Montana Cowboy Daddy (Wyatt Brothers of Montana Book 3)

by Jane Porter

  She glanced at him over her shoulder and her gaze met his, his intense blue gaze smoldering, filled with unspoken desire. “No Cheez-Its?” she murmured, hot and shivery at the same time.

  “No.”

  His voice was deep and hard, his jaw equally hard, his mouth firm, uncompromising. She couldn’t even imagine being his woman. Couldn’t imagine the heat or passion. She’d had sex before, but it wasn’t with anyone like Billy. But honestly, was there anyone like Billy? Tough, competitive, smart, grounded, funny—so funny.

  She’d never been so attracted to anyone physically before, not like this. Billy made her want and need. He made her want everything and that was so new, and so shocking, she still hadn’t been able to wrap her head around it. The desire. The desire for him.

  But the desire came with emotions, and unlike simple lust, she didn’t want to just sleep with him. She wanted the whole package… all of him. His heart along with his body, but he didn’t do relationships. He didn’t invest in women for the long haul. If they went to bed together, that was all it would be—sex. A carnal itch that might be briefly satisfied but would ultimately leave her feeling worse. Feeling emptier, more alone.

  More broken.

  She couldn’t handle that.

  What she needed was someone who’d want her for love, but also life. Someone who’d want to be with her when she wasn’t young and she didn’t have a small waist and firm butt. She wanted someone who’d love her with wrinkles and gray hair. Someone who’d make her laugh just because he enjoyed making her laugh.

  “Goldfish?” she said, eyes hot and stinging. Heart filling her throat.

  “Do we have any?” he asked.

  “No.”

  The corner of his mouth lifted, and his eyes burned into hers. “Good try.”

  “Thank you.”

  “I think you know what I want,” he said after a moment.

  She did, too. She wanted the same thing. As his gaze held hers, she could feel the leashed desire, the hunger contained. She knew he wanted her. His energy was potent. Powerful. His interest made her feel almost beautiful, and that was something as she’d never felt beautiful, not even when people paid her compliments. It was hard to feel beautiful when you knew you were deeply flawed, when you weren’t sure you were whole enough to be truly loved. She’d grown up all too aware of her fears and foibles; the insecurities that made her feel shame.

  But somehow, when she was with Billy, close to him, she didn’t feel shame. She didn’t feel broken. She felt alive and fierce. Hopeful. But all it would take was one misstep and then the beautiful desire, and the lovely sense of wanting, and being wanted, would end.

  “I don’t want to be one of your girls,” she said, grateful she could sound calm, relaxed, when she felt anything but.

  “This is getting harder, not easier,” he said abruptly.

  She nodded.

  “What are we going to do about it?” he asked.

  She could see from his eyes what he wanted to do. Her pulse thudded, her heart felt as if it had tumbled to her feet. “What do you want to do?”

  “Maybe I should get on the road again. Join Tommy—”

  “You’re going to compete?”

  “Just travel with him. Keep him company.”

  Her eyes smarted. “And leave Beck here with me?”

  “Boom’s mom has offered to babysit regularly—”

  “So, you do mean to leave us behind.”

  “I know you have work to do, and it’s hard being locked down here. I’ve nothing to do. I’m just in your way.”

  Something in his tone made her chest tighten. He was creating boundaries. Distancing himself. Pushing her away again. “This your home. Maybe it’s time for me to go. You’re six weeks post-surgery. You can do almost everything—”

  “Beck will miss you.”

  Beck. But not Billy, not him. It was hard to swallow around the lump blocking her throat. “I love Beck. It will be hard to leave him, but I know he’s in good hands with you.”

  He didn’t immediately reply. “No one is telling you to leave.”

  “Thank goodness. That would be mortifying.” She struggled to smile, and held it there, as if it’d been slapped onto her face. “But I’ll always be in his life. If you let me.”

  “Of course I’ll let you. You’re his family.”

  His family, meaning Beck’s family. Never, ever Billy’s. The distinction was so clear, and so painful, but it was what she needed to hear. Billy wouldn’t love her. He’d never willingly choose her. “There’s something I should tell you. It will probably be a relief, but I’ve asked for, and have received, an extension on my dissertation.”

  “You won’t be graduating when you planned?”

  “I couldn’t get motivated, couldn’t get anything done. I’d just sit at my computer and stare at the screen and it made me feel worse about things, and life’s too short for that.”

  “You should have told me. I would have gotten help. I could have reached out to Ellen and asked if she’d be interested in coming over every day—”

  “I’m happy to have a break. I need it. Ever since February, I’ve been tied up in knots, feeling torn, feeling guilty, and I’m over it. I just want to feel good for a bit, I just want to feel okay.”

  “You were almost done, Erika. You were so close.”

  “Not close enough. And I’m not walking away forever, just pushing away from the desk for now.”

  “It feels like you’re quitting. Quitting is never okay.”

  “Says he that wants to get back on a bucking bull and break what’s left of his body.”

  He ignored the jab. “I feel like I let you down. I’d promised you’d be able to work—”

  “And you did give me time to work. I was the one who didn’t want to be alone in the bedroom. I wanted to be with you and Beck.”

  Billy looked at her a long moment, his disappointment evident. “You weren’t missing anything, sweetheart. Beck and I would have been here when you’re done.”

  “But that’s not true. Once you’re strong enough, you’ll be back on the rodeo circuit, back to Mr. VIP, everybody’s favorite cowboy.”

  “I’m no one’s favorite cowboy.”

  Her eyes smarted. She struggled to smile. “Not so,” she said huskily. “You’re mine.”

  He looked at her a long time before kissing her forehead, and walking out the door without a word.

  *

  Dinner was almost normal that night. Beck had just started on his first food—baby cereal, and they’d taken turns trying to feed him, laughing at the enthusiasm he applied to the bites. Beck loved food, just like his dad, Erika teased.

  Billy had wrinkled his nose. “Not that food,” he answered. “Steak, potatoes.”

  “Eggs,” she chimed in.

  “Eggs,” he agreed.

  After dinner, Billy had cleaned Beck up and had gone to put him to bed. Erika was doing the last of the dishes. It had been a nice evening, surprisingly fun. Things had been so serious between them for the past few weeks it was good to hear Billy laugh, to see his smiles. He had the best smile.

  Erika turned off the faucet, listening to the pinging noise coming from the living room. It was Billy’s phone. He was getting texts, one after the other. She stood at the sink trying to ignore it, but at the same time, unable to focus on anything else. Who would be blowing up his phone on a Saturday evening? He didn’t normally get a lot of texts, at least not that she’d heard, and it crossed her mind it could be one of his brothers, and then she worried that maybe something serious had happened. Maybe something to his mom, or grandfather?

  Drying her hands, she crossed to the living room and the side table next to his chair and glanced down at Billy’s phone. It was face up, revealing new messages. She could only see part of them but the texts were from two different women, Carrie, and a Michelle. It was the one from Carrie that kept pinging, the latest text reading, “OMG! So bleeping excited to see you for the Fourth!!
!” And then while she stood there, another new one arrived. “I wasn’t sure you’d be riding after your accident but happy I’m going to see you.” Followed by a bunch of emojis Erika didn’t want to see.

  Erika put the phone back down and returned to the kitchen. She reached for the skillet, intending to wash it next, but once her hands were submerged in hot water, she couldn’t do anything.

  He was going to be competing again. He was planning on returning to the circuit by the Fourth. Meaning, the Fourth of July?

  Her hands shook as she scrubbed the skillet and then rinsed it and set it on the counter. She was trying to stay calm but her temper flared. She didn’t know what upset her more. Saturday night texts from a Carrie and Michelle, or discovering that Billy planned to be competing again soon. The Fourth of July was less than two months away. And that was crazy. He couldn’t even use his left arm completely. How could he ride, rope, or worse, risk more injury? It was beyond stupid. It was insane. And she was livid.

  She’d known he would, but in her mind it had been in the fall, or maybe even next year. Not in a mere matter of weeks. How could he possibly think he could go back out there when he wasn’t 100 percent? And why did Carrie know this and not her?

  Why was he even texting with Carrie right now? And Michelle? And God knew who else?

  Erika was so angry she couldn’t even think straight. She gave up trying to dry the remaining dishes and stood in the kitchen, staring out the window over the sink, seeing the sliver of moon in the sky, feeling cheated. Betrayed.

  And yet, had he ever promised her more?

  They had no relationship. They had no bond. Just because they’d kissed didn’t mean there was anything serious between them.

  But still, it made her feel sick that she was fantasizing about a life with him while he was texting other women letting them know he couldn’t wait to be back on the road so he could see them.

  She swore under her breath, curse words she never used, even as she blinked back hot stinging tears, tears of shame and rage. How naïve had she been? How stupid was she?

  Her gaze fell on the highchair that needed wiping down, and she sniffled, holding back tears. What about Beck? How could Billy put himself in danger again so soon? It was selfish. Reckless. Beck deserved better. Beck deserved a father who was planning on sticking around, whole, intact, healthy. A father that would be available for Beck’s needs, not in hospitals, not in bed, not in casts or slings, not with a walker or wheelchair. Billy was the only one who could decide to be that father. He was the only one who could choose to do the right thing. And the right thing was for him to get well, stay well, and take care of his son.

  Billy emerged just then from Beck’s bedroom, wearing just a pair of gray flannel pajama pants. He was holding his shirt in his hand. She could see the scars from his recent surgery, the dark pink skin where he’d been patched back together, skin still tender and healing. He walked toward her with the shirt dangling from his hand. “I think I played a little too hard with him. He spewed some of his milk on me.”

  She just looked at him. Her expression must have told him she wasn’t happy because he stopped, gave her a long, wary look.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked.

  “What’s wrong? Maybe the fact that you’re planning on competing in less than six weeks. Maybe the fact that you’re planning on being up in Calgary for some stampede—”

  “How did you find out?”

  “Is it true then?”

  “That’s neither here nor there. Who told you?”

  Erika’s hands squeezed into fists. She pressed them against her rib cage. “Your phone kept buzzing and buzzing and I was worried something had happened to someone in your family.” Her voice faded, her shoulder shifting. “But it was only your girlfriends checking in, excited to be with you again. I shouldn’t be surprised. I knew who you were from the beginning—”

  “What does that mean?”

  “I think you know. You made it really clear in the beginning. You don’t stick around. Women are just for fun. You have a hookup in every town.”

  “I never said that.”

  “You didn’t have to. It was pretty easy to figure out. April, the blonde from Las Vegas. The brunette in Tucson. The redhead in San Antonio.”

  He widened his stance, feet planted shoulder width apart. “I don’t really see how my private life is any of your business.”

  Those were the wrong words. Absolutely the wrong thing for him to say. None of her business? What had she been doing here all spring?

  Fresh rage rolled through her, rage and indignation. “Obviously, I don’t matter here. I’m just one more female to make your life comfortable. I could be anyone. You could replace me like that.” She snapped her fingers. “I could be hired help, someone you booked from a domestic agency. All you have to do is contact one of those sitting services and I’d be replaced.”

  “I never asked you to give up your whole life for me. I never asked you to sacrifice everything. You volunteered. You said let me stay until you’re on your feet again. You said you wanted to be the one with Beck, you said—”

  “I know perfectly well what I said, but I had no idea that while I struggled to help you and Beck you were sending sexy texts to women, letting them know when you’d be back in town. The good time cowboy—”

  “Is that what you really think of me?”

  “Don’t act injured. This is your persona. It’s who you want to be, who you want everyone to see. Hit Billy Wyatt up for a good time.”

  “You’re not stuck here, Erika. Not trapped. If you’re so miserable, go. We don’t need you playing Nurse Nightingale. We can manage without you.”

  Again, the wrong words for him to say. His words felt like gasoline hitting a fire. She just exploded, something she never, ever did. “Wow, glad we got that squared away. Thanks for explaining a lot of things I was clueless about.”

  She left the kitchen and returned to her room, carefully closing the door behind her, not wanting to wake Beck.

  For a long minute, she just stood, back pressed to the door, hands pinned beneath her backside, trying to stop them from trembling. She was in over her head. Go, stay, it was all the same. No matter what she did now, it would crush her. Badly.

  Despite her best intentions, she’d become one of those women who held out hope that a man could change, or would change. She’d held out hope that Billy would fall in love with her, and want a life together, that those walls he’d put up around his heart would tumble down, and he’d realize that she was his other half, the one he’d been waiting for.

  And yet how many times had he told her he didn’t love? That he was the Wyatt who didn’t fall in love? She’d known all of this from day one, and yet she’d still secretly hoped.

  Prayed.

  Believed.

  She could see why she’d hoped and believed. It was easy being with Billy, so easy spending time with him. He was smart and sexy and incredibly loving with Beck. He was funny, kind, interesting. Just watching TV with him was entertaining. Going for a drive to Bryce had been the highlight of her stay. Lunch at that historic inn diner had been a treat. They’d wandered through the gift shop, showing each other this and that, as if they were a couple.

  There were so many times they felt like a couple, where he, Billy Wyatt, felt like her person.

  For the first time since she was seventeen she hadn’t felt alone. She had people who needed her, and people who cared for her, and this sense of belonging had made her feel… wonderful.

  So no, she couldn’t blame Billy for making her feel so much. There was no blame here. She’d wanted every minute with him she could have. It had actually been selfish on her part because she’d relished, cherished feeling good. She’d loved feeling happy. She hadn’t even known it was possible to feel this way, not with someone else, not in her own skin. These past few weeks she had just loved Billy and Beck, and she’d come to love herself.

  She loved herself for maybe the first
time ever.

  It had been a revelation to realize she didn’t need big things, she didn’t need multiple college degrees, didn’t need others to be impressed by her, either. What she needed was to feel like she belonged somewhere, and she had belonged here, even if briefly.

  The idea that she had to go now was beyond devastating. But obviously she couldn’t stay. Billy had made it clear that it was time for her to move on. Her heart went out to April and all the women Billy said goodbye to. She imagined him having the goodbye conversation countless times with countless women. It’s over, time to move on, it’s been fun but we have to get on with our lives, alone.

  Erika was awake most of the night, sleeping in just patches, opening her eyes every so often to look at her phone. When it was four fifteen she gave up trying to sleep, and turned on her light and packed. She tore a page from a notebook and wrote Billy a goodbye, asking him not to contact her, and to just let her go. When she was ready, she’d reach out about visits with Beck, but it might be months, might be next year. All she asked of him was to respect her need for a complete break at this time.

  *

  When Erika emerged from her room the next morning she was shocked to see Ellen in the kitchen.

  “What are you doing here?” Erika asked.

  Ellen faced her, expression neutral. “Billy texted last night and asked if I’d watch Beck today. He said you each had plans and he needed childcare.”

  Erika’s heart fell. If Billy had arranged childcare, he’d expected changes today. He’d either expected her to leave, or he was going to ask her to go.

  Erika glanced out the kitchen window. The sun was rising in the sky, painting the top of the mountains pink and gold. “Since you’re here, I think I’ll just slip out now,” she said. “Before everyone’s awake. I’m terrible with goodbyes.”

  Ellen looked confused. “You’re leaving?”