The Cowboy’s Pregnant Sweetheart (McCall Ranch Brothers Book 3)

by Leslie North

  While he’d kissed a few girls after leaving Karen behind and splitting town, he’d never experienced a kiss quite like this. Even as a couple, very much in love, he had never before felt such intensity when they came together, like traveling somewhere new and exotic, to a place he’d always wanted to go. At the same time, it felt to him like coming home.

  “Hold on,” he said reluctantly, pulling back though everything in him was screaming to do the exact opposite. “Are you sure about this? Are you—?”

  “Hey, McCall?” she said with a sweet grin, panting a little as she surveyed the obvious effect she was having on him with poorly concealed satisfaction. “Do you want to know what I’m sure about?”

  “I don’t know,” he said truthfully, leaning in for another taste. “Do I?”

  “Mmm-hmm,” she said, mischief dancing in her eyes. “I just want to feel your hands on me.”

  As luck would have it, those were the perfect words to dissolve any lingering misgivings he might have. She wasn’t some helpless girl he needed to protect, now far less than when they were eighteen. To be truthful, he simply wasn’t strong enough to walk away from her again.

  Maybe tomorrow would be another story—he’d be able to think clearly, know that muddying the waters was a dangerous idea when his plans were already set. He was leaving Winding Creek as soon as he was able. At the moment, though, all he knew was that he wanted her, maybe more than he had ever wanted anything in his life.

  He reached for her greedily, she moved in at the same time—and they bumped foreheads like two unfortunate buffoons in a romantic comedy. She sat back on her heels with a perfect oh of surprise on her face.

  Meanwhile, he groaned, slapping his forehead with the heel of his hand. “God, Karen, I’m so sorry,” he moaned. “I swear, I’m usually a whole lot smoother than this.”

  “Oh, no, Carson,” she laughed, taking his hands in hers and pulling them down to his sides before climbing confidently into his lap. “You can’t convince me of that. I was with you before you turned into a big star. I know exactly how smooth you can be.”

  For reasons he didn’t think he would ever completely comprehend, Karen’s words had the dual effect of making him throw out his concerns while at the same time driving him completely crazy with wanting her. He pulled his gloves off and laid them to the side, then reached for her again. This time, his hands found her with no problem, sliding up underneath the layers protecting her from the chill, making her gasp.

  “Cold,” she said with a breathless little laugh, her hands winding their way into his hair as she leaned forward to kiss him again. As he started to ask her if he should be doing something different, her tongue slipped inside his mouth. For the time being, talking was out of the question.

  It wasn’t perfect, not like any movie scene he’d watched. They fumbled, maneuvering around various layers of clothing, and when Karen got to Carson’s belt buckle, it took both of them to get it undone.

  She pushed against his chest gently, and he eased himself down on the blanket as she slipped off her jeans. She straddled him, and he found himself unconsciously marveling at seeing her hovering above him. He reached for her face with a sense of wonder, even as she slid one hand down the front of his now-open jeans.

  “What is it?” she asked, her brow furrowing. “Did I hurt you?”

  “No, darlin’,” he grinned, running his hand lightly along her cheek. He shivered again when she shut her eyes and leaned into his touch. Swallowing hard, he added, “I just can’t stop thinking you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”

  She opened her eyes again. A flicker of something there made him wonder how completely she’d forgiven him for walking away. In the next moment, she was kissing him again. He closed his eyes, hearing the continued rustling of clothing, savoring the touch of her hands, and enjoying the sensations his own fingers were sending to his brain as he slipped them over her warm, supple skin. He idly wondered—was the shack less chilly, or was the heat of their bodies warming each other? Blissful seconds later, she was guiding him inside her, and all hope at rational thought was long gone.

  Their shared rhythm started slowly at first, her hips rocking in time with the beating of their hearts, but despite telling himself to watch his pace, Carson quickly realized that this was not going to be his greatest show of self-control.

  Normally, he liked to be the one to dictate how any situation was going to go, including carnal encounters. With his injury, though, and with Karen already on top of him, he had no choice but to let go. Surprisingly, it was quickly making for the most erotically charged experience of his life. As she rocked in his lap, his hands moved greedily, wanting to touch all of her at once. Opening his eyes to take in the sight of her, he silently cursed the cold outside and the remaining fabric between them. All the while, her hips moved, her eyes locked on his and full of delicious fire.

  “You’ve gotta slow down, sugar,” he groaned, the first flickers of heat already beginning to build in his loins. “If you don’t, I’m going to lose control.”

  “Maybe I want you to lose control,” she whispered, breathing heavily. She planted her hands on his chest and let her head rock back on her neck. “Ever think of that? Maybe I want—“

  She stopped mid-sentence, her entire body seizing up. One moment she was shaking all over, and the next she pitched forward, the lilac scent of her hair overwhelming his senses. He knew she was climaxing—could remember a variation of this same reaction from when they were younger, and for him it was the straw that broke the camel’s back. He let go—of his need for control, of the fool notion that he was going to be able to last for an hour if only to impress her. He let his body take over, and seconds later, his hips bucked beneath her as their climax washed over them together.

  They lay entwined, panting little puffs of white smoke, for what could have been forever or five minutes. When Karen sighed softly and rested her head on his chest, Carson enfolded her in his arms, amazed at how easy it was being with her again; like using muscle memory for a beloved but long-abandoned pastime. It was also terrifying, how quickly he could get used to the arrangement, but he’d think about that later. For now, he simply wanted to be with her. He could only hope she felt the same.

  9

  Carson slept better that night than he had in as long as he could remember, certainly since his accident and all the legal trouble that had followed. The good feelings unexpectedly continued after their encounter in the shack; he found himself utterly surprised at his thoughts. The doubts, however, that inevitably began to creep in were no surprise.

  While he was grateful that he had no built-in reason to see Karen anymore, the thought drove him crazy at the same time. He kept coming up with excuses to see her and then immediately talked himself out of them. Never before a man of two minds, he sure was one these days. After rattling around the house on his own with nothing to do outside of his ranch chores but physical therapy and going to town occasionally, except for a rowdy Thanksgiving gathering with all the McCall clan, by the end of November, he needed to talk seriously with another human. If he couldn’t do that, he was going to lose his mind.

  Carson had never had the easiest time talking about things that mattered to him. He decided to invite his brothers over for steak and beer. If the conversation were to steer toward what he was thinking about for his future, so much the better.

  With some wrangling of schedules, they eventually set the date for two days later, an evening when both Trevor and Randy were free of work and family responsibilities.

  When the day came, Carson spent more time in the grocery store than a grown man had any right to do. By the time he got home and started cooking, his leg and hip were aching something fierce.

  “Doesn’t matter, though,” he muttered to himself through gritted teeth and took a swig of beer. “I’ll still get my point across.” A knock sounded at the front door. As he put his beer down and levered himself off the kitchen stool, he heard the doo
r open, and Trevor called a greeting, echoed by Randy’s loud observation that “something sure smells good in here!”

  He took a moment to collect himself before heading toward the front of the house, where he heard the sounds of his brothers divesting their heavy coats and hanging them up. He rolled his ankle as well as he could inside the boot with a grimace. Despite the dull ache there, it was the itching that bothered him the most. He remembered how his mom had consoled him during injuries when he was younger and (maybe) more foolish, finding his way into a cast on more than one occasion. She had liked to say that an itching wound was a healing wound, and the thought had stuck with him over the years.

  “Brother!” Trevor exclaimed, going in for a classic bro handshake that turned into a hug as Carson limped into the living room. “Good to see you, man.”

  “It’s good to see you, too,” Carson said with a grin, pulling free of Trevor so that he and Randy could do the whole song and dance all over again. “Seriously, guys, I’m glad you could get away. Seemed to me like it was high time for us to put in some quality time, you know?”

  “Right there with you,” Randy said, even as his eyes ran over Carson’s body from head to toe, a not-so-subtle examination of Carson’s injury status that for some reason didn’t rankle this time. “Something tells me this isn’t exactly what Mom and Dad had in mind when they put it in the will for all of us to come back here.”

  “Yeah, well, I don’t think they envisioned Randy and me settling down the way we did,” Trevor laughed good-naturedly, cocking his head toward the kitchen. “And now what do you say we move this reunion to the table? I’m like to starve to death if we stand around jawing for much longer.” He rubbed his hands briskly together. “This bone-chilling cold sure makes it easy to work up an appetite!”

  “You got that right,” Carson agreed, although his face grew hot at the mention of being out in the cold, which inevitably sent his mind back to his steamy trip down memory lane with Karen. “No arguments here. Besides, the fridge is where the beer lives.”

  The three brothers sauntered to the kitchen. Carson let Trevor and Randy walk ahead of him so that he could favor his injured leg with a slower pace. He was getting noticeably better every day now, had even stopped using the cane, but he caught himself these days being more careful rather than less. He could practically taste his freedom now. No way was he was going to reinjure himself due to something as stupid as carelessness.

  “I’ve gotta say, man,” Randy said, grabbing three longnecks and distributing them before opening a cabinet to take plates out, setting them on the kitchen island where a platter of steaks waited alongside a bowl of mashed potatoes crowned with melting butter and a couple of deli salads. “You’re finally starting to look like yourself again. You keep going at this rate, in a couple of weeks, people won’t be able to tell you were ever injured at all.”

  “Thanks,” Carson said, easing down onto one of the stools set around the kitchen island and taking a long sip of beer to steady his nerves. He’d asked his brothers here to get a reading on their honest opinions, but now that they were sitting down with him, it didn’t feel quite so easy.

  “What is it, Carson?” Trevor asked as they began to help themselves to the food, cutting straight to the point of the matter and with laser clarity, just as always. “And don’t bother saying ‘nothing’ because there’s clearly something on your mind.”

  “You’ve got me there,” Carson said with a sheepish smile and an ever-so-slightly defensive shrug. “It’s kind of why I asked you guys to come out here.” He looked from one to the other. “I want your opinion on something.”

  “I knew it,” Randy groaned with feigned disappointment, shaking his head as he lifted a forkful of mashed potatoes. “Ulterior motives.”

  “Come on, man,” Carson protested, his voice lighter than he actually felt. “I’m serious. I need to know what you guys think.”

  “All right,” Trevor said, looking at Carson steadily now. He was still smiling, but his now-serious demeanor gave Carson the feeling his eldest brother already had an idea of what he was going to say. “Lay it on us.”

  “Okay,” Carson started by taking a shaky breath. “I was wondering what you guys might think about me heading back out on the road.”

  “Like, back out on the circuit?” Randy asked, eyebrows raised in surprise. “Are you ready for that again so soon?”

  “Not quite,” Carson said, cutting a piece off his steak to cover his discomfort. “But I will be before too long. I’m feeling stronger every day. In fact, I’ve already made an appointment with my doctor, just to make sure I'm not overestimating myself. If he says I’m in the clear, I was thinking I might go ahead and get out of here, head back out on the road.”

  For a moment, Carson’s revelation was met by silence. He had the sinking feeling that all this was a massive mistake. His leaving would affect all the McCalls, not only himself. Maybe he was stepping out of bounds by making the suggestion.

  At the same time, he was starting to suspect that if he remained in Winding Creek much longer, he would never leave. Karen’s unexpected reappearance in his life was a complicating factor. Every time he saw her, he had a harder time saying goodbye. He almost felt as if he wanted his brothers to tell him to stay. While he was craving their blessing before he rode off into the sunset, he was also starting to wonder if the goal he’d been striving after for most of his life was truly what he still wanted for himself.

  The thought was enough to make his head spin. If it wasn’t, then what on earth was he supposed to replace it with?

  “Wow,” Trevor said, putting down knife and fork and bracing his hands on the edge of the island’s marble top. “That’s a lot to wrap my brain around.”

  “I know,” Carson said miserably, hanging his head. Even as an adult, he couldn’t stand the idea of disappointing his brothers. “I’m sorry.”

  “What?” Randy said, punching him playfully in the arm. “Don’t be sorry. We’re happy to hear that you’re doing so much better. It just means we need to rethink things with the ranch.”

  “Which isn’t your fault, by the way,” Trevor put in. “We both got to pick new starts for ourselves. You should get to do the same for yourself.” He took a deep breath, stunning Carson with his next words. “We can sell the land and split the profit three ways.” Randy was nodding slowly.

  Carson had the feeling his brothers had discussed this possibility at length, maybe while he was laid up, maybe waiting to see how well he’d heal. Maybe waiting for him to bring up the topic himself. “But what about Mom and Dad?” he asked miserably, swallowing hard. He felt dangerously close to tears, despite the fact he’d initiated the conversation.

  “Mom and Dad would want us to be happy,” Randy said quietly, looking not so much at Carson as through him. “And if I’m being honest, the will accomplished what they were hoping for. We’re at least as close now as we were when we were kids.” He pursed his lips and nodded thoughtfully before going on, his eyes boring into Carson’s. “I think if they were still here, they would tell us that was all they ever wanted. Other than that, they’d just want us to be happy.”

  Carson didn’t trust himself to speak, but he nodded vigorously and took another swig of his beer to cover his emotions. He was only in this moment becoming aware of how much he’d been dreading this conversation. In truth, his relief his brothers’ affirmation made him feel weak in the knees. He was fairly sure he would never have been able to leave without Trevor and Randy’s blessing.

  All told, Carson thought he would likely leave. It made his heart hurt to think of the ranch no longer being in the McCall family, but at the same time, maybe that was what they all needed. With his share of the profits from selling the ranch, he would walk away with a decent nest egg. Later, he could buy another piece of land when he was ready to settle down. Not this piece of land, obviously, but that could be a good thing. It was entirely possible that the McCall land was meant to become a memory, lik
e the marks on the hallway wall showing how each of them had grown over the years, or the carving of a bull Carson had attempted on one of the inside walls of his closet.

  By the time Trevor and Randy took their leave, going home to the women and babies that tied them to Winding Creek and made it their home, Carson felt wrung out. Tired as he was, he still made a stab at cleaning up the kitchen, or at least making it passable until the morning. When he was nearly finished, looking forward to hitting the pillow, he heard another knock on the door.

  “Come on, Trevor,” he muttered to himself, sure that out of his two brothers, Trevor was the one most likely to forget something and come back. “Some people need their sleep.”

  For some reason, the knock came again. Carson had a few choice words ready as he reached the door and turned the knob, but when he pulled the door open and saw who was waiting for him on the snowy porch, a brief but potent wave of unreality washed over him. By the time he regained his composure, he already felt at a disadvantage.

  “Jeez, Kelly,” he said, opening the door wider in case Karen’s sister wanted to come in. “If this isn’t a blast from the past, I don’t know what is. How the hell are ya?”

  “Worried about my sister,” Kelly answered without missing a beat, her chin lifted defiantly. “Which is obviously the only reason I would come out here in the first place.”

  Although he probably shouldn’t have been, Carson was taken aback by Kelly’s directness. She was older than Karen, and Carson remembered her as shy, bordering on painfully so. Although she looked much the same now as she had then, her former shyness seemed to have evaporated. And, unless he was very much mistaken, she appeared to hate his guts.

  “Whoa,” he said, holding up both hands in surrender. “Hold on. I’m not here to do Karen any damage.”

  “Sure,” Kelly said with a humorless laugh, brushing her gloved hand angrily at a strand of hair that had fallen across her face. “Okay, right. Because you’re Carson McCall, everyone’s best buddy, right?”