LITMIR.BIZ

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with the temperature gauge?”

      He thought she might argue—if only for the sake of it—but she opened the passenger door. Then he had to choke back a laugh when she climbed across and into the driver’s seat, where she started the engine. Her focus was clearly on her dashboard and he could tell the gauge was rising just by the frown on her face.

      She shut off the engine again and looked through the windshield. “Needle went straight to the red.” She climbed back out the passenger side.

      “Something wrong with the driver’s-side door?”

      She was looking down at herself as she got out, tweaking that white skirt hugging her slender hips until it hung smooth and straight. “No, but I don’t want it getting hit by a passing vehicle if I open it.”

      He eyed the distance between the edge of the road and where she’d pulled off on the shoulder. “Real cautious of you.”

      “I’m a lawyer. I’m always cautious.”

      “Overly so, I’d say.” Not that he hadn’t enjoyed the show. She was a little skinny for his taste, but he couldn’t deny she was a looker. He pulled off his cowboy hat long enough to swipe his arm across his forehead. “I can drive you into town, or I can send a tow out for you.” He didn’t have time to do both, because he had to be back at the ranch before the nanny left or his housekeeper, Mrs. Pyle, would have kittens. “What’s your choice?”

      * * *

      Greer swallowed her frustration. Considering Ryder Wilson’s standoffishness since they’d met, she was a little surprised that he’d stopped to assist at all.

      As soon as she’d realized who was driving the enormous pickup truck pulling up behind her car, she’d been torn between anticipation and the desire to cry what next?

      It was entirely annoying that the brawny, blue-eyed rancher was the first man to make her hormones sit up and take notice in too long a while.

      Annoying and impossible to act on, considering the strange nature of their acquaintance.

      All she wanted to do was ask Ryder how Layla was doing. But Maddie had been insistent that none of them intrude on him too soon.

      They’d all been wrapped around Layla’s tiny little finger and none more than Maddie, who’d been caring for her nearly the whole while before Ali discovered Ryder’s existence. Yet it was Maddie who’d urged them to give Ryder time. To adjust. To adapt. They knew Ryder was taking decent care of the baby he’d claimed, because Maddie’s boss, Raymond Marx, checked up on him for a while at first, so he could report back to the courts. Give Ryder time, Maddie insisted, and eventually he would see the benefit of letting them past his walls.

      Didn’t mean that it had been easy.

      Didn’t mean it was easy now, not dashing over to the truck to see Layla.

      She didn’t know if it was that prospect that made her feel so shaky inside, or if it was because of Layla’s brown-haired daddy. She wasn’t sure she even liked Ryder all that much.

      Yes, he’d been legally named Layla’s father and yes, he’d taken responsibility for her. But there was an edge to him that had rubbed Greer wrong from the very first time they met. She just hadn’t been able to pinpoint why.

      “If you don’t mind driving me into town,” she managed, “I’d be grateful.”

      The brim of his hat dipped briefly. “Probably should lock her up.” He started for his big truck parked behind the car.

      She watched him walk away. He was wearing blue jeans and a checked shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. Except for when he’d briefly swiped an arm over his forehead, he appeared unaffected by the sweltering day.

      “Probably should lock her up,” she parroted childishly under her breath. As if she didn’t have the sense to know that without being told.

      She retrieved her purse and briefcase from the back seat, looping the long straps over her shoulder, then warily lifted the trunk lid higher. The shower cake that she’d nestled carefully between two boxes full of work from the office amazingly didn’t look too much the worse for wear. It was a delightful amalgam of block and ball shapes, frosted in white, yellow and blue. How Tabby Clay had balanced them all together like that was a mystery to Greer.

      She was just glad to see that the creation hadn’t melted into a puddle of goo while she’d waited on the side of the road.

      She carefully lifted the white board with the heavy cake on top out of the trunk and gingerly carried it toward Ryder’s truck. Her heart was beating so hard, she could hear it inside her head. The last time she’d seen Layla had been at Shop-World in Weaver, when she’d taken a client shopping for an affordable set of clothes to wear for trial, and Ryder had been in the next checkout line over, buying diapers, coffee and whiskey.

      Layla had been asleep in the cart. Greer had noticed that her blond curls had gotten a reddish cast, but the stuffed pony she’d clutched was the same one Greer had given her for Valentine’s Day.

      It had been all she could do not to pluck the baby out of the cart and cuddle her close. Instead, after a stilted exchange with Ryder, she’d hustled her client through the checkout so fast that he’d wondered out loud if she’d slid through without paying for something. No. That’s what you like to do, she’d told him as she’d rushed him out the door.

      But now, when she got close enough to Ryder’s truck to see inside, her feet dragged to a halt.

      There was no car seat.

      Definitely no Layla.

      The disappointment that swamped her was so searing, it put the hot afternoon sun to shame. Her eyes stung and she blinked hard, quickening her pace once more only to feel her heel slide on the loose gravel. The heavy cake started tipping one way and she leveled the board, even as her shoulder banged against the side of his truck.

      She froze, holding her breath as she held the cake board aloft.

      “What the hell are you doing over here?”

      She was hot. Sweaty. And brokenhearted that she wasn’t getting a chance to see sweet Layla.

      “What do you care?” she snapped back. She was still holding the cake straight out from her body, and the weight of it was considerable. “Just open the door, would you please? If I don’t deliver this thing in one piece, Ali’s going to skin me alive.”

      He gave her a wide berth as he reached around her to open the door of the truck. “Let me take it.” His hands covered hers where she held the board, and she jerked as if he’d prodded her with a live wire.

      Her face went hot. “I don’t need your help.”

      He let go and held his hands up in the air. “Whatever.” He backed away.

      Nobody liked to feel self-conscious. Not even her.

      She turned away from him to set the cake board inside the truck, but it was too big to fit on the floor, which meant she’d have to hold it on her lap.

      Greer heaved out a breath and looked at Ryder. He wordlessly took the cake long enough for her to dump her briefcase and purse on the floor, and climb up on the high seat.

      “All settled now?” His voice was mild.

      For some reason, it annoyed her more than if he’d made some snarky comment.

      Unfortunately, that’s when she realized that she’d left her trunk open and the car unlocked.

      She slid off the seat again, mentally cursing ranchers and their too-big trucks as she jumped out onto the ground. Ignoring the amused glint in his dark blue eyes, she strode past him, grinding her teeth when her heel again slid on the loose gravel.

      She’d have landed on her butt if not for the quick hand he shot out to steady her.

      She shrugged off

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