A Baby...Maybe? & How to Hunt a Husband by Bonnie Tucker Read Free Book Online Page A

much of a Texas accent.
    He was looking beyond her, waving at people. She heard a few comments like, “Way to go, Doc,” and “Did you miss your lips?” This man, the doc, waved and took the teasing all pretty good-naturedly considering she had clobbered him with food and everyone knew red sauce never washed out of anything.
    Cara peeled the napkins off the side of her tea glass. Although they were thin and would hardly do any good, she still reached out again, brushed his stained shoulders with the limp wet napkins. Not one of her better ideas, she realized too late, after the splattershad spread into smears and the napkins tore into gross little pieces.
    â€œI’m so sorry.” She barely could get the words out. “I just want to crawl into a hole and die of embarrassment.”
    â€œNo, you don’t,” he countered.
    â€œYou’re right.” She balled what was left of the napkins and put the mess on the plate, crowning the pile of dirty wings. “It seemed like the nice thing, the right thing to say, though.” She gave him her best smile as she did a “I’m a woman, I don’t care what you think” half shrug. She’d seen it done on TV many times. It looked good.
    â€œVery nice.”
    â€œThank you. Can I ask you a question?” she said.
    â€œAsk away.”
    â€œWhat were you really doing down there?” She picked up her glass of iced tea. The glass was wet and her hands were sticky. She wiped the moisture from the sides of the glass. Her hand shook a little and that surprised her. She couldn’t possibly be nervous, could she? With a man? That would be silly. “Were you trying to look under my skirt?”
    â€œWhat? Do you think I’m stupid?”
    She shrugged.
    â€œIf anyone is being stupid, lady, it’s you.”
    â€œThat’s not a very nice thing to say.”
    â€œWell, you’re not wearing a skirt.”
    â€œOh.” She grinned at him. “I’m on vacation.”
    â€œAnd I was on a mission. Which I had already told you about.” He waved the broken phone. “My assistant would have killed me if I lost another one.”
    Rex hadn’t needed to be showered with chicken, hot sauce and ranch dressing, thank you very much. Then again, in front of him, separated only by an iron railing was one stunning-looking female, and if he had to be hit on the head with chicken, she was the onehe’d like to be doing it. For once, he would consider thanking Cathy and her constant pestering that had sent him back out looking for his lost cell phone.
    The lady on the patio was small. Very small. But after a cursory gaze down her figure, he decided she wasn’t small everywhere. Not where it counted. Her brown hair looked mighty thick and heavy and hung down past her waist. Strands of hair fell over her shoulders, covering her breasts. She flipped it behind her by shaking her head and using the back of her wrist—the only part of her hand not covered in sauce. When she did that, the sun reflected off the gold around her wrist, neck and ears, almost blinding him with its brightness. All the jewelry seemed to made of coins that jangled with her movements. If the coins were real and not the hollow cheap stuff you could buy at the five-and-dime, then the gold had to weigh more than she did. He was impressed by her ability to stand straight and not be weighed down by hair and jewelry.
    And that hair. When she tossed it all behind her, revealing her breasts and all the gold, he had to admit that he liked that. A lot. It was nice. Real nice. The curls, not her breasts. Although her breasts, from what he could tell by their shape under the sweater, were something he could be real comfortable with exploring further. They looked mighty good, too.
    Her small nose was straight except at the tip where it turned up very slightly. Her chin was rounded and at this moment quivering, as if she was trying not