He finally managed to choke out, “Dara?”
“Hi, Matt.” She smiled. “It’s been a while.”
Chapter Two
Dara wasn’t surprised that Matt looked good. She just hadn’t been prepared for how good. Sure, he’d long ago morphed from a gangly kid into a guy who could’ve modeled his way through college, but he wore his thirties better than he had any right to. And she’d been in Los Angeles for the past ten years—she’d seen her share of attractive men.
She shook herself. Was she really ogling Matt? Of course she was. She’d never even entertained the idea of being more than friends with him, but right now, checking him out was easier than watching his expression, because she wasn’t entirely sure how this was going to play out. If he’d talk to her, or if he was a breath away from a “get the fuck out of here”. And if he talked to her, she had some news—and a question—that might yet bring out that “get the fuck out of here”.
Beside her, Beth cleared her throat. “I’ll, um, let you two catch up.” Gesturing at the horse, she added, “Do you want me to put her away for you?”
He glanced at the dapple gray as if he’d forgotten the horse was there at all. “Um… I…”
“I’ll try not to keep you too long,” Dara said. “There’s something I need to talk to you about. And I figured it would be best to do it in person.”
His eyes widened a little further. “Oh. Um.” He glanced at his horse. “I should really—”
“I’ve got her. Go.” Beth gestured at other end of the barn. “You’re welcome to use my office.”
Matt hesitated. “Sure. Thanks.” He took a step toward Dara, but paused. To his sister, he said, “I think we need to bring Whiskey and Lady in. They both look like they’re going to foal any minute.”
Beth nodded. “I’ll take care of them too. Go.”
“What about—”
“Go.”
Matt glanced at the horse, then nodded and gestured for Dara to come with him.
As they walked, she checked out their surroundings. The barn was bigger now—the loft was new, and Dara could’ve sworn the aisle hadn’t been quite that long before. There definitely hadn’t been quite so many stalls. For that matter, the aisle had been packed dirt before, and it was smooth concrete now, and lined with gleaming metal-edged white cedar doors. No bars on the doors, of course—neither Matt nor Beth would’ve allowed that.
This place had changed so much, and yet in a lot of ways, it still felt the same. Just being here screwed with her balance. She’d been back in Aspen Mill for two weeks, staying with her parents in her childhood home until she’d moved into a rental house across town, but it was this place that took her breath away. Coming back to the Coolidge farm was, more than anyplace else she’d been recently, like coming home. It was like she’d never left, and at the same time, like she’d been away for far too long.
Which may have had less to do with the building and more to do with the man walking silently beside her.
It shouldn’t have felt this surreal to walk next to Matt. They’d been friends since they were little kids. And it wouldn’t have felt this surreal if ten years hadn’t passed since they’d last seen each other, and that wouldn’t have happened if she hadn’t been a goddamned idiot back then.
But she had been, and she couldn’t change it. All she could do now was hope to God he wasn’t just being polite.
At the end of the barn, he stopped in front of a door marked Private. He pulled a set of keys from his pocket and unlocked the door, then gestured for her to go inside.
Wasn’t this place a blast from the past? She’d been in here plenty of times as a kid, and like the rest of the barn, it was both radically different and exactly the same.
Two walls were covered from floor to ceiling by awards. The trophy case she remembered—a small china cabinet with a modest collection of local trophies—had been replaced by a much bigger one, and it was exploding with silver cups and platters, as well as glass and acrylic awards.
The desk was the same, though the ratty chairs had been replaced with much nicer ones. Behind the desk, there was a huge photo on the wall that had been there for years. It was a little faded now, with some dust on the glass and the frame, but it had aged well. It must’ve been taken when Matt was four or five. Definitely no older than six. He and his two siblings sat in a row on the back of their grandfather’s prized stallion, all gap-toothed grins and bowl-cut hair on top of that elegant coal-black horse.
Behind them, Matt shut the door with a quiet click. Dara steeled herself, her heart pounding and her palms sweating—she’d been dreading this conversation ever since she came back to Aspen Mill, and now there was no escaping. Willing her stomach to stay where it belonged, she faced him.
Matt took off his baseball cap, revealing some silver at his temples. He was a little young to be going that gray, but wow.
Staring at her, he swallowed. “I still can’t… Is that…is that really you?”
She smiled, trying like hell not to get her hopes up. “In the flesh.”
“Holy shit.” He stepped closer, threw his arms around her and hugged her tight. “I can’t believe how long it’s been.”
Her eyes stung, but she forced the emotions back. He didn’t need to see her fall apart quite yet. “It’s been way too long.”
“Yeah. It has.” He let her go, and when he met her eyes, his were unreadable. Even if he was happy to see her, his guard was up. Not that she blamed him.
“So, um.” She cleared her throat, loosely folding her arms to keep from fidgeting too much. “When did you come back to Aspen Mill?”
“Last year. I retired early.”
“Really?” She smiled despite her nerves. “I didn’t think you’d ever slow down.”
“I didn’t either. But I, uh, didn’t really have much choice. Another year or two in that place probably would’ve killed me. Literally.”
She blinked. “That bad?”
He nodded. “One of my business partners had a heart attack, and I was pretty much asking to be next.” With a shrug, he added, “So I decided it was time to get out.”
“Wow. So, what are you doing these days, then?” She gestured toward the rest of the barn. “Besides riding, I mean?”
“That’s about it, to be honest. And helping Beth around the farm.” He shrugged again. “I needed some time off, I guess. More than I thought I did, apparently.”
“Is it helping? I mean, are you doing—”
“Dara, what’s going on?” He studied her. “I haven’t seen you in ten years, and suddenly we need to talk?” His voice was gentle, with no trace of hostility. “I’m pretty sure you didn’t stop by to discuss my health.”
She gulped. “Okay. Yeah. There is something. I…” …severely underestimated how hard it would be to talk to you about this. “It’s…” She couldn’t stand still, and she couldn’t look him in the eye anymore, so she started pacing across the well-worn, dusty red rug that had been there since the dawn of time.
After a long, uncomfortable silence, he asked, “Is everything okay?”
Not really, no.
“There’s…” She stopped, her back to him. She was trying to start in the wrong place. There was no way she could have this conversation with him until they’d had a different conversation first. Without facing him, she said, “I think we need to clear the air first.”
“Okay.”
She gnawed her lip, and her stomach lurched as she finally turned around. “I’m sorry. I know that doesn’t change a damned thing, but—”
“Me too. It shouldn’t have gone on that long.” He shifted his weight, staring down at the rug beneath her feet. “I’m sorry I never called.”
“Yeah. Me too.”
Their eyes met. She was right—it didn’t change a damned thing. She’d still missed ten years of his lif
e, and he’d still missed ten years of hers. But maybe it did change something. Though it would take more than a couple of apologies to completely mend fences, the fact that he hadn’t gone off on her meant there was hope.
Or maybe it meant he didn’t care anymore.
Matt tilted his head slightly and came closer. “What’s this about? What’s going on?” His voice was laced with nothing but concern, his brow pinching as he spoke.
And she suddenly realized what he was probably bracing himself for.
“I’m not sick again,” she said. “The cancer never came back, thank God.”
“Good. Good.” He exhaled, though the tension in his shoulders remained. “I’ve, um, worried about that a lot over the years.”
The admission made the guilt twist even harder in her stomach. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be.” He took another step, and it had never been this hard to be this close to him. “For the record, I know things didn’t go so well back then, but it really is good to see you.”
Dara swallowed, forcing her emotions to stay in check. “It’s good to see you too. I’ve missed you.”
“I’ve missed you too.” His eyebrows lifted a bit. Can we please get to the point of why you’re suddenly here?
She could only imagine what scenarios he was playing out in his mind while she spun her wheels. What cards he was expecting her to show. At least one was probably in the vicinity of the truth, though he wasn’t going to like how it was being played.
“Do you, um, remember…” She cleared her throat. “Do you remember when you helped me out when I was sick? When you donated so I could, um…”
His features tightened. “So you could freeze some embryos?”
“Yeah.”
Matt nodded slowly, eyebrows raised as if to add, Go on.
Dara chewed her lip. “Long story short, I’m pregnant.”
Matt held her gaze and then smiled, though his eyes didn’t quite echo it. “That’s great. Congratulations.” Twin creases formed between his eyebrows, and he studied her as if he could see the apprehension in her eyes. This is good, right? What am I missing?
“It’s…” She sighed. She’d had it all scripted and rehearsed for days, and now that was all gone. Mind racing, she folded her arms beneath her breasts and started pacing again just to get rid of some nervous energy. She’d been lucky—sort of—and her morning sickness really had been just in the mornings, but this afternoon was threatening to change that.
“Dara? Is something wrong?”
Oh, just a few things.
She pinched the bridge of her nose. “It’s such a long, messed-up story.” She dropped her hand and faced him. “I’m not even sure where to start.”
He leaned against the desk. “It’s me. Just say whatever it is, and I’ll let you know if any details need filling in.” That was true. They’d always been able to talk about anything. But even then, this might’ve pushed that limit.
She took a deep breath. “I found out I was pregnant a month ago. Three days before that…” Her chest tightened. She forced back the queasy feeling.
“What?” His tone was soft, the way it always was back then, when he’d figured out she was upset and gently dragged it out of her. There was movement beside her, and then his hand materialized on her shoulder. “Dara? What’s going on?”
She swallowed hard. “Three days before that, my husband walked out.”
His fingers twitched. “Oh my God.”
“Yeah.” She sniffed and couldn’t look at him. “We started trying with the frozen embryos two years ago, and everything was fine between us. Then last year, he got laid off and ended up taking a position that paid significantly less. About the same time, my consulting business took off, and I started making a lot more than he’d been earning before. And that bothered him. Suddenly he decided that me carrying a baby that was biologically someone else’s was more than he could take.” She clenched her teeth as she added, “I was emasculating him, I guess.”
“So he left you? While you guys were trying for a baby?”
Dara looked up at him. “Apparently two years and four failed attempts gave him enough time to realize he preferred a woman with less money and more viable eggs than me. And as it happened, there was just such a pretty little lady who wouldn’t insult his masculinity working behind the front desk at the in vitro clinic.”
Matt’s eyes widened. Then narrowed. His lips pulled back across his teeth. “That son of a bitch. I will—”
“Don’t.” She touched his arm. “It’s done. It’s over.” She shook her head. “He’s already filed for divorce, and our attorneys are on it. Quite honestly, I’m just ready to move on.”
He held her gaze and slowly released his breath. “So, what happens now?” His eyebrow rose. “With the baby?”
“Well, he’s signed away any rights he has.”
Matt’s eyebrows climbed higher. “I’m assuming that’s why we’re having this conversation.” Suspicion laced his tone, and though it stung, she didn’t blame him.
“It is, but let me make it clear right now—I don’t want money. I have plenty of my own. This has nothing to do with money.”
The tension in his posture didn’t change.
She pushed her shoulders back. “I got pregnant with the understanding that I was bringing this baby into a two-parent home. Obviously that’s not the case now. But I do want a father in the picture. And since the baby is biologically yours, I…” She couldn’t look him in the eye anymore, so she dropped her gaze. “I wanted to give you that opportunity first. You don’t have to answer right now. And I totally understand if you need time to explain the situation to your wife, and—”
“Uh, no.” He waved a hand and shook his head. “I’m…not married.”
“You’re not? Oh.” She supposed that made sense—if he’d spent the last ten years working himself into the ground, his marriage probably hadn’t survived. Assuming he’d even gotten married. Had he ever been married? She glanced at him, and a lump rose in her throat. She tamped it down. Just hormones. Totally not the sudden realization of just how long it had been since she’d seen him, and how much of each other’s lives they’d missed.
And now she was asking him to be a dad to the baby he’d already fathered.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “This probably all sounds insane.”
“It’s, um, a little unexpected.” He cleared his throat. “I mean, I knew you’d eventually have kids who were biologically mine, but…”
“I know. I know. And I never saw myself in a situation where we’d need to have this conversation. You already did so much for me just by donating, and I feel terrible asking you for more.”
“Dara.” He finally cracked a smile that lit up his eyes too. He held her shoulders gently. “You don’t even have to ask. I donated for you back then for the same reason I’ll gladly be there now—you’re my friend. I care about you.”
Her throat ached and her eyes stung. “But after all the shit we—”
“Don’t.” He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her to him again. “It’s in the past. We shouldn’t have let it drag on as long as we did, but you’re here now.”
She wanted to believe it was really that simple, and that they would pick up where they left off and pull off this friendly co-parenting thing. But ten years was a long time, and they didn’t even know each other anymore. Throwing a baby into the mix wasn’t going to simplify anything.
Still, he hadn’t told her to get the fuck out of there. It was a start. Given how things had been going in her life lately, she’d take it.
“If you don’t want to tell your family,” she said softly, “I’ll understand.”
As he released her, Matt scowled. “I think my mom will be thrilled, to be honest. She’s been after me for grandkids for years. My sister too.”
&nbs
p; Dara smirked. “You think she’s desperate enough that she’ll overlook the fact that you’re having one with me?”
He grimaced. “Well…”
“Beggars can’t be choosers, right?”
A laugh burst out of him. “True.” He chewed his lip. “We’ll just have to break the news to her carefully.”
“I’ll follow your lead. I haven’t even told my family yet.”
“Really?”
“Are you kidding?” She rolled her eyes. “My mom is still scandalized by the fact that I’m getting divorced again. A baby on the way might make her blow a gasket.”
“Especially a baby Coolidge.”
“Oh God.” Dara covered her mouth as her lunch threatened to come up. “She’s going to be pissed.”
“You never told her, did you? About the embryos?”
Dropping her hand, she shook her head. “I couldn’t. She’d have been furious that I spent that much money on it, and if she knew I’d put off my treatments so I could do that…” Dara grimaced.
“Moms are weird.”
She couldn’t help laughing at that. “Our moms especially.”
He put a hand on her shoulder. “Promise me you won’t turn into either of our moms.”
“Oh. Matt.” She eyed him. “If I do, you have my permission to call in a priest, because it means I’ve been possessed by demons.”
Matt laughed. “Duly noted.” He patted her shoulder, then withdrew his hand.
“So.” She muffled a cough. “What do we do now?”
He chewed his lip for a moment. “When are you due?”
“November. I’m nine weeks along right now.”
“Shit. All this has happened in nine weeks?”
“Seven, actually.” She sighed. “For whatever reason, they start counting two weeks before the actual conception, so…” She waved a hand. “Anyway. Yeah. It’s all happened really, really fast.”
The Virgin Cowboy Billionaire's Secret Baby Page 2
