Wrangling His Pregnant Cowgirl: Beckett Brothers Book Three

by North, Leslie

  He reached down and peeled her hands off the truck panel, lifting them over her head. It stretched out her torso, making her completely open to his body that now touched her from sternum to painfully aroused core.

  “Stella,” he whispered, moving his lips along her jaw to her earlobe. He nipped at it. She squirmed beneath him.

  “More,” she squeaked, drawing a growl from him. She needed relief in a way she’d never experienced before, and she didn’t even realize her left leg had hiked itself around his narrow, denim-clad hips. She couldn’t stop herself from grinding against him as he held both of her wrists in one of his big hands, then reached the other down and cupped her ass, pressing his erection into her rhythmically.

  Stella moaned in frustration. “Please,” she growled, feeling as though she might lose her mind if she didn’t get an orgasm in the next sixty seconds. Scout tore his lips away from her neck, although he kept the lower parts of their bodies pressed tightly together. His expression was two parts amusement and one part concern.

  “So it must be true,” he said, his lips twitching into an almost smile.

  “What?” she rubbed her core against him as her voice cracked. Why was he talking at a moment like this?

  “Those pregnancy hormones make you…well…” His eyebrow raised.

  She squeezed her eyes together, trying not to scream in sexual frustration. “Less talk, more action,” she demanded. He buried his face in her shoulder and chuckled.

  “Scout, I’m serious, you have to do…something. I’m going to die.” And she really did feel like she might expire right there in the middle of that blasted dry field.

  “Okay, sweetheart, okay.” He pulled her away from the truck door and opened it. “Sit,” he commanded. She did, her legs hanging off the side of the seat in the open doorway. Within a minute, he had divested her of tennis shoes, jeans, and panties.

  He’d also unbuttoned his own jeans. “You sure?” he asked as he ran his hand through her tangled hair.

  “Oh my God, Scout,” she pleaded, laughing like a crazy person. “Get on with it.”

  Standing in the open doorway of the truck, he pressed her gently back against the warm leather seat with one hand. She wrapped her legs around his flanks and moaned as he entered her. He’d barely begun to move when the orgasm hit her, no slow-rolling wave but an electric shock, like lightning striking with a sharp explosion, followed by streaks of electricity that shot out from her center, all the way to her feet and hands.

  She cried out, her back arched, head thrown back, mouth opened in what felt like never-ending pleasure. She heard Scout curse and then felt his warmth pulsing into her as he shuddered, hunched over her until he finally collapsed, head on her chest, his arms shaking from his efforts.

  Her body stilled along with his, and a feeling of complete peace and utter contentment rolled over her like sunshine over a field of flowers.

  “I think I’m broken,” he muttered from where his face was buried in her cleavage.

  She noticed her nipples were still ready to go, even if the rest of her needed a few minutes.

  No one seemed inclined to move, and she found herself running her fingers through his flaxen hair, her mind drifting between the way he looked when he announced he was going to kiss her, and her plans for irrigating the field. For reasons she couldn’t fathom, it all seemed to mesh somehow.

  When he finally stood and gently pulled away, she felt the loss of him deep inside, in places she couldn’t name and didn’t understand.

  He righted his clothing, then reached a hand in to help her sit.

  “Are you okay?” he asked gently.

  “So much better,” she answered with a small sigh of contentment.

  He pulled her clothes off the floor of the truck and helped her step into everything. As she laced her tennis shoes back up, he cleared his throat, gazing at the empty land rather than her.

  “I, uh, probably shouldn’t have done that.”

  “Bite your tongue,” she told him, worried he was now going to mess with her high. It was the best she’d felt in weeks—hell, months. She really wanted it to last.

  He finally looked back at her, and she saw the discomfort and confusion in his eyes. “It wasn’t…I mean, I didn’t…” His words stopped as if he’d simply run out and couldn’t produce any others.

  Stella slid out of the truck seat and looked up at him. “You’re worried I’ll make it into more than it was.”

  He watched her warily.

  “Look, we wouldn’t be in this particular…situation…if we weren’t attracted to one another, right?”

  He nodded emphatically, and she couldn’t help but grin. “So maybe there’s nothing wrong with expressing that once in a while. We have almost six months here together, and it can’t hurt our future as co-parents to get to know one another a little better. And maybe sometimes sex is part of that.”

  Scout blinked at her. “You’re serious?”

  She shrugged. She hadn’t planned it, or considered it before that moment, but it made sense. They did need to get to know one another better, and the sex was great. “Why not?”

  “It was really good, wasn’t it?” he asked, a grin unrolling across his face.

  “They do not publicize those pregnancy hormones,” she answered with an equally wide grin.

  “Probably so there’s not a population explosion.”

  She laughed, and he wrapped an arm around her neck. “You’re all right, Red,” he told her, giving her a kiss on the temple.

  “So are you,” she replied. So are you.

  11

  “Yeah, I can lend you a couple guys,” Bran said as he sat at his kitchen table, his son Cam on his lap, teaching the little boy how to tie his shoes. “Then wrap that piece around,” he said as Cam struggled and squirmed.

  Scout looked on with a smile. “Thanks. Stella thinks they’ll be done before the end of the week.”

  Bran glanced up at him. “Stella? She managing the place now, too?”

  Scout cleared his throat, remembering how she’d managed him the other day in the truck. He was all in favor of her management style. “Did you know she has a degree in agronomy?”

  “Really? I thought she worked with nonprofits and food security or something.”

  “Daddy!” Cam growled in frustration.

  “Sorry, cowboy. Make that loop like we did the last time, then wrap the other piece around.”

  Scout walked to the kitchen counter and pulled out a barstool, leaning his tired ass on it.

  “She travels to these villages that don’t have a secure food supply and helps them set up irrigation and crops so they can grow their own.”

  Bran looked duly impressed. Scout beamed with pride. His baby was going to be smart as hell, like its mama.

  “Well, I guess she’s qualified for some kind of farming, then. Does she know anything about cows?”

  Scout scoffed. “Not a thing, but we have an entire field needing irrigation that doesn’t cost a small fortune, and she knows how to accomplish that.”

  Cam pulled his left shoe off and threw it across the room, folding his arms and scowling like a small demon.

  Bran looked apologetically over Cam’s head as Scout struggled not to smile.

  “You’ll get it, cowboy,” Bran said, ruffling Cam’s hair.

  “I’m the only one in my whole class who can’t tie his own shoes!” Cam exclaimed, tears beginning to overflow his eyes.

  “Buddy,” Scout said, “That’s only because you haven’t had Uncle Scout teach you how to do it.” He heard Bran snort in derision but ignored him. He walked over to the coat rack by the back door where, just like their father always had, Bran kept two or three neckties hanging on hooks. When it was time for a chamber of commerce meeting or date night with Ava, Bran would simply take one of the plain dark ties off the hook, wrap it under the collar of whatever denim button-up he had on, make a half-assed knot, and call it good.

  Grabbing a tie, Scout c
ame back and knelt in front of Cam. “Now, we’re gonna’ pretend this is your shoelace.” Cam looked skeptical. “Just go with it a sec, buddy.” Cam nodded.

  Scout began to tie the long piece of silk, explaining each step as he went. Then he held the tie while he let Cam go through the same steps, one by one. Within two minutes, Cam had tied the giant “shoelace” perfectly.

  “Dad! Look!” Cam cried, turning to Bran who sat silently behind him. “I did it!”

  Bran smiled warmly. “You did. It’s perfect.” He raised an eyebrow at Scout. “I guess Uncle Scout really does have special skills.”

  “You take that and practice on it the rest of today,” Scout said, “and I bet by tomorrow you’re able to do your shoelaces. They’re the exact same thing, just smaller.”

  “Thank you, Uncle Scout,” Cam said, throwing his arms around Scout, then running off to find the dog to tie a bow around the old Aussie’s neck.

  Bran and Scout both stood, and Bran slapped Scout on the shoulder. “You might make a half-decent parent one day,” he said.

  Scout tried to ignore the flush of heat that washed over his cheeks. “Yeah, maybe.”

  “Maybe you’d make an okay husband, too?”

  Scout’s brows slammed down in a scowl. “Will you quit harping on that?”

  “What’s so crazy about thinking you might marry the mother of your child?” The older brother held up a hand as Scout began to protest. “I know it’s not required these days, but it seems like you care a lot about her. Ava said she’s a real sweetheart. And she doesn’t have anyone else to care about her and that baby—your baby. Don’t you want to give that kid the best start?”

  Scout rounded on him. “Of course I do. But this wasn’t planned. I didn’t ask to become a father, and I sure as hell didn’t ask to become someone’s husband.”

  “Didn’t you figure you’d be one someday?” Bran’s voice was quiet, and it reminded Scout so much of their father’s that for a minute, all he could do was blink at his older brother.

  When he replied, his own voice was rough with emotion. “Yeah. I guess I thought I would be someday. Far off in a future that seemed like it belonged to someone else.” He paused, letting out a long breath of air. “I’ve been working for six years to buy this farm. That’s all I’ve thought about. The whole wife and kids and family deal…it just hasn’t been on my radar.”

  Bran leaned back against the kitchen counter and crossed his arms, his expression serious. “Well, it’s here now, whether your radar saw it coming or not. And I gotta’ tell you, baby brother, that’s pretty much how it happens for all of us. It’s not like planning to buy a farm or get a promotion. You don’t set a goal of falling in love—it just happens. One day, this person walks into your world, and you slowly start to realize that not only do you really want to sleep with them, you also respect them, and admire them, and feel better about yourself every time you’re with them.”

  Scout stared at the floor, remembering the way Stella’s eyes had lit up when she took the first bite of that stupid breakfast sandwich he’d made for her. He’d felt more pride in that moment than he had when one of his cows had won the state breed championship.

  “No one plans these things,” Bran repeated. “All I’m saying is, maybe be open to the possibility that Stella could be right for you, and you for her, and that together, you’ll make better parents than you will apart.”

  Scout was beyond words now. He hadn’t been parented since he was a college kid and their father had passed away. He resented it and craved it in equal measure, and he wasn’t sure he could look Bran in the eye when Bran was doing such an amazing impression of their dad.

  “Okay,” he managed to growl. “I’ll think about it.”

  Bran smiled sympathetically and patted him on the shoulder again. Scout made for the back door and didn’t slow down until his truck was a mile down the road and his heart was back in his chest.

  * * *

  Stella looped a rubber band through the buttonhole of her favorite pair of jeans, then stretched the closed end over the jean button. Okay, she thought, looking down at the two sides of the waistband connect by a rubber band that looked like it was threatening to break. “We got this,” she said to her waist. “Just a little inhale and a quick zip, and it’ll all be fine.” She took a deep breath, sucked in what she could, and tugged on the zipper. It moved an inch, then stopped as the jeans resisted even one more millimeter of give.

  “Great,” she muttered. “How am I supposed to go out with my fly unzipped?”

  The doorbell rang, and she jumped in surprise. Grabbing her robe, she tossed it on over the uncooperative jeans and went to answer the door.

  “Did you forget our plans?” Ava asked as she took in Stella’s outfit.

  “No,” Stella answered, gesturing Ava and Kit into the house. “But I’m not sure I can leave the house. I can’t get my jeans zipped, and all my yoga pants are in the laundry.”

  Ava laughed, and Kit patted Stella on the arm. “Come on,” Ava directed, heading toward the bedroom. “All you need is a flowy top, and you’ll be fine.”

  Fifteen minutes later, the three women walked into Nadine’s Diner. Stella was in the same jeans, but she’d topped them with a peasant blouse she’d been given by one of the native tribes she’d worked with in Guatemala. The embroidered cotton was loose and long. Perfect.

  “It’s a good thing we’re looking at maternity clothes after lunch,” Kit said as they all sat down at a table in the front window. “You’re busting out now.”

  “I’ve popped like corn in hot oil these last few days,” Stella agreed.

  “That’s how it happens,” Ava consoled as she slid the menu aside. Nadine’s had been serving the same food forever. Menus were a formality for most diners here. “There are these weeks where suddenly it’s like baby grew overnight, then other weeks where nothing much seems to be going on.”

  “Well, howdy. If it ain’t all the Beckett girls,” the diner’s owner, Nadine, said as she sashayed up to the table, a pitcher of iced tea in hand. Her ruby red lips curved up in a big smile, and her Dolly Parton platinum blonde bouffant bobbed on top of her head like it was waving “howdy” too.

  “Hi, Nadine,” Kit said with a smile. “Have you met Stella?”

  “I have,” Nadine said as she poured each woman a glass of iced tea. “I remember her when she was just a little button herself, and I was at her granddaddy’s funeral. I sure didn’t expect to see her come back to town and steal my favorite beau, though.”

  Stella’s gaze darted between Ava and Kit in panic. “Oh, no, I’m not…I mean, I’m just here for a few months because my grandpa’s will stipulated it.”

  Nadine gave a deep, chesty laugh. “Oh, aren’t you precious. It’s okay, hon, we all know about the baby. And we cannot wait to have another Beckett boy runnin’ around town.”

  “Oh.” Stella swallowed. “Well, actually he…she…probably won’t be here—”

  “Nadine,” Ava interrupted. “Do you still have any of those avocados you got on sale last week?”

  “I sure do, hon, you want some on your club sandwich?”

  “I want Stella to have some. You eat avocados, don’t you, Stella?”

  Stella smiled and nodded.

  “See?” Ava smiled. “Avocados are really healthy, and we have to keep that baby fed. Why don’t you get Stella a club sandwich with them, and I’ll just have mine like usual.”

  Kit followed up with her order, and Nadine swished away, calling out to the young cowboy who’d just walked in. “Why, Garrison Jones, you charmer you, get over here and give Nadine a big hug!”

  Stella’s gaze returned from Nadine to Kit who looked at her assessingly. Stella smiled uncomfortably.

  “Well, that’s our Nadine,” Ava said, taking a long, slow drink of her iced tea.

  “So it’s true, then,” Kit finally said, settling her napkin on her lap and tearing open a packet of sugar to pour in her tea.

 
Stella glanced between the two women. “What’s true?” she asked nervously.

  “That you’re planning to go back to work all over the world and take the baby with you?” Kit’s voice was casual, but Stella knew the question was loaded.

  She cleared her throat and reminded herself that she didn’t need anyone’s approval to live her life. And the baby was hers, not this town’s.

  “Well, I have a career. This baby wasn’t planned, so I don’t have the luxury of finding a different career. I’ll just have to work with what I’ve got.”

  “So, there’s not any other kind of work you could do in your field where you won’t have to travel all year long?” Ava asked quietly.

  Stella felt anger and something a lot like guilt crawl through her. She didn’t like it. “What if I don’t want to do anything else?” she asked belligerently. “What if I love my work and don’t think it’s fair someone would expect me to quit because I have a baby?”

  Kit and Ava looked at one another.

  “I didn’t mean—“Ava began.

  Stella held up a hand to stop her. “No, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to sound so angry.” She sighed, rubbing at her temple. “I do love my work. But I also haven’t thought about whether there’s another way to do it.” Then she looked at the two women with sympathy. “But even if I don’t have to travel, I live in New York. That’s where the international aid community is based. Gopher Springs doesn’t have any nonprofits dedicated to food security.”

  Kit nodded, her expression sad but understanding all the same. Stella could see that Ava wasn’t quite ready to give up, however.

  “You own a business now, though,” Ava pointed out. “One that includes a lovely house to raise a baby in. Maybe there are opportunities here you haven’t considered?”

  Stella felt something inside of her beginning to unravel. It was uncomfortable, and she wanted it to stop.

  “Ava,” Kit said, putting hand on her friend’s arm. “Stella has five more months to figure everything out, and you know we all find our own solutions.”