Texas Baby (Harlequin Super Romance #1441) [NOOK Book]

Overview

Clayton Creek ranch was the scene of a Texas-sized engagement party--until a gate-crasher stunned everyone with the news she was pregnant with Chase Clayton IV's child. The "father-to-be" was the most astonished of all, since he'd never laid eyes on lovely Josie Whitford, much less taken her to bed.

But he didn't have the heart to blame Josie for ruining the party or embarrassing his fiancée--not after he realized she'd been tricked by a callous impostor. Now, working with Josie...

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Texas Baby (Harlequin Super Romance #1441)

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Overview

Clayton Creek ranch was the scene of a Texas-sized engagement party--until a gate-crasher stunned everyone with the news she was pregnant with Chase Clayton IV's child. The "father-to-be" was the most astonished of all, since he'd never laid eyes on lovely Josie Whitford, much less taken her to bed.

But he didn't have the heart to blame Josie for ruining the party or embarrassing his fiancée--not after he realized she'd been tricked by a callous impostor. Now, working with Josie to track down the man using his name, Chase tries to ignore a new and even more shocking suspicion: Was he about to marry the wrong woman?

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Product Details

  • ISBN-13: 9781426805967
  • Publisher: Harlequin Enterprises
  • Publication date: 12/1/2008
  • Series: Harlequin Super Romance Series , #1441
  • Sold by: Barnes & Noble
  • Format: eBook
  • Pages: 288
  • Sales rank: 145,411
  • File size: 186 KB

Meet the Author

Kathleen wrote her first book in the first grade. It was a shameless derivative story about Dick and Jane, and was at least seven pages long. Her mother loved it. Her first grade teacher, Sister Anna Mary, loved it. But it would be almost three decades before Kathleen attempted another novel. In the meantime, though, she never stopped writing. She wrote some awful poetry in high school, working through the typical hormonal overreaction to having her heart broken by "the wrong boy." After college, she took a newspaper job, and she eventually worked her way up to the position of television critic before throwing it all over to follow her heart, and her husband, a fellow journalist, to make a home in Miami. When her first child was born, and her life began to consist of cleaning up after small creatures who didn't understand indoor plumbing, she decided she had to go back to writing. But she couldn't bear to leave her amazing little girl, so she turned once again to novels. And because she was a born sentimentalist, and a great believer in romance, she decided to try to write for Harlequin. Today, Kathleen still lives in Florida, still is married to the same extraordinary man, and has two children she adores. Her daughter is a university senior, a musical, magical beauty who has become her best friend. Her son is a witty, wonderful member of the tennis team and a handsome devil whose smile breaks hearts at school, warms hearts at home. Kathleen is a true Cancer, valuing home and friends above everything. She still counts as her most important people her sister, her best friend from childhood, her special buddy from high school, and the friends she has made through theyears,among other writers. She has a cockatiel named Lizzie, who terrorizes the other small birds in her office/aviary. She loves flowers, colored cut glass, Mozart, and Elvis. She is addicted to The X-Files, Dorothy Dunnett novels, and sugarfree Popsicles.

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Read an Excerpt

It was one of those mornings.
No, Josie Whitford corrected herself as she poured another round of coffee into Mr. Benetta's cup, smiling even though she had a hammering headache, that was a laughable understatement.
It was one of those years. The ones in which you just couldn't catch a break, couldn't get ahead, couldn't even run fast enough to stay in place. Ones where you felt yourself stumbling, slipping backward, as if life were a treadmill set on the highest speed, programmed to cycle out the weak.
Of course, the morning itself was lousy, too. Raindrops as fat as marbles, true Texas raindrops, bounced off the oily pavement, and the windows of the Not Guilty Café had turned gray and runny. They reminded Josie of the last plate she'd carried to the kitchen, prune juice splashed into the remnants of over-easy eggs. For a minute, just remembering, she thought she might get sick.
Oh, God, she wasn't finally catching that flu, was she? She'd managed to avoid it all winter, but lately she'd been so run-down, so damn tired. The splat of gravy on her apron, courtesy of the kid at table two, sent up a wave of odor, and the banana she'd had for breakfast rose in her throat.
No. She clamped her jaw. Not on the customer. That would be the perfect excuse to fire her, the one Ed had been waiting for.
She pivoted away from Mr. Benetta, breathing through her mouth to avoid the smell of bacon grease wafting from the grill. The Not Guilty Café didn't use the best cuts of anything, but it had the benefit of a great location. Tucked into the shadow of Riverfork City Hall and courthouse for the past fifty years, the café hadbecome a tradition for the local politicians, businessmen and lawyers.
For a minute, she just stood there, the coffeepot hot against her hand, the banana roiling in her stomach. She looked around, panicked, but oddly paralyzed. On a day like this, when the rain made a good excuse for arriving late to work, the customers lingered, and the café was jammed. Where could she throw up without having to pay someone's dry cleaning bill?
Nowhere. She felt sweat break out on her forehead even as a chill passed across her back, from shoulder to shoulder. She set down the coffeepot, which suddenly felt as heavy as an anchor.
Oh, how she wanted to go home. She longed for a nap, for the soothing warmth of the expensive sheets Chase had bought her that day in the Galleria. Sometimes, when she snuggled down into the five-hundred-thread cocoon, she could imagine that Chase, with his hot hands and his

That she wasn't completely alone.
But she was alone. And unless she intended to sell those sheets to pay next semester's tuition, she'd better stay put, chills or no chills. She needed every penny she could make today. And then some.
"Hey, gal, come out of that trance. Is your blood sugar low? Table six is getting cranky. And you know Ed's watching."
Josie snapped to attention, anxiety taking precedence over nausea. She tossed Marlene, her favorite coworker, a grateful grimace, then glanced toward the front register, where Ed stood, giving her the evil eye.
The bastard. If she was exhausted, it was his fault. He'd been working her double shifts for weeks, seating all the most demanding customers in her section, riding her like a devil. No one could keep that pace, and he knew it. He would torment her as long as he could, for the sheer fun of it, and then he'd fire her.
"Don't let him get to you, hon." Marlene leaned in, her shoulder warm against Josie's, her voice a raspy whisper. "You know he's just cranky 'cause he can't get into your pants."
Josie nodded, though that wasn't exactly true. Ed was angry, all right. But he wasn't upset just because Josie always told him no. What made him positively rabid was that she'd told Chase Clayton yes.
Fat lot of good that had done her. At least if she'd slept with Ed she might have gotten a raise and some decent shifts. Sleeping with Chase Clayton hadn't left her with anything but a bruised heart, a cynical attitude toward romantic dreams and a C on her English lit exam—her first C in four long years at the community college.
And, of course, a set of supersoft sheets. Maybe her blood sugar was low. She felt tearful suddenly, just at the thought of Chase, which was really dumb. He'd been gone for two months now, twice as long as the fairy tale had lasted in the first place.
She dug in her pocket for a glucose tablet and popped it surreptitiously into her mouth. Ed saw, of course, though he probably thought it was gum, or an aspirin. Marlene was the only one who knew about her diabetes and the shots she'd taken every day since she was a kid.
Frowning, Ed called her name out in a booming voice. He always talked like a radio announcer, probably to compensate for being shaped like a stick of spaghetti. And maybe other shortcomings, as well. There must be a reason the waitresses secretly called him "pinkie."
"Josie!" He made a circular "hurry up" motion with his hand. He pointed toward the waiting area, a ten-square-foot nook where some of the biggest deals in Riverfork politics were forged by big, redfaced men with soft drawls, Stetson hats and lizard-skin boots.
It wasn't Josie's turn to straighten the area, and, just as Marlene warned her, the dad at table six was tapping his menu and shooting her dirty looks, but she knew better than to argue with Ed.
Still, there might be trouble, and she didn't have the energy to cope with it today. The dad looked like an Alpha male and would undoubtedly complain about her slow service. Ed obviously expected that—wanted it, even. He had a stack of write-ups on her now, and when he got tired of torturing her, he'd stuff them down her throat.
She should quit.
But even that took more energy than she had today.
As she gathered old, crumpled paper coffee cups, dirty stir sticks and torn straw wrappers, she felt Ed's gaze crawl across her back like bugs.
She took shallow breaths, trying not to smell the old, spilled coffee. Though her hands shook, she moved aside the mints and the rumpled newspaper sections, which felt clammy, absorbing the stormy air. Putting those back together would take forever, but she might as well get started.
Ed was a fool to keep the customers waiting, just to play this power trip on her. Someday one of them would complain to the owners, and he'd learn that managers could lose their jobs, too.
That ought to please her, but somehow it didn't. She couldn't really feel anything but this pulsing nausea. She ought to start stumping for a new job. She ought to sue him for sexual harassment.
But the very idea of any of those things felt like climbing a jagged, frozen mountain. She couldn't even summon up enough indignation to hate him right now.
What on earth was wrong with her? She wondered if her insulin dose might be out of whack after all. Surely this weary exhaustion wasn't completely emotional. Surely it wasn't all about Chase Clayton.
Coming home to find her fairy-tale lover vanished, her idyll smashed, had been painful, but not completely crushing. As beautiful as the fantasy had been, she'd always known it couldn't last. A rich, handsome rancher with 25,000 acres romancing a twenty-five-year-old waitress struggling to make her rent and finish community college?
Yeah, right. Everyone knew how that story ended.
So, though it had hurt, she'd fully expected to nurse her bruised heart and childish disappointment for a while, then dust herself off and get back to work.
But instead of feeling a little stronger every week, she'd actually been sinking, going deeper each day into this shadowy hole of lethargy. Last night she'd been so depressed she had even picked up the phone and begun calling her mother's house in Austin.
Luckily, she'd come to her senses before the last number was punched. Her hands had trembled as she put down the receiver, grateful for the near miss. Suppose her stepfather had answered? He'd warned her she couldn't make it on her own. She'd spent the past seven years proving him wrong, by God, and she wasn't going to give up now.
She picked up the sports section, the most pawed-over of the lot, naturally, and rearranged the pages. Then she added the front page, with its war news and bold black headlines predicting bird flu, rising murder rates and new taxes.
She closed her eyes, fighting back another wave of nausea.
It must be the flu. Maybe she'd better see the doctor next time Ed gave her a day off. If he ever did.
Finally she located the feature section, which had been folded inside out. The page on top was all weddings and engagements, row upon row of finger-sized pictures of beautiful young women who radiated confidence and optimism, as if they were lit by the shimmer of their engagement diamonds. As if they'd been sprinkled with the magic dust of True Love.
She squeezed the paper so hard it bent and softened in her damp fist. How lovely it would be to feel like that. Adored, pampered, beaming. Your whole life in front of you, and a loving partner to stand beside you, in sickness and in health.
To know that you would never be alone again. "I've transferred table six to Marlene," Ed said, his swollen voice suddenly right behind her shoulder. "They were ready to get up and leave. For God's sake, I had no idea cleaning up over here would take you so long."
Yes, you did, she wanted to cry out. But vomit closed off her throat, and a deep heaviness flowed into her veins, as if she'd been injected with mud. She didn't even look at him. She kept her eyes on the happy women, the healthy, happy women standing on the threshold of paradise.
Aleshia Phillips to marry Timothy Braxton. Sandra Culter to marry Arthur Brun. Susannah Everly to marry Chase Clayton. What?
Her heart stopped. She tried to take in air, but her throat wasn't working, either.
Susannah Everly to marry Chase Clayton.
No.
Chase Clayton. Josie felt her head bobbing, as if her heart beat She saw her own brown bangs, which needed cutting. They looked dull and lank as they trembled across her vision. She tried to think, but none of the gears in her brain seemed willing to turn.
She held out one hand toward Ed. "I," she began, strangling the word. "I—"
He had no pity, as usual. He looked annoyed by her incoherence. He shifted, and his cologne filled the air. "Jeez, Josie, get a grip."
And then, finally, she lost the battle, all the battles. With her pride, with her heart, her exhaustion, and even, to Ed's dismay, her roiling stomach.
"I—" She tried one more time.
And then she threw up all over his lizard-skin boots.
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Customer Reviews

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Sort by: Showing 1 – 8 of 6 Customer Reviews
  • Posted December 9, 2008

    more from this reviewer

    A good romance

    College student and waitress Josie Whitfield is elated to learn she is pregnant as she thinks she loves her boyfriend Chase Clayton IV. However, when she goes to inform him, she is stunned as he left without a word. Outraged, she heads to his vast Clayton Creek ranch to confront him. Josie crashes Chase¿s engagement party that includes enough guests to fill up Texas University¿s football stadium.--------------------- Even more stunning is she finds this Clayton is not her Clayton. He agrees to help her find the scoundrel even though she destroyed the gala and embarrassed his fiancée Susannah Everly. As they travel together, the real Clayton and Josie are falling in love, but his engagement to his neighbor requires he do the honorable thing by her so she can control her family ranch.------------------- The real Clayton is too nice a guy to be real as his sacrifices are beyond noble for instance he is willing to marry to help his neighbor and goes on the quest to help Josie find the scoundrel pretending to be him. Still in spite of this perfect paragon, TEXAS BABY is a fun contemporary romance as the modern day chivalrous knight in shining armor and the damsel in distress make a fine couple while his engagement to Susannah adds complications to the lead couple¿s changing relationship.--------------- Harriet Klausner

    1 out of 1 people found this review helpful.

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