Wild, Crazy Hearts

by Melissa Foster

  “There isn’t much else to do in Oak Falls besides stir up trouble.”

  “I know you think that. You couldn’t wait to escape and make your mark on the world, but I love it here, so hopefully this will die down.” She thought about telling Axsel the truth about Trace, but she promised herself she wouldn’t tell anyone else until she told Trace.

  “It will. You know how these things go. When I came out there were rumors for weeks, remember?”

  “Yes. But then Trace told everyone he was bisexual, and he got his brothers to do the same. That shut everyone up.” She’d been floored that Trace had put himself in that position for her brother, and she’d been equally grateful and proud of him. “No one knew what to believe.”

  “Yeah, except he got my hopes up.” Axsel laughed.

  “Back off, big boy.”

  “Hey, when he came over the other day—before you sucked face—did you ask him about Heather Ray?”

  “Oh shoot! No. I totally forgot.” Her heart sank. “I guess it’s a good thing I didn’t sleep with him.”

  “Are you trying to convince yourself?”

  “I don’t know, Ax. I miss him.”

  “That’s why I waited until Tuesday to call. I know you guys hit JJ’s Tuesday nights. I wish I were there. I’d go to JJ’s with you and we could dance the night away.”

  “I don’t think I’ll be going there anytime soon. Knowing me, someone will say something obnoxious and I’ll deck them. Then there will be a hair-pulling bitch fight, which I’ll win with one knee to the gut, because I can’t let anything happen to the tender morsel I’m carrying, and it’ll fuel even more rumors.”

  “Wow. You really ran with that one, didn’t you, sis? You don’t hit people. You give verbal lashings. But just in case those pregnancy hormones are changing that, let it be known that I don’t think you should be decking anyone. And what about me? I’d stand up for you.”

  “Oh please. You’ll be too busy checking out the guys who are watching us, because everyone knows guys love girl fights—and you love guys. See? Win-win.”

  There was a knock at her door, and she said, “Someone’s here. Care to wager on who it is? Five bucks says it’s Sable wanting Andre’s address and phone number so she can go knock some sense into him.” Which is exactly why she can’t find out this is Trace’s baby.

  “I’m surprised she wasn’t waiting on your doorstep Saturday night. I’ve got to go, too. Call me anytime, and let me know what our hot cowboy says about Heather. Love you!”

  “Love you, too. Good luck with the tour.” She ended the call and answered the door.

  Her broody cowboy barreled in. “Get your hot ass dressed, Mustang. We’re going dancing.”

  “Um, no, we’re not,” she said as she closed the door behind him. She crossed her arms and said, “Maybe you should take Heather Ray dancing.”

  “What?” His brows slanted in confusion. “Let’s go. It’s Tuesday.”

  She pressed her lips together, looking at him expectantly.

  “You seriously think I slept with Heather?”

  “You’ve hooked up with her before.”

  He crossed his arms with a freaking smirk on his face. “I’ve never slept with Heather.”

  “Don’t even try to play semantics with me, country boy. I’ve got a vocabulary list way longer than that python in your pants.”

  He stepped closer. Heat rolled off his body, circling her from the ground up, consuming her like a whirlpool. Her mouth went bone dry as he stared into her eyes and said, “I like knowing you’re thinking about the python in my pants.”

  “Ugh!” She pushed past him. “You fucked Heather. Go get her.”

  “I didn’t fuck Heather,” he seethed.

  She rolled her eyes. “Okay, let’s see, hooked up with, banged, or the one that makes me sick to my stomach—made love to.”

  “Brindle,” he warned with fire in his eyes.

  “Everyone knows you left the barn bash with her, so don’t play me for a fool.”

  He strode across the room until his chest and thighs bumped hers, hulking over her as he said, “You’re nobody’s fool, Brindle. Come on. Get dressed. We’re going to JJ’s, and you can ask Heather for yourself.”

  She scoffed. “That’s just what I want to do, right after I shoot myself in the foot.”

  “Fine. Have it your way.” He grabbed her hand and dragged her toward the door.

  “Trace! What are you doing?”

  He stopped, his eye boring into her as he said, “It’s Tuesday night and you’re sitting in the apartment probably bored out of your mind, stewing over me and Heather. That’s not who you are, and one day you’ll realize it’s not who I am, either.” He grabbed her keys from the table by the door and shoved them in his pocket. “We’re going dancing, and we’ll clear up this Heather shit while we’re there.”

  She wrenched her hand free and huffed out a breath. “Since when do you manhandle me?”

  “Darlin’, I’m not manhandling you. I’m saving you from yourself. You’re in no condition to be stressed out over bullshit.”

  “It’s not a condition, and everyone is already talking about me. I have no interest in looking like a jealous ex to one of your trollops and feeding that fire.”

  The corners of his lips tipped up. “Don’t you trust me?”

  “Trust is a very broad subject.” A smile tugged at her lips, and she tried to stop it, but his grin was irresistibly devastating, and it reached all the way up to his eyes, creating the crinkles at the corners that only came when he was being playful. That was the look that had done her in at thirteen. Its effect had only grown stronger with every passing year.

  “You trust me, darlin’, or you never would have let me into your bed. I told you that I’ve got you, and you know I’m a man of my word.” He leaned against the door, crossed his legs at the ankles, and folded his arms over his broad chest. “Now, I’ve spent sixteen Tuesdays without you and I hated every single one of them. It’s our night and I’m not leaving this apartment without you. You can either hurry your pretty little ass up and change your clothes, or not. I think you look hotter than the sun itself in that cute little outfit.”

  She looked down at her black shirt with the shoulder cutouts and lace trim, holey jeans, and cowgirl boots. Her shirt covered the rubber band she’d looped through the buttonhole to create a skosh more room for her belly.

  Trace pushed from the wall, grinning arrogantly as he took her hand and said, “Nobody pens my Mustang in. Let’s go show this town just what they can do with their gossip.”

  Chapter Six

  JJ’S PUB WAS as familiar as the cleft in Trace’s chin, but for the first time in her life, Brindle was nervous about going inside. Why had she let him talk her into coming? After all he’d said, she no longer thought he’d slept with Heather. But she was still nervous about what gossip she might cause by being at a bar when she was pregnant.

  She stopped before the entrance and said, “Wait one sec, please.”

  Trace stopped walking, looking curiously at her.

  “I need a minute. I don’t think this is such a good idea. Everyone’s already talking about me, Trace.”

  “And…?” He stepped closer. “Brin, people have been talking about us since our first kiss. Why do you care?”

  “Because they’re not talking about us. They’re talking about my baby, and I don’t want my baby to grow up shrouded in gossip.”

  He arched a brow. “Darlin’, this is Oak Falls. It wouldn’t matter if you were three-years married; people would find something to gossip about with that pregnancy.”

  He had a point, but still. “I have to think past myself, Trace.” She put her hand beneath her coat, covering her belly. “I don’t want to make things worse.”

  He pressed his rough hand to her cheek, and she leaned into his comforting touch. “Changing your life because of rumors and avoiding the people you like to be with will make things worse. You’re Brindle Montgom
ery, and there is not one woman in that bar who is sexier, funnier, kinder, or smarter than you.”

  “How can you say that with everything we’re going through?”

  The muscles in his jaw bunched, and he seemed to contemplate his answer before finally saying, “Because I know you better than anyone does. I said it before and I’ll say it again. You’re my best friend, and you have been my lover forever. I’m not going to let anyone think you’re any less important to me than you always have been, including you. You’re a pain in my ass, but you’re the only woman I’d let drive me crazy.” He patted his chest with both hands and then he splayed his hands with an arrogant grin. “I’m Trace Jericho, darlin’. If you’re with me, you’re the best there is.”

  He draped an arm over her shoulder and said, “Let’s go have some fun and show people that nothing will stop you from living life on your own terms.”

  “How do you do that?” she asked as they headed inside.

  “What?”

  “Always know how to ease my worries?”

  “Years of trial and error.” He pressed a kiss to her temple and pulled the door open. “After you, beautiful.”

  Music and the scent of cowboys and lost inhibitions greeted them in the dimly lit bar. Adrenaline coursed through Brindle’s veins as the familiar rush of the night enveloped her. Brindle loved music, dancing, and being around people as much as she loved teaching. Both filled her with a sense of irreplaceable happiness. Her mother always said she was born dancing, because even as a toddler she’d preferred dancing to playing with toys. According to her parents, she’d danced when there was no music, as if a beat lived inside her.

  Trace helped her off with her coat and tossed it into JJ’s office on their way in. As they passed the arched entrance to the room with the mechanical bull, Brindle saw Chet Hudson, a local firefighter, riding the bull, and she spotted Lindsay and Trixie in the crowd cheering him on. She couldn’t suppress her smile. She and Trace had been trying to get Chet to ride the bull for months before she’d gone to Paris.

  “Chet’s riding!” she said over the music.

  Trace leaned closer and said, “Sable goaded him into it with a dare.” His eyes heated and he pulled her against him. “You Montgomery girls and your dares. Mm-mm. I know just how hard they are to resist.”

  How could things feel so normal between them when they were anything but?

  Trace kept her close as they weaved through the crowded bar, and Brindle tried to ignore the sideways glances and whispers behind hands. She didn’t have to ignore them for long, because as quickly as she noticed them, Trace shut each one down with a threatening stare.

  “Trace!” Sinclair “Sin” Vernon, the athletic director of the No Limitz youth center, waved them over. He stood by a booth where Jeb and Shane sat drinking beer.

  Brindle tried not to react to the disapproving look in Jeb’s eyes as they approached. Trace must have noticed her bristling, because he lowered his voice and said, “I’ve got you, Brindle. Don’t ever doubt that.”

  She hadn’t ever doubted it, which was why it had hurt so badly when he’d accused her of carrying someone else’s baby. But over the last two days she’d had time to realize Morgyn was right, that Trace had probably said what he had out of hurt. Or at least she hoped so.

  “Hey, man,” Trace said to Sin, and then he looked at Jeb and said, “We’re here to have a good time, so if you’ve got something to say, you say it to me or you wipe that look off your face.”

  “I wasn’t going to say anything.” Jeb shifted a friendlier gaze to Brindle and said, “Congratulations.”

  “Thank you,” she said, but while she loved the way Trace had shut him down, she didn’t want her pregnancy to cause a rift between any of them.

  “Trace, I could really use your help with the youth league for a few hours Saturday, if you’ve got time,” Sin said. He was a big man, like Trace, with dark hair and sharp features.

  “Sure,” Trace said casually, shocking the heck out of Brindle. “I’ll see what I can work out.”

  “Whoa,” Brindle said. “Was that actually a yes?”

  Trace had played football in high school, and he’d gotten a full scholarship to play wide receiver for three West Coast colleges. He’d turned them down, telling Brindle he didn’t want to be that far away from her. Trace had stayed home to work on his family’s ranch. It was a bone of contention between Trace and Brindle, not because he’d never gone to college, but because all she’d ever wanted was for him to be happy. She knew he loved working on the ranch, but she also knew how much he’d enjoyed football and the camaraderie of the team. Brindle had fond memories of watching him and his buddies practice late at night when they were teenagers. Over the years she’d encouraged Trace to do more with football, and when the youth center had opened, she’d pushed harder. It was a topic that had caused several breaks in their relationship over the years.

  Trace shrugged. “It’s not a big deal, Brin.”

  “It’s a huge deal.” She was thrilled that he was taking this step.

  “Well, it sure helps me out,” Sin said. “You’re great with the kids. I really wish you’d think more about coaching next year.” He glanced at Brindle and said, “Maybe you can persuade him to help out the kids around here.”

  “I’ll see what I can do,” she said, already planning to nudge a little harder in that direction.

  Trace looked down at her and shook his head. “Don’t make a big deal out of this.”

  She smiled noncommittally.

  “I was just about to get drinks,” Sin said to Trace. “Help me carry?”

  Trace’s hand slid to Brindle’s lower back, and he said, “Do you want iced tea? Water? Wait, can you have caffeine?”

  “I think so, but water’s good, thanks.” She was still on a high about his helping Sin coach. The fact that he’d thought of her baby’s well-being was icing on the cake.

  Trace pointed at Jeb and said, “Behave.”

  After they walked away, Brindle was too antsy to sit down, and she still felt the need to stand up for herself. “Jeb, I know a disapproving look when I see it,” she said firmly. “I get that you’re protective of Trace, but you know me, and I hope you know that hurting your brother is the last thing I want to do.”

  “I’m sure it is,” Jeb said. “Just tread carefully. He’s not as tough as he lets on.”

  “Brindle!” Trixie gushed as she and Lindsay rushed over and embraced her. “I’m so happy you’re here!” She was as dark as Lindsay was blond. Her hair fell in long layers over the shoulders of her plaid button-down shirt, which was tied at the waist in pure Trixie style.

  “Hi,” Brindle said, glad for their cheerful distraction. “I missed you guys.”

  “We missed you, too, and, girl, we need to talk,” Lindsay said as she and Trixie dragged her away from the table. “And not just about the baby shower I am definitely throwing for you.” Lindsay was an event planner and photographer. She’d handled Grace’s wedding and just about every other major event in the area. “I want all the details on this pregnancy, and the father…”

  “That’s going to have to wait,” Trixie announced. “What is going on with you and Trace? The other night he was ready to kill someone over your pregnancy, and now you two look like nothing’s changed.”

  She glanced at Trace leaning over the bar, women ogling his broad shoulders and muscular ass. Jealousy clawed at her, but he was focused on JJ, not the other women. And he’d come to get her from her apartment when he could have been with any of those women. That made her feel all kinds of good—and all kinds of guilty for lying to him.

  Trace glanced over his shoulder, catching Brindle watching him, and heat rushed to her core.

  But he doesn’t want a child right now, she reminded herself.

  “When have I ever known what Trace and I were doing?” Brindle finally said. “He came to get me, and you know Trace; he wouldn’t take no for an answer.”

  “Well, good,�
� Trixie said. “You should be here with us.”

  Lindsay nodded in agreement. “The entire Oak Falls universe was off-kilter when you were gone. Tuesdays are Trace and Brindle nights, and he was a total grump when you were gone.”

  “Really?” she asked, watching him approach, laughing at something Sin said. All the Jericho men were attractive, but Trace had the sexiest mix of edginess and playfulness, which kept her on her toes—and on my back. She felt her cheeks flame and looked away so he wouldn’t notice as he walked past and set the drinks on the table.

  “Yes, really,” Trixie said. “The big bastard even tagged along with me to pick up a horse from Nick Braden in Pleasant Hill, Maryland. He never does that.” Nick, a freestyle horse trainer, was one of Graham’s brothers. He and Trixie often helped each other out, and he’d been teaching Trixie freestyle training techniques well before Morgyn had met Graham at a music festival in Romance, Virginia.

  “Totally cramped her style,” Lindsay added. “You know that’s where she goes to party with Nick’s sister, Jilly.” Jillian was a clothing designer and she owned a high-end boutique in Maryland.

  Even though Trixie was in her twenties, her brothers were still as overprotective as Sable was, which made it impossible for Trixie to hook up with guys around Oak Falls. They all feared the wrath of the Jericho brothers.

  “Next time you decide to go to Paris, please take Trace with you. I don’t care if you bring him along as a babysitter; just get him away from me,” Trixie said.

  “Speaking of babysitting, I still can’t believe you’re pregnant. How are you breaking it to your students?”

  “Oh gosh, they know. You saw how things went down at the barn bash. Not exactly how I’d planned, but what am I going to do?”

  “Nothing,” Trixie said adamantly. “You don’t have to explain yourself to anyone.”

  “She’s right,” Lindsay said.

  If only that were true. She appreciated their support, but she knew she had to explain things to Trace at some point soon.

  “Come on, let’s dance.” Trixie pulled them onto the dance floor.