Home on the Ranch

by Tanya Michaels

  “Layla, I’m sorry.”

  She blinked. “You’re sorry?”

  “That you went through all of that by yourself. Cole and his wife had another kid a little over a year ago. They were thrilled, but Kate was so sick during that pregnancy. And midway through, one of her test results came back wonky. There were a couple of scary weeks when they thought something might be wrong with the baby. When I think about you facing all of that while I was away at college, sleeping through lectures, changing my mind about my major and hitting on sorority girls...”

  “I don’t need the details.”

  He shoved a hand through his hair, and she had an ill-timed recollection of running her own fingers through it. “I’m older than you—”

  “By less than two years.”

  “—and I was the only one of us with actual sexual experience. If I’d just bothered with a condom—”

  “Then I wouldn’t have the most precious person in my life.” She locked gazes with him, needing him to understand that she’d never once regretted having their daughter. “Jace, the last few years haven’t been easy, but I wouldn’t trade them for anything. Addie Rose is...”

  It should be easy to tell him about Addison. Every time another parent came into the studio, Layla ended up sharing anecdotes about Addie. But now it felt like a monumental task, as if she had to find the exact perfect words to encapsulate her bright, sensitive, complicated child. Words weren’t enough.

  She sat on the top step, patting the space next to her as she pulled her smartphone out of her pocket with her other hand. Tapping the screen, she opened the album labelled Addie. “Here.” There were over one hundred photos. When it came to pictures, she was a digital hoarder.

  He sat down next to her, looking wary. “What’s this?”

  “Your...” She swallowed the lump in her throat. “Our daughter.”

  When he took the phone from her, his hand brushed hers. It was ludicrous that something so small could cause goose bumps, but a mere touch of Jace’s fingertips was still inexplicably potent. The light from her phone cast a glow on his face, and she watched him as he swiped through moments of Addie’s life. There weren’t any baby pictures on the phone, but Layla had kept her favorites from the past two or three years.

  “She’s beautiful,” he said hoarsely. He glanced her way for the briefest of moments before looking back at the screen. “She looks like you.”

  “She has your eyes.”

  The corner of his mouth lifted. “I noticed that earlier. I...looked up photos of her in the gallery on your website.”

  That admission sliced through her. Jace Trent was a good man. He deserved so much more than a few dozen digital images. Still, it wasn’t as if she could wake Addie up tomorrow with, “Guess what! You have a daddy now!” They had to approach this with Addie’s best interests in mind.

  She hesitated to ask questions she might not want the answers to, but forewarned was forearmed. “Have you...told anyone? About her? About us?”

  He set the phone down between them, and her heart pounded with dread.

  “Not yet,” he said finally. “I went over to Cole’s tonight. I value his opinion, and I wanted to vent to someone. But, for whatever reason, I just couldn’t do it. It was too hard. Too much.”

  She nodded, recalling all the times she’d wanted to tell her family the truth. Until tonight with Gena, she’d never managed it.

  “I’m angry with you, Layla. So freaking angry.”

  “I know.”

  “But...I don’t want to be. Part of me understands.”

  Her eyes stung with emotion. Partial understanding was more than she deserved—which made it difficult to ask him for a favor. He didn’t owe her a damn thing. “I know eventually we’ll have to tell our families. But for now, do you think we can keep it between us? I’m not asking for myself, Jace, I swear. But for Addie. We have a lot to figure out before we explain the situation to her.”

  He studied her, but the phone had gone dim and she couldn’t read his expression. “For now,” he agreed. “It won’t be the first time we’ve shared a secret, will it?”

  Her body tingled in remembrance, and she wished she could kiss him. It wasn’t the girlish desire she’d once felt. It was more like the impulse to seal some sort of pact. Or maybe it was meant to soothe away the pain she’d caused him today. Whatever her motivation, she found herself leaning closer. He met her halfway, his hand cupping the nape of her neck. Then his lips were moving against hers, and her toes curled.

  Gone was the nineteen-year-old boy who’d once kissed her tentatively, as if half waiting for her to change her mind. Now, he devoured her. Her own conflicting feelings were echoed in his kiss. There was hunger and sorrow and joy. Even anger—he bit her bottom lip, the slight sting a contradiction to the gentle way he caressed her. He traced his fingers up the back of her neck and threaded them through her hair, tugging her closer.

  He’d shifted so that he was nearly on top of her, and his muscular body pressing into her felt so good that she arched her back. And banged her head on the porch railing. When she winced, he pulled away, his expression sheepish.

  “Guess I got carried away,” he said.

  She rubbed the base of her skull. “You weren’t the only one.” What in the hell was she thinking, practically jumping him in his front yard? Their situation was complex enough without adding lust to the mix. She stood, putting space between them. “We should both get a good night’s sleep and talk during daylight hours.” Good luck—he’ll be just as attractive then as he is in the moonlight.

  Jace rose, too. “Why don’t you come back in the morning? I’ll cook you breakfast.”

  “What? Here? Oh, I wouldn’t want you to go to the trouble. I was thinking a restaurant.” Surrounded by de facto chaperones.

  His chuckle had an edge to it. “What’s the matter, beautiful? Afraid you won’t be able to keep your hands off me if we’re alone?”

  Yes. “Someone certainly has a sizable ego.”

  He winked at her. “Everything’s bigger in Texas.”

  She couldn’t believe, after everything, that he was flirting with her. When she’d driven over here, she hadn’t even known if he would be speaking to her. When he turned on the charm, she melted inside. Apparently, her years away from Cupid’s Bow had not made her immune to Jace Trent. Regardless, she had to make mature choices now; she couldn’t behave like a lovestruck teenager.

  Squaring her shoulders, she asked, “What time should I be here for breakfast?”

  * * *

  He’d been looking at this all wrong.

  By the time Jace watched dawn streak the sky with yellow and pink, he had a whole new perspective. His eyes felt like he’d rubbed them with sandpaper, and he was keyed up from the coffee he’d been drinking for the past hour, but he was grinning from ear to ear. Yesterday, when he’d stumbled across the truth about Addie, he’d been shocked and outraged by Layla’s secret. But if she’d come to him when he was nineteen and told him she was carrying his child, what would he have done? Panicked and fled to Mexico? Grudgingly married her to appease both of their families? He would have been a terrible husband and father. He’d been immature and unprepared for that kind of responsibility.

  But now, now, he was ready. And life had dropped this amazing second chance in his lap. He’d been envying his brothers, wondering when he would have a wife and family of his own, only to discover that he had a child—and that her mama was a woman he’d known and cared about his entire life. He and Layla clearly had chemistry, as well as history together. If the reason she’d left Cupid’s Bow was to keep her secret, it shouldn’t be hard to convince her to come home. She had nothing to lose now. They were in this together.

  He inhaled deeply, appreciating the sunrise through the kitchen window. It’s a brand-new day.

  And, soon, he would begin a b
rand-new chapter of his life. He couldn’t wait for Layla to arrive, couldn’t wait to tell her he’d forgiven her. He imagined her relief and joy, imagined her kissing him, smiling against his mouth. They could pick up where they’d left off last night, but on the much more comfortable king-size bed.

  Ever since he’d encountered her at the hospital last week, he’d wanted her. At first, he’d tried to fight it, feeling like a traitorous friend to Chris, but the situation was different now. Given the circumstances, Chris would probably want them to be a couple—after a brief adjustment period, anyway.

  Balanced on the balls of his feet, Jace rocked back and forth, debating whether to make another pot of coffee. It was too soon to start breakfast preparations. Too bad none of the stores in town opened this early. He had the urge to go buy the biggest teddy bear he could find. He was antsy to meet his daughter, to introduce her to her cousins. It couldn’t be easy for a kid to only have one parent. Addie didn’t know it yet, but she now had a dozen new family members who would love and support her once they learned of her existence. He hoped he could convince Layla to start telling people soon. It was everything he could do not to email his brothers links to Addie’s pictures online.

  He’d scrutinized the photos countless times throughout his sleepless night, trying to memorize and interpret his daughter’s expressions. What had Layla done to make her laugh so hard in the picture from last autumn? Or did Addie just like playing in the leaves? In one shot, her smile had been sleepy, a faraway look in her eyes. It led him to wonder about her bedtime routine. Was she one of those kids who fought sleep, begging for just one more story or glass of water? Or was she like his friend Grayson’s son who could fall asleep anytime and anywhere, including midsentence or facedown at the dinner table?

  Yesterday, questions like those would have strangled Jace with bitterness. He’d been so hung up on the unfairness of not knowing his own child that he’d overlooked the sheer joy of getting to know her. He had so much to look forward to, so much to share with her. Did she already know how to swim? Had she ever been on a horse? He hadn’t felt this much anticipation since his short-lived days in the rodeo ring.

  He glanced at the digital clock above the stove, willing time to go faster.

  As far back as he could remember, he’d been the odd one out in his overachieving family. He’d struggled to figure out who he was and what he wanted. Both of his brothers had pretty much selected their careers by kindergarten, but Jace had bounced between college majors before eventually dropping out. He’d tried his hand at a variety of jobs, and he’d dated scores of women. For perhaps the first time, he had a clear vision of what his life could be—and he wanted that life to start as soon as possible.

  Chapter 8

  Layla awoke with her daughter’s toes jabbing her in the rib cage—not that she’d really been in a state deep enough to count as sleep, anyway.

  When she’d returned from Jace’s last night, Addie had been asleep. But around one in the morning, she’d climbed into Layla’s bed, saying she’d had bad dreams. Layla had wrapped her arms around her daughter and contentedly breathed in the lavender scent of her no-tears shampoo. It had been a peaceful balm to her frazzled emotions...for about three minutes. Addie didn’t just kick in her sleep, she performed Rockettes-caliber extravaganzas. Somehow, in the middle of the night, she’d ended up completely perpendicular to her mother, feet embedded in Layla’s side.

  After yesterday’s crying jag, cracking her noggin on Jace’s porch and a night of being kickboxed by her kid, Layla was in serious need of ibuprofen. Rubbing her bleary eyes, she tried to crawl out of the bed without disturbing her daughter more than necessary. As it was, she hadn’t decided how to handle going to Jace’s for breakfast. She might make it there and back before Addie woke. But there was an equal or greater chance that Addie would wake and be dismayed that Layla had left without saying goodbye or giving her an explanation. What kind of explanation? She didn’t want to lie to her kid, but she couldn’t tell her the truth, either. Not yet, and certainly not before coffee.

  Mercifully, the aroma of fresh-brewed coffee was already beckoning from the kitchen. Bless you, Gena. Layla shambled down the hallway like a caffeine-seeking zombie in slippers and a robe.

  Gena stood in front of the refrigerator in yellow-and-red-plaid pajamas, her hair in a curly ponytail, looking cuter than anyone had a right to before 8 o’clock.

  “Isn’t Sunday your day off?” Layla asked. “I figured you would sleep in.”

  “If only.” Gena pulled out the low-fat creamer and shut the fridge door. “My internal clock is a heartless bitch. She doesn’t give me days off. I assume you would like a mug of coffee, too?”

  “Unless you have an IV handy. If not, I’ll make do with a mug.”

  Gena chuckled. “You were awfully quiet when you snuck in last night. I didn’t even realize you were back until after you’d gone to bed. How did it go?”

  Well, Jace has become an even better kisser, which I didn’t know was possible. But that probably wasn’t what her cousin meant. “Better than I expected, but our conversation wasn’t very in-depth. He needed more time. I’m actually headed over there for breakfast.”

  “That sounds promising. Amicable, cooperative.”

  Tempting. Layla still questioned the wisdom of being alone with him, but it would certainly be easier to keep a secret if they weren’t discussing the situation within earshot of nosy neighbors. “I wish you could come with me. For moral support.”

  “Uh, pass. That would be unprecedented levels of awkward. Besides, you need me to stay with Addie.”

  Layla sipped her coffee, willing the caffeine to move faster on its trip to her brain cells. “I can’t decide whether to let her sleep or wake her up to say goodbye. She doesn’t do well with surprises.” So how on earth will she handle news of her father? Layla’s head throbbed even more as she thought about her daughter’s nervous reactions to the unexpected, everything from upset stomachs to elaborate rituals.

  “What if we split the difference?” Gena suggested. “Write her a quick note letting her know when you’ll be back. I’ll keep an eye on her and read the note with her as soon as she wakes up, so she doesn’t have time to feel abandoned. If you think you’re gonna be awhile, text me. Maybe I can take her and Skyler to a matinee. Think that might work?”

  “Addie adores you, so as long as she wakes up in a positive frame of mind, it should. She was having nightmares last night. Poor kid’s probably feeding off my stress,” Layla said.

  “Don’t beat yourself up about it. You’ll only stress yourself out more. Think mellow thoughts.”

  Easier said than done, with another visit to Jace’s looming. What if he changed his mind about not telling anyone yet? What if he tried to kiss her again? What if, as someone who’d been raised by very involved parents, he pushed for some kind of custody arrangement where Addie stayed with him periodically? That would be a huge disruption to her routine. If Layla pointed that out to him, would he fight her on it?

  By the time she parked her car in front of Jace’s house, all the what-ifs were swirling in her aching head like one of the cyclones her daughter found so enthralling.

  Layla pulled the keys from the ignition and studied the small house through the windshield, getting a better look at it than she had in the dark. Jace was renting his late grandmother’s place from his parents, and the 1940s bungalow looked much the same as it had on the occasions Layla had visited as a child. Someone had repainted the exterior and replaced the old porch railings, but the rustic charm was the same. It suddenly struck her that Jace’s grandmother was Addie’s great-grandma; this house was part of her daughter’s heritage. Her stomach churned at the thought of how disappointed the Trents were going to be in her.

  She trudged up the porch steps, regretting the coffee she’d chugged. The caffeine was doing nothing to settle her stomach. Jace flung the door ope
n so quickly that she jerked back, startled. Her pulse beat triple time. Definitely no more caffeine.

  “You’re here!” His smile was dazzling in the morning sunlight. Before she could answer, he had a hand at her waist and was propelling her inside. “Can I get you some coffee?”

  “Um, I’ll just have water.” And antacids, if she could find any in her purse. She set the bag on an antique end table. The front room was dominated by a leather sofa set; the muted greens and rich browns of the area rug on the hardwood were masculine but welcoming. “This place looks a lot different. Nice, but different.”

  The corner of his mouth kicked up in a grin. “Fewer crocheted doilies and ceramic armadillos, right? Unlike Nana, I don’t collect breakable knickknacks, and my furniture is pretty sturdy. It’s kid-friendly—no confusing decorative soaps you aren’t allowed to use or glass vases to break. If Cole’s daughter Mandy hasn’t destroyed anything by playing soccer in the house, I doubt Addie could cause any damage. Does she play sports?”

  “She—”

  “I wondered about horses, too, if she’s been riding yet. Cole, Will and I had all been on horseback before we were school-age. Does she like animals?”

  “Yes. To the animals. No to the horseback riding. And no to the sports.” There’d been a short-lived attempt at soccer, but Addie had hated the way the required shin guards felt against her legs. Plus, she got far too upset if she didn’t score a goal during a game, feeling she’d let her team down. Layla had reminded her that, while winning was nice, it was important to have fun, only to realize her daughter wasn’t actually having any. “I was considering putting her in swim lessons this summer. She loves the water.”

  He looked delighted. “Cupid’s Bow has an amazing aquatic complex. People come from all over neighboring counties to use it.”

  “I know, but...” His casual talk of Addie spending time in town, at his house, was unnerving.