Big Sky Bride, Be Mine!

Gratefully, Ian Kincaid didn’t seem to know she was having that response to him as she lifted Abby from his lap to Jenna’s and became very intent on giving her niece more lemonade.

“I should probably go—I saw what I came to see and I’m figuring from the scrubs that you must have to get to work at some point,” Ian said then—in a voice that seemed slightly lower than it had been and suddenly made Jenna worry that he did know something was happening with her.

But even if that was true, he, too, found refuge in Abby by fiddling with one of her curls when he said, “Bye, Abby.”

“Bye,” Abby answered perfunctorily, waving a chubby hand to go along with it, the way she’d been tutored.

Then, to Jenna, Ian said, “Thanks for the lemonade. This was nice.”

“Sure,” was all she said as she watched him get to his feet.

He paused a moment, and she couldn’t tell what was going through his mind before he said, “Tomorrow night is the grand opening of Mackey and McKendrick Furniture Designs—will you be there?”

“I will be,” she said.

A slow smile spread across his handsome face. “Good … I’m glad….” He answered almost as if he shouldn’t be admitting it.

Then he headed for his car, and Jenna watched him go.

And watched him and watched him, drinking in every last drop of the sight of the best derriere she thought she’d ever seen.

Until he rounded the side of the house, and she couldn’t see him anymore.

And she was a little sorry about that …

So apparently, he hadn’t put a damper on her day.

But as for the rest—the skin-tingling on contact, the ogling of his backside when he’d walked away, the fact that she’d enjoyed spending that brief time with him?

She didn’t know where any of that had come from.

But she did know that there was no place in her life for it.

Not now. Not with him.

In the last eleven months, she’d gone from one disaster to another. The death of J.J. and of Abby’s dad. Her own divorce. Her mother’s death. Her father’s. The tax debacle and the likelihood that she was going to lose the farm. She’d gone from chaos to more chaos to even more chaos.

And it had to end. For both her own sake and for Abby’s. They needed to find a little solace, a little calm, a little peace. To settle down, to settle in. Together. Just the two of them.

Nowhere in any of that was there a place for skin-tingling or ogling or enjoying Ian Kincaid’s company.

In fact, a man—any man—but certainly Ian Kincaid of all men, was the anti-solace, the anti-calm, the anti-peace, the anti-settling down, the anti-settling in.

And Jenna wasn’t having any part of that.

So why was she suddenly looking forward to tomorrow night’s grand opening of Mackey and McKendrick Furniture Designs even more than she had been?

It didn’t matter why.

She just knew she needed to squash it.

And that was what she was determined to do.

Although that little bit of a thrill at the thought that Ian Kincaid would be there was hard to catch and squash when it again took flight at merely the glimpse of him behind the wheel of his car as he drove from the side of her house and waved on his way to the main road.

But still she was determined.

Peace and calm and solace, settling in, settling down—that was what she was going to find, to achieve, for herself and for Abby.

Without the disruption of a guy who made her skin tingle …

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