Hard-Riding Cowboy (Kinky Spurs #3)

by Stacey Kennedy

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.

  “This place could not get any cuter,” Harper said, entering the room.

  “I agree,” Emma said, following her in. “I mean, look at this nursery. All you’d have to do is move in. Heck, maybe you could even get the furniture included.”

  Megan nodded then moved to the window with the white curtains. She stared down at the backyard. On the patio was a grilling area with a stone bar and fireplace. But there was enough grass for a swing set. Maybe even a dog. “As beautiful as it is, this house is on the high end of my budget,” she admitted.

  “Can’t you ask your dad for help?” Harper asked. “I mean, isn’t he a gazillionaire?”

  “Not quite.” Megan laughed, turning around to sit on the windowsill. “Besides, he’s the rich one, not me.”

  Emma dropped into the rocking chair. “Still, if you asked . . . ?”

  “I’m sure he would help,” Megan said. “But that’s the last thing I want to do. I want my stuff to be mine, you know?”

  Harper gave a firm nod and a quick smile. “And that’s what makes you so friggin’ awesome.” She moved to the crib then leaned her back against the wooden bars. “What about Nash? You’ll live together eventually, right? Maybe he could help you.”

  Megan let out the loudest sigh of her life, feeling a thousand pounds pressing against her shoulders. “Right now, I’m trying to figure out how to make Nash and my dad get along, let alone move in to a place with Nash where my father would never go.”

  Harper looked on with pity. “I’m sorry you heard us talking about your dad in the hospital.”

  “Don’t be.” Megan’s throat tightened. She swallowed, pushing past the thick emotion. “I’m used to it.”

  “You shouldn’t be used to it,” Emma said softly. She paused, her eyes turning sad. “It’s just hard, you know, with the history of your dad and stuff.”

  “Yes, I know,” Megan agreed. “He’s been really awful to the Blackshaw family. But Nash doesn’t help that. And it doesn’t really change the fact that he’s my dad and he’s never been awful to me.”

  Maybe it was something in her voice or her expression, but both Emma and Harper moved closer. Emma leaned forward and placed a hand on Megan’s arm, the warmth of her touch easing the tightness lingering in Megan’s chest.

  “We’re here for you, babe,” Emma said. “Whatever you need from us. Whatever we can do to help you, we’ve got your back, and you know that Shep and Chase are there for you too.”

  Harper gave a firm nod. “Always.”

  “Thanks.” Megan smiled, knowing it probably looked sad.

  “Thoughts?” Jannie asked, entering the room, oblivious to the swell of sadness in the room. “Should I draw up an offer?”

  Megan nibbled her lip and pondered. She really did love this house and could see herself and the baby in it. “That’s the million-dollar question.”

  “Well, no,” Jannie stated firmly. “It’s a two-hundred-thousand-dollar question.”

  * * *

  Beneath the big shade tree next to the small creek that ran through Blackshaw land, Nash sat in his cedar Adirondack chair in his backyard. The day was too nice to sit inside on the couch, and Gus had whined to get out. Nash had spent the past ten minutes throwing a tennis ball to Gus to get some of his steam out, and enjoying the sunny day. The dog caught the ball then ran back along the grass until he reached Nash, tossing the tennis ball up to land in Nash’s lap. “Good boy,” Nash said.

  Being careful not to turn his body, he threw the ball as far as he could, keeping his injured arm still on the armrest. Gus beelined for the ball, doing what Labradors do best. The burn on Nash’s shoulder was an annoying pain until the area was cleaned. That job had been left to his mother, who had come this morning and would return every night to rebandage him up. Which was why his shoulder felt raw and achy.

  “Aren’t you supposed to be resting?”

  Gus spun around and ran turned toward the voice. Nash glanced over his shoulder finding Shep standing behind him with his arms crossed over his black T-shirt that read BLACKSHAW SURVIVAL. A black blur beelined to Gus announcing Houdini’s arrival. And next to Shep, Chase wore a white T-shirt with BLACKSHAW CONSTRUCTION on his chest. Nash didn’t like the mood that seeing their logos put him in. Of course, he was happy for and proud of his brothers. Damn, they were good at what they did. Shep had government contracts to train soldiers to survive in the wilderness. Chase was currently building a multimillion-dollar log resort out in Colorado Springs. But sometimes, their successes only reminded Nash of his failures. Which maybe got to him more today because his damn shoulder kept him at home.

  Staying busy turned his head off.

  “I am resting,” he finally answered, turning back as Gus tossed the ball into his hand. He threw the ball again, and Gus went running, and so did Houdini. Gus got to the ball first, but then he dropped the ball for the puppy, who began chewing the ball.

  Chase laughed then dropped down next to Nash, handing him a cold beer. “Megan would kill you if she saw you giving me beer,” Nash told his brother. “Apparently meds and beer don’t mix.”

  “Good thing she’s not here, then.” Chase lifted his bottle.

  Nash clinked his to Chase’s, then chuckled. “Brave when she’s not here. Tightlipped when she is. You’re such a pussy.”

  Chase snorted, and after he lowered his beer from his mouth, he said, “It’s not about bravery. It’s about survival.”

  Nash laughed against the rim of his bottle. “Wimp.” He took a long sip, relishing the crisp, clean taste of Foxy Diva. Some beers were too hoppy. Others too bitter. Some even too sweet. Not Foxy Diva. The Three Chicks Brewery pale ale was sheer perfection. “How’s the farm?” Nash asked no one in particular.

  Shep took a seat on the grass, one elbow resting on his knee. “Beckett and Hayes have taken over the guest ranch. They’ve got things handled.”

  “Good.” One less thing to worry about. “Any word on the fire?”

  Chase leaned his back against the thick tree trunk. “The fire marshal and crew are out there today sifting through the rubble. He won’t tell us a damn thing. Said we need to wait for the final report.”

  Nash took another long sip of his beer, still feeling like shit for Megan hearing him talking about her father at the hospital. And yet . . . and yet, his instincts leaned in that direction. Careful not to mention names, he asked, “Any word from the cops if they agree the fire was purposely set?”

  “It’s all speculation at this point,” Shep said with a slight shrug.

  Nash already knew the fire was no accident. But he also believed his brothers needed evidence. And Nash had learned now to keep his mouth shut. “How long will the investigation take?”

  Chase drew in a long breath then said in a deep voice, “We’ll gather all the evidence and data then come up with a hypothesis. After that, we challenge the hypothesis until we believe without a doubt that we have the right answer.”

  Nash laughed. “I take it that’s the fire marshal speaking?”

  Chase nodded. “Which basically means anywhere from a few days to a number of months.”

  “Let’s hope it’s the former,” Nash said, then took a big gulp of beer.

  Gus returned with the ball then and tossed it onto Nash’s lap. Houdini was still near the creek. Nash threw it near him, and Houdini jumped in the creek. Gus charged into the water, grabbing the ball first, nudging the puppy out of the water.

  Nash smiled. His dog was going to be good with the baby. There wasn’t a doubt in his mind.

  “Once we have the information we need,” said Shep, breaking the silence, “we’ll move ahead.”

  Yeah, like knocking Harrison’s teeth out.

  As if Chase had read Nash’s mind, he aske
d, “What about Megan in all this?”

  Nash finished off three more big sips. That was where everything got complicated. “She stays out of it. There’s no reason she needs to be involved. It’s business. What I have with her isn’t.”

  Shep and Chase exchanged a long look before Shep rose and cupped Nash’s uninjured shoulder. “For your sake, I hope it’s that simple.”

  No one said much after that. Nash knew why. The situation was complex, and everyone was aware of that. But Nash could keep Megan out of this. He had no doubt.

  When they finished their beers, Shep and Chase left with Houdini, returning to their jobs. Nash kept playing ball with Gus until the dog plopped down next to him, finally exhausted. Just so happened that beer and the drugs he had taken that morning were the perfect cocktail to make Nash tired too.

  He shut his eyes, wanting to rest them. But when he opened them again, he had no clue how much time had passed until he also realized he wasn’t alone.

  Megan offered him a glass of a water and two pills. “Why are you out here?”

  He accepted both and tossed the pills back before handing her the glass. He considered if maybe Chase was right, and he should keep his trap shut for survival purposes. He quickly decided against it. There was enough he wasn’t telling Megan. What he could, he would. “Chase and Shep came over for a beer.”

  She laughed. “Is that your brothers’ way of checking in on you?”

  “Yup.” He smiled then gestured to his lap. “Come here, Freckles.”

  She carefully slid onto his lap. “That is honestly the sweetest thing I think I’ve ever seen.”

  He followed her gaze off to the right, realizing that she’d brought the kittens home at some point. They were all curled up with Gus, sleeping between his paws and his face. “I’ve never seen him so attached before,” he told her.

  Megan nodded, staring down at them. “He does seem to be madly and deeply in love.”

  Nash leaned his head back, trying to fight against the slight pain the move caused. “What time is it?”

  “Three o’clock.”

  “You’ve been gone a while. We’re you out causing all types of trouble?”

  She laughed. “Oh, yes, if you consider going with the girls to look at a house I’m thinking about buying ‘trouble.’”

  That surprised him. “You’re moving?”

  She gave him a knowing look. “My apartment isn’t really baby-friendly.”

  He hesitated, absorbing all this. He’d thought she’d move in with him. But that was his arrogance talking. “Did you like the place?”

  “Loved it, actually,” she said. “It’s not far from the Spurs, so it’s got a great location.” She paused then gave a little shrug. “I’m working out the finances and stuff, but I think it’s doable.”

  He slid his good hand along her arm. He liked this tank top she wore. The thin straps gave him so much access to her smooth skin. “How much do you need from me?”

  She frowned. “Need from you?”

  “Yeah, for the house . . . how much money do you need from me?”

  “Nothing,” she said, way too fast.

  At that, he raised his brows. “You need nothing?”

  She fumbled a little then recovered quick. “Well, no, I mean, of course, I’ll need something down the road. But not like a monthly thing, just diapers maybe. Daily stuff to help me get by.”

  He cocked his head, studying her. Hard. He didn’t like what she’d said. She sounded like a single mother.

  Before he could speak up to figure out where her head was at, fierce mewls cut through the silence.

  “Oh, you sweet babies, it must be feeding time,” Megan cooed. “Can you grab the black one?” she asked, reaching for the gray-and-white kittens. Without another word to him, she headed toward the house, with Gus following her, wagging his tail.

  Nash remained rooted to the spot. For as long as he could remember, he had loved Megan’s independence. Christ, that was what had snagged him originally. She was strong and fierce, and she had a good head on her shoulders. But now she seemed to be planning her life around him, not with him. Maybe he deserved that.

  His jaw began working as he scooped up the last black kitten, who screeched at him. He lifted the kitten up to his face, a plan suddenly taking shape in his mind. “Listen, squirt, it’s me and you in this now. We gotta show her that I can raise you without fucking up, okay?”

  The kitten ravenously screeched again.

  He took that as a yes.

  Chapter 11

  The following two weeks were a total blur. Megan was either at work or at Nash’s house. The burn on his shoulder had mostly healed now. He had some scarring that would never go away and discoloration that would likely fade as more time passed. Or at least that’s what the doctor had said. Besides that, whenever Nash napped and rested, she’d filled her time training Gus. Steak had been a crucial tool. The dog ignored her with every other type of treat, meat, or bone. While training had gone at a turtle’s pace, Gus would finally sit and lie down on command. Seeing that he didn’t listen much to anyone, she’d begun to research the “stop” command or something like it, hoping to control that unruly side a bit. That skill was infinitely harder to master. But she hadn’t lost hope yet.

  The best part of all was that Nash hadn’t mentioned her father—good or bad—since that night in the hospital. And things between them . . . well, things had grown hotter and sweeter, shifting to this new place where she went to bed wrapped in his arms and woke up to his hard body against hers.

  Things were great. Real great, actually. Which was why after breakfast, she and Nash were pulling up to her parents’ house.

  After Nash parked the truck next to his mother’s car, Megan followed him out. Beneath his solid front, she saw his jaw working, a telling sign that he suspected telling their families about the baby was going to suck. She pressed her hand to her belly, feeling more protective than ever about the little one growing inside her. Soon, she would start showing. Eleven weeks pregnant now, she already had a little belly. She couldn’t hide the baby for much longer.

  While Nash strode around the hood of his truck, Megan glanced at Jenny’s car. All the decisions they had made over the last few days leading up to this moment suddenly didn’t make sense anymore. Doubts took over, flushing her skin hot. “Maybe we shouldn’t do this today.”

  The ever-so-confident Nash squeezed her hand tight and tugged her forward. “No backing out now.” He took her hand and climbed the porch steps, and she followed him up. Once on the landing, he turned to her. “Besides, it’s better to get this over with. Like a Band-Aid: rip it off fast, then we can clean up the mess.”

  “Please let’s not have blood,” she begged.

  He chuckled. “We’ll be fine, Freckles.”

  She bit her lip, not having the same sense of calmness about all this. Because while this seemed fine now, she knew that in a few minutes everything would not be fine at all.

  History always repeated itself. And Nash and her father were going to be in the same room together.

  She must have looked worried because suddenly the warmth of Nash’s arms surrounded her. All the things she worried about melted away when he pressed himself tight against her, and the side of his mouth curved. “Breathe, Megan.”

  She slowly let out a breath, not realizing she’d been holding it, and then took a couple more, some of her tension fading.

  He watched her carefully then nodded firmly. “Better.” He cupped her face. “We’re gonna be all right.”

  Like this. Close to him. She believed him. “Okay, let’s do this.”

  He gave his easy grin. The one he gave to everyone, a grin that was strong and unwavering.

  Figuring delaying any longer was only punishing herself, she entered the house and they made it into the living room. First, she noted her dad standing by the window, staring out at the fields. Which was always the position he stood in when trouble settled over the family. He
r mom sat on the couch, drinking tea. Jenny sat on the dark brown chair, dressed in her Sunday best, looking ready for a game of bridge with the ladies.

  Nash’s mom noticed them first. She glanced from Megan to Nash then to their held hands. “You’re getting married?” she exclaimed.

  Megan sighed.

  Nash tightened his hand on hers.

  “Married?” her dad growled, spinning around with a glare that matched no other.

  Her mom grinned, her tea cup halfway to her mouth, and her eyes wide with surprise. “Is that it? You’re getting married?”

  She looked from her mom’s happy face to Jenny’s eager expression, then to her father’s scowl. Her throat had tightened, and all the words she planned to say suddenly couldn’t form. Confused, and winded, she looked up into Nash’s steady eyes.

  He gave her a soft smile then glanced at his mother. “Megan’s pregnant. We’re having a baby.”

  Three things happened simultaneously: Nash’s mom started clapping, rambling off a slew of happy words. Megan’s mom smiled. And her dad stomped his way over, his fists clenched at his sides.

  Nash tucked Megan behind him, as if he needed to protect her from her father. Both her dad and Nash had egos the size of Colorado and enough testosterone to fill the state three times over, and tension pulsed through the air. Knowing exactly what was going to happen, Megan stepped to the side, waiting for the bomb to hit.

  And boy, did it hit.

  Dad inhaled sharply, then his voice boomed in the living room. “A Blackshaw. A goddamn Blackshaw, Megan.” A vein protruded out from the middle of his forehead, arms promptly folded over his chest. “Explain yourself. Now.”

  She took Nash’s hand, trying to show a solid front. “I—”

  “She doesn’t need to explain anything,” Nash interjected slowly, dangerously.

  Dad’s eyes narrowed to slits. “Who says?”

  “The father of her child says.” Nash puffed out his chest. “She’s mine now, Harrison. Deal with it.”

  The protruding vein on each of their foreheads looked a second away from popping, and Megan sighed again. She moved to her mother, who was putting her tea glass down on the table. She had her typical “stay quiet and let’s see how this plays out” thing going on. Megan watched the two men staring each other down, knowing just like that, this was no longer about her or the baby. It was about them.