Now that he saw what her heart wanted, he wanted to give her that and so much more. His pride and loyalty to his family suddenly meant nothing while seeing those things were exactly the reason that she hurt.
Maybe she sensed his tension because she suddenly opened her eyes, catching him watching her. “Hi,” she said softly.
He frowned, knowing it likely looked weak. “That was not very nice of you.”
“Yes, it was,” she said with a soft laugh. “You needed to sleep, and you wouldn’t have ever pressed that button.”
“I don’t take drugs,” he said.
She placed her hand beneath her cheek on his arm. “Sometimes you need to let someone—or something—help you.”
After the accident, he hated the way the drugs made him foggy. And he loathed having to get help.
Nash stared into Megan’s eyes that were puffy from her obvious crying when he’d been sleeping. Fuck, he did that to her. “I’m sorry.” The words left his mouth in a rush.
Her eyes widened. Then she blinked twice. “I think that might be the first time I’ve ever heard you apologize.”
“Because I don’t apologize for much that I do.” He sat up in bed, making her rise with him. A rush of pain made him dizzy for a moment, but then he focused on the need to touch her. Using his good hand, he cupped her face. “I know what I said about your father hurt you, and for that I am sorry.”
Her shoulders lifted with her heavy exhale. “It’s hard, you know. I get why you hate my dad so much. He was horrible to your family. He still is really horrible to you whenever you two talk. Really awful. That cutthroat business side of my father is not something I’ve ever been proud of, and I’ve told him that. But to me . . .”
Nash’s throat began to tighten. She hid nothing from him now. For the first time, he saw what the feud was doing to her emotionally. “He’s your daddy,” Nash finished for her.
She nodded, her chin quivering. “That’s what makes this all so hard. I don’t know how to fix this between you.”
Nash regarded her, finally understanding that this longtime fight between the families was continuing to take an extreme toll one her. The one person who shouldn’t be involved at all. He caressed the softness of her cheek. “It’s not your job to fix anything, Megan.”
“Then whose job is it?” Her eyes pleaded at him for an answer. “I’m the one responsible for this little one.” She placed her hands on her belly. “I need to somehow find a way to make the two most important dads in my life get along before he or she gets here.”
Megan paused, the kind of loaded heavy pause telling him he wasn’t going to like what she said next, and he didn’t.
“Yelling, screaming, name calling,” she added, “it’s not the life I want our child around. I don’t want our sweet baby to face the same struggles that I did.”
Nash felt a lot of things, many emotions even he didn’t understand. Though the only thing that mattered now was Megan. Not their land. Not his pride. Nothing. Only her. And his child. Because now he saw he was a part of the reason her heart was breaking. “I’ll make this right with your father,” he told her.
She side-eyed him. “Seriously? Just like that?”
Seeing everything with new eyes, he confirmed, “Yeah, just like that.” He watched her expression fill with disbelief, so he set her straight. “You’ve never shared any of this with me before. Yes, I got that you didn’t understand the feud between our families. But I didn’t know how much this hurt you. You’ve never shown that to me. I didn’t know”—he hesitated, and he cupped her face, amazed how she leaned into him—“I never saw what you’ve been trying to show me since you told me about the baby. I won’t hurt you, Megan. That is the last thing I want.”
“But you hate my dad.”
Nash leaned forward and brushed his lips across hers. “I care about you more.”
She dropped her mouth against his then, moving in a perfect sensual rhythm, making him hard. He tasted the tears on her cheeks when she pulled away the blankets between them, then she lifted his hospital gown. He groaned when she straddled him, now aware she wasn’t wearing her jeans, only her panties. His eyes shut as her warm sex pressed against his erection, and she rocked her hips back and forth.
“Megan.” He nibbled on her neck in all the places he knew made her squirm. When he reached her chin, he lifted his hand to tilt her head and pain nearly blinded him. He dropped his head back on the pillow and inhaled sharply. “Bad idea.”
She rocked her hips again, soothing away the pain with pleasure, and removed her tank top and bra. Then she leveled him with a playful grin. “Move that hand again and I’ll tie it down.”
Nash stared at her intently. The hard peaks of her nipples. The deep way she breathed. There was a time to take control, and there was a time to give it away. He remembered when his physical therapist did little things to give Nash control in his life after the accident. He also recalled how incredible that felt. Maybe Megan would like that.
Regardless of the pain he knew he’d endure, he lifted his arm and hissed.
“Oh, is that so?” she practically purred.
“Yeah, Freckles, that’s so.” He dropped his head back to the pillow, breathing through the pain. “Whatcha going to do about it?”
Using her tank top, she took his wrist and tied his uninjured arm to the hospital bed where he supposed they restrained people if necessary. Without missing a beat, she restrained his other arm with her bra. Tight.
When her gaze met his again, he hardly recognized his own deep voice. “Cowboy up, Freckles.”
Keeping her eyes on him, she removed her panties then rested her hands on his chest and took him in one long, slow movement. He groaned against her warm wetness, his eyes rolling into the back of his head. He slid his hands around the hospital bed, holding on to the thin posts, not wanting to pull against her bindings. This was the most erotic thing he had ever let a woman do to him, and he never wanted her to stop.
The most beautiful woman he’d ever seen, she moved slowly, grinding her hips, letting him see all of her. Her back was arched, her hard nipples angled up, awaiting his mouth. The tease became all consuming. Now he realized why he always did the tying up. This was sheer torture. The way her creamy flesh looked with the moonlight cascading across her face and gorgeous body. The way her hair curtained her face. Even how her lips were parted with her sweet, quiet moans. Taking what she wanted, and how she wanted it, she rode him with a fluid rock of her hips, every single thrust making him harder and her wetter.
He tightened his good hand on the bed railing and restrained his moan, so as not to draw the nurse’s attention, while Megan began moving faster and faster, back and forth. Her breasts bounced, but Nash couldn’t look away from her face, not when she was claiming her pleasure. Especially since she stared right at him. Boldly. Sensually.
Though, soon, those unique stunning eyes were gone as she arched her back and her breath hitched. She shuddered once then breathlessly came atop him. Her inner walls convulsed against his shaft with each and every throaty moan she gave.
Every man had a limit.
Nash’s had been hit.
Desperate to fill her with nothing but unleashed raw euphoria that he knew he could give her, he yanked his hand out from the tank top, grabbed the back of her neck, pressing her chest against his, and pumped his hips up into her until her hitching moans sounded by his ear.
Her inner muscles contracted again, his shaft drenched in her arousal. He gripped her neck tight, holding her close, keeping her right where he wanted. He moved hard and fast, getting her higher, needing to take her there again. Because he fucking needed her. He wanted her happy, only feeling good. Nothing else would work for him anymore.
With a wild shudder, followed by several quiet moans and his frantic thrusts, she broke apart above him. He joined her, grunting his pleasure deep inside her, releasing all that he had to give. His strength faltered, the day, the injury, the emotion, leaving his
eyes closed and his muscles heavy.
Sometime later, she said, “That is not how that’s supposed to go.” She leaned up and rested her hands on either side of his head on the pillow. “When someone ties you up, you are supposed to stay tied up.”
“Not when I make the rules.” He had yet to look at her. The pain from his shoulder suddenly blinded him.
With quick, gentle fingers, she untied his bound wrist and removed the tank top from the bed, then dressed before climbing under the blankets with him, setting his hospital gown back into place.
Nash let go of the bed railing, and blistering pain dragged a grunt from his throat.
“You’re in pain.”
Not a question, a statement.
“Totally worth it.” He finally managed to open his eyes and reached for the morphine button. “Besides, I have this glorious shit.”
She gave him a cute look. “I thought you didn’t do drugs.”
“It was either drugs or no sex.” He scooted back down the bed, getting comfortable against the pillow, biting back the curse words on the tip of his tongue from the seething agony burning his shoulder. “Tell me what I want to hear, Freckles.”
She snuggled into him. He wondered if she’d refuse him. He nearly filled the long silence. Until she planted her mouth by his ear and laughed softly. “I really, really like you, Nash Blackshaw.” Then she kissed his cheek.
“Ah, and there it is.” He held her close and clicked the morphine button, taking those final words into his dreams.
Chapter 10
The next morning, Megan drove Nash home from the hospital. They picked up Gus from Shep and Emma’s on the way since they’d watched him last night. After that, Megan got Nash settled onto the couch to rest, with Gus lying on the floor next to him. She topped Nash up with pain meds before she left to get started on her day. The kittens were still at her mom’s, but Megan intended to grab them soon.
With a thousand things racing through her mind, she arrived home twenty minutes later and looked around the apartment she’d renovated when she bought Kinky Spurs with the inheritance her grandmother left her. Megan loved this space, a mix of new with the original stone wall behind her television stand. Cedar beams separated the living room and the tiny kitchen with bright white cabinets and a quartz countertop. Though, standing in the her living room, she couldn’t ignore the worries that had come to light the second she heard Nash say, “Clint Harrison. If anyone is behind this, you know it’s him. My gut is telling me he still wants our land. I’m sure of it. This stinks of that dirty sonuvabitch.”
She almost believed Nash that this would be all okay. And maybe it would be. Eventually. But not now. Not even close to now. It occurred to Megan that she couldn’t exist like he did. Living minute by minute, not having a plan. It wasn’t only her now. And an apartment atop a bar was no place to raise a baby. Sure, Kinky Spurs was all Megan’s, and would stay hers, but the little one growing inside her belly needed what Megan had had: A backyard to play in. A proper kitchen table, not stools at the kitchen island. Most of all, the baby needed a nursery. A safe place to call home.
She grabbed herself a glass of lemonade then sat at the kitchen island with her laptop. Still missing the hell out of her morning coffee, she scanned through the available properties in River Rock on the town’s only real estate agency website, River Rock Real Estate. The market in River Rock had never been overly hot. Most properties listed for sale took a while to sell. Except for those in the country or near the mountains. Everyone was looking for the view, and most people looking in those areas came in with cash offers.
She continued to sip her cold drink and scroll through the properties, when one property immediately caught her eye. As did the fact that the real estate agent was Jannie, a woman Megan knew from high school.
After a quick snack to keep the nausea at bay and phone calls to Jannie, Harper, and Emma to meet her at the property, Megan arrived at the two-story white house. The home was within walking distance of Kinky Spurs, a definite added bonus, especially considering the daycare was close by too. Even though Megan was pretty sure her mom would want to watch the baby. Maybe even Jenny would too.
On the wraparound front porch with the single black door and a gold knocker, Jannie waited, along with Harper and Emma. “Hi,” Megan said, hurrying to reach them.
“So great to see you again, Megan,” Jannie said, offering her hand.
Megan returned the handshake with a smile. Jeez, Jannie hadn’t changed. At all. She’d been a cheerleader in high school. She was still shiny and perfect with a short brown bob and flawless makeup.
Jannie turned toward the door and typed a code into the lockbox. “I was surprised to get your call. Are you thinking about selling the bar?”
“Not the bar,” Megan explained, giving Harper and Emma a quick wink. They smiled back. “But I am considering renting my apartment, if you know of anyone who’s looking.” She’d need the income from the rental to help pay the mortgage on the house, considering she was already mortgaged up to her eyeballs on the bar. But she finagled some numbers after she got off the phone with Jannie, and the house was doable. Tight, but possible. Well, as long as the bank was good with a ten grand down payment, since that was all Megan could afford to pull out of her savings.
Jannie pulled out the key. “I’ll spread the word around, for sure.” She smiled at Megan. “I don’t think you’ll have any trouble renting the place out. You’re right downtown. We’ll find a twentysomething who will be all over moving into your place.”
“Great.” Megan returned the smile then gave Harper a knowing look. Harper grinned right back. Of course, Jannie would spread the word. She had been a gossip back in high school. Maybe that was what made her such a good real estate agent now. She loved being in people’s business.
“Ready for a look?” Jannie asked.
“Yes!” said Emma, all but bouncing on her heels. “I’m dying to see the inside. The outside of this place is . . . wow.”
Even Megan wondered how this house was still on the market. Everything was perfect. Almost too perfect.
Jannie opened the door. “If you don’t mind me asking, what brought all this on?” She let them enter first then shut the door behind her. “It’s a pretty big house just for you.”
Oh, yeah, Jannie was digging, but Megan wouldn’t spill this secret yet. She hadn’t even told her parents or Jenny about the baby. She’d had weeks to come to terms with her pregnancy. She figured she’d give Nash a little more time too. She plastered on her most innocent smile. “I’ve been wanting more space for a while now.”
Harper nodded. “It’s all our fault, really. We’ve been trying to get Megan out of that apartment for years.”
“And look at this place,” Emma said. “It’s beautiful.”
“Sometimes bigger is better, and this place really is gorgeous,” Jannie said. Albeit, the suspicious glint in her eyes told Megan she suspected more was going on. Luckily, she turned away, getting into her sales pitch. “You’ll find this house has new windows and a new furnace.” She handed out brochures of the property. “There’s also a recently added sunroom and a new roof.”
The house had a gorgeous white staircase with dark wooden stairs all leading to white wainscoting then to soft green painted walls. There was a living room to the right with a white fireplace and a gray-painted kitchen at the back with white cabinets. From the rug lining the hallway to the modern tables and furniture in the living room and foyer, the place looked move-in ready.
“The house has gone through a full renovation,” Jannie explained, dropping her business card on the small front table. “The owner is a flipper. He put a good fifty grand into the property.”
Which explained the perfection of the house. It was too perfect because no one lived there. The house had obviously been staged.
“His work is incredible,” said Emma, entering the living room. “The attention to detail is outstanding.”
“Totally ama
zing,” Harper called from the kitchen.
Megan chuckled. Of course Harper, being the chef, would go there first. Megan was still kinda stuck on the staircase. She could picture a little one running down those stairs on Christmas morning. Curious about a certain room in particular, she began climbing the stairs, holding onto the thick railing.
“If you ask me, he’s the best builder in River Rock,” Jannie said from downstairs.
“Well, I don’t know about that,” Harper called from the kitchen in obvious defense of Chase. He owned Blackshaw Construction and built custom log homes and resort properties.
And yeah, he was the best.
Megan smiled to herself and headed down the hallway. On the left was a tiny bedroom fitted with a twin-sized bed and dresser that would make for a perfect home office. She went to the right where she passed the only bathroom in the house, fitted with a brand-new clawfoot bathtub and an all-glass shower. Nice. She kept on, finding in the main bedroom what she would expect in a historic Victorian home like this—a small space with a single door closet. The queen-size bed just fit, along with a small dresser. But there was a center rosette on the ceiling around the small crystal chandelier. She could definitely make that room work.
When she finally reached the last door, her breath caught in her throat. The room was painted a delicate yellow, almost as if the flipper knew she’d come looking for this house. Megan entered and ran her hands across the white crib set next to the rocking chair, emotion clawing at her throat.
Reality seemed to be hitting hard lately. She hadn’t ever considered children before because serious relationships hadn’t been her thing. She knew why. She’d been too caught up with Nash. No one else compared to him. Nash had always felt like the endgame, but she had also known he needed time to get his shit right. Especially when it came to her father.
Now the thought of getting married seemed even further away. There was a very good chance that once the baby news hit their families, the bomb would drop, and she would end up caught in the crossfire. Her throat began to tighten, and her heart began to race.
Hard-Riding Cowboy Page 11