Texas Two Step: Texas Montgomery Mavericks, Book 1

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Texas Two Step: Texas Montgomery Mavericks, Book 1 Page 17

by Cynthia D'Alba


  Toward the far end of the concrete terrace, Mitch—or more likely Magda—had set up a table and chairs. She headed there, the plan being to get off her leg and give it a rest. As she dropped into a chair with a sigh, she glanced over her right shoulder. Below her the Olympic-sized pool glistened in the moonlight. Heat flushed her cheeks as she thought about her nightly swims and whirlpool therapy. If she’d known someone could have seen her…

  “There you are,” Mitch said, pushing the door shut with his heel. He held up a bottle and two shot glasses. “Crown Royal Reserve.”

  “You remembered.”

  He snorted a chuckle. “How could anyone forget that you made a mini-skirt out of all our empty Crown Royal sacks?”

  She smiled at the memory of Mitch’s fraternity Spring Fling. “Hey!” she said indigently. “I looked hot in that skirt.”

  He set the bottle and glasses on the table. “No kidding. I couldn’t keep my eyes off your legs that night.” He chuckled. “Hell, I thought I was going to have to kill a few frat brothers who couldn’t take their eyes off you either.” He cracked the top of the unopened bottle and poured a couple of shots. “Salute.”

  Olivia took the second glass, tapped his and drank. “Oh man. That was excellent. Another.”

  He arched an eyebrow but said nothing as he refilled her glass. After she downed the second shot and pointed for a third, he said, “Liquid courage, Livie?”

  She rolled the shot glass between the palms of her hands. “Maybe.” She drank the shot, collected her crutches and stood.

  “Where are you going?”

  “I’m not leaving, it’s just…” She walked a couple of paces away. “This is hard, Mitch.” She glanced at him. Nervous waves lapped at the sides of her stomach. She wiped sweaty palms on her shorts and grasped the handles on her crutches. “Let me talk, okay? No interruptions.”

  He leaned back in his chair and nodded.

  She sighed and paced the best she could with a sprained ankle, twisted knee and crutches.

  “I didn’t know I was pregnant when you left. When I missed my period, I didn’t give it a lot of thought. I’d been stressed over our split. Plus, I’d never been very regular, so I wrote it off as normal. By the time I’d missed the third month, I’d been having nausea for a couple of weeks.” She laughed mirthlessly. “I was sure I had the flu.” She gazed over at him. “Denial is an incredibly persuasive state.” Lust curled inside her gut. She looked away because, damn it, he still looked so good to her.

  And she wished he didn’t.

  Life would be much easier if she could keep him—and her feelings—in the past. And that might be possible if she wasn’t so attracted to him. All the more reason the sooner she got away, the better it’d be. She’d never survive being rejected by him again.

  She made her way to the low concrete wall around the terrace and braced herself on the edge. “I went to the doctor expecting her to give me something to get me through flu season. When she asked if I could be pregnant, my first response was no, of course not. Then I remembered our last night together and I knew. I had all the symptoms. Nausea. Missed periods. Sore breasts.” She shook her head. “And I had a reasonable explanation for each of them. Flu. Menstrual irregularity. Over-exertion during my workouts.”

  She paused, trying to find the right words to explain what she did and why. This was hard…as hard as she’d feared. When Mitch didn’t say anything, she sneaked a peek to make sure he was still awake. Icy blue eyes bore into her. A familiar bolt of desire rattled through her, just as it had the first time she’d laid eyes on him. If only she’d had a third hand capable of carrying her liquid courage—as Mitch called it—with her as she paced.

  Knowing she had to continue, she swallowed the lump in the throat and broke his gaze’s grip to look down at the pool again. “When my doctor told me I was pregnant, you cannot believe how happy I was. I was having your baby. I couldn’t imagine anything more wonderful in the world. And even though you’d told me you didn’t want to get married or have kids, I was sure that you’d be thrilled when I told you. I’m pretty sure my feet didn’t touch the pavement as I walked to my car.”

  She paced to the other side of the deck, not venturing a glance at him this time because this next part of her story was going to be difficult enough without seeing the damning in his eyes. “I started to call you immediately, but it’d been three months since we’d talked and I wasn’t sure how to tell you.” A hollow laugh bubbled up her throat. “Hi, Mitch. I know we haven’t talked in a while and you told me to date other guys, but guess what? You’re going to be a father.” Each breath was like sucking a thick milkshake through a thin straw. Lightheadedness made her vision swim, but she welcomed the dreamlike feeling. Standing on Mitch’s deck with their son asleep across the hall didn’t feel real either.

  “I wrote practice scripts. I planned elaborate ways to tell you. Skywriting. Singing telegrams. Quiet candlelit dinners. Once the euphoria faded and reality set in, I realized I had no idea how you might take the news. I decided the best way to do this would be to tell you in person. I’d planned to come to the ranch over a weekend. Then James died and everything changed. I didn’t want to add to your stress, and since waiting a week or so wouldn’t make a difference I decided to wait until things settled down.” She walked a few paces along the retaining wall. “Of course, I couldn’t come to his funeral. There was no way I could see you and not tell you, so I put it off another week. A month had passed before I got the nerve again to call you but you called me instead.” She squeezed the wooden railing, trying to stem the flow of tears building in her eyes. “My hands shook so violently when I heard your voice. I’d missed you so much. Had prayed for you to call. Finally, you had. I could barely hold the phone to my ear. My mind went wild with all my practiced speeches.”

  She went back to the table, pointed a finger at her glass. He filled it without a word. She drank it and paced away again. “But before I could tell you my news, you told me yours. Joanna was pregnant with James’s child…” Her voice hitched. Clearing her throat, she continued, “You were marrying her so the baby would be a Landry, and well, I don’t know how I held it together. I knew the three of you had been inseparable growing up. I knew, or I thought, you loved her like a sister, but then this. I was…”

  The memory of the phone conversation gutted her again. She massaged her abdomen, unable to reach the pain deep inside. The patio lights beneath her blurred in her teary eyes, then a tear rolled down her cheek. “I didn’t know what to do. There was no way to make things right.” She swiped at the tear and sniffed back the rest before turning toward him. She hoped he hadn’t noticed. “What I did know was that I’d never heard that much stress and sadness in your voice. I couldn’t imagine losing one of my brothers. It’d kill me.” She turned her back to him. “You’d made your plans. And whether right or wrong, I loved you too much to toss another bomb into your life. So I didn’t. You asked me to let you go. I let you go. It was the hardest thing I’ve ever done.”

  She walked back to her chair and sat, letting her crutches drop to the deck. “So there you have it. That’s the story.”

  She drew back as he leaned toward her. “Not quite all the story. How did my parents come to meet Adam and what kind of threat did you use to keep them from telling me, because I know they wouldn’t have done that on their own. And Drake? How does he fit into the picture?”

  She flinched at hostility in his voice and the fact he’d nailed the situation with his parents. She had threatened them…sort of.

  She dragged her fingers through her hair. “Drake.” All the air left her lungs in a long exhalation. “Drake and Travis met in first grade. As far back as I can remember, Drake was hanging around our house, riding the horses, helping with the ranch chores. Somewhere around the age of eight or nine, Mom found cuts on Drake’s and Travis’s wrists.” She smiled at the memory. “They’d decided to become blood brothers. Mom washed and bandaged both their arms but I don’
t think they did much more than scratch the surface. Anyway, Drake sort of became brother number four, until he went off to college. When he came back, he was different. More serious, or at least more serious about me. We went out a couple of times, but it wasn’t long after the third date that I met you.”

  She looked at Mitch and tilted her head to one side with a one-shoulder shrug. “And that’s all she wrote when it came to other men. You were it for me.”

  She scooted forward in her chair and clasped her hands between her knees, her forearms resting on her thighs. “Drake didn’t give up completely, but he didn’t push me either. A few days after you called with your wedding plans, Drake asked me to marry him.” She blew out a long breath. “When you got married, he was there for me. He held me when I cried. Rubbed my shoulders when I couldn’t sleep. Even went to childbirth classes. I needed his strength and love to survive. He gave it and never asked for anything in return except to be my husband and help raise my child.”

  Pausing, she stared at the space between her feet and her gaze traced the stone pattern in the flooring. She thought about the nightly calls from Drake asking if he could come get her and Adam, asking her to marry him again, promising her anything she wanted if they could put their family together again.

  Her eyes misted over as she came to the next chapter of her story. She told him about the ill-fated ride on Alice Cooper, her fall and about Travis having to put AC down.

  “Apparently, when I hit the ground, the jarring caused the placenta to start detaching. Or maybe it was already a problem. I don’t know. The doctors told me the fall wouldn’t have caused the problem, but I think they were just trying to make me feel less guilty. Anyway, Adam came early…weeks early. He had lots of problems. Breathing. Jaundice. Feeding. The doctors didn’t think he’d live. Without telling me, my mother called your mother. She thought your mother should get to see her first grandchild before he died.”

  Olivia straightened, then leaned on the arm of her chair, propping her chin in her hand. “I wish she hadn’t. I know Mom meant well, but her call put your parents in an awful situation. When Adam turned the corner and the doctors became optimistic about his progress, your mother begged me to tell you, but you were married. Joanna had recently miscarried her pregnancy. Your whole family was still in shock over James’s death and then the loss of his child. I didn’t know how you and Joanna were getting along but the last thing either of you needed was another emotional blow.” She closed her eyes, remembering all her fears, her threats to his parents. “I told your parents that if they told you, I’d never let them see Adam. Threatened to move somewhere else and not tell them where I was.” Tears leaked down her cheeks. “God, I was awful. Even though I was married to Drake, I was insane with jealousy over your marriage. Baby hormones ran amok through my body.

  “I know your parents might have sued under Texas law for visitation rights, but since I’d named Drake as the father, the odds they would win were slim. They weren’t happy with my decision, but thank goodness you have great parents. I believe they thought I’d change my mind, and I almost did a couple of times. Since Joanna had just miscarried, I knew I couldn’t tell you then. It would have been a crappy thing to do to her…and you. Then your marriage started floundering, and I didn’t want to be responsible if you divorced. When you did finally divorce, I thought you’d contact me. I didn’t want you to want me because of Adam, so I waited for you to call, but you never did.”

  She finally met his gaze. “So that’s it. The whole story.”

  Mitch poured both of them shots of bourbon. He downed his in one gulp. “Why did you marry Drake? You claim you loved me, so how could you marry another man knowing you were carrying my child?”

  “How could you have married another woman when you had claimed to love me just a few months before?” She held up her hand when he started to speak. “I did—do love Drake.” She looked at Mitch. “Maybe I didn’t love him enough. I don’t know. He loved me, and at that time in my life I needed to be loved. He understood I didn’t love him like he loved me, but he was okay with that.” She gave a rueful smile. “Said he loved me enough for both of us. He is such a good man. Kind. Considerate. He adored Adam…and me. He deserved more than I could give him. When we divorced, I pleaded with him to find someone better than me. He let me divorce him but he stayed in my life, in Adam’s life.”

  Mitch drummed his fingers on the arm of his chair. “So he just calls in every single night to check in?”

  Heat rose in Olivia’s cheeks. “Not exactly. I called him before we left Dallas. I knew he’d be worried if he couldn’t reach me. Plus, I wanted to tell him about the accident and about seeing you again. He knew it wouldn’t take you long to figure out Adam was your son. He called because…” She looked away, searching for the right words. Turning back to face him, she said, “He gave me the divorce because I asked him to, but he never wanted it. Tonight, he called to tell me that he’s giving up his job in Wyoming and taking a teaching position at SMU. He’s moving back to Dallas to be with me and Adam. He wants us to try again. He asked me to marry him.”

  Even in the inky darkness, Olivia could see Mitch’s face harden. “I see. What did you tell him? I hope you told him to take a flying leap off a cliff.”

  When she didn’t say anything Mitch grabbed her wrist. “You told him yes?” His voice was low, almost threatening. “If you think I’m going to let another man raise my son—”

  She jerked her arm away and rubbed her wrist. “Stop it. You don’t have any right to tell me who I can and cannot marry, but no, I didn’t say yes. I told him I’d think about it.”

  “Why? Why marry him again? You don’t love him.”

  “Because of you.”

  “Me?” His voice vibrated in anger. “What do I have to do with this?”

  “I’ve listened to you. I’ve heard what you’ve said and you’re right. Adam needs a full-time dad. My brothers are wonderful with him and Dad is the best grandfather in the world, but you’re right, okay? Adam needs a male role model in his life on a permanent basis, not on weekends or holidays. You made your point. I’ve heard you loud and clear.”

  “Are you even listening to yourself? I didn’t say Adam needed any father. I said he needed his father. Hey, here’s an idea. You marry me and move here. No need for Drake to rearrange his life.”

  “God. Could you be more arrogant?” She struggled to her feet. Her racing blood rushed the intoxicating bourbon from her gut, to her blood, to her head. Pain and disappointment squeezed her heart. She’d fantasized about Mitch asking her to marry, how he’d do it, what she’d say, but never had her daydreams included a royal decree to marry and move.

  But then, how pitiful was she that if he’d said anything about loving her, she’d have done just that. Uprooted her son, sold her business and moved in with a man whose eyes were black with fury right now.

  “Where are you going? Sit back down,” he ordered. “We’re not through talking.”

  She whirled around with the most dignity she could muster while balanced on crutches and glared at him. “I’m through.” Her voice was gritty and harsh. “Through with this talk. This house. And you.”

  She wobbled slightly from the effects of the Crown Royal before getting her crutch-walking rhythm under control. The sound of a chair slamming against the railing made her flinch. In a second, Mitch grabbed her forearm.

  “Wait just a minute. We had a deal. You stay here until you can walk without those crutches. I’ll get to spend some time getting to know my son. You’ve had almost six years. I need more than six days.”

  She jerked away, losing her balance and falling forward. The stone flooring rushed toward her face. At the last moment, Mitch wrapped his arm around her waist, stopping her short of planting her face in his terrace. He stood her upright and held on until she got her footing.

  “Thanks, but that doesn’t change anything. I wasn’t sure what answer I would give Drake to his marriage proposals, but thank y
ou for helping me make up my mind.” She moved as quickly as she could toward the door.

  “What the hell does that mean?” he shouted.

  “You figure it out.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Remarry Drake. When would she stop shooting off her mouth? She wasn’t planning on remarrying Drake. She did care about him—loved him even—but how fair would it be to either of them when what she felt for him was maybe a tenth of what she felt for Mitch. If only her feeling quotient for each man were reversed.

  Olivia closed the door to the deck and made her way through Mitch’s temporary bedroom. At the end of his bed, she stopped, closed her eyes and allowed the woodsy scent of his cologne to fill her nose. An odd combination of despair and desire swept through her. She drew in one final deep breath and left his room. A quick check on Adam found him asleep and blissfully unaware of the tension and harsh words that’d filled the air moments ago.

  At the top of the stairs, Olivia paused to plan how to get to the bottom without sliding down each step on her behind. After pulling the right crutch from under her arm, she let it slide down the stairs. Grabbing hold of the handrail, she bent her leg ready to hop down to the first step. As she hopped up, both legs were swept off the carpet, her thighs resting on Mitch’s muscular forearms. He pulled her tight against his chest.

  The remaining crutch slipped to the stairs and duplicated its twin’s slide.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Quiet. You’ll wake Adam.”

  She placed the palms of her hands against his chest and pushed. “Put me down, Mitch.” His expressionless face appeared chiseled from granite, but the pounding of his heart beneath her hands told the real story. This was more than helping a disabled woman down a flight of stairs.

 

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