Free Loving A Cowboy by Anne Carrole Page B

and dinner with ribs as a chaser. She’d have to go to the grocery store after she fixed Chance some eggs. And check out some recipes via the Internet. She’d already spied a grill on the patio by the pool. Grilling couldn’t be too hard, if she could figure out how to turn it on.
    In no time, she’d finished the bacon and cheese omelet, toasted the bread and buttered it, and poured a glass of milk. She’d figure out how to make coffee later. Being a tea drinker, she didn’t have a clue what a good cup of coffee tasted like.
    With no tray available, she simply put the salt and pepper shakers under one arm and managed to handle the plate, silverware, napkin, and glass with both hands. College waitress skills came in handy.
    “You stay here, Cowboy,” she bid the cat, stretched lazily across the kitchen floor in a dapple of sunlight. She’d already set up Cowboy’s food, water, and litter pan in the mud room near the back door, and he’d made himself right at home.
    The door to Chance’s room was open, and he was propped up in bed, cell phone pressed to his ear.
    A smile escaped her lips when she noted he’d wrestled on some jeans. He’d left the dresser drawer half open and the crutches lying across the foot of the bed. But he hadn’t covered up his bruised chest. She imagined those ribs weren’t feeling too good right now.
    She toed open the door and brought the food forward. In a second, he was off the phone.
    “Talking to my trainer. Says within a few weeks, he should have me back on my feet, literally.” A broad smile flashed across his movie-star handsome face, along with a heavy dose of relief.
    She knew the doctor had given him a different timetable, but she wasn’t going to press it. At least not today. She’d fill him in on her opinion when the time came.
    “Looks good, Libby. But milk? What am I, five?”
    “I still don’t know how to make coffee. And I’ll be honest with you—I’m not exactly an experienced cook. But now is as good a time to learn as any. I can’t be eating out at chain restaurants all my life. Not if I’m going to have a family someday.”
    He frowned and took up the fork she’d handed him as she placed the plate near him on the bed and the milk on the nightstand so it wouldn’t spill.
    “Your guy wants kids, I guess?” he muttered.
    Ben had told her he wanted to wait on children until they had the money for a house, and he wanted no more than two due to the cost of raising a child. He’d been quite adamant about that. It had all sounded reasonable at the time. “Yes, eventually.”
    “We were going to have four, if I recall.” He took a mouthful of the omelet, but his cool gray eyes stayed focused on her.
    “Yes.” She remembered. She also remembered the tingling feeling she always got deep in the pit of her stomach when she’d think about having Chance’s children. Like her body was getting primed and ready. That was then. So why was she feeling all tingly now?
    “We haven’t decided on how many.” Ben may want only two, but she hadn’t agreed yet. In her mind it was still an open topic—as open as whether she even should be with Ben, considering her chaotic feelings for Chance.
    “What does he do?” Chance was still staring at her, barely blinking.
    “He’s a geological engineer, but he also has a master’s in business, so he’s looking to be in management for a drilling company. He’s in a training program at the moment.” Why did it suddenly sound so dull?
    “Met him at school?”
    She nodded.
    “Guess you prefer ties to blue jeans.” He shook his head as if he was disappointed in her. Well, she’d surely disappointed him on so many levels, what was one more.
    “There’s nothing wrong with a man in a suit and tie,” she answered, trying to keep the irritation out of her voice. “And he hasn’t asked yet. We’re still in the talking stage.”
    And clearly she and Ben needed to talk. She might be able to convince Chance she still