The Rancher's Christmas Baby. Cathy Thacker Gillen
sound impatient.
Amy walked back out with an arch look. “As friends only.”
Maddeningly, Teddy stayed right where he was, giving her little room to maneuver in the cramped space. “It’s still expected that we will reside together.”
Refusing to admit he was quite clearly making his point—her trailer was too tiny for the both of them—she qualified right back, “Once I’m pregnant. But there’s no rush for us to be together under the same roof until then.”
Teddy rubbed the flat of his hand underneath his jaw and regarded her the same way he looked at one of his horses when the animal wasn’t doing what he wanted it to do.
Amy knew that in those situations, Teddy always figured out how to get his way.
It was a quality all good leaders possessed—the ability to figure out how to get someone else to follow.
The problem was, she did not want him to be the leader in their marriage. She did not want either of them to be in a position to boss the other around. She wanted them to continue to do their own thing, in their own way, in their own time.
“So there is no reason we have to reside under the same roof tonight or any other night right now,” Amy concluded.
“I think our parents would beg to differ on that point,” he said dryly.
Normally, Amy liked to exchange ideas and witty remarks with Teddy. But not today. Not after the grilling they had just been through. What she wanted now was some peace and quiet. Privacy. Time to figure out how they were going to proceed with this hasty marriage of theirs.
Her bare feet planted firmly on the carpet, Amy told Teddy, “We’ve already established I don’t care what they think.”
“Then what,” Teddy asked, advancing on her ever so slowly, his low voice going from coolly concerned to ironic, “about what I think?”
AMY STARED AT THE MAN WHO had been her husband for all of six hours. Suddenly, she felt she did not know him at all. The Teddy she thought she knew always gave her plenty of space. He respected her decisions. He did not question anything she did or said. He was content to just let her be herself, regardless of other people’s expectations, which was why she liked hanging out with him so much.
Letting him know that it was not okay to change tactics now, she offered a tight smile. “Please don’t tell me you’re playing the husband card.”
Teddy’s eyebrow went up. “Sorry to disappoint you.”
Amy rummaged around in her top dresser drawer for a pair of wool socks. She pulled out a pair decorated with Christmas wreaths. “We never said we would live together right off the bat!”
He sat down beside her on the bed, looking more comfortable now that he was not hunched over slightly to keep from hitting his head on the top of the travel-trailer ceiling. “It was implied.”
Amy swallowed and continued pulling on her socks. It wasn’t her fault he was so tall and big-boned and muscular. She hadn’t ask him to do the physical labor that left his shoulders so taut and broad that he had to turn slightly to make it through the tiny door frames.
“If it was implied,” Amy countered, “it was only to you.” Finished, she wiggled her sock-clad toes against the carpet…and waited for his rebuttal.
Silence strung out between them.
Just as she expected, he seemed no more apt to back off from his position than she.
He reached over and patted her knee in a manner that was as overly familiar and seductive as it was comforting. “Come on, Amy. People are going to talk enough as it is.”
Skin tingling, Amy vaulted to her feet.
Telling herself the fact they were already bickering mightily, after only being hitched a few hours, was not as bad a sign as it might appear, she scoffed, “So now we’re worried about appearances?”
Teddy stood, too, seemingly unaware of the unprecedented zing of physical attraction flowing through her.
“Damn straight we are.” He placed both hands on her shoulders in a move that felt protective and oddly persuasive. “There are going to be enough raised eyebrows about the fact that we ran off to San Angelo to get hitched without ever going out on a single date.” He stared down at her, pausing to let that sink in. His fingers tightened slightly. “If we want to spare ourselves and our families any further discomfort, everything from here on out has to be done the traditional way.”
Was it warm in there or what? Amy tugged at the collar of her sweater and, with a slight bend of her knees, extricated herself from his light staying grip. Her skin still tingling, she headed back into the hall to check the thermostat mounted on the wall. Sixty-eight degrees. Not exactly a heat wave.
“Except our marriage isn’t traditional,” she continued to argue, wishing he weren’t so close and warm and didn’t smell so good.
“Sure it is.” He regarded her with undisguised amusement. “The only thing we won’t be doing together right away is having sex, and over time, even that could—actually probably will—change.”
Amy’s mouth dropped open in surprise at the frank male confidence in his gaze. She hadn’t expected the always-easygoing Teddy to be so frank about the difficulties of a platonic marital arrangement.
Aware her heart was pounding, she drew in a stabilizing breath. “You’re serious!”
His eyes grew even more serious. He looked interested and not in the least offended. “Yes,” he said bluntly. “I am.” He sauntered closer, his gaze drifting over her lazily, before returning with sexy deliberation to her eyes. “You and I are family now. We’ve got to start acting like one.”
If only it were that simple!
Amy marched past him, toward the living room, then recalling she had forgotten her boots, had to go back to the bedroom to rummage through the mismatched stack of footwear in her closet. “I don’t have any objections to acting like your wife in social situations.” She groaned as she found one red cowgirl boot, and then another, “But that’s as far as it’s going to go because I am not—I repeat not—sharing a bed with you!”
As she twisted back around to face him, his gaze moved from her denim-clad derriere to her face.
“Then what do you propose we do since we each have only a one-bedroom place?” he asked, leaning casually against the portal. “Purchase twin beds?”
Scowling, Amy sat down on the mattress to pull on her boots, one after the other. And she’d thought Teddy was the one male McCabe who was not completely set on having his own way. How wrong could she have been!
She pointed a finger at his chest. “That might not be a bad idea.”
He rolled his eyes in exasperation. “I’m kidding, Amy.”
“I’m not.” She stood up and moved past him, glad the heels of her Western boots had given her an additional three inches. When facing off with him, she needed every bit of height she could get.
Tersely, she reminded him, “We agreed before we said our vows—no sex!”
“Unless,” he stated, still looking perfectly at ease, not to mention very handsome, “there comes a time when we both change our minds on that point.”
Unbidden, an image of the two of them, naked, between the sheets, entered Amy’s mind.
“I told you,” she retorted with a lot more patience than she felt, pushing the disturbing image away, “that is very unlikely.”
Teddy shrugged, accepting her rejection with the deference of a Texas gentleman, born and bred. “For the immediate future, I agree,” he said softly. “We’re going to have to get used to living as man and wife in every other way. And then see how we feel.”