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Coming Home to Texas
Victoria Chancellor
Love, Marriage…Baby?
Plus-size model Jodie Marsh knows she wants these things–in the future. But when she becomes pregnant after a wild weekend with confirmed bachelor Travis Whitaker, she has to get married now to save her professional image as America's Girl Next Door.
To her surprise, Travis agrees to marry her, but on one conditionhe doesn't want a marriage of convenience. He wants to make their relationship real. So Jodie's got the baby and she's got the man. But will she find the first part of the equationtrue love?
It looks as if Jodie just may get what she wantsalbeit in the wrong order!
“Three days to plan a wedding!”
“You’ll have one day to decide, then we need to go to the county clerk’s office to apply for a license. I suggest you call your relatives, friends and business associates tomorrow and make travel arrangements for them. I’ll take care of the rest.”
Jodie looked completely stunned as she sat upright in the chair, framed by the window. In the dark glass, Travis saw a reflection of the room. He saw himself, looking stiff and determined. Well, fine. That was how he felt. His decision was firm—he wasn’t getting married again unless it was for keeps. Maybe he and Jodie didn’t have enough in common to build a marriage.
But maybe, just maybe, they did.
Dear Reader,
Ranger Springs, Texas, is the type of place that exists in stories I’ve heard from my wonderful native-Texan in-laws, Vaughn and Lillian Huffstutler, and in my imagination of what a small town should be. It’s the type of place where I’d love to live—if only they had a major mall, a large grocery store and a Starbucks! In that regard, I’m very similar to the heroine of Coming Home to Texas, Jodie Marsh. She’s a California “city girl” who marries Texas rancher Travis Whitaker. She must then adapt to his adopted hometown in the Texas Hill Country. I’m a Kentucky “city girl” who married my very own Texan thirty-three years ago.
Jodie and Travis Whitaker are modern characters in a traditional setting. She’s a plus-size model and he’s a famous architect. They are introduced by characters you might recognize from The Prince’s Cowboy Double and The Prince’s Texas Bride. Their attraction is immediate—with consequences that extend well beyond the nine months she anticipates.
I hope you enjoy this sixth book in my Ranger Springs series. Please write to me at P.O. Box 852125, Richardson, TX 75085 and include a SASE for reply, or e-mail me at victoriachancellor@msn.com.
Best wishes and happy reading,
Victoria Chancellor
Coming Home to Texas
Victoria Chancellor
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
To my lovely niece Laura Madrill, her wonderful husband, David, and their precious Garrett Adam. All the best forever.
Thanks to former model and supermother Cari Manderscheid for her expertise.
Books by Victoria Chancellor
HARLEQUIN AMERICAN ROMANCE
844—THE BACHELOR PROJECT
884—THE BEST BLIND DATE IN TEXAS
955—THE PRINCE’S COWBOY DOUBLE
959—THE PRINCE’S TEXAS BRIDE
992—THE C.E.O. & THE COOKIE QUEEN
Contents
Chapter One (#ucbb16258-c4f1-54f7-a590-a0a6567db7d0)
Chapter Two (#u41077da5-64be-5bad-8e77-a36554c8e067)
Chapter Three (#u2971603f-895b-5708-b8f5-96d0c971747a)
Chapter Four (#uec96524b-a068-5bd1-bd28-49f5214deeba)
Chapter Five (#u1eefe6b0-c08b-5554-aa6b-2c8550800ef2)
Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Thirteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Fourteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Fifteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Sixteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Seventeen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eighteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter One
Jodie Marsh gathered her courage along with her Kate Spade tote and umbrella, preparing to make a mad dash toward Travis Whitaker’s front porch. A mad dash toward her immediate future. With one last sigh, she pushed open the door to her rental car and swung her legs out. Her feet landed in a puddle and she watched as her Manolo Blahnik sandals disappeared in a small pool of muddy water. Great. Now she would squish when she confronted him.
Travis wasn’t expecting her and she doubted he’d even heard the car pull into the driveway over the persistent rain. His house looked spacious and new, although it also reminded her of the old rock homes and weathered-wood barns she’d seen dotting the countryside. She assumed he’d designed it since he was an architect.
Jodie stopped on the porch and folded her umbrella, shaking the water from it. Frowning, she wiggled her sandals, but they were still wet enough to make her feet feel slippery. And cold. She’d assumed Texas would be warmer and drier. Now she was mentally and physically uncomfortable. She took another deep breath and peered inside the house.
The windows were dark and looked rather intimidating beneath the leaden sky, but she wasn’t going to let rain or her imagination stop her from talking to the man with whom she’d spent one spectacular weekend almost five weeks ago. He’d been a blind date, but a fantastic one. They’d shared an immediate attraction—and much more—for two and a half days in Monte Carlo.
She’d hesitated long enough. After placing a hand on her stomach, she rang the doorbell. And waited.
And waited. Where was Travis? She’d called from the airport but had hung up as soon as he’d answered. Calling had been a mistake. She couldn’t talk to him on a crackling, staticky cell phone during a thunderstorm. What she had to say needed to be said in person, so she’d driven here as quickly as possible from the San Antonio airport.
“Where are you, Travis Whitaker?” she whispered as she pressed the doorbell again then added a few knocks in case the electricity was out. The lunch crowd at a quaint diner in downtown Ranger Springs had told her how to find the ranch, and she had to assume he hadn’t left in the past hour.
Just when she thought she might have to search elsewhere on the property for the elusive architect, the door flew open.
“Jodie?”
“Hello, Travis.” She stared at his disheveled, sun-streaked hair, frayed University of Texas sweatshirt and faded jeans. His beautiful feet were bare. He looked so much like he had just after they’d made wild, passionate love that her heart skipped a beat.
“What are you—Never mind, that was rude, and not what I meant. Please, come inside.”
She leaned her umbrella against the house, shook more water from her sandals and slid past him into the warmth of his home. Mmm. He even smelled the same, like clean, warm male and Mediterranean sunshine, despite the rainy, cool Texas day.
“Can I get you something? You look a little cold.”
She wasn’t about to tell him she was shaking more from nerves than the weather. Instead she shook her head. “I’m fine.”
“Come into the great room. I have a fire going.”
She followed him down the slate-tiled hallway, her wet sandals slapping against the floor, like a prisoner being led to the gallows. Not that they really used gallows anymore. Not that she’d done anything wrong, or wanted to feel like a criminal…or a victim.
Not that she was so nervous that she was babbling inside her head. With each step, an unaccustomed sense of panic increased until she couldn’t stand the tension a moment longer.
“Wait,” she said, grabbing his arm as they reached the doorway. “I have something to tell you and I need to do it now, before we get comfortable in front of the fire.” Before he made her feel welcome in his home.
“What’s wrong?” He looked so handsome, so concerned, as he reached out to steady her. His hands felt strong and comforting on her shoulders, as if he’d reached out to her many times before. As if they’d had more than a couple of fantastic days together.
She wanted to wrap her arms around his neck, to hold him tight and to whisper the truth. But she needed to see his face, not retreat to his warmth and strength, when she broke the news.
“Not quite wrong, but…” she began. “Well, I’m not sure how you’re going to react, so I need to just tell you this. Right now, right here.”
“What’s going on, Jodie?”
She took a deep breath, then the words rushed past her cold, trembling lips. “I’m pregnant. The baby is definitely yours. And we need to get married right away.”
He looked as stunned as she’d felt when the doctor had confirmed the pregnancy kit test result. America’s new “girl next door” was going to be an unwed mother unless she could get Travis Whitaker’s immediate cooperation.
“PREGNANT?” he repeated, dropping his hands from her shoulders and stepping back. His immediate joy that she’d arrived in Ranger Springs, coupled with surprise that she’d sought him out, came to an abrupt halt. He felt as if he’d been poleaxed. Him, a father?
But he shouldn’t be all that surprised. They’d used protection all but one time, when she’d surprised him in the shower. He hadn’t been prepared for her sexy smile, her slippery, soft skin and very talented use of a body puff. In so many ways Jodie was unlike any other woman he’d been involved with.
“Yes, pregnant,” she said. “I know I said we should be okay, that it was a safe time of the month, but apparently I was wrong.”
“I—I don’t know what to say.”
She narrowed her eyes and placed her hands on her curvy hips. “You don’t have to say anything, but I’m hoping I can get your cooperation. Travis, this is important to me.”
“Having a baby is rather important to everyone involved, wouldn’t you say?” he asked with barely controlled sarcasm. What did she mean, it was important to her, when she’d just dropped a bombshell on him and added that they needed to get married right away?
“Look, I know you’re shocked and disappointed—”
“With all due respect,” he interrupted, running a hand through his shaggy hair, “I don’t think you know me well enough to decide what I’m feeling.”
She stepped back, turning a little pale beneath her golden, California-girl tan. “Okay, I understand your position. I’d just go away and leave you alone, but—”
“I didn’t ask you to leave.”
“You don’t seem especially glad to see me, either. Which I can understand, given what I just told you.”
“I was—am—glad to see you. But you did throw me for a loop. You certainly don’t mince words, do you?”
“Not on anything this important.”
He ran his hand through his hair again, wishing they could start over. “Look, let’s go sit down and talk like reasonable adults. The fire is warm and, quite frankly, you look as though you need to sit down.”
“Great. Just the look I was going for—helpless female.”
“Jodie, I don’t think anyone would call you helpless, or weak, or any other unflattering adjectives. But you are definitely female.”
When he’d first met Jodie, he’d been pleasantly surprised. His friends had mentioned she was a model who’d just finished a swimsuit photo shoot in Monaco. He’d been expecting a silicone-enhanced, tall, tanned, self-indulgent, waiflike creature. Not his usual type of petite, acquiescent woman, but heck, he was flexible. What red-blooded American male would turn down a date with a swimsuit model? Then he’d met her in a café in Monte Carlo and he’d immediately known he’d gotten her all wrong.
Jodie wasn’t just a swimsuit model. She was a famous model, a minor celebrity. And she wasn’t just a regular model. She was a plus-size model. Size fourteen to sixteen, she’d told him over a generous meal of pasta, salad and dessert. She had to eat heartily to maintain her size because she was so active, participating in a variety of sports.
Definitely not the usual dainty, blond and predictable type of woman he preferred to date. His friend Hank McCauley would also add “airhead” to the description, but Travis thought that was an exaggeration. So what if his girlfriends didn’t have strong career directions or advanced degrees? He liked women whose jobs didn’t interfere with his somewhat erratic work and vacation schedule. He wanted to be able to call someone at the spur of the moment and say, “Let’s go to Tahiti.”
“All right,” she sighed. “Let’s sit down and talk this through. Maybe I could use a cup of tea.”
“Coming right up. Make yourself comfortable in front of the fire,” he said, carefully taking her arm and steering her toward the center of the large house. “I’ll be right back.”
He gratefully retreated to the kitchen to prepare mugs of Earl Grey, placing them with honey, sugar and artificial sweetener on a tray. He wasn’t sure what pregnant women were supposed to drink. About all he knew about pregnancy was that it took nine months and sometimes involved unpleasant morning sickness.
Had Jodie been ill? Is that why she’d paled at his sarcastic comment? He was a heel for upsetting her, but dammit, he sure hadn’t been expecting an announcement that she was carrying his child.
He grabbed a couple of spoons and felt a sudden urge to hurry back into the den. One part of him dreaded the upcoming conversation, but another wanted to know every little detail. How she’d learned of the pregnancy. What she was feeling. What were her plans for the baby…and how did they include him?
Marriage? He definitely didn’t plan to get married again. Marriage involved messy emotions that led to botched expectations, then disappointments, and finally, crying and yelling. But still, she was pregnant…
“Here you go,” he said as cheerfully as possible, placing the tray on his large tufted ottoman. “I hope you like Earl Grey.”
“One of my favorites,” she said, pushing her shoulder-length blond hair behind her ear. His eyes settled on her neck and he remembered, with a flush of heat, how sensitive she was in that particular spot, just below her ear. He’d felt an enormous sense of possession when he’d kissed her there, hard, as he’d moved inside her.
Shaking away the memory, he straightened and tugged on the hem of his old U.T. sweatshirt. Jodie was sitting in one of the big carved wood and upholstered chairs near the fireplace. He took the other one, then grabbed a mug of tea, searching for a safe way to begin this conversation.
“So, have you been in California?”
