Twins for the Texan

by Charlene Sands

  Other than she was falling hard for the Texan, the father of twins and her unborn baby, and there was nothing she could do to stop it.

  He gave her a soft, loving kiss and murmured. “Climb into bed, sweetheart. Stay warm. I’ll be right back.”

  She was pretty sure he was going to his room to get protection. Oh, man.

  After he left, she gazed out the window at threatening stark gray clouds and the pouring rain that was keeping her trapped here. Now, that was a notion: being shut in with a gorgeous guy who you’re pretty sure is the best man you’d ever met in your life. Only he was still hung up on his late wife. And he’d made it clear in no uncertain terms, quite a few times, that having two children was quite enough for him.

  The debate in her head raged like the storm outside. She pulled the material of her robe together tightly, and crossed her arms over her chest, ready to tell Wyatt everything and pay the consequences.

  And then, there he was standing in the doorway, shirtless, bootless, in jeans riding low on his waist, holding a batch of purple-hued flowers in his hand. His hair was damp and there were raindrops sprinkled on his bare shoulders.

  “These are for you, Brooke,” he said. His eyes blazed bright blue as he sauntered over to her and set the flowers in her hand.

  “They’re beautiful,” she said. “Where did you get them?”

  “Out back. There’s a garden, and these are pretty hardy this time of year. Asters and violets. This one here is a tiger lily.”

  She stared at the flowers as he pointed them out.

  “I figured you might like them.”

  She pressed them to her chest and felt tears coming on. “I love them, Wyatt. You went out in the rain for these?”

  “You deserve them,” he said. “I, uh, wanted you to know, I’m not the jerk who ran out on you at the inn.”

  “I think I know that now.”

  As her arms slid down her sides, the robe opened again. Now both of them were standing in the middle of the room, nearly naked. He began rubbing her arms up and down briskly, getting her circulation going and heating her up inside. “I thought you’d be in bed. Aren’t you freezing?”

  “I, uh, no. You’re pretty good at keeping me warm.”

  “Ah, Brooke,” he said, circling his arms around her entire body, warming her with his own heat. “I like the sound of that.”

  And then his kisses rained down on her and for all those beautiful minutes, she kissed him back, loving the taste of him, loving the poignant sound of his passion-filled groans, loving the way he held her as though she was precious and sacred.

  They moved to the bed together, locked in each other’s arms. Wyatt gently removed the robe from her shoulders and lowered her down until the mattress met with her bare back and the pillow cradled her head. He loomed above her, all those straining muscles holding him back from crushing her with his body, and brought his mouth down to hers. He smelled of fresh rain and outdoors, and she roped her arms around his neck and played with the dark blond strands of his hair.

  He began to lightly massage her shoulders. His fingertips dug in to release tension there before he moved lower still to caress her tender breasts. Smoothing them over with gentle hands brought relief, and then he molded them with a propping motion making ready to take her into his mouth. She held her breath, waiting. And then he dipped his head and sucked on her, his tongue circling the round orb and lashing her with moisture. An almost painful pleasure coursed down to her belly, and a tiny moan escaped her lips.

  Down below, his erection strained against his jeans and ground into her body, pulsing and ready. She thrashed her head against the pillow, biting her lip as electric currents outraced her heartbeats. “Wyatt,” she breathed.

  He tore his mouth away from her now-aching breast and slid down her body, pulling her free of her panties. Lifting her legs up, he positioned himself, and the hot, wet slide of his tongue teased her core. She stilled, absorbing the sensations washing through her like waves on the ocean, one right after another, his stroking creating tingles and light shocks.

  “Oh,” she whimpered, biting her lip.

  Everything inside her tightened up and as his relentless tongue bathed her, her body absorbed the pleasure until it was too, too much. The pulses grew heavier, tighter, and then, then a spasm burst inside her and claimed her breath.

  She hurtled back down to earth, sated, her body limp and her endorphins causing the highest high.

  Wyatt released her then, his eyes glazed and hungry.

  “So good,” she said, instead of admitting it was the best.

  He brought himself up, kissed her soundly on the lips and then rolled away to unzip his jeans. “I’m glad. It was for me, too.”

  He moved his pants down his legs and a sigh escaped her throat as she caught a glimpse of him in all his glory.

  She rolled on her side and took him in her hand. “Thank you for the flowers,” she whispered, and began long, slow, deliberate strokes. He was hot silk in her hands, so smooth, so inspiring. Scooting closer, she pressed her mouth to his and began kissing him. “Lie back and enjoy.”

  And if the grunts and noisy sounds he made were any indication, she was giving Wyatt just as much pleasure as he’d given her tonight.

  “I’ll never make it,” he rasped, “if you go on doing what you’re doing.”

  He gave her no time to respond. He flipped her over onto her back then, and she was captured by the inferno in Wyatt’s eyes. With his knee, he parted her legs and rose over her. A heady rush of adrenaline pulsed through her veins. She remembered the last time they were joined; this was going to be equally good, if not better. She saw the promise in Wyatt’s eyes and believed it.

  He touched the tip of his manhood to her. “Oh, man, Brooke,” he murmured so quietly, it was more of a sigh. Her breath caught in her throat. She couldn’t manage a reply; she couldn’t utter a word. Sensations rippled through her as he pushed deeper, giving her time to adjust, time to accept him.

  She pulled him down to her mouth and kissed him. It was beautiful and crazy good and from then on, Wyatt locked in on her body and she was done for. Completely and utterly in his zone. She gave everything she had to him and then some.

  The furious passion in his eyes, his hands exploring every part of her and his magnificent erection kept her body on the brink. She was close to combusting in the very best way. He pumped and she bucked, he grated and she rubbed, he climbed and she followed.

  A vivid curse pushed from his lips and the word vibrated in her ears. Everything below her waist tightened.

  Talk dirty to me, Wyatt. I can take it.

  The fact that he’d lost a bit of control pushed her over the edge. There was nothing higher, or better, than being at this same place with him. Going the distance together.

  He lifted her hips from the bed, squeezing her cheeks tight with his powerful hands as he thrust deeper still.

  “Oh...oh, Wyatt.”

  “We’re here, Brooke.”

  Her spasms of release joined his, a continuing series of shudders and moans that filled her ears. They were in their own place now, a few moments of exquisite flurry shared equally. Her heart was racing like mad, her body tight.

  Wyatt kissed her gently, his hands softly tangling in her hair as he whispered sweet words in her ear. When he lifted up and moved beside her on the bed, his heat evaporated and cool air touched her skin. But it didn’t matter; she was flushed and hot enough to warm up Wyatt’s entire ranch house.

  Wyatt brushed hair from her cheeks. “You’re beautiful, Brooke.”

  If he kept saying it, she might just believe it.

  “And this was...”

  He didn’t finish. Brooke understood his dilemma, how he must be feeling. What happened between them was better than good, better than great. It was fr
eaking amazing. But Wyatt’s admitting that would be disrespectful to Madelyn in his eyes. That had to be it.

  Right now, as she came down from the most satisfying blissful sex of her life, she didn’t want to think too much. She hugged a pillow to her chest and faced him. “Wyatt, you don’t have to say anything. I think we both know.”

  He stared up at the ceiling and when she thought he’d checked out, he slipped his hand over hers and held on until her eyes closed and she drifted off.

  * * *

  Wyatt was sex-starved and Brooke’s appearance in his life was a scratch to his itch. Or so he thought. But as he lay beside her on the bed they’d shared last night, watching her chest rise and fall in deep slumber, the rosy hue he’d put on her face making her appear even more beautiful, he realized he was full of crap.

  He wasn’t going to get her out of his system anytime soon.

  He wanted her here. But as Sunday morning dawned, the worst of the storm was gone, leaving only a light drizzle in its place that would slow to a stop sometime this afternoon. Texas sunshine would dry the land, and the bridge would be repaired and drivable again. By tomorrow, Brooke would be heading away from Blue Horizon Ranch and he would have to let her go.

  As she rolled over, the sheet covering her fell away and her breasts teased his chest. The gentle scraping of her nipples stirred everything male inside him. Shoot. He was hard again and ready to take her once more.

  Lazy eyes opened to him and she smiled. It was a sweet, aftermath-of-good-loving smile that tugged at his heart. She blew her messy brown locks out of her eyes on a soft puff of breath.

  “Mornin’,” he croaked.

  She chuckled, stretching her arms over her head. “Yes, it is,” she said on a long, sexy sigh. “You look good enough to eat, Wyatt.”

  His lips curved up in a smile. Brooke always surprised him. “I was thinking the same about you.”

  She rose on her elbows, and his gaze drifted to her small, round, perfect breasts. “Have you checked on the babies?” she asked.

  “I have. Ten minutes ago. They’re asleep.”

  “Is it still raining?” she asked, taking a peek out the window.

  “Yep, drizzling.”

  “Guess you’re stuck with me another day.”

  “Guess so.” He leaned in, inches from her mouth, and whispered, “It’s a hardship.”

  She tried to swat at him, but he was too fast and caught her wrist midmotion. “Now that I’ve snagged you, what will I do with you?”

  “Whatever you want,” she said coyly.

  He snapped his eyes to her. “God, Brooke. You’re killing me.”

  “Am I?” she asked, her smile gone, her dark brown eyes soft and steady on him.

  “Yeah.”

  She looked under the sheet draped at his waist. “You seem very much alive from where I’m sitting.”

  “I am alive, when I’m with you.” Rising over her, her pinned her arms above her head and held her there. Her lips parted slightly, and the intake of her breath told him she wanted him again. There would be no protest, and he wasn’t gonna leave this bed without making love to her again.

  One minute later, his cell phone buzzed. He had a mind to ignore it. But he gazed over at the lit-up screen on the nightstand and bit back a curse. It was his mother again. Man, she had bad timing. He’d dodged her call the other night and managed to leave her a voice mail afterward telling her everything was all right.

  But Mom was nothing but persistent.

  Brooke looked at the phone. “It’s your mother. You should answer it, Wyatt. She’s probably worried about the kids and the storm.”

  He backed away from Brooke and sat up on the bed, gritting his teeth. “Yeah, you’re right. I’m sorry I have to get this.”

  “It’s okay,” Brooke assured him.

  “Don’t move a muscle. Not an inch. Okay?” he asked.

  Her arms were above her head, her breasts exposed and gorgeous. “I promise.”

  Releasing a low guttural groan from his throat, he picked up the phone, walked out of the room and ducked into another bedroom.

  “Yeah, hi, Mom.”

  “Wyatt. I’ve been trying to reach you. Is everything all right? The storm is all over the news here in New York. Lord, I remember those hurricanes. I know how dangerous they can be. How are my grandbabies?”

  “The babies are fine. We’re staying in and the storm’s ready to pass. Did you get my message?”

  “Yes, but, honey, I needed to speak with you in person. You have to understand how I worry. I haven’t seen Brett and Brianna in months. You know that I was planning on coming to Texas for the cancer foundation’s big fund-raiser in Dallas, right?”

  “Yes, I know, Mom.”

  “And I was going to come to the ranch for a visit after that?”

  “Uh-huh.” He began to feel an ache in the pit of his stomach. Something was up with her, and he wasn’t going to like it.

  “Well, my plans have changed. I’ll be coming to Blue Horizon before the fund-raiser, rather than after. I should arrive day after tomorrow. I’ll stay about a week.”

  His heart stopped. He’d thought he had at least a month before she arrived. “What?”

  “Sorry for the short notice, but it’s just worked out better this way.”

  “For who?” he asked.

  “Now, Wyatt, you know I have a busy schedule. You’re all alone there, except for my Henrietta, and well, I miss the babies so. Have you managed to find a nanny yet?”

  “It’s in the works, Mom. I’m getting close.” It was a lie. He had some interviews scheduled, but nothing was concrete yet.

  “That’s what you said the last time we spoke. And poor Henrietta is being run into the ground trying to keep pace with my precious grandkids. Honey, I know you don’t think I’d do a good job, but my offer still stands. I’ll come back to Texas to live. I’m willing to help out. There’s nothing I’m doing here that can’t be postponed or canceled if you really need me.”

  Wyatt always thought her offer was an idle threat, but lately, she’d been speaking more and more about moving back to Texas and leaving high society behind to care for her grandchildren. It was an offer that he’d patiently and tactfully refused on several occasions.

  She’d hate it here. Genevieve Brandt wasn’t meant for country living, and when Wyatt was growing up, she’d reminded him and his father daily of the sacrifice she’d made for love. She was a city girl, through and through. As soon as his father retired from Blue Horizon, she’d dragged him off the ranch and moved him to her hometown and the faster-paced city life of New York. George Taylor Brandt passed on three years ago, and Wyatt was convinced that if he’d stayed on the ranch he loved after his retirement, he would still be alive today.

  “Mom, we’re managing just fine.” It was a blatant lie.

  “We’ll see, honey,” she said, a dubious tone in her voice. “I can’t wait to see you and the babies.”

  “Uh, same here, Mom.”

  After the call ended, Wyatt stared at the phone as dozens of thoughts filled his head. He had to do right by his kids. But having his mother move in with him wasn’t the answer. Oh, yeah, he loved her. She’d been a good mother, and she did adore his children, but she was also high-maintenance and somewhat self-centered. And she would drive him absolutely nuts.

  He shook his head and remembered Brooke, the stunner he had waiting for him in bed just steps away. She, too, drove him nuts, in another way entirely.

  He left all that behind and returned to the bedroom.

  “What’s wrong?” Brooke asked the second he walked in. She read his expression and must’ve seen his concern.

  He sat down on the bed and ran a hand through his hair, staring at the opposite wall. “You don’t want to hear it.”


  “Sure I do.” She covered up and took a place next to him on the bed.

  “My mother is coming for a visit.”

  “That’s a good thing, isn’t it?”

  “It is if it was only that. But I get the feeling she’s coming to check up on me and the kids. And if she doesn’t like what she sees, she might just stay on to help out.”

  He shuddered and Brooke bit back a laugh.

  “It’s not funny,” he said, focusing on the Dalí print on the wall.

  “I know.” He appreciated that she managed not to chuckle again, though he must’ve looked pretty comical, sitting almost buck naked on the bed, twitching because his mother was coming for a visit.

  “I’ve been trying to find just the right nanny to relieve Henrietta of her duties. A new housekeeper I can always find, but a nanny, someone to watch my kids all day, that person has to be special. And I haven’t had any luck finding anyone that meets my requirements.”

  Someone who could stand in for Madelyn.

  “Sorry, Wyatt. Those children are treasures and they do deserve someone special.” Brooke laid her hand on his shoulder, and her warmth and comfort seeped into his skin. Her touch, or maybe just having her understand his situation, helped a great deal. With Brooke beside him, he didn’t feel quite so alone and devastated.

  He covered her hand and turned to give her a smile.

  When she returned the smile, his body stirred and his mouth sought hers again. Kissing her helped untangle his mind, and he indulged over and over again. It seemed that he needed lots of untangling. And when kissing wasn’t enough, he pushed her down onto the bed, pulled off the sheets and fell headlong into Brooke’s willing arms.

  Making love to Brooke McKay was the best medicine for what ailed him.

  * * *

  “I’ll do it,” Brooke announced, coming to stand over Wyatt on the bed. He looked edible, lying with his arms over his head, his eyes still dusted with sleep and his luscious muscled chest calling for her touch. Dawn was long since gone. She’d just finished checking on the twins. They rustled about and made sweet noises, on the verge of waking. Any second now, they’d be up and ready to start the day, and she and Wyatt wouldn’t have a moment to gather their thoughts. That’s when the idea came to her. She wasn’t ready to leave Blue Horizon yet. She needed more time with Wyatt. “I’ll stay on during your mother’s visit and pretend to be the twins’ nanny.”