“Would you like to hold him?” Janie asked.

“Yes, please.”

Kyle released her hand. “I’ll be back. I’m just gonna go check on that one thing.”

The door shut.

Janie looked at Celia with surprise. “Was it something I said?”

Celia had no idea what Kyle was up to. “No. I think he’s paranoid that if I hold a baby I’ll want one of my own. Not that cajoling him into getting what I want has ever worked for me in the past.”

“But add sex to the cajoling and he’ll probably do damn near anything for you, won’t he?”

“The jury’s still out on that. Now hand that baby over.”

Janie lifted him and Celia tucked him against her body. “The kid does like to be very close to br**sts.”

“He’ll be disappointed in mine.” Celia pressed a kiss to his forehead and inhaled the sweet baby scent. “So, Janie, you really ready for motherhood?”

“Yes. I’ve been watching Lainie and Brianna for the last year, so I’m not as shocked by it as I might’ve otherwise been. Labor was a bitch though. Holy shit. I wanted to brain Abe when he said, Just breathe through it. How about you try to breathe through a busted nose and a broken jaw, buddy.”

Celia laughed.

“It is amazing to watch Abe with Tyler, though. He’s just so…stunned by him.”

“He’s perfect. I’m thrilled for you guys.”

“I know you are, sweetie.” Janie drained a glass of water. “So you and Kyle?”

“Yep.”

“Typical Lawson response,” she muttered. “How did it happen?”

“Kyle and I had been dancing around each other for the last year.”

“You and Kyle have been dancing around each other for much longer than that, but go on.”

Celia didn’t comment on that observation. “After Devin’s concert in Vegas, we just looked at each other and knew. So we stopped dancing.” She answered Janie’s questions about Kyle’s inheritance and was relieved when her nosy sister-in-law didn’t press for more details on her supposed love match with Kyle. To ward off further inquiries, she talked about shopping at Harper’s store and the girls’ night out with Harper, Tierney, and the Mud Lilies.

“Sounds like a good time. I fear my girls’-night-out days are a thing of the past.”

“I doubt Garnet and Maybelle would let you get away with ditching them.” She patted Tyler’s little butt when he made a mewling noise. “When will you go back to work at the Split Rock?”

“I’m taking a couple months off. Two at least. Maybe three. Then we’ll be in the busy season at the resort. Renner can’t run the place without me.” Janie smirked. “Plus I love my job. Lainie is happy with Brianna’s day-care place, so I’ve already reserved a spot for Tyler.”

“That’ll be handy.”

“I imagine when you and Kyle have kids you’ll be a full-time at-home mom, like your mom was?”

Celia’s mother had been a sweet, hardworking rancher’s wife. She remembered that’s how she’d always referred to herself—Rose Lawson, mother and rancher’s wife. She glanced at Tyler’s face. “I guess we’ll see. It’s a long ways down the road for us.”

“Be nice if you had your kids soon though, so they’d be the same age as their cousins.”

“Janie!”

She laughed. “I’m kidding. Anyway, you did get an invite to the baby shower Tierney’s throwing, right?”

“Yes.”

Her eyes narrowed. “You have to come. You and Kyle. Even if you’re both still pissed off at Abe. Promise me.”

“You want Kyle to come? Aren’t baby showers mostly for women?”

“Oh, pooh. That’s old-fashioned. These days they’re coed.”

Celia imagined the look of horror on Kyle’s face if he was forced to play baby shower games. She grinned. “I promise we’ll both be there.”

Kyle approached the information desk. “Excuse me, where would I find the home health care office?”

“Down that hallway and last office on the left.”

As he headed that direction, he figured this was a wasted trip. Medical records were confidential. Probably this woman wouldn’t remember Marshall Townsend. Or worse, maybe he’d been the same crotchety ass**le to her that he’d been to everyone else.

An attractive brunette manned the desk. Her head-to-toe inspection reminded him of the buckle bunnies following the rodeo circuit, contemplating the size of his package behind his belt buckle. “May I help you?”

“I’m here to see Karen McNamara.”

“She’s on a call right now. Can I give her your name?”

“Kyle Gilchrist. I just have one quick question for her.”

“Well, Kyle,” she cooed, “could you be a little more specific on your needs? Are you here for”—her gaze swept across his chest and over his arms—“recommendations for sports injury rehab clinics? I’ll bet you’re some kind of athlete.”

He withheld a snort. That lame pickup line would’ve worked on him at one time. Before he’d stopped fighting his attraction to his best friend’s little sister and just accepted the fact he had it bad for the cowgirl and no other woman would do. He smiled at the receptionist. “I’m not an athlete, just a rancher. My wife’s sister-in-law suggested I ask about a claim for my ailing father.”