Branded as Trouble

by Delores Fossen

  One that wasn’t going to happen.

  “Now, if you don’t mind, I need to borrow Mila for a while,” Roman added to Dylan. He hooked his arm around her waist and got her moving. Not to his truck because the cruiser and a crowd of gawkers were there. He headed up the sidewalk with her. “Don’t worry,” he added to Dylan. “I’ll bring her back so she can finish that margarita.”

  Roman expected Dylan to be pissed, but he shook his head and smiled as if he knew something that Roman didn’t. It was probably because Dylan might think Mila was really in love with him and vice versa, but his cousin would soon figure out the truth when Mila and he didn’t send out any “save the date” cards.

  “Your mother came to visit me,” Roman said to her once they were out of earshot of the others. “She’s pissed at me.” Best not to say why unless Mila asked. He especially didn’t want to have to use phrases like hot to trot and big-assed box of condoms. “Tate’s also pissed at me,” he added.

  “I’m pissed at you.” But she immediately waved that off. “Actually, I’m just mildly inconvenienced. The date wasn’t going that well.” She huffed. “Dylan seemed turned on that I wasn’t a virgin anymore, and that was a turnoff for me.”

  Hell. Now, he wanted to go back and kick Dylan’s butt. “How’d the subject of your virginity, or lack thereof, even come up?” And he hoped it hadn’t involved big-assed condoms.

  She also waved that off. “Tell me about Tate. I think he’s mad at me, too.”

  There had been a lot of confusing things happening in his life, and that comment was one of them. “Why would he be mad at you? He believes I’m the bad guy in this.”

  “I don’t know. Maybe he’s disappointed that I would fall for your charm. Maybe he thinks I’m lying about not having a broken heart.”

  “Well, he did see you crying,” Roman reminded her. Which brought him to one of the main reasons for this visit. “Are you sad about what happened between us? Because your mom didn’t think you were sad enough.”

  Mila stopped, stared at him. “Maybe you should tell me what my mother and you talked about.”

  “Clothes. Your date with Dylan. The condoms you bought. Your lack of moping.”

  He could tell from the way her stare intensified that there was one thing in that laundry list that had especially caught her attention. “Condoms?”

  Best to get walking again so he didn’t have to look at her while he continued. Her stare had turned to a bit of a glare, and the fact she’d folded her arms over her chest wasn’t a good sign.

  “Vita was concerned that I’d...awakened you.” Awakened? Fuck. He never used words like that so he went with something he’d sworn he wouldn’t say to her. “Vita thought you might be hot to trot.”

  Mila didn’t stop this time. In fact, she picked up the pace and yanked her phone from her purse. No doubt to call her mom.

  “That would be a surefire way to get her to put a curse on me,” Roman reminded her. Not that he believed in actual curses, but Vita could make his life a living hell by showing up with daily egg deliveries and chanting outside his office. “Besides, I told her she was probably mistaken, that you hadn’t bought the condoms for you and that you weren’t hotting or trotting.”

  She looked at him again when she put back her phone and took her keys from her purse. That’s when he realized they were in front of her bookstore, and she was unlocking the door.

  “I did buy condoms,” she said. “For me. Well, for guys who want to have sex with me.”

  Shit in a handbasket. Vita was right.

  Roman wasn’t sure if the tightness in his chest was because Vita had hit the nail on the head or if it was because he was feeling as if he’d done a very bad thing by changing Mila.

  “Have you had sex with those guys since I’ve been gone?” Clearly, he should have given that question more thought. Because if he had, he wouldn’t have asked it.

  She dropped her purse and keys on the counter and shut the door. “Have you had sex with women since you’ve been gone?”

  Touché.

  This time, Roman did think before he spoke, and he spoke the truth. “No. In fact, I haven’t even thought about being with another woman.”

  “Is that a record for you?” It wasn’t a joke, either.

  “Possibly,” he admitted. “But I have been thinking about sex a lot.” He paused, thought and rethought, and even though he knew he shouldn’t say it, he did, anyway. “With you.”

  Her mouth quivered a little. Maybe fighting back a smile. “Well, I’ve been thinking a lot about sex, too. With you.”

  She went to her desk, opened the bottom drawer and took out a box of condoms.

  Unopened.

  His mouth quivered a little. Definitely fighting back a smile.

  “But the problem is that rule of yours,” she quickly added. “We’ve had our three times. Anything now would stray into commitment territory.”

  Yeah, it would.

  The moments crawled by with them standing there staring at each other. With a jumbo box of condoms between them.

  “So, I guess we could go about this one of two ways,” Mila went on. “One option would be for you to rethink your rule, maybe make it four times—”

  “Five,” he bargained.

  Mila nodded, and she made a sound of agreement and approval. “Or a second option could be—”

  Roman snapped her to him and kissed her. Hard and long. So that she couldn’t finish that sentence. Because he was certain of two things—that he wanted Mila more than his next breath.

  And he didn’t want any other options.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  OPTIONS SOMETIMES HAPPENED whether you wanted them to or not. For Roman, this was one of those times.

  “Well?” Sophie asked.

  His sister was on the love seat in her office at the ranch. She had one baby, Katelyn, on her lap and was changing the diaper of the other baby, Kyle, while he lay in a bassinet next to her.

  “You’ll want to stand back for this,” she warned Roman.

  The moment Sophie pulled back the wet diaper, Kyle pissed enough to put out a small forest fire. Roman stepped back in the nick of time, and Sophie somehow managed to dodge the stream.

  “Here’s a tip,” Roman said. “When you’re taking off the dirty diaper, lift the front of it just an inch or two and wait a couple of seconds until he finishes doing his business. It’s the cool air that makes him go off like that.”

  She stared at him as if he’d just unveiled the secrets of the universe. Roman shrugged. “Hey, I changed Tate enough times to become an expert.”

  Her mouth quivered a little. Maybe because “diapering expert” didn’t go with his bad-boy image. It didn’t. But he was a bad boy with layers. And he’d enjoyed fatherhood as much as his sister was obviously enjoying being a mother.

  “Now, back to my well,” Sophie said, putting the fresh diaper on Kyle. “I need help at Granger Western, or I’m going to go bat-poop crazy.”

  Yes, she’d mentioned that. She had also mentioned that Garrett could step up to help since he had actually run the company for a decade before Sophie. But for Garrett to do that, he would need help at the ranch.

  And Sophie was looking at Roman to step up and do that.

  “All I’m asking is two months, until it’s time for Tate to go back to school,” she went on. “By then I should have managed to take at least one nap without help and fit back into my work clothes. And it’s not as if you can’t take care of your business from here at the ranch. Plus, you know it would make Tate happy since he’d get to ride every day. It’s not as if you’d have to deal with Mom, either, since she’s wrapped up in Billy Lee and the twins these days.”

  There it all was in a nutshell. All the reasons why he should come back an
d help.

  The only thing Sophie hadn’t mentioned was Mila.

  So, Roman decided to get that out of the way, and it might help for Sophie to have the big picture. If she got it, maybe she could help him understand it, too, since he was having a little trouble wrapping his mind around it.

  “When Waylon was arrested last night at the Longhorn, Mila did say she was in love with me,” Roman confessed. “I said it to her, too, but it’s a game we play.”

  Her eyebrow lifted. “A game that involves a jumbo box of condoms?”

  He gave her a stare that only an older brother could manage. “Not that kind of game. Mila said that so I wouldn’t punch Waylon, and I said it so she’d leave with me. I needed to talk to her.”

  Sophie’s stare made him feel like an idiot in a way that only a sister could manage. “So, you’re not in love with her?”

  Roman huffed. “That’s not the point. The point is we didn’t say it because we meant it. It just diffused a bad situation. I was about to turn Waylon into a greasy spot on the pavement because he’d called her an ugly name.”

  He hadn’t used the actual word because Sophie had been scolding him about cursing in front of the babies. Yes, the very baby who’d just tried to piss on them.

  “I know all about what Waylon did,” Sophie said. “I got three calls and eleven texts before Mila and you were even out of the parking lot. After that, I know you two argued all the way to the bookstore, that you went inside with her and didn’t come out until nearly midnight.”

  Sheez, there were a lot of nosy people with too much time on their hands.

  “I assume your long stay at the bookstore wasn’t because you were browsing the new release section,” she went on. “I’m also assuming you broke that stupid three f-word rule.”

  He had. And he’d reached the max on the new rule amendment, as well.

  “I love Mila,” Sophie said after a sigh. “And I don’t want her hurt.”

  “I don’t want her hurt, either,” he settled for saying. Roman took a deep breath. “Let me talk to Tate about it, and if he says it’s okay, we’ll move back for a couple of months.”

  She smiled. Not a normal smile, either. That was her victory grin. Probably because she thought if she could get him back to Wrangler’s Creek for two months, that he’d stay for good.

  Depending on what Tate said about that, she might be right.

  No way was he going to admit that to Sophie, though.

  Roman kissed Kyle and Katelyn and headed out to the barn where he knew his son would be. He was. Tate was brushing down a horse that he’d just ridden. He spared Roman a glance before he went back to his task.

  It had been this way for a while, since Tate had seen Mila crying. Tate shrugged instead of talking and he glanced instead of looking.

  “Sophie wants us to stay here for the summer,” Roman told him. “Are you okay with that?”

  Tate shrugged.

  In this case, it might be a legit response because Tate was already practically living at the ranch. He’d been talking the housekeeper into bringing him nearly every day, and when she couldn’t, he had called Garrett or Belle to do it. Of course, Tate had ended up staying overnight plenty of times, too.

  “Being here at the ranch will make it easier for you to see Arwen,” Roman went on. “I noticed she was here earlier.”

  Another shrug. “She likes to go horseback riding with me.”

  Actual words. Good words, too. Roman was glad Tate and she were friends. Arwen had just gone through a tough upheaval, but since she was no longer under the same roof with Waylon and Chrissy, she would probably have a better life. Tate could help with that. So would Roman because he’d keep an eye on her as well.

  Since that got that particular topic of conversation out of the way, Roman moved on to the next one. The big one. “I screwed up with Mila,” he said. “And I don’t know how to fix it.”

  Now, Tate looked at him, and it was more than just a glance. Even though Tate didn’t say anything, that look was enough for Roman to keep on talking.

  “You know I had sex with her. She had never been with a man before so I knew it was possible that she would fall for me.” Roman paused. “I just didn’t think I’d be the one falling.”

  Tate dropped the brush and faced him. “You told people you were in love with her.”

  So, Tate had gotten texts about that, too. Roman nodded. Tried to put this in such a way that a thirteen-year-old would understand. “I suck at relationships.”

  “Uh, have you ever had one?” Tate asked.

  Roman frowned and started to say—well, hell, yes—but he rethought that. He hadn’t had a romantic relationship since he was a teenager. “It’s been a while.”

  “So, you don’t know if you suck at them or not.”

  True. But Roman had a feeling that he would. Of course, that feeling might be based on the three-fuck rule that he’d now squashed. Oh, and based on him not wanting to get his heart stomped on again. There was that.

  “It’s hard to get over feelings from the past,” Roman explained. “Hard to get beyond hurt and stuff.”

  Tate nodded, paused. “And you think Mila would hurt you the way Mom did?”

  Now, it was Roman who froze. No. He was absolutely sure that she wouldn’t. Why? Because Mila was Mila.

  And right now at this moment, she might be moving on with her life. Without him.

  “Shit,” Roman mumbled.

  “Can I have my own horse?” Tate asked.

  Roman was still repeating that “shit” to himself, and he looked at Tate to see him shrug. “Seemed like a good time to ask.”

  Even though Roman couldn’t be sure, he thought Tate smiled. That sneaky kind of smile that Sophie did when she’d just gotten her way.

  “You can work for me this summer on the ranch and earn enough money for a horse,” Roman said.

  That still didn’t get rid of the trace of a smile. Probably because Tate had just been given everything he wanted. Well, everything he wanted on this particular day, anyway.

  Roman hugged him, knowing that was something a teenage boy didn’t want his dad to do. Like that trace of a smile, there was a trace of a hug on Tate’s part, causing Roman to break into a full-blown smile of his own.

  Tate wasn’t the only one who’d gotten a lot today.

  Now, Roman needed to see just how much more he could get.

  * * *

  MILA KNEW FOR certain that there were no advantages to being a single woman in Wrangler’s Creek. Especially when nearly every single guy in town wanted to get in her pants. There were four of them in the bookstore. The Busby brothers and one of their friends. All vying for her attention.

  All idiots.

  She suspected their combined IQ wouldn’t be enough to get them to triple digits. She also suspected none of them had read a book—ever. They were plucking them from shelves all willy nilly and bringing them to her to get her “opinion.” Actually, what they wanted to do was stand shoulder-to-shoulder with her and try to peek down her shirt.

  “I don’t have an opinion on zombie apocalypses,” she told the one making his way to her. “Nor The Texas Chainsaw Massacre,” she added to another.

  “How about this one?” the Busby friend held up a copy of Fifty Shades of Grey.

  She ignored him and decided to ignore “the customer is always right” rule, too. “If you boys don’t plan to buy anything, then leave. I have work to do.”

  “Boys?” one of them howled. “We’re men.”

  They couldn’t prove it by her.

  “We are,” one of them argued as if she’d verbally disagreed with them instead of just rolling her eyes.

  Apparently, the eye roll wasn’t a good thing to do because it caused all four of them to come her way
. She wasn’t actually afraid of them since she knew how to kick a guy in the balls, but eight balls would mean a lot of kicking.

  Just as the brainless wonders reached the counter, the door flew open and Roman came in. Now, there were ten balls in the room, and the air was suddenly thick with testosterone.

  The Busby boys and their friend went into the man postures, pulling back their shoulders, lifting their chins, wobbling their heads a little as if trying to seem cocky.

  “Get the fuck out of here,” Roman snarled after taking one look at them. He didn’t wait even a second before he turned to Mila. “I’m in love with you.”

  The first thing Roman said got the boys inching toward the door. The second part got them running. Probably because it sounded like some declaration of war.

  Mila just smiled at Roman and gave him a chaste “welcome home, honey” kiss on the cheek. “Thanks,” she added. “I’ve been trying to get rid of them for a half hour.”

  She started to move away from him, but Roman turned the closed sign around, locked the door. “That’s how you get rid of them.”

  He didn’t stop there. Roman took hold of her, pulled her to him and kissed her. It was definitely not a kiss of the welcome home variety. It was deep, French and was possibly illegal in a couple of states.

  It left her breathless and smiling. “Are we going to amend your rule again?” She slid her hand over the front of his jeans.

  His eyes crossed, but he moved her hand away. “Fuck the rule.”

  She winked at him. “Am I the rule now?”

  Obviously, he wasn’t in as playful a mood as she was. Obviously, not as aroused, either, but that kiss had worked up some heat inside her.

  “You’re the exception,” he said.

  He looked at her. Eye-to-eye. While he still had his arm around her waist. And that’s when it hit her. Her mouth went dry because it had dropped open and stayed that way.

  “You’re in love with me?” she asked, and wished that she hadn’t sounded, well, stunned beyond belief.

  Roman nodded. “I know, I had some trouble wrapping my mind around it, too. Now, here’s the deal—you don’t have to love me back, but you can’t text me any more smiley faces or use the word peachy. Especially peachy when it comes to anything sexual that’s happened between us.”