by Sable Hunter
“This is Horace Brown from the Austin Cryobank. Since this involves you as much or more than Mr. McCoy, I’ll just give you the message.” Jessie clutched the side of the counter. She had a sinking feeling. What could they possibly want after all this time?
“Okay,” she was as uncertain as she sounded.
“After a thorough audit, we were finally able to determine who the father of your baby really was,” Mr. Brown was talking and Jessie was staggering. She found a chair and sat down before she fell.
“What?” Jessie was dying inside.
“This was an incredible mix-up. I can’t begin to apologize enough. We have set up new procedures and have hired new employees. We now require that they all go through extensive training, so that this doesn’t ever happen again. But we’re glad to be able to inform you that the sperm that was actually used in your insemination procedure belonged to a healthy gentleman named David Bell. He unfortunately died over a year ago – so there will be no recriminations from this continuing fiasco.”
No recriminations? Jessie wasn’t listening anymore. He kept talking, but she just held the phone in her hand. The baby didn’t belong to Jacob. She started to shake. The baby didn’t belong to Jacob. Jacob wasn’t the father.
Jessie reeled from the revelation. Jacob loved this baby! Suddenly, every insecurity and doubt that Jessie had ever had hit her full force. What was she going to do? How could she tell him? Would he still want to marry her? Jessie sat there, still holding the phone.
“Pumpkin?” Jacob walked in and found her just staring into space. She was deathly white. “Jess? What’s wrong?”
Blankly, she looked up at him. This was it. She would be alone, again. From the first moment that Jacob had heard about the baby, he had wanted it. His baby. She had almost convinced herself that his primary reason for marrying her was because he loved her – but, deep inside she knew that her being pregnant with his child was the necessary piece of the puzzle. Without the baby, they would have never met, fell in love or decided to marry. The baby was everything to Jacob. “You’re not the father of my baby, Jacob. It’s all been a lie.” Numbly, she stood and began to walk away from him.
“Wait,” Jacob’s voice invited no argument. Jessie halted. He grabbed her by the wrist and tugged her into his embrace. “You’re wrong, Jessie. That is my baby.”
Jessie wilted. “No, Mr. Brown called ...” and she began to tell him the conversation.
“Baby, baby, stop.” he shushed her. “Don’t you shed one more tear.” He began to kiss the dampness away. “I knew, Jessie. I knew.” Jessie got chills. This was déjà vu all over again. The last time she had confessed about the baby, he had said those same words, ‘he knew’
“What do you mean?” She was clinging to him. She had nowhere else to go. He was her world.
“I got the phone call about the paternity test before we rescued you. At the time, it wasn’t important – all that was important was getting you and the baby back.” As he talked to her, he rubbed her back, her arms – kissing her on the face, the neck. He was letting her know with his whole body that she was everything to him. “After you came home – frankly – I forgot about it.” Holding her head in both hands, he made her look him in the eye. “I love you. You. You are more important to me than my land, my home – hell, you are more important to me than my own life. And the child you carry will be mine. I will love you and him every single day that I live.” He sealed that precious promise with a kiss that took her breath away.
Four Months Later
“Lord, it’s good to be back!” Jacob opened the door of his truck. “Let’s get the two of you in the house, Jess. It’s cold out here.”
Noah hurried off the porch and met him with a slap on the back and a brotherly hug. “We’ve been waiting on you guys.”
Unlatching the newborn car seat, Jacob handed Noah his brand new nephew. Isaac was right there to carry Jessie’s luggage and Nathan grabbed the balloon bouquet that proudly declared, ‘IT’S A BOY!’
Jacob carried his most precious possession. Jessie. “We’re home, sweet angel.”
As soon as they were in the house, the whole family crowded around them, anxious to see the newest member of their family. “We’ve named him Bowie Travis,” Jacob announced.
“Bowie Travis?” Aron was surprised. “You named him after Bowie Travis Malone?”
“Yea, I did, he was my best friend.” Jacob hoped that wherever Travis Malone was, he was just half as happy, safe and loved as his namesake. “We’re gonna call him Travis.”
“Not me,” Nathan laughed. “I’m gonna call him B. T. How does that sound? B. T. McCoy.”
Jessie laughed. “I like that, Nathan.” Jacob took his baby out of the carrier and held him close. Looking down at his child with loving eyes, he touched the soft down on his head and smiled. “Isn’t he beautiful?”
Jessie held her breath. This was so like the scene that she envisioned that very first day when she had stood outside the window and imagined Jacob holding their son. As if he was privy to her dream, Jacob held out his hand and invited his beloved wife into their circle of love. “He’s the best looking baby in the whole world.” Little Bowie Travis had dark sable hair and lapis blue eyes. He was the picture of his father. What did doctors know anyway? “This is my son,” Jacob said reverently. “He’s a real McCoy.”
♥ ~ About the Author ~ ♥
Sable Hunter lives in central Texas with her husband, her dog and a kindle full of erotic romances.
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Check out her website at
www.sablehunter.com
for information on other projects.
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OTHER SERIES FROM
SABLE HUNTER!
~ TEXAS HEAT SERIES~
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HEART IN CHAINS
~ HELL YEAH! SERIES~
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COWBOY HEAT
~ MAGICK MOON SERIES~
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SWEET EVANGELINE
~ HILLCOUNTRY HEART SERIES~
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SCARLET FEVER
READ AN EXCERPT FROM
SWEET EVANGALINE
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Eric didn’t know whether to be shocked, offended or just plain flattered. He slowly walked around the nude sculpture that so closely resembled him. He knew what his body looked like; he had worked hard to get the muscle definition that he had. And here it was in specific, minute detail. And the look on the face was so obviously that of an aroused man, the hooded eyes, the piercing gaze. The statute was labeled ‘Angel’, by Evangeline Martel. How odd. No one else in Austin knew about his middle name, or how special it was to him. He was flabbergasted. The lightning bolt scar was in the exact place that it was on his body; a product of an eight year old boy and his four wheeler’s run-in with a barbwire fence. But what stood out the most, literally, was the fact that he – uh, the statute was extremely well endowed. Eric smiled. Someone sure had his measurements down pat! Damn!
The crowd was coming alive. It was full of guys that knew him, fire guys, city guys, EMT’s – they all knew one another. And they were cutting him no slack. They held nothing back in the hoo-raw department. “Eric, you are our hero!” one of them exclaimed.
“Do you think they’ll ask you to pose for Playgirl?”
Knowing his alma mater was the University of Texas, another one exclaimed. “It’s about time the world knew how long a Longhorn really is!”
“Go look at the other sculpture, Eric,” a faceless voice in the crowd instructed him. So he did. The first piece had surprised him; after all, the sight of one’s own naked body in an unsuspecting place was enough to get anyone’s undivided attention. But what he saw next took his breath away. Obviously, the man was him also; there really was no mistaking that. This one showed him in the throes of coitus; legs in a w
idened stance, supporting a woman in his arms, her legs wrapped around his waist, obviously fully impaled on his shaft. The woman had her arms around him, hiding her face in his neck, a braid hanging to the middle of her back. Eric was stunned! This was her! The woman from his dreams. He would have recognized that body anywhere – and her hair – it was all so familiar. Eric’s heartbeat was going nuts! This was the most erotic thing he had ever seen in his life! Suddenly, he wished his pants weren’t quite so tight. He refused to look down to see how big of a show he was putting on. He turned to walk through the crowd, intent on finding someone who could point out the artist who had put all of his goods on display. Did she know his dream-girl? Maybe this was the answer to that midnight yearning that had been about to drive him mad.
He began to be conscious of the stares and whispers of the crowd that encircled him and the pair of bronzes. He turned to look around and WHAM! Jessica slapped the crap out of him! “Looks likes I wasn’t the only one cheating!” Jessica huffed off and Eric rubbed his jaw, glad to see her go. He was much more interested in exactly who the artist was that had carved his extra-large penis for the whole of Austin to see. This Evangeline Martel sure had some explaining to do! He needed to go check his bedroom for very small cameras.
READ AN EXCERPT FROM
SCARLET FEVER
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“There’s my girl.” At the sound of his voice, Scarlet’s heart warmed. She looked up at him, always amazed, anew, at how truly handsome he was. Joining her on the floor, he claimed her lips in a hard kiss. Noticing that her hair was unbound from the braid, he ran his fingers through the luscious curls that hung almost to her waist. “I love your hair. It’s going to look gorgeous spread out on my pillow.” Ripples of awareness flowed over Scarlet’s body causing her nipples to pebble.
“You left this on my desk.” Scarlet looked at what he had in his hand. It was her notebook.
“Wait.” She started to reach for it, but it was too late.
“I found this odd list. Scarlet, do you have a tattoo?” He had her bucket list in his hand. It was out of order, but if he kept looking, he would find out that her number one desire had been to seduce one Alex Stewart. Scarlet didn’t know whether to cry or run.
“Yes.”
“Where?” Swear to God, he licked his lips.
“On my bottom.” He closed his eyes and sighed.
“What is it?” He still had his eyes closed.
“A red rose, like my name, Scarlet Rose.” What was it with men and tattoos?
“You have a little red rose on your butt? Let me see.” He was as serious as a heart attack.
“No!” she huffed. Then she laughed.
“Just a peek?” He was so darned cute. Scarlet rose to her knees and turned her back to him. Pulling her jeans down a little ways, she held the back open so he could glance down on her hip. Alex groaned. “Damn!”
Scarlet sat back down, quickly, once again reaching for the list. “Not so fast,” holding it over her head. “There may be more interesting stuff on this list.” He began to peruse it, chuckling here, asking questions there. “What is this list, anyway? A glorified to-do list?” Before she could answer he had shuffled the papers so that the first page was on top. “Bucket list – 100 things to do before I die.” That wasn’t enough to cause him to question, until his eyes rested on the first item.
“Make love.” His eyes flew to hers. “Scarlet, what’s my name doing here? And it’s crossed out.” He looked back down at the paper. “Escort service. And it’s marked out”
He turned the papers over, reshuffled them and looked at her hard. “Explain. Did you come here looking for sex? If not from me, from a gigolo? I don’t understand.” Scarlet paused, just looking at him, trying to determine if he was angry.
“I wanted to know what it was like to make love with a man. Just once.” There was no inflection in her voice, she wasn’t looking for sympathy.
“Why is my name crossed out?”
“It was just a day dream; the whole list is mostly just a wish list. When I got here, I realized that I couldn’t go through with it. I changed my mind.”
“Why, because of the stupid things I said?”
“No because you’re so beautiful.” She looked down, unable to watch his face, afraid of what she would see.
“I’m glad you ditched the escort service idea, that’s just stupid. Why didn’t you want to take the time and find someone and cultivate a relationship with them?” Scarlet blanched. He was talking as if he had never held her close, never whispered warm suggestive words to her that had turned her insides to mush.
Time to come clean. Regardless of the outcome, she owed him an explanation. She would just have to get his promise that what he learned would go no further. “I don’t have time to cultivate a relationship.”
“You don’t have time.” He acted like he didn’t believe her. “You’re too busy to learn to love somebody.” Alex was disappointed in her, she could tell.
“It’s not so much that I’m ‘busy – don’t have time...’ ” Scarlet’s voice was soft, but serious. “More like I’m running out of time.” At his look of confusion, she clarified. “It’s a bucket list, Alex.
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