His Illegitimate Heir

by Sarah M. Anderson

  She stared at him in confusion. “What are you saying?”

  He had the nerve to shrug nonchalantly. “I grew up in a hair salon, listening to women talk about pregnancies and babies and children. Obviously, we have to check with a doctor, but I think you taking a small sip every now and then isn’t going to hurt anyone. And I don’t want that to be the reason why you think you would have to leave a job you love.”

  She began to get a crick in her lower back. “Why are you here?” Because he was being perfect again and when he was perfect, he was simply irresistible.

  “I’m here for you, Casey. I screwed up last night—I didn’t ask you what you wanted. So that’s what I’m doing now. What do you want to do?”

  She was only vaguely aware that she was staring at him, mouth wide-open. But this was the moment. If she didn’t tell him what she wanted right now, she might never get another chance.

  “Come sit by me,” she said. Obligingly, Zeb clambered down over the back of Dad’s seat and settled in.

  For a moment, Casey was silent as she watched the batter line out to right field. Zeb didn’t say anything, though. He just waited for her.

  “Okay,” she said, mentally psyching herself up for this. Why could she defend her beer and her employees—but asking something for herself was such a struggle?

  Well, to hell with that. She was doing this. Right now. “It’s hard for me to ask for stuff that I want,” she admitted. It wasn’t a graceful statement, but it was the truth.

  Zeb turned and looked at her funny. “You? Didn’t you barge into my office and tell me off on my first day?”

  “It’s different. I defend my job and I defend my workers but for me to sit here and tell you what I want—it’s...it’s hard, okay? So just humor me.”

  “I will always listen to you, Casey. I want you to know that.”

  Her cheeks began to heat and the back of her neck prickled, but she wasn’t allowing herself to get lost in the awkwardness of the moment. Instead, she forged ahead.

  “The last time we were at a game together... I wanted you to tell me that I was beautiful and sensual and...and gorgeous. But it felt stupid, asking for that, so I didn’t, and then after we...” She cleared her throat, hoping against hope that she hadn’t turned bright red and knowing it was way too late for that. “Well, afterward, what you said made me feel even less pretty than normal. And so I shut down on you.”

  Now it was his turn to stare at her, mouth open and eyes wide. “But...do you have any idea how much you turn me on? How gorgeous you are?”

  God, she was going to die of embarrassment. “It’s not that—okay, maybe it is. But it’s that I’ve always been this tomboy. And when we were together in my kitchen, it was good. Great,” she added quickly when he notched an eyebrow at her. “But I don’t want that to be all there is. If we’re going to have a relationship, I need romance. And most people think I don’t, because I drink beer and I watch ball games.”

  She had not died of mortification yet, which had to count for something.

  “Romance,” he said, but he didn’t sound like he was mocking her. Instead, he sounded...thoughtful.

  A small flicker of hope sparked to life underneath the heat of embarrassment. “Yes.”

  He touched her then, his hand on hers. More heat. There’d always be this heat between them. “Duly noted. What else? Because I will do everything in my power to give you what you want and what you need.”

  For a moment, she almost got lost in his gaze. God, those green eyes—from the very first moment, they had pulled her in and refused to let her go. “I don’t want to give up my job. And I don’t want to quit and go someplace else. I’ve worked hard for my job and I love it. I love everything about making beer and everything about working for the brewery. Even my new CEO, who occasionally sends out mixed signals.”

  At that, Zeb laughed out loud. “Can you keep a secret?”

  “Depends on the secret,” she said archly.

  “Before I met you, I don’t think I ever did anything but work. That’s all I’ve known. It’s all my mom did and I thought I had to prove myself to her, to my father—to everyone. I’ve been so focused on being the boss and on besting the Beaumonts for so long that...” He sighed and looked out at the game. But Casey could tell he wasn’t seeing it. “That I’ve forgotten how to be me. Then I met you. When I’m with you, I don’t feel like I have to be something that I’m not. I don’t have to prove myself over and over again. I can just be me.” The look he gave her was tinged with sadness. “It’s hard for me to let go of that—of being the CEO. But you make me want to do better.”

  “Oh, Zeb—there’s so much more to you than just this brewery.”

  He cupped her face. “That goes for you, too—you are more than just a brewmaster to me. You are a passionate, beautiful woman who earned my respect first and my love second.”

  Tears begin to prick at Casey’s eyes. Stupid hormones. “Oh, Zeb...”

  “There’s something between us and I don’t want to screw that up. Any more than I already have,” he added, looking sheepish.

  “What do you want?” She felt it was only fair to ask him.

  “I want to know my child. I want to be a part of his or her life. I don’t want my child to be raised as a bastard.” He paused and Casey felt a twinge of disappointment. It wasn’t like she could disagree with that kind of sentiment—it was a damn noble one.

  But was it enough? She wanted to be wanted not just because she was pregnant but because she was... Well, because she was Casey.

  But before she could open her mouth to tell Zeb this, he went on, “That’s not all.”

  “It’s not?” Her voice came out with a bit of a waver in it.

  He leaned in closer. “It’s not. I want to be with someone who I respect, who I trust to pull me back to myself when I’ve forgotten how to be anything but the boss. I want to be with someone who sparks something in me, someone I look forward to coming home to every single night.” Casey gasped, but he kept going. “I want to be with someone who’s just as committed to her work as I am to mine—but who also knows how to relax and kick back. I want to be with someone who understands the different families I’m a part of now and who loves me because of them, not in spite of them.” His lips were now just a breath away from hers. She could feel his warmth and she wanted nothing more than to melt into him again. “But most of all, I want to be with someone who can tell me what she wants—what she needs—and when she needs it. So tell me, Casey—what do you want?”

  This was really happening. “I want to know you care, that you’ll fight for me and the baby—and for us. That you’ll protect us and support us, even if we do things that other people don’t think we should.”

  Oh, God—that grin on him was too much. She couldn’t resist him and she was tired of trying. “Like be the youngest female brewmaster in the country?”

  He understood. “Yeah, that. If we do this, I want to do this right,” she told him. “But I want to meet you in the middle. I don’t know if I want to live in the big house and I know we can’t live in my tiny apartment.”

  His eyes warmed. “We can talk about that.”

  “That’s what I want—I want to know that I can talk to you and know that you’ll listen. I want to know that everything is going to work out for the best.”

  He pulled back, just the tiniest bit. “I can’t guarantee anything, Casey. But I can promise you this—I will love you and our baby no matter what.”

  Love. That was the something between them—the thing that neither of them could walk away from.

  “That’s what I want,” she told him. She leaned into him, wrapping her hand around the back of his neck and pulling him in closer. “I love you, too. That’s all.”

  “Then I’m yours. All you have to do is ask.” He gave her a
crooked grin. “I won’t always get it right. I’m not a mind reader, you know.”

  She couldn’t help it—she laughed. “Did the all-powerful Zebadiah Richards just admit there was something he couldn’t do?”

  “Shh,” he teased, his eyes sparkling. “Don’t tell anyone. It’s a secret.” Then he leaned in closer. “Let me give you everything, Casey. We’ll run the brewery together and raise our kid. We’ll do it our way.”

  “Yes. I want you.”

  Just as his lips brushed against hers, she heard someone clearing his throat—loudly.

  Dad. In all the talk, she’d forgotten that he’d left to fetch a soda for her. She jolted in her seat, but Zeb didn’t let her go. Instead, he wrapped his arms around her shoulders.

  “Everything okay?” Dad asked as he eyed the two of them suspiciously. “You want me to get rid of him, honey?”

  Casey looked up at her dad as she leaned back into Zeb’s arms and smiled. “Nope,” she said, knowing that this was right. “I want him to stay right here with me.”

  Everything she’d ever wanted was hers—a family, her job and Zeb. He was all hers.

  All she’d had to do was ask for him.

  * * * * *

  Pick up all the BEAUMONT HEIRS novels from Sarah M. Anderson!

  One Colorado family, limitless scandal!

  NOT THE BOSS’S BABY

  TEMPTED BY A COWBOY

  A BEAUMONT CHRISTMAS WEDDING

  HIS SON, HER SECRET

  FALLING FOR HER FAKE FIANCÉ

  HIS ILLEGITIMATE HEIR

  Available now from Harlequin Desire!

  And don’t miss CJ’s story, RICH RANCHER FOR CHRISTMAS coming December 2016!

  ***

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  Keep reading for an excerpt from THE RANCHER RETURNS by Brenda Jackson.

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  The Rancher Returns

  by Brenda Jackson

  Prologue

  “Hey, Viper, your cell phone was going off upstairs.”

  Gavin Blake, known to his SEAL teammates as Viper, nodded as he set his coffee mug on a side table in the barracks’ common area. Standing, he stretched the kinks out of his body and felt his aches all the way to the bone. Their last covert operation had been risky as hell, but they’d succeeded in destroying yet another ISIS stronghold.

  In two days they would officially be off duty and most of his teammates would be heading for home. However he had other plans. Getting laid was at the top of his agenda. It had been too long since he’d shared a woman’s bed and he’d already made plans with a beautiful bartender he’d met in Mississippi while helping his teammate Bane out of a fairly dangerous situation several months ago.

  Gavin raced up the stairs toward his berthing unit and retrieved his cell phone from the gear in his bunk. He’d missed a call from Sherman Lott, the man who’d lived on the neighboring ranch for years. Panic floated through Gavin’s belly. Had something happened to his grandmother?

  Since his grandmother lived alone when he was away, Gavin had given their closest neighbors his contact information in case of emergencies. Of course the foreman was there, running the ranch in Gavin’s absence. Surely if something was going on with his grandmother, Caldwell would have contacted Gavin. But what if this was one of those times when Caldwell had gone to Saint Louis to meet with one of their beef distributors?

  Gavin quickly pressed the redial button and Mr. Lott picked up on the second ring. “Hello?”

  “Mr. Lott, this is Gavin. Has something happened to Gramma Mel?”

  “No, Gavin, your grandmother is fine physically. Not sure what’s happening to her mind, though.”

  Gavin frowned, wondering what the man meant. Although she was nearing her seventy-fifth birthday, Gavin had never known a day in all his thirty-two years when Melody Blake hadn’t been sharp as a tack. He’d spoken with his grandmother two weeks ago and she had sounded just fine to him. “What makes you think something is wrong with her mind?”

  “She’s allowed some fast-talking college professor to convince her that the outlaw Jesse James buried some of his loot on the Silver Spurs, and they plan to start digging up parts of her land next week.”

  Gavin refrained from correcting the man. The land was their property since Gavin legally owned all eight hundred acres jointly with his grandmother. Instead he concentrated on what Lott had said. His grandmother had given someone permission to dig on the Silver Spurs?

  “There must be some mistake, Mr. Lott. You know my grandmother as well as I do. There’s no way she would allow some man to—”

  “It’s a woman. A professor by the name of Dr. Harris.”

  Gavin drew in a deep breath. Who the hell was Dr. Harris and how had she talked his grandmother into agreeing to a dig on Blake land?

  Rubbing a hand down his face, Gavin knew he would be flying home and not making that pit stop in Mississippi after all. Damn!

  “Gavin?”

  “Yes, Mr. Lott, I’m here.”

  “I hated to call you knowing you’re probably somewhere doing important work for our country, but I felt you needed to know what’s going on.”

  “And I appreciate you doing so. Don’t worry about a thing. I’ll be home in a couple of days.”

  Gavin hung up the phone and cursed in anger. He then placed a call to his ranch foreman, Caldwell Andrews. The phone was answered on the third ring.

  “Caldwell? What’s going on at the Silver Spurs? Sherman Lott just called and he thinks Gramma Melody has gone loco. He said something about her allowing some professor to dig on the ranch?”

  He heard Caldwell curse under his breath before saying, “I wish Lott hadn’t called you, Gavin. Your grandmother is fine. She likes the professor. They talked and according to Ms. Mel she read the professor’s report and it’s legit.”

  Viper rolled his eyes. “Caldwell, you know as well as I do that there’s no buried treasure on the Silver Spurs. If you recall, when I was in my teens, Dad allowed this outfit to come in and dig up parts of the land when they convinced him there was oil somewhere on it. Not a drop of oil was found.”
>
  “I remember. But I guess Ms. Mel figured a little digging wouldn’t hurt anything since it’s a small area, away from the main house and far away from where the cows are kept. It’s the south pasture.”

  “The south pasture?”

  “Yes. Nobody ever goes over there.”

  Nobody but me, Gavin thought. He knew everyone thought of the south pasture as wasted land since it had compacted soil, little or no vegetation and unsuitable irrigation. However, that part of the ranch was where he could escape and find solace whenever he needed to be alone. For some reason, going there always renewed his spirits. It was where he’d gone as a kid whenever he would miss his mother, where he’d gone after getting word about his father being killed in the Middle East. And last year he had camped out there a couple of days after returning from his mission and believing his teammate Coop was dead. It was there in the south pasture where Gavin had dealt with the thought of his good friend dying.

  “Like I said, Gavin. Your grandmother has everything under control.”

  He wasn’t so sure of that. “I’ll find that out for myself since I’ll be home in a few days. Don’t mention my visit to Gramma Mel. I want to surprise her.” When he hung up the phone, he rubbed a frustrated hand down his face.

  “Viper? Hey, man, you okay?”

  Viper turned to see four sets of eyes staring at him with concern. His SEAL teammates. They were Brisbane Westmoreland, team name Bane; Thurston McRoy, team name Mac; Laramie Cooper, team name Coop; and David Holloway, team name Flipper. The five of them had survived all phases of SEAL training together and were not only teammates, but like brothers. More than once they’d risked their lives for each other and would continue to have each other’s backs, on duty or off.

  “Viper?”

  He heard the impatience in Mac’s voice and spoke up before Mac’s edginess got the best of them. “It’s my grandmother.”

  “What about Gramma Mel?” Flipper asked, moving closer. Each of them had at one time or another gone home with Viper and met his grandmother.