Wild, Crazy Hearts

by Melissa Foster

  He drew back to weigh the honesty in her eyes. “You did miss me,” he growled with more than a little surprise. “You fucking destroy me, Mustang.”

  A wicked grin curved her lips, and she wrinkled her nose, tripping up his heart as only she could, and said, “Shut up and kiss me.”

  He kissed her hard and deep, until she was whimpering needily. He eased his efforts to torturously slow and intensely deep, greedily taking whatever she was willing to give. He’d missed everything about her—their fights, their kisses, their sexual electricity, which never failed to blow him away. He slid his hand down the side of her breast, along her ribs and waist, and brushed his thumb over the new little curve of her belly. His heart ached, but he didn’t want to think about the reasons why.

  He stepped toward the bedroom, and she tore her mouth away, worry simmering in her eyes.

  “Wait,” she said breathlessly.

  “Don’t worry, darlin’. I’ve seen your messy room before.”

  “It’s not that. We can’t.” She pushed out of his arms and tugged her sweatshirt down. “You don’t want me, Trace.”

  He glanced down at his throbbing erection and said, “I think we both know that’s not true.”

  Hurt rose in her eyes. She lifted her chin defiantly and said, “I’m a package deal now. You need to go.”

  Every muscle in his body corded with that harsh reality. “Brindle—”

  “Don’t. Just go.” She crossed her arms over her stomach and looked down at the floor.

  Damn it. “You really want me to leave?”

  She nodded sullenly.

  “I’ve waited months to see you, to hold you, to laugh with you, to kiss you. Leaving is the last thing I want to do.”

  The apartment door opened and Morgyn peeked in. “Knock, kno—oh. Sorry. Am I interrupting? Your door wasn’t closed all the way.”

  “No.” Trace looked at Brindle, and she shifted her eyes away. “I’m just on my way out.” He gritted his teeth, sure they’d crack he’d done it so often lately.

  He picked up his hat, and as he turned to leave, “Sorry” fell from Brindle’s lips like a secret.

  Not half as sorry as I am.

  “OH MY GOD, Brindle. What was that all about?” Morgyn asked after Trace left.

  Morgyn had braided aqua ribbons into two locks of her hair, which framed her face. She was wearing an aqua-and-tan fringed wool poncho with skinny jeans and cowgirl boots she’d decorated with colorful belts and feathers, and she looked too bright for the dark mood hanging over Brindle.

  “I screwed up, Morg,” Brindle said as she sank down to the couch.

  Morgyn sat beside her. “By the looks of Trace, I’d say you didn’t screw anything. I swear testosterone was seeping from his pores. He looked ready to explode.”

  “Yeah, we’re always like that. Combustible, and arguing only makes us even hotter for each other.” She nibbled on her lower lip, tasting Trace and struggling to keep from falling apart.

  “I know you guys are. That’s why I’m here.” Morgyn’s brows knitted. “Brindle, why didn’t you tell me about Andre? We talked so many times while you were in Paris, and I even said something about you and that guy hooking up. You swore it wasn’t like that. Why did you lie to me?”

  Tears slipped down Brindle’s cheeks. “I didn’t lie to you. I lied to everyone else. The baby isn’t Andre’s. It’s Trace’s.” The words were out before she could stop them.

  Morgyn gasped. “Trace’s?”

  “Yes. I’m due at the beginning of March. But you can’t tell anyone that until I figure out how to tell Trace.” Brindle pushed to her feet, her heart slamming against her ribs. “I never intended to lie to Trace or to anyone else. But last night the first thing Trace did was accuse me of spreading my legs for some guy in Paris. Do you know how much that hurt?” She paced, swiping at her tears. “And then Sable was all ‘What’s his name?’ and I didn’t want her to say or do anything to Trace, because he didn’t know.”

  “Oh God, Brin. Did you tell him just now?”

  Shaking her head, she slumped onto the couch and covered her eyes as she sobbed.

  “When I came home, I thought he’d want us. That it might take some getting used to, but he’d want me and the baby. But he doesn’t. He told me he didn’t want a kid, and that if he were the guy from Paris, he’d do right by me anyway.” She looked at Morgyn and said, “I don’t want him to be with me just because he feels obligated—” Sobs stole her voice.

  Morgyn held her as she cried. “It’s okay. We’ll figure this out. He’s just hurt and angry right now. If you think we were shocked that he wasn’t the father, how do you think he feels?”

  “I don’t care anymore. He hurt me so bad. Do you have any idea what it felt like when he asked if I stayed in Paris because some stranger got me pregnant? I mean, come on. I have a little belly already. Do the math! I can’t…I just…We’re done!” Even though she couldn’t see Morgyn’s face, she said, “And don’t roll your eyes. I mean it this time.”

  Morgyn leaned back and smiled. Her smiles were so honest, they were contagious, and exactly what Brindle needed at the moment. “I rolled them.”

  “You suck,” Brindle said with a choked laugh, brushing her tears away.

  “You’ve been done with him at least once a month for so many years, I could track it like a period.”

  Brindle fell back with a groan and stared up at the ceiling, protectively putting one hand over her belly. “I know. That’s why I went to Paris in the first place, because I felt so much for him, but we’re always so intense, I wasn’t sure if it was real.”

  “Oh, it’s real, and everyone knows it. You’re both so full of passion, you can’t help it.” Morgyn said it so matter-of-factly, it felt true. “I used to think the way you two were either madly in love or at each other’s throats was a problem, but after the first four or five years, I knew it was just who you two were.”

  “It took you that long?” Brindle said teasingly, because she needed levity or she was going to cry forever.

  Morgyn smiled and said, “I don’t remember exactly. But I’ve also learned a lot from being with Graham. You know how some guys thought I was flighty?”

  “That’s because they were idiots. You’re brilliant and whimsical.”

  “Thanks, but we both know I’m not everyone’s cup of tea. But Graham loves all of me. He understands my inability to plan and my love of following the universal energy where it takes me. He knows that’s who I am, and without all those pieces of myself I wouldn’t be me. He says he loves not knowing what I’ll come up with next. I think that’s how you and Trace are. You’re both bullheaded about some things, and you love so hard, it comes out in arguments, but they’re not hateful arguments. They’ve never been hateful arguments. I mean, right now he’s hurt, and rightfully so, and you are, too. But usually you’re both just too stubborn to admit how you feel about each other, so you get hurt or jealous, and you argue. Let’s face it, Brin, if you guys weren’t so volatile, you’d probably get bored.”

  Brindle looked at her sister, wondering when she’d gotten so relationship savvy. “So, basically, you think I’m a freak who can’t have a calm, stable relationship?”

  “I never said freak,” Morgyn teased.

  “I hate you a little right now, but you might be right. Not about my inability to have a stable relationship, but about the getting bored part. I don’t like easy, do I?”

  “You don’t even know the meaning of the word.” Morgyn picked up the ice cream container and handed it to Brindle. “So, you’re going to tell him the baby is his, right?”

  Brindle stirred the melted ice cream. “Right now I’m going to eat this and anything else I can find.” She ate a spoonful of ice cream, remembering the venom in Trace’s voice when he’d accused her of being pregnant by someone else. “He really hurt me.”

  “He’s hurt, too. How would you feel if he…?”

  “Came home pregnant?” Brindle smiled.
“It’s not fair that things don’t work that way. I don’t even know how he could tell I was pregnant. I’m not that big.”

  “You’re not big, but you have a little pooch, and we were all still in shock when he joined us last night. I think he heard us saying, Pregnant? Brindle’s pregnant? And then he looked at your belly, and it was like a light went off in his eyes. Sable and I wanted to go after you when you took off, but Mom told us not to.”

  “Were Mom and Dad mad? They said they’re not mad or embarrassed, but…”

  “No, which surprised all of us. But Mom said that we all probably thought you were full of piss and vinegar, but that you’re human, like the rest of us, and beneath that tough exterior is a sensitive, loving girl who was probably scared shitless, or something like that.”

  “I didn’t know how scared I was until I saw Trace. I’m glad you didn’t follow us, because it would have hurt more if you had heard him accuse me of sleeping with someone else.” Brindle stirred the ice cream and said, “I want to tell him the truth, but now I know he’d stick by me even though he doesn’t want the baby. I need time to figure out how and when to tell him. You can’t say anything.”

  “Give me that.” Morgyn gestured toward the ice cream container. “Now I’m stressing out.” She took the ice cream from Brindle and said, “I’ll give you a week.”

  “What are you? The pregnancy police?”

  “No! But I can’t keep secrets. You know that about me.”

  “Morgyn!” Brindle grabbed her arm and said, “Oh God, you can’t tell Graham.”

  Morgyn’s eyes widened. “What? I won’t lie to Graham. If he outright asks if the baby is Trace’s, I’m telling him. But don’t worry. He’s good at keeping secrets.” She shoveled ice cream into her mouth. “I hate secrets.”

  “Can’t you just kiss him every time he brings up the pregnancy? Distract him from asking anything too specific?”

  “I can’t lie to Mom, either.” Morgyn ate more ice cream. “Do you want me to kiss her, too?”

  “I forgot that you with a secret is like using the withdrawal method as birth control. It’s only a matter of time before you spill your secrets in all the wrong places.” Brindle answered the question in her sister’s eyes. “No, we didn’t do that. You know I use the birth control patch. I’m just the lucky one percent it didn’t work for.”

  “Oh, Brindle.” Morgyn set down the ice cream container and said, “You know what this is?”

  “Do not say it,” Brindle warned. Her sister believed the universe guided her, while Brindle believed life was what she made of it, and sometimes accidents happened.

  Morgyn grinned. “I’m sayin’ it.”

  Brindle covered her ears and closed her eyes. “Nanananana. I can’t hear you!”

  Laughing, Morgyn pulled Brindle’s hands from her ears and said, “It’s fate! You and Trace have annoyed the universe into taking steps beyond your control.”

  Brindle rolled her eyes.

  They talked and ate soupy ice cream and cookies, and then Morgyn helped Brindle unpack. Brindle told her about the forgotten gifts and how that just added to her guilt. By the time they plopped down in front of the television, Brindle felt a little better. But still a little off, and she knew it was because she needed to tell Trace the truth.

  “Were you scared when you first found out?” Morgyn asked later that evening.

  “I was a lot of things, and scared was definitely one of them. But never once did I consider not having this baby, so I figured that was a sign.”

  “See? You do believe in signs!”

  “No, but I believed in me and Trace.”

  Chapter Five

  TUESDAY WAS LADIES’ night at JJ’s Pub, and as Trace looked over the sea of horny cowboys and scantily dressed women on the dance floor, he couldn’t ignore the pinch in his chest. He’d come to JJ’s without Brindle while she was in Paris, and he’d hated every minute of it. But it beat the alternative, sitting alone in his cabin thinking about her. He’d spent the last two days trying to keep from going to see her, but all that did was make him an angry bastard.

  “Have you seen Shane?” Jeb asked, sliding onto the barstool beside Trace.

  Trace hiked a thumb in the direction of the mechanical bull. “Lindsay told him the girls had a bet about how long he could stay on.” Lindsay was one of Brindle’s best friends, and it had taken everything Trace had not to ask her or Trixie if they’d spoken to her. He took a drink of his beer.

  “Hey, JJ,” Jeb called over the bar. “Hit me up when you get a sec.”

  JJ lifted his chin in acknowledgment as he helped a gaggle of women.

  Jeb straightened his ever-present baseball cap with the FARM BOY patch on the front. Like Trace, Jeb was proud of his country-boy roots. He locked serious eyes on Trace and said, “Why aren’t you out on the dance floor?”

  “Not feeling it tonight.” Trace thumbed out a text to Brindle. It’s Tuesday night. You coming out? He met his brother’s watchful eyes and said, “But Sable’s band is really killin’ it, huh?”

  “Yeah. Did you hear Tuck’s solo? That dude is awesome.” Tuck Wilder had gone to school with Trace. He was an incredible guitarist with cocoa skin and what Brindle called soulful eyes, but he’d had a hell of a life. His parents were rough as nails, and he’d been in and out of juvie since losing his twin a while back.

  “The guy can play.” Trace’s phone vibrated with a message from Brindle. He read it as Justus set a beer down in front of Jeb. I’m pretty sure pregnant women aren’t supposed to hang out in bars.

  Jeb eyed the phone and said, “She’s pregnant with another guy’s kid. You’ve got to move on, man.”

  Trace thumbed out another text, ignoring his brother. Are your legs broken?

  “I’m serious, Trace.” Jeb took a swig of his beer. “You know I love Brindle. The two of you have had great times together, but you’re setting yourself up to be let down, and I’m not about to let that happen.”

  Trace lifted his eyes to Justus, expecting to either catch more shit or maybe support, but he shrugged and said, “Hey, man, I’m staying out of this one.”

  The band took a break, which amplified the silence between Trace and Jeb. Trace leveled a warning glare on Jeb and said, “I’ve had her back for more than a decade. I’m not stopping now.”

  Jeb nodded. “You’re loyal, Trace. I respect that. But she’s made a choice, and someone’s got to look out for you, because I’m not sure you’re thinking straight. Hell, I don’t think any one of us would be in a situation like this. I think you need to give her some space, man.”

  “I’ve spent years playing by her rules, and I’ve spent the last two days keeping my distance. I’m done with all the bullshit.” Trace’s phone vibrated with another text from Brindle—a GIF of a pregnant woman dancing.

  Space was exactly what she didn’t need. Brindle didn’t do well with space. She liked people, camaraderie, attention. She liked to be taken care of, despite acting like she didn’t need it. She needed a man who took control, but she also needed to feel like she was the one holding the reins. Nobody knew her like Trace did, and though he appreciated his brother’s efforts, he didn’t need his coaching. Not where Brindle was concerned.

  “Good. I’m glad to hear it,” Jeb said.

  “Now, how about you worry about yourself?” Trace finished his beer just as Sable sauntered over.

  She took off her cowboy hat and shook out her thick brown hair as she called over the bar to Justus, “Hey, handsome, how about a beer?”

  “You got it, darlin’,” Justus said with a wink.

  She put her hat back on and set her hands on her hips, eyeing Trace. “Morgyn said you were over at Brindle’s yesterday.” Her jeans were painted on, her leather belt was the same dark color as her hair, her tight, V-neck shirt had SURGE imprinted across the front, and her green eyes held a threat that brought Trace to his feet.

  “So…?”

  “So, she’s my baby sister.” Sable
crossed her arms, as if the look in her eyes should be enough to shut him up.

  “She’s hardly a baby.” Nothing would shut him up where Brindle was concerned. “If you’ve got something to say, spit it out, because I’ve got someplace to be.”

  “She’s pregnant, Trace, and despite her I-can-handle-anything attitude, she’s got a lot of shit to deal with. She doesn’t need whatever brand of bullshit you’re bringing.”

  “That’s where you’re wrong.” Trace picked up his cowboy hat from the bar and put it on, his gaze never wavering from Sable’s. “If anyone knows what Brindle needs, it’s me.”

  He turned to leave, and Jeb pushed to his feet. “Hold up. I’ll go with you.”

  Trace looked over his shoulder and said, “I’ll be back. Why don’t you and Sable have a drink? Maybe it’ll chill you both out.”

  “AXSEL, YOU SHOULD have heard the rumors going around school,” Brindle said into the phone as she paced her apartment. “Yesterday everyone was whispering and giving me sideways looks. Even some of the other teachers gave me the stink eye, as if they’ve never had sex.” Her brother had called to check on her, and he couldn’t have called at a better time. She’d had no idea what to do with herself after work. She usually went out with Sable or Morgyn, and if they were busy, she went out with Lindsay and Trixie. But she was pregnant, and they were at JJ’s Pub. If she showed up there, she’d spark even more rumors.

  “That sucks, Brin. But you survived your first day back. Was today any better?”

  She sighed. “Yeah, a little. I know it’ll take some time for the rumor mill to calm down. Remember Natalie? The sophomore who helps me with drama club? We got together after school to go over some details for next week’s drama club meeting and she told me there were all sorts of crazy rumors going around, like I don’t know who the father is because I was with so many guys in Paris and that I married the father and then left him. Where do they get this shit? Can you believe my students are actually discussing this?”