Wrigley Field?”

Slowly he shook his head. “It just gets worse.”

She punched him in the arm. “You’ve got a lot of room to talk. You live surrounded by horses and cows.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He smiled. “I do. But remember, I did warn you. The shirt’s got to go.”

He tipped his hat and left, taking the stairs at a fast clip. Tomorrow Sophie’d spend the day with him. Backing out of the drive, he made a mental list of the things he’d need from Sadler’s Store.

He was as nervous—and as horny—as a sixteen-year-old. The horny would have to go on the back burner for now. With the triplets around, well, not a chance in Hell he’d get lucky.

Instantly his conscience pricked him.

His gaze drifted to his left hand, the fingers draped over the steering wheel. No wedding ring. In a fit of anger, he’d taken it off over a year ago. Julia should still be here with him. Would be if—

Nope. He drew a deep breath. Best leave those thoughts for the middle of the night when sleep refused to come. No place for them today.

He signaled and pulled into Sadler’s parking lot. Turning off the van, he unbuckled his seat belt, then leaned back.

His stomach hurt. Things were changing. Lately, it wasn’t Julia on his mind when he couldn’t sleep. It was Sophie. Damn it. He scrubbed a hand over his face.

It should have been over and done with. He’d been sure she’d have gone back to Chicago by now. When he’d turned into Dottie’s drive and seen the Chevy that everybody and his brother on Cash’s ranch used, a rush of emotions had flooded him.

If he was honest with himself, though, the foremost had been sheer happiness. Happiness he’d see her again. That he could share his dessert. That he could talk to her again, see her smile, hear her laugh.

What the hell was he supposed to do?