Say Yes To The Cowboy

He rose. “What if that’s for the best? What’s wrong with getting married for the sake of the kid?”

“Everything. In eighteen years or so this baby will be ready to create a life of his own. What then? Will we stay married after he goes off to college or a job in another state? Will we stare at each other across the breakfast table and wonder what the heck we’ve done to ourselves for the sake of the kid?”

He glanced down at his boots. She noticed they had a light layer of dust on them, though they’d started the walk dust-free. When he looked up again, his gaze was bleak. “I hadn’t thought that far ahead.”

“But we have to.” She should have figured out what he was planning when he appeared this morning in clothes that looked almost new, recently polished boots and a clean-shaved jaw. Yet she’d never dreamed he’d do a complete one-eighty and propose after announcing in April that he’d never marry or have kids. He’d blindsided her because she didn’t know him at all.

“Okay, you make a good point about the marriage thing, but I still want to be part of my son’s life.”

“Why?” She gazed up at him.

“He’s my son.”

“Look, if you’re feeling an obligation because society has conditioned you that way, please try to adjust your thinking. Obligation and duty have no place in this scenario. I won’t have someone around this baby who resents him.”

“I didn’t say I resented him.”

“Maybe not yet. He isn’t even born. But kids take time away from other things you might want to do and they can be frustrating to deal with sometimes. Considering all you’ve said about protecting your independent lifestyle, why would you let yourself in for that?”

“Because I want to make sure he’ll be okay.”

“I promise you that he’ll be well taken care of.” And that was the crux of the situation. He didn’t trust her to do that. And why should he? He didn’t know her, either.

“Tess, I have a legal right to spend time with him.”

“I know you do.” She felt a stab of panic. “But don’t you see? If you’re forcing yourself to be a father, that’s horrible for a child. They know the difference between love and obligation. You can’t fake it, so why even go there?”

“Because he’s my son.”

She sighed. “We’re going around in circles. And this rock is getting warmer by the minute. Let’s go back.”

“But we haven’t settled anything.”

“I know that.” What a maddening man—a gorgeous, stubborn cowboy who still had the power to make her heart beat faster. She doubted he’d spent much time around children, while she’d made a career of it. Zeke had no idea what he would be getting into. Yet, somehow, when he’d dug in his heels and said “He’s my son,” it turned her on.

She had to watch out for those pesky feelings of lust, though. She’d read enough books on pregnancy to know the hormones coursing through her body could make her susceptible to a virile guy who kept giving her hot glances. He obviously wanted her and that was arousing, but surrendering to those urges would complicate an already dicey situation.

“Are you willing to stick around for another day or two until we come to some kind of agreement on how this will go?”

“I’m willing, but I don’t like imposing on your foster parents.”

“I seriously doubt they consider it imposing. Did Rosie give you the word that she loves being a grandma?”

“She did and I think it’s sweet. I’m sure she and Herb are terrific grandparents. I’ll be happy to keep them in the loop.”

His expression darkened. “But not me?”

“You said you didn’t want kids, Zeke!”

“That was before I found out you were pregnant. That changes everything.”

“It doesn’t have to. Just think of yourself as a sperm donor.”

“A sperm donor?” A dangerous light flashed in his hazel eyes. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but I remember making this baby the old-fashioned way.” He stepped closer, his chest heaving. “I distinctly recall having some very sweaty, very satisfying, sex with you, lady, complete with orgasms that made you cry my name so loud I was afraid someone would call hotel security. I was your lover, damn it. I never want to hear that term again.”

Heat scorched her body and she clenched her fists at her sides to keep from reaching for him. She swallowed. “Got it.”

“And another thing.” His voice softened. “Although you don’t want to marry me, your eyes tell me what you do want. Just so you know, that would be fine with me, but you’ll have to do the asking. Whatever happens or doesn’t is your choice.” He turned around and started down the trail.

She prayed her legs would carry her as she followed him. He’d snapped her self-control with that speech. If he hadn’t turned away, she probably would have launched herself at him and begged for more of that red-hot loving he’d so graphically described. But he had turned away and she’d pulled together the pieces of her shredded pride.

Somehow she’d managed to keep her mouth shut, but her body still yearned for his touch. She gazed with longing at his broad shoulders and the movement of his powerful back muscles. Yes, she was guilty of ogling, but she’d dare any woman with a pulse to ignore the way his jeans cupped his backside. She’d admired that view on the way up the trail and, after his impassioned words, she was even more mesmerized on the way down.

When they reached the truck Zeke handed her in with brisk efficiency. No significant glances or lingering touches. Apparently he’d meant what he’d said. Nothing would happen between them unless she initiated it. She vowed not to do that.

After he got behind the wheel, he opened the console and took out his phone. “I’ll call Rosie and make sure she’s okay with you staying a little longer.”

“All right. Tell her I’d be glad to check into a hotel in Sheridan, if she prefers.”

“Okay.” He nudged back his hat and put the phone to his ear. “Hi, Rosie. Tess needs to stay a few more days. She’s offered to check into a hotel in town.” He smiled. “I know. Yes, ma’am, she’s very considerate. I’ll tell her what you said.” He disconnected the call and returned the phone to the console. “You’re welcome to stay at the ranch for as long as you want.” He twisted the key in the ignition and the truck’s powerful engine roared to life.

“That’s nice of her.”

“Rosie’s great.” He checked for traffic and executed a quick U-turn. “Since I’m the one who set up this discussion, I’ll let you call the shots for the next one. Tell me when and where and I’ll make sure I’m available.”

His self-possession amazed her. She was a bundle of nerves. The combination of his sex appeal and his determination to be a part of the baby’s life had torpedoed her original plan. She’d have to create a new plan before she saw him again. “I need a little time. If you’ll give me your number I’ll text you.”

“There’s a pad of paper and a pen in the console.”

She found them lying inside the compartment. Underneath was a faded brochure advertising “The Ropin’ Ragin’ Raffertys!” She recognized Zeke, who looked about ten, wearing jeans and a shirt decorated in fringe and spangles. The man beside him in a matching outfit had to be his father.

She closed the console without asking about the brochure. She wished she hadn’t seen it. Learning about his past would only draw her deeper into his life and make it harder to extricate herself. She was going to raise her baby on her own. She still believed that would be best for everyone concerned.

Zeke rattled off his phone number. She scribbled it down, tore out the page and returned the pad and pen to the console without looking at the brochure. He’d probably forgotten it was in there. She doubted he was any more eager to share details of his past than she was to hear them.

A truck with a camper shell was parked in the circular gravel drive of the ranch house. Zeke stopped behind it and switched off the engine. “Drew’s here.”

“Another foster brother?”

He shook his head as he reached for the door handle. “She’s a videographer. Cade and Lexi hired her for the wedding.” He glanced over at her. “Hang on. I’ll help you down.”

Tess put a hand on his arm. “That’s not necessary.” The muscles in his forearm tensed and she removed her hand as if she’d touched a hot stove. “I can get out by myself.”

“I know you can.” He opened his door. “But that’s not how cowboys do things.”

Back in April his chivalry had been one of the reasons she’d invited him to her hotel room. She’d had a hunch that he’d know how to treat a woman, and wow, had she been right. Now she wished he’d stop because his manners reminded her of how considerate he could be when they were alone and naked.

But refusing to let him help her in and out of his truck would be petty and pointless. He wasn’t using the gallant gesture as an excuse to steal a kiss or a caress. His assistance was proper and impersonal. He didn’t even smile.