Frisco Joe's Fiancee Read Free Page B

you know it’s hers?” Fannin said patiently.
    “Because she was the only one who had a child that young with her.” And the picture of her kissing the baby’s head was still fresh in his mind. “I know it’s hers.”
    “Dang.” Bandera threw his cards onto the round den table. “I’m certain she didn’t know it was yourbed, Frisco. No woman would give your surly butt her sweet, fragile angel.”
    His brothers laughed heartily. The instant fear, which had sent Frisco running down the stairs, began to turn to bad humor. “Where is she?” he demanded of Last.
    “How would I know?” the youngest Jefferson shot back. “I thought she was getting in your truck.”
    “My truck? Oh, no, she definitely was not getting into my truck,” Frisco insisted. He would have noticed that for certain. “I told you we couldn’t keep her, Last. You go find her, and take her and her baby back. Now. ”
    Last stood up, angry. “I don’t know where she is.”
    Tex sighed. “Maybe she’s not here.”
    “What?” Frisco stared at him. “Why do you say that?”
    “I’m just saying maybe we’d better search the three houses and have a look for her,” Tex said evenly. “And hope she’s not far from her baby.”
    “I’m not,” a woman said quietly, as she stepped into the den from the hallway.
    The entire roomful of men rose, half for the sake of good manners and half because she’d startled them.
    “I’m sorry to be the cause of so much trouble,” she said, her voice soft and gentle, almost shy. “Iwas changing Emmeline’s diaper when everyone left.”
    Frisco’s mouth had dropped open when she walked into the room, holding a baby bottle. Up close, she was even more adorable. He loved worn blue jeans on a woman; he loved blond hair that hung straight to a woman’s chin. He loved sleepy eyes that stared right at him. There was some silent communication going on between them; there was something she was trying to tell him—
    Her gaze averted from his, and Ranger coughed. “You might want to go throw on a pair of jeans, Frisco.”
     
    A NNABELLE T URNBERRY knew what a man looked like without his clothes on, of course, or she wouldn’t have two-month-old Emmie. She’d just never seen a man like the one the other men called Frisco—the boxers only hid enough to keep her from being totally mortified.
    And fascinated. She almost couldn’t stop staring until his brother reminded him he was sans jeans.
    This was a household of men, and it seemed to be a normal routine to move about the house wearing whatever. She frowned. Her ex-fiancé had taken his clothes off in the dark the one time he took her to bed; she wasn’t sure she knew what he looked like. The fact that she’d just seen more of a strangerthan she’d ever seen of her ex-fiancé wasn’t comforting.
    Frisco shot up the stairs, muttering an apology. He looked just as good from the backside, she thought, taking a fast peek only because…because—
    Well, there was no good justification for it. No excuse. It almost seemed wrong to look at another man, especially since she’d recently given birth, but it wasn’t as if she’d been looking out of lust, more out of admiration. After all, if a man who looked like Adonis took off running suddenly, wouldn’t any woman have to look?
    She dropped her gaze, thinking that she was in a houseful of Adonises, and maybe therefore in a precarious position. They didn’t know her; she didn’t know them. Maybe she was guilty of breaking and entering or something else that concerned the law.
    “It’s okay,” one of the men said, standing up to come over to her. “Next time you see Frisco, he’ll be fully dressed.”
    “Oh. Well. I’m so sorry for the—”
    “Don’t worry about it.”
    The man smiled at her, his gaze full of compassion. Annabelle was relieved because she hadn’t known what to say first, or even what she was going to say. There were so many things to apologize for!
    “You’re tired. Why