The Cowboy's Baby: A Small Town Montana Romance (Corbett Billionaires Book 1)

by Imani King

  It eventually became clear that I wasn't angry at Tia – what reason did I have for that? She was pulling away, and that was a pretty normal response to finding out the weird guy you just lost your virginity to has a kid and a crazy woman in his life. No, I was angry at myself. For slipping up and being too stupid to even recognize it was happening until it was too late. Well, almost too late. I was falling for her, it was in process, but it hadn't fully happened yet. Which meant I could still put a stop to it. I could put a stop to a lot of things, including Larissa's wishy-washy bullshit.

  I swallowed another mouthful of cold beer and frowned. What the hell? What kind of fucked-up headspace had I allowed myself to get into? It almost made me laugh. Three years in Montana, a life made up of the soothing patterns and habits of livestock and crops, a life free of the vicissitudes of having to deal with other people, a life I had deliberately and meticulously crafted. Was one girl from Philly really enough to just blow it all out of the water? Maybe – if I didn't come to my senses.

  I was coming to my senses, though, that evening. I grabbed my phone and called Larissa, determined to do something concrete, to mark a boundary between 'Dallas slipping' and 'Dallas correcting his slip.' When she picked up, her voice had that same dumb sing-song tone to it.

  "Daaallas! Hey!"

  "Hey, Larissa."

  She noticed my tone right away. "Is something wrong?"

  "No, nothing's wrong. Everything's right. I'm just calling you to let you know that I want a formal arrangement with you, and I don't want you visiting me again until we have one."

  There was a pause. "What? Wait, Dallas. What do you mean? I thought you said it was OK if I kept bringing Bentley to visit and –"

  "It's not OK. I can't have this kind of uncertainty in my life. I'm a busy man. Here's the deal. You can bring Bentley to visit on two conditions – one, that we arrange set times to do so and two, that you yourself do not stay here. I mentioned the motel in town, you can stay there –"

  "But –"

  "This isn't negotiable, Larissa. If you're unhappy with any of this, we can get lawyers involved. And I promise you I can afford betters lawyers than you can. That's not a threat, it's just how it is. It's up to you how you want to handle this. Think about it and get back to me."

  "Why are you being like this?" she asked, her voice much quieter now.

  "It doesn't matter. I have a life. I'm doing what I have to do to keep that life on an even keel. So think about it and get back to me, but be clear on the fact that I don't want a relationship with you and I don't want you staying at my place again. Bentley can stay, if that's something you're comfortable with, but not you. It has to be this way."

  I hung up before she could respond. When she called me back immediately I turned the phone off. Fuck her. Fuck everyone who was getting in my way. I was done. Back to work. I finished my beer and turned the lights off before heading up to the loft to get into bed.

  The hard-on that had been there since Tia had arrived needed to be dealt with, so I did, refusing the entire time to think of her specifically. Instead I pictured some random bar girl, not even one I'd met but an amalgamation of all the giggling, drunk, thirsty women that had been in and out of my bed like ghosts over the last few years. Afterwards I fell asleep, quickly and without dwelling on anything.

  A week and a half later, legal papers arrived in an envelope with a Washington postmark on it. So how much was that crazy woman going to try and take me for? When I saw the amount, I laughed out loud. It was an number that only a person who didn't understand what being rich actually meant would think was a lot. $2500. Per month. That was it.

  I could have fought it out of spite, but that wouldn't have been in keeping with the interrupted but ongoing plan to keep my life as simple and free of complications as possible. So I headed straight back into the cabin, called the law office back in Texas that always handles my family's legal issues, and instructed them to send back a letter agreeing to $2500 per month.

  Poor Larissa, she didn't have any idea how paltry $2500 was to me. I'd been expecting something closer to $20,000, but she obviously hadn't done as much research as she thought she had on my family. Ken Stone, my lawyer in Texas, advised me to wait for a response from the Washington law office before broaching custody issues, but I basically told him that I either wanted to be in Bentley's life or out of it, that I wasn't going to settle for something in between. I wanted regularly scheduled visits or none, and I didn't want to deal with Larissa or her lawyer myself. We hung up on the understanding that Ken himself would take charge of making – or not making – that deal.

  So that was taken care of. Mostly. Hopefully. It was a good trick I'd learned after my two tours in Iraq – if you don't want to think about troubling or unpleasant things just... don't think about them. It takes a while to get used to it, to be able to do it properly, but once you've learned it becomes surprisingly easy. It wasn't even about some kind of insane, pressurized control freakishness. I allowed myself to feel sad at certain moments, like when I was totally fucking up the ratatouille Tia taught me to make, but I let the feeling pass over me like a cloud overhead on an otherwise sunny day. It was there, I experienced it, and then it was gone. Just like everything else in my life.

  A friend of mine back in high school had gotten briefly into Buddhism and I remembered him talking about that, about how accepting the transient nature of everything was the key to real contentment. Something like that, anyway.

  It's interesting how easy it is to fool yourself. Even for me, spending those hot summer days and nights convinced I, after a temporary loss of control, was right back in the driver's seat. I was wrong. I was so wrong. And I didn't have a clue.

  Eleven

  Tia

  I cried all the way home that night, after telling Dallas Corbett I needed some time to think. I did need some time to think, that was true. But I also needed him. Or that's what it felt like, anyway. When he put his hand on my leg all I wanted to do was melt into him, turn to him, let him wrap his strong arms around me and make love to me until there was nothing left in the world but the two of us.

  That was a nice fantasy. It noticeably did not involve a baby son and some random woman Dallas slept with last summer.

  For a couple of days I waited, going to work and coming back home at night, entirely trusting that sooner or later, he would have something to say. A plan. Maybe an apology – or, if that wasn't going to happen, just something that let me know he understood how difficult it was for me. A statement about his feelings for me. Something. Anything.

  On the third day, when there had been no calls and he hadn't stopped by Parson's, I had my first shift with Amber since seeing him. I'd sort of been avoiding the topic, even in text conversations, waiting for some word from Dallas. When none came, and I knew I was going to be chit-chatting with Amber all day, it had to come out.

  "So, it is his kid, by the way," I said during the first lull in customers.

  Amber whipped around in her seat to look at me. "Holy shit! Really? Dallas Corbett has a baby? That's crazy, Tia!" She caught herself almost at once, shaking her head and frowning. "I'm sorry, that's not what I mean – I'm just shocked, not excited. Dallas Corbett has a baby – OK. That sucks. Damn. So, like, what's the deal? He's not with the mother, is he?"

  I gave her a quick rundown of the situation and her first comment was to ask me what I was going to do.

  "I don't know. He hasn't called or messaged for days – I mean, I did say I wanted some time to think. But yeah, I don't know. Maybe I won't know until he figures out what he's going to do about the baby. I mean, I'm nineteen – and I also just went through something really awful, something I'm probably never really going to get over. Do I want to be getting involved with someone who has a child?"

  "How does he know it's his?"

  It dawned on me that I hadn't asked Dallas that question. Probably because I'd just assumed he knew the baby was his.

  "You know there's rumor
s he comes from money – family money. Maybe she saw a paycheck? I'm not trying to go all conspiracy-theorist here but it's not unheard of."

  I shrugged. "I'm not sure. I just assumed he knew. I'll ask him when I talk to him next."

  A couple more days passed, and there was still nothing in the way of communication from Dallas. I started to miss him. On the fifth day, I called him and got no answer. It didn't seem strange, at first – he was probably out in the fields, tending to the animals. But he hadn't come into Parson's either. When he didn't respond to my call, it triggered something in me, something that felt compulsive and unpleasant. I was very close to calling him again, but I forced myself not to. The last thing I wanted was to put myself in a position where I was pestering a man who just days before had been saying and doing things that made me feel like he was genuinely into me.

  More than a week later, Amber had a little get-together at her apartment and I showed up looking and feeling morose.

  "Hasn't he called yet?" she asked, offering me a plate of crackers and cheese.

  I shook my head no and Marcy's voice came from the living room. "Are you talking about Dallas? Did he call, Tia?"

  I turned to Amber, annoyed. "I asked you to keep this between us," I whispered, "this was supposed to be between me and you –"

  Madison came bouncing into the foyer, took one look at me and gave me a hug. "He's a jerk, Tia. I'm just sorry you weren't here long enough to learn that before – well, before getting close to him."

  Damnit. Amber had told them. I suppose I shouldn't have been too surprised – I know how it is with close girlfriends – but I still was. When I looked at her again she had a sheepish look on her face.

  "I didn't tell anyone else. I promise. I really didn't. It was just – oh God, I'm so bad at keeping secrets."

  I frowned. "It would have been more useful if you'd told me that before I spilled all of mine to you, then."

  I hate tension. I especially hate tension when it pops up in what was a convivial atmosphere. Marcy and Kayla came wandering in and immediately saw the looks on our faces and for a little while we all just stood there, squirming, until Amber threw her hands in the air and looked at me.

  "OK. OK, Tia. I blabbed. I knew they wouldn't say anything, but I also know that doesn't help. I'm sorry. You were just so cagey and – like I said, I can never keep things in for too long. I'm sorry. Really, I'm sorry."

  "I don't know what I'm supposed to say to that," I replied. "You're sorry? OK. But I asked you not to say anything and you said you wouldn't and now..."

  "I know. I thought I could keep it a secret."

  Kayla put her arm around my shoulder and leaned in. "She's not entirely full of shit, Tia. If you want a secret kept, Amber is not your girl. You haven't known her very long or you would have figured it out like the rest of us did. It's –"

  "Hey!" Amber cut in, angry herself now. "What are you talking about? I can keep a secret!"

  The other three girls chuckled and this just seemed to infuriate Amber even more. She looked around at them, an incredulous expression on her face. "Are you guys being serious? You can't tell me any secrets? What the fuck! How long has it been this way? And why didn't any of you say anything?"

  "Probably since, uh, ninth grade or thereabouts?" Marcy commented. "Remember when you told Dan Telford that Madison had a crush on him? And his girlfriend tried to beat her up after class?"

  "Yeah, and you told my mom we smoked weed that one time, too," Kayla added.

  The dynamic had changed, the focus was no longer on me, it was on Amber. She looked like she was about to cry. "I didn't – I didn't know you guys felt this way," she said, very quietly. "I know I'm not always good at keeping secrets but sometimes they just slip out, I never intended to hurt anyone, it wasn't malicious!"

  Her voice was wobbling and her eyes were welling up. It didn't stop me being annoyed but it did make me feel some sympathy. Kayla patted her back. "Amber, listen. Don't cry, OK? We're not attacking you – we love you! But you – girl, you absolutely suck at keeping secrets and everyone knows it. Now even Tia knows it. We know you weren't trying to be malicious, you just – man, you just can't contain yourself. I don't think you're a bad person."

  Amber looked up at all of us. "You don't?"

  Everyone shook their heads, including me. Sure, I wasn't going to share any more big secrets with her, but it was obvious she was just one of those people who couldn't keep their mouths shut, and not one of the ones who spilled the beans in order to hurt people.

  I stepped forward, grabbed Amber by the shoulders and looked her in the eye. "OK. I get it. You didn't mean to. I believe you. Am I annoyed? Yes. Am I going to get over it? Yes. So please let's just have a good night. And since everyone seems to know everything, I guess I can get advice from all four of you, now."

  The mood lightened as soon as I made it clear I wasn't going to spend the evening being mad at Amber. I was grateful for the support from the other girls, though, especially since I was still the 'newcomer' at that point – they could have ganged up on me and insisted I was being oversensitive but instead they subtly and kindly let it be known to Amber that she had earned herself a bit of a reputation as a blabbermouth. We retired to the living room to eat crackers and cheese and catch up. But what everyone really wanted to hear was what was going on with Dallas.

  "I hate to disappoint you all," I started, seeing four expectant faces around me, "but there's really not much to tell. I gave him a couple of days because I needed some time. Then when he didn't get in touch I called him and left a message. Since then, nothing. He hasn't even come into Parson's. It's definitely starting to feel like he's avoiding me."

  "Damn," Kayla said, knitting her brows. "I wish you'd said something to us before you even got involved with him. The guy is sex on legs, OK? We can all see it. And I'm not saying I'd say no – if he ever showed any interest in me, anyway. But he doesn't have his reputation for nothing. Are you just one of those women who likes shitty men?"

  "No!" I protested. "I'm actually not. He wasn't a jerk to me at all – not after those first few times, anyway. He was super-sweet, really understanding about the situation with my parents, and the accident. Like I really got the feeling he understood. I just feel so crappy right now, like I got duped or tricked or something. He's just totally ignoring me. And after acting like he was so sorry for the mess with Larissa and the baby, too! I'm an idiot."

  My friends made sympathetic noises and passed me the box of cheap chocolates we were sharing.

  "You're not an idiot," Madison said. "You just got a little too attached, too soon. I've done it. Hell, I bet it was easy to do with him. Sometimes when a guy is a dick to everyone it can seem even sweeter when he's nice to you, you know?"

  I nodded. "Yeah, and it's not like I –" I stopped myself in mid-sentence and turned to Amber. "Did you tell them? About the – uh, the – oh screw it. Did you tell them I was a virgin?"

  It appeared that Amber had managed to keep that much to herself, at least, if the looks on the faces of our other three companions were any indication.

  "What?" Kayla asked. "You were a virgin? Did you tell him?"

  "Of course I told him, I was totally embarrassed about it – I didn't want him to think I just sucked in bed. And it's so weird, he was really good about it. Not to get into any gory details but, yeah, he was sweet about it."

  "So he knew? You told him before you did it? And he knows about your parents? And now he's just ignoring you? That makes me want to drive up to his place right now and give him a piece of my mind."

  There were murmurings of agreement from everyone else. That was comforting – just to know I wasn't crazy or making a big deal out of nothing. That knowingly taking my virginity and then ditching me was, as I suspected, a dick move.

  "Screw that guy," Madison piped up. "Seriously, Tia. I know he's easy on the eyes but, jeez, what else is he? So you lost your virginity – no biggie, right? How many of us can say our first time was per
fect? You've got bigger things going on in your life than Dallas Corbett. We've done this before, you know. When my ex dumped me right before graduation these girls stayed with me for hours on end, feeding me ice-cream and listening to me cry. So we can do it with you, too. No more waiting for that jerk to call. In fact you should block him right now."

  I felt a little jolt of anxiety – a point in favor of blocking Dallas if ever there was one. Madison was right. Why should I waste even one more day pining away for that guy to call? He obviously wasn't who I thought he was.

  "Yeah," Marcy agreed, her voice loud and determined. "Block him. And this is coming from a place of experience, Tia, trust me. After that embarrassing incident in the parking lot at the bar – well, let's just say I spent way too long waiting pathetically for that dick to call. He never did, of course. You don't need him."

  I knew they were just trying to help. And I took my own reluctance as a sign they were right. I was too attached. Too inexperienced, too immature, just a silly girl who got in over her head. I pushed any doubts aside, as it's so easy to do when you have friends with you to prop you up, and blocked Dallas on my phone. As soon as it was done I held it up so they could all see the screen and cheer.

  I felt strong. I felt – well, not good, but slightly better. I was going to forget Dallas Corbett. Not right away, but soon.

  The conversation quickly turned to Dallas's baby, and the woman he fathered him with. I told everyone the basics of what I knew, which wasn't much.

  "How does he know it's his?" Marcy asked.

  I laughed. "That's what Amber wanted to know."

  "Well how does he?" Madison chimed in. "If I was a guy and some girl from my past just rolled up one day with a baby and said it was mine, I'd want to be sure, you know?"