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Had his brother felt this protective of her?
That question gave him a stone-cold feeling. He motioned toward the staircase. “Ladies first.”
Once upstairs in the spare room, Brock realized how bad an idea this was. The room was small, barely big enough for the computer setup, Kylie’s sewing machine, her craft supplies and the table she worked on. There was a soft leather purse laying on the table with fringes that were partially beaded.
When Kylie sat in the wooden chair at the table, he asked, “Don’t you want a pillow or something?”
“A pillow would just slide off. This chair’s just right with the table.” She switched on an intensity light where she was working.
Although he booted up the computer, that wasn’t where his attention stayed. Maybe it was the scent of Kylie’s shampoo, or some kind of lotion. She’d never been one for perfume. She’d always chosen natural scents. This combination was something like peach and spice. At least that’s what it smelled like to him.
When he glanced at her over his shoulder, she was already busy at work. She had her left arm propped on the table and was using her hands to hold the leather. Her head was bent and her silky, glossy hair, more golden than any wheat field, fell lazily over her shoulder. As she used tweezers and wire, her fingers almost looked as if they were dancing.
Again he turned his focus to the computer screen and the icons there, clicked on the accounting program and found the year he was looking for. But Kylie working silently less than five feet away was a distraction he couldn’t ignore.
Out of the blue she asked, “What size turkey did you order?”
“It’s big. I just told Vince Shafer to hold one for me. How long has he had the store on Bear Claw Road? He used to sell from his ranch.”
Kylie had her lips pursed as she concentrated on slipping the bead onto the piece of rawhide. “Mmm, about three years, I guess. It’s only been the last one or two he’s gone organic with some of the vegetables. I like that idea, especially now that I’m pregnant.” Her gaze came up to meet Brock’s and he saw there hopes and dreams and longings that twisted in his chest.
She broke eye contact first and went back to her beadwork.
“How did Alex feel about being a father-to-be?” Brock asked nonchalantly, though he was feeling anything but nonchalant.
She took her time in answering. When she did, it was evasive. “He was getting used to the idea.”
“My guess is, he did want a son so he’d be able to teach him all the secrets of bull riding.”
After a moment, Kylie responded, “We never really discussed that.” Then she stood. “I think I am going to take that nap. This position’s hurting my shoulder and…and I don’t want to make it worse than it is.”
When she walked to the door, Brock thought she was as graceful as ever, pregnant or not.
Then she was gone, just like that, leaving him with too many questions.
He was going to find the answers…and soon.
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