A Real Cowboy Never Says No

by Stephanie Rowe

  Something twisted in his gut at her words. He would have expected it to be fear, maybe even terror at the thought of getting irrevocably entwined with a woman, but fear wasn’t what he felt. It just felt…right. The most intense feeling of satisfaction. “That’s a problem?”

  “Yes. I need it to be real, Chase. I need you to be with me, not a fantasy, and it needs to be the same for you.” With a sigh, she laid her hand on his cheek. Her fingers were so soft that it was almost surreal. “I think I fell a little bit in love with you the moment you said your name at the church, and that’s how I know it’s not real. It’s too soon for how strongly I feel about you, which means I’ve fallen in love with a fantasy who isn’t real, and it’s the same for you.” She dropped her hand and stepped back. “I’ll leave today, Chase. I have to. I can’t live under false pretenses anymore.”

  Before he could respond, she grabbed some clothes from her luggage, and ducked out into the hall. He heard the bathroom door shut, and the shower began to run.

  With a deep sigh, he sank down on the bed, and ran his fingers through his hair. Was she right? Was he making shit up because of ten years of idealization? He wasn’t a fool. He knew that she was flawed. She had to be. So what would he do the first time she did something that triggered a memory, one of those hot spots that made him shut women out? Would he still believe she was different from all the other women? Or would he react instinctively to protect himself and his brothers from a perceived threat, and boot her to the curb without giving her a chance, like he’d done with every other woman he’d ever been with? She deserved more than that, so much more. But could he give her more? Could he give her the trust she deserved and was worthy of, when the shit got difficult, which he knew it would?

  He turned his head to look at the picture on the nightstand. It was a photograph of him and two of his brothers from when they were kids. They were on the Johnson ranch, standing around Killer, the dead-mean old bull that ran the place. All three of them were grinning their heads off, each of them with a hand on the bull that they’d once been too scared of to go near. He picked up the photograph and looked at it, running his finger over the faces of his brothers.

  Without the Johnson ranch, he would be dead now, and so would his brothers. Old Skip Johnson had chosen to put him to work on the ranch instead of turning him over to the cops when he’d found him drunk and trying to steal his booze. That ranch had been Chase’s salvation, and that was the ranch he now had his home on. He’d bought it from Skip five years ago, giving his former mentor one year to live his fantasies out as a retiree in Florida before he’d died.

  Was Chase really willing to risk the dream of rebuilding his family just for a chance at a fantasy with a woman, a fantasy that was so lofty that he knew it wasn’t based on reality? Mira was right. There was no way she was the flawless woman he’d created in his mind, and there was no way she, or any woman, was worth risking his relationship with his brothers for. Silently, he set the picture back down.

  The answer had to be no.

  It wasn’t only his life. It was his brothers’ as well. He couldn’t do this thing with her. He would have to let her leave. It had all been a mistake.

  Regret pouring through him, he stood up and strode across the room to retrieve his jeans, which were in a pile on top of her suitcase.

  He grabbed his pants off it, but the belt buckle caught on the suitcase, jerking it off the table. It landed with a thump, dumping the contents across the pine flooring.

  Swearing, he scooped everything up, trying to shove it all back inside before she returned to the room. He tried not to notice the black lace bra or silk underwear. He ignored the bottle of nail polish that was in the exact shade of his favorite wild flower in the spring. And he refused to contemplate how that crazy-soft light cream sweater would hug her curves.

  But when he picked up a pair of light blue baby socks, he couldn’t toss them aside. He just stared at them, shocked by how tiny they were. How in the hell could a kid be small enough to fit in them? Then he noticed another pair. Pink. Slowly, he reached down and pulled those free of the pile.

  He held both pairs in the palm of his hand, two tiny pairs of socks. They were so small, it was as if they were for dolls. He instinctively cupped his hand around them, already prepared to protect the tiny being who would wear socks that small. She’d bought one of each, ready for whatever gender she was carrying. Even though she was facing hell, she was set to take on the challenge.

  Those socks would be on the feet of the kid she carried, the one who had no dad, and was saddled with a true bastard of a grandfather. Chase looked at the burn marks on his forearm. He looked back at the socks, then back at his arm. He was going to sentence a kid to that? AJ’s child? The baby of the first woman he’d trusted enough to allow into his house and his bed? Yeah, technically, it was the guest bedroom, but it was the same thing. His world. His sanctuary.

  He wasn’t a fool. He was a bitter, cynical bastard who didn’t trust anyone. If there was any reason for him not to trust Mira, he would have seen it. But instead, he’d brought her into his world.

  Yeah, maybe he saw her through his fantasies, but he knew he was right about her being worth trusting. She was willing to walk away from his help and face AJ’s dad herself, rather than lose her freedom to a man.

  He gently laid the socks on top of her clothes, and he knew what he had to do.

  He’d won over a lot of battered horses, and gained their trust. It was time to do the same with Mira. He could make this work.

  Chapter 9

  Mira leaned against the wall in the shower, letting the hot water wash Chase’s scent off her skin. She felt surprisingly, achingly alone. She knew she had to leave the house, but last night in Chase’s arms had been amazing. It was the first time she’d felt alive in a long while.

  She hadn’t been lying when she’d said a part of her wanted to lose herself in the moment with him, but Taylor’s words kept ringing in her ears. She was falling too hard and too fast for him, and there was so much at stake. Her own life, and her baby’s.

  The truth was, she was a complete mess right now, from her mom’s death, and then AJ’s, and then the baby thing. Of course she was latching onto Chase. What woman wouldn’t? But that could only lead to bad things. She couldn’t even find her own feet right now. How could she trust her judgment?

  She wanted to be saved, and the last time that had happened, she’d wound up pregnant. The time before that? She’d wound up engaged to a man who’d wanted her to abandon her paralyzed mother to go party with him at college. So, what would it be with Chase? What more did she have to lose?

  Her baby. He’d already said he’d go on record as the baby’s father. That would give him all the power in the world when it came to her life.

  There was a light knock at the bathroom door, making her jump. “Who is it?” Dumb question. There was only one person in the house besides her.

  “It’s me.” Chase’s deep voice rumbled through her, making goose bumps pop up on her skin.

  Why did the blasted man have to affect her like that? “What do you want?” The glass door to the shower was fogged up, but not enough for privacy.

  “We need to talk.”

  She almost laughed at his timing. “I’m in the shower.”

  “I know. Can I come in?” The door opened as he asked it, and she instinctively covered her breasts as she saw him step into the room. He was blurred from the steam on the shower door, but she could tell he was wearing only his jeans. His chest was bare, and she could see the shadows of his muscles and the breadth of his shoulders, even through the distortion of the fogged glass.

  “Can’t you wait until I get out?”

  He leaned against the sink and folded his arms over his chest, facing the shower. “No.”

  “I’m naked.”

  “I know. I’m not blind.” He held up something pink and blue. “You bought these?”

  She couldn’t tell what they were. “Chase,
seriously, I’m not comfortable with you in here. Can you wait outside?”

  “I spent half the night kissing every inch of your body. I made love to you three times, and I know what every part of you tastes like. I know every curve on your body. I know you have a scar on your left breast, and a freckle on the inside of your right thigh. I know you have a birthmark on your left butt cheek in the shape of a butterfly, and I know the sound you make when you have an orgasm, and how it changes depending on whether it’s an orgasm from oral sex or making love. The feel of your naked body entwined with mine while we slept will be imprinted upon my mind forever, as will the color of your skin in the moonlight. Having me wait outside won’t change any of that, no matter how much you wish it could, so yeah, I want to talk, and I want to talk now.”

  By the time he finished his little speech, her cheeks were hot, her skin was tingling, and her lower belly was clenched in memory of all the sensations he’d evoked in her last night. “Yes, we were naked last night, but this is different. You’ve never seen me in the shower—”

  The shower door slid open before she could finish her sentence, and she found herself face-to-face with him. His blue gaze was intense, drilling into hers so deeply she felt like ducking behind a tree. He wasn’t even looking at her body. Just her face. “Now I’ve seen you in the shower,” he said. “We need to talk, Mira.”

  She wrinkled her nose at him. “You have no sense of personal space.”

  He didn’t even acknowledge her point. “You can’t leave.”

  She blinked, startled by his change in topic. “Leave where?”

  “My house. You said you were moving out.” He frowned. “You’re not?”

  “Oh, that, right.” She cleared her throat, and gave up arguing with him about the shower. He was right. There wasn’t any part of her left that he hadn’t claimed last night, and he was clearly a man on a mission. “Go away.” She grabbed the door and slid it shut.

  He opened the door back up and held up what she now recognized as the baby socks she’d spontaneously picked up at the gift shop at the airport on her way to Wyoming.

  Embarrassment flooded her cheeks. “It was just a whim.”

  “It’s a baby.” His gaze finally left her face and went to her belly. “You’re carrying a baby, Mira.”

  Her hand instinctively went to her stomach, which was still in its ordinary, “a little too much chocolate” rounded state. “I know.”

  “Sex last night was great,” he said. “I’m not going to deny that I’d move you into my bedroom in a split second if you’d do it.”

  Something inside her twisted, and she couldn’t tell if it was stark, raving terror, or the deepest, most beautiful desire. “Chase—”

  He held up his hand. “I know the arguments. I was just saying it like it is.” He folded his arms over his chest and leaned back against the sink, giving her the illusion of a little bit of personal space. “Here’s the truth. I’m not going to lie and try to claim that I’m not attracted to you. I never let myself get a hard-on for a woman. I make sure it doesn’t happen. But it’s going on with you, and that’s the way it is. But—” He again held his hand to silence her when she opened her mouth to protest. “I get that there are issues here. I’ve been obsessed with you for a decade. I’m not going to lie about that either, but I get your point that we’ve both been living in a fantasy land about each other.”

  Something tightened in her chest. A decade? He’d really thought about her for a decade? She didn’t know what AJ had said about her, but she knew it wasn’t glamorous. He’d seen her with dirt under her toenails and sweat stains under her arms hundreds of times. “Okay, so—”

  He flipped the baby socks in his hand. “But what’s reality is this kid, and the fact that he’s got a grandfather who will abuse him if he gets his hands on him. You can’t stop Alan alone. I can’t stop him alone. But together, we have a chance.”

  She sighed. “So, we’re back to where we started.”

  “No, we’re not.” He caught the socks, snatching them out of the air. “I spent the night making love to you. We’re not back to where we started. We’ll never be back there, and I don’t want to be.”

  Suddenly, the water seemed too hard against her skin. Too hot. Her skin felt sensitive and on fire. “I do.”

  “No, you don’t.” He levered himself off the sink and walked over to her, stopping on the threshold to the shower. This time, his eyes burned over her body, searing her with the raw desire in his gaze. “It’s complicated, but it’s good.”

  She lifted her chin, letting the water run over her body, refusing to cower before him. “It’s not good.” At his raised eyebrows, she sighed. “Okay, it was good. Great. But—”

  “They’re two different things,” he said. “Us, and the baby. For the baby, you need to stay here. For us…” He shrugged, his gaze boring into her. “We need to figure that out, but I’ll never let what happens between us affect my commitment to making sure that kid wakes up every morning of his or her life feeling safe.”

  Her throat tightened at the passion in his voice. He meant every word. “Does that mean safe from you?”

  He blinked, his brow furrowing. “What?”

  She couldn’t help blurting out the fear that had been gnawing at her since her conversation with Taylor. “What if you wind up being the bad guy, too? What if you’re the baby’s father on paper, and you wind up being the bad guy? Who protects us from you?”

  He stared at her, and a cold, cold mask settled over his face. “You think that just because my father was an abusive drunk that I’ll be that kind of father? You think I’d actually do something to hurt another living being? A child?”

  At his words, a deep feeling of foreboding settled over her. “I didn’t mean it like that—”

  “No?” His voice was cool. “What did you mean, exactly?”

  “I just meant that I’ve judged people incorrectly before. I believe in you, but how do I know I’m right? To give you parental rights to my child when I don’t even know you is terrifying on any level. It has nothing to do with what kind of father you had, and everything to do with the fact that I don’t know you.”

  He stared at her, and said nothing, and she began to realize that she’d just touched upon a nerve that was buried deep inside him.

  “Chase.” She shut off the water and stepped out of the shower, not even caring that she was naked anymore. “I grew up with AJ. His father is a terrible man, but AJ inherited none of his anger, his violent tendencies, or his lack of humanity. I know from personal experience that a person’s parents don’t define who they are. I know that, so please don’t ever think I’m judging you based on that.”

  Again, he said nothing, but she felt the wall that was building between them.

  Fear rippled through her, and she realized that he was slipping out of her grasp. Too late, she realized that she’d already begun to count on his support and his loyalty. Without him as backup, she was in a really precarious position. “Chase.” She set her hands on his chest, and his muscles flexed beneath her palms. “Don’t judge me based on your own past. I’m really scared right now, and struggling to make choices with my head, and not with my heart. My heart wants to trust you, but I don’t know you that well. Please understand that.”

  He closed his eyes for a moment and inhaled deeply. His skin was damp from the steam of the shower, making her fingers want to slide off his chest.

  “Chase?”

  He opened his eyes, and his gaze bore into her. “I’ll have my lawyer draw up a contract that protects you from me. I’ll pay for you to have another lawyer look it over. In the meantime, we need to get you a doctor in town. I’ll ask around, and find out who’s the best. We’ll hold off on getting married until you’re far enough along. That would be what, the third month? That’s when things are usually pretty confirmed? In the meantime, you need to stay here and make the world believe that we’re in love, having sex all the time, and I knocked you up. Sound go
od? Safe enough?”

  Gone was his warmth and affection. She could practically see his shields going up between them. It was what she wanted, right? His protection but not risking her heart? But it felt terrible. She hated it. “I’m not the women who betrayed you so many times, Chase,” she said softly. “I’m just me.”

  Something flickered in his eyes, and for a moment, she thought she saw the old Chase, the one who made her feel like the most cherished woman in the world. Then it was gone. “I know.” He reached out and brushed his finger across her cheek. She went utterly still, her heart pounding in anticipation.

  When he’d first walked into the bathroom, she wanted nothing more than for him to leave. Now, all she could think about was how much she wanted him to kiss her.

  His gaze dropped to her lips, and she went still. Tension rose between them, thick and steamy, and her pulse quickened. Kiss me, Chase. Don’t give up on me.

  She couldn’t ask him to do it. She couldn’t reach out. She was too scared. He needed to make the first move and bridge the gap between them, to hold them together while they battled through the scars they both carried.

  His gaze met hers, and she saw decades of abuse in his eyes. Hurt, pain, suffering, and a fierce, indomitable will to survive and protect. “Chase?”

  He sighed. “What the hell am I going to do with you?” His fingers slipped under her chin, and he bent his head to kiss her.

  His lips were like velvety magic against hers, his kiss a seduction that swept through her like a sensual caress. She instinctively melted against him, needing the physical connection with him. She clasped her hands behind his neck as his arms locked around her, pulling her against him. Her breasts were flush against his bare chest, and her nipples hardened instantly at the sensation of his body against hers. They were both damp from the shower, and the wetness made her breasts slide over his chest as he backed her against the sink, deepening the kiss.