by Em Petrova
“She’s ready to push,” he said.
Delaney shot him a wry smile. “I know, cowboy. Ready, Rachel? Let’s get this baby out.” As she guided the baby out with one hand, she held a stethoscope to the bulge in Rachel’s stomach over what must be the child’s chest. Her expression didn’t change as she listened to Rachel’s heart. He could have told her it was strong—he felt it all the way into his chest.
Delaney ripped away the stethoscope and worked at getting the baby out. Minutes passed. Rachel was exhausted—he felt it in the tremble of her muscles. He mopped her face and spoke calming words like those he’d say to one of the cattle that had a difficult birthing. He’d pulled plenty of foals back-ass-wards, but never a baby.
Thank Christ his sisters-in-law had the sense to go to a hospital for this.
Concern puckered Delaney’s brow as Rachel fell against him in exhaustion. “Okay, I’m going to push here on your abdomen to try to move the baby’s head into position for birthing. You’re doing great, honey. But now’s the biggest moment. I need everything you’ve got, okay?”
She nodded and pushed against Lane to gain leverage. He sat up with her and watched Delaney’s face as she counted. “I see a chin. Push, Rachel!”
She bore down with everything in her and he gave her all the strength he could, wishing it was much more. When the baby flopped into Delaney’s hands, she briskly rubbed it with a towel and then a faint cry sounded.
Instead of giving her the baby, she turned away with it. Cradling it in her arms, he couldn’t see what she was doing but it gave a sudden strong cry.
He gave a relieved laugh, and Rachel followed. She was openly crying. “Is my baby okay? Is it a boy like I thought?”
Delaney turned to her, the baby wrapped in a towel, its face red and angry with louder cries now. “A girl.” She placed the baby in the young girl’s arms and while she stared down at the child’s face, Delaney took up the stethoscope again, listening intently to its lungs. But Lane could have told her they were good—the kid was screaming her head off.
After several minutes, Delaney sat back on the edge of the bed. Her face glowed, and again he stared at her, seeing a side of her that intrigued the hell out of him. And he couldn’t be prouder. She was a freakin’ miracle worker.
“Your baby looks to be in good health despite no prenatal care.”
Rachel dipped her head a little. “I tried to eat well and exercise.”
“How long did you know you were pregnant?” Delaney asked gently.
“The whole time.”
“And you didn’t tell your family? Friends?”
She shook her head.
“What about the father?”
“He moved away.”
“Is he out of high school?” Maybe Delaney was wondering if the kid was her granddaughter.
Rachel shook her head. “He’s a senior. We just had one night together and I haven’t talked to him since.”
“Okay, we need to get you to the hospital now to make sure you’re both okay.”
Rachel tensed, and Delaney rested a hand on her arm. “I’ll help you break the news to your parents, but you have to trust me on this. It’s for the best.”
“Do you want me to get the truck started?” Lane asked, still stuck behind the young girl.
Delaney seemed to notice him. She waved him out and Rachel settled against the pillows Delaney propped up, admiring her newborn daughter.
“I’ll call for an ambulance to take her. I’ve been on Nutcracker Road with you, remember?” They shared a grin, and he went for his duffle in the corner that held his clean clothes. As he dressed, he only kept half an ear on the women’s conversation.
His name popped up, and he looked around. Both women were staring at him. Luckily, he was dressed.
“What’s that song by the Beatles? With Lane in it?” Rachel asked, transferring her attention to her daughter again.
“Penny Lane.” Delaney’s voice was amused.
“I’ll call her Penny Lane. Thank you both for helping me. I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t been home.”
The thought sent ice skittering along his veins. If Delaney had already left for work, he would have been delivering the newborn on his own. Was it too early for whiskey?
While Delaney took care of cleaning up Rachel and the girl cooed to the baby in her arms, he went into the kitchen and scrubbed water over his face. What the hell had just happened? One minute he’s thinking of bending Delaney over and fucking her silly in the barn and the next he has a baby named after him?
His phone vibrated, and this time he looked to see thirty messages from Andrew and his brothers. He skimmed past them to one name that stood out. Mainly because Kashley never texted him.
Call me ASAP.
Lane, where the hell are you?
OK, if you don’t call me soon, I’m going to tell the crew where you’re at.
Oh lawdy. He pressed a button and dialed Kashley. She answered on the first ring.
“What the hell’s going on?”
He looked back toward the hall, unable to put what had just happened into words. Too much. “What’s wrong?”
“You know I take care of the social media for all of you.”
“Yeah. Can’t stand Twitter and Facebook makes me twitch.”
She ignored his outburst. “Well I read through all the Tweets with the #RopeNRide hashtag, and I saw someone I recognized.”
“Who’s that?” The baby was crying again. Probably hungry.
“My cousin Brant.”
Shit.
“So?” He tried to keep his tone neutral.
“It’s a cryptic message that the public probably wouldn’t understand. But I do because I know you and Delaney.”
“What’s it say?”
“#RopeNRide Lane is a motherfucker.”
He almost laughed out loud. Talk about calling it what it was. “Lots of people hate me.”
“Yeah, but I know Brant. He isn’t really one to call names.”
“Look, I met him and he didn’t take to me too well.”
“He called you a motherfucker.”
“That’s right.” He rubbed a hand over his face again. Where the hell was his hat?
“I think there’s more to it,” Kashley said.
“Such as?” He looked out the kitchen window but from this side, couldn’t see the barn.
“Are you sleeping with my aunt, Lane?”
Sleeping with her, making her scream in pleasure and delivering babies with her. The most excitement he’d had in his life.
“Kash—”
“Just answer me.” She sounded resigned, as if she already knew the truth. Why was she asking?
“Haven’t done much sleepin’.”
“Oh my God.”
“Brant mighta walked in on us the other day.”
“Okay, I’m hanging up now.”
“You’re the one who wanted me to call. What’s the problem?”
“The problem,” she hissed as if trying to keep others from overhearing, “is that I thought it was kind of cute that you were crushing on Delaney when you left here. But I don’t actually want you as an uncle as well as brother-in-law. This is getting far too Jerry Springer for me.”
He burst out laughing. “Bet you wish you’d kept your nose out of it.”
“Your momma didn’t raise you to be crazy.”
“What’s crazy about a single guy being with a single lady?”
“You know the world expects you to live up to Bachelor of the Year status.”
He grunted. “Who gives a shit what they want?” He wanted Delaney.
She sighed. “Just be careful, Lane. I care for you both, and I don’t want either of you hurt.”
At that moment, Delaney came into the kitchen. He cut off Kashley’s call and dropped his phone to the counter. In two steps, he had his lover in his arms, kissing the hell out of her.
The fact that she returned his kiss tongue stroke
for stroke told him that she didn’t give a damn what anyone thought either.
* * * * *
The nurses gathered around Delaney shook their heads. “I can’t believe she just came to you with a baby foot about to pop out of her. No prenatal care, no nothing!” one said.
They were gathered at the nurse’s station of the maternity ward, where Delaney had just finished visiting with the new mother and baby, who Rachel had practically been holding every minute since delivery. The girl had a strong bond with her child already. And her parents had taken it surprisingly well. Once they’d set eyes on that beautiful little girl, their hearts had melted.
When Delaney thought of the series of events that had taken place that morning, her mind went automatically to Lane. She’d expected him to be squeamish, but she shouldn’t be surprised. Lane never acted the way she believed he would.
He’d been great, supporting Rachel while she pushed out little Penny Lane. The moniker made her smile every time. The famous man gave his stamp on everything he did.
After walking into the kitchen and seeing him standing there looking disheveled and his cocky guard down a little, she couldn’t resist kissing him. After ravishing her, the EMTs had arrived and they didn’t have much time to speak after that. But he’d sent her a text that he’d meet her after work and take her for a celebratory beer if she felt up for it.
She took her leave of the nurses and headed back to the office for another few visits. A wellness check for a woman in her forties and a few other young women with complaints about irregular periods. After she finished, she was feeling more than ready to meet Lane.
She took a few minutes to change into street clothes. She fluffed her hair and looked at her reflection— a very happy woman stared back at her.
The thought scared the hell out of her. When they ended this insane affair, she’d be depressed as hell. Lane made her feel alive. While she’d never felt old, with him she had the energy of a much younger woman.
When she walked out into the parking lot, she had convinced herself this would never work and she needed to use the time alone with him to break things off.
Then she set eyes on the man.
Leaning against her truck, hat dipped low. The cut of his body and attitude drew her like a cat in heat. Her body tingled just being several yards from him. He looked up. Her stomach heated, warmth slithered low between her thighs.
The grin he gave her sent shocks of need to her senses. She slowed her pace as he pulled away from the truck. God, he was built to please. He reached for her, and she found herself in his arms, tucked under his chin as he held her and breathed her in.
She wrapped her arms around him and let herself have this moment to gather her thoughts. What was she going to do?
He knuckled her chin up. When her gaze locked with his, something deep in her chest gave a soft sigh of surrender.
He gently brushed his lips across hers and then pulled away far too quickly. He took her hand and led her around the truck to the passenger’s seat. After he got behind the wheel, he shot her that crooked grin. “So… dinner?”
“I’m starved.” She was, but not for food. He looked good enough to eat in low-slung jeans and a western shirt. The pearl buttons glinted as he put the truck into drive.
“Do you know where you’re going?” she asked as they rolled onto the street.
“Yep.”
“You know this town better than I do and I’ve worked her for years.”
He gave her a sly glance. “I have a confession.”
Her stomach did a little roll of worry. “What’s that?”
“Your ranch work takes me couple hours at most. And I drive around a lot to pass the time.”
“But… a couple hours? How can that be? You’ve fixed up a lot.”
“Gonna hit that barn roof tomorrow. Got the supplies today.”
“I owe you so much. Of course, I’ll pay for the supplies.”
He ignored her.
“How’s Edison?”
He gave her a sharp look. “The donkey?”
“Yeah.”
He laughed. “I never knew that was his name.”
She arched a brow. “Then how’d you guess?”
“Since the donkey was the one I trudged back to the barn on my back, it’s not much of a guess.”
They shared a grin. Talking with him came easily.
“Who named it?”
It took her a second to roll with the subject—she was too busy looking at the chiseled line of his jaw and the light stubble there. About how it would feel scraping her inner thighs.
“Um… Brant did.”
“Figured.”
“Look, we haven’t really discussed my son. I never really apologized for his behavior that day.”
Lane held up a hand to stop her. “That’s not on you.”
“But I raised him.”
“My parents raised West and he still has a sex tape out.”
Her brows shot up. “A sex tape? Please tell me it’s not with Malou. That woman is far too sweet—”
“Nope. It was after. Well, in the middle. It’s messy. Anyway, she knows about it of course and has let it slide because she loves my dipshit brother.” He eyed her. “I’m hoping you’ll let some things about me slide too.”
“Such as?” She liked the playfulness of his tone but she was still nervous as hell. She buried her head in the sand when it came to news and media. For all she knew, Lane had two sex tapes out.
He’s damn good at it. He could have a series.
He did have a ten-position article though.
“I was hopin’ you’d let it slide that I had a young woman glued to me earlier today when I was in my boxer shorts.”
Laughter burst from her. He’d looked positively shocked at Delaney’s request to strip and help Rachel, but she’d barely noticed in her rush to get the baby delivered. Damn, the whole incident had been fraught with danger. Not knowing where the umbilical cord was—if it was compressed and the baby starving for oxygen—or even around little Penny Lane’s neck...
Now that she looked back on the event, she could laugh about the situation she’d put Lane in.
“You did look surprised.”
His brows shot up. “Hell, woman. Surprised isn’t really how I’d put it.” They laughed for a second and then he sobered. He sent her a dark, intense look, his voice a low rumble. “You were amazing.”
She felt heat climb her cheeks. Hell, she was far too old for blushing, yet around him she couldn’t seem to stop. “Just my job.”
“You handle yourself well. I’ve always seen you poised and confident, but that…” Her nipples hardened under that stare. “It was sexy as hell.”
Suddenly she thought of a dozen places where they could park and make out. Abandoned parking lots and back alleys. But she couldn’t act like a teenager even if she was practically sleeping with one.
Another few minutes and they were pulled up in front of a quaint restaurant she’d never seen before. “I didn’t know this was here.”
“Supposed to have the best dining in town. And some ambiance too.” He held the door for her. Once she passed through, he placed a possessive hand on her back and led her in. The hostess took one look at his face, and obviously recognizing him, turned fifteen shades of red. Delaney felt for her—she’d been there-done that only a few minutes before.
But without a word as to his fame, the hostess led them to a candlelit table in the back. He made sure Delaney was seated before taking his chair across from her. She looked at him harder. A country boy was a charmer through and through, but this man had all the talent, it seemed. Manners and great conversation. A fucking animal in bed.
She clamped her thighs together on the need rising inside her and looked around. The room was decorated in dark shades of blue and offered an old tavern feel.
“It’s nice in here,” she said.
“It is.” He didn’t remove his gaze from her.
“How is it
that my house isn’t mobbed with reporters? Surely people are recognizing you everywhere you go.”
“I’m good at ditchin’ reporters.” He didn’t share the particulars, but she sensed by the absence of his dimple that he didn’t want to talk about it.
After they were given drinks—two beers from a local brewery—and had ordered their food, he reached across the table and took her hand. In the other, he raised his beer. “To the best midwife on the planet.”
She made a noise in her throat. “Not hardly, but thank you. You did pretty great yourself.” She clinked bottles with him and holding each other’s eyes, they took a swig.
“Later on we can practice.”
She laughed. “Practice for delivering more babies in my son’s bedroom?”
“Oh great. I just realized I was sitting on your son’s bed in my boxers.”
“I promise I won’t tell him. And I changed the sheets.”
“I meant practice the baby makin’.”
She went dead still, a light blinking out inside her. She swallowed, but the beer seemed to be coming back up her throat. “Do you want kids, Lane?”
“Sure. Couple little ones to raise hell.”
She pulled her hand from his grasp. “Of course.”
“Maybe they’ll have blonde hair.” He flicked her hair where it lay on her shoulder. Her heart dropped.
“I… I’m done having children, Lane.”
“Unable?”
The question seemed unbearably personal and difficult to discuss, but he deserved to hear that he was fucking an old lady.
“No, I can technically still have children. It’s just that in my age range, I’m a big risk.”
He lifted a shoulder and let it fall in that casual way of his. Right now, it angered her when normally she found the habit sexy.
“I know plenty of women who had children late in life.”
“I’m not going to be one.”
“All right then.” He sat back in time for the waitress to swoop in with their meals on hot platters. He cut into his steak with relish while Delaney just picked at her fettucine. She couldn’t stop the depression settling over her. Suddenly, she understood very well how Kashley must feel to want a Calhoun baby more than anything in the world.
What Delaney wouldn’t give to be younger.
