Crockett's Seduction. Tina Leonard
read, window seat and fresh paint or not. “So once again, what do you want?”
She took a deep breath. “I was going to see what you thought about me having a special little ‘do’ here for Father’s Day.”
He stopped fiddling with the lump of clay. “Father’s Day? That was last month.”
“Yes. Well there are rather a lot of fathers around here. And we didn’t have a real celebration for them. Last, the sheriff, Barley, Calhoun—”
He scowled at his brother’s names. “You’re doing this for Last.”
“I would like to do something for him,” Valentine admitted. “I think he would enjoy being celebrated as a father. He has really been good to Annette.”
He guessed late was better than never. “Have you mentioned this party idea to Mason?”
“Not yet. I thought I’d speak to you first.”
“Why me? I’m not a father.” A fact he hated to admit, for some reason. Why wasn’t he a father? Because he hadn’t gone on a hootenanny and gotten someone pregnant as Last had, he supposed. But that route to fatherhood seemed unappealing when there were other ways.
Like with Valentine.
The thought swept over him before he could stop it. Valentine made beautiful babies; she made beautiful everything.
“I like to talk to you about whatever’s on my mind,” she said simply. “You’re reasonable.”
Reasonable was the last thing he was feeling. “I’m not a father,” he repeated, “but it sounds like something my brothers, at least, would enjoy. Can I come if I’m not a father?”
She looked at him. “Why do you keep saying that?”
“I don’t know. It could be bothering me.”
They stared at each other for a long time, and the silence felt awkward.
“Do you want to be a father?” Valentine asked softly.
Crockett eased back on his stool. “You seem happy being a parent.”
She smiled. “Yes, I love being a mother. But I am a parent of one. I’m not having any more children, so the burden doesn’t seem overly large.”
His brows rose, and an uncomfortable feeling lodged in his stomach. “You’re never having any more kids?”
She shrugged. “I’m a single mother. It’s rewarding, but enough of a struggle that I know I don’t plan on having more children.”
“I think Annette would like a little brother to drag around.”
“I think she has plenty of people wrapped in the crook of her finger.” She sat down across from him. “So about the party.”
“Yeah,” Crockett said reluctantly, realizing he wouldn’t enjoy watching his brother get kudos for being a dad. “Sounds like a real wingding.”
He scratched his head. His brain disliked the notion of Valentine not having more children. It didn’t sit right with him. Why? He drummed his fingers, then cracked his knuckles—and then it hit him.
He really wanted a child.
He rolled the very foreign thought around in his mind again. Prickles ran across his scalp. Valentine eyed him with a concerned gaze.
“Are you all right? You’ve gone quite pale.” She moved closer to examine him. She smelled fresh. “No, you’re definitely pale. Crockett, is something wrong?”
Well, hell, yeah. He wanted a baby. He wanted a baby, more specifically, with her, the last person on earth he should be thinking about.
Yeah, something was very definitely out of whack. He was all screwed up. “I need to be alone.”
“Oh.” Valentine pulled away from him. “All right.” She walked across to the ladder before turning to say, “So you think it would be all right to approach Mason about the belated Father’s Day picnic?”
“Yeah. Sure.” He returned his gaze to the lump in front of him. With a sigh, he designated himself an oaf and told himself not to abuse Valentine’s kindness. “Hey, he’ll probably be all over it.”
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