Keeping Kayla: a Cowboy Fairytales spin-off (Triple H Brides Book 4)

by Lacy Williams

  Nate stopped behind Kayla. She tensed up, but with his bulk blocking her, the kid probably couldn't see that.

  "Hi." He pressed a kiss to her temple, smiling at the reflection of her frown in the darkened window. He let her go before she whacked him with the spatula she held.

  He stepped back toward the table and placed a comic book on the surface, then slid it over to Miles. Surely the kid couldn't resist Batman. Batman was classic.

  The kid raised his eyes to Nate.

  "It's for you. Batman was my favorite when I was a kid."

  He and his dad had collected the comics together. They'd amassed a huge collection before he'd reached high school. He wondered if dad had thrown them all in the trash after their falling-out.

  "Thanks," the kid muttered to the table. But he carefully opened the front flap of the comic. Nate couldn't help noticing his skinny arms and scraped knuckles.

  Kayla was peering over her shoulder, but when she caught him looking back at her, she quickly turned back to the stove.

  "Want me to feed the mutts?" he asked. He was chafing from all the inactivity today. At the Triple H, he'd be doing a final check of the day's tasks, reassigning things that hadn't gotten finished for the next day and making sure one of the guys was available to do an evening check of the herd.

  "They aren't mutts," Kayla said over her shoulder.

  He waited, watched as she almost tripped on the lab once more.

  "Yeah, I guess," she said.

  He didn't smile at the tiny victory, just went to the pantry where he'd seen her retrieve the dog food yesterday. The shelves were completely disorganized. Cans of vegetables and beans were mixed in with cereal boxes and half-empty bags of chips. A shelf in the middle held an incredible amount of junk food. Sugary cereal, Doritos, Oreos and more. She'd obviously raided the snack aisle of the grocery store. All for Miles, no doubt.

  The sound of the scoop in the bowl brought both larger dogs to Nate’s feet, and he had to shuffle step to avoid stepping on any paws. The little Chihuahua didn't move from her perch in the corner, though her ears perked.

  He put the two large bowls on the floor, and the two big dogs began to chow down. Still the Chihuahua didn't move from her spot.

  "Here, girl!" he said. He shook her bowl.

  Nothing.

  Kayla looked over her shoulder again. "She won't eat unless you leave the bowl and we all clear out of the room. I don't know what happened to her before I found her in the barn, but she's still pretty spooked."

  He left the two bigger dogs to their food. He was peripherally aware of Miles, who was paying attention covertly but not raising his head from the comic. Kayla was sure he had abandonment issues. Did Miles think they were just going to kick him out if they didn't like him?

  What a sad way to live. Nate hated it for the boy. His childhood had been fairly average—his dad's oil money hadn't come into play until Nate had been about ten—and he and his dad didn't have the best relationship now, but he couldn't imagine not having the security of knowing you were going to have a roof over your head.

  Nate sat on the floor near the Chihuahua's box with his back against the doorjamb. He rested the small food bowl next to his thigh. The little dog growled at him but didn't bark a yappy bark like he might've expected. He ignored it, and she stopped after several seconds, but she kept giving him the side-eye.

  Join the party, he thought. Kayla had been doing the same all day. He didn't know what she expected of him, but he was doing his best to keep things on an even-keel and not press anyone's hot buttons.

  The puppies were tiny and crawled sleepily all over their mother. In another few weeks, they'd be getting into everything. Kayla needed to get her kennels up and running. He'd bring it up again later, maybe after Miles was in bed. No use getting into a fight in front of the boy, and he had a feeling Kayla was going to try to reject his help.

  Nate kept his gaze on the dog, but spoke to the humans. "Want to play hooky tomorrow? We could all three go down to Dallas and do some shopping for school clothes. Maybe catch a movie or do something else fun."

  He was watching close enough that he saw Miles go perfectly still at the table. Except for a nervous tap of his foot beneath the table, he showed no other reaction.

  "It's supposed to be his first day at TH Elementary," Kayla said with a concerned glance that encompassed both of them. At least she didn't seem peeved at his suggestion.

  Miles's shoulders dropped just the slightest bit.

  "Yeah, but it's a Friday," Nate cajoled. "One day isn't nearly enough to make new friends, so why don't we take a fun day, and he can start on Monday. What do you say, buddy?"

  Miles shot him a scathing look. Okay, so he wasn't his buddy.

  "I don't care," the kid mumbled.

  Nate would disagree based on how hard the boy was trying to play it cool.

  "I guess I could call the school and Rachel and make sure it's all right." Kayla turned back to the stove. She didn't see the slight rise of a tiny smile on Miles's mouth, but Nate did.

  That was one minuscule victory. Dare he try for a second?

  Kayla let the two bigger dogs outside to do their business.

  "Here, girl." He spread some kernels of dog food across the tile, tempting the Chihuahua out of her box.

  Nothing doing. She just stared at him.

  "She won't come out of there," Kayla warned.

  He pulled a face. "Pessimist."

  She shrugged. "It's not on me if you get bit. I know you're going to stick your hand in there next."

  Miles turned his head—apparently, Nate getting bit rated a full-on look—and watched.

  Nate loaded a bit of food into his palm and held it out to the dog. How bad could a little bite hurt, anyway? She growled, but Nate didn't flinch or move his hand. He waited her out.

  He was rewarded when her little tongue poked out, and she took several pieces from his palm.

  He looked up, but Kayla's back was to him. Miles was watching, and Nate winked at the kid, but he just frowned and turned his face away.

  When he looked back, the dog was turning its nose up and refusing anything further. But Nate had won two small victories this evening, and it buoyed him. He could win Kayla back. He knew it.

  Chapter 4

  Kayla was wrapped in an afghan sitting in the darkened living room when she felt, rather than saw, Nate enter from the hallway.

  Somewhere along the line, she'd dozed off. Now, awareness of the man had her heart pounding and drawing her fully awake. The clock on the DVD player blinked 12:03, but she hadn’t bothered to change it for daylight savings time. Eleven p.m. Why did it feel like the middle of the night?

  Nate's presence exhausted her. That had to be it. She'd meant to stay up and work more on the grant proposal paperwork, but now...

  The house was silent, except for the slight creak of the floor beneath Nate’s sock feet.

  She was purposely half-hidden among the throw pillows on the couch, but she wasn't that surprised when Nate came right to her. He’d retired to the master bedroom earlier. She had hoped he'd be sleeping by now.

  No such luck.

  "What're you doing?" he asked.

  "Shh."

  She couldn't see his face in the dark but imagined him frowning.

  "What're you doing?" At least he’d whispered this time.

  "Waiting."

  "For what?"

  "Miles is going to try to sneak out. Run away."

  Now she could imagine confusion cresting his features. Of course, he might not show that emotion either, just hide it behind his blank face.

  "I thought we were doing fine. We've planned a fun day for tomorrow. We had a good dinner, even if he was a little quiet."

  Yeah, real good dinner. She’d burned the chicken breasts and they’d had to settle for grilled cheese. Smoky grilled cheese.

  She couldn't expect him to understand, not if he'd never experienced life as a foster kid. "It's just that when you get
used to bad things happening in your life, you don't depend on the good to stick around. A lot of times, you plan to leave before it gets turns bad, because the good never lasts."

  She expected him to tell her she was being silly, but he didn't say anything for a long moment, and then, "That sounds...sad."

  His voice held a note of compassion that she'd never heard from him before. It threatened to draw her in.

  She didn't want his compassion.

  She needed to keep distance between them or else she'd risk him playing with her heart all over again.

  And she didn't want to think about her childhood. "I'm surprised you're awake," she whispered. "I thought cowboys went to bed with the sun in order to get up with the chickens."

  He didn't laugh, just stood there in the darkness, immovable. It started to make her uncomfortable.

  "If you aren't going back to bed, you'll need to sit down somewhere out of the way."

  "You mean hide?"

  "Yes," she said testily. The man made her irritable. Probably because she could so easily start liking him again.

  She'd expected him to cross to the overstuffed chair, but he wedged himself to a seated position on the floor between the coffee table and sofa, which meant his muscled shoulder was pressed next to her thigh.

  She tried to scoot away, but her couch wasn't that big, and there wasn't anywhere to go. The darkness and the need to keep their voices low made everything seem intimate.

  "I thought maybe you were avoiding coming to bed because I was in your bedroom."

  It had certainly made her more willing to do the stakeout knowing she could avoid Nate. Not that she was going to admit to it.

  "I made a pallet on the floor," he admitted softly. "But if your collie becomes my snuggle buddy, we're going to have words."

  They hadn't talked about sleeping arrangements, and making the pallet had been thoughtful. The spot behind her nose stung suspiciously.

  He was silent for a long moment, and she almost dreaded whatever he was going to say next.

  He drew in a deep breath, and she braced herself.

  "Back when we were together, I was pretty self-absorbed. I knew you and Sarah had lived in the group home, but I didn't really give much thought to what that must've been like. I don't know if it would've changed anything that happened between us, but I should've been more considerate about your...background."

  That spot behind her nose stung, and she blinked mightily. It was maybe the nicest thing he'd said to her since everything had fallen apart between them.

  "It wouldn't have changed anything," she whispered.

  For that one night, she'd been perfectly happy, felt like she belonged. But in the light of day, she'd known they weren't a good fit. How could she belong with someone like him?

  His head lolled back on the couch cushion. His hair brushed her bare upper arm, and she shivered.

  "I know I was a punk kid, but I was gone for you." The whispered admission, the tenderness in his voice, snuck in her heart. "So much that there hasn't been anyone else..."

  His words sent her stomach swooping.

  "It's really hard to survive on love alone," she said. "And your dad never would've—"

  She heard a creak in the hallway. She gripped Nate's shoulder, and he went silent too. Had she imagined it?

  No, there it was again. Moments later, she could make out a shadow creeping along the hallway toward the front door.

  She reached for the tabletop lamp and flicked it on. The yellow light illuminated the boy with his jean jacket on and his shoes clutched in his hands.

  "Do we really have to do this again?" she asked Miles.

  Miles stuck out his chin stubbornly. "You didn't want me then, so why should I stay now?"

  His words were sullen and angry, but she knew the hurt behind them.

  "I did want you to stay," she said quietly. "But it's important to do things by the book, so I had to notify Ms. Rachel."

  Her words struck a chord of guilt in her at the deception she and Nate were pulling. It was for Miles's benefit, but what if they were found out and everything disintegrated? Would that be fair to Miles?

  Nate looked at her and for once, she could read the emotion on his face. He was thinking the same thing.

  But tonight wasn't the moment to fix the mess she'd gotten them all in.

  "I want you here," she said.

  "Me too."

  Nate's solid statement surprised her, but the look of determination on his face was familiar. How many times during her childhood had she longed to hear words like those? For someone to want her.

  Miles scowled but marched back to his room.

  Nate yawned. "Are you staying out here all night? Or do you want to take turns?"

  The thought of spending the night in the same room as Nate was dangerous to her equilibrium. She was letting him in far too much as it was.

  "I'll stay. You go to bed." This way was better. Or at least that's what she told herself.

  It was a long time before she fell asleep again.

  Nate had made less progress in the last twenty-four hours than he'd hoped to. After those few moments in the dark of night where she'd opened up to him, Kayla'd given him the cold shoulder all morning.

  Miles was using the silent treatment, and that little Chihuahua had completely ignored Nate's overtures at breakfast.

  Maybe he should just call it a day and go back to bed.

  Instead, he found himself packing into the cab of his truck with Miles in the center seat and Kayla in the passenger side. This was going to be a long trip if neither of them wanted to talk.

  He kept quiet all of fifteen minutes, about the time it took them to get to the freeway pointed toward Dallas.

  "It's almost baseball season," he said, searching for any topic that might be safe. "The middle school still has a team, doesn't it?" This he directed to Kayla.

  She nodded. "Sarah's practice got hit up for a sponsorship."

  "Are you going to go out for the team?" he asked Miles.

  Assuming, of course, that Nate and Kayla got things sorted with the system and the boy got to stay.

  Miles shrugged, picking at a string on the knee of his jeans.

  "Can you play?"

  Another shrug. This was getting tiring. Couldn't the kid make one overture?

  "Maybe that's what we do instead of hitting a movie," he said to Kayla over the boy's head. "Hit the batting cages instead. You played a mean game of softball your senior year."

  Her eyes lit up, but her smile was cautious. "That was part of the mandatory PE curriculum. I haven't picked up a bat since. I'm sure I've lost any skill I might've had."

  "Aw, c'mon." He tapped the steering wheel in time to the country song on the radio. "It'll be fun. I haven't played in years either. I bet it's like riding a bike. And we can teach Tiger here a thing or two."

  Nate had been a trooper for over two hours of shopping. Getting Miles to cooperate enough to try on any clothes was like leash-training a lazy poodle.

  Even the carrot of stopping for ice cream after they were done had barely been any motivation.

  She'd planned to make the purchases for Miles—trying not to think about the dwindling balance of her bank account—but Nate had pulled out his wallet before she'd even had a chance. And he hadn't blinked at the cost of several pairs of jeans, a few shirts, and a new coat, hat and gloves for the boy.

  It must be easy to spend the allowance he got from his old man. Oil money. But she wasn't going to complain, not when he was doing it for Miles.

  Okay, she wasn’t going to complain aloud. She couldn’t seem to help it internally.

  Nate had cajoled the both of them, and now they were here at a batting cage place he'd looked up on his phone in an industrial part of Dallas she hadn't visited before. Right now, she and Miles stood near the line of available cages while he scouted for a bat and paid the rental fee. It smelled like sweaty gym socks, but Miles didn't seem to mind.

  The cage
was empty, so she tangled her fingers into the chain length and turned to the boy beside her.

  "So what's up?" she asked. "You've been awfully quiet all day."

  He shrugged, watching one of the furthest cages where a college-aged kid swung. The bat cracked against a ball as it flew off toward the end of the cage.

  "Nervous about school starting?" she asked. "TH Elementary is a good school." But she knew how hard it could be to make friends as the new kid.

  His chin jutted upward, and he turned a cool glance on her. "What's up with you? Last I knew, you weren't married."

  She'd forgotten about that. The night she'd found Miles in her barn and talked him into a warm meal, he'd asked why she wasn't married.

  "It's complicated."

  He scowled and averted his face. "Not that complicated to get that they'll take me away when they find out you lied to them."

  "It's not a lie. We're really married."

  But he was right. Things could get crazy-messy if she couldn't figure a way out of this mess.

  "Did you tell Rachel?" she asked.

  He shoved his hands in his jeans pockets. His shoulders were hunched beneath his ratty jacket. "Why would I?"

  Nate arrived with a bat and two batting helmets in hand. His gaze bounced between her and Miles, and she knew he must've picked up on the tension between them, but he only tossed the smaller of the two helmets to Miles, who caught it awkwardly.

  "You two ready to rumble?"

  Miles remained silent, which left Kayla to force a smile and step into the batter's box. The unfamiliar helmet was heavy and angled over her eye. In the time she took to adjust it, one slow machine-pitched ball sailed over the plate.

  "You missed," Miles said helpfully.

  Her face warmed a little. "I didn't even have my bat raised."

  Nate linked his fingers in the chain link, and his body language relaxed. She let her eyes skip away from the warmth in his gaze. "She'll get it this time. Just watch, Tiger."

  Gosh. No pressure there. She cocked the bat, tensed her grip slightly. The machine clanked, and a softball soared toward her. She waited and waited and...swung.