There were twenty stalls in Toby’s stables, but only eleven of them were occupied at the moment. Clay was here to see one of Toby’s treasures—a beautiful chestnut mare called Rain.
“I brought her in from the south pasture this morning. Thought you’d want to take a close look at her before sealing the deal.”
“You thought right,” Clay said and stopped alongside Toby at the stall’s half door. Inside the enclosure, the beautiful horse stood idly nosing at the fresh straw on the floor. When Toby clucked his tongue, the mare looked up, then moved to greet him.
“She’s a beauty,” Clay said, reaching out to stroke the flat of his hand along the horse’s neck.
The mare actually seemed to preen under the attention. Clay laughed. “Yeah, you know you’re something special, don’t you?”
“She does.” Toby watched Clay feed the mare an apple he’d brought along just for that reason. “She’s two years old, good health—Scarlett did a full physical on her last week.”
“Scarlett’s word’s good enough for me,” Clay said, stroking the horse’s nose. “Yeah, you still want to sell her, I want her.”
“Deal,” Toby said and gave the mare one longing look. Raising horses also meant you had to sell them, too. You couldn’t keep them all. But every time he sold a horse, he felt the loss like a physical pang. Still, he knew Clay would be good to her, and Toby would get a chance to see her once in a while.
“We’ll go up to the house, have a beer and take care of business.”
“Sounds good,” Clay said. Then he slanted Toby a look. “I hear you and Naomi are getting married.”
Getting married. The words didn’t send a clawing sense of dread and panic ripping through him. After Sasha walked out on him, Toby had pulled back from anything even remotely resembling a relationship. Now here he was, engaged, going to be a father, and it felt...good.
Toby blew out a breath, tipped the brim of his Stetson back a bit and nodded. Here it was. He was going to look into his friend’s eyes and lie to him. But, hell. A lie to protect Naomi didn’t bother him a bit. “When you’ve got a baby coming, it’s time to get married.”
Clay’s eyebrows lifted. “Hadn’t heard the baby part of the rumor. My source is slipping.”
Toby grinned. “Times are sad when you can’t count on the gossip chain to be thorough.”
“Can’t believe how the men in this town are getting caught in the marriage trap.” Clay shook his head as if very sad for all his friends. The man’s smile, though, told Toby he was enjoying all this. “Wes Jackson is a man I thought would never go down that road, and look at him now.”
Toby had been thinking the same thing just a few months ago. Watching Wes reconnect with the woman he loved and discover he had a daughter had hit Toby hard at the time. Back then he’d felt the same way Clay did now, that somehow Wes had set himself up for pain. Funny how your ideas could change so dramatically in just a few months. Of course, he reminded himself, he wasn’t in love with Naomi. This was a bargain between friends. Which was why it would work.
“He’s happy.” Toby braced both feet wide apart, folding his arms across his chest. Just because he wasn’t looking for love didn’t mean he couldn’t recognize it when he saw it. “Hell, he practically glows when he’s around Belle. And as for his daughter, Caro, he’s become such a whiz at sign language he’s talking about teaching it to a few of us so we can talk secretly to each other in the TCC board meetings.”
Sunlight speared through the open stable doors, pouring spears of gold into the shadowy interior. The building smelled of horses and hay—one of Toby’s favorite scents.
Nodding thoughtfully, Clay said, “Not a bad plan there. But not the point of what I was saying. It’s this whole wedding plague that’s sweeping through Royal. It’s picking the men off one by one.”
“A plague?” Toby laughed.
“It sure as hell seems contagious,” Clay said. Ticking them off on his fingers, he continued. “There’s Deacon and Hutch and Tom Knox.”
“Tom doesn’t count,” Toby interrupted. “He and Emily were already married.”
“Yeah, but they were separated, now they’re not,” Clay pointed out. “Then there’s Shane and now you.”
Toby laughed shortly and shook his head. “I’m not sick—so not contagious, no worries there. I’m not caught in a trap, either, man. I’m marrying my best friend.” And as he said it, Toby again felt the rightness of it. There was no risk in this marriage. No worry about falling for a woman and having her walk out, taking half his heart with her.
He’d already done that. Already lived through betrayal and having his heart smashed under the boot of a woman who decided some loser wannabe country singer was a better bet than a Texas inventor/cowboy. When Sasha walked out, she’d burned him badly enough that Toby hadn’t wanted anything to do with women. But Naomi had been there with him, through all of it.
He didn’t give a damn about Sasha anymore and figured he’d made a lucky escape in spite of the pain and fury he’d survived. And Naomi had helped him get clear of all that. So marrying her was not just a perfect solution to the current problem—it was also a way to stand by Naomi. To thank her for being there for him when he needed it most. This marriage meant he got his best friend living with him. He got a child to raise and love, and he didn’t have to worry about whether or not he could trust his wife.
“Yeah, well,” Clay said wryly, “she’s your best friend now. That’ll stop when she’s your wife.”
A flicker of doubt sputtered into life inside him, but Toby squashed it flat. “Not Naomi. I trust her.”
“Your funeral,” Clay said with a shrug.
“You talk a hard game,” Toby retorted with a half laugh. “But then there’s Sophie.”
Sophie Prescott. Clay’s secretary.
The other man shrugged, stuffed his hands into his pockets and said, “What about her?”
“Oh, man, don’t try to look innocent. You can’t pull it off.” Toby laughed. “I’ve seen the way you look at her.”
“Looking’s one thing. Marrying’s another,” Clay allowed with a grin. “The rest of you may get picked off one by one, but you can bank on me being the last single man standing.”
“Yeah,” Toby said, heading for the house, waiting for Clay to follow, “that’s what we all say. But you know what? You’re going back to a cold, empty ranch, while I’ll be here with Naomi.”
He smiled to himself as he realized he was looking forward to having her here. To her being a part of his everyday life. Of watching that baby inside her grow. With Naomi, he could have the life he wanted with none of the dangers or risks. What man wouldn’t want that?
Five
“So,” Simone asked as she set an empty box down on Naomi’s bed, “how excited is Toby to be a father?”
Simone had her nearly blue-black hair pulled back into a thick tail that hung down between her shoulder blades. The woman’s amazing ice-blue eyes shone with a kind of happiness Naomi was glad to see there. Simone had the kind of face that made most people think she was gorgeous but empty-headed. It didn’t take her long to prove just how brilliant she really was.
“He says he’s really happy about it.” Which was true, but not the whole truth. A flicker of unease rippled through her as Naomi realized that to keep her bargain with Toby, keep her baby safe, she’d have to lie to her closest friends.
It wasn’t that she didn’t trust Simone and Cecelia both. They’d been friends forever, and heaven knew the three of them had shared so many secrets, there really wasn’t much they didn’t know about each other. But she had to think about her baby, too. The baby who would grow up knowing Toby as its father. Was it fair to her child to let other people in on the fact that Gio Fabiani had been her sperm donor? And that was really all he had been, she assured herself.
He wasn’t a father in any sense of the word, so did he really deserve to even be mentioned? Now that she’d actually spoken to him and knew without a doubt that he’d never have anything to do with the baby, wasn’t it better for everyone to just forget about his involvement completely?
“I can’t believe you managed to keep your pregnancy a secret. From us,” Simone added. “I mean, you’re nearly five months, right?”
“It’s because she never eats,” Cecelia put in, playfully sticking her tongue out at Naomi. She was any man’s dream woman, Naomi thought. Gray-green eyes, long wavy platinum hair, a curvy figure and long legs. She was also driven, ambitious and funny. “She’s pregnant and still skinnier than I am.”
Skinny. That had been Naomi’s goal for most of her life. Now her body would be doing as much changing as her life, and she found she wasn’t too concerned about it. Maybe it was having Toby standing with her. Maybe it was finally accepting and being proud of the fact that she was going to be a mother. Whatever the reason, though, Naomi thought it was about time she stopped worrying so much about the scale. She had more to think of than herself now, right? Hadn’t Toby said just the other day that the baby needed more than a lettuce leaf to grow on?
“Naomi?” Cecelia asked. “You okay?”
“What? Yeah. Sorry. I’m fine. I’m just—” She paused, looked around at the chaos strewn around the bedroom of her condo and realized it was the perfect metaphor for her life. “Overwhelmed.”
“Easy to understand,” Simone said, folding another sweater and laying it in a box. “It’s not every day you get slammed in a viral video, get engaged and announce a pregnancy.”
“God,” Naomi whispered. “It sounds even crazier when you say it out loud.”
“Yes, but you’re handling it,” Cecelia said, pushing her hair back and kicking back onto the bed to get comfy. She crossed her feet at the ankle, grabbed a pillow and held it against her belly. “Simone and I have had our share of crazy lately, too, remember?”
“Absolutely,” Simone muttered and pushed Cecelia’s feet out of the way to reach for a stack of folded T-shirts. “Honestly, I didn’t know what was going to happen with Deacon, but now look at us.”
Cecelia tossed Simone more shirts while Naomi zipped her cosmetics case closed.
“Heck, look at all of us,” Cecelia said with a wide smile. “The mean girls are done, and we’re all in love.”
Naomi sighed a little.
“Plus,” Cecelia added, “we’re all pregnant at the same time. Our kids can grow up friends.”
“I’m more pregnant,” Simone pointed out. “There’s three in here.” She patted her slightly rounded tummy. “Remember?”
Cecelia laughed. “You always were a show-off.”
Naomi smiled, too, because it was so easy to be with these women. They’d been a trio for so long she couldn’t even imagine her life without them in it. She had great friends. Cecelia, Simone—and Toby.
Bottom line, worries and all, it came down to the fact that she was marrying her best friend. How bad could it be?
“Is it time for a break?” Cecelia asked from the bed. “Come on, let’s let the new fiancé finish this up when he gets here.”
“Cec,” Simone said, “if you’d pack as much as you talk, we’d be finished by now.”
“Talking’s more fun,” Cecelia said, but she dutifully pushed herself off the bed, walked to the closet and dragged Naomi’s garment bag down off the high shelf. “Fine. I’ll get as much of her stuff into this thing as I can. But there’s no way we’ll get all your clothes in one trip, Naomi.”
“I know.” Her condo was small, but the closets were huge. It was really what had sold her on the place. “You know what?” she said, making up her mind on the spot. “Cec, do what you can with that bag. Simone, when we fill up this box, we’re stopping. That’s it. I’ve got enough to live on, and it’s not like I’m moving to the moon. Toby and I can come back to get the rest another time.”
“Deal. I feel ice cream coming on,” Cecelia said from the depths of the closet.
Simone sighed. “Ice cream. I love ice cream. And I’m going to be much bigger than you guys will be, so I shouldn’t have any. But I’m weak.”
“You’re safe, then,” Naomi told her with a shrug. “I don’t have ice cream in the house.” In fact, she didn’t have anything fattening in the condo. She’d never seen the point in testing her own willpower.
“Oh, that’s just wrong.” Cecelia came out of the closet, laid the garment bag on the bed, then picked up her purse. “I’m going up to the store for ice cream and maybe cookies. I’ll be back in fifteen minutes.”
When she was gone, Simone said, “Thank goodness for Cec. I really do want ice cream now.”
Naomi laughed. “I guess we do have to have some priorities, huh?”
“Ice cream is top of the list,” Simone said. Then she hooked one arm around Naomi’s shoulders. “I know what you’re thinking. Everything’s changing.”
“Yeah,” Naomi agreed, wrapping one arm around her friend’s waist, “that’s it exactly.”
“I was feeling the same way just a few weeks ago, but then I remembered the most important thing.”
“What’s that?” Naomi asked.
“Change can be good, too.”
“You’re right,” Naomi said and looked around the room again.
This condo had been perfect for her once. When she was single, with nothing more to think about than the career she was trying to forge. But the condo wasn’t who she was anymore.
It was time to figure out who she was becoming.
* * *
“We can’t sleep in the same bed.”
Later that night, Naomi was at Paradise Ranch, staring up at Toby in stunned surprise. Sure, they had a no-sex agreement, but look at him.
He took a breath and blew it out again in obvious exasperation. “Naomi, you know I’ve got a housekeeper. If Rebecca sees we’re not staying in the same room, how long do you figure it’ll be before the rest of Royal knows it?”
“But—” She looked at the gigantic bed against the far wall of Toby’s bedroom and shook her head. Sure, it was big enough for four or five people, but was it big enough for the two of them?
The room was cavernous, just right for the master of the house. There was a black granite fireplace tall enough for Naomi to stand up in, with two chairs and a table sitting in front of the now cold hearth. Along one wall were bookcases stuffed with hard-and soft-backed books, family pictures, and framed patents Toby had received for his many inventions. Across from the bed, a gigantic flat-screen TV hung on the wall, and French doors on the far wall led out to a wide wooden balcony that overlooked the fields behind the house and the really spectacular pool.
But her gaze kept sliding back to that bed. A massive four-poster, with heavy head-and footboards, the mattress was covered in a dark red quilt that looked as if it had been hand stitched. Toby’s mother, Joyce, was a quilting fiend, so she was probably behind that. And there was a small mountain of pillows propped against that headboard, practically begging a person to climb up and sink in.
The whole room was inviting, and Naomi had to at least partially blame herself for that, since she’d helped him decorate the house. But she’d never imagined herself sleeping in the master bedroom.
“I thought I’d be staying in one of the guest rooms,” she argued. “You’ve got seven bedrooms in this place.”
“Yeah.” He scrubbed one hand across the beard stubble on his jaw. “But married people sleep together. That’s what folks expect.”
He had a point, and why hadn’t she considered it before? She hadn’t counted on this at all. How was she supposed to share a bed with her best friend?
“Okay, look,” he said, clearly reading what she was thinking. “We’ll try t
his. You can sleep in the room next to mine, but all your stuff stays here, in my room. That should throw Rebecca off the scent. Especially if we keep that guest room looking like nobody’s been in it.”
“Okay. I can do that.” This was crazy and getting worse by the minute. Enforced closeness was going to push their friendship places it had never been before, and it really worried her that the relationship might just snap from all the tension.
Reaching out for him, she laid one hand on his forearm and waited until his gaze shifted to hers. “You have to promise me, Toby. You have to swear that no matter what else happens between us, we stay friends.”
“That’s not even a question, Naomi.” He pulled her in close for a hard hug, and Naomi surprised herself by leaning into him, relishing the feel of his strength wrapping itself around her. So much was changing so quickly that he was her stable point in the universe, and if she lost him, Naomi didn’t think she could take it.
“We’re gonna do fine, Naomi. Don’t worry.” His hands moved up and down her back, and tiny whips of heat sneaked beneath her defenses. Startled by that simmering burn, she stepped away from him, told herself that she was just tired. Distracted. Vulnerable. But that heat was still there, and Naomi knew she needed some distance.
And she didn’t think the guest room was going to be far enough away.
* * *
Naomi hadn’t been awake at 6:00 a.m. in...ever. And couldn’t understand why she was now.
An avowed town girl, Naomi had always believed the only reason to be up with the sun was that your house was on fire. Yet now she was going to be a rancher’s wife. She was in the country, where the quiet was so profound it was almost alive. There were no cars roaring down the street, no neighbors with a too-loud stereo. Here the night was really dark and there were more stars in the sky than she’d ever known existed.
She hadn’t slept well, either. Lying there in the dark, listening to the quiet, knowing Toby was just on the other side of the wall, had kept her too on edge to do more than doze on and off. So this morning, it was too early, she was too sleepy and felt too off balance. Clutching the single measly cup of coffee she allowed herself each day she stepped out onto the back porch, where the soft, morning breeze slid past her.
A Texas-Sized Secret Page 7
