The Virgin Cowboy Billionaire's Secret Baby

by Lauren Gallagher

  And every damned time, as soon as he found that escape, someone else appeared.

  This time, after Rachel caught sight of someone she hadn’t seen since high school, and they’d both gratefully parted ways, Matt made it two steps before he was stopped.

  His cousin’s new wife came up to him, grasping the maid of honor’s elbow. “Matt, there you are! Have you met my sister?”

  Here we go.

  “I haven’t.” He switched his drink to his left hand and extended his right. “Matt Coolidge.”

  The maid of honor, a pretty redhead with a cute sprinkling of freckles across her face, shook his hand. “Lisa.”

  “I’ll let you two chat.” The bride flashed them each a grin before she disappeared into the throng of guests.

  Lisa glanced after her sister and then turned to Matt. “So you’re Hal’s cousin?”

  “Yep.” He forced a smile. “Hard to believe he’s grown up enough to be getting married.”

  She giggled. “Sometimes I wonder.”

  Matt laughed. “I guess some people never grow up, do they?”

  “No, definitely not.”

  And with that, they slammed right into an uncomfortable lull.

  Come on, come on—conversation. Words. Say something. Ask something.

  His gaze darted into his nearly empty glass, and then he met hers. “So, do you live in this area?”

  She shook her head. “I’m living in Chicago while I finish my Masters.”

  “Chicago? Really? I just moved back from there last year.”

  “Oh yeah? Whereabouts did you live?”

  They chatted about Chicago, commiserating about the weather and the traffic, and he asked about her Masters program. She was smart, and she was interesting, and once they’d broken the ice, he didn’t stumble quite so much while he talked to her. For the first time all night, he was enjoying a conversation and wasn’t looking for the nearest exit.

  Like many of the other women he’d met tonight, Lisa was gorgeous. But like all the other women, she didn’t spark much in the pit of his stomach—or below his belt. Nothing about her could quite grab on to him and make the rest of the room vanish around them. Even while they talked about things that fascinated both of them, she couldn’t stop his heart with a look.

  Not like Dara could.

  That thought nearly made his heart stop.

  His drink nearly slipped from his hand.

  That was it, wasn’t it? None of the women in this room interested him, and it wasn’t because they were boring or they lacked personality or they were potentially just after his money. They weren’t Dara.

  That was crazy, though. He and Dara were friends. They weren’t even sleeping together anymore. He was just being an idiot, and he banished the thoughts and focused on his conversation with Lisa.

  Eventually, they reached enough of a lull for both of them to bow out and move on. She disappeared into the crowd, and he was alone. Just like he’d been all night, even while she’d been there, because even in a room with two hundred fifty people, one in particular had been missing the whole time.

  Her absence by his side right now was all wrong. It was as if one of the members of the string quartet had walked out while the others kept playing—the music still played, and the people still danced, but something was undeniably missing.

  His collar was starting to get tight again, and his heart thumped in his chest. He needed some air. Badly.

  He took a glass of ice water from a passing waiter and headed for the door. There were a few people outside on the ballroom’s sprawling cobblestone patio, but it was less crowded than inside. Much quieter too.

  He went to the railing overlooking the golf course. There, he took a few deep breaths and then a swallow of water. He sucked an ice cube into his mouth and rolled it around on his tongue, concentrating on the coldness and shutting out the noise from the reception hall.

  Out here, away from the crowd, he could breathe a little better, but that vacant space beside him was even more conspicuous. The silence echoed in his ears where there should have been Dara’s voice. Her wicked laugh, her playful cattiness.

  “You think this dress is low enough to piss off your mom?”

  He heard himself laughing almost two decades ago. “I think she’s already pissed off that we’re going together.”

  “Well, she’d better notice how I dressed. I didn’t wear these fucking stripper heels for my own amusement.”

  He chuckled around the ice cube, gazing out at the darkened golf course. No, his mother hadn’t approved of her dress, or the heels, or her existence, but they hadn’t cared that night. Or any night, for that matter.

  And that had been the one and only time he’d ever danced with a woman. Dancing had never been his thing, and he still wasn’t sure why it had been different at prom, but somehow, it had been.

  “It is prom.” He’d taken her hand. “We probably should dance at least once, right?”

  She’d smiled, letting him lead her out onto the floor. “I thought you’d never ask.”

  One dance turned into three, and before they’d known it, the deejay announced that it was the last song of the night, and Matt had actually been disappointed to see it end. He still couldn’t believe now that it had never crossed his mind to kiss her under those lights, but he was glad he hadn’t. That night was perfect as it was—he wouldn’t have changed a thing.

  Here on the country club’s patio, gazing out into the stillness, he couldn’t help getting a little misty-eyed at the memory. Not just the memory, but how much it emphasized her absence now. Every time a door opened or a pair of high-heeled shoes click-tapped across the cobbles, he expected a hand on his shoulder, and every time that hand didn’t come, his chest tightened a little more. He wanted her to be here. Not so she could be subjected to Coolidge glares and whispers behind hands, but because he missed her. Being here without her tonight felt about as natural as if he’d gone to their prom alone—that was one memory that simply didn’t exist without her smile, her playful wit.

  And in the back of his mind, he saw her there under the disco lights. It was the first time he’d ever seen her in makeup besides a horse show, and her hair had been pulled up so only a few strands tumbled onto her bare shoulders. He hadn’t noticed back then how perfectly that strapless green dress had fit her, but he’d loved how her farmer’s tan had made the whole look…Dara. Elegant with a dash of tomboy. He couldn’t imagine spending that evening with anyone but her, and standing here now, at a black-tie wedding full of stunning single women, he couldn’t imagine spending this one without her either.

  Oh my God. What the hell is going on?

  What was going on was that he didn’t want to be here. He liked weddings, and he liked his cousin, and for the moment, even the crowd wasn’t bothering him too much. But this wasn’t where he wanted to be. He didn’t want to be home alone. He didn’t want to be out with Julie. He didn’t even want to be staring up at the sky from the bed of his truck.

  Tonight, quite possibly because it was the furthest thing from a black-tie wedding and an endless stream of single women, the only thing that piqued his interest was the idea of sitting on the couch with his feet on the coffee table and an Xbox controller in his hand, talking shit with the foul-mouthed woman of his dreams.

  His heart sped up, and suddenly the patio’s fresh air was no less suffocating than the stuffy ballroom.

  I need her. Now.

  It was true, wasn’t it? He needed Dara tonight. Not just as his escape route or his sanity check. He needed her. That wicked sense of humor. The way she knew better than anyone in the world how to make him laugh, and also when he really didn’t want to laugh. The way she could look at him and make everyone else in the room disappear.

  And that escape route she’d offered and the sanity checks she always did, those just underscore
d everything. After all these years, not only did Dara still understand his limits, and not only did she accept those limits without judgment, she’d offered him an out tonight.

  Which begged the question—why the hell was he still here?

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Dara leaned against the counter while she waited for the microwave to go off, but she couldn’t stay still. Aside from the quiet humming of her Hot Pockets being nuked, the house was eerily silent, and it was driving her nuts. Matt hadn’t been here the last few nights, so this shouldn’t have been any different, but it was. Because he wasn’t only not here, he was at a wedding. Likely surrounded by single women.

  She didn’t envy him, though. Aspen Mill’s high-society weddings were a sight to behold, and she wasn’t at all interested in beholding it. Chances were, the couple had friends and family who’d flown in from all over the world, and she’d have bet money that from the moment Matt arrived, assuming he didn’t have Julie on his arm, people had started not so subtly introducing him to their single daughters.

  Dara gritted her teeth. Matt deserved so much better than women who only gave him the time of day because they—and everyone else in the fucking town—knew he was loaded.

  If you weren’t interested in him when he was broke, you don’t deserve him now.

  The microwave beeped, and she pulled out the plate. A couple of Hot Pockets weren’t exactly gourmet cuisine, and they’d have tasted a hell of a lot better with a beer, but it was food and it was easy and who the fuck cared? It was better than cold, congealed wedding catering.

  She took her food and a glass of ice water into the living room, parked on the couch, tucked her feet under her on the cushion and balanced the plate on her knee.

  TV couldn’t hold her attention, and she’d already watched everything in her Netflix queue, so she switched on the Xbox. Nothing distracted her from the world like some computer-generated violence.

  But even still, while blood splattered and bombs exploded on the screen and animated guys crumpled to the ground, that empty space on the other end of the couch bugged her. She’d gotten way too accustomed to Matt being here. It must’ve just been the novelty of having him around again. Of having some company that didn’t make her want to throw things.

  She’d always been just fine on her own, and it wasn’t like he was gone. Sure, he was starting to date—and it was about damned time—but they were friends again. That was all she’d ever wanted anyway.

  And yet, that vacant spot on the other end of the couch was getting more conspicuous by the hour, needling at her like a burnt pixel in the center of the TV screen. No doubt, it had less to do with his absence and more to do with where he was tonight. Social events stressed him out like nothing else. Add in a bunch of opportunistic gold diggers who were no doubt standing in line to flirt their way into a joint checking account, and—

  That thought made her teeth grind.

  Back off, bitches.

  Except he was open to meeting people now. He’d been on at least one date. Maybe he’d get caught up in the festivities tonight and connect with someone. Weddings did funny things to people, after all. Romance was in the air, alcohol was in the glasses, and people found their way into strangers’ beds. While the happy couple went off on their honeymoon the next day, some people woke up with headaches and regrets, and others woke up beside smiling, sleepy-eyed future spouses.

  Even if Matt was still shaky when it came to conversations with women he didn’t know, he was sweet, polite and sexy as hell. That smile and a tuxedo would make most women overlook an awkward introduction, and a little champagne in him and a pretty smile from her might just give him the confidence he needed so they could exchange names, numbers and anything else they were in the mood to share tonight.

  Dara stabbed a button on the controller. Okay, this wasn’t working. She quit her game and started a new one, this time on the hardest setting, pausing for a second to take a bite of her cooling Hot Pocket. Then it was game on. Bring on enemies, bring on bullets—she needed to lose herself in simulated gunfire and bloodshed before she drove herself insane.

  Bright light through the front window turned her head. She paused her game just as someone’s brakes squeaked.

  A car door slammed. Then sharp footsteps started clicking on the walk outside.

  What the hell?

  Dara set her plate and controller on the coffee table and rose.

  When she opened the door, Matt was halfway up the porch steps. Tux jacket unbuttoned, bow tie undone. Panic shot through her. Had he really come here all the way from clear out in Goldmount?

  “Are you okay?” she asked as he stepped onto the porch. “What happ—”

  He put his arm around her waist, cupped the side of her neck and kissed her. God, he was shaking. His fingers twitched on her neck, but his kiss was bold and relentless, like he was scared out of his mind but had worked up too much courage to stop now.

  By the time his lips left hers, he wasn’t the only one shaking.

  “I’m sorry, I…” He released a ragged breath. “I wasn’t going to do that. I was… I wanted to talk, but I saw you, and I—”

  “Matt, are you okay?” She touched his face. “What’s wrong?”

  He swallowed. “I just needed to be here. With you.” He held her gaze, though it seemed to be a struggle. “Is tonight’s offer still open?”

  She gulped too. “Of course it is. Come on in.”

  As he released her, the relief in his posture was palpable—his shoulders relaxed, and he exhaled like he’d been holding his breath all night.

  Dara stepped aside, motioning for him to go ahead.

  As he came into the house, she wanted to drag him upstairs and put that tux on the floor where it belonged, but she hesitated. Why this sudden shift?

  She shut the door behind them and faced him. “What happened with the wedding?”

  He ran an unsteady hand through his hair. “I just needed to get out of there.” He wrapped his arms around her. “I needed to be here.”

  I need you here.

  She put her hands on his chest, partly to touch him, and partly to keep some space between them until she’d made sense of things. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

  “Yeah, I’m…” He paused, and nodded slowly. “Now that I’m here, yeah.”

  She touched his cheek. “Talk to me. What happened?”

  “Nothing. Nothing.” He took her hand and squeezed it gently. “The wedding… It was too much of everyone on the fucking planet and not enough you.”

  Dara blinked. “What?”

  “I mean, I was surrounded by gorgeous women dressed to the nines, and none of them made me as crazy as you do standing here in pajamas.” He held her gaze. “And I just needed to be here. Not there.”

  She stared at him, struggling to comprehend what he was saying.

  Matt went on. “I thought…” He raked a hand through his hair. “I thought it was just because we were sleeping together, and maybe even because of the baby, but tonight…” He gnawed his lip. “There’s never been any pressure with you, Dara. When one of us is sick, the other’s there. When we’re both sick, we laugh about being miserable together, and then we keep each other company until we feel better. If I can’t handle a crowd, you don’t get impatient or…” He gestured at her living room. “Hell, you just offer me a place to go, no questions asked. You get me. And I don’t know how it took me this long to figure it out. Maybe…maybe I’m just a slow learner.”

  She stared at him. “What…what are you saying?”

  “I’m saying that you’re my best friend, and I’m an idiot for not realizing that the way I feel about you isn’t because of the baby. It isn’t because of the sex. Dara, you’ve been my best friend since the dawn of time, and I…” He pushed his shoulders back as he met her gaze. “And I just can’t believe it took me this lon
g to fall in love with you.”

  Dara’s knees nearly collapsed out from under her. “Matt…”

  “I love you, Dara,” he whispered. “It just took me until tonight to figure it out. I realized that when you offered to spend the evening together, you weren’t just offering me an out from a wedding I didn’t want to go to.” He tucked a few loose strands of hair behind her ear. “You were inviting me to the place I wanted to be more than anywhere else in the world. I don’t know why I couldn’t—”

  She cut him off with a kiss this time.

  Though he didn’t seem like he could get any more tense, his body stiffened, but then that tension started melting away. His arm snaked around her waist. A hand cradled the back of her head. Warm breath rushed past her cheek.

  After God knew how long, Matt lifted his head. He touched her face, caressing her cheek with the pad of his thumb, and when he spoke, his voice was as soft as it was unsteady. “Tonight, I think half the guests introduced me to available women. And I talked to them, but I couldn’t imagine myself with any of them. I don’t even mean…intimately. I just, I tried picturing myself kicking back and playing video games with them, or watching stupid sci-fi movies from the ’80s, and it…” He shook his head. “All the things I love doing, I only see myself doing with you. And, I don’t know, maybe I don’t know relationships, but that’s what I want. I want someone I can hang out with and be myself with. Someone who’s got my back and knows without a doubt I’ve got hers. And my whole life, that’s always been you. Everything always comes back to you.” He swallowed. “I’m just sorry it took me this long to come back to you.”

  “Don’t be sorry.” Dara’s eyes stung as she lifted her chin to kiss him. “You were more than worth the wait.”

  They wrapped their arms around each other and, for the longest time, just held on. Not kissing, not talking—just standing there beside her front door, Matt dressed for a wedding he didn’t want to go to, Dara dressed for an evening she hadn’t wanted to spend alone, and somehow, they’d both found their way to this.