by Leslie North
Scout waited until another bulge appeared, this time right in the center of her belly.
“Soccer player? Or football?” he asked around a grin he couldn’t seem to stop.
“I’m thinking a swimmer because I can’t tell if that’s a head or an elbow or a heel.”
They lay together, his hand on her middle until the movements subsided.
“Think he’s going back to sleep,” Scout said quietly.
“It’s past his bedtime,” she answered before turning her head and kissing him lightly on the lips.
“Well, you both need your sleep.”
“But you need something else,” she said, rolling away from him onto her side and shimmying her butt up against his cock. It instantly woke back up, and his hardened length slid between her soft thighs.
“It’s okay,” he said, trying to pull away. But she reached behind and wrapped a hand around his firm glute. Her fingernails digging into his muscle sent his thoughts to very good places.
“I want more,” she announced, thrusting back toward him. “It’s fine, I promise.”
He pressed his lips against the back of her neck, smelling the lemon of her shampoo. “Then c’mere,” he murmured, reaching down and pulling her top leg over his hip. He stroked his cock back and forth a few times, coating it with her slick heat, then he plunged in and began to pump gently, his head full of sparks and dreams and something so painfully sweet, he had no words for it. It was simply the most beautiful thing he’d ever felt, and it washed through him like liquid gold until he was so filled with it, he groaned into the dark, into Stella’s long soft hair, into the future he finally knew he could have.
16
“So, I’m thinking I could design the procedures, then hire less expensive subcontractors to do the on-site work that I used to do. It wouldn’t cost the agency any more than what they would have given me to do both parts of the project in the past.”
Kit nodded, her gaze on Stella across the table at Nadine’s. Lunch with Kit and Ava had become a weekly ritual, and Stella was especially happy this week to run some of her ideas by friends before she presented them to Scout.
“So you could do all that without any travel?” Ava asked as she stuffed a spoonful of mashed potato into baby Janelle’s plump lips.
“Yes, it’s all the research and planning work I normally do before I leave for a project anyway. I’ll give the plans to the other consultant, they’ll travel to the site to implement it, and if they run into problems, I’m on call and ready to troubleshoot from here.”
Kit grinned. “I think you’re a genius, Stella.”
Stella smiled back as she reached for her iced tea. She was pretty proud of the idea.
“So you’ll be taking a pay cut, but that won’t matter since you have your granddad’s house free and clear, right?” Ava asked.
Kit reached out and moved the salt shaker from Janelle’s reach, then handed the baby a cracker instead. Janelle shoved the saltine in the general vicinity of her mouth and began cooing as she slobbered on it.
Stella watched with a look of intense interest, then shook her head slightly as if to clear it. “That’s the part of the plan I need your advice on,” she said, looking first at Kit, then at Ava. “You know Scout’s always wanted to buy the farm. And I had promised him I’d sell it to him, but that was before we knew I was pregnant.”
She paused and put her finger out toward Janelle, who grabbed it and gummed it, abandoning the cracker. Stella broke into a smile as wide as the Texas sky.
“So now, if I’m going to stay here and raise the baby, I’ll need to keep the farm—for a place to live. I want the baby to grow up in our family house. It’s been a Steadman home for three generations, and this little guy—” she patted her belly, “will be the fourth.”
“Why am I sensing there’s some sort of problem here, but I can’t figure out what it is?” Kit mused.
Stella shrugged. “I don’t know how much the farm brings in and how much of that I get to keep. I won’t know if I can afford to give away a good portion of my consulting fees to a subconsultant until I find out how much revenue the farm nets. I don’t even know what Scout’s salary is. I haven’t paid any attention to all that because I assumed I’d be selling it. Now I’m not.”
“Well, I’m sure Scout has all that information,” Ava said absentmindedly, wiping off Janelle’s face with a napkin. “Just ask him.”
Kit studied Stella. “It’s a little awkward though, isn’t it?”
Stella had to admit that it was. “I’ve helped out with some projects around the farm, sort of stood in for Scout when he was busy, but we haven’t discussed the nitty-gritty. I’ve assumed if Grandpa trusted him, then I could, too, and I left it at that.”
“Oh, hon.” Ava finally turned away from Janelle. “You’re going to be partners in all this. Raising the baby, managing the business. You need to be able to talk about it. It’s what grownups do.”
Stella nodded. “You’re right. There’s no reason to think he’ll have a problem with it. He’s the one who wanted me to stay and raise the baby here. He knows this is complicated for me. Surely he’s going to want to help however he can?”
Kit agreed. “Exactly. And when I agreed to move back here with Hunter, we had to have some of those same talks. I didn’t want to work for him, I wanted to be equals, so he let me buy into the practice so it was mine too. But we had to agree on installments and salaries. We had to have grownup discussions, and it’s not always easy, but it’s always worth it.”
“Don’t listen to her. She never did finish buying her half of the practice, Hunter just up and proposed.”
Kit slapped Ava on the arm, and Stella laughed.
“We haven’t even officially agreed that Scout’s living in the main house yet,” Stella said before leaning over and kissing little Janelle on her soft cheek. “We’ll start by talking about how much my new farm earns.”
“If it’s a lot, you can buy lunch next week.” Ava lifted Janelle out of her high chair. “That’s right,” she cooed. “Aunty Stella’s going to buy us all a big fancy steak lunch.”
“Well, congratulations,” Bran said as Scout raked out a stall in the barn on Bran’s ranch.
“Thanks,” Scout said, a smile working its way across his face. “I’m pretty happy.”
Bran lifted a bale of straw from the stack at the end of the barn aisle and dropped it into the freshly cleaned stall. Then he pulled a fork from the wall and began to break up the bedding.
“So dare I ask if you’re going to propose now that she’s agreed to stay?”
Scout rolled his eyes. “Let’s just take things one step at a time.”
Bran chuckled. “If you’re not getting married, how’s it going to work?”
Scout began to rake out the next stall, and as usual, Bran was killing his buzz. “We’re not sure yet. She’s figuring out her stuff, and my stuff’s…” He shrugged. “It’s the same as my stuff always is.”
Bran barked out a loud laugh. “Oh, little brother, you really don’t know what the hell you’re doing, do you?”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Scout looked at the clock on the barn wall and wondered if he could get out of there in the next five minutes before Bran completely ruined his mood.
“You’re going to have a baby and live with its mama. Your ‘stuff’ will never be the same again.”
Scout raked a pile of horse manure just a touch too zealously and watched as it hit Bran’s boots. He smirked though Bran didn’t give any indication of noticing.
“Okay, Mr. I know everything, explain to me what’s going to change? I’ll buy the farm, run the farm, and live at the farm. See? All the same.”
Bran stopped spreading straw and leaned on the handle of the fork. “So she’s still going to sell you the farm even though she’s staying?” His brow knit in confusion.
Scout felt something beneath his ribs twist just a touch. “We have an agreement, so yes.”
“But she’s giving up her job and her place in New York…”
“And she’ll live on the farm just like she is now. I’m not going to let her starve.”
“But you’re not going to marry her, either.”
Scout dug a hand into his hair in frustration. “What damn difference does it make?”
“A hell of a lot,” Bran snapped. “You’re leaving her with nothing but your goodwill. She will have sold her only asset, given up her job and her apartment—what’s to say you won’t get tired of the whole thing and kick her out?”
Scout’s temper flared then, his face heating at the mere suggestion. “I would never, and you know it.” His voice was low and angry.
Bran gazed at him steadily. “I might know that, but does Stella?”
“And besides,” Scout added. “She won’t be without assets, she’ll have the proceeds from the sale of the farm. Same as she would have if she’d taken the baby and headed back to New York.”
“Except then she would have had a job and an apartment.”
Scout wanted to scream. “But here she’ll have me.”
“Not legally,” Bran murmured. “And if it’s not legal, then she’s lost her family home, the business that could support her and the baby, and her job.” He gave Scout a hard look. “It doesn’t sound like a great bargain to me.”
Scout leaned the rake against the wall very carefully and turned toward the door of the barn. “This is why I didn’t come to work for you when I graduated,” he said quietly. “You don’t think I’m a ‘great bargain.’ It’s taken me years to prove myself to you and Hunter but you still find fault in me. You don’t respect what I do or how I do it or why. You think just because I haven’t asked her to marry me, I’ll leave her and the baby high and dry. And you think she’s a fool to wind up with me.”
“Scout, you know that’s not—”
Scout sliced a hand through the air, silencing his older brother.
“You don’t understand me, and after all these years, after everything I’ve accomplished at that farm, you still don’t think I’m worth a damn.” He turned back then, facing Bran. “But it doesn’t matter what you think because Stella and I are going to be fine. She trusts me, and I’ll take care of her, wedding ring or no.”
His words floated in the air of the barn as he walked to his truck and cranked the engine.
Bran didn’t understand. But Scout knew Stella would. They’d be just fine. The three of them didn’t need anyone but each other. That was all that mattered.
17
Stella set the platter of ribs on the table and smiled at Scout before she sat down.
“It looks great,” he told her with a grin. “I hope you didn’t push yourself too hard cooking all this.”
“I feel great, actually. I think this last trimester is going to be really smooth. I’m going to start doing a few things at Crops for Kids again tomorrow, and I’ve had a good idea about how to handle my job once the baby’s born.”
Scout stopped, a rib midway to his mouth. “That’s fantastic. Tell me all about it.”
Stella explained the idea of subcontracting the parts of the job that required travel. She’d still be the prime contractor, the agencies she worked with would be assured of her know-how and experience, but she’d send younger, less encumbered hires to do the on-site work.
“I think that’s a fantastic idea,” he told her, his eyes shining with pride. “I knew your smarts would figure it out. And you could take on more than one contract at a time this way, too. Maybe have a couple or three subs out doing the work you coordinate.”
Stella’s heart swelled at Scout’s faith in her. He really believed she could do this, and that made all the difference in the world.
Then she decided to broach the rest of the plans.
“I’d like that. I think I’m going to have to try it a few times first to see how it all works. And I’d like to get a few people who I know can be trusted to do a good job before I attempt more than one project at a time.”
She paused, taking a sip of her water before moving on. “But since I won’t have my full income anymore, I’d like to take a look at the farm revenues so I can see how much I really have to live on and budget for the baby’s expenses.”
Scout’s brow furrowed and he cocked his head in confusion. “What do you mean?”
“Well, the farm books. After you’ve paid everything and everyone, how much money did my grandpa typically take for his own expenses?”
Scout stiffened. “What difference would that make?”
“Well, I’m hoping that whatever he was living on is enough to supplement my contract income. I doubt Grandpa took a lot, but I can try to work with it, and maybe there’s a way to trade some childcare with Ava so I don’t have to pay for that when I need to work on my projects.”
“But you’re selling the farm,” Scout said, clearing his throat awkwardly before he pushed back from the table. “To me.”
Stella’s heart thumped hard against her ribcage.
“When I was going to go back to New York—”
“You agreed, you said you didn’t want to run a farm and you’d sell it to me at market value.” Scout’s eyes had taken on a coldness that made a shiver run through Stella.
“But you want me to raise the baby here—”
He stood and interrupted her at the same time, pacing to the kitchen counter and back as he talked. “Of course I want to raise him here, so I can see him and be part of his life.”
“To do that, I need a home and a source of income.”
He spun on her. “And you’ll have it. You said you’re going to keep getting contracts, and you can live here. Whatever other money you need, I can give you. Jesus, Stella, I’m not expecting you to pay for everything. He’s my kid, too.”
She stared at him as she realized she didn’t really know him at all. It had only been three months. This had all happened so fast. Why had she assumed everything would be okay?
Stella knew better than to rely on others. Other people left. Other people changed their minds. Other people forgot they’d promised to sew your quilt and left you high and dry. She couldn’t possibly agree to a plan where everything relied on Scout.
“I know you mean well, but I can’t…” She swallowed, wishing she had never come home, never told him she was pregnant. Because now she’d gone and gotten attached, hoped for something she never should have hoped for. Damn him. “I can’t sell the farm to you if I stay here. I need something of my own I can rely on. A place to live. An income.”
Scout’s hands fisted at his side, and she could see him struggling to maintain his composure. “I don’t think you understand, Stella,” he told her softly. “I’ve invested six years of my life into this farm. I did it because I love it, and I did it because I cared about your granddad. But I also did it because it’s my dream to own my own business. I’ve worked night and day for over half a decade to own my own place. And not just any old place—this place. Your grandfather knew that, and then he left you the farm anyway hoping I’d understand. You knew that and promised me you’d sell when the terms of the will had been met but now you’re reneging too.”
“Scout.” Her voice was filled with so much regret, she saw him flinch.
He shook his head sadly. “You stay, then,” he told her. “You stay, and you keep the farm. I’ll be here for the baby, but I no longer work here. I can’t.” His gaze was tortured. “I can’t be with you…or this place…anymore.”
He turned and walked out the door, and Stella sat, stunned to her very bones, looking at the ruins of their dinner, in the emptiness that was now all hers.
Scout put his last suitcase in the bed of the truck and climbed into the cab. He could see the window of Stella’s room lit up, and it was all he could do to keep from storming in and demanding she do what he wanted—trust him. Trust he’d take care of her and the baby. Trust he’d run the business well. Trust he loved her. Because he did—and no, he hadn’t sa
id it, but if she hadn’t figured it out by now, then he couldn’t imagine the words would make any difference.
He started the engine and rolled out down the driveway, an ache settling in his chest. He’d already left a message for Lonny telling him he’d have to take over the day-to-day until Stella hired a new foreman. But as he turned onto the county road at the end of the drive and the farm sat silently behind him in his rearview mirror, it took everything he had not to damn weep. His heart, his soul, and his baby were back there, and what lay ahead was as dark and empty as the little two-lane road ahead of him.
Twenty minutes later, he pulled into the driveway of his family’s ranch. The place he’d grown up, the place he’d vowed he would never need again. Because needing his family had hurt when he was twenty-one and his parents had both died. It had hurt every time his parents or his brothers made him question their faith in him. It felt a lot better to be on his own, away from all the reminders, away from the expectations of two older brothers who always had it all together. Away from their looks of regret, much like the one Stella had given him, away from their looks of concern. Scout could put up with a lot if there was something he wanted, but he was a grown man and he’d be damned if he’d be talked down to as if he were a teenager again.
The door to the ranch house opened before he’d even killed the engine. Bran stood on the front porch, squinting out into the darkness as Scout slowly climbed out of the truck. God. He’d never been so tired in his entire life. He felt like an old man.
As he climbed the steps, Bran gave him a small smile and a nod. “You comin’ in for a bit?” he asked, glancing at the duffle bag in Scout’s hand.
Scout cleared his throat. “I uh, know Cam’s got my old room…”
Bran clapped him on the shoulder, but not too hard, then left his hand there as he led him inside. “Good thing the old guestroom is made up, then,” he said.