by Jen Talty
She shook her head. “I didn’t trap you. I didn’t get pregnant on purpose to steal this farm. It belongs to you and your family.”
He pointed to her stomach and she immediately wrapped her arms around herself.
“That’s my family,” he said. “Therefore the farm belongs to you.”
She shook her head. “You don’t get it, do you? The farm will never be mine. Your father set it up that way. It’s yours. Then your child’s. Yeah, sure, he’s taking care of me. But I will never own this place. Never.”
“Of course he’ll take care of you. You’re the mother of his grandchild, which you told him before me.”
“Grow up,” she said.
“For years, I thought my mother died in a car accident. It was devastating to learn that my father lied to me about how she died. Worse, when you had known she’d committed suicide for our entire relationship and never told me. This doesn’t really feel any different.” He closed the door to the stall, giving Boots one more treat, then closed the gap, standing in her personal space. “I know I didn’t make this easy on you by ignoring your calls and texts.” He stood so close she could feel his hot breath on her lips. “I should have answered you and I do feel bad about that, but it doesn’t change the fact I’m annoyed my dad knew before me.”
“I had no intention of telling Ethan about the baby first. I have waves of nausea or morning sickness. He found me one morning hovered over a garbage can in my office. You were nowhere to be found. I felt alone and scared. I wanted someone to talk to and he was there.” She chomped down on her lower lip, her gaze locked with his. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t turn away. She contemplated lying, because she wasn’t sure he’d believe the truth. But lies are what drove them apart. “I was only eighteen when I found out about how your mother died. I know it was wrong, but we had barely begun out relationship and—”
“Damn right it was wrong,” he said. “We broke up because you kept that secret from me for nearly five years. It still blows my mind you could do that, especially when I started asking questions about it. You know how much my mother meant to me.”
“I wanted to tell you, but I was young and didn’t want to be the one to hurt you with the truth. I begged your father, but he thought it would destroy you and I believed him.” She took a long breath. “I’m sorry I kept that from you and I don’t want any more lies or secrets.”
He raised his hand, pressing it against the wood frame next to her head. She blinked a few times before closing her eyes. His palm cupped her cheek. It felt warm and tender as she leaned into him. His calloused hands prickled across her skin. His thumb wiped away the few tears that had escaped. “What aren’t you telling me?” Gently, he tugged her baseball cap off.
“He doesn’t want you to know.”
“I can’t protect you if I don’t know what’s going on.”
If she wanted any chance of any kind of decent friendship with him for the sake of her child, then she had to betray Ethan and tell Jake. “He’s dying,” she whispered.
“Doctors said he was going to pull through.”
“Not from the lye poisoning.” She shook her head. “He has liver cancer. Stage four. Inoperable and he won’t fight it, even though there are some new treatments.”
“Christ.” He dropped his forehead to hers. “How long does he have?”
“A few months. A year, tops. But with the poisoning, probably less.”
His lips brushed against her temple with a feather touch. “You knew about this when you came to see me this last time?”
She opened her eyes. He stood so close, yet he felt a million miles away. “He didn’t tell me until I told him about the baby.”
“Does he plan on telling me?”
“Not right away,” she admitted.
“This why I left in the first place.” He pushed off the wall and turned his back, hands on his hips. She wanted to reach out and touch him. Hold him. His life had been turned upside down in less than a day and essentially it was all her fault.
“I appreciate you telling me. But does my dad even understand that by not telling me, he’s making choices for me. It’s a manipulation and I’m tired of it.”
“I know,” she said. “No more lies.”
“Hard to believe you,” he said. “I want to. I really do. But it always comes down to my father. Every time you came to see me, it was about my father. The farm. The legacy.”
“That’s not true,” she said. “I came to you the day we conceived, like every other time. To ask you once again to come home. To come back to me.”
He turned. His face contorted from the pain in his side as he groaned, grabbing his ribs. “What? You never asked…not once did you mention us getting back together.”
“It was easier to talk about your father than swallowing my own pride and beg you to come back to me,” she said.
“Unbelievable.” He glared at her. “How do you expect me to take that when this is the first in nine years I’m hearing it? If you wanted us to get back together, you should have said something.”
She laughed dryly. “Right, because your ultimatum would have somehow miraculously changed. And it wasn’t just the all or nothing attitude, it’s that you wouldn’t even listen to a possible solution.”
He opened his mouth, but then snapped it shut.
“I don’t want to fight.”
“Neither do I,” he said. “It’s been a long day. We’re both tired. We can talk in the morning.”
She locked the office door with a heavy heart. There were still a few more truths she was going to have to tell Jake, but it wouldn’t be tonight. Jake said goodnight to a very tired horse. “He hasn’t run like that in years,” she said.
“We’re both going to be very sore tomorrow morning.” Jake reached out and laced his fingers through her hand. She tugged, but he didn’t let go. “I’m here. I’m staying at the cabin. People are going to talk. Let’s give them something to talk about.”
“You always did like to stir the pot.”
Chapter 4
THE INCESSANT BUZZING of Jake’s iPhone alarm echoed across the room, but every time he moved, pain jabbed into his side. Along with his aching muscles, it made it impossible to reach across to the coffee table and shut it off. This was worse than the first week of SCUBA training, and he thought nothing on this green earth could be worse than that.
He heard Kenzie’s bedroom door smack against the wall. “Do you not know how to shut off an alarm?” Kenzie’s voice was barely audible over the full power of the standard alarm ring tone. The one meant to wake the dead.
“I’m trying.” He reached out again and the noise that came from his mouth sounded like a dying cow. His muscles pulsed and throbbed, but his side felt like a knife had just pierced one of his ribs. The only consolation was that she’d successfully shut the ringer off and now he was staring at his favorite pair of legs. He tried to raise his arm so he could at least touch her silky soft skin, but it didn’t work out too well. “I think I need a really hot shower.” A long shirt fell about six inches down her legs, showing off her lean, long, toned muscles and her supple pale skin. Years of working the farm, hidden by jeans, kept the sun from tanning her complexion. Except for her face, but she’d always tried to protect her skin. The results were positively mind blowing.
“First, you need to cover up.” She reached down and pulled the sheet over him. He didn’t even have the brain energy to be embarrassed. “I’m going to lift your arm. I want to see the damage Boots did to you.”
“Okay,” he managed. “If I cry like a baby, it’s all your fault.”
The lifting of his arm wasn’t so bad, but when he looked down and saw how the bruise wrapped around from his side to his chest, the pain came back tenfold. Gently, he stretched out his legs, letting his feet hang as he pushed himself to a sitting position, wrapping the sheet around him. He raised his other arm, and ran his hand across the bruise. Tender, but not horrible. He increased the pressur
e. He didn’t know what hurt more. His rib, or the bicep of his other arm. But what really sucked was the world's sexiest legs had been removed from his eyesight. “Where’d you go?”
“Getting some things to help with that bruise.”
He breathed evenly, gauging the pain with each breath. He’d had his share of broken bones, and not much you could do about a rib. As he took in a deep breath he realized the damage wasn’t as bad as it felt. He smiled when her lean thighs were right in front of him.
“I could get used to that.”
“Pain?” She laughed.
“No.” He reached out with the arm from his good side and gripped the back of her thigh, just under her ass. He squeezed, then toyed with the fabric covering her bottom. “These legs. Best things I’ve ever seen.”
Thankfully, she carefully removed his hand instead of batting it away, which would have caused fireworks to erupt in his body. “Touch me again, and I will make sure you do cry like a baby.”
“Promises, promises.” He slowly lifted his gaze up her legs, to the hem of her oversized button down white shirt. Or pajama top. Didn’t matter. But it wasn’t transparent. Which sucked. Her long brown hair flowed wildly over her shoulders. “Mind if I use all the hot water?”
“You’re not getting in that shower until I wrap those ribs.”
“Got any of that gross smelling stuff you used to make me slather all over myself after bull riding? I feel worse than the day Daisy stomped on me.”
“I thought that stupid bull had killed you.”
Jake laughed, causing him to groan in pain. “As I recall, you got so upset you barfed.”
“That’s an exaggeration,” she said. “I gagged because of whatever perfume that cowgirl was wearing churned my stomach. You know how sensitive I am to that. Makes me ill.”
“I do remember that.”
She held out a large tub of cream. “Let me wrap those ribs.”
“Normally, I’d get all manly and tell you not to bother, but no way will I be able to work unless I let you.”
She knelt on the floor in front of him. “First, I'm going to rub this on your bruise.”
“Shouldn’t I shower first?” He raised his arms to his side, and rolled his neck, his muscles starting to loosen up. She opened the tub and immediately his nostrils were assaulted with something that smelled like a combination of dirty socks and cow manure. He coughed as she dabbed some of the heat inducing cream on his side. The warmth trickled over his skin, but it was her hand that had all the healing power. He focused on her long rich hair flowing over her round perky breasts. It was a nice distraction.
“No,” she said. “The tape is water resistant and you’re not going to want to smell like this all day.”
“Won’t washing remove the power of it then?”
“No.” She laughed. “You know all this, why are you asking?”
“Taking my mind off the pain…and my crazy lustful thoughts.”
“Lustful?” She looked up at him, brushing her hair out of her eyes.
He arched a brow. “Kind of hard not to think that way when you’re down there and I’m sitting here wearing nothing but a sheet. You always gave the best—”
“You can leave that compliment right there.”
He chuckled. “What is it about you and that one sexual act?”
“Power,” she said. “But it’s time to get your mind out of the gutter.”
“Not easy when you’ve got killer legs like yours.” He took in a deep breath as she stood, then maneuvered herself on the pull-out sofa, kneeling behind him, her hands rubbing his shoulders, his back, his sides. Her deft fingers dug deeply into his aching muscles, working out the knots. “Thighs next?”
“Hah,” she said. The tape screeched as she pulled it from its container. “Arms to the side again, sailor.”
“Oh, please, talk dirty to me.”
“I guess I set myself up for that one.” She reached around under his arms, placing the sticky tape on his skin.
“Guess I’ll get a chest wax when this come off.”
“Different kind of pain,” she said. “Hold your breath and be still. I’ve got to get this tight.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He closed his eyes, holding his arms out to the side. Her hair tickled his skin each time she leaned forward, her hands guiding the tape across his chest. A vision of waking up with her in his arms the morning they’d conceived their child with her hair flowing across his body like a blanket tickled his mind. He’d allowed himself only a moment of pleasure that morning before he turned into an utter ass because he could hold a grudge longer than his horse.
He grabbed her forearms as she ripped the tape, then sealed it in the front of his chest. “I really am sorry,” he said.
“For what?”
“The way I behaved the morning after we made love. It was mean. Cruel. And wrong.”
“Thank you,” she said, trying to pull her arms from him, but he wasn’t about to let go. Her hot breath grazed his ear.
“I mean it.” He turned, lifting his legs back onto the pull out, pressing her back onto the mattress, ignoring the jabbing pain in his ribs. Her hands rested softly on his shoulders, as he pressed his knee between her legs. “If I could do that morning over again, I would.”
She opened her mouth, and even though he knew how much she hated being shushed, he quickly pressed his lips firmly against hers. Her fingers dug into his sore muscles as her hands protested, but her mouth told a different story as she met his swirling tongue with the same passion. He was aware of his aching muscles and the quick short jabs each labored breath took on his ribs, but he didn’t care. He didn’t care about anything other than this moment, until he shifted, trying to roll on top of her and a crushing pain shocked his system. He groaned, breaking off the kiss as he slid sideways.
Almost immediately, she was on her knees, heels under her butt. “You okay?”
“No,” he said. “Kissing you shouldn’t hurt so much.” He controlled his breathing so he didn’t upset the delicate balance between his ribs, muscles, and lungs. He rested a hand on her strong thigh, running his fingers up and down her silky skin. “Can I feel?” The small swell of her tummy made having a child so real it made him physically ache for human contact.
“Feel what?”
“Your stomach.”
She rolled to her ass, then lay down next to him. “Nothing to feel yet.”
“But you have a bit of a bump. I want to feel that.”
She took his hand. It didn’t go unnoticed that she trembled slightly. He stared at her hands holding his over her lower abdomen.
“No,” he whispered, sliding his hand between the buttons, popping open two. “As close to the baby as possible.” She didn’t protest. She guided his hand to a tiny bump that used to be her flat, tight abs. “Wow,” he said. “You’re getting fat already.”
“Gee, thanks,” she said. “I can’t button my jeans, but I’m hoping to get another month before we tell anyone.”
“I think we need to make an announcement. If people know, we’ll get to see how they respond to the news and it will make it easier for us to rule people out or find suspects.”
“I suppose. Going to have to tell people soon anyway.” She shifted. “I’ve got a metal rod up my ass. This has got to be the most uncomfortable pull-out in the world.”
“Probably why I couldn’t move this morning.” He continued to rub her slightly swollen belly. “I want this baby.”
She turned her head, catching his gaze. “I’m glad.”
“But there are too many unanswered questions and until I know what happened to my father, what threat there might be to you, I can’t process you, or even the baby. I need to focus on keeping you safe.”
“I get it.” She tilted her head, offering her lips, and he took them in a short, but tender kiss. “I want your help. And I need your protection,” she said. “Beyond that, neither of us knows what lies ahead. Let’s just start there.”
“I can live with that,” he said. “Your stomach really is bigger.”
“So are my boobs.”
“You don’t say.” He slid his hand up her stomach to the swell of her breast before she grabbed his wrist.
“You can touch my stomach, because that is where our baby is, but nothing else.”
“I touched your thigh and ass less than ten minutes ago.”
“Moment of weakness,” she said as she shifted from the bed. “I’ll start the shower for you, but please leave me a little hot water.”
“You could join me,” he said, half joking because he certainly wouldn’t stop her, only he wasn’t sure if he’d be able to do anything. “I could use the help.”
She laughed. It was a sweet soft sound that tickled his skin. “I’m sure you’ll manage.”
Gingerly, he rose to a sitting position, then stood, gathering the sheet around him. His thigh muscles burned. He took the tub of crappy smelling ointment along with his duffle bag and followed the sexiest pair of legs. He groaned, and it wasn’t from the pain in his side this time.
* * *
Jake’s day, thankfully, was uneventful. He had pulled over a boat load of kids, making sure no one was drinking and letting them know they had one person too many. Everything else on the boat was legal, even though he was sure everyone in the boat knew the person in the tube did count as a body. He let them go with a warning.
Other than that, he just sweated in the hot summer sun. There was no breeze on the lake, making the humidity even worse. By the time his shift ended, he was drenched in perspiration. He had planned on visiting his father in the hospital, but Kenzie had texted, letting him know his father had been released and was resting comfortably in his own bed.
He should have showered before heading to the main house, but he wanted his father to see exactly what he’d become. Understand that this is who he was and nothing was ever going to change that, even if they did manage to reconcile their differences.
His father’s bedroom door was open, but he tapped a knuckle against it anyway. His father lay in bed, head propped up on a couple of pillows. Remote in one hand, pointing it at the television as the sound changed from one channel to the next. A man, probably a little older than Jake, about the same build, and sported black rimmed glasses, stepped forward, hand stretched outward.