The Texan's Baby (Texas Rodeo Barons)

CHRIS TRIED TO keep his mouth from dropping open. He’d never been to Roughneck but he’d heard it was grand. What he’d heard hadn’t done it justice. The house itself was constructed of stone, roof peaks jutting up from the manor-type design that spread across a gorgeous, green-carpeted front lawn. Several cars sat in a parking area to the left; beyond that were barns and outbuildings and fenced-in pastures where healthy-looking horses were grazing in the spring sunshine. “Holy shit,” he breathed, overwhelmed. “This is where you grew up?”

She nodded. “The house wasn’t always this big. When the oil strike happened, it changed everything.”

It certainly had. He wasn’t sure he’d been in anything this awesome in his life.

She parked next to a little car which she said was Julieta’s. “Are you sure you’re ready for this? My family can be a little intimidating.”

“We’ve met, remember?”

“Yes, but my dad was unconscious. That changes a lot.”

Great. Like he wasn’t already nervous enough. He knew what showing up to a family dinner meant. It meant she was still up to carrying on the facade that they were a couple. Putting the best image on this as she possibly could. Trouble was, he was starting to wish it were true.

Well, he’d play along. With pleasure. For now.

“I’ll be fine. I’m tougher than I look.”

She laughed a little. “I hope so.”

He carried his flowers loosely in his hand, following her up the path to the front door. She didn’t knock but walked right in, calling out “We’re here!” in a singsongy voice. He watched as she strode ahead of him, dressed in a pretty floral sundress and sandals that were far removed from both her work attire and the sexy black dress she’d worn on their dinner date. He thought he liked this look best of all. She looked cute. Approachable.

“About time you got here!” Savannah’s voice came from the kitchen and she barreled around the corner, grinning from ear to ear and capturing Lizzie in a hug. “Pecan pie. I hope you’re ready for it.” She stepped back and Lizzie wiped a smudge of flour off her dress.

“Chris, you made it! Good to see you,” Savannah greeted, and he got the feeling that he’d have at least one ally here tonight. He was going to need it. The gorgeous stone work of the house was amazing, and above his head broad beams crisscrossed the ceiling. He didn’t often feel out of his league, but he did now.

“Lizzie!” Julieta came through the French doors leading to the patio. “And Christopher. It’s good to see you again.”

“Good to see you, too, Mrs. Baron,” he replied, handing out the flowers.

“Oh, goodness. You can’t call me Mrs. Baron, it makes me feel old. Julieta is fine.” She peered into the brown paper and smiled. “And these are beautiful. I’ll put them in water and they’ll go on our table tonight.”

Julieta and Savannah both disappeared and Lizzie smiled at him. “Two down. Six to go.”

“Six?”

“Dad, Carly, the boys...and Anna, our housekeeper.”

Of course. A housekeeper. Why not? “Ah yes. The black-eyed-pea woman.”

She flashed him a smile and then led him through the French doors to the backyard, which was just as stunning as the interior. Cobbled stonework, glass-topped patio tables with umbrellas and comfortable chairs dotted the area around an outdoor kitchen featuring a grill the size of his motel-room bed. Fragrant smoke snuck out from beneath the grill cover while Jet reached for a set of tongs. Daniel and Jacob stood nearby, each with a beer in his hand while the patriarch of them all, Brock, sat in a wheelchair with a highball glass tipped to his mouth. Carly was nowhere to be found, and neither was Anna. A splash from his right told him that Alex was in the pool.

“Dad,” Lizzie called out, reaching back and squeezing Chris’s hand. She was nervous, he realized, and he squeezed back.

“Lizzie! About time you paid a visit. These phone calls and video things are way too impersonal. I’ve been meaning to talk to you about...”

“Not tonight, Daddy,” she chided, going over and kissing his cheek. “Let’s leave business for one night and just have some family time, okay?”

He frowned but nodded. “You’ve brought company.”

She pasted on a smile and Chris followed suit. “Chris Miller, sir,” he said, holding out his hand. “It’s good to meet you.”

Brock’s strength clearly hadn’t suffered from his trip to the hospital. His grip was firm and, Chris thought, i

ssued a silent warning as they shook hands. Chris met his gaze steadily.

That’s my daughter you’re fooling with.

I’m not the fooling type. Sir.