His for One Night

by Sarah M. Anderson

  “Proud of you, Brooke,” he said, his satisfied smile almost enough to make her forget they were being watched by thousands.

  “Jimbo, I bet there’s more to this story—I hope we’ll be able to get a word with Flash after the show?” Larry asked.

  “Boy, me too,” Jimbo agreed. “But first, he’s got to make the time on this bronco!” Thankfully, they turned the conversation back to the horse’s stats.

  “Have a good ride,” she told him, digging deep for that smile.

  With a nod, he turned and climbed down into the chute onto the bronco’s back. Brooke edged away from the chute so Pete could help Flash get his ropes adjusted.

  “Damn near perfect,” Alex muttered behind Brooke.

  She nodded but didn’t look away from Flash. The gate opened and his horse spun out, bucking high into the air while Flash held on for dear life.

  “That’s Daddy, sweetie,” she murmured to Bean, shifting the baby so he could watch. “Look at him go!”

  Seconds ticked by slowly as Flash clung to the horse’s back. The buzzer sounded just as Flash lost his fight with gravity and he went tumbling to the dirt. Brooke gasped and held her breath, but Flash popped right back up again, pumping his fist into the air.

  “Looks like it’s Flash’s lucky night,” Jimbo said. “That ride’s going to earn him first in the rankings!”

  Brooke cheered along with the crowd. She’d almost made it. Now she just had to wait for Flash to get back to the chute, and then he’d escort her backstage, where he’d hand her off to Chloe, who’d take her back to the family’s suite for the rest of the rodeo.

  “Well, well, well—this explains everything, doesn’t it?” a silky voice said, cutting through the crowd noise and the announcers.

  Brooke spun just as Alex snarled, “Hey, back off.”

  The cowboy staring at Brooke wasn’t wearing a vest or a rider’s number, but he looked vaguely familiar. Had she met him before? Or just seen his picture somewhere?

  “Easy, honey,” the cowboy said to Alex, which made the big woman growl. “I’m an...old friend of Flash’s.” He gave Brooke the once-over, and a burst of apprehension shot down her back.

  “Explains what?” she asked, looking around for Pete or Chloe or anyone. She did not like the look in this guy’s eyes.

  “He was screwing you the entire time. How about that?” The cowboy laughed but when Alex went to shove him back, he spun gracefully past her, and suddenly only a foot separated Brooke from him.

  Oh, hell. She couldn’t back up because there was no room and she couldn’t get to the stairs without getting past him. “Leave us alone,” she ordered.

  “Hey!” Flash shouted from the arena floor. How close was he? Where was Pete? Why couldn’t Alex catch this guy? “Tex, back off! Pete! Alex! Get him away from her!”

  “You know your little boy toy beat the ever-loving shit out of me?” the cowboy apparently named Tex all but purred. Another hush fell over the arena, but Brooke could feel the difference between this one and the way the crowd had quieted at the reveal of the baby and the ring. “Broke my jaw and my leg, all because I hoped you’d be a good fuck. He ended my career, all for a little piece like you!”

  Behind Tex, Alex lunged but the man had catlike reflexes, apparently, because he easily danced out of her way—which only brought him closer to Brooke.

  “I had nothing to do with that,” she told him, curling around Bean. That’s why she recognized him—his picture had been in the articles about Flash’s arrest and trial. Had the fight been about her? Because this creep made some creepy comments?

  Someone in the crowd shrieked. “Larry, what’s Tex McGraw doing here?” Jimbo asked.

  “He quit the All-Stars, didn’t he?” Larry responded, sounding worried. “After that fight with Flash?”

  “The bastard took away everything I love,” Tex said, charging forward, his hand clamping around her arm with so much force that it took her breath away. “It’s time I returned the favor.”

  Brooke tried to yell, but her throat wasn’t working as Tex twisted her arm hard enough that she saw stars. The baby! She spun, trying to keep hold of Bean, who began to scream bloody murder.

  “Brooke!” A body slammed into Tex—oh, thank God, it was Flash.

  Brooke stumbled before Tex’s grip on her arm gave, and then Flash and Tex crashed off the top of the chute, landing in the dirt with a thud. Flash came up swinging.

  “Jesus,” Alex said, grabbing Brooke and hustling her down the stairs. “Is Bean okay?”

  Brooke stumbled to a stop, staring in horror as Flash threw a punch and then another one. His fists were a blur. “You touch her again and I’ll end you,” he roared as blood flew off his knuckles.

  “Move, Bonner,” Alex bellowed, shoving Brooke past the fight and into the tunnel under the stands. “Move!”

  Brooke looked back over her shoulder as Alex pushed her away from the arena. Complete pandemonium had broken out—Pete and a bunch of cowboys were trying to get Flash off Tex, who was throwing a few punches of his own.

  The last thing Brooke saw before Alex dragged her through a pair of doors was Flash’s head snap back as Tex’s fist connected with his jaw and Flash turning a bloody grin on Tex, letting his fist fly.

  Brooke’s stomach turned and she began to run.

  God help her, that man was enjoying the fight.

  Seventeen

  “The good news,” Chloe said in the tone of voice that made it clear there wasn’t a whole lot to go around, “is that, despite your record and your history with Tex, the prosecutors are declining to press charges on assault for you. The whole fight was caught on camera. You were clearly defending your family. Oliver’s talking to them now.”

  That was the good news? Flash moved the ice off his face and squinted at Chloe. “The bad news?”

  Wincing at his black eyes, Chloe held her phone out for Flash to read. Which was a challenge. The words drifted before him like they were floating down a lazy river, but he managed to get one eye to focus.

  What he saw chilled him colder than any ice pack ever could. Brooke had sent a group text to Chloe, Oliver and Flash: Thank you for welcoming me and James into the Lawrence family. We will be in touch to set up a visitation schedule. No mention of Flash coming back to her house tonight, no mention of engagements—nothing.

  His vision narrowed to those few lines of text. He forgot how to count, how to breathe.

  We will be in touch.

  If it were possible for five words to break him, those five might just do the trick.

  She’d promised. Promised! They were in this together now! They were a team! She’d sworn she wouldn’t keep him from his son—not again!

  No. He refused to accept this.

  He had to make this right. He struggled up, which made the room spin. “I need to go,” he said, except his jaw wasn’t moving right—again. If people could stop breaking the damn thing, that’d be great. He couldn’t talk to Brooke with a broken jaw and he definitely couldn’t ride.

  “No,” Pete said, putting a firm hand on Flash’s shoulder, “you don’t. You show up looking like someone flattened your face with a steamroller and it’ll only scare her more.”

  “Worse than the cushion incident in the library,” Chloe agreed, picking up the ice and putting it back on Flash’s face.

  He tried to bat it away because, yeah, he probably looked horrifying, but he couldn’t let Brooke hide behind that cold text. “Tomorrow, then,” he managed to get out.

  “Shit, man—is your jaw busted again?” Pete said, crouching before Flash and studying his face.

  “You should see the other guy,” Flash tried to say but that was way too much talking. Crap.

  “Buddy, you’re done for the season,” Pete said. “Chloe, we’ve got to get him to a hospital.”

 
“On it,” she said, and sighed.

  His championship season...gone. Just like that.

  But the moment self-pity tried to crowd into his head, it was pushed aside by the look of terror on Brooke’s face when Tex had grabbed her. In that moment, she’d been more important than anything else—his jaw, the rodeo...none of it mattered. What had mattered was making sure she was okay and Bean was safe.

  He couldn’t wait until tomorrow.

  He needed to see with his own eyes that she was fine, that the baby was okay, that Brooke understood he’d do anything to protect her.

  We will be in touch.

  He needed her to have some faith in him. Instead, she was pulling back, locking him out.

  He wasn’t going to stand for it.

  “I will knock your ass out if you try to stand up again,” Pete warned, shoving him back into the chair. “I’ve done it before and I’ll do it again.”

  The room spun. Flash might have blacked out, he wasn’t sure. Maybe Pete really had tagged him. The next thing he knew, he was being loaded into the back of an ambulance and Oliver was next to him, looking as worried as hell.

  “It’s going to be okay,” Oliver said, his voice sounding strained.

  “Brooke,” Flash moaned. The ambulance began to move and the world got spinny again.

  “It’ll be okay,” Oliver repeated, holding on to Flash’s arm.

  As Flash slipped back into the darkness, he was pretty sure it wouldn’t be okay. Not until he could get to Brooke.

  * * *

  Thankfully, Bean was fine. Once Brooke settled in the rocker with the baby on her lap, he was out like a light.

  Brooke, however, was not fine.

  She had forgotten what fine felt like. Every one of her nightmares had played out in real time—Flash Lawrence, out of control.

  “You’re still shaking,” Alex said, sounding as close to crying as Brooke had ever heard her.

  “Am I?” Brooke laughed, a high-pitched noise that startled Bean. Brooke adjusted him to the other side. “Sorry.”

  “I sent that text you wanted,” Alex said, sitting down on the footstool.

  “What text?”

  The worry lines deepened on Alex’s face. She pulled out a phone—Brooke’s phone, she recognized it—and read the text. “You told me to send it when we got home, so I did.”

  “Then I must have wanted you to.” She didn’t remember telling Alex that, but who knew. She was pretty sure she was in a state of shock.

  She’d been nearly assaulted and then her fiancé had snapped, and none of that took into account the situation with her mother and Kyle or the press...

  It was safe to say she was not coping well. Nope.

  “Brooke? If he shows up, do you want to see him?”

  “I don’t...” She cleared her throat. A part of her wished that Flash would stroll into the nursery, a mug of hot tea with honey in his hand and a charming smile on his face. That he’d bring the music back with him and they’d write the ending to their song together.

  But how could she trust him? How could she trust that she’d make the right decision this time?

  Thank God she hadn’t married him.

  She held up her left hand, where his enormous ring was heavy on her finger. It hadn’t been real. That was a comfort, right? No one would blame her for breaking it off with him, not after what had happened tonight.

  “I don’t think so,” she said softly.

  “Are you sure that’s the right thing to do?” Alex asked, her voice gruff.

  “I thought you didn’t like him.”

  “I don’t. But Brooke, he was defending you. Because I missed.” Tears overflowed Alex’s eyes. Brooke stared in shock. Had Alex ever cried? “I wasn’t quick enough to catch that guy, but Flash was faster. If I’d done my job...” A sob racked her big body. “I’m so sorry I let you down. But don’t hold it against Flash. He was protecting you.”

  Was Alex right? After all, hadn’t Brooke been up there on that chute, praying he’d get to her in time? And he had. He had!

  Someone rang the damned doorbell and Bean startled, mewling in displeasure.

  “I’ll get it,” Alex growled, rubbing at her watery eyes.

  Sighing, Brooke began to pat the baby’s back. “If it’s Flash, I’m not home.” Maybe Alex was right, maybe she wasn’t. But Brooke wasn’t going to deal with any of that tonight. No way, no how.

  Being around Flash was too intoxicating. He made her forget things, like how Bean was her first priority and how she didn’t need someone who was good in bed—she could go whole years without sex. She had after she’d met him, hadn’t she? But the moment he got within ten feet of her, she craved him like a junkie craved a hit.

  That wasn’t healthy.

  Two sets of footsteps echoed on the stairs. Oh, no—Alex had decided to let Flash in after all, hadn’t she? “I told you, I didn’t want to see...”

  But it wasn’t Flash who followed Alex into the room—it was Kyle Morgan. Of course. Because Brooke didn’t have enough going on today.

  “What do you want?”

  Kyle had the decency to look embarrassed. “Caught the rodeo on TV tonight.”

  “So? What do you care?”

  Kyle blushed. “Didn’t know you’d had a baby. Sorry I missed that.”

  “Are you?” She knew she was being a total witch, but she couldn’t help it. Anyone who was expecting her to go along to get along was in for a hell of a surprise. “Are you my father?”

  Kyle dropped his gaze, scrubbing his hand through his short silver hair. “She finally told you, huh?”

  “I will never let you see your grandson ever again if you don’t cut the crap, Morgan. I’ve had a shitty evening and you’re not helping. You’ve been my friend for years and never once even hinted that you were my damned father, so spill it.”

  “Look, I got your mother pregnant. We had a couple of wild nights and...”

  Alex growled menacingly behind him.

  “And I didn’t want to be a father. I was too young and I’ll be honest—I was doing a lot of drugs. I wasn’t fit to be around a baby. Told your mother as much. Told her I wasn’t going to be a father to any child she had. She made the choice to keep you.”

  “Oh. Okay. So you really didn’t want me. Sure.”

  If this night got any worse, Brooke was going to lose her mind. She couldn’t take another shock.

  “Morgan, that’s the crappiest excuse I’ve ever heard,” Alex rumbled.

  “Yeah, I know,” he shot back, but he kept his attention on Brooke. “By the time you were a kid, I’d gotten clean and my songs started selling and you had so much talent...” He cleared his throat. “I’m not father material. Never was. But a mentor? I could do that. Your mother saw the same thing I did—you had what it took to be a star. And I could help make it happen.”

  Brooke let her head fall back against the chair. This man was her father. And in his screwed-up way, he’d done his part to look after her. It hadn’t been enough, but it’d been something.

  “Look, I may have messed up,” Kyle began.

  “You think?” Brooke shot back.

  “But I did the best I could. I didn’t have anything else to give, especially before I stopped using. It’s been the joy of my life, being a part of your music.” He stared at Bean. “Wish your mother had told me you were going to have a baby, though. Sorry I missed that,” he repeated.

  Brooke couldn’t look at him. She closed her eyes and her mind immediately turned to Flash. What would he do, if he were here? Would he throw Kyle out on his rear? Get into another fight? Or would he stand next to Brooke, holding her hand and ready to back her up, no matter what she decided?

  Kyle had had a fling with Crissy Bonner and left her high and dry. When he’d found out about Brooke, he’d cut and run.r />
  Flash hadn’t done that, though.

  Instead, he’d offered her and Bean the protection of his name and his family’s power and wealth. He’d done it in a crappy way at first, but one thing had been clear from the very moment he’d found out about Bean—he’d move heaven and earth to be a father to his son.

  Was that still true?

  “Why is my name Bonner?”

  “Morgan is a stage name.” She cracked open one eye to glare at him. “What? I had a lot of kids calling me Bonnie when I was growing up. I married your mother to give you a name and then we got a quiet, quick divorce.”

  Of all the damn things...insisting that he give her his real name but not anything else took the cake. “I am going to hate you for a while.” Which was a lie. She was going to hate him for as long as she damn well wanted. And she wasn’t going to think too kindly about Mom, either. The level of deception they’d sunk to was mind-boggling. And for what?

  She was so tired of lies wrapped in lies and buried under more lies.

  Kyle looked hurt but he nodded grimly. “That’s fine.” He stood to leave. “I’ve always cared about you, honey. That doesn’t mean I haven’t been the world’s worst father,” he said over the combined sounds of Brooke and Alex scoffing in unison, “but I still care. If you let me, I’ll care about that boy of yours, too.”

  “Don’t push your luck, Kyle.” Because she wasn’t calling him Dad. He definitely hadn’t earned that right.

  He nodded in resignation again and turned to go. “One last thing—that fiancé of yours?”

  “I don’t think we’re engaged anymore,” Brooke mumbled.

  “Yeah, I looked him up after the Bluebird. Those headlines must have pissed your mother off in a major way—too close to what happened to her and me, I think.”

  Brooke scowled at him again. “You got a point? I’ve had a long night and I want James to get some sleep.” She might not get any, but someone in this house should.

  “James. Good name. Fits him.” He leaned forward and Brooke let him brush a kiss against her forehead. “I walked away from you and your mother. It’s always been my biggest regret, that I threw away the love of my life and my family just because it got hard. Don’t make the same mistakes I did.”