High Country Baby
Page 11
She moved her hand in between them and covered the bulge in his jeans. He wanted her as badly as she wanted him.
Clint left her for a moment to stack up some bales of sweet-smelling alfalfa. At first, she didn’t know why he’d stopped their lover’s moment to do that, but then Clint led her over to the bales of hay stacked waist high against the wall and she understood exactly what he intended to do.
The cowboy lifted her up onto the top bale, slid his hands under her skirt, hooked his fingers onto the waistband of her panties, and then pulled them down her legs and over her boots. With a look that could only be described as devilish, Clint tucked her panties into the front pocket of his jeans before he unbuttoned and unzipped his jeans.
“Are you sure nobody can come in?” she asked urgently.
Clint gently pushed her knees apart, stepped between her open thighs and guided his shaft to the center of her body with his hand. And, then, just like that, so quick and so quiet, Clint was inside of her.
“God...damn.” The cowboy pressed himself as deep inside of Taylor as he could get.
Taylor tried to stifle the sounds of pleasure that were in her throat. She hugged Clint tightly and kissed him.
“Hold on to me.” Clint ordered in a gravelly voice as he braced his body by pressing his palms against the wall behind them.
A second after he growled his command, Clint began to love her with fervor and an intensity that was beyond her experience. It was hard and fast and demanding and urgent; all she could do was hold on to his body and let him take her for the ride of her life. The sensation of his hard, thick shaft sliding in and out of her slick center, again and again and again, brought her to a quick peak.
“Ah...ah...ah!”
When Clint heard Taylor start her sweet whimpering, he pounded into her body harder, deeper and faster until he was ready to join her. He grabbed her round bottom, pulled her into his groin and exploded. Breathless and stunned by what had just happened, Taylor could feel each shudder of Clint’s body as he found his release.
Clint reached back to the wall and held himself up until he could catch his breath.
“I suppose this means the deal’s still on?” Taylor asked with a breathy laugh.
Clint pulled up his pants with an odd look on his face that she couldn’t quite read. Instead of trying to decode the cowboy, she held out her hand.
“Panties, please.”
They both finished dressing—Clint zipped up his pants and buckled his belt buckle while she pulled her panties back on.
“I’ve got to get back before someone notices I’ve gone missin’.” He unlocked the door.
“Wait—don’t you think we should talk?”
“Leave your door unlocked.” The cowboy said before he opened the door. “We’ll talk tonight.”
Chapter Ten
“A bed beats the ground, hands down.” Taylor was on her back, naked, with only a sheet covering the lower half of her body.
“Lady—you’ve got some strong-ass thigh muscles.” Clint had one arm behind his head; his free hand was on one of the thighs to which he was referring. “I felt like I was being squeezed by an incredibly sexy nutcracker.”
She laughed again and curled her body toward him; she was happy that he was with her, next to her. She had waited for hours for their rendezvous. Near midnight she had finally given up and gotten into bed. Right before she nodded off, she heard the front door open. Clint had locked the door behind him and found her in the hall. Neither one of them wanted to talk about the details of their agreement. Both of them, without discussing it, wanted to find out what it would be like to make love in a bed for the first time.
Clint, who had taken the edge off when they had their lover’s tryst in the barn, let her have her way with him. She wanted to be on top, and she wanted her pleasure slow and sensual, and she wanted multiple orgasms. And she got them. She reached one fabulous peak after another until Clint couldn’t hold off any longer. It was, for her, the most incredible, empowering lovemaking of her life.
“I stayed on longer than eight seconds.” Taylor moved her fingers through the hair on Clint’s chest.
“Hell, yeah, you did.”
She could feel Clint’s laughter beneath her fingers.
“What do you want, Clint? For what you are doing for me—or trying to do for me—what do you want?”
“So—that’s how you’re gonna do me?”
Taylor lifted her head a little. “What do you mean by that?”
“You get me into bed, ride me like a stud and then boom, right down to business.”
When she didn’t respond right away, he added. “That was a joke.”
“It was really funny,” she retorted dryly.
Clint hugged her affectionately. “You’re gonna get me yet, Taylor.”
The cowboy kissed her one last time on the lips before he untangled himself from the sheets and got out of bed.
“You’re leaving?”
He pulled his T-shirt on over his head. “Got to.”
Taylor sat up. “But we haven’t talked yet.”
“Don’t worry. We’ll get to it.”
“That’s what you said last time about this time,” she reminded him. Wasn’t it in his best interest to hammer out the details?
Taylor watched him in silhouette as he tugged his jeans on. He sat down on the bed so he could pull on his boots.
“At least tell me what you want,” she pressed.
Clint pushed his hair out of his face before he put his hat on. He leaned over and kissed her again on the lips.
“I want my truck and fifth wheel out of hock and enough money to hold me until I start winning again.”
“That’s it?”
“Well...” he added after a second or two of thought. “I suppose I could do with a new pair of boots.”
* * *
How many months of her life had she watched the calendar, praying that she wouldn’t start to feel those telltale signs that her period was a few days away? This time was different. For the first time in her life, she felt different. She wasn’t bloated, she hadn’t gotten her obligatory period pimple on her chin, she hadn’t craved chocolate, and her breasts were not sore. And, more important, she was a week overdue. True—as she had approached forty, her period was shorter and less regular, but still. It was possible that the cowboy’s super sperm had managed to do in one month what Christopher’s unambitious sperm had failed to accomplish—hit the target!
Exactly one day past the one-week mark, Taylor awakened early, sprang out of bed and raced to the bathroom. She had two early-detection pregnancy tests out of their boxes, out of the wrapping, and ready to rock and roll. Up with the toilet seat, down with the panties, Taylor sat down on the seat and grabbed the first test.
“Please, please, please be pregnant,” she said aloud.
One test down, she grabbed the second test and peed on the stick.
“Please, please, please be pregnant!”
She forced herself not to look at the results until she had finished her business in the bathroom. If she was pregnant, she didn’t want the story to her child to be that she found out about him or her next to the commode in her cousin’s guest bathroom.
Without looking at the result window for that coveted plus sign, she moved the event into the living room. The living room had a beautiful vaulted ceiling with large, rough-hewn beams and a wall of glass with a view out to a pond in the forefront and majestic mountain peaks capped with white in the distant background. It was the perfect place to find out if she had gotten the one gift that had eluded her for most of her adult life—a child.
Taylor sat down on the edge of the couch and held the two tests clutched in her hands with her eyes closed.
“Dear God—I love
you and I accept your plan for me.”
Taylor opened her eyes to face the results. She stared at the one test that was facing upward with the results window visible. After a second of staring, she turned the second test over and read that. Tears started to flow from her eyes, down her cheeks—a couple fell onto the tests, dropping with a little splash onto the clear plastic window of the results screens. Crying had always been an infrequent indulgence, but today, after getting the results from not one, but two pregnancy tests, she felt that she had earned those tears.
* * *
Compared to the two years, hours of mediation, and thousands of dollars it had taken to split assets and dissolve her marriage with Christopher, it had been ridiculously easy to strike a baby bargain with Clint. He was a simple man with simple needs, the complete opposite of her ex-husband. And that wasn’t to say that Clint was simple-minded—she had grown to understand and appreciate the cowboy’s intelligence on their journey on the CDT. He required less to live—he valued his time, his freedom and his cowboy lifestyle. Accumulating stuff wasn’t on his radar. And it occurred to her that she had quite a bit to learn from a person who could live a happy, full life that was stripped down to the necessities.
Taylor knocked on the door of Clint’s fifth-wheel trailer that, as part of their deal, had been paid off and brought back to the ranch along with the cowboy’s truck. As it turned out, the proceeds from the sale of her wedding rings had gone to a good cause—hers. She sold them and used part of the money to get Clint’s trailer and truck out of hock.
“Hey...” Clint answered the door shirtless with his wet hair slicked back from his face.
The cowboy looked over her head toward the farmhouse.
“I know.” She read his mind. “It’s broad daylight. Anyone can see me.”
“That’s about the size of it.”
“If you’re okay with it, I’m okay with it.”
“I was only thinkin’ ’bout you.”
He was someone in her life, up to date, who had consistently watched out for her. She trusted his sincerity.
“Thank you.”
He understood her concern, but she was the mistress of her own life. She hadn’t shared her baby bargain with her family, beyond her sister, because it was personal and really none of their business. When it was the right time to tell them, she wouldn’t hesitate to do it. Good or bad, she had always stood by her decisions.
“You’re my friend and I want to see your home.”
He met her eyes, took a second to think and then backed away from the door so she could come in. Taylor stepped up into the trailer and was met with a compact, fully functional kitchen with an island and black granite countertops.
“I’m surprised.” Her eyes wanted to look everywhere. “It’s a lot bigger than I thought it would be.”
“Grab a seat anywhere.” Clint pointed to the living area to the left of the kitchen. “I’ll get back with you in a minute.”
Clint headed to the other end of the trailer where Taylor assumed the bedroom was housed, while she headed to the living room and dining area. The inside of the trailer was clean and updated and organized. Clint had always presented as a ragtag cowboy—this was unexpected. In the carpeted living area were two reclining chairs, a big-screen TV, a small desk and a couch next to a dining set that seated four. Taylor looked around and finally decided to take a seat at the table.
Clint reappeared wearing a fresh white T-shirt. His hair was pulled back into a ponytail.
“You want somethin’ to drink? A beer?”
“I wouldn’t mind some water.” Her mouth felt dry.
He joined her at the table with a bottle of water for her and a bottle of beer for himself.
“You okay?” Clint asked her after he took a swig of his beer.
She nodded her head and gestured to his trailer with her finger. “I like your place.”
“Thank you.” His eyes moved around his home. “It would’ve been auctioned if it weren’t for you.”
“Well...I’m glad that you got your home back.”
“I got my life back because I met you,” Clint told her plainly. “I thought I’d flat run outta luck.”
Their eyes met. “Me, too.”
There was a break in the conversation. Clint drank his beer while she mustered the nerve to say what she had come to say.
“I know you want to get back on the rodeo circuit as soon as you can.”
Clint went to the kitchen to get another beer. “Maybe next year. I’m not leavin’ until we see our deal through.”
“Well...” Taylor pulled a check out of her pocket and slid it across the table to him. “I think you’re going to get back to it a lot sooner than that.”
He picked up the check and looked at it before he put it upside down on the table.
“I’m pregnant.”
She smiled shyly at him—she didn’t really know how he would take the news.
“I’m pregnant.” She repeated the words more strongly. “I thought you should be the first to know.”
Nothing could prepare him for this moment. He’d made a deal with Taylor—he would give her a life, a child, so he could get his life back. And he didn’t regret it. He’d wondered if he would—he didn’t. Biologically he was the father of her unborn child—but he had been contractually absolved of any financial responsibility, so he wouldn’t play the role of dad. It was strange for him to think that this would be the second biological child he had out in the world.
“Congratulations, Taylor.” He finally felt ready to speak.
He stood up and held out his hand to her. They had made love many times, but they hadn’t hugged very often. Yet being held tightly in this cowboy’s arms felt like home.
“Thank you, Clint.” Her head was resting on his chest. “You can’t possibly know what you’ve given me.”
After the embrace, Taylor didn’t sit back down at the table. “I have to get going. I promised Aunt Barb I’d help her with dinner tonight.”
Clint walked her to the door. Before she opened the door, she paused and turned her head to look at him.
“I’ll leave the door unlocked for you.” There was a question mark in her statement.
Clint smiled at her with his eyes. “Then I’ll see you later.”
* * *
After dinner Taylor headed back to her temporary home for a video date with her sister. It had been a quiet meal with her aunt and uncle, but inside she was bursting. She couldn’t wait to tell Casey the news.
“I’ve got the most incredible news!” Casey’s face was lit up with happy excitement.
“Do you?” Taylor leaned back against her pillows with a smile. “I have some pretty incredible news to share of my own.”
“Probably not as good as mine, but you go ahead...”
“No.” Taylor kept on smiling at her little sister. “You go first.”
“That was the right choice, my friend.” Casey bent to the side and disappeared from the view of the camera.
When her sister popped back upright, she was holding a black half boot in her hands and she had the wide grin of a Cheshire cat on her face.
“After months of saving—look what came in the mail today!” Casey spoke in a singsong voice and held the boot closer to the camera so Taylor could only see the boot and her sister’s fingernails, lacquered a deep plum color.
“A boot?”
Casey lowered the boot a little with a horrified expression on her pixy face. “A boot? This is clearly not just any boot. You do see that?”
“Not really.”
Casey groaned dramatically. “This is the Jimmy Choo crushed leather Burke boot.”
When her sister didn’t get the response she was after, she repeated with emphasis. “Jimmy Choo. Burke boo
t.”
“You know I don’t follow fashion. But it’s nice.”
“Nice?” Casey took the boot away. “Nice? How could we have possibly been raised in the same house? It’s like you were raised on a hippy commune.”
“Sorry.” Taylor laughed. “I really do like them...”
“You obviously do not understand the significance of owning these boots. So I can’t talk to you about them anymore,” Casey said teasingly. “So—what’s your news?”
In Taylor’s hand, she held the two positive pregnancy tests in front of the camera for her sister to see.
After a second of silence, Casey screamed. “You’re pregnant?”
“I’m pregnant.”
“Oh, Taylor...” Casey had her hand up near her mouth; her eyes were wide with wonder and surprise. “You’re going to have a baby.”
“Are you crying?” Taylor asked her sister. “If you start, I’m going to start!”
“I’m so happy for you.” Casey wiped the tears off her cheeks. “I’m just so happy for you. You’re going to be a mom, Tay. I’m going to be an aunt!”
“It means a lot that you support me.” There were tears in Taylor’s eyes.
“Of course I support you! What else? I mean—just look at you. I’ve never seen you this happy before.”
“I never have been this happy.” Taylor wiped her eyes. “I’m happier right now than I’ve ever been in my whole entire life.”
* * *
That night, Clint came to her. They had been lovers with a purpose, and now that they had completed that purpose, Taylor didn’t know if they would ever make love again. She waited for him in the living room. When he arrived, he took her hand and led her to the bedroom. This time, when he made love to her—and it felt more like making love than anything she had experienced before—it was slow and sweet, and careful. His lovemaking was different this time. It felt like he was saying goodbye.
Afterward, they lay together, naked, in the dark, holding hands.
“When will you leave?” she asked him quietly.
He squeezed her fingers. “I told Brock that I’d be leaving at the end of the week.”