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A Baby of Her Own

A Baby of Her Own (Dundee, Idaho #1)(7)
Author: Brenda Novak

“You live around here?” she asked, keeping her focus strictly on him because the man in the red flannel shirt kept leaning forward to entice her with a battered grin. He might as well have been holding a sign that read “Take me,” but Delaney simply wasn’t interested. She’d do the artificial thing first.

“No, I’m just in town for the night,” the younger man said. “What about you?”

Now that she was so close, she could tell his eyes weren’t entirely brown. Gold flecks made them appear almost amber, and there was something inside them that seemed more worldly wise than Delaney would have expected for a man who seemed to be about her own age. After only a few seconds in his company, he reminded her much less of Hugh Jackman. He didn’t possess the same relaxed smile or laid-back attitude. This man came across as intense, shrewd, even unforgiving, which added significantly to Delaney’s anxiety.

I don’t have to worry about his ability to forgive. I’m never going to see him again.

His eyes fell to the cle**age revealed by her dress, and she instinctively moved to cover herself. Rebecca had insisted she go without underwear—there wasn’t any way to hide the lines and straps beneath the stretchy fabric—but the lack of her most basic apparel made her feel completely exposed. Leaning forward, she folded her arms on the bar and hid her chest behind them, just as Rebecca came to her rescue by engaging the leering cowboy and drawing him away to their table.

“I live a couple of hours from here,” she responded automatically, then wanted to kick herself for being so truthful. The less he knew about her the better.

“Oh, really? Where?” Unless it was her imagination, his voice revealed a spark of interest.

“Jerome,” she lied, picking a town on the opposite side of Boise.

“Oh.”

The spark died, and an awkward silence followed, during which Delaney curled her fingers into her palms and thought of all the ways she planned to torture Rebecca for pushing her into this. She was going to tell Buddy that Rebecca had a snoring problem. She was going to hold Rebecca to her promise to quit smoking, starting immediately. She was going to unscrew the lid on their salt shaker and—and what? Delaney couldn’t think of anything terrible enough, not while she was feeling like such a fool, but she knew Rebecca deserved whatever she came up with. If not for her, Delaney would be safe at home dreaming about a baby…and doing absolutely nothing to make it a reality.

That thought sobered her enough to keep her where she was. One night, one man, remember? No big deal.

“What can I get for you?” the bartender asked, finally making his way over.

Delaney ordered a club soda and opened her purse to get her money, but the man surprised her by paying for it. “What are you and your friend doing in town?” he asked, once her drink had been delivered.

Delaney took a sip and focused on his hands, which circled his beer glass. They were big, strong hands. And he wasn’t wearing a wedding ring. “Uh, it’s a business trip,” she said.

“And you’re looking for something to relieve the boredom, is that it?”

Evidently he wasn’t much for small talk. But Delaney didn’t mind. Being direct could save a lot of time. Besides, if she had her guess, his type would be selfish and quick in the bedroom, which suited her just fine. She didn’t want to enjoy the experience. That would make what she was doing seem even worse than it already was.

“I suppose so,” she said, wishing her heart would quit jumping around in her chest. “You game?”

He took a drink of his beer. “What’s your name?”

Delaney thought about using a false name, then decided against it. She didn’t want the added worry of having to remember it, and as long as they remained on a first-name basis, she couldn’t see any harm in telling him the truth. “Delaney.”

“Delaney’s some name. And that’s some dress.”

The way he said it, she couldn’t be sure it was a compliment. He wasn’t easy to read, but she was sort of grateful for that. His lackluster response made the initial contact difficult, but if she could just get him into a room, she wouldn’t have a lot to worry about. He was too aloof to connect with her on a personal level. And he definitely seemed the type to take a brief encounter in stride. Rebecca might have been judging him on different criteria, but she was right—he was perfect for their purposes.

“And your name is…”

“Conner.”

He didn’t offer a last name, either, and Delaney took that as a sign that they were thinking along the same lines. “So, Conner,” she said. “Do you want to…” She couldn’t complete the question, but she figured he’d understand what she meant.

He raised his brows and looked over his shoulder. Rebecca was sitting with the cowboy, having a drink and talking while watching them surreptitiously. “Are you sure you know what you want?”

“What do you mean? Doesn’t this dress say it all?”

“It says a lot,” he admitted, “but the way your hands are shaking says even more.”

“I’ve never done this before.”

“Then, why are you starting now?”

Delaney hadn’t expected such frank questions. All she’d hoped to do was catch a man’s eye and dazzle him to the point that he’d give her what she wanted. Obviously Conner didn’t dazzle easily.

“Why not?” she asked.

“Fair enough, but I’ve got to get up early. I think I’ll pass,” he said.

He stood, and she knew that in a moment, he’d leave and her best chance of making her plan work would disappear with him.

Swallowing hard, she caught his arm. “Okay, would you want to be a virgin at thirty?”

SO THAT WAS DELANEY’S STORY. Conner had known something was up. All the warning bells in his head had been going off. But now that he understood her agenda, he could definitely see her point. He wouldn’t want to be a virgin, not with one-third of his life already over.

Hesitating, Conner stared down at the hand that held him, then at the honest appeal in the woman’s face. He didn’t want to be tempted, but he was. He’d been tempted since he’d seen her in the mirror, because of her eyes, not her dress. But he knew he was only setting himself up for more self-defeating behavior. One-night stands didn’t do anything for him. He always woke in the morning feeling empty inside, as though he was missing something important. And yet here he was, hovering at the brink of taking the uninitiated Delaney to his room and giving her exactly what she was looking for, probably more than once.

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