by Sharan Daire
“If you want to give all that paperwork to me, I’ll keep it for you. I’m not well-versed in family law, but I’ve got contacts if we ever need it. We’ll make sure to send Canyon Rock as your new address as well to satisfy the court.”
Derek gave me a slight nod, confirming my suspicions. He’d been perfectly willing to help in any way he could as a sheriff as well.
If her dickhead ex even thought about showing up to cause her problems, he’d sorely regret that decision.
She turned to Derek, a hesitant, almost shy look on her face. “Were you and Kaleb serious about being the kids’ fathers?”
“Abso-fucking-lutely.” Derek stroked her cheek with his thumb, and Kaleb seconded it. “Without question.”
Her eyes shimmered. “Like officially? Could they have your name?”
“Ev?” Derek asked. “What do we need to do that?”
“I’ll draw up papers that your ex can sign, releasing all parental rights over the children so you can adopt them. But—” I added quickly, trying to head them off at the pass before they got too excited. “He may not be willing to do so, even if that’s what the kids want, just so he can be an even bigger asshole.”
Shelby bit her lip, nodding. “Sounds like Rob to a T.”
“Did he pay you any child support? That might be leverage you can use against him.”
She rolled her eyes. “Of course he didn’t. I never got a dime from him.”
I watched her face, changing from wistfulness to something harder, steeled with determination. “He’ll sign those papers. My kids will have the fathers they deserve.”
Yes, I swore silently. They will.
9
Shelby
I woke after not really remembering falling asleep. I must have slept as hard as Derek usually did, because sunlight streamed in through the windows.
Oh no. I’m late!
I shot up into a sitting position and then realized Derek was asleep in bed with me. He must be off work today. What day was it? I couldn’t remember, but I was pretty sure we were supposed to work all week with Paolo to get the pictures Chris needed for his advertising.
For once, Derek woke up quickly. “Hey, what’s wrong? Everything okay?”
“I’m late. Why didn’t Chris wake me up this morning for the photoshoot?”
Derek scooted up to sit against the headboard. “He thought you needed your rest. In fact, I’m pretty sure I heard him tell Ev he’d be sending the photographer back to New York as soon as they finalized the contract.”
“Oh no.” I scrambled over his legs and hurried to the closet, slinging on some comfortable leggings and a hoodie. I didn’t mess with my hair, but I couldn’t go anywhere without brushing my teeth.
He rushed in after me. “Are you sick again?”
I shook my head, though I didn’t try to answer him until I spit into the sink. “I need to talk to Chris before he sends the photographer back.”
“He’s not going to push you—”
“Oh for fuck’s sake,” I broke in, pausing only to splash water on my face. “I’m not dead. I’m pregnant. I worked all the way up until both of my other kids’ births, at a much more demanding job, and felt fine, thank you very much. I want to model. I certainly don’t want to set Chris’ timeline back any.”
It was true, I realized, as we drove up to the lodge. I wanted to model. I’d never even thought about it before, but now that I’d had a taste of it, I loved it. Though of course the sexy men I usually got to pose with certainly had a lot to do with my enjoyment.
Despite being irritated that they’d conspired to let me sleep in late and might even consider canceling the modeling gig entirely, I couldn’t help but appreciate their help and care. They’d made sure Liam got to school, and Kaleb had taken Allie up to the lodge early for preschool time with Miss Maggie. Rob never would have been able to manage the kids on his own. Even before he’d left, he’d never have fed them breakfast or thought to keep them quiet so I could sleep in a little.
I jumped out of the SUV as soon as Derek parked, which earned me a gruff scowl from my formidable sheriff. He was very much a traditional “open the door for the lady” kind of guy. So to make it up to him, I slipped my hand into his. He pulled me closer and tucked my hand around his elbow, though he did wrap his other hand over mine on his arm.
One of the greeters opened the door for us.
“Thank you,” I said to the young man. “Is Mr. Blakely in the office?”
“Yes, ma’am, and Mr. Harris too.”
“You look a little pale this morning,” Derek said as we walked inside. “Should we go to the kitchen first?”
“No,” I retorted tartly. “If you’re so hungry, go right ahead.”
He laughed, shaking his head. “Oh, no. I’m not going to miss this for the world.” Though he did ask the young woman at the front desk to call to the kitchen for two breakfasts to be delivered to the office, along with coffee.
I tapped on the door, but I didn’t wait for Chris to say, “Come in.” I didn’t think he would, especially if he was supposedly in a private meeting with Paolo. I didn’t stop to think about what I was doing.
Charging into a grumpy man’s office. Interrupting a business meeting. Throwing a seemingly nice gesture back into his face. Now was the time for an offensive attack. No hanging back, worrying about trying to be nice and keep everyone happy.
If I allowed him to cancel his entire line just because I was pregnant, I’d always regret it, even if he didn’t. Besides, he didn’t get to make all the decisions for me. I wasn’t going to sit down meekly and let him plan out what I was and wasn’t going to do.
I marched right up to the desk, in between the two men who turned and gaped at me, and planted both palms on the surface so I could lean toward him. “Just what do you think you’re doing?”
Chris mirrored me, planting his palms on the other side of mine as he stood so he could loom over me. Eyes dark and heavy, his mouth in a flat, hard slant, he growled, “I’m taking care of my business interests. What do you think you’re doing?”
“Stopping you from making a mistake.” Then I leaned further over the desk so I could press my lips to his. Immediately, he softened. His lips eased beneath mine. His hands came up to cup my cheeks. Like he did everything in life, he focused wholly on me. Inhaling my lips, drinking me down, searing my brain to ash.
Breathless, I pulled back slightly and gave him a wobbly smile. “Please don’t send Paolo back to New York until we get the shots you need to continue advertising.”
“I won’t risk you.”
“It’s not a risk to take a few pictures. I’m finally doing a job that I really like. Don’t take that away from me and force me to the sidelines indefinitely.”
He dragged his gaze away and scowled at Derek. “Are you in on this game plan?”
“It’s her game plan. If she wants to play, then I recommend you put her in, coach.”
Chris rolled his eyes. “Starting football metaphors was a stupid idea.”
Everett stood and guided me to sit in his chair. Derek dragged another couple of chairs closer so they could both sit down near the desk. Another knock at the door interrupted everybody again before we could continue the conversation, but once Chris saw it was breakfast for me, he nodded approvingly at Derek.
Finally settled with a buttered English muffin and a delightful fruit salad, I laid out a tentative plan. “Mr. Rossetti, I don’t know if Chris filled you in on what’s going on or not…”
The photographer smiled sheepishly. “He did not, but I have guessed, Ms. Kent, and may I be the first to offer my congratulations on your happy news?”
“Thank you. It’s very early and things could definitely change quickly. I may be a bit queasy in the morning, but what has worked for me in the past is to eat numerous small meals throughout the day so that I never really get very hungry. Then I don’t feel faint or sick. If we could start work closer to nine, and take breaks every two hours
, that should be plenty of rest and time for me to eat a light meal.”
“Of course,” Paolo said. “We can take as many breaks as you need.”
I focused on Chris. “About New York—”
“No.” His tone rang with finality. His face locked down with grim menace. He leaned down, making sure to hold my gaze. “Forget it, Shel. I won’t put you through that kind of stress.”
“But what if I want to?” I asked softly.
His eyes flickered with hesitation and concern. Not relief or hope or excitement that he’d get his dream come true. His only thought was about what I wanted. If I didn’t love him already, I’d have fallen for him all over again in that moment. Because he put my best interest ahead of his own. Even at significant risk to his own dreams. Even if it cost him everything and he lost thousands of dollars in the process.
“I never in a million years saw myself as a model. You made that happen. You gave me that dream. The idea that I could maybe do this. That I could take pictures. Be in a magazine. I never dreamed about more, because I didn’t think…” I let out a shaky breath, smiling tremulously. “I didn’t think I deserved it. That I was capable of more. But you gave me that dream, Chris. Don’t take it away so quickly, just because we have a new possible dream starting too. Can’t we have both dreams?”
He came around the desk and leaned back against it in front of me, gathering both of my hands in his. “The stress will be incredible. The pressure, immense.” He swallowed hard, his jaws working silently a few moments as if he had to chew up his thoughts into manageable pieces. “I’m fucking terrified, Shel. If anything happened to you because of my ego, not even Derek will be able to save me this time.”
CHRIS
I’d been in vicious firefights in the middle of the barren wastelands. I’d gone down in a helicopter and walked away from it with just a few scratches. I’d deliberately gone to the seediest bars on the most dangerous streets in every big city between New York and Chicago, trying to find someone with big enough balls to kill me.
But nothing had ever really scared me.
Until I thought about losing this woman. Watching her be hurt or scared or sad. Filled with grief that turned to bitterness and rage when she realized the truth.
That I had put her in the path of that sadness. I had put her at risk.
I’d rather put a bullet in my skull right now and save her that pain.
Nothing, absolutely nothing, was as important as keeping her safe. Fuck it all. Fuck the line. Fuck the lodge. I’d walk away from everything except my brothers to keep her safe, and if one of them hurt her, I’d fucking end them for her sake, as much as it would kill me too.
“I can do it,” Shelby said, her eyes shining with earnest hope that shredded my heart and twisted my intestines. “I want to try.”
“Just because you can doesn’t mean you should,” Everett said. “Besides, what’s one more year? Let’s plan to go next year.”
She didn’t release my hands, but turned to face him, her chin tipping up with determination. “Because next year I might have a few-months-old baby that I won’t want to drag on a plane or leave in a hotel room with a nanny while we do this. I might still be so big that none of the dresses will fit me anymore. Or one of my other kids may need special care or education after the move up here. Or Granny may need me to be near in case her time is up.”
“I can fix the dresses,” I said gruffly, trying to change her mind without upsetting her.
Though she whipped her head back to me, eyes narrowed. “Fix is not the same as your original vision. You’ve helped me be more confident with my body as it is, but a third pregnancy may wreak havoc on my stomach that no amount of fixing will be able to hide. Rather than risk compromising your vision, we could do the show now and have a year of success ahead of any complications I might have.”
Derek snorted. “You’re gorgeous no matter what. That’s his vision. A woman with generous curves. A lush mother’s body. Nothing’s going to change that. I don’t care how much your body changes with another pregnancy.”
“Ditto.” I deliberately used my meanest, hardest voice, glaring down at her. “You don’t have a single fucking flaw. I design to you. To your perfection. Not the other way around.”
Her mouth softened, her eyes shining with so much love and hope and pure light that I almost fell down on my knees and begged her to marry us right now. I didn’t want to wait a single heartbeat to make her ours.
“So that’s a yes?”
Her words jolted through me. I clenched my jaws, fighting down the immediate refusal that threatened to tear out of me. If she lost this baby because of the stress… Or if her health deteriorated… But if she wanted to try…?
I wanted to fucking pound out this furious fear for a couple of hours in the gym before I answered her.
“Complications happen all the time,” she continued. “I had a miscarriage in between Liam and Allie. That’s why they’re so many years apart. I was heartbroken, of course. I felt horrible, like I’d done something to cause it. Maybe I should have worked less. Maybe I should have tried to get Rob to take care of Liam more. Or found a way to get more help with him. Something. Anything that might have changed things.
“But my doctor said that was ridiculous. Women’s bodies are miraculous. We are built to carry life, yes, but we should keep on living, too. We have families and jobs and hopes and dreams that must go on. Even if I stop doing everything, let you all take care of my kids, and stayed in bed for the next nine months, I could still have complications. Nothing is guaranteed. I’d much rather wear some heels, a pretty dress, and a shit-ton of makeup, and practice walking in a straight line or smiling at a camera, than carry hot plates and wait on rude customers. Which is exactly what I did the other two times I was pregnant, right up to the day I delivered.”
Everett leaned over closer to her and tipped his head down to hers. “You’re one amazing woman.”
Her cheeks pinkened and she gave a little shrug. “All women are amazing.”
My heart felt sore and bruised. As if I’d fallen out of a helicopter at a hundred feet and then been trampled by a herd of horses. I let out a sour grunt of defeat, because no way could I deny her. Not when she was right.
Her shining eyes locked on me again. “Yes?”
“I have a few conditions first.” I waited until she nodded, determined to be a hard ass in at least this. “Only if your doctor signs off on it. You don’t have any issues and nothing new comes up. We limit the hours you’re on your feet. We never work for more than two hours at a time. And I reserve the right to unilaterally pull the plug at any time if I feel that you’re too tired or too stressed out. So that means rest, eat, meditate, yoga, whatever shit you need to do to stay calm and happy. I mean it, Shel. I’ll fucking end this show before it even begins if I even get a hint that you’re not okay.”
She leaned forward enough to fling her arms around my neck. “Agreed.”
Squeezing her too tightly, I breathed in the scent of her hair. Drank in the feel of her arms around me. And fought the urge to sweep her up into my arms and carry her to the car.
So we could get her home. To Canyon Rock. Our bed.
10
Shelby
I’d thought taking pictures and changing clothes a thousand times had been hard. Practicing a runway walk was way worse.
How hard could it be? All I had to do was walk in a straight line. While not looking down at a narrow strip that I was supposed to stay in. While wearing ten-inch-tall heels (so it seemed) and a super tight dress. While trying to look sexy and sultry and easy.
It wasn’t easy. Far from it.
After thirty minutes of walking back and forth in heels, my calves were aching, the balls of my feet were on fire, and my forehead was sweaty. Worse, Chris glowered from the sidelines and Derek’s cop eyes didn’t miss a beat. I’d been walking back and forth for a few minutes to dead silence, and it dawned on me that they might actually be testing me.<
br />
I had to be true to my word. If I was tired, I needed to take a break. Though this tiredness had nothing to do with an early pregnancy in the slightest. I just hadn’t worn heels since those parties Mom used to take us to before I married Rob.
Turning to face the five men—since Kaleb had joined us after working in his garage for a while—I gave them a weary smile. “Break time. I think that’s enough heels for the day or my feet will never forgive me.”
Immediately, I had four sets of hands reaching for me or the nearest chair or the pitcher full of ice water. I sat down gratefully and accepted a fresh glass of water. I wasn’t usually a big water drinker, but Sally had been sending pitchers of water infused with different fruit and fresh herb combinations that tasted incredible. This one was blackberries and mint with a hint of lemon. So good.
“Well done.” Paolo clapped his hands and joined me at the table. “You’re already improving considerably. Muscle aches aren’t uncommon for new models. I’m told that Epsom salt soaks will help with any leg cramps.”
“Is that safe?” Everett asked. “I’ll add it to the list to ask the doctor at your appointment. Don’t forget the spa should be up and running soon too. You can go by for a foot soak anytime you need it.”
“As long as I don’t get the water too hot, it should be fine.”
Kaleb shared a concerned glance with his brother. “I didn’t even think of that. Hot water is bad? We need to ask Angela for a list of what to avoid.”
“No, you won’t,” I retorted. “At least not yet. I don’t want everyone knowing already. Besides, I’ve done this twice already, remember? I know my body. I know what’s safe to do. A nice warm bath with Epsom salts sounds wonderful tonight.”
I had a feeling they were all going to be Googling or calling the doctor every time I sneezed or winced, even if it was a splinter. Rolling my eyes, I set the glass back down and determinedly ignored them, focusing instead on Paolo. “So my walk is better?”