The Cowboy’s Mistake

by Jackson, Mary Sue

  It would be on them. Anything they saw would be on them.

  A sudden fear curled at the pit of her stomach for another reason entirely, and she reached for Trey’s shoulders. “Should—wait, should we be—”

  Trey’s eyes were on hers instantly. His face was inches from hers, but his hands stilled. “What is it?”

  “Should we be doing this?” God, her emotions were all over the place. She’d felt so good about the babies for a minute back at the diner. But then the reality had set in. Still, she wanted to look on the bright side.

  Yes, there were risks, but that didn’t mean anything was wrong yet. They were watching and waiting to prevent anything from going wrong. But now, stripped naked in front of Trey, her fears were also out in the open. And Trey was so big. In more ways than one. “I mean…what with the babies?”

  He looked at her seriously. “Dr. Rosario said it was fine to have sex.”

  “Did she?” Her mind whirled. Dr. Rosario had rattled off a quick list of dos and don’ts before they left the office, promising to talk more about it at the next appointment, but Charity had been staring at the ultrasound photos. Was sex really on that list? “Maybe we should call back and make sure.” She moved to hop off the counter, but Trey’s hands steadied her.

  “I am not stopping this for one moment to make that call,” Trey said firmly. “But I will…change tactics.”

  “What tactics? How are we going to—”

  “Relax.” He pressed a hot kiss to the side of her neck, and then he was tilting her backward so that she had to brace herself with her palms on the counter. Trey’s mouth burned hot trails down between her breasts, then further down. She didn’t know how he was pulling it off. Could he possibly be kneeling on the floor? No, that wasn’t—

  His mouth met the folds between her legs and Charity no longer cared. Trey licked the length of her in one long stroke, and it felt like he was licking a live wire at the center of her soul. Pleasure wound tightly in the center of her gut, folding in on itself over and over, tighter and tighter as he licked and sucked and pressed his tongue into the center of her. Charity curled the fingers of one hand into his hair. The arm that held her weight trembled, or maybe that was her entire body. He was holding her legs apart and they were shaking too, and then—and then—

  His mouth centered over her clit and the gentle pressure he applied there was enough to shatter her completely. The orgasm that swept over her was so powerful that she felt lost out in the middle of the universe, just a quaking mass of sharp, blinding pleasure.

  And then she slammed back into herself, breathing hard.

  Trey stood up, a satisfied grin on his face, and offered her a hand down from the counter. “Now you can call.”

  Seventeen

  It was never easy for people to change, but somehow Trey was pulling it off.

  Charity had spent three weeks focusing on her babies and launching her new business, and…it had gone surprisingly well. Trey had reined in his overprotective instincts. He’d let her try to lift the boxes of fabric Layla sent from New York by herself before stepping in to haul them into her little house. And, to her delight, he’d gone with her to volunteer at the 4H program. One day, they’d taken Kepler to see how he reacted to children. The horse took to them like a fish to water.

  Just like the way Charity was taking to her new career. Her house was currently full of projects for her new business.

  Charity tripped over a stack of fabric samples on her way into the tiny spare bedroom, which had been barely big enough to fit a full-size bed. She’d had to ask Trey to move the mattress and frame into her parents’ pole barn to make enough room for her work table and sewing machine, but the moment she’d brought the fabric in, the space had crowded in around her again. She might as well be working on the full-size bed for all the room she’d created. Eventually, the room would need to become a nursery, though it was really too small for two cribs. She’d either have to add on to the house or figure out some other solution. In the meantime, she needed to work.

  She sat down at the work table and pulled her latest project toward her. It was a vest she’d worn on the circuit, but she had spent the last few evenings reworking it to make the stitching and decorations more elaborate. She wanted a template to show other people what she was capable of. The custom designs would come later. Last night she’d looked up from her work and realized that she was hungry—only to find a sandwich on a little plate by her elbow. Trey had brought it without asking. Charity smiled just thinking about it.

  So, Trey hadn’t totally changed. He still worried over whether she was eating enough and getting enough rest, but his approach now was more her style. It was really the way he’d dealt with Austin that impressed her. The last time Austin had shown up at Trey’s while Charity was watching him take Kepler through his paces, Austin had tried to go back into his overprotective brother routine—but Trey had taken him aside and told her brother in no uncertain terms that he had to back off.

  At least, she thought that was the reason he’d been less obnoxious lately. It was either that or Austin was just too busy, now that he was out on the circuit. Either way, Charity considered it a win. It was easier to breathe now that her parents knew what was going on and Austin wasn’t constantly stalking the edges of her relationship.

  She pulled herself out of her thoughts and checked the clock. It was another half hour before she left to meet Trey out at the paddock. Kepler had been doing incredibly well with Trey. By the time she was ready to go back on the circuit Kepler would be the perfect horse for her. They’d make a great team—Charity was certain of it.

  She wrapped up the last few stitches on the vest and set it aside. The only thing left to do was check the incoming orders on her website.

  Layla had finished setting the site up from New York, and frankly it was the most beautiful website Charity had ever seen. Her best friend had told her how to take photos of her pieces, making her re-do them more times than Charity thought was really necessary. But when she’d seen the resulting website, she realized that, as usual, Layla was right.

  She’d sold a few of her pieces since the website went live, and Charity’s fingertips hummed with excitement as she pulled her laptop into her lap and clicked her way into the backend of the website. Layla was in charge of that, too, despite all the time she spent at her job. She’d insisted on it, actually. There’s no way you need to bother with inventory management at a time like this, she’d said in one of their recent phone calls. So, Layla was the one who kept that part of the site running, but Charity could check the orders. It would all get better, she told herself, when she had more time to visit the competitions on the circuit. But in the meantime, she could keep the website updated with pictures.

  Drumroll, please…

  The website had a big green box that displayed the number of orders that had come in that day, and in the center of the box was a big, fat…

  Zero.

  No new orders.

  Well, fine.

  Charity stuck out her tongue at her monitor. There were only a few minutes left before she had to meet Trey, so she opened up the email program that connected in to her website. It was specifically for clients and other business-related things, which so far mostly consisted of placing orders for some new fabrics and accessories.

  She skimmed past a few order confirmations before she saw it.

  “Special order request,” the subject line read.

  Special order request? Charity clicked into the email and forced herself to read it slowly, so she didn’t misinterpret a single word.

  Then she read it again.

  “We would like to place a bulk order of your custom pieces…”

  Charity jumped up from her chair and cheered, then whooped again. This couldn’t be happening, right? But it was. Western Wear International, a company that outfitted lots of riders on the circuit and had pop-up storefronts at practically every event Charity had ever been to, wanted to stock her
pieces. A lot of her pieces. There was no bulk order functionality on her website, which was why they’d emailed her directly.

  She ran for the door. Trey had to hear about this, and she had to tell him in person. She couldn’t wait to see his face light up at the news. Plus…she skidded to a stop halfway to her truck. Charity couldn’t call him because she’d left her purse, and her phone, inside. Along with the keys to her truck.

  Charity sprinted back inside, grabbed all her stuff from the hook by the door, and went back out.

  This was the best day ever.

  * * *

  “I’m so proud of you,” Trey said as they came through the door to his place. “You’re really taking off.”

  “I hope so,” Charity said. They’d been circling this conversation for two hours.

  The moment she’d told Trey the news, he insisted on taking her out for an early celebratory dinner. He sent her back to her house to shower and change into “something nice,” and then picked her up forty-five minutes later. By the time they actually arrived at the steakhouse downtown it wasn’t early anymore, but Charity didn’t care. Trey wanted to celebrate with her, and celebrate they did. Charity had never had such a good steak in her life, and that was probably because she’d never ordered the filet mignon. But Trey ordered it for them both. The meat had come perfectly medium-well, drenched in a peppercorn sauce that Charity might have fallen slightly in love with.

  She was still buzzing with satisfaction when they went back to his place to relax afterward.

  “You’re not stressed over the orders on your website, are you?” They’d been talking about it on the drive home.

  “No,” she said. “I know it’ll be amazing.”

  “You’re amazing,” Trey said, shutting the door behind them and turning toward Charity.

  “You know, you can’t say that so much or the effect will wear off.”

  He laughed, slipping his hands around her waist and pulling her close. “What about this effect?”

  “Mmm. I don’t know,” Charity teased. “You’re only half-hugging me right now. It’s not even really a hug, unless you count this as—”

  He silenced her with a kiss that was so deep and intimate that Charity lost herself in it until she had to come up for air.

  “Okay,” she gasped. “Now, I know.”

  “I know something, too.”

  Charity laughed. “Very sage, Trey.”

  “I do,” he said, his expression deadly serious. “I know we’re not done celebrating.”

  “We’re not?” The dinner had been expensive, and it had been delicious. They hadn’t had any wine, Charity for obvious reasons and Trey in solidarity, but suddenly she felt a little drunk on the heat between them.

  “Not by far.”

  Trey lifted Charity off her feet and she let him carry her to the bedroom. She had called Dr. Rosario about sex after all, and while the doctor had warned them not to try anything too extreme—Charity had laughed at that—she’d okayed the activity. So, Charity let herself sink into Trey’s touch as he unzipped her dress and stripped off each article of her clothing until every inch of her was exposed to the cool air of his bedroom. When he’d taken off his own clothes, they fell into his bed together.

  Trey stroked his fingers down the side of her face, his eyes alight even in the moonlit ambiance of the room. “I’m so proud of you,” he said again, his voice husky.

  “Prove it,” Charity said.

  And oh, he did.

  Trey started with kisses, planting light, worshipful brushes of his lips against her shoulders, her collarbone, her breasts. He teased at her nipples with his tongue, swirling the tip around each one until it stood out in the air. Then he went lower. Her ribs. The soft dip of her belly…and lower.

  It had been hot, the way he’d devoured her in her kitchen, but Charity had to admit there was something truly perfect about being in Trey’s bed as he licked and teased and tortured her to a delicious orgasm before he positioned himself between her legs.

  “Not so fast,” Charity said, her mind still clouded with pleasure.

  “You’re a picky one, aren’t you?” Trey pushed himself off the bed and a moment later she heard water running. He returned to the bed with freshly brushed teeth. It was a pregnancy quirk they’d discovered the previous week.

  Back between her legs, Trey looked into Charity’s eyes as she stretched, then settled her arms back over his shoulders. “Everything okay today?”

  “Everything’s more than okay,” she told him. “That dinner…”

  “If you’re still thinking about dinner, I haven’t done my job.”

  Charity laughed underneath him, then lifted her face to his and kissed his cheek. All of this felt warm and intimate and right in a way that it hadn’t before…not really. This wasn’t makeup sex, or forbidden sex, but two people who were on the same page meeting at the center of happiness. “Then don’t be lazy.” She shifted her hips up toward him and felt his thickness press against her opening.

  She could tell Trey was being careful as he worked his way inside of her until her legs were wrapped firmly around him and he was buried to the hilt. Charity saw the concentration on his face as he pulled back.

  It was too much to handle.

  Pure need spiked through her, and she pulled him back down. “Don’t…don’t hold back…”

  He made a strangled noise, as if all he wanted was to have her on his own terms, and she egged him on, driving her hips into his. It was like a switch had been flipped. The two of them had been so worried about being gentle, about being careful, but now that he was inside of her all that worry had vanished. It must have been the same for Trey because he picked up the pace, driving into her over and over again.

  God, it felt so good. Charity was swept away by the tide of him, by the strength of him. It was like trying to stay on a bucking bronco, only she was pinned on the bed by over six feet of pure manly power. She looped her hands behind his neck and pulled him down for a hard kiss, biting at his lip. Pleasure arced through her like a lightning bolt, and then Trey was pulling her and turning her so that she was on her knees, gripping his headboard.

  He moved behind her so quickly that she hardly had time to notice his absence, pushing back inside with one hard stroke. It almost felt obscene, to have sex like this, her hips tilted back, begging him for more. He took those hips in his hands and used them to hold her still until he reached his own climax. But even as he chased his own pleasure he was, as always, a gentleman. He curved his hand around to her clit and gave her another of her own.

  Then he swept her back off the bed in his arms, breathing hard.

  “Tell me you’re taking me to the shower,” Charity said with a laugh.

  “Oh, yes,” Trey said. “And you look like you need a hand.”

  * * *

  She slept deeply in Trey’s bed that night, waking up long after the sun rose. Charity stretched and yawned, slowly becoming aware that Trey was already awake.

  Opening one eye, she saw him propped on one elbow, watching her.

  “Don’t be creepy,” she said, turning over onto her side.

  “Your wish is my command.” Trey fell back on the pillows, his hands behind his head. Charity rolled back and kissed him on the cheek.

  “I have to get going.” She hopped off the bed and started searching for her clothes. “Gotta figure out work. Speaking of work, shouldn’t you already be at the paddock?"

  “What’s there to figure out? Didn’t they already place the order?” Trey followed her out of the bed and started to dress. “And—” He smiled at her. “I couldn’t leave you in the bed. I won’t slip up again.”

  “I have to decide what to do about space.” She tugged her shirt over her head. “I don’t think my workspace is big enough for all the materials I’ll need for the order, plus storing the pieces afterward. So, I’ll either have to order it in batches, or—”

  “Or you can just stay here.”

  Charity l
ooked at him skeptically.

  Trey shrugged. “I’ve got more room. And a workroom that nobody’s using. Come see.” He led her down to the first floor and through the living room. Between there and the garage, Trey stopped at a doorway in the hall and opened it to reveal a workroom at least three times the size of Charity’s spare bedroom. There were some odds and ends on the shelving, but other than that it was empty. “It’ll be convenient for everybody. You can come visit Kepler as often as you want, and you’ll have the room you need.”

  Charity considered this for a long moment. “All right.”

  “And you can even have the guest room on the other side of the hall,” Trey said gallantly.

  But Charity wasn’t sure if she was happy or disappointed about that.

  Eighteen

  Charity had always been a hard worker. Nobody from the Miller family was a slouch, and because Trey spent so much time with them growing up, he knew it ran in their blood. Millers could take it easy about as well as he could stop training horses, which was to say, they couldn’t.

  Still, it surprised him how hard Charity pushed herself to fill the bulk order once she moved in. She brought one rolling suitcase of clothes for herself and then they went back and loaded his truck with her sewing machine and other supplies.

  Then the fabric started arriving.

  It was more than he’d expected, and maybe more than Charity herself had expected, but she rolled up her sleeves and got to work.

  And worked, and worked, and worked.

  She started to keep her visits to the paddock to a minimum, spending only about a half an hour a day with Kepler. She wanted him to be used to her presence when he was doing the hard work of riding and racing, so she made sure to be at the paddock with him for at least a little time each day. Every evening she fretted that the horse might forget her, but that was the farthest thing from Trey’s mind. His more pressing concern was the dark circles under her eyes. Charity woke up as early as Trey did, headed directly into her workshop, and worked until it was time for lunch and a visit to the paddock. Then she was at it again until dinner, and most evenings he had to convince her to relax with him for half an hour before she fell asleep.