The Expectant Executive

From the minute he’d laid eyes on Fin, he’d been drawn to her like a bee to honey. And apparently, it had been the same for her with him. Her first visit to the ranch was proof of that. They hadn’t been able to keep their hands off of each other. But was great lovemaking enough of a base for a long-term relationship?

The way he saw it, they only had three things in common—Jessie, the baby Fin was carrying and an insatiable need for each other. Other than that, their lives were about as different as night and day.

He was country from his wide-brimmed Resistol hat to the soles of his Justin boots. His life was hard, grueling hours of work spent outside in all kinds of weather, and at night he slept with nothing to listen to but the crickets and an occasional coyote howling off in the distance. And he was much more comfortable in a honky-tonk where the music was loud, the beer was cheap and wearing a new pair of jeans and a clean shirt from the local Wal-Mart was considered dressed up than he’d ever be putting on a suit to go to a Broadway production or some trendy nightclub.

And as foreign as his life was to Fin, her life was just as foreign to him. She lived and worked in a city that never slept. Hell, how could it? With taxis honking and sirens blaring all the time, it was no wonder people were up around the clock. And that was just the tip of the iceberg.

Day in and day out, she worked in a climate-controlled office where the only time she felt the warmth of the sun on her face was when she stood close to the window, and every piece of clothing she owned had some famous designer’s name stitched into the label. Even the jeans she’d been wearing at the ranch had some guy’s name plastered across the back pocket.

When Fin stirred in her sleep, he tightened his arms around her and pressed a kiss to the top of her head. On her first visit to the Silver Moon, she’d mentioned that she loved the wide open space, but after a while the novelty would wear off and she’d go stir-crazy from missing the hustle and bustle of New York. He had no doubt, he’d be just as unhappy if he had to live in a crowded city.

As he felt sleep finally begin to overtake him, Travis closed his eyes and wondered how they were possibly going to share the raising of a child. Kids needed stability and permanence, not being bounced back and forth between two entirely different worlds.

As he drifted off with no more answers than he’d had before, his dreams were filled with images of sharing his life on the Silver Moon with a green-eyed, auburn-haired woman and child.

Chapter 8

“What do I do first?”

Smiling, Travis handed Fin the keys to the old truck he used for hauling hay.

“Put the key in the ignition and your right foot on the brake.”

“That’s simple enough,” she said, doing as he instructed. “What’s next?”

Fin’s pleased expression caused his chest to tighten. He couldn’t get over how excited she was at the prospect of learning to drive and he wouldn’t have missed teaching her for anything in the world.

“Turn the key toward the dashboard. When you hear it start, let go of the key.”

When the truck’s engine fired up, she beamed. “I can’t believe I’m actually going to do this.”

“I think that’s what you said last night when we—”

“You have a one-track mind, cowboy,” she interrupted, laughing.

Feeling younger than he had in years, he grinned. “It’s incredible, as well as amazing, wouldn’t you agree?”

“Your mind or last night?”

“Both.”

When she took her foot off the brake, the engine died. “What happened?”

He gave her a kiss that left them both needing resuscitation and when he finally raised his head, she gave him a look that was supposed to be stern, but only made her look more adorable. At least, to him.

“Back to business, cowboy. You’re supposed to be teaching me how to drive.”

“You have to keep your foot on the brake until you put it in gear or the engine will die.”

She frowned. “This is going to start getting complicated, isn’t it?”

“Not at all. Before you know it, it’ll be second nature to you.” He pointed to the ignition. “Put your foot back on the brake, start it up and take hold of the gearshift. Then, without taking your foot off the brake, pull the shift slightly forward and then down until the little indicator on the dash lights up the ‘D’.”

“Done,” she said, looking more confident as she followed his directions.

“You’re doing great. Now lightly step on the gas feed.” He’d no sooner gotten the words out than she stomped on the gas and the truck shot forward at what seemed like the speed of light.