Keep My Heart (Top Shelf Romance Book 7)

by Lex Martin

  This is worse than that dumb carb-free fast I tried in high school, which resulted with me stuffing my face with every biscuit, muffin, and tortilla I could get my hands on for three days straight when I finally caved.

  With a groan, I kick off the covers, flip on the bedside lamp, and look around my room. Most of my stuff is still in my apartment in Austin, so I don’t even have the one, no-frills vibrator I didn’t throw out last summer. If I acquaint myself with the deluxe shower head I noticed in my bathroom, will I wake everyone up?

  Ugh. Not worth it.

  Stay strong, Victoria.

  Whimpering, I flop back on the bed and cross my arm over my face. At least when I was waiting tables and bartending, I had daily—hell, hourly—reminders of how hot guys were dirtbags. But here, stranded with Mr. Sexy-As-Fuck Farm Boy, I sense the thrill of the chase toying with my resistance, especially now that I’m seeing Ethan’s not the giant asshole I assumed he was when we first met.

  I mentally flip through this last year where I really only did two things to keep my mind off Jamie—I worked and cooked. Maybe I can use that as an outlet here. Not only is cooking for the kids something I’ll enjoy, more elaborate meals wear me out, so I shouldn’t have an ounce of extra energy to lust after their dad.

  The buzz of an incoming call interrupts my wallowing, but when I see the name on my cell screen, I groan. I love my best friend Vivian, but not the way we always seem to get in trouble when we’re together.

  An all-girl Catholic high school did nothing to tame the two of us. If anything, it made Viv and me rebel more when we were younger, and college only made us wilder. But we haven’t hung out in ages, and I’m starting to feel guilty about it.

  “Why aren’t you at my party?” she asks, without preamble. A thumping bass punctuates every other word. She must head into a quiet room, because the music fades to a low roar.

  “I didn’t know you were back from South Padre.” I don’t bother explaining that some of us have to work for a living. She “works” for her father, but he’s always letting her set her own hours.

  Yawning, I try to follow what she’s saying.

  “Wait. Were you asleep? At nine p.m.?”

  “Got a new job. Sort of.” Everything with Ethan is so up in the air, I don’t know if he really plans for me to be here the entire summer. Or if I want to be here that long. Except there’s no other way I can be as close to Kat if this doesn’t work out.

  I give Viv a brief rundown of how I came to be the newest employee at Carter Cutting Horses.

  “Have you fucked him yet?” She chews ice in my ear.

  “Fucked who?”

  “The dad. He sounds hot, and you’ve always had a thing for assholes.”

  “Of course I haven’t fucked him. He’s my boss.” And he’s not really an asshole.

  “Never stopped you before.”

  I sigh, feeling the exhaustion of my past bulldoze over me. “I never slept with any of my bosses.” People only think I have because I run with friends like Viv. Sure, I’ve had plenty of hookups, and yes, I love sex, but I have a morality clause—no bosses or guys who’ve dated my friends. As soon as you bang someone’s ex, you’re headed for crazy town, and I have enough of that in my life without chumming the water.

  “Really?” She sounds disappointed.

  “I swear.”

  “Jamie wasn’t your boss?”

  The sound of his name makes me wince. “No, he wasn’t my boss. He was my boss’s friend, which was bad enough.”

  Because one, my boss Kevin never bothered to tell me my boyfriend was fucking married, and two, when Jamie and I unceremoniously broke up that fateful day, I had to quit my bartending job or face the very real possibility of seeing him because he frequented that restaurant.

  And there was no way I was ever talking to that scumbag again. I changed my number, switched my job, and eventually moved when he kept stalking my place and sending me flowers. Nothing says, “Hey, sorry I didn’t tell you I was a cheating douchebag” like bouquets of carnations. Who apologizes with the cheapest flower in the state of Texas? Even after I trashed them, they left behind that sickeningly sweet scent that reminded me of my grandmother’s funeral.

  “Are you still on that man diet thing?”

  “No dicks for me.” Figuratively or literally.

  “That’s a shame. I have a friend—”

  “No.”

  “He’s super hot.”

  “Then you date him, and I’ll live vicariously through your escapades.”

  She laughs maniacally. “No one said date him. Just let him bang your brains out so you can get over your aversion to attractive men and see that you need to move back to Austin. Then we can party the whole summer. Come on. You haven’t been the same since Jamie. Where’s the BFF I know and love?”

  “Girlfriend, I have to work. I have bills to pay. Daddy ain’t gonna cover my rent.”

  I can almost hear her rolling her eyes. “George doesn’t pay my rent.” She calls her parents by their first names. My mother would smack me with her chancla if I ever did that. “I have a salary, thank you very much.”

  A salary Daddy pays even when you don’t show up to work.

  But when she doesn’t stop badgering me, I promise to go out with her. I might need a break from Ethan Carter pronto anyway.

  “Yay!” she yells into the phone. “We’ll have a blast! One night of partying never hurt anyone.”

  I don’t bother pointing out how we both know that’s not true.

  One night is all it takes for everything to go wrong.

  When I wake up the next morning, a precious face grins at me over the edge of the bed.

  “Hey, Mila.”

  What time is it? Ethan didn’t specify what time he wanted me to get the kids up, only that they ate around eight, and it’s not quite seven fifteen.

  “Sorry I woke you. Did I wake you?” She bounces up and down on her toes.

  This kid is like sunshine on crack. I smile at her even though it pains me to be so cheerful this early in the day without a shot of coffee injected straight into my jugular.

  Baby babble sounds through a tiny speaker on the bedside table. Ethan must’ve put the baby monitor there this morning before he headed out to work with the horses. Cody isn’t quite two, so of course his dad still has a monitor for him. I feel dumb for not thinking about that sooner.

  “Mila, can you do me a favor and keep your brother company for a few minutes while I brush my teeth? I’ll be right out.”

  “I can do that!” She leaps into action, a blur of little girl racing out the door.

  My laughter turns into a groan as I try to roll out of bed. When I bartend, I usually go to bed around three or four. Sometimes later. So getting up with the cows is not something my body knows how to do. I haven’t gotten up this early since that internship fired me.

  A few minutes later, when I get to Cody’s room, his big smile perks me up. These kids are so freaking happy, I don’t know what to do with myself. I grin at him and snuggle his warm body to me.

  “Did you sleep well, munchkin?” He nuzzles closer. I close my eyes, loving his sweet baby scent. “Are you hungry?”

  His grumbling tummy answers the question, and I hurry to get him changed so I can feed him. It takes a few minutes to wrestle him out of his pajamas, and when I get to his diaper, his smile widens.

  “Poopies!” He kicks his chubby legs. “Poopies!”

  “Okay, buddy. Thanks for the warning.”

  Except for the toxic diaper, the morning goes smoothly, but by lunch time, Mila’s not wearing that bright smile anymore.

  This little girl who never stops moving is staring out the back window, completely frozen.

  I kneel down next to her. “What’s wrong, honey? You look worried.”

  Her lips twist in her cherubic face. She waves me closer to whisper in my ear. “Can we make my daddy something to eat?”

  I almost laugh, except the serious expression
on her face tells me I shouldn’t. “What does he usually do for lunch?”

  “My grandma makes him food.”

  Ethan expressly told me I shouldn’t make him any meals, but that’s kind of weird if he’s used to coming into the house to eat. What is he doing for lunch?

  Movement catches my eye in the back yard, and I look across the expansive field to the beautiful red barn where Ethan leads a horse to his stall.

  Returning my attention to Mila, I give her a hug. “How about we make some extra food in case he comes in for lunch?”

  She looks down, still frowning, and nods. Clearly, that wasn’t the answer she wants to hear.

  “Mila, what would you like to do for your dad? What would make you happy?”

  “Can we make him lunch and take it to him?”

  This kid is too sweet.

  “Of course we can.” And if he doesn’t want it? Too damn bad because I’m not sure I can tell her no.

  Ethan

  Logan and I toil side by side the entire morning, grooming horse after horse. I should be shitting rainbows after seeing how well the kids have taken to Tori, but the phone call I got from my lawyer this morning put me on edge again.

  My brother takes a swig of his water bottle and wipes the sweat off his brow. “So it’s set then? When you guys go before the judge in a few weeks, it’ll be a done deal? You’ll be divorced?”

  I grunt, hating the looming court date.

  That word. Divorce. Sounds so final. I guess it is.

  The misery of the last two years weighs on my heart, the failure of it reverberating through my bones. This isn’t what I wanted for my kids. Splitting time between two houses. Me worrying if they left their clothes or toys behind. Wondering what they’re doing. Hating that I’m not with them. I may work a lot now, but I can check on them a dozen times throughout the day and hear their laughter when they’re playing in the yard.

  “You want me to come with you to court?” Logan chugs another drink and then douses his face. “I could tag along.”

  He’s acting like we’re talking about grabbing a beer instead of ending my marriage. I could use his support, though. “Yeah. Thanks.”

  As I brush out the mare, it settles in—how out of reach my dream of riding cutting horses competitively has become. I’ll never be able to do it again, at least not when the financial future of the ranch is so uncertain. And definitely not while I’m still figuring out how to be a single parent.

  What tears at my conscience is how much my father wanted me to get back in the arena, but I don’t see how I can make that happen with all of the responsibilities I’m dealing with right now.

  With a grimace, I pinch the bridge of my nose. I can’t even drown my sorrows with a good bottle of whiskey ’cause I have so much shit to do.

  We wash down one more mare before Logan breaks the silence. “Sandra keeps asking about you.”

  I have no idea who he’s talking about, but he ignores my foul mood and keeps talking. “She’s that cute realtor we met at the Lone Star. The one who got divorced last year?” He sighs. “The one with the son?”

  It takes me a minute but then I remember, mostly because I heard her ex was abusive, which pisses me off. I don’t understand how a man can hurt a woman.

  Logan nods at me. “Want me to set you up? You’ve been a monk for too long, and this court date gives us the perfect reason to celebrate.” Using the words “celebrate” and “court date” in the same sentence make me cringe, but I know he’s pissed at Allison on my behalf. “Come on, bro. One beer. Maybe an appetizer. That’s it. Sandra’s a cutie, but if you’re not ready to ‘wham, bam, thank you, ma’am,’ I’m sure you could keep it casual.”

  My brother, the romantic.

  He nudges my arm, and I shrug him off. “Fine. One beer. Whatever it takes to get you to shut up.”

  “Or even better, we could go to the coast for the weekend. Maybe when Allison is watching the kids.”

  With everything I have to do around here, taking a weekend to act like I’m young and carefree is impractical. “How in the world would I pull that off?”

  The words are barely out of my mouth when a little voice shouts, “Daddy! We brought you lunch!”

  A huge smile lifts my lips before I’m done turning around. Standing in the open gate, with sunlight streaming behind them, are Mila, Cody, and Tori. Mila’s carrying a huge picnic basket, one my mother stores over the kitchen cabinets, while Tori bounces Cody on her hip and waves.

  It’s such a rare treat to see the kids back here that I instantly feel the sadness from a minute ago start to lift.

  Tori hoists my son higher in her arms. “Sorry to bother you, but Mila wanted to make you lunch.”

  “It’s no bother. I’ll never turn away food.”

  I kneel down to Mila’s eye level, and she throws herself in my arms like she hasn’t seen me in a week. Worry fills my heart, and my eyes connect with Tori, who gives me a look of understanding.

  Her voice is soft. Comforting. “She’s having a good afternoon. She just misses you.”

  Rubbing Mila’s back, I realize how hard this must be for her. Having my mom leave and a new babysitter take over the very next second. I should’ve planned this better and overlapped them more.

  “Hey,” I whisper into my daughter’s hair. “You totally made my day.”

  “Yeah?” When she pulls back, she wipes her eyes, but even though she’s emotional, she’s smiling.

  “Yup. I was having a crummy morning, but then my favorite people stopped by.”

  She looks up at Tori and leans toward me to whisper, “Tori made the food, but I helped.”

  “I’m sure it’s delicious,” I say, watching how Tori averts her eyes when I look at her. “What’d ya make?”

  Mila jumps up and down. “Sandwiches and salad.”

  I’ll be starving again in an hour, but this sweet delivery fills me up in other ways. “Sure was thoughtful of you.” I wait until Tori looks at me to say those words to my daughter, so Tori knows they’re meant for her too.

  I tell my ranch hands to take a break and corral my brood into the corner stall that’s been outfitted into a small office with an extra table.

  Tori hands Cody to me, and I kiss his chubby belly and make him laugh while the girls set out the food. And holy shit, my daughter’s simple description of the meal doesn’t do it justice. Because Tori didn’t just make sandwiches and salad.

  My mouth waters when I see the thick, succulent pieces of meat wedged between the lightly toasted slices of bread.

  “You made a roast? And homemade potato salad?” My mom left a roast to thaw in the fridge before she left, and I guess there must’ve been a sack of potatoes somewhere in the pantry.

  I’m almost tempted to say Tori looks embarrassed at the spread.

  She tucks her hands in the back pockets of her cutoffs and nods. “That okay?” She glances up at me, her hair tumbling over her shoulders and hiding half of her face. “I probably should’ve asked first. There’s more than enough for you guys for dinner. If you don’t mind eating the same thing later.”

  “This is amazing.” I get my daughter seated next to me and prop Cody on my lap while I dig in. Flavor explodes on my tongue with the perfect spices and just the right amount of mayo. The meat practically melts in my mouth.

  I’m two bites in and halfway through a whole sandwich when Logan strolls up to our impromptu lunch.

  “Did ya bring enough for me too?” he asks Tori, who is standing between me and Cody, helping him dig into a Tupperware of food that’s been cut into toddler-sized pieces. Shit. I should be doing that.

  She tucks a long strand of hair behind her ear. “We brought plenty. I wasn’t sure how hungry Ethan would be, so if he doesn’t mind sharing…”

  I’m tempted to growl and keep this for myself, except my brother has been busting his ass all day.

  Nodding toward the empty chair across from me, I don’t bother to stop devouring my lunch.
<
br />   He takes one look at the spread and wraps an arm around Tori and kisses the top of her head. “This fu— freaking rocks. You’re amazing.” Squeezing her harder, he looks at me. “Isn’t she amazing?”

  Tori gives him a self-depreciating smile, and her cheeks heat.

  I pause mid-bite, frozen with the very real desire to peel Logan off Tori with my fist. “Stop mauling the woman and sit your butt down and eat.” My attention darts back to Tori. “Yes, she’s amazing.”

  She averts her eyes, like she’s at a loss for words. Interesting.

  “You gonna join us?” I peek in the basket and notice the last of the oatmeal cookies my mom made this weekend.

  “No. I, um, I lose my appetite when I cook. From smelling the food all that time, I guess.” She turns to Mila and unwraps her sandwich carefully so the thick chunks of meat don’t fall out.

  “Make sure you eat at some point so my kids don’t run you ragged. I can watch them for a bit if you need a break. I didn’t intend for you to do a marathon cooking session while you babysat. Thought they could eat some chicken nuggets or mac and cheese or something easy for lunch.”

  Shrugging, she turns those big hazel eyes up to mine. “It’s not a big deal. I like to cook, and your kitchen is amazing, so that makes it really fun. I don’t mind. But if you have any requests, let me know ahead of time so I can make sure you have all of the ingredients.”

  Logan leans forward in his seat. “You take requests?”

  I toss my napkin at his face. “Not from you.”

  He chuckles and winks at Tori, and I force myself not to clench my fists. Not sure why that bothers me, but it does. Logan’s a flirt. That’s who he is, but watching him fawn over Tori gets under my skin.

  When we’re done eating, I head out into the main part of the barn. My kids are hanging off my brother when I notice Tori reaching up to pet one of our buckskin quarter horses, who’s leaning his head out of his stall and enjoying the attention. Can’t say I blame him.