Texas on My Mind

by Delores Fossen

  “Tell you what,” Riley said, his voice all low and doused with eighty-three gallons of testosterone. “We’ll make it real but not in front of the kid. And after you’ve turned down Daniel’s proposal.”

  “Man-rule?” she grumbled under what little breath she had left. Being near all that testosterone had tightened her throat and chest along with making her nether regions do some whining and begging.

  “Man-rule number three,” Riley confirmed. “Don’t take anything that’s not mine.”

  So, there it was. Her entire debate rolled up into one ball. Or rather two—the testosterone thing was really stuck in her head. She could toss away a fifteen-year relationship that came with a marriage proposal, or she could kiss Riley. Even though that kiss might not lead to anything.

  Claire was still leaning toward the kiss.

  She didn’t spell that out to Riley, though. Didn’t have to. His sly little smile told her that he knew what she knew—that the kiss was probably going to happen even if it meant it could be the start of a good heart crushing for her.

  “Questions?” he asked.

  Yes, but it was best to change the subject. To one that would make Riley as uncomfortable as the kissing topic had made her.

  “I heard about Trisha’s visit.” She got them moving toward the porch. “Were her panties really as small as the gossips are saying?”

  Claire whispered panties just in case Ethan was paying attention. But he wasn’t. He spotted Crazy Dog asleep in his usual shady place and started running toward him.

  “They were that small,” Riley admitted. “By the way, I saw your pink panties. On the porch the other day when I was at your place.”

  Now it was her turn to freeze.

  “I just thought you should know,” he added.

  “Uh, why?” Had he been thinking about her panties?

  He shrugged with his good shoulder. “It’s just something I remembered when the subject of panties came up.” Riley looked at her, and the moment seemed to freeze, too.

  Oh, those eyes. That mouth.

  She wondered if she could call Daniel right now and nix the proposal, but that would seem sort of desperate. As if she couldn’t wait to get her mouth on Riley.

  Thankfully, she got another reminder of why that kiss couldn’t happen now. Ethan squealed and clapped when Crazy Dog lifted his ears. It only lasted a few seconds, but the signs of life clearly pleased her son and caused Riley to chuckle.

  “So, is motherhood everything you thought it would be?” he asked. He was hobbling a bit now as he made his way over toward Ethan and Crazy Dog.

  “Almost.”

  He made a sound of pain, which he tried to muffle; then he followed it with a grunt of confusion. And, yes, she could tell the difference. “Almost?” he repeated.

  Another hard question. “Well, you know how it is the first time you had sex? It hurt and was great all at the same time. That’s how motherhood is.” Too bad she hadn’t come up with a different analogy.

  “I don’t remember the hurt part.”

  Because he was a guy, he wouldn’t. And since his first time—according to the gossips anyway—had been with Trisha, Claire hated the analogy even more. “I mean, when Ethan gets hurt, I hurt probably more than he does. His smile turns me to goo. But then he can frustrate me.”

  “Like with the cookie thievery and the Baby Genius packets. Gossip,” he added when she looked surprised with his packet knowledge. “Why would you make him do those anyway?”

  He stopped beneath the shade tree, several feet from Ethan.

  “Don’t you remember?” she prompted. “I was barely a B student in school. I want more for Ethan, and the Baby Genius kits aren’t just supposed to help with IQ. They’re supposed to help with discipline, potty training and such.”

  Riley’s left eyebrow lifted. Skepticism. Something she couldn’t argue with because she was skeptical, too.

  “I’m working on the discipline,” she continued. Unfortunately, she got a reminder of one of the big discipline concerns. Ethan stomped on a clump of grass for no reason. Then he hurried to another clump to stomp it, too. “Like that.”

  “Huh?”

  “He likes to stomp on things,” she clarified.

  “Well, that’s an easy fix, and you don’t need a Baby Genius kit for it. Give him something suitable to stomp on. Like bubble wrap or some ants. Lucky used to pee on things. Anything. My dad gave him a peeing tree, and that all stopped.”

  Pee. That word sort of killed the mood.

  Sort of.

  Riley pointed out the tree that was only about ten feet from them. It was by far the smallest live oak in the yard, and she wondered if all that pee had somehow stunted its growth.

  “Lucky potty trained me the same way,” Riley added.

  She thought of Lucky. Logan’s equally hot twin brother with the reputation for the quickest zipper in town. It didn’t go with the peeing image. “Lucky potty trained you?”

  “There was some pressure involved. He was two years older than me, four at the time, and he apparently didn’t like tripping over my little potty seat in the bathroom that we shared.” He looked at her. Looked at her mouth. “Maybe you should think about making that call to Daniel?”

  “Now?” she asked, sounding way too dreamy and schoolgirlish. Actually, she sounded aroused. And was.

  “Now,” he verified. “Then we can test that kiss.”

  She nodded and reached for her phone but then stopped when she heard the splashing sound. Except it wasn’t a splash exactly. It was Ethan, and he had hiked down his elastic waist jeans and diaper and was peeing on the pee tree. He looked back at them, grinning, and finished his first out-of-diaper toileting experience by hosing down the lawn.

  Ethan giggled. Claire did, too. And somehow in all their laughter and jumping around, she ended up in Riley’s arms. The giggling and jumping immediately stopped. Claire thought maybe her heart had, too.

  Yes, her answer to Daniel would definitely be no.

  “Am I interrupting anything?” someone called out.

  Claire looked in the back door and spotted a woman coming onto the porch. She was tall, blonde and was wearing a sand-colored outfit. But she didn’t stay on the porch. With a wide smile on her face and her attention fixed on Riley, she hurried down the steps and made a beeline toward them.

  “You know her?” Claire asked. She intended to whisper it, but she obviously failed because the woman heard her.

  “Of course Riley knows me,” she answered.

  Judging from the way he grunted, he did indeed know her. And Claire got more proof of that.

  The blonde made her way to Riley, practically elbowing Claire out of the way, and hooked her arm around Riley’s neck.

  “I’m his girlfriend,” the woman purred.

  Girlfriend? Claire coughed, not a normal-sounding one, either. It sounded, well, guilty or something. Probably because it was. After all, she’d just been lusting after this woman’s boyfriend.

  Of course, Claire had heard the gossip about Riley being involved with someone, but since the gossip had come from Trisha, Claire had blown it off—figuring that it was something Riley had told Trisha to show he wasn’t interested.

  The woman smiled, all her attention on Riley. The pee on the tree held more interest for her than Claire did.

  And the smiling, purring woman took things one step further. She pulled Riley to her for a kiss that should have been Claire’s. At least it would have been if Claire had gotten a chance to make that call to Daniel.

  Sheez.

  It was French. Who the heck French-kissed in front of a toddler? Apparently this woman and Riley, that’s who.

  “Uh, I should be going,” Claire said, trying to tear her gaze away from them.

 
Thankfully, Riley did some tearing, too. He took his mouth from the woman’s, wiped his lips with the back of his hand. He also made some of those uh sounds of his own.

  “Claire, this is—”

  “Jodi Kingston,” the woman interrupted. “Like I said, I’m Riley’s girlfriend.” She thrust out her hand for Claire to shake. Claire did. Then she winced at Jodi’s lumberjack grip.

  Show-off.

  All right, that was too catty for someone she didn’t even know because after all, Riley hadn’t put a stop to that French kiss. He’d let it go on and on and on.

  “And you are?” the woman asked. She slid her arm around Riley again.

  “Claire Davidson.” She didn’t add a label like old friend. Old flame. Or the woman who’d nearly kissed your boyfriend. “And that’s my son, Ethan.”

  Of course, Ethan had turned, facing them, and was doing a full monty since he hadn’t mastered the art of pulling back up his diaper and jeans. Claire hurried over to fix that.

  “Surprised to see me?” Jodi asked Riley.

  Claire hadn’t planned to eavesdrop, but Jodi didn’t exactly whisper the question.

  “Definitely surprised,” Riley answered. Unlike Jodi, he was volleying his attention between Claire and her. “I thought you were in Kandahar.”

  “I was. I finished up early. Hitched a ride on a C-130 to get to Ramstein. Then bummed another ride with some Turkish guy on a motorcycle. He got me to the airport, and I caught the first plane out of there so I could come see you.”

  Riley nodded. Nodded again. “Jodi’s a civilian combat photographer for a couple of the big newsmagazines,” Riley explained to Claire. “We run into each other sometimes in the field.”

  Jodi laughed as if that were some sexy inside joke. Riley didn’t crack a smile, though, probably because he felt uncomfortable. He hadn’t exactly gotten caught with his hand in the cookie jar, but Claire didn’t think it was her imagination that he’d been thinking about putting his hand in the jar.

  Or maybe that was wishful thinking on her part.

  What wasn’t in dispute was that Jodi looked a lot like her. Same hair and eye color. Similar build. Of course, that’s where the similarities ended. Jodi was obviously into adventure.

  Like Riley.

  Which explained why Jodi was his girlfriend.

  “Kandahar was wild this time,” Jodi went on. “Ended up about thirty miles from there and got some great shots of an extraction by some PJs after an IED shit-bath.”

  “Sugar,” Riley corrected, hitching his thumb to Ethan. “Little pitcher, big ears.”

  “Oh, right. The kid.” Jodi said kid in the same tone one might refer to a persistent toenail fungus. “You know me. Not one to watch my language.”

  Or her hands. They were all over Riley again, and that really was Claire’s cue to get the heck out of there. She scooped up Ethan in her arms.

  “Nice to meet you, Jodi.” She nearly choked on the words, but it was a testament to her upbringing that Claire managed to make it sound genuine.

  “Nice to meet you, too, Candy.”

  “Claire,” she corrected, though she figured it wasn’t actually necessary.

  Either Jodi was playing fifth-grade games with her or she was so genuinely disinterested in Claire that she hadn’t bothered to commit to memory anything except the first letter of her name.

  “Enjoy your visit,” Claire said to no one in particular. She turned, and, with Ethan on her hip, she walked away.

  Riley didn’t say a word to her. Not even a goodbye.

  Claire got a really bad feeling in the pit of her stomach. The feeling she’d gotten when she had lost her lunch money or broken something she really liked. Except this feeling was a thousand times worse than that.

  It was the feeling that she’d lost something important.

  And that she was never going to get it back.

  CHAPTER NINE

  RILEY WATCHED CLAIRE walk away. Was it his imagination or were her shoulders slumping? Of course, it could be just the fact she was carrying Ethan so she could lightning-bolt out of there.

  He couldn’t blame her.

  Jodi had done everything except pee on him to mark her territory. Which was strange because Riley hadn’t been aware there was territory to mark. Things had always been so casual with Jodi. Or at least the sex had been. But that clearly wasn’t a casual look she was giving him now.

  “Let’s go inside and catch up,” Jodi said. She snuggled up to him and got him moving toward the back porch.

  She snuggled in just the wrong place against his shoulder, though, and Riley wasn’t able to bite back the groan in time. He didn’t want to show his pain in front of anyone, including Jodi, but for once the pain worked in his favor. Jodi moved off him.

  “Man, you really are hurt,” she said as if it was some kind of revelation.

  “I’m on medical leave,” he reminded her.

  “Yeah, but I didn’t think you’d actually be in pain. I mean, I’ve never seen you in pain before.” She laughed, nudged him. “Well, unless it was painful pleasure.”

  Right. “About that...”

  But Riley didn’t continue until they were inside the kitchen. Considering that the ranch hands had ratted to Logan about his porch-swing nightmares, Riley didn’t want them blabbing about how he’d handled this impromptu visit from a fuck buddy.

  And that’s exactly what Jodi was.

  “I’m not in any shape for painful pleasures,” he finished.

  Jodi looked as if he’d slapped her, and she dropped back a couple of feet. Her gaze lowered to his shoulder and then went back to the window, where Claire was still in sight. She and Ethan were making their way along the back road that led to her house. It would be a half-mile walk for her, and Riley nearly went after her to see if she wanted a ride. She wouldn’t, though, of course. Not after what she’d just endured with Jodi.

  “I see,” Jodi said in that tone that only she and a third-grade teacher could have managed after listening to a student explain why she’d just caught them cheating.

  Of course, Riley hadn’t cheated. Not in body anyway. But for some moments there, he’d wished... Well, it didn’t matter what he wished. The way Claire had hightailed it out of there, she was probably already on the phone, giving Daniel the answer he’d been waiting to hear for more than a decade.

  Jodi cursed. And she didn’t use sugar or any of those other goofy substitutions. “The kid is yours.” It wasn’t a question, either.

  Now Riley cursed. “Why does everyone keep thinking that?”

  “He’s not?” Jodi inched back closer to him.

  “No. I’ve never been with Claire like that.”

  Jodi gave him a bit of the stink eye. “You’re sure? Because the kid looks just like you, Riley. Who is his father?”

  Riley had to shake his head. “Claire won’t say.”

  She coupled the stink eye with a hmm. “He’s probably one of your brothers’ kid then because...”

  Jodi kept on talking, pointing out all the similar features between Ethan and him, but Riley had such a sudden roar in his head that he didn’t exactly hear what she was saying. That’s because he remembered the conversation that Claire had mentioned having. A conversation about sex.

  With Lucky.

  The sonofabitch.

  Logan had enough boundaries and common sense to keep his hands off Claire, and Logan wouldn’t have cheated on his longtime girlfriend. But Lucky wouldn’t know a boundary if it kicked him in the ass. Which was exactly what Riley planned to do.

  “Riley?” Jodi asked. “Are you in pain again? Your face is all red.”

  “Yeah, I’m in pain,” he lied. “If you don’t mind, I think I’ll grab a shower and see if that helps.” And it wasn’t a total l
ie. He’d been handling those horses for hours, and he probably smelled. Plus, the pain would be there the moment he peeled off his shirt.

  “Just help yourself to anything in the fridge,” he offered and headed toward his bedroom. Riley stopped when he spotted her duffel bag by the front door.

  Soon, very soon, he’d need to tell her if she was staying the night, it would have to be in one of the guest rooms. Because sex was out, and he wished he could put all the blame on his injury. But he couldn’t. He just wasn’t in the mood—or in any shape—to tangle with Jodi.

  Riley went to his room, shut the door, and in the same motion he flipped through the numbers on his phone to call Lucky. He didn’t have a clue what his brother’s hours were these days. Didn’t care, either. He stabbed the number as if he’d declared war on it.

  “Yeah?” Lucky greeted when he answered. It was followed by a noisy yawn.

  “Did you touch Claire?” Riley snapped.

  “Excuse me?” Another yawn.

  “Did you touch her?” Though it came out a little garbled with his jaw and teeth clenched.

  A third yawn. Then a groan. “I’m sure I did at some point over the past thirty years. Are you talking about a good touch or a bad one?”

  That was Lucky’s usual brand of smart-assed humor, and Riley was so not in the mood for it. “I’m talking about you not keeping your dick zipped up. Is Claire’s son yours?”

  “What? No!” No yawn or groan that time. His response was really loud, and it appeared to wake up someone who was with Lucky because Riley heard a woman’s voice. “No, I’m not talking to you, honey. Just my idiot brother. Why would you think something like that?”

  It took Riley a moment to realize that Lucky’s question was for him and that it wasn’t part of the conversation Lucky was having with his current bedmate.

  “Because Ethan looks like us,” Riley growled.

  More groaning. “According to the woman I’m with right now, so do a whole bunch of actors.”

  “Hot actors,” his bedmate supplied.