by Beau Brown
I cleared my throat, trying to reclaim my professionalism. “The agency didn’t really give me many details. I know you’re a widower and that Avery is five. But other than that I’m kind of in the dark.”
His mouth hardened. “What else do you need to know?”
“Well, I’m dealing on a personal level with Avery. I should probably know how his mother died.”
“Father.”
“Father. Sorry.” I grimaced. “It’s helpful to know details in case Avery has any questions or issues that I should deal with. You know… about losing his father.”
“Avery never knew his other father. Felix died in childbirth.”
“Oh, God. I’m sorry.”
His expression became even chillier. “Pity isn’t needed.”
“I was expressing sympathy, not pity.”
“I don’t see the difference. Neither one helps or changes anything. My mate is still gone. I’m stuck with a kid I don’t have time for and my ranch is slowly falling down around my ears.”
I winced at his harsh tone. It was clear Jake wasn’t going to be an easy man to deal with. I’d worked in a lot of different homes over the past five years, but he was the most distant father I’d ever met. Downstairs, I’d felt no real warmth from him toward his son. Now that I knew the circumstances of Avery’s birth, that apathy toward his child made more sense.
“I’m sure it hasn’t been easy. But none of this is Avery’s fault.”
“How do you figure?”
Shock went through me. “I’m sorry?”
He pinned me with his emotionless gaze. “If Avery had never been born, Felix would still be alive.”
I took a step back, rocked by his coldness. “Avery didn’t ask to be born.”
“I never wanted a kid,” he growled, looking frustrated. “Felix was the one who pushed for it.”
“Either way it isn’t Avery’s fault.” I tried to sound calm. Maybe he was just venting, letting off steam. All men had a breaking point and it couldn’t have been easy these last five years trying to raise Avery by himself. Sometimes people under tremendous stress said horrible, hateful things they didn’t really mean. I hoped that was what was going on here.
He raked a hand through his hair and some of the anger seemed to drain from his features. “Look, regardless of how I probably sound, I’m not heartless. The kid’s okay.” He shook his head. “But I don’t know the first thing about raising children. I’ve got my hands full with this ranch.”
“You must be doing something right. Avery seems like a great kid.”
He chuffed. “You can thank the babysitters for that one.” He exhaled roughly. “But it’s not easy keeping anyone out here long term. No one stays over a couple of months.”
Since my own first impression of his ranch had made me want to change my mind and flee, I didn’t bother arguing. “If you really didn’t want children, why did you let Felix pressure you into having a baby?”
He scowled. “Like I had a choice?”
“There’s always a choice.” I lifted my chin. “I don’t plan on having kids.”
He looked like I’d told him I was from Mars. “What? You’re an omega. You have to have babies.”
“No I don’t.”
“Who’ll take care of you?”
I crossed my arms, irritation prickling my neck. I’d heard that same question a million times over the years. “I can take care of myself.”
“Are you barren?” he asked suspiciously.
“No!” At least I didn’t think so.
He still watched me as if I had two heads. “What kind of omega doesn’t want kids?”
“What kind of alpha doesn’t want babies?”
His face flushed and clamped his mouth shut. “This conversation is going nowhere.”
“Agreed.” I was overheated and embarrassed. I’d planned on a nice, businesslike conversation with my new employer, and instead we’d basically bickered like children the last five minutes.
He shifted uneasily. “I need to get back to work.”
“Of course.” I moved into the hall. “What time should I have dinner ready?”
“We usually knock off around six.” He led the way to the stairs.
“Do I need to cook for all the ranch hands too?” I wasn’t used to cooking for large groups of people, but if I had to, I would push my way through.
“No. Just me and Avery. The others have omegas to go home to.” His voice was emotionless.
Avery was still where we’d left him. His plate was empty, and he had his hands crossed on the table. “I stayed in my spot like you like, Papa.”
A muscle worked in Jake’s cheek. “Good boy.” Without another word he left, banging the screen behind him.
I watched him walk away, his shoulders stiff and his head held high. During our short time together, he’d been such a mixture of frustration and regret I couldn’t quite put my finger on what kind of man he really was.
I sighed and faced Avery. “Would you like to help me wash the lunch dishes?”
His eyes widened. “Papa doesn’t like me to help because I break stuff.”
I smiled. “How about you try to be extra careful?”
“I’ll try.” He bit his lower lip and crawled down from his chair. Then he picked up his plate and carried it over to me as if it was the most fragile thing in the world.
I took the plate and rinsed it in the sink. “Go ahead and bring the other dishes to me too.”
“Oh, boy,” he hissed, sounding worried.
“You can do this.”
“I just don’t want Papa mad at me.” His little voice wobbled as he grabbed a glass from the table.
“Everybody breaks stuff and goofs up when they’re learning new things.” I took the glass from him. “I used to break stuff all the time, but now I don’t quite as much.”
He got the last few items from the table and he handed them to me. His eyes were dark and curious. “You broke things?”
“All the time.”
“Did your Papa get mad at you?”
I grimaced. “Yes. He’d take his belt off and whip me sometimes too.” I faced Avery. “Does your daddy do that kind of thing to you?” I wanted to get a feel for whether there was any abuse going on in this strange household.
Avery tilted his head and frowned. “He swatted my butt with a newspaper one time when I started to touch the fireplace.”
I smiled. “I see.”
He widened his eyes. “I don’t touch the fireplace anymore.”
“Good boy.” I cleared my throat. “Any other times he hit you?”
He shook his head. “No. Papa mostly just ignores me, or sometimes he yells.”
My heart ached for the little boy standing in front of me. “Why does he yell at you?”
“He didn’t yell at me. He yelled at Polly.”
“Was Polly the nanny before me?”
“Yes.” He giggled. “Her name was like a parrot.”
I smiled. “Why did your daddy yell at her?”
His eyes got big. “She was smoking.”
“Yucky.” I made a face.
He laughed again, but then his smile faded. “She set the couch on fire cuz she fell asleep.”
“What?” I scowled. “That’s awful. I’m glad you were okay.”
“Papa didn’t like that at all. He said that was the last… straw. He was already upset cuz she left me alone in the house one day.”
A chill went down my spine. “She left you alone?”
“Yep.” He stuck his hands in his little jean pockets. “Papa had to go to town. But I was good and I didn’t leave my room all day, just like she told me.”
“Good boy. I’m sorry she left you alone.”
He shrugged. “It’s okay. You’re here now.”
I closed the dishwasher and knelt down in front of him. “I won’t ever leave you alone like that. You’re a big boy, but you should still have an adult with you most of the time.”
H
e surprised me when he reached out and took my hand. “I don’t like to be alone.”
My heart squeezed. “That’s perfect because I don’t like to be alone either.” I stood. “How about we go for a walk and you can show me around the ranch.”
“Really?” His voice went up sharply. “I can go outside?”
“Of course. Why not? We need sunshine and fresh air.” I moved to the door, still holding his hand.
We walked down the steps and I gazed around the big yard. There were a couple of beat-up trucks with rusted paint and doors missing. Some broken furniture and cardboard boxes mangled from the weather were strewn about, busting at the seams from their long forgotten treasures.
At one time, the ranch had probably been an impressive spread. The bones were still good, but now it was more like a carcass that had been ravaged by vultures. I had a feeling its chaotic state represented Jake’s inner turmoil.
The summer heat brought out the pungent fragrance of the crape myrtle that grew wild around the yard. I headed slowly toward the barn as Avery pointed to the cows in the distance and the horses nearby. He was so excited to be outside, I wondered if no one ever let him out of the house.
As we neared the barn Jake came out of the building carrying two buckets of paint. He didn’t have his shirt on any longer, and his sinewy pecs and biceps gleamed with sweat. Against my will, my eyes were drawn to the thin line of dark, silky hairs that trailed down to his belt. His jeans hung low on his narrow hips, and they fit his muscled thighs perfectly.
I swallowed against the surprising punch of attraction that hit me. His musky scent mixed with sweat had my omega instincts responding whether I liked it or not. I averted my eyes, but not before he noticed me staring.
“Papa!” Avery jumped up and down. “Can I help paint?”
Dragging his irritable gaze from mine, Jake snapped, “No.”
I patted the little boy’s head, trying to comfort him from how harsh his father sounded. “You don’t have to bite his head off.”
“Why are you over here? We’re working,” Jake grumbled.
An alpha about my age strolled over, his gaze friendly. “You must be the new manny.” He seemed oblivious to Jake’s anger. It made me suspect perhaps Jake’s bark was worse than his bite.
I forced myself to smile, still irritated with Jake’s boorish treatment of his son. I held out my hand. “I’m Hunter.”
“Tex.” The guy winked as he gripped my fingers.
I shot Jake a glance. “I didn’t think it would hurt anything to let Avery out of the house for five minutes.”
Jake set the paint cans down and he moved closer to me. His earthy scent filled my nostrils and my pulse picked up again. “I hired you to keep my son out of my hair during work hours.” He spoke softly enough that I knew Avery couldn’t hear him.
“He’s not a vampire. He needs to get outside and be a kid.”
“It’s a big ranch. Maybe take him over by the lake where he can feed the ducks or something,” he said through gritted teeth.
“I didn’t know you had a lake.” My voice was clipped as I held his angry gaze.
He blinked at me. “Okay. True. You wouldn’t.”
His change in demeanor threw me.
“I’ll give you a tour,” Tex volunteered.
Jake’s expression tensed. “No. I can do it.”
“I don’t mind,” drawled Tex, running his gaze over my body. It didn’t offend me because alphas couldn’t help themselves from being alphas.
“I said I’d do it.” Jake’s voice was gruff.
Tex held his hands up. “Whatever you say, boss.”
Jake turned and walked into the barn. I stared after him confused. He seemed like he couldn’t stand me or Avery, but now he was volunteering to take us on a tour of the ranch? When he returned, he had his shirt on.
“Follow me,” he growled, brushing past me.
I gave Tex a puzzled glance, and he shrugged. I lifted Avery into my arms and strode after Jake, breathing hard from carrying the little boy. It was impossible to keep up with Jake and eventually I put Avery on the ground and gave up even trying. Instead I focused on Avery and I talked with him softly, pointing out the tangled zinnias and verbena along the path.
Jake was about twenty feet ahead of us and he stopped when he noticed we were dawdling. “Come on. Come on. I don’t have all day.”
I scowled. “This is supposed to be enjoyable for Avery. We’re not in the army.”
He gave a long, weary sigh. “I thought you were here to help me.”
“Yeah. I’m here to help you by taking care of Avery.” I glanced back the way we’d come. “Go back to work. I can find my way back.”
“You don’t know where the lake is.”
“I assume it’s along this path?” I gave a dry laugh. “I can find the lake now that I know it exists. Go back to your painting, and me and Avery will have a nice, relaxing stroll.”
“Papa, come to the lake with us.” Avery clapped his hands.
“I can’t.”
Avery’s mouth turned down in a pout.
Jake walked back toward us. “Are you sure you can find your way back?”
“Yes.”
He bit his lip. “The sun will be down in a couple of hours.”
“We won’t stay too long.”
“Fine.” He surprised me when he reached out and ruffled his son’s hair. He looked up and caught me watching him and he clenched his jaw. “Don’t make me come looking for you two.”
He strode away with his shoulders stiff and unyielding.
Coming in October 2017
COMES A COWBOY
The Omegas of Sweet Water, Texas (Book 3)
E.E. Wilde
Omega Nathan Swan has been widowed for two years when mysterious Alpha Wes Thompson shows up asking for a job—any job—on Robinsong Ranch. Naturally, Nathan’s a little uneasy about the wisdom of hiring such a handsome, virile lone wolf Alpha, but Wes is willing to work for little more than room and board, and Nathan’s not really in any position to say no.
But maybe he’ll wish he had said no, once he finds himself pregnant and alone—around about the time Wes’s dangerous past comes knocking…
This is a sweet and sexy, contemporary, non-shifter love story with mpreg and a HEA ending. Though part of the Omegas of Sweet Water, Texas, this standalone story does not need to be read as part of the series.
Chapter One
A white pickup stopped at the end of the long dusty road and a tall man in a black Stetson got out. He slung a large bag over his shoulder, raised his hand in farewell to the driver. The truck rolled forward, bumped back onto the main highway, and continued on its way. The man in the Stetson turned and started walking up the drive toward the ranch house.
Nathan, who had stopped weeding the vegetable patch when he heard the truck’s approaching engine, shaded his eyes with his hand and watched, frowning.
“Who the hell…” he murmured.
Was this guy lost? Where did he think he was headed? He couldn’t be making for the ranch, could he? But there was nowhere else to go. The next nearest spread was five miles away.
Nathan wiped his forehead. God, it was hot. He continued to watch the cowboy’s swift, easy pace up the brush lined road.
The cowboy was headed straight for Robinsong Ranch, all right. Striding beneath the blazing Texas sun with no hesitation at all, like he was headed home.
The man was a stranger. Nobody Nathan knew. He wasn’t from Sweet Water. Nathan was pretty sure he wasn’t from these parts at all. It went through his mind to go inside and get the shotgun from the gun case—just to be on the safe side—but something about the other’s confident stride—like he knew exactly where he was headed and had every right to be here—held him motionless.
The cowboy wore a white t-shirt and blue jeans—the same uniform Nathan wore—and of course, his Stetson. Well, you had to wear some kind of hat out here or that sun would fry your brains.
As the man got closer, Nathan could see he was probably in his late thirties—older than him; Nathan was only twenty-four. The cowboy was deeply tanned. His heavy beard was black. But his eyes were light. Blue? Green? Gray? Bright and alert. Nathan could tell even from a hundred yards away. He was studying Nathan, and that steady, unspeaking regard was confusing.
What did he want? Why didn’t he say something?
Nathan jammed his shovel in the soil and called, “Can I help you?” His voice sounded hard and flat in the dry, still air.
He had been wary even before he’d realized the cowboy was an alpha. Now, picking up that warm, clean scent, reminiscent of firelight and sunlit sand, his tension ratcheted up a few notches. Uncomfortable awareness pooled in the pit of his belly.
Not that he believed those old wives tales about roving, degenerate alphas seducing lonely, vulnerable omegas, but it was hard to argue with biology.
Anyway, for all he knew this cowboy was straight.
“Mr. Swan?” The voice was deep, but quiet. Not rough. Nathan felt it ripple down his spine like velvet brushed backwards.
“That’s right.”
“Sheriff McClintock sent me.”
The cowboy had stopped walking, maybe reading Nathan’s wary body language. He was still a few yards away, taking care not to crowd Nathan or make him feel cornered. It reassured Nathan. The cowboy was bigger, but Nathan was fast. He could get to the porch and through the door before this hombre was in grabbing distance—and the cowboy showed no inclination to grab.
Nathan said slowly, “Ross sent you? Why?”
“He said you were looking for a hired hand. Said you needed the barn roofed.”
No lie. The barn was just the beginning of all that needed doing around the place.
The cowboy said, “My name is Wes Thompson. I’ll work for room and board and fifty dollars a week.”
It was like the answer to a prayer. And probably too good to be true. Nathan’s doubt must have shown because Thompson smiled faintly. “You’ll want to check my references. Give McClintock a call. I’ll wait right here.”
