The Cowboy Says I Do

by Sinclair Jayne

“Are you all right? You seem a little nervous. You weren’t the one who got up on stage with Dylan Telford to sing a few songs,” she teased. “Bowen did that. I’m still shocked he agreed.”

  She’d known Bowen played guitar and had a beautiful voice, but he rarely performed in public—and she, who loved open mics, would have loved to have had a partner to duet with over the past few years. She’d mostly stopped asking. The only times he’d sung with her had been at a few of the children’s hospital visits.

  “I’m happy,” Beck said. “Just wishing I could have you alone.”

  She smiled. “You want to do another kind of dancing?”

  “So much,” he said. “But tonight. I want to go slow. I want to hold you in my arms and enjoy being together.”

  She’d been savoring the moment, but now that Beck had mentioned being alone, she’d be lying if she said she wasn’t eager for some horizontal time with him. She’d heard women over the years discuss the merits of make-up sex, but until last night she’d never had anything to make up.

  “Let’s go back to my place,” she said softly.

  “Not the ranch?”

  She heard the disappointment in his voice, but she wasn’t quite ready for that—to go full-on family with Beck yet. She knew his mom and aunts would be there. His granddad and cousins. Beck would want to do a huge baby announcement and probably something high pressured like a way-too-public proposal. And she wouldn’t know how to say no.

  She wanted to be wanted for herself, not because of a baby, and she still hadn’t found a way to let go of the hurt or find a way around that obstacle.

  “My place is closer,” she whispered seductively. “And more private.”

  And so, before the song ended, Beck was weaving her through the crowd at a fast clip while she laughed but pulled back. “My purse, and jacket and scarf,” she reminded him.

  “Stay put. Hold that thought,” he ordered and sprinted back to their table, which had nearly cleared out, as many of the Wilders were dancing and Beck’s mom and aunts seemed to be catching up with former school friends. Ben Ballantyne had headed home a few minutes ago.

  She loved to watch Beck move. He easily dodged around couples heading on and off the makeshift dance floor. Heat stirred. He was sexy. Hers. And she had thought she could walk away and stay away from that.

  They walked back to her studio, hand-in-hand. The comfortable quiet felt precious.

  Beck opened her door, took off his hat, and then tapped the door shut with the soul of one boot. She dropped her jacket, scarf and purse on the coffee table and breathed Beck in. He was hers, and they had the entire night together—and one more week before he headed back on the road for at least another month. She knew he’d want to drive back and forth to see her, but it was draining on a cowboy, consuming energy, focus and money. She wanted Beck sharp so that he could compete at the level he needed to stay safe and achieve his dreams.

  She just had to convince him that she would be fine on her own and that when he came to the ranch for his long break before the finals, she would be waiting for him. They would each have time to sort out their feelings and make plans.

  “Ashni.” He took both her hands in his, looking so serious, which was not how she wanted her magical evening to end at all.

  She stepped into him, her hands moving up his body, pulling open the snaps of his shirt so that she could nibble on one of his nipples even as she soothed over it with her tongue.

  Beck moaned low in his throat and she expertly kissed a sensuous path down his body. She undid his buckle and jeans and slid her hands inside his loosened pants and boxers to cup his ass, squeezing once she dropped to her knees and palmed his straining erection.

  She circled his velvet tip, already leaking a little, with her thumb.

  “Talk later,” she ordered, her voice low in her throat. “Boots off now,” she commanded. Then she leaned forward and slid her tongue across his tip. She dropped to her knees and, gaze on his heating one, she sucked him slowly into her mouth.

  Beck growled, and his eyes fluttered before he rallied and followed her commands, managing to get out of his boots and shuck off his pressed black jeans and boxers, cursing the clothes a little. He rocked in and out of her a few times as his shirt fluttered to the floor.

  “Ashni.” He lightly stroked her hair as she used her lips and tongue and mouth to create a hot friction that made it seem like he’d lose control quickly.

  “Baby, I’m not going to last if you don’t…ahhhhh,” he sighed as she varied her rhythm. She loved that she could still undo him—make him speechless and Gumby in bed. But he always rebounded fast and took charge so she had to savor her control while she had it, and then she’d be happy to lose it.

  *

  Beck could feel himself race toward climax, which had not been his intention. Not yet. He’d wanted to put on music, pop the cork on some sparkling cider he’d purchased and put in her fridge, light some candles, get down on his knee and propose to Ashni in a romantic way—telling her all the things he loved about her—the way she loved him was just one of many.

  Driving her mindless in bed had been after the romantic proposal—after she said yes, shed a few tears, stared at the ring on her finger and then quivered in his arms while he’d lovingly and slowly undressed her and carried her to the bed.

  While getting jumped, stripped and blown in the doorway had probably been on his fantasy list at some point, he’d imagined the end of this night quite differently, and yet her obvious enjoyment, devotion and the absolute focused skill of her hot mouth made any objection far beyond his level of self-control.

  He let Ashni have her way, which ended up with him boneless, collapsing into the chair conveniently by the door and pulling her up on his lap so he could kiss her senseless and let the slow burn build up again.

  They still didn’t make it to the bed. He stripped off Ashni’s dress and palmed her breasts and kissed and stroked her until she was wet and begging, but when he would have lifted her to carry her to the bed, she impaled herself and rode him. He let her tease him with the rhythm—fast and slow—and the squeeze of her muscles.

  “I created a sex control freak,” he murmured against her mouth.

  She laughed. “You complaining?”

  “Never.”

  “You taught me well.”

  “We taught each other.”

  “We have three weeks to make up for,” she said, as if he needed any reminding.

  “Oh yes,” she bit out when he grabbed her hips, seizing control so that he could push up as he slammed her down. Ashni’s fingers dug into his shoulders as he continued to pump, and she breathlessly urged him on. He changed the angle so that he could hit her sweet spot, and he felt the moment he tipped her over the edge.

  Her feminine muscles gripped him while he continued to push into her over and over through her orgasm, until she collapsed against his chest, both of them hot, sweaty and spent. Their breath mingled and her hair was wild around them, a sexy, silky black cloud.

  “I’m never moving,” she murmured even as she pressed kisses against his throat.

  “I got you, baby.” He continued to hold her until he caught his breath and felt that his legs would hold them both.

  Beck carried her to the bed, laid her reverently down and then sealed her body with his. She parted her legs so that she could cradle his body in hers.

  “I missed you,” he said, smoothing her hair out of her face. He should ask if she wanted for them to clean up. He’d often clean her with a warm, wet facecloth after lovemaking, which then ended in a second round, but now he just wanted to stay sealed to her—not let her escape through his carelessness. “I missed us.”

  “I missed us too,” she admitted.

  A shadow crossed her face.

  “I have something for you,” he said quickly. “I wanted to give it to you tonight. I had a slightly different plan for this evening.”

  She stroked her hands through his hair. It was shaggy.
He needed a haircut, but he’d been too distracted to head to the barber, and Ashni had always wanted him to grow his hair a bit longer. Maybe he would. He turned his head to kiss one of her palms.

  “Oh, Beck,” she said, her voice full of regret.

  In the act of extricating himself from her limbs that had tangled with his, he paused, his heart thudding so hard it hurt.

  “You already got me a present.”

  “This isn’t a present,” he assured her, but when he lifted off her, she caught his hand. Brought his fingers to her lips and kissed each knuckle.

  “Please don’t give it to me. Not now,” she said, her eyes swimming with tears.

  “Why not?”

  Unable to stand her pain even as his own engulfed him, he kissed the corners of her eyes, tasting her warm, salty tears.

  “I just can’t, Beck. Not now.”

  “But when? The baby…”

  “That’s just it.” She held her finger against his mouth. “The baby. I don’t want to marry because of the baby. I mean it.”

  “The baby is not the only reason,” he said. “It just sped things up.”

  She pressed her lips together and then struggled to sit up. He shifted and helped her. Ash drew a silk, vividly patterned wrap on the opposite side of the bed to her and slipped it over her body.

  “I don’t feel that in here.” She touched the Montana sapphire stone he’d given her. “In my heart. I still feel like the baby changed your mind about marrying me—not your feelings about me.”

  “Ash—”

  “Please, Beck, don’t make this harder. It kills me to hurt you. It does. And I’m hurting myself too, because I always imagined myself married to you.”

  “You will be.”

  She shook her head. “I wanted to marry you because I loved you and it was the next step, but the marriage was my destination—not just a part of my life journey, and I lost myself somewhere. I’m different. Something broke inside of me that night when I heard you talking to Bodhi. I know you explained. I don’t want to beat you up about it. I even understand. And now I’m glad because it jolted me awake. I need to take more control of my life. I need to know I can stand on my own.”

  “Of course you can.” He sat up fully and reached for her hands to hold them. “You’re strong. Smart. Educated. Talented. You can achieve anything you want.”

  “What I want is to create a more independent, professional me before the baby comes. I don’t want to just be your girlfriend and then your wife.”

  “You were never just my girlfriend.” He couldn’t believe the view she had of herself.

  “That’s how people saw me on the tour. Even though I worked in marketing, I was Beck Ballantyne’s. Everything I did and had was because of you. Even my parents saw me and all I accomplished as just an extension of you and your world.”

  “You were my girl, but I was just as much your man.”

  “See, even the way you say it, it’s not the same. Girl. I’m an adult. I need to feel that I have a life, a me outside of being a mother and your wife. I’m not saying never. I just want time to define myself. To be on my own.”

  “On your own? Why would you be on your own? We’ll be together. The tour only—”

  “I resigned my job,” she interrupted him. “I’ve been finishing up some projects remotely. I’m staying in Marietta. I applied for a job with the public health department and got it. I start on Monday.”

  She uttered each sentence with a finality that sounded like the thud of a cowboy hitting the dirt and leaving him just as robbed of breath.

  So much for communicating. He pulled away from her and stood up, uncaring of his nudity.

  “You quit the tour and accepted a new job in a different town and didn’t tell me?”

  “I wanted to build my own life. I’ve never had that.”

  “Without me.”

  “Not forever,” she said.

  “How long?”

  “I don’t know. It’s not an exact science.”

  “You’re not going to be alone. You are carrying our child.”

  “The baby was unexpected.”

  “And changes everything. I quit the tour too. I’m planning to talk to Granddad about me moving to the ranch permanently to help out.”

  If he thought that would change anything, he was wrong.

  “It’s not a competition,” she said scornfully. “You’re quitting because of the baby?” She stood. “Don’t bother. Pursue your career. Lots of cowboys on the tour have families. Rack up your points and endorsements while you can. It’s always been your dream.”

  “You and the baby are my dream now.”

  Ash crossed her arms, unimpressed. “I am not marrying a man who only is interested in marrying me because we had an oops.”

  “Don’t say that.”

  “Oops.”

  “Your dad will freeeeeak if we don’t get married. My granddad will kick my ass all the way out of Montana. You wanted a big wedding—a blend of East and West. We don’t have a lot of time to make that happen before the baby. We could get married by a judge and then do the big wedding and party after the baby comes when you’re feeling well again.”

  He could not shut himself up. He heard himself talking and talking, and he knew, absolutely, that this was not working. The most important moment of his life, and he was blowing it. Big-time.

  “We’ve been over this,” Ashni said impatiently. “I’m not marrying you because of the baby.”

  “And again, just to be clear, I am still not not being married to my child’s mother. What kind of a man would that make me? I would despise that man.”

  “It’s not about you.”

  “What am I supposed to say to our child when they ask why their mom and dad aren’t married? How do you plan to explain it—that you said no because you want to be your own woman? I don’t keep you in a cage. I don’t have a leash. If we don’t marry, all those things your parents thought about me will come true.”

  “Are you listening to yourself?”

  He wished he hadn’t been.

  “None of what you’re saying is about how you feel about me, about me being your wife and you being my husband. None of it was about how you want to build a life with me. All of it was about how other people will perceive you if you don’t marry a woman you accidentally knocked up. And you’re not quitting the tour to build a life with me. You’re doing it because of the baby.”

  “The baby is a game changer,” he admitted and then wished he hadn’t.

  “Everything’s a game to you.”

  “This is not a game, and I am not playing.” He picked up his clothes and dressed quickly and before he uttered any of the words that were screaming around in his head, he walked out, barely resisting the urge to slam the door.

  *

  “This is dumb,” Ashni muttered walking along the outside perimeter of the steak dinner and searching for Beck. The crowds had thinned slightly. Most couples and groups had finished eating or were indulging in dessert and still sitting at the tables chatting, drinking iced tea and tapping a finger or hand to the band’s beat.

  She’d changed back into her dress and added a long swing cardigan and a scarf for warmth to stave off the night breeze that rolled down Copper Mountain. She wished she’d added leggings as the hay from the bales that marked off the footprint of the event kept scratching her as she walked.

  Funny. Hay never used to bother her. She and Beck had gotten up close and intimate in hay over the years. Just the smell of it often evoked pleasant memories.

  But now it was irritating—just like everything else. Not much used to bother her. But this year it was like all the things she’d brushed off, laughed off or hadn’t even thought about had hit home. Was it because she was turning thirty next birthday? Was it because Reeva had met a man and fallen deeply in love and married in the same year? Was it because her mom and dad had sat her down prior to the start of the wedding festivities and told her she was wasting her
life and her education and reproductive years? Yes, her father had said that. Her cheeks heated with shame. If he only knew!

  But no. She hadn’t told her parents that she was expecting or settling down in Marietta. What would disappoint them more—that she wouldn’t come home to Denver or that she’d gotten pregnant before marriage? And did her parents’ and their massive social groups’ opinion matter that much to her? Was she as focused on public opinion as she’d accused Beck of being?

  Ashni would have scoffed at that concept. It’s not like her parents had ever approved of Beck in the first place. The ranch and rodeo had made them nervous, and as the relationship progressed, they’d worried she’d lose sight of her goals.

  And she had.

  But that was her fault—not Beck’s. He was right. This year she’d just been so dissatisfied, but she’d said nothing. How could he be her partner when she didn’t share the bad as well as the good?

  All she knew now was that she wanted to have purpose. Her own identity. Would working at the public health department and teaching art and science classes on the weekends or after school provide it? Would being a mother provide it? She stopped in her tracks. Her hand drifted down to flatten over her abdomen. Life grew there. She was responsible for another human.

  “And I have to get my head on straight before you arrive, mister.”

  A boy. She was convinced she was having a boy. And a boy would want and need a father. She’d created the rift with Beck so she could get some breathing room. Now she needed to stop panicking that she wasn’t strong enough and start bridging the gap.

  Ashni finished rounding the park without seeing Beck. It had probably been a long shot. If he were mad, he’d probably take a drive to cool down. Head out to his favorite part of the ranch, Plum Hill, and sit somewhere and take in the view.

  “Hey, I thought you left with Beck,” Sky, walking with her husband off the dance floor spotted her and called out.

  Ashni hesitated. She didn’t feel fit for company.

  “We did.” She blushed. “But then I…we…I—”

  “Baby.” Kane kissed his wife and pulled her into his arms. “I’ll wait for you at the table. You’re not too tired?”