Texas Roses (The Devil's Horn Ranch Series)

by Samantha Christy

  “Can we have the results tomorrow?” he asks. “I looked it up, and it says they can come back quickly.”

  “First of all, what you saw was probably for the do-it-yourself kits. Because you need this for legal purposes, we need to go through different channels. And with labor shortages all over the country, it could take even more time.”

  “How much time are we talking?” Quinn asks. “A week?”

  “I’d say you’re looking at two or three at least.”

  Quinn sits, looking horrified. “At least? I can’t keep her for three weeks. This was supposed to be settled this week.”

  “Josie’s mother?” Dr. Johansen asks.

  “She left,” I say. “She’s trying to have her parental rights terminated. We’ve tried a dozen times to reach her.”

  She smiles sadly at Josie. I wonder if anyone smiled at me like that when I was an infant. The nurse who took me from Piper maybe.

  “Does she have extended family?”

  I question Quinn with my eyes.

  “How am I supposed to know?” he says. “We were together the one time. I didn’t even know her last name until I saw it on the birth certificate.”

  “My suggestion?” the doctor says. “Try to find them. However this turns out, you need them. If you’re not Josie’s father, you can surrender the child to them, and they can be her guardians. If you are, you’ll want Josie to know her mother’s family.”

  “You’ll call as soon as you get the results?” I ask.

  “They don’t send them to me, only to you.”

  “Send them, as in an email?”

  “As in snail mail. You’ll need it for any legal proceedings.”

  Quinn throws up his hands. “Great. That’ll add even more time.”

  “I’m sorry,” the doctor says. “I wish I could help.” She hands Quinn a business card. “If you have any medical issues with Josie between now and then, feel free to contact me. And if she does end up in your custody, you’ll want to bring in her medical records.”

  I strap Josie into her car seat. “Thank you, Doctor. Quinn would thank you too, but he’s a bit overwhelmed at the moment.”

  “Understandable. Hang in there, you two.”

  She leaves the room. Quinn immediately gets out his phone. “We should have looked for her grandparents days ago.” I peek over his shoulder as he types her name. She has a unique name, Minchion, so it shouldn’t be hard to find relatives. Still, there aren’t many hits. But he does come across a news article. “Just fucking great,” he says. “Scott and Rachael Minchion died in a boating accident four years ago along with a family friend. The only survivor was their twenty-one-year-old daughter, Michelle.”

  “Does it say anything about other family?”

  “No.”

  “Maybe you can hire someone to find them. Could be she has aunts or uncles.”

  He sends a text.

  “Who was that to?”

  “Andie. I asked her for the name of the babysitting service she mentioned the other day. If we’re stuck with a baby for weeks, we’ll need one.”

  “Those can be pretty expensive.” I roll my eyes when I realize what I said.

  “At this point, I’ll pay for Mary friggin’ Poppins as long as I don’t have to be Daddy goddamn Daycare.”

  I grin. “That’s the first time you’ve called yourself a daddy.”

  He shakes his head. “I didn’t mean anything by it.”

  “Come on. I’m sure they need the exam room.” We get up to leave, and he walks to the door. “Quinn, you forgetting something?”

  He steps over and lifts the car seat. “I just want all this to be over.”

  In the truck on the way home, Quinn’s phone rings. He puts it on the car speaker.

  “Mr. Thompson? This is Carol Handler. I’m from Nanny Specialists. I got a message to call you. You’re in need of a nanny?”

  “Immediately.”

  “How many hours per week and what times?”

  “All of them.”

  She laughs. “Well, we don’t really work that way, although you’re free to hire multiple nannies to cover more hours. But unless you work out of town, I would suggest you try to spend as much time with your child as possible.”

  “She’s not—”

  “Ms. Handler,” I say. “We’d be most grateful if you can send over a few candidates for us to interview.”

  “No need,” Quinn says. “I’ll take whoever can get here the fastest.”

  “Don’t listen to him. We’d like to interview at least two or three if you have them.”

  “Of course. With so many people working from home these days, the demand for nannies has gone down. I’m sure I can send over a few.”

  “Today?” Quinn asks.

  “I’ll have to check with them, but I’ll try to make it happen. Do you wish to discuss their hourly wage and our fee?”

  “No,” he says. “Please call me as soon as you can arrange something.”

  “Will do. I’ll speak with you soon.”

  He hangs up. “What the hell do we care who watches her? I’m sure they all go through background checks and shit with the agency.”

  “I’m sure they do. Still, you don’t want to leave Josie in the hands of just anyone.”

  He laughs. “Why not? Her mother did.”

  “You may not be just anyone, Quinn.”

  “Whatever. I hope they can get someone out this afternoon.”

  I scoot as close as I can get and put my hand on his thigh. “It’ll be okay, you know.”

  “What will?”

  “All of it.”

  Chapter Twenty-three

  Quinn

  The second of three nannies, a dude, sits on the couch. I stare at him. “Just to be clear, why do you want this job? Couldn’t find anything else?”

  He chuckles. “I know, I’m a man in a predominantly female profession. But I love kids. I’m the third youngest of ten. Eight girls. Two boys. And I don’t want to do this because I failed at everything else. I have a degree in early childhood education. I tried teaching for a few years, but I realized my resources would be better spent concentrating on one child, or one family, rather than thirty of them. I think it’s important for every child to have quality one-on-one time with both parents and caregivers.”

  I shake my head. “I don’t get it.”

  “You’re a big guy,” Dave says. “You’ve got the cowboy hat and the muscles, and you probably love working this ranch. I’m not built that way. I’m a nurturer. Imagine if every man wanted to be a cowboy. Humanity should consider itself lucky that we don’t all have the same aspirations. Do you have any actual questions for me about infant care?”

  “I think we’re done here,” I say. “I have your application from the agency. We’ll be in touch.”

  Dave shakes my hand and leaves, head hanging. He knows as well as I do I won’t be hiring him.

  Amber stands with her arms crossed, looking pissed. “You’re ruling him out because he’s a man?”

  “It’s weird.”

  “What do you care, Quinn? You’ve said a thousand times you don’t want this, so what’s the big deal with who watches her?”

  I look at Josie, sleeping in the swing. I don’t care. I don’t. I just think she deserves someone… motherly.

  Amber motions to the door. “And he’s a far notch better than the woman who reeked of cigarettes but claimed she doesn’t smoke.”

  He throws his hands up. “Fine. If the next one doesn’t work out, we’ll call him back. Happy?”

  “Yes.”

  On cue, there’s a knock on the door. Amber answers, and in walks an attractive young woman. “Hi,” she says jubilantly. “I’m Sophie, better known as ‘Sosi’ to the toddlers. Nice to meet you.” She beelines to Josie in the swing. “Your baby is adorable. Six weeks?”

  “How’d you know?” I ask.

  “This isn’t my first rodeo, cowboy.”

  Amber’s eyebrows shoot
up.

  “This is Josie,” I say. “You should know this is most likely a temporary gig. Three weeks, maybe.”

  Josie wakes. Sophie asks, “May I?” I nod. She picks her up and talks to her in some barely recognizable baby language. “Don’t you just love that baby smell?”

  “I… I wouldn’t know.”

  Amber scans Sophie’s resume. “It says here you’ve worked for four families? That seems like a lot considering how young you are.”

  “I’m twenty-two,” she says. “Legally, I don’t have to tell you that, but I don’t care. I started nannying when I was eighteen. It was my neighbor’s kid. When they moved away after two years, they referred me to a friend of theirs who’d had a baby. I was Josh’s nanny for eighteen months before his parents started working from home and realized they didn’t need a nanny. Since then, I’ve worked mostly part-time for two other work-from-home families. You have no idea how hard the nanny business was hit by the pandemic. I could really use this job.”

  Josie fusses. “Want me to take her?” Amber asks.

  “No. That’s what I’m here for.” She pulls some brightly colored toys from her bag. “Don’t worry, they’ve been sanitized. Look at this, Josie. Do you like this pretty orange one?” She puts the toy up to her hand and Josie grabs it and flails it around. “I think she likes it.”

  “So no formal education?” Amber asks.

  I laugh to myself. How the tables have turned. Amber doesn’t like the fact that Sophie is young and beautiful.

  Sophie spends the next twenty minutes explaining how she reads books on childcare, attends nanny conferences, and takes infant CPR and first-aid classes every year. She hands over an extensive list of references and says she’s willing to work any hours we need, up to the forty the agency allows.

  I ask, “You wouldn’t care if one day was nine to five and the next was noon to seven?”

  “My schedule is wide open. Oh, hey, I cook too. I’d be happy to make food for everyone if I’m here over suppertime.”

  I stand. “You’re hired. Can you start right now?”

  Amber shoots me a look. “A moment, Quinn?”

  “Excuse us,” I say, walking behind Amber into the kitchen.

  She leans against the counter. “Don’t you want to check her references?”

  “I’m sure the agency already did that, but go ahead if you want to. In the meantime, she seems perfect, and she’s here and willing to work anytime we need her.”

  Amber peeks into the other room. “She’s perfect all right.”

  I chuckle and pull her against me. “You know what the best thing about having a nanny will be?”

  She pouts. “What?”

  I lean down and whisper in her ear. “It means I can take my time with you.” He moves me aside and reaches into the refrigerator for some chocolate sauce. “It means I can lick this off your body and not have to worry about the baby screaming. It means I can put my fingers inside you and find the spot that makes you shout my name.”

  A slow breath leaves her lips. She takes my hand and pulls me to the living room. “Sophie, welcome to Devil’s Horn Ranch. Josie’s stroller is right over there. We’d like you to take her for a walk. There are some paved paths around the stables and arena. Stop and watch the horses if you’d like. Josie loves horses. I introduced them all to her by name. I think she may be a cowgirl in the making. Come back in…” She looks at me.

  “An hour,” I say.

  “Is it okay if I take a bottle of water to mix with her formula in case she gets hungry?”

  “Of course,” Amber says. She races to the kitchen, fills one up, and hands it to Sophie. “And take the diaper bag in case you need to change her.”

  Sophie looks between us, surprised we’re practically pushing her out the door. “Okay then, we’ll be back in one hour. Thank you for the opportunity.”

  “Yeah, yeah. See you then.” Amber closes and locks the door behind them and jumps onto me. “You were saying?”

  I hold her by the ass and pull her against me. “Jesus, woman. If I knew hiring a nanny would get you this turned on, I’d have hired Smoky the Bear two hours ago, and I’d be balls deep inside you already.”

  “I hope you have a sweet tooth, because you’re about to get a huge fix of chocolate.”

  I carry her to the kitchen, put her down, and kiss her. She goes for my belt, but I push her hand away. “Hold on now. We’ve got a whole hour. No need to rush. I’m tired of the quickies we’ve fit in over the past few days.” I push back the hair on either side of her head and gaze into her eyes. “I’m going to take this slow. I’m going to build you up so much that by the time you come, they’ll hear you scream my name all the way over at the lodge.”

  “I like the sound of that.”

  “Do you know how much I love it when you shout my name?” I nibble on her neck. “I love it when my dick is inside you when you come, and you squeeze it with your tight walls.” I reach under her shirt, move her bra aside, and pinch her nipple. “I love it when I suck on these and you squirm beneath me.”

  I tease her with my words, my kisses, my touch.

  “Will you fuck me already?” she yells when she can’t take it anymore.

  I laugh. “And there’s my girl. I’ve missed your filthy mouth.”

  “Get out that chocolate, and my filthy mouth will see how many licks it takes to get your tootsie to pop.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  She strips naked while I get the bottle. I strip after handing it to her. I know it’s only been five days since we’ve been able to do anything like this, but it seems like forever. Having her standing in front of me like this, knowing what we’re about to do… How did I get so damn lucky? Lucky, right. Thoughts of the kid invade my mind, but they’re short-lived when Amber takes hold of my dick. She rubs me until I’m rock solid. Then she smiles up at me and drizzles it with chocolate. Holy shit. I’ve seen this stuff in porn movies. Read about it in magazines. Experiencing it is a whole new ball game.

  The first lick almost has me exploding. I grip the counter behind me and watch as she works her mouth on me like a pig on slop. It’s damn sexy. And she’s got me coming in two minutes flat.

  She wipes up and checks the time. “What’ll we do with the next fifty minutes?”

  “You leave that to me.” I lift her up and put her on the counter, the corner part where she can put a foot on either side. I spread her and admire the feast I’m about to devour. I pick up the bottle off the floor, knowing I’m going to make her last a hell of a lot longer than I did.

  I squirt a tiny bit on her neck and lick it, then I put more between her breasts. It drips down onto her stomach, and I work my tongue in an upward line until I’ve erased every bit of it. Her breathing becomes quick and ragged. I push her back at an angle and drop chocolate on each stiff nipple, then lap it up.

  “Oh, god,” she utters.

  I wink. “Payback is divine, isn’t it?”

  “Quinn, if you don’t make me come soon, I’m going to hurry it along.”

  “Nuh-uh.” I rub her clit with my thumb. “This is mine. The only fingers touching you there today belong to me.”

  When I squirt chocolate on her pussy, not much comes out. “Shit.” I shake it and get out the last little bit. “Empty.”

  “Eat it already,” she says with a desperate stare. She throws the empty bottle on the floor. “Then find something else.”

  I feast on the chocolate. I feast on her. I’m driving her crazy. And my erection is back, already wanting more. I stick two fingers inside her, just how I know she likes it, and find the spot. Her hips lift off the counter. She’s going to come in about five seconds. I nibble on her clit, knowing she’ll shout even louder. She does, and it’s spectacular. The way her walls squeeze my fingers. How my name rolls off her lips. How she bucks into me, working every last pulse from her orgasm.

  I pull a towel from a drawer and wipe my mouth. Then I search for more food substances. I pull ho
ney from the cabinet and hold it up.

  “Too sticky.”

  I narrow my brows. “Just how many times have you done this?”

  “Never. But everyone knows honey is sticky. Plus, it’s full of sugar, and I’d rather not get a yeast infection.” She nods to the empty bottle on the floor. “Sugar-free only. What else you got?”

  I peek in the fridge and freezer. “Ice cream?”

  “Messy. They might be back before we have time to clean it up. Maybe save that for next time.”

  “Next time?”

  “You thought this was a one-time buffet?”

  “Shit, woman, I love—” I quickly stop myself and reach in the fridge. “Whip cream. I love whip cream, you?”

  She stiffens and eyes me strangely. Did I almost fuck up in the most monumental way? It’s way too soon to go throwing around words like love. Hell, I’m not even sure that’s what this is. I have zero reference. When I squirt whip cream on her breasts, her face relaxes. I lick it off and try to forget where my brain was trying to take me.

  “There are other places you can put that, you know,” she says.

  I raise a brow.

  She hops off the counter, turns around, and wiggles her perfect ass at me.

  “Oh, hell yes,” I say and squirt a trail down her lower back all the way down to her crack.

  The taste of Amber mixed with the fluffy cream is a delicacy I’ll not soon forget. I spread her cheeks and do something I never thought I’d do, spray food on a girl’s butthole. When my tongue rims the pucker of her ass, she moans. I do it again and she moans louder. I stick a finger inside, remembering how she said she liked it. Some girls don’t. I personally think it’s hot as hell. I’m hard as steel, and I really want to know what it’s like to fuck her there. Even with the sheer number of women I’ve been with, it’s never happened. Quick and dirty, in and out, wham bam—I get my rocks off and I’m done. Amber is different. I want to experience everything with her, every goddamn inch of her body.