The Virgin Cowboy Billionaire's Secret Baby

by Lauren Gallagher

  Sorry, boys. She’s with me tonight.

  Afterward, Dara helped load the horses into the trailer, and then she followed while Matt drove the rig back to the farm.

  As they got out of their respective vehicles, Beth asked, “You guys coming to Hanson’s Place tonight?”

  On most nights, that offer of an escape was all he needed to relax, and he’d be fine with going out to the bar and staying until they were both ready to go.

  Not tonight.

  “Actually, I think I’m gonna skip it tonight.” To Dara, he said, “You’re more than welcome to—”

  “No, I think I’m done too.”

  Their eyes locked. His heart sped up.

  He turned to Beth. “If you want to go to Hanson’s Place, Dara and I can probably handle this.”

  “You sure?”

  “I think I owe you one after I bailed on roping tonight.”

  “Fair enough.” She smiled. “Thanks, guys.”

  Beth helped them unload the horses from the trailer, and then she took off while Matt took Brandy back to her stall and Dara took Beth’s horse down to his. They fed the horses and topped off all the water buckets. Matt checked on the babies—one was sound asleep beside his door, and the other was checking out her mother’s food.

  The saddles could be unloaded and the trailer could be unhitched in the morning. The horses were taken care of. There was nothing left that had to be done tonight.

  “Looks like that’s everything,” Matt said. “Thanks for your help.”

  “Don’t mention it.” She hooked her thumbs in the pockets of her jeans. “Still seems kind of early to call it a night.”

  “Yeah. It does.”

  “You sure you don’t want to go Hanson’s Place tonight?”

  Matt swallowed. “Do you?”

  “Depends on the alternative.”

  He held her gaze. She held his.

  Then he pushed her up against the stall door and kissed her. Immediately, Dara’s hands were on his chest, grabbing handfuls of his shirt and holding him against her, and her kiss was even more demanding and hungry than it had been on her couch the other night.

  By the time they came up for air, they were both out of breath, and his rock-hard cock was pressed against her.

  He touched his forehead to hers. “I’ve been thinking about doing that all night.”

  “Have you?” She licked her lips. “I don’t suppose you’re thinking about doing it again.”

  He cradled the back of her head and kissed her, but she didn’t let it last long this time.

  “We need to get home,” she panted. “I want—”

  “Fuck that. Office.”

  She blinked. “You’re serious.”

  “Absolutely.”

  “Let’s go.”

  They hurried down the aisle, and at the office, he fumbled with his keys, but finally found the right one. As the door opened, he didn’t even bother glancing up and down the aisle in case someone had walked in—this late at night, no one else would be anywhere near the farm, and at that point, he didn’t care if they were.

  They’d barely closed the door before she hauled him into another kiss. They stumbled across the thick rug, and they almost went down before he found the edge of the desk with his hip. He turned her around and pushed her up against it. Something tipped over. Something clattered onto the floor. They didn’t stop.

  Matt pulled her head back and kissed her throat, her soft moans raising goose bumps beneath his shirt.

  “I could barely concentrate out there,” he panted against her neck. “All I could think—”

  “Matt.”

  “Hmm?”

  “Shut up and fuck me.”

  “Get those jeans off, then.”

  Belt buckles jingled. Boots came off. Between them, they got her jeans and panties over her hips. Then, as Matt was unzipping his own jeans, she turned around and bent over the desk.

  Matt’s heart was going a million miles an hour—they hadn’t tried this position before. How did he… What if he…

  And then he was inside her. And he was moving. And his mind went blank.

  Standing behind her like this, he had even more leverage than before, and he used it. This was so unlike anything they’d done before. They were dressed. They were on their feet.

  He could barely breathe. It wasn’t just from exertion either—Dara’s pussy was insanely tight, and her helpless whimpers and the sight of her bent over the desk and taking his cock was unbelievable.

  “Harder,” she pleaded. “Oh God, Matt. Fuck…fuck me hard—oh, yeah.”

  Harder? Oh hell yes. He held her hips and slammed into her.

  Something else on the desk fell. The legs squeaked on the concrete floor. She moaned, driving him on, and he knew damn well he was too turned on to last long, so he didn’t try. He surrendered completely, letting her tight pussy and her helpless whimpers send him as far out of his mind as he could go.

  Without even thinking about it, he grabbed a handful of her hair, jerked her head back, and pressed his teeth into her shoulder. Instantly, she clenched around him, and the cry she released was barely more than a strangled sob, and just like that, Matt was coming. Despite being pinned between him and the desk, she managed to somehow move her hips, and his orgasm just kept going and going and going, until he damn near collapsed over her.

  Hands and knees shaking, he managed to pull out, but he didn’t let her go yet.

  She put a hand over his on her hip. “That was not how I expected the evening to turn out.”

  “Me neither.” He kissed the side of her neck. “Not complaining, though.”

  “No, definitely not complaining.”

  “Haven’t…haven’t made you come yet.”

  She grinned. “Then maybe we should pick all this shit up and go somewhere where there’s a bed.”

  “Your place or mine?”

  “Yours is closer.”

  He kissed beneath her ear. “My place, it is.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  By the time Monday rolled around, and Dara had to get back to work, every inch of her body ached. Between her hormones and her long-neglected libido, and his newly awakened hunger for sex, they were lucky they could walk.

  Sitting at her desk, her body reminding her of every time—and every way—they’d fucked over the weekend, she couldn’t help grinning. There were certainly worse ways to de-stress in the middle of a divorce.

  Her workload was slowly coming back down to a manageable level. Most of her clients had been beyond patient over the last couple of months, and one by one, she was finishing up the jobs. By next month, she’d be caught up, which both her mind and her bank account would appreciate.

  Around ten, a crew her landlord had hired came by to take care of a few things—cleaning the gutters, cutting the grass, things like that. She took a break to talk to them briefly, then went back to wrapping up an analysis of a client’s inventory report.

  Her good mood faltered a bit when Mom’s car appeared in the driveway. Damn. She’d promised to have lunch with her mother today, hadn’t she? Taking a long lunch was fine. She just wasn’t sure if she wanted to deal with the questions and commentary about her life today.

  But, she’d promised…

  On her way out the door, she let the guys know she’d be gone for a little while, that they could call her cell phone if they needed anything.

  “I think we’ve got it all under control, ma’am.” The man smiled. “We should be done soon.”

  “Great. Thanks!” She headed down the porch steps. “Hey, Mom.”

  “Hello, sweetheart. Um, who are they?”

  “They work for my landlord.”

  “And you’re going to leave with them still here?”

  Dara shrugged. “The house is
locked up. And besides, they’re taking care of everything I don’t have time to do right now.”

  Mom scowled. “This is why you need Jon, honey.”

  Dara stopped at the end of the walk and glared at her mom. “Why? So he can fix the gutters and cut the grass in between cheating on me?”

  Exasperated sigh, right on cue.

  Dara released one of her own. “I don’t need anyone’s help. I can do these things just fine myself, and if I can’t do it, I can pay someone.” She gestured at the workmen. “The only reason they’re doing this now is my landlord offered, and—”

  “And in a few months, you won’t be able to do those things.”

  “But after the baby is here, I will.” She opened her car door. “Where do you want to go for lunch?”

  “Oh, anywhere’s fine.” The vaguely passive-aggressive tone made Dara’s teeth clench, but she refused to let it show as they climbed into her car. They rode in silence for a little while, but she didn’t expect it to last long.

  As they were heading down Main Street toward a diner they frequented, Mom spoke. “Honey, I know you hit a rough patch with Jon, but your baby needs a father.”

  Dara bit her tongue. When she was sure she wouldn’t let fly with something that would make their lunch conversation unbearable, she calmly said, “We didn’t hit a rough patch. He cheated on me, and he left me. He filed for divorce and made it clear he didn’t want any rights or responsibilities toward this child.”

  “But he didn’t—”

  “Mom. Please.” Dara put up her hand. “It’s done. I told you before—we’re not discussing this any further. Jon made his decision. You’re going to have to learn to live with it just like I have.”

  “What about—”

  “Can we let this drop?”

  “No, I really don’t think we can. I’m concerned about who’s going to take care of you and my grandchild.”

  “The answer to both of those is me.”

  Though Dara’s gaze was fixed on the road in front of her, she could feel her mother’s disapproving stare.

  “It’s easy to say all that now,” Mom said. “But a baby is a lot of work, sweetheart.”

  “So is a marriage,” Dara snapped. “If Jon won’t put the work into that, then I don’t need him for this either.”

  Her mother sighed. It set Dara’s teeth on edge, but at the same time, it was a relief. It was that exasperated “I give up” sigh, and while it annoyed her, it meant the conversation was over. For now, anyway.

  Hopefully, when the baby arrived, Dara’s mom would be so enamored with her first grandchild that she’d forget all about the divorce and the absent father.

  In the meantime, though, this was going to be a long six months.

  In her OB’s waiting room the next day, Dara thumbed through news articles on her phone. Beside her, Matt read a weathered old magazine, probably oblivious that she could barely sit still.

  It was bad enough she had to pee like a racehorse.

  So help me, if Dr. Walton is running late today, I will give him an internal ultrasound…

  But she’d asked Matt to come along, and maybe she hadn’t thought that through, because now that they were here, every time the waiting room door opened, her butt clenched. This was a small town, and the odds of someone they knew walking in were not comforting. Just what they needed—someone texting someone else with Just saw Dara Marley with Matt Coolidge at the OB’s office!

  Imagining the looks on people’s faces while that gossip spread almost made Dara giggle, but she stifled it. Partly so nobody would look at her like she’d lost her mind, and partly because she really, really, really had to pee. And the fish tank bubbling on the other side of the room wasn’t helping. At least this office didn’t have one of those Zen fountains like the reproductive clinic back in LA had had. That would’ve been torture. Though it also would’ve been a handy thing to pick up and dump over the head of that receptionist who’d—

  Well, no. That wasn’t fair. She’d dump it over Jon’s head. The receptionist hadn’t been the one breaking vows.

  On the other hand, there had to be some ethical issue with getting involved with dudes accompanying their wives for fertility treatment, and that woman knew Jon was her husband.

  Oh well. Water under the bridge.

  Water.

  Damn it.

  She squirmed, cursing under her breath.

  Matt turned to her, eyebrows up.

  “I’m fine,” she said. “Just…”

  “Nervous?”

  Sure, let’s go with that.

  She nodded.

  He started to speak, but a nurse stepped out from the back and called out, “Ms. Marley?”

  And here we go.

  Dara followed the nurse into the back with Matt on her heels. The nurse went through the usual routine—vitals, questions about how she’d been since her last visit—and then she took them to the back room where the ultrasound machine was set up.

  “Go ahead and put this on.” She put a folded gown on the table. “The tech will be in shortly.”

  “Thanks.”

  After the nurse had left, Matt asked, “Do you want me to step out?”

  Dara gestured dismissively. “You’ve seen me naked. Changing into a hospital gown isn’t much of a stretch. Though the ultrasound probably won’t be the most dignified thing you’ve ever witnessed.”

  He shrugged. “I’ve seen you do karaoke.”

  She glared at him. “Likewise, my friend.”

  “Pretty sure you were worse at it than me.”

  “Mmhmm.” She nodded past him. “Pretty sure you’ll change your tune if I threaten to use one of those on you.”

  He turned around, and she knew the instant he saw the ultrasound probes, because he tensed. He faced her again, eyes wide. “Okay, why do they keep dildos in here?”

  “That’s what they use to do the ultrasound.”

  “That’s—” He glanced at them again. “I thought they used…” He gestured at the larger external probes.

  “They do. But not for a few more weeks. Those go on the outside.” She nodded toward the weird-looking ones again. “And those are internal.”

  “Explains why they’re shaped like dildos.”

  “Could be worse.” Dara pulled off her shirt. Once she had the gown on, she got up on the table, groaning as the motion angered her bladder. “I guess I shouldn’t complain about this part. It’s going to suck a lot harder in a couple of months.”

  “How often do you have to do this?”

  “Often enough that I’m going to use it as a parental guilt trip for years.”

  Matt laughed. He pulled up a chair beside her, and a moment later, the tech came in.

  Dara had had a few of these before at the reproductive center, so she’d been through the routine. At least the tech went reasonably slowly at first, and actually made liberal use of that tube of KY that some ultrasound techs seemed to think was optional.

  This time, though, Dara’s heart sped up. Not from the intrusiveness, which was only mildly uncomfortable, but from the reality of what they were doing. What the ultrasound was going to show. The backside of the monitor suddenly intimidated her—what was on the screen that she couldn’t see?

  Matt took her hand. While she wasn’t freaked out over the procedure itself, the results suddenly made her nervous. Was everything okay? Was the baby growing and developing the way he was supposed to? What if…

  No. No what ifs.

  She just squeezed Matt’s hand, grateful for the offer of comfort.

  The tech moved the probe around. Dara grimaced, glaring up at the ceiling.

  Matt squeezed her hand. “You okay?”

  “Yeah.” She winced. “Just having some flashbacks to one of my ex-boyfriends.”

  The p
robe stopped for a second, and she was pretty sure she sensed the tech glancing up at her. After that, the movement was a little gentler, but definitely not something she’d be asking Matt to do later.

  She smothered a giggle.

  “What?” Matt asked.

  “Nothing.” She shook her head. “Just trying to keep my mind off having to pee.”

  “This won’t take too much longer,” the tech said. “I’ll wrap this as quickly as—”

  The abrupt pause sent Dara’s heart into her throat. It didn’t help when the tech leaned forward, eyeing the screen.

  “Is something wrong?” Dara asked.

  “No, no. At this stage, sometimes it takes a minute to find—ah, there you are!” She smiled and turned the monitor around.

  And there he was. Or she—wasn’t like they could tell quite yet. There wasn’t much to see.

  But the truth slowly began to sink in.

  Four pregnancy tests, weeks on end of puking the morning away, and a whole drawer full of bras that she didn’t think would ever fit again—none of that made this as real as that strange little blob on the screen did. Even though there wasn’t much beyond grainy black and white blobs, this was the very beginning of what would eventually be her baby. Their baby.

  Matt’s thumb ran along the back of hers.

  She glanced at him. He was transfixed by the image on the screen. Eyes wide, lips apart, he leaned forward as if he needed a closer look. His eyebrows were up and pulled together, his face the very picture of panic and disbelief, even when their eyes met and he smiled back at her. Thank God—she wasn’t the only one scared shitless. At least he wasn’t a flight risk. Not if the death grip he had on her hand was any indication.

  Neither of them spoke. She had no idea what was going through his mind, but the image certainly had his attention as well as hers.

  “Do you want some printouts?” the tech asked.

  “Yes, please,” Dara said, wondering when her mouth had gone dry. She had a feeling she’d be staring at those pictures for quite a while later on.