One to Take (Stuart & Mariska): Sexy Cowboy (One to Hold Book 8)

by Tia Louise

  “We need Dr. Brown,” I shout to the attendant. She’s out of her chair asking what’s wrong, and a guy in scrubs is headed our way with a wheelchair. “She’s in labor,” I continue not wanting to put her down until we’re at a bed.

  Mariska’s head is on my chest, and she grips the front of my shirt. I can feel her body straining with every pain, and I wish there was some way I could help her.

  “Here, sir,” the fellow with the wheelchair motions for me to put her down.

  “Show me to a room. I’ll put her on a bed.” I don’t want to put her down at all then Dr. Langley, Dr. Brown’s partner appears.

  “Mr. Knight! I just got the call. Follow me.” He leads the way, and I follow him quickly down the hall.

  “I think she’s too early,” I say as we enter the room. Mariska is sitting, leaning forward on the bed with her eyes closed. “She didn’t want drugs, but I think she might be in trouble.”

  Her hand shoots out and grabs my arm with such force I almost sit. She’s shaking her head fast, and I peel her fingers off my arm, holding it in my hand instead.

  “No?” I say, smoothing her hair back. “What’s wrong? What’s no?”

  She looks up at me, and her eyes are so focused. “I wasn’t sure…” She takes a breath. “It’s the right time.”

  “Right—it’s not the right time,” I agree.

  “NO!” She shakes her head again, gripping my hand tighter. “This is the right time.”

  Dr. Langley is at her side now, holding her arm and helping her back on the bed. “You think the due date was wrong?”

  Mariska nods quickly, but then she lets out another yell. My stomach drops. “I hope she’s right.”

  She’s crying out more, and the nurses are here. I’m out of my jacket and scrubs are shoved backwards over my shoulders so I can stand beside her and hold her hand. Every scream is a burning sear through my insides.

  Dr. Langley is very calm, and he talks her through the process, encouraging and guiding her. Mariska’s body trembles, and her face is soaked. Her hair is soaked. I hold her arm and rub her back feeling like I might lose it at any moment and demand she be given drugs, even though I know it’s too late.

  I can take pain. I can tolerate enormous amounts of pain, as I learned in the service. I can’t take watching Mariska suffer like this.

  An hour passes. The nurse feeds her ice chips. Every muscle in my body aches from how hard I’m clenching. I feel like I’m pushing through every labor pain with her.

  The doctor suggests she walk around when suddenly Mariska breaks into tears. My stomach plummets.

  “What’s wrong, baby?” My voice cracks.

  “I can’t do it.” She’s crying and shaking, her whole body trembling. “I can’t do it anymore. Stuart, I can’t…”

  Holy shit. I hold her shoulders, stroking her sweat-soaked head. She grips my arms, and I know how hard she’s been working. I don’t know what to say.

  Her head drops, but Langley keeps urging. “Come on, Mariska! Don’t give up!”

  I’m not having it. My arms are around her shoulders, and I draw her close against my chest. “She needs to rest. Just give her a minute.” It’s a stern order.

  The doctor’s eyes go round, and he levels his gaze at me. “She’s at a critical point. The baby’s almost crowning. We can’t surgically remove it. If she stops now, we could lose them both.”

  Jesus! That’s something I won’t allow. My entire demeanor changes. I put my hands on her shoulders and help her sit up. “Come on, baby,” I say softly, catching her chin. Her eyes are wet with tears, and I see the exhaustion lining her face. “We almost have our little boy.”

  She shakes her head as more tears fill her eyes. “I don’t think I can. Stuart…”

  “Yes,” I smooth back her hair, forcing a smile as panic squeezes my chest. “You can, baby. You’re strong. Bring him here. Come on.”

  She blinks at me a few times, thinking. I watch as her eyes roam around the room until at last they return to me, and in them I see that strength she’s always possessed coming back.

  Her voice is trembling, but she grips my hand. “Okay.”

  Minutes like eons pass as she works through the final stages. The doctor shouts that he’s crowning, and everything moves faster. At the same time, it all seems to go in slow motion until the noise of our urging, the crying and gasping of my wife, the drumbeat of my heart, all of it is cut by the most beautiful, the shrillest scream of a newborn I’ve ever heard.

  In a flash Stuart William Junior is in the world, and he’s raging. His cries are strong and angry, and Mariska bursts into teary laughter. He’s swept to a little side area where he’s weighed, measured, and wiped down—yelling his head off the entire time.

  I lean down to kiss Mariska’s lips. “He sounds strong.”

  “He sounds like his daddy!” she laughs, her face beaming. “He doesn’t like being pushed around.”

  The little guy is wrapped in a blanket, and the nurse hands him to Mariska. As soon as she gets him, he nuzzles into her breast. It takes a few moments. He’s rooting and grunting like a newborn puppy. The same nurse steps up to help him find what he’s looking for, and the room falls silent.

  Mariska cuddles him closer as he nurses. “He’s so beautiful.”

  “He’s dark,” I say, cupping my hand over his dark brown hair. His head is so small it fits in the palm of my hand. “And tiny.”

  She leans forward and runs her nose along his little forehead. “He’s perfect.”

  “He seems to be.” I touch his little head again gently. “The doc would tell us if anything was wrong.”

  Her slim brows pull together, and our eyes meet. “What would be wrong?”

  “Just him coming so early.”

  “Oh,” she smiles, leaning her head down again. “He’s not early.”

  “You said that before. How do you know?”

  She sighs, kissing our now-sleeping infant. “I didn’t want to say anything because I wasn’t sure, but I started having dizzy spells and bouts of low blood sugar about a month after we moved back here. Around when we saw Jessie that first time on our way to the cabin.”

  Sitting beside her on the narrow bed, I smooth her hair off her forehead. “That would mean he’s—”

  “Right on time.” She lifts her chin and kisses my neck. “We must’ve got lucky the night of our honeymoon.”

  I breathe a laugh. “It was a good night.”

  “It was a great night.” Her cheek rests on my arm, which is around her shoulders.

  * * *

  By the time June rolls around, the ranch is busier than it’s ever been. The additional four horses fill all ten stalls in the barn for the first time ever, and we alternate two days a week working with autistic children and with recovering adults.

  Mariska is putting her graduate degree to work, the baby strapped to her body like a little kangaroo in one of those carriers. He’s an easy baby. He doesn’t cry much, and he sleeps through most of her work.

  Bill returns for a visit, and as I walk him through the barn, he beams with pride at what we’ve done with the place.

  “A therapy ranch.” He shakes his head, grinning under that heavy mustache. “Why didn’t I think of this?”

  Will is asleep on my shoulder. A cute little brown sock hat with “Cowboy in Training” printed on it covers his head, and his tiny body is tucked in the crook of my arm. We stop at the paddock door and watch as Mariska works with three autistic children and their parents alongside Cheyenne, Dakota, and Jessie.

  One of the children is blind, and as he touches Dakota’s soft mane, extending his clumsy fingers and grabbing at the soft fur, a look of rapture settles over his face.

  My grip on my own little son tightens. “Mariska’s department chair is excited to develop this program. Mariska expanded her art therapy to include horses and handicapped children.”

  Bill is quiet, his eyes fixed on my wife as she shows the parents how to guid
e their children through touching and interacting with the large, gentle animals.

  “She really belongs here,” he says. “You all do.”

  Will stirs on my shoulder, scrubbing his little face against the crook of my neck. I can’t help a smile. “You gave me the best advice of my life when you told me to take back what was mine.”

  “I only know what I saw. Mariska loves you. You love her. Life is hard, and it dealt you a tough blow. But you’re strong. You’ve always been stronger than whatever life threw at you.”

  “You always believed in me.”

  “Belief, faith, love. It’s what makes a family a home.”

  “I’m glad I have you.” I reach out and squeeze his shoulder.

  Later that night as we settle into our bed, I think about my uncle’s words. Mariska is on her side feeding our little son. Her hair shines in the lamplight in shades of chestnut and caramel. I slide in behind her, wrapping my arm around her waist and kiss the side of her neck. The scent of jasmine envelops us.

  It’s a beautiful moment, and even though time will pass, babies will grow into cowboys, and the activity will die down, I know this woman in my arms is my home. She eases my pain. She makes me laugh. She’s the only pair of arms I want to fall into when I’m in need.

  “I love you,” I whisper softly, kissing her again. She smiles, and I know she feels the same. Come what may, we’ll be here, facing whatever storms arise, together.

  * * *

  Want the story of how Stuart and Mariska first met?

  Keep clicking for an Exclusive Sneak Peek at ONE TO LEAVE!

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  Slayde Bennett is a wounded former boxer. Kenny Woods is a widowed tattoo artist who has given up on love.

  When the two meet in ONE TO LOVE, their sizzling chemistry changes everything.

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  Love paranormal romance? Stuart is Derek’s alpha shape-shifter partner and Mariska is the granddaughter of a voodoo queen in ONE IMMORTAL…

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  Books in the One to Hold series are:

  Derek & Melissa: One to Hold, One to Protect, One to Save

  Patrick & Elaine: One to Keep

  Kenny & Slayde: One to Love

  Stuart & Mariska: One to Leave, One to Take

  Marcus Merritt & Amy Knight: One to Chase, “Runaway”

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  Derek & Melissa: One Immortal

  Koa “Stitch” & Mercy: One Insatiable

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  One to Leave

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  (Stuart & Mariska)

  © TLM Productions, 2014

  Mariska

  If you asked where this sudden surge of bravery came from, I’d have to be honest. I had no fucking idea. Stuart rode into the barn looking like sex on two legs… very tired sex on two legs, but sex on two legs all the same, and I made up my mind. After the way he kissed me yesterday, I didn’t care what type of bullshit line he tried to spin, Stuart Knight was in the same space as me. He was fighting hard, but he wanted this.

  Now I was in his bedroom ordering him around, and he was actually allowing it. Humoring me, more like it. Not for one minute was I suffering from the delusion that this man took orders from anyone. Still, for whatever reason, exhaustion or simple curiosity, he let me take the lead.

  Once his shirt was off, I couldn’t hide the hitch in my breath at the site of his lined torso. Ridges crossed his abdomen, lines stretched across his broad shoulders and down his arms. He lay on his stomach across the mattress, and it was all I could do not to run my tongue over every inch of his beautiful body. Instead, I quickly took off my boots, and for increased mobility (yes, that was my excuse), I removed my denim shorts.

  Lightly I smoothed my palm across his lower back, trying to remember the touches I’d learned in the few massage therapy classes I’d taken. Why hadn’t I taken more? Kneading a little harder, I knew I had to get lower, down into the pelvic area to give him relief.

  “Do you mind if I remove your boxers?” My voice was breathless and trembling. Those snug, dark briefs didn’t hide much, but I knew once I saw that ass, I’d be a goner.

  “No.”

  One word. He’d sounded almost as cautious as me when he said it. Closing my eyes, I shook myself. Now was the time. This was my man. If I was going to make it happen, if I was going to make any of this make sense, from the day I left Bayville to this moment, I had to go for it. Fate had dropped this opportunity straight in my lap.

  Inhaling a quiet breath, I gently pulled the waistband out and lowered it down his legs. I knew what was on the other side, pressed between his pelvis and the mattress, and I didn’t want to hurt him. Miraculously, I got his underwear off, and

  Oh.

  My.

  God.

  Square and tight, with palm-sized indentations on each side… For a moment, I could only stare at his backside. Perfect and golden as the rest of him.

  Climbing back onto my knees, I took the quietest deep breath in the history of recorded time. It trembled going in, and my hand trembled reaching out. I touched him. He seemed to brea
the at that exact moment as well—almost as if he’d been holding his breath, too.

  Pressing with my palms and circling with my thumbs, I kneaded the tightness out of his left side. Moving down that perfect curve of muscle, I went to his hamstring and repeated the process moving back up. Thumbs circling, palms pressing, more circling, more kneading, and I moved to the other leg to repeat the process, down then slowly working my way back up to that perfect ass.

  He let out a few quiet groans throughout, and after ten minutes that felt like a mixture of ten seconds and ten hours, I’d done all I could do. I was finished.

  Sitting back on the bed, I looked at the sculptured physique lying before me.

  “You should take an ibuprofen to head off any pain tonight. Massage releases lactic acid, and you might actually feel worse at first. It’ll be a lot better in the morning.”

  His head turned, and smoky hazel eyes blinked under thick lashes. He was tired, but he was still so handsome. “That felt really good.” Husky voice. The man was pure sex. “Thanks.”

  Dropping my chin, I looked at my hands. “Glad to help.”

  Neither of us spoke. He didn’t move. My work was done, and it was time for me to go. I had to go.

  My insides twisted, and my stomach cramped at the thought of walking away from him, at the prospect that he might not follow. Still, I knew Stuart Knight, and I couldn’t be easy. He had to decide what he wanted. He had to come after me.