by Jen Talty
“Let him sleep, please,” she said as quietly as possible.
JB nodded, following her out of the bedroom, down the stairs, and into the kitchen.
She knew her way around the house. She’d spent more than a few nights under this roof. Though it was weird to be sleeping in what used to be JD’s bedroom.
“Did you sleep okay?” he asked.
“Well enough considering all that has happened.”
“Other than making a statement, we can have a lazy day.” He pulled down two mugs. Placing one under the coffee machine, he hit the button.
It gurgled to life, spitting and spewing the dark bitter brew. The rich aroma hit her nostrils like a tornado racing across a cornfield. And that made her stomach growl for one of JB’s famous egg sandwiches. For the month she’d spent with him, he would never tell his secret ingredient. She’d tried for the last five years to replicate it, but she couldn’t.
However, there was no way in hell she was going to ask him to make her breakfast. Nope. Not this morning. Not tomorrow. Not the next day. Not all summer long.
He handed her the mug.
She palmed it with both hands, lifting it to her nose. It smelled like hazelnut and cinnamon. She blew into the steaming liquid before taking a small sip. She wished she could have refrained from moaning, but it was impossible. “Why do you have to make the best coffee?”
“I don’t. It’s just one of those pod things with different flavors, and you know I like flavor.”
She raised her cup. “Yes, you do.” She let out a long breath. “So, what do we want to say today to the media?”
“I’ve been thinking about that,” he said. “And I spoke with JW and Georgia Moon this morning.”
“Of course you did,” she mumbled.
JW was the oldest and pretty much the patriarch of the family. He was the glue that held the Whiskey siblings together, and JB being the baby of the family, he had a tendency to idolize the eldest. Back in the day, JB pretty much did whatever his older brother thought was best. Of course, that was five years ago and JB had been young. Very young. And she knew a lot had changed. Hell, JB had already shown he was different.
She just wasn’t sure if the change was good or bad.
Not that it mattered.
And then there was the levelheaded Georgia Moon. Quiet as a mouse, that lady. She’d sit in the back of a room, soaking it all in, and then when you least expected it, she come at you with her opinion, both barrels loaded.
She was almost always right, and JW almost always listened to his little sister who happened to be his right arm.
“Don’t be so judgmental,” JB said. “He’s dealt with this kind of bullshit with what happened to him with Bella Brothers when she had him falsely arrested for abuse. And Georgia Moon is a master with words.”
“I remember reading about what happened to JW.” She’d followed the story closely, constantly looking for a glimpse of JB, but he’d kept his distance from the limelight, seemingly leaving that up to Georgia Moon, who really had a knack for defusing difficult situations. “And I only meant to imply that your family doesn’t do anything without each other. I’ll never forget the day I left. The looks that both Georgia Moon and JW gave me when I packed up my things. Not to mention the parting words JD felt the need to express. In front of Scott, no less. It’s why when the doctor told me how far along I was that Scott was able to figure out you were the father in the snap of a finger.”
“JD’s a little protective of his baby brother, but he shouldn’t have said anything. For that, I will apologize. But you made your own bed with your ex-husband.” JB leaned against the counter, setting his mug down and folding his arms across his chest. “There is only one thing I know for sure and that is I love that little boy sleeping in the other room with all my heart.”
She swallowed. While the words were music to her ears, the tight expression pulling at his face made her heart beat out of control. JB was the kind of man who didn’t like being lied to or manipulated, and that’s exactly what she’d done. She understood he’d never be able to forgive her, and she’d have to live with that. She hadn’t returned for anything other than a father for her son. “I want—”
“I really don’t give a shit what you want,” JB said with real venom dripping from every syllable. “You have to understand that the second I put all this together, my world turned upside down. The range of emotions clashing in my heart is killing me, but the love I have for that kid is the only thing keeping me from tossing you out on your ass.”
“Why don’t you tell me how you really feel,” she muttered. She raised her cup to her lips and blew before taking a sip of the scalding liquid. Her stomach churned. She knew him well enough that he wouldn’t hold back.
But maybe she deserved his wrath.
“Thanks for the opening.” He took her by the hand and led her into the family room. “You might as well get comfortable.”
“Just say what’s on your mind.” She plopped herself on the oversized chair, which had always been her favorite, avoiding the sofa. Only because they’d made love on it more than once.
Of course, just being in front of the fireplace reminded her of all the romantic evenings they had eating fried chicken while drinking his namesake, which she used to hate, but now had developed a taste for. “But please do so quietly. He’s a light sleeper in the morning and often grumpy.”
JB glanced at the staircase. “He’s a sweet kid. You’ve done a great job with him.”
“Thank you.” She supposed she should take the compliments where she could get them.
He let out a long breath. “But that doesn’t change the fact that I’m angry as hell. One minute I want to tell you to get the fuck off my ranch. That I’m going to hire a lawyer and take him from you.”
She bolted to her feet, sloshing the coffee down her front.
He raced to her side, yanking off his shirt and patting down her chest.
“Knock it off. I’m fine,” she said, giving him a good shove. “And if you dare try that, I will make you wish you never heard my name.”
He stumbled backward with wide eyes. “Right now, I have no intention of doing that. But you and him moving back to Texas is a problem.” He took a step forward and pressed his finger over her lips. “It’s something we’re going to have to deal with and discuss at length. But with our emotions running so hot, now is not the time.”
She nodded, letting all the air in her lungs out in one big swish.
“I waffle between hating you for what you did to me and being in awe of you for all that you’ve accomplished. On the one hand you lied to me, your ex-husband, and most importantly, that amazing little boy.”
She held up her hand. “I omitted the truth from Jimmy because if I had been honest with him, that JB Whiskey was his father, he would have found a way to reach you. He would have told the world, because come on, let’s face it. Anyone in the rodeo business knows Whiskey Ranch and the Whiskey family and the rodeo has been my life. I needed to protect him. And I wanted to be the one to tell you.”
“But you waited five fucking years.” He held up his hand and wiggled his fingers. “I can’t ever forgive you for stealing the first four years of his life from me. And when he’s a teenager, he might resent you for that.”
She narrowed her eyes. Anger burned through her heart and soul. “Don’t you dare threaten me, Jim Beam Whiskey.” She poked him dead center in the chest with her index finger.
“How is that a threat? I’m just stating a possible fact.” He cocked his head.
“No. You’re not. Because good parents would give their children the reasons for their actions and would never pit one against the other, and while you didn’t come out and say you’d poison his thoughts against me, you sure as fuck implied it.”
He took a step back and held up both his hands. “Okay. Okay. So I did. But do you see where I’m at here? I went to a rodeo to pick up a couple of horses, trying like hell to avoid you, and what d
o I find? A son. One that I didn’t know I had. And of all the things in my life, that’s the one thing I knew I would regret.”
She gasped. “You don’t want him?”
“No. Of course I want him. That’s not what I meant.” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “I’m a confirmed bachelor. I don’t want to be married or have a long-term relationship with any woman which meant I wouldn’t be having kids, and I like kids. No. I love kids, and that would always be the one thing in my life that I knew I would regret.” He turned, making his way to the fireplace. Pressing his hands against the brick, he shook his head. “But now, you’ve given me that one thing, making it really fucking hard to hate you. And damn it, Cheyenne, I really want to hate you.”
She inched forward, reaching out her hand. Electricity fired from her fingertips as she touched his bare shoulder.
He flinched.
“I wanted to hate you for not answering my calls. Maybe I did for a while. Maybe I wanted to punish you for not caring enough about me or the time we spent together to at least let me explain,” she whispered, contemplating if she should tell him she had every intention of leaving Scott, but what good would that do other than pour more salt on open wounds?
Besides, JB hadn’t loved her and he’d made that clear.
“I don’t tolerate lies and you betrayed me.”
“I know,” she said. “To say I’m sorry isn’t good enough.”
He turned, catching her gaze with his intense dark eyes. He traced the outline of her face with his finger. “Why’d you name him Jimmy?”
“I think that’s obvious,” she said with a chuckle.
“But is it short for James?”
She shook her head. “It’s Jim. Just Jim. Like his father.”
He cracked a smile and arched a brow. “Middle name?”
“Well, if I had named him Jim Beam, everyone would have figured it out. So I couldn’t do that.”
“I understand.”
“His full name is Jim Elijah Craig Hawkins.”
JB’s jaw slacked open. He lifted his hand and covered his heart. “You gave him my father’s name?”
She nodded.
“You really make it impossible for me to loathe you.”
JB parked the Jeep near the front gate, shifting into neutral and pulling the emergency brake, doing his best to ignore the beauty riding shotgun. He was still reeling from finding out Cheyenne had given his son his father’s name. JB had been only ten when his parents had died, and he often struggled to pull up the memories that JW, Georgia Moon, and even JD had.
A few days before Cheyenne had left Whiskey Ranch five years ago, she’d found an old scrapbook he’d made when he’d been in the sixth grade. It contained pictures along with handwritten memories of his parents. It was all he had of his life before his folks were killed, and he still kept it in his nightstand. He pulled it out every so often so he wouldn’t forget.
Only, he couldn’t remember the sound of their voices. He could picture his mother tossing her head back and laughing. He knew she had a beautiful laugh, and that it tickled his ears and warmed his heart, he just couldn’t bring up the sound.
“You’re deep in thought,” Cheyenne said.
“I’m just going through this press release in my head.” He actually hadn’t given it a second thought, which he should. He reached behind him and grabbed the piece of paper Georgia Moon had handed him a few hours ago. “Are you okay with all this?”
“I created this problem. I need to fix it, and the only way to do that is to make a statement.” She tucked her long hair behind her ears. “What about you? The media is going to have a lot of questions for you too.”
“I’m not worried about me. My only concern is for Jimmy. We need to protect him, so squelching this before it becomes a media frenzy is the only way.”
“Your siblings and their families are being really great about all this.”
“At one point or another, they’ve all had a situation that required a good speech in front of the cameras.” He scanned the words on the page. There was no reason to toss her under the bus, casting blame in order to make him come out smelling like roses.
Because he knew he wasn’t totally innocent in this situation. He did whatever he could to avoid her, and if she’d shown up, he would have had her chased off the property by JW’s dogs.
But they needed to give the press enough of a bone to get them to go follow another story so he could go about the business of getting to know his son and develop a plan to convince Cheyenne to leave Texas and move to Whiskey Ranch. They would never be a couple, but they could be a family.
However, he never liked lying. Not even by omission and this statement was exactly that.
“But you’ve never had to stand in front of the media before,” she said.
“I’ve been lucky not to get caught with my pants down, so to speak.”
“I don’t like this,” she said. “We’re basically saying that you knew, not right away, but you knew when you came to the rodeo.”
“I know. But it’s what my family thinks is best all around. So that’s what we’re doing.”
“Okay.” She slipped from the passenger seat. “Let’s do this.”
He let out a puff of air. He’d never been one to stand in front of the press. One of the many reasons he’d left the rodeo. He much preferred the comfort of his own home. Some people called him a loner. Others called him a ladies’ man. And back before JD got married, he and his brother used to be called the Double Shot.
He missed those days of bar hopping and having a permanent wingman, but he’d never begrudge his brother the happiness he’d finally found in Annette. Besides, he was getting too old to go chasing tail. Not that he wanted to settle down, but now that he had a kid, it was time to buck up.
Folding the piece of paper, he tucked it in his back pocket and took Cheyenne’s hand and gave it a good squeeze. As soon as they stepped through the gates, he could hear the rapid shutter of a camera, but no one shouted questions, being respectful that JB and Cheyenne had said they would address them first.
He helped her to the makeshift podium that the ranch hands had created earlier in the morning. Staring out into the crowd of fifteen or so reporters and at least twice that many people holding cameras. He swallowed his pounding heart as he took out the crumpled paper and flattened it on the wood before adjusting the microphone, thankful his hand didn’t shake.
“As you all know, I’m not the one who generally speaks on behalf of the Whiskey family or Whiskey Ranch. That task is left up to my lovely sister, Georgia Moon, or my much older brother, JW. But since the topic at hand not only has nothing to do with ranch business, and everything to do with my personal life, I’m standing here before you.”
Cheyenne cleared her throat, inching a little closer. “Yesterday, minutes after it was announced that I broke the world record for bronc riding, I brought my four year-old son, Jimmy, up on stage with me. It was an intense and thrilling day all around. And having gotten caught up in the moment, I inadvertently implied that Jimmy is JB Whiskey’s son.”
Shit. That wasn’t how she was supposed to say it.
“Cheyenne, are you saying he’s not?” a reporter shouted.
She shook her head, holding up her hand. “No. Wrong word choice on my part. Jimmy is most definitely JB’s boy. Besides that Jimmy looks just like him, he also has his father’s stubborn streak and his patience and understanding with a horse. It’s truly amazing to see that coming from a small child.”
Holy shit. She was good.
And really? Jimmy had the Whiskey whisper?
He pushed that thought from his head. He’d have all summer with his boy. Right now, he’d have to stick with the script Georgia Moon laid out; otherwise, he’d say something really fucking stupid.
Not simply a bad choice of words.
“When I left the rodeo circuit five years ago, no one questioned the reason,” Cheyenne said. “I was pregnant. And I was marrie
d. Even when my ex-husband and I separated, before my son was born, we kept our reason to ourselves to protect…” She paused, glancing at JB, making eye contact. “To protect an innocent child who doesn’t deserve to be the center of something that I don’t regret, but that would have undoubtedly, and many of you in the press have proven me correct, turned scandalous and ugly. The only mistake I made in this entire situation was not to tell JB he was Jimmy’s father, something that I will have to live with for the rest of my life.”
Well, fuck. That was totally off-script, and she shouldn’t have put that burden completely on herself.
He looped his arm around her waist, pulling her close. His heart softened.
But not completely.
“JB, what do you have to say about all this?” someone shouted. “It must have come as a shock.”
“Of course it did, but Cheyenne is leaving out one very important detail. When she left Whiskey Ranch after her training, she did try to reach out, and I refused her phone calls. Let’s not forget my reputation, and it’s not all false. I’m not the settling-down type of man like my brothers or sister. But we’ve now lost sight of the purpose of this press conference.” He really needed to pull this back and gain some semblance of making sure the press didn’t hound him, or Cheyenne, or anyone in his family every time they took a step off the ranch. “We’ve all made mistakes in our lives. We all live with a regret or two. As we grow older and mature, we do our best to right those, and that is what Cheyenne and I are doing. We’ve made a conscious choice to do the right thing for our son, and we’d appreciate it if you’d take your cameras and microphones and walk away today. Let us spend some time becoming a family, and I can promise you in a few months, we will come back, sit down with you, and give you all an interview.”
“Does this mean you and Cheyenne are a couple?” a reporter asked.
“No,” JB said quickly and perhaps a little too harshly, but that point needed to be driven home. “We are friends, and we need this time to find the best way to co-parent. Please. Understand we’re talking about a four-year-old little boy who has been dreaming about the day he got to meet his daddy. If any of you are parents, you must understand that this is a fragile time for us as a family, but especially for Jimmy. I beg you to back off.” He raised his arm, showing the press the palm of his hand. “That’s all. Thank you for your time.” He nudged Cheyenne down the steps and back through the gate, back to the protection of Whiskey Ranch.
