Dalton Boys Box Set Books 1-5 (The Dalton Boys)

by Em Petrova

  Setting out of the city, she swung her head right and left, looking at landmarks that meant little to her. She hadn’t made memories here, just as she hadn’t anywhere else in her life.

  The best memory she had was of a field of golden grasses where a sexy cowboy had tumbled her. His rough jaw and a wild look in his sapphire blue eyes still haunted her. Then Beck Dalton had wrapped her legs around his hips and given her a screaming orgasm.

  He’d also given her a broken condom scare and acted like a total dickhead.

  Six weeks later she’d discovered his DNA was growing inside her. Owen squealed from the back seat, the best thing that could have come from the bad relationship.

  “Does your tooth bother you, love? It will break through the gum soon and won’t hurt as much.” She paused at the exit ramp. Up ahead the highway led to Texas.

  Her heart rate sped as panic filled her. Was she really going back to that infuriating man?

  Beck Dalton must be a player, pure and simple. He’d never been serious about her. Yes, she’d taken one look at his handsome face and muscled body and fell half in love with him. But that was hormones. Her brain outweighed her body’s needs.

  He didn’t appreciate her passion for her job or the efforts she put into making her classroom fun. While she’d spent hours preparing for the next day, he’d shrugged off her work ethics and went for a beer in Vixen. When he wasn’t ignoring her calls, he was making excuses about slaving away on his family ranch. But she didn’t believe for a minute he was working hard.

  She sniffed and depressed the gas. Merging onto the highway felt like trudging up a mountain laden with her baby and everything in this car on her back.

  If only she had family to ask for help or even a friend to crash with, she wouldn’t be resorting to this. Going back to Texas and begging Owen’s father for help was the equivalent of petting a cat backward.

  It made her want to bite someone. Namely, Beck Dalton.

  Long before he could find out about their child, she’d lost her short-term job at the school in Vixen and left the area. It was all for the best. She didn’t need an immature, dead-beat dad for Owen. After growing up with one herself, she saw the warning signs in Beck.

  As a kid she’d been passed back and forth between bitter mom and angry dad, being played off them—a pawn in a sick game of hatred. She wasn’t having that for her son.

  Actually, she hoped Beck was amiable about what she was about to ask. She and Owen were homeless and she had just enough cash to get them to Paradise Valley Ranch. If Beck had any honor, he’d give her enough money to see her through until she found another teaching job.

  Those positions seemed to be thin on the ground, though. Who could have guessed schools would lose funding and be run on minimal staffs? If it weren’t for bad luck, she wouldn’t have any.

  Except that broken condom seemed the exact opposite of bad luck. She’d won the lottery that day.

  Feeling a little brighter, she switched on the radio and began to sing. Half an hour closer to Texas, she glanced in the little mirror that reflected Owen’s beautiful face and saw he was asleep, trusting her to care for him.

  She prayed she could rely on that idiot Beck Dalton.

  Chapter Two

  “Race ya.” Kade wheeled around too close to Beck’s horse, sending the barely-broken animal skittering.

  For a second, Beck struggled with reins and spurs to get the beast under control. Kade threw his head back and chortled at the pink morning sky. Beck shot him a glare from under the brim of his hat. “I’ll take that bet. Stakes?”

  “Winner gets your second breakfast.”

  Beck’s stomach was as feisty as his horse this morning, wild to get at Momma’s good pancakes. But Beck couldn’t turn away from his brother’s bet. Not when he had the superior horse.

  “You’re on.”

  They lined up with the noses of their horses even.

  “How many times have we done this, Beck?”

  “Oh I don’t know. First time was what…five and six years old?”

  “I beat you then.”

  Beck’s horse quivered, ready to bolt. Beck only hoped it was in the direction he aimed him. With a horse like this, it was a risk. But well worth it for an extra stack of pancakes.

  “You only beat me because I was on that spotted pony.”

  Kade’s grin was wicked. “Yep.”

  Beck patted his animal’s neck. “Won’t happen this time. I got the best horse in the ramada.”

  The group of horses made up their wilder stock. Many were still unable to be ridden, but Beck had managed to leap onto this one’s back, get him out of the gate and into the pastures. Doing the early morning cattle check while training a horse was a challenge he lived for.

  “We’ll see if it’s the best horse. Ready?”

  “Set, go,” Beck hollered.

  Kade released a whoop and Beck’s horse bolted. He gripped the leather and dug his heels against the animal’s sides as they ran full-tilt toward the house. The morning air flooded Beck’s lungs, energizing him. He rarely felt so good and so free. For a long time he’d felt a heaviness he couldn’t explain.

  He’d fought the whys and hows for nearly a year, but a few months ago he’d admitted the real reason to himself—Sabrina.

  After she’d driven away with his truck and clothes, he’d realized it hadn’t been because she was crazy. Okay, she was a little crazy. But the trouble boiled down to him. He’d been a shit about the broken condom then pretty damn insensitive about her taking a waitress job instead of her teaching position. At the time he’d only been thinking about earnings. Ladies at the Suds and Duds did pretty well.

  While it was far too late with Sabrina, he couldn’t seem to shake his worry he really was an intolerable ass who’d never land a good woman as his brothers had.

  He sank low in the saddle, making himself smaller to cut through the air better. His horse’s muscles bunched and released. Mane streaming, Kade’s horse edged closer. His brother’s hat blew off.

  With a hoot of laughter, Beck shot forward. He could almost taste those thick, buttery pancakes.

  But Kade didn’t bother to turn around for his hat—he kept pushing. The hoof beats on the land they all loved so well might have been Beck’s heartbeat. It drummed in his soul, and all at once he came to an understanding. He couldn’t go on the way he had for more than a year—feeling sorry for himself that he wasn’t good for any woman. If he wanted a chunk of this land, he needed a wife.

  “Yaw!” he roared, and his horse jerked forward. Faster and faster, puffing with exertion, but Beck felt it could run for miles this way.

  Ahead he spotted the white picket fencing that had always been the finish line. Momma gave them hell for it, because it meant galloping into her back garden. Several times one of them had trampled cucumber plants or herbs, then they’d have to do extra chores to make amends.

  It was too late to make it up to Sabrina, though. He had no clue where she was and her phone number was different. No, he needed to look to the future. Find someone new.

  Only problem was women were sparse on the ground. He’d be more likely to find a foal growing on a vine in Momma’s garden than a woman in his neck of the woods. He made a mental note to ask Kade about the blonde at the church picnic.

  With his head down so his own hat didn’t fly off, Beck stormed toward the fence. Kade was just behind him. If Beck’s animal stumbled or slowed at all, Kade would overtake him.

  Beck pressed his knees into his horse’s sides. Almost there. Almost.

  The white pickets rushed past him, and he wheeled his horse around before it could hit the garden plot. He zipped right back out of the fenced area, past Kade who was just reaching the finish line.

  Beck patted his stomach as he passed, and Kade, hatless, his hair stuck to his head in sweaty clumps, gave him the middle finger.

  “I’ll have none of that!” Momma yelled from the window.

  Laughing, Beck slowed
his horse. Kade sidled up beside him, and they walked their animals to cool them.

  “Looks like you really are going hungry, bro.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “I won your breakfast and you’ll be hard-pressed to get Momma to make you a stack of pancakes after giving me the finger.”

  “We can’t all be Hank.”

  They exchanged a look and burst out laughing again.

  “So what happened with that cute little blonde from Vixen? Did you get any interest from her?” Beck asked.

  “Oh yeah.” Kade’s voice sounded odd.

  Beck nudged his hat up with his knuckles to get a better look at his brother. “What happened?”

  “She’s seventeen.”

  “Damn. Bad luck, bro.”

  “Tell me about it.”

  “She looked at least twenty.”

  “That’s the trouble with women. You can’t tell their ages and half the time they’re lying.”

  “Or they lie about being married.” That had happened to their brother Witt, and he’d gotten the shit kicked out of him by an irate husband. But now he was happy and settled with his woman, their school-aged son and a daughter on the way.

  Cash had a sweet little girl too. Beck would never admit it, but he had a soft spot for that tiny child with big, brown eyes.

  He had a thing for brown-eyed girls.

  “Breakfaaaaast,” Momma’s voice sounded across the field.

  They both dismounted and led their horses into the paddock. They cared for the animals before heading for the house.

  Beck looked up at a faint noise. He swept the horizon and saw a cloud of dust churning up the dirt road leading to the ranch.

  “Did we call for the vet?” he asked Kade.

  “Nope.”

  “Go on in. I’ll come collect my winnings in a minute.” Beck waved his brother away, knowing damn well Kade would try to say he won. At least Momma had been looking out the window.

  He hitched a thumb in his pocket and watched the car approach. He didn’t recognize the vehicle, and the driver’s face was in shadow. He waited.

  When the car slowed, his brows drew together. The car chugged along like a snail in peanut butter. Whoever this was didn’t understand how bad a cowboy needed his second breakfast. The homemade muffin he’d eaten before dawn had burned off long ago.

  The whine of the engine filled the air. Then the car came to a stop several hundred feet from where he stood.

  He sighed. Must be a stranger. A lost one.

  Setting off toward the car, he tried to recall his manners. Should he send a lost stranger away with directions or invite him in for breakfast? Momma would say the latter.

  The door opened and a curly brown head emerged. Followed by a body to die for. No, to kill for. He stopped breathing.

  How many nights had Beck dreamed of worshipping that body? He was incapable of forgetting a woman who’d matched him so perfectly in bed.

  Sabrina.

  His heart juddered.

  Guess I’m inviting her to breakfast. And getting that chance to apologize. His palms grew sweaty and his throat dried out.

  She quietly closed the car door and stood staring at him. Looking just as beautiful as the day she’d driven away, minus the pissed-off expression. She looked more than a little rumpled and blue shadows lived under each big, soft brown eye.

  Hell, he’d forgotten what those eyes could do to him. Melt him until he was nothing but a puddle in worn cowboy boots.

  “Sabrina.”

  “Beck.” Her throat sounded as desiccated as his felt.

  “It’s good to see you.” His voice cracked.

  She shot a look into the back seat of her car then swung back to face Beck. For an eternal heartbeat, they gazed at each other. He felt his body responding to her nearness. Too well he recalled how delicious she tasted. He could just grab her and kiss her and—

  He cleared his throat. “What brings you back this way? Another job in Vixen?”

  “I…” She looked down at her feet in scuffed cowgirl boots. The same boots she’d worn on their last date. His jeans grew uncomfortably tight at the memory of kissing the length of each tanned thigh to her soaking center.

  He stepped toward her. What was the protocol concerning an ex-lover who’d stolen your clothes and made off with your truck? Should he kiss her on the cheek? Shake hands?

  She spun away and walked woodenly to the rear car door. It was impossible not to notice her round ass as she reached inside for something. When she turned, he jerked his gaze up.

  And dragged a gasp through his mutilated throat.

  The child she held was no bigger than a sack of meal in blue cotton. His limbs were fat and his cheeks red from sleep, just as his mom’s got.

  But that shock of dark hair and the blue Dalton eyes gave away his parentage.

  Oh God.

  Sabrina found her voice at last. “That condom scare’s looking a little more serious now, isn’t it, Beck?”

  * * * * *

  While driving for a day and a two nights, Sabrina had tried to work out what she’d say to her ex. All those words had flown out her ear the instant she clapped eyes on Beck Dalton again.

  What she’d done was the equivalent of handing him his child and grunting, “Baby.”

  Owen was soft and pliant in her arms. He also had a very wet diaper. What better way to meet his father?

  Beck drifted closer. When she studied his handsome face, she found it unreadable—a mask. She couldn’t blame him after the shock, but now she was getting nervous. Maybe she’d made the wrong decision in coming here. She and Owen could have accepted government aid and found low-income housing. She could have gotten a second job.

  Why had she chosen this route?

  She gulped around the lump in her throat.

  Beck clamped his hands into fists. “He’s…ours?”

  Owen nuzzled against her chest. He was a hard waker, just as she was. She nodded, unable to speak.

  A muscle in the corner of Beck’s jaw fluttered and she swore she could hear the sound of his teeth grinding. She’d never seen him mad. Joking, yes. Playful, certainly. But to see this surge of emotion seemed totally out of character.

  “You. Kept. This. From. Me.” He bit off each word, jaw snapping with each syllable.

  Her stomach hatched a thousand butterflies. At the time she’d made the best decision for her and her baby. Besides, she’d been there, done that with this hunky cowboy. He was frosting without the cake. Hot fudge without the ice cream—he lacked the basics that would fulfill her. She’d lived that with her own parents, and he sure as hell wasn’t leaving Owen starving for affection.

  She leaned against the car for support, and Owen started to stir more, looking around with interest. The fresh air ruffled the thin hair on his head, standing it erect.

  “I did what I had to do.”

  “Bullshit,” he ground out. Then he unclenched his fist to stab a finger in her direction. The callused tip hovered inches from her face. She wished she could back up, but the car was in the way.

  He went on, blue eyes snapping with fury. “You didn’t think I had a right to know?”

  “It was my body.”

  “Oh I see. Feminist views? I thought you were smart enough to know I would have done right by you, Sabrina.”

  She laughed, but the sound held no humor. “You’re insulting my intelligence again. Next you’ll suggest I give up on teaching and head down to the Suds and Duds and get a waitressing job.”

  “Where have you been? What the hell have you been doing?” He slashed the air with a hand. “Never mind. That doesn’t matter. What matters is now. What are you doing here? And why now? Why reveal this secret now?”

  His words tumbled out, tripping on each other—another sign he was anything but calm. She liked to think of him as more flustered than irate.

  Owen wiggled, and she gave him what he wanted. She turned him around, hooking an arm around his fat b
elly while he flapped his arms and kicked his feet.

  Beck sucked in a sharp breath. He seemed to rock on his boots, looking as though the morning breeze could blow him over. His gaze riveted on the baby, and his expression flipped through emotions.

  Confusion, worry, awe. Finally his features landed on a look of such tenderness, Sabrina’s heart twisted. She couldn’t draw breath.

  She did the only thing she could think of—she held Owen out to his father.

  Beck didn’t hesitate. He scooped him up and held him with practiced ease, shocking her. He hugged Owen to his chest and buried his nose in their son’s hair. When she saw Beck’s lips moving over the baby’s round head and his throat working, she couldn’t hold back another minute. Tears spilled down her cheeks.

  “Damn you,” he said hoarsely, but even cursing her, he didn’t look mad. He shifted Owen to one arm and looped the other around her waist. She found herself tugged against six feet of hard man. Her nose filled with leather and the tang of hard work.

  He squeezed her once then dropped his forehead to hers. She dragged in an uneven breath. The intimate pose wasn’t what she’d expected. Well, she’d had no clue what would happen when she came here, but this wasn’t it.

  Up close his blue eyes burned. She wanted to look away but was helpless. Owen wrapped his fist around one of his favorite playthings—her hair. He yanked, but she ignored it.

  “Why, Sabrina?” Beck’s words were hot with pain.

  She trembled, wanting to run. Over a year ago moving far away from Beck had seemed best. But now, seeing him hold his baby, she wasn’t so sure.

  “You and I weren’t going anywhere. It was a dead-end relationship.”

  He jerked back. Pain prickled her scalp as Owen’s fist came away with her hair. The place Beck’s forehead had touched hers seemed to throb at his loss.

  “I had a right to know.”

  Now was the time to tell her tale, but she was dead on her feet. She’d driven until a few hours before dawn the first night, then parked in a hotel parking lot, locked the car doors and slept with parking lot lights glaring through the windows. Driving during the day with an infant had been misery. His shrieks for escape still echoed in her ears. She’d had to stop for hours at a time, letting him roll in the grass in a park or just sit in her arms playing with his teething toy.