Free THE TEXAS WILDCATTER'S BABY by CATHY GILLEN THACKER Page A

brightened. This was the first thing she’d done that was the slightest bit domestic, and he liked seeing this side of her. “Sure. No problem.”
    While he drove, she plucked the notepad and pen from her bag and made a list. She tore it in two as they headed inside. “If we each take a basket, it will be faster.”
    And, Rand noted, they needed to be quick since they only had fifteen minutes until closing. It took every moment of that to get the items she had assigned him. When they met up at the line, the clerk rang up the items, he paid, and Ginger bagged.
    Only when they got back to the cottage did he have a chance to really see what they had purchased. Steak, chicken, ground beef. Lots of fresh produce and fruit. Cereal. Milk. Juice. Several kinds of flour and sugar, spices and other baking items. Eggs.
    “You planning to cook?”
    “Are you?”
    He lifted an affable shoulder. “I can grill.”
    “Well, I can do everything else.”
    “Sounds like a plan,” he said cheerfully.
    Ginger finished putting the refrigerator items away, then picked up the lone bag of chocolate sandwich cookies and a gallon of milk, and carried them, along with a glass, to the dining table.
    She disappeared for a moment. He heard her hauling her suitcase out of the closet. More activity followed, then she came out with a bottle of prenatal vitamins in her hand. “Doctor’s orders,” she explained as she sank onto a chair and kicked off her shoes.
    Rand moved to join her at the table. “Actually, there’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you...” He cleared his throat, feeling oddly out of sorts. “Have you had any morning sickness yet?”
    “Thankfully...no. I’m hoping to dodge that bullet altogether. I have friends who have been green around the gills for their entire pregnancy, and that would put a definite crimp in my work schedule.” Relaxing with a mixture of fatigue and relief, Ginger poured herself a tall glass of milk, downed a vitamin and then opened the bag of cookies.
    Brow furrowing, she studied the interior of the package.
    “Is there a problem?”
    “I’m deciding how many to eat.”
    He loved the fact she was, and probably always would be on some level, a total mystery to him. He also loved how cute she looked when she was mildly perplexed. He sauntered closer. “Are we rationing them?”
    She wrinkled her nose and returned, in the same deadpan tone, “If I had as many as I wanted, I’d eat the whole package in one sitting.”
    Rand laughed, not surprised she was greedy when it came to pure pleasure. So was he. He pulled out a chair, turned it around, sank onto it and folded his arms along the back. “So how many are you going to partake in, then?”
    While she considered, Ginger let out a sexy little sigh. “Mmm. Two is too little, six is too much, even though there are six in the individual snack packs they sell.” Her luscious lower lip pushed out in a delectable pout. She squinted, still thinking, and finally said, “Probably four.” Decision made, she took four from the center row of the package.
    Rand took four, too, from the same row, leaving complete rows on either side of the pillaged one. “I haven’t had these in a while.” He got up to get a glass for himself.
    “Me, either. But I got to thinking about them while we were waiting for the meeting to start.” She opened up a cookie and licked the vanilla cream out of the middle.
    Rand nearly groaned.
    The milk he was pouring splashed over the rim. Ignoring the hardness pressing against his fly, he grabbed a dishcloth and mopped up the mess. Returning to the table, he sat opposite her. “Is it your first craving?”
    Ginger made a face, clearly resenting his question. “Hey.” She lifted a staying hand. “I’m trying not to be a cliché.”
    Rand watched, his mouth dry, as she dunked a chocolate circle into the milk, swished it around delicately, and then popped the soggy confection into her mouth.
    “You could never be a