“At least,” Laney said.
“Men suck!” I said the words with a fair amount of feeling.
Little Mac whimpered. Laney rocked him with that age-old rhythm women who aren’t me seem to instinctively understand. “Honey,” she said, glancing at Solberg, “could you run out to the car and get—”
“Absolutely. Coming right up. Be right back,” he wheezed, and shot out the door.
I raised my brows at his hasty exodus.
She gave a minimalistic shrug. “I gave him the miracle of Mac,” she explained.
“So he has to act like a rabbit on speed?”
“So he has to spend the rest of his life trying to repay me.”
“Holy…moly,” I said, voice fizzling. Not swearing was almost worse than men.
“Are you okay, Mac?” she asked.
I inhaled, filling my lungs with the feeling of stability and home and friends of varying species. Harlequin gave Shikoku’s left ear a tentative lap with his velvety tongue.
“It’s been kind of a bad month,” I admitted.
She shook her head. “You’re the toughest person I know.”
I thought about that for a moment, then, “I am a pretty kick-ass chick.”
“And the best,” she added.
“Still kind of high on the mommy hormones, aren’t you?”
She laughed, watched my eyes for a second longer to make certain I wasn’t going to implode, then lowered her loving attention to the baby in her arms.
I stepped up close, sharing in the moment.
“Isn’t he beautiful, Mac?”
Wesley Mac Butterfield Solberg squinted up at me from a face that looked alarmingly like a constipated Shar-Pei’s. I winced and tried to lie, but as practiced as I was, I couldn’t pull it off. Not with Laney. “No, honey, he’s not,” I said. “He’s really not.”
“Are you sure?” She glanced up, surprised and oddly unoffended.
“He doesn’t even have hair,” I said.
“And he’s…” I gazed into his wizened little face. “He’s kind of blotchy.”
She kissed his cheek.
“In fact…” I tilted my head, searching for the human in him. “He looks kind of like Solberg.”
“He does, doesn’t he?” she said, and sighed happily.
“Only smaller and wrinklier.”
She smiled, glowing like Madonna on an estrogen high. “Yeah, but you still want one, don’t you?”
“Y—” I began, then snapped my gaze to her face, fear folding over confusion in my battered system. “What? No! Are you kidding? Can you imagine me with a—” I huffed a breath. “I have the maternal instincts of a…McMullen.”
“You want one,” she said.
“No, I don’t. Of course, I don’t, and even if I did, who would father…” I flapped a hand toward the door through which Danshov and Rivera had exited. “I mean, okay, they’re mildly attractive, and Hiro’s pretty cerebral in that hotter-than-hell, Zen…” I was beginning to sweat like a mule. “But Rivera…” I remembered the thrum of his heartbeat as he cradled me against his rock-hard chest in the backseat of Tony’s car. Remembered a dozen wild instances when he had come charging to my rescue in the nick of time.
My gaze met Laney’s. The universe stood still to the count of ten.
“Holy…macaroni,” I breathed, and felt the truth strike me like a bullet to the brainpan. “What am I going to do?”
“That’s the question, isn’t it?” she said, and laughed as if all was right with the world.
Discover More by Lois Greiman
Chrissy McMullen Mysteries
Not One Clue
One Hot Mess
Unmanned
Unscrewed
Unplugged
Unzipped
Uncorked
European Historical Romance
Highland Wolf
Highland Flame
Highland Jewel
Highland Hawk
The Fraser Bride
The MacGowan Betrothal
The Highland Rogues: Warrior Bride
Highland Enchantment
Highland Scoundrel
The Lady and the Knight
Women's Fiction
Finally Home
Home Fries
American Historical Romance
Surrender my Heart
The Gambler
My Desperado
Contemporary Romantic Comedy
Counterfeit Cowgirl
His Bodyguard
Paranormal Romance
Charming the Devil
Seduced by Your Spell
Under Your Spell
Bewitching the Highlander
Tempting the Wolf
Taming the Barbarian
About the Author
Lois Greiman was born on a cattle ranch in central North Dakota where she learned to ride and spit with the best of them. After graduating from high school, she moved to Minnesota to train and show Arabian horses. But eventually she fell in love, became an aerobics instructor and gave birth to three of her best friends.
She sold her first novel in 1992 and has published more than thirty titles since then, including romantic comedy, historical romance, children’s stories, and her fun-loving Christina McMullen mysteries. A two-time Rita finalist, she has won such prestigious honors as Romantic Times Storyteller Of The Year, MFW’s Rising Star, RT’s Love and Laughter, the Toby Bromberg for most humorous mystery, and the LaVyrle Spencer Award. Her heroes have received K.I.S.S. recognition numerous times and her books have been seen regularly among the industry's Top Picks!
With more than two million books printed worldwide, Ms. Greiman currently lives on the Minnesota tundra with her family, some of whom are human. In her spare time she likes to ride some of her more hirsute companions in high speed events such as barrel racing and long distance endurance rides.
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Blog with Lois at ridingwiththetopdown.blogspot.com
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