The Baby and the Cowboy SEAL (Cowboy SEALs 2)

by Laura Marie Altom

  She gulped, then coughed, then tried saving face by downing half her tea. “Any, as in...”

  “S-E-X,” he whispered. “I’m spelling it in case little ears are listening.”

  “Yeah, pretty sure Henry doesn’t know what that means.” But she did! And judging by the swift hum between her legs, her body felt it had been way too long since she’d last fooled around.

  “Well?” He crossed his arms, fixing her with a direct stare as if fully expecting an answer.

  “Obviously—” she ducked to avoid having him see the raging inferno playing out on her cheeks “—my last time was with my husband.”

  “He probably wasn’t as good as me.”

  She choked on her latest sip of tea. “Wiley! Stop.”

  “Oh, I’m just getting started, little lady. This afternoon, you called me a chicken, but tonight, I’m going to show you...” He leaned toward her, but seemed confused when he couldn’t quite bridge the last three feet. “Whoa...”

  “I think you should rev those engines of yours right onto my sofa and sleep it off. Your meds are making you say things that, come morning, you’ll regret.” She stood to clear the table.

  “The only thing I regret is not coming back to the mountain early enough to save you from Evil Rex.” When she reached for his plate, he pulled her onto his lap, holding her tight while she struggled to remember how to breathe. She desperately wanted anything he had to give her, but not like this.

  He should be sober, and in full command of his faculties, and—

  He cut off her thoughts by coming closer, closer, and then, just when she feared dying from anticipation, he finally, finally pressed his lips to hers.

  She closed her eyes and sighed.

  Was this really happening?

  Was he increasing his pressure and slipping her his tongue? And was she all-in, kissing him right here at her grandparents’ kitchen table, right in front of her son?

  Thinking of Henry had Macy pulling away, and scrambling to her feet.

  “Come back...” Wiley’s sexy-slow grin made her almost wish for a second she wasn’t a mom, so she could focus on being a woman.

  “I can’t. I—I have things to do.” Things like clearing the table and bathing her son and putting him to bed, when what she’d rather be doing was taking unfair advantage of her clearly inebriated guest.

  “Noooo,” he whined. “Wouldn’t you rather do me?”

  “That’s it...” She helped him to his feet. Additional touching did little to help maintain her resolve, especially when he accidentally grazed her ultrasensitive breasts. “How about you wait for me on the sofa?”

  “Sounds like a plan.” He winked.

  When she’d assisted him into the living room, she next made quick work of getting him stretched out with his head propped on a couple throw pillows. She removed his boots, then covered him with one of her grandmother’s afghans. But that wasn’t enough to warm his entire body, so she had to take the one off the back of her grandfather’s recliner, too.

  “Wait,” Wiley said when she returned to the kitchen to get Henry for his bath. “Aren’t you joining me?”

  “Absolutely,” she lied. “Stay there, and I’ll be back with a surprise.”

  “Oooooh...” His brown eyes widened. “I like surprises. I’ll be right here.”

  Macy bathed Henry, read him a story and tucked him in for the night. She cleared the table and washed their few dishes and slipped the leftovers into the fridge.

  And all the while, Wiley remained on the sofa—snoring.

  She sat in Clem’s recliner to take it all in. So much had happened, yet really, nothing at all.

  If she closed her eyes, she could still feel the tickle of Wiley’s whiskers against her chin. The searing heat of his body against hers. She wanted to cherish that moment and keep it tucked inside her heart, but what was the point? Wiley hadn’t kissed her out of any overwhelming, undeniable sense of attraction, but because he’d been high on pain meds.

  Hadn’t she spent enough time with a man who didn’t want her? She could spin all the fantasies she wanted of her and Wiley becoming an official couple, but she wasn’t willing to settle for less than real love.

  “You’re back...”

  Macy looked up to find Wiley staring. A faint smile curved his lips at the corners. He needed a shave and his hair needed cutting, yet somehow he still managed to be just as handsome as the teen she’d crushed on so many years ago.

  “I figured you’d gone to bed.”

  “I’m on my way.” She rested her clammy palms atop her thighs.

  “About earlier—sorry. I didn’t mean to manhandle you. Kissing seemed like a great idea at the time, but the last thing I want is to give you the wrong impression.”

  What did that mean? Did he regret kissing her? His apology was so unexpected, all she could do was stare.

  “You’re my friend, you know? And right about now, I don’t have many.”

  She cleared her throat. “You probably have more than you know if you’d just let them in.”

  “Moot point, considering at the moment, all I want is you.”

  “You mean in a platonic way? As in, you want for us to keep being friends?” What if I want more? What if I think you’re denying your attraction to me? The true depth of your feelings?

  “Yeah, Mace...” He rose onto his elbow. “I do want us to always be friends. What you did for me in getting me to stop drinking and start taking the pills my doctor prescribed was life changing. With that medicine, I’m going to get back in shape and get everything on both of our places returned to perfect working order. I’ve got big plans—for you, too, if you’re amenable.”

  She leaned forward, wishing her pulse would slow. “I’m listening.”

  “Hear me out—I know this is going to sound crazy, but—”

  Her heart pounded, unsure where he was heading.

  “What if I got a few more horses, and started a trail riding business? You could do the cooking for old-fashioned chuck wagon dinners. Tourists would literally eat that up.”

  “Wait—what?”

  “Today’s hike gave me a lot of time to think. This mountain is beautiful, but tough to see on foot. You know ever since I got food poisoning my junior year at the field day picnic that I’ve hated picnics of any kind, but today turned out to be fun. I just thought the two of us could turn that into a nice sum of extra cash.”

  “No.”

  “But wait, you haven’t heard—”

  “I don’t want to go into business with you. I deserve more.”

  His pinched expression read puzzled. “Okay... What do you want?”

  She forced a deep breath. “Marry me.”

  “W-what?” He suffered a coughing spell. “Mace, that’s crazy. And considering some of the nutty stuff I spew while I’m on my meds, I should know. I’m the last guy in the world you should want to be with.”

  “Think about it.” She knelt alongside the couch to hold out her hands to him. “On our own, we’re each a mess. But together...” Cheeks flushed, though common sense told her to shut up, her mouth kept right on justifying her proposal that had been just plain silly on every level except for deep in her lonely heart. “I know you don’t love me, and I don’t love you— Well, I always have, but it’s been a warm and fuzzy love. You were one of my best friends. But what if that friendship grew into more? I’m lonely, and you need help getting back on your feet. If you wanted to start a business, we could do that. Most of all, I just want to be with you. Look how much we’ve accomplished in a couple days. Imagine what we could do given a shared lifetime?”

  “Mace...” He refused to meet her gaze, but squeezed her hands. “Think about what you’re saying. You don’t really want to marry me after two good days. It’s been years
since we were together. You don’t even know me, and I sure don’t know you.”

  “Bull.” She was already in this deep. Why not dive all the way under? “I can’t remember a time when you weren’t in my life. Even when you were overseas, I prayed for your safety every night.” She reached for the Bible that she kept on the coffee table, and removed the worn photo she’d kept inside. It was of Wiley, looking more handsome than any man had a right to in his Navy dress whites. “Look, I even had this to remind me of our connection.”

  “Buster gave this to you? Why?” Hands trembling, he took the image from her.

  “Honestly? I think you know that answer as well as I do. He wanted me to bring you home.” Her voice cracked. “I hate what you went through to get back to this mountain, but now that you’re here, I can’t fathom letting you go.”

  “You don’t mean that. Hooking up with me will bring you nothing but pain.”

  “You’re wrong.” She swallowed the knot in her throat. This wasn’t like her to beg, but she so badly wanted her second chance at love that desperation clung to her like a stubborn vine. With all her heart, she believed Wiley was her official second chance. Henry’s second chance to have a real father. “At least promise you’ll think about it?”

  “No.” Steely determination hardened his jaw.

  “Why not?” He tried escaping her, but apparently her hold was too strong—both figuratively and literally. If he’d just surrender, he’d see. Her belief in their fairy tale was strong enough to carry both of them into their shared future.

  He didn’t answer.

  “I asked you a question...” She leaned in close enough to kiss him, confident that he was infinitely more sober than their last go-round. His warm breath teased her lips. She wanted him so bad, the longing had become a physical ache.

  Low in her belly, attraction balled into a wicked, wanton thing. Her every womanly instinct told her he wanted this, too.

  “I know this pouty look...” He cupped his hand to her cheek, sweeping her jawline with his thumb. Erotic tingles made it impossible to think. “You used it on your grandparents every time you wanted something from a new doll to that palomino. But what you want from me now makes no sense—for either of us. Tell me you understand...”

  She tried looking away, but his stare’s magnetic pull was too strong.

  He moved his thumb to her lower lip, stroking, transferring his heat, his essence into every inch of her lonely body.

  When he bowed his head, angling just so before pressing the sweetest, softest, most mind-numbingly erotic kiss to her lips, her limbs turned weak. “You taste just as good as you did the last time we tried this.”

  She joined him on the sofa, and when he inched her closer, the size of his erection confirmed his attraction.

  Wiley grinned. “Your dad’s not lurking in a closet, is he?”

  “Hope not.” She returned his kiss with one of her own.

  “What are we doing?” he asked, pressing his lips to hers again and again.

  “Only what we should have been doing years ago.” In a bold move, she unbuttoned his fly.

  “Mace, hold up. Let’s think about this. I don’t even have protection.”

  “I don’t care.” She angled him back to the sofa, kissing the whole way with the dog nipping at their feet.

  “Hush,” he said to Blinkie.

  The dog increased his volume.

  Macy gave her cowboy a light shove to the seat cushions. When he was all the way down, she straddled him, wishing she’d changed into a dress for dinner, so there’d now be fewer clothes.

  Blinkie turned frantic, tearing at the sofa skirt with short growls.

  “I’m sorry,” Wiley said after one more kiss, “but this isn’t working. The yapping dog. The setting. Our first time should be special.” He shifted her off of him to cradle his forehead in his hands.

  She sat back, blinking past his rejection’s sting. “So then you’ve thought about it? The two of us...” Her blazing cheeks finished the sentence.

  “Damn right. But in all my raunchy fantasies, there was never a three-legged dog hell-bent on stopping us.”

  Up from the couch, he glared at the now quiet dog. “Thanks again for dinner. Talk to you in the morning?”

  “Sure.” Cross-legged, Macy strove for a casual pose that showed she was cool with all that had transpired, when nothing could be further from the truth. “But you can stay—if you want.”

  “Thanks, but it’s probably best I head home.”

  “I meant it,” she blurted.

  “That you want to marry me?” He froze. A myriad of emotions played across his features. There was physical pain in his drawn mouth and maybe anger in his narrowed gaze. Was it her he was upset with? Or the cards he’d been dealt?

  Regardless, it might be summer, but sanity crashed into her with an avalanche’s icy rush. What was she doing? Asking Wiley to marry her had been stupid. He wasn’t the second chance she so desperately craved, but a full-on disaster. “Look, when I suggested we marry, I don’t know what I was thinking. At the time, it seemed like a great idea, but—”

  “But now, you wish you’d never asked, and I’d just go?”

  She winced. “Yes. You were right. It was a horrible idea—for too many reasons to count.” But if that were true, why did her heart feel as if it were breaking?

  Because truth hurts.

  She thought about what had happened—first Wiley’s behavior was erratic from too much drinking, then he took meds and tonight, had an even crazier spell when he’d kissed her. Once and for all, for her sake, for Henry’s, Macy needed to banish Wiley from her system.

  They would always be friends, but never anything more.

  Chapter Twelve

  “Thanks for bringing this guy some company,” Wiley said to Doc Carthage. Despite the day’s drizzle, Wiley’s goat and three new lady friends made themselves at home in the front yard. Lulu stood at the pasture gate, checking out the latest action. Wiley was glad for the distraction as it had been a week since Macy proposed, then reneged, and aside from basic pleasantries, she hadn’t talked to him since.

  “No problem.” The vet raised the tailgate on his truck. “Just keep an eye on our pal Charlie, over there.” He nodded toward the fence separating Wiley’s property from Macy’s. Charlie and his angels stood in a row, watching the proceedings. “He might take on a protector role with the goats.”

  “Is that safe? Charlie’s a big boy.”

  “Should be beneficial unless Charlie decides to get frisky with one of your nannies. He might take a liking to Lulu, too.”

  “I just got all the fences in good shape, so hopefully, that won’t be a problem.”

  “Good to know.” Doc Carthage rounded the side of his truck to climb behind the wheel. “I see the cat up on your porch, but where’s Blinkie?”

  “Macy’s son got such a kick out of the little guy that she kept him.”

  “Well, that didn’t go as planned.”

  “How so?” Wiley leaned on the truck’s hood.

  “I thought Macy would get one look at you with that heartbreaker of a dog and rescue the both of you. Never thought she’d keep the mutt and dump you.”

  “We were hardly an item.”

  “That won’t stop an old man from trying. That girl’s carried a torch for you since she was old enough to chase you, so what’s the problem?”

  I’m an ass.

  “Two healthy kids like yourselves should be well on your way to making magic happen.” He winked. “Fourth of July is right around the corner. Why not invite her to the town picnic? My wife’s on the planning committee and there’s gonna be plenty of good food and music—fireworks at the high school football stadium once the sun goes down.”

  “Sounds nice, but I�
�m not really a picnic kind of guy.”

  “That’s a bunch of bullarky. See you there.”

  With Doc Carthage gone, Wiley worked in the garden until he could no longer stand the pain, and then he took more pills and sat on the porch with the cat until the medicine kicked in. He’d abandoned any set dosage schedule. It made more sense to take it as needed.

  As his prescription was running low, he’d started drinking again at night—just to conserve the meds that made it possible for him to live a mostly normal life during the day.

  Since he’d worked up a tolerance, he no longer experienced the mega-highs he’d had when first starting the drug. He did his physical therapy exercises as directed, and had even set up a simple strength-building routine he followed each morning in the barn after feeding Pancake her breakfast.

  He’d even thought about saddling Lulu, but she still hadn’t gained enough weight that he felt right about riding her. Soon, though.

  Things were, for once, going good.

  So why wasn’t it enough? Why couldn’t he get that last night with Macy from his mind? Their first kiss had been everything he’d thought it would be in a hundred different daydreams, but that didn’t give him the right to screw up her life—which he’d surely do if they took things much further.

  As for her marriage proposal?

  He still didn’t get it. What did she see in him? Because from where he was standing, he didn’t find himself to be all that great a catch.

  So why was his stomach knotted with regret? Why did he crave not only her cooking, but more kisses and the mere pleasure of watching her or little Henry smile?

  Trying to put her out of his mind, Wiley called in his prescription to be refilled, then drove into town. He would have liked to grab a coffee, but didn’t care to risk tangling with Macy’s friend.

  He made a quick liquor store run, then sat in the pharmacy’s drive-through, only to learn the window was broken, and he’d have to park and go in.

  He darted around an elderly woman who was stocking up on patriotic paper plates and napkins only to run into the last people he wanted to see—Macy’s mom, Macy and Henry.