Page 57 of The Wedding Gift
“Yeah, right.” Lacy started at Becca’s toes and slowly let her eyes travel up to the top of her red hair. “I guess I’ll lose my five dollars.”
“I’m Becca McKay,” she introduced herself. “How are you going to lose five dollars because we’re buying blankets for new babies?”
“Lacy Ruiz,” she nodded. “We’ve got a pot goin’ at the Broken Bit about what kind of woman will finally rope Dalton, and I sure didn’t bet on it being a tall redhead. I guess there’s more than one way to get a cowboy to the altar.” Her eyes shifted from Becca’s stomach to the blankets in the cart. “I’ve got several things to get before the store closes.” She paused and patted Dalton on the cheek. “I just can’t see you as a daddy. I guess this will keep you away from the Broken Bit, but if it goes south, darlin’, you know where I live.”
“Sweet Lord!” Becca gasped when the woman had gone.
“I expect they’ll all be disappointed in nine months.” Dalton shrugged. “Let’s go find the cat toys now.”
“Why didn’t you tell her we were buying these for kittens?” Becca asked.
“You think she would have believed me? That sounds like a lame excuse,” Dalton said.
Becca giggled. “It does, doesn’t it? I guess I’d better tell Grammie about this as soon as I get home. I bet that hussy is calling everyone she knows on her cell phone right now, and I sure don’t want to have Grammie yelling at me because she heard it first from one of her friends.”
“So…” Dalton dragged out the word. “Are you going to marry me and make a decent man of me?”
“Nope.” She shook her head slowly as she tossed half a dozen cat toys into the cart. “I’d never rope a guy in by getting pregnant. Marriage should be for love, not necessity, and there should never be regrets.”
“How did you get so smart?” he asked.
“It’s the Irish in me.” She started toward the checkout counter. “Grammie says we’re born smart.”
“I believe it.” Dalton’s eyes glanced at Becca’s flat stomach behind the waistband of her jeans, and he wondered what she’d look like pregnant. If they ever did establish a permanent relationship, their children would be tall for sure. Withhim standing at six foot two inches and Becca almost kissing six feet, there was no way they’d be short. Would they have dark hair like his or red like hers? Would their eyes be blue or green, or maybe even brown like his maternal grandfather’s?
“Earth to Dalton.” She poked him on the arm.
“Sorry, I was off in another world,” he said.
“What world would that be?” she asked.
“I’ve got to deliver some rodeo bulls down to a ranch rodeo in Haskell, Texas, on Friday.” He said the first thing that came to his mind. “Want to ride along with me? We’ll be back by suppertime.”
“Depends on what’s going on in the wine shed,” she answered.
At least she didn’t say no, he thought as he pushed the empty cart away from the counter for her.
The trip back to Terral seemed to go by in a flash, and suddenly, they were parked outside Greta’s house. There wasn’t a full lover’s moon hanging in the sky, but it was a three-quarter one with stars dancing around it. He could think of all kinds of come-on lines, but not a single one of them seemed appropriate for a woman like his Becca.
My Becca,he thought.Someday, maybe—if I’m as lucky as Rye was when he fell for Austin at first sight.
He got out of the truck, helped her out, and carried thebag of their purchases to the door for her. “I had a great time today, and thanks for helping me with chores.”
“Thanks for supper.” She locked eyes with him.
He dropped the bag on the porch and tipped up her chin with his fist. Her eyes fluttered shut, and her thick lashes fanned out on her cheek. He wanted to kiss her eyes, but that could come later. Right then, he craved the taste of her full lips.
When the kiss ended, he politely picked up the bag and put it in her hands. “Good night, Becca.” His voice sounded strange in his own ears.
“Good night, Dalton,” she whispered.
“I’ll call you tomorrow,” he said.
“Okay,” she said.
“I guess it was a date,” she muttered as she took the blankets and toys into the house.
“So?” Greta raised an eyebrow.