The Virgin Cowboy Billionaire's Secret Baby

by Lauren Gallagher

  Her throat ached with the threat of tears. She ran her fingers through his hair, and despite the shakiness in her voice, nothing she’d ever said felt as true, profound and easy as when she whispered, “I love you, Matt.”

  He met her gaze. “I love you so much.”

  She kissed him gently. Then again. And then he slid his hand up into her hair and really kissed her. Full-on, deep, like he had the night he’d fucked her in the barn, and she was a mess of emotions and arousal, and hormones didn’t even touch any of this. She was relieved to have him back here in his arms, that they’d finally said the words that were so long overdue, and she wanted nothing more than to be as close to him as humanly possible.

  She broke the kiss and swept her tongue across her lips. “Maybe we should take this upstairs.”

  His smile—all nerves and desire along with the shine of tears in his eyes—almost dropped her knees out from under her. “I thought you’d never ask.”

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Fifty miles of striped blacktop from the country club in Goldmount to Dara’s driveway had felt like five hundred, every mile stretching out farther than the last, and he’d been halfway out of his mind as he’d followed his high beams down that familiar expanse of interstate and back roads. The never-ending drive had finally ended, and he was finally here, and now it was like he’d never been away from this place. Like he’d never put on that tux that was now scattered across her bedroom floor on top of her T-shirt and sweats.

  As he sank onto her bed, wrapped up in her arms with her hair falling beside his face and her skin against his, that drive became a dream, and the wedding a distant memory—there was no more feeling of needing to get away from something or needing to be someplace else, because he was right where he needed to be. He was with the woman he’d wanted and needed all along, barely believing there’d ever been a time when he thought he belonged anywhere else.

  He rolled her onto her back, kissing her and cradling her head as he eased her onto the pillow. Without breaking the kiss, he trailed his fingers downward and slipped his hand between her legs. Gently, just the way she’d showed him, he drew slow, soft circles around her clit.

  She gasped and arched her back but didn’t break the kiss. They made out, and he teased her, and he was in no hurry at all. It had taken too long—too many years—to get to this night; he wasn’t about to rush anything.

  He wasn’t about to slow it down either, especially not when she started to fall apart. Her nails dug into his shoulder and she rubbed her clit against his fingers, her breathing getting faster and sharper as her body trembled beside his. She squeezed her thighs together, keeping his hand right where it was, but still letting his fingers move just a little. Just enough, if her muffled whimpers were any indication.

  Then she broke the kiss with a gasp, and he immediately descended on her neck, letting her voice thrum against his lips as gasps became moans and moans became curses.

  “Oh fuck!” she cried out loud enough to wake the neighbors. “Oh my God, oh my God…holy—” She gasped again, arching and thrashing beside him, until with a sigh, she collapsed back onto the bed, her thighs parting and releasing his hand.

  Without a word, he got on top. There was no clumsiness, no awkwardness as he guided himself to her. That first stroke seemed to take longer than the drive from the country club, and he couldn’t breathe again until he was all the way inside her. And then he could barely breathe because he was inside her. God, this couldn’t be real.

  She pulled him down to him. Their lips met. Their bodies moved. Even more than the very first time, he had no idea what he was doing—how to move, how fast and how deep, how to breathe between breathless kisses—but it all happened the right way anyway. When it was clumsy, it didn’t matter, because everything they he felt was perfect, and every whisper of “do you like this?” was met with a kiss that said yes, yes, she liked it, and so he didn’t stop, and God, but he liked it too. He loved it—every stroke, every brush of her hard nipples against his skin, every kiss that fell apart because he was just too overwhelmed to remember how.

  As his climax closed in, driving him into her again and again, he tried to hold back because he didn’t want this to be over, but he felt too damned good to hold back anymore, so he surrendered. He buried his face against her neck and groaned, and she took over—she rocked her hips, squeezing him and riding him, and everything turned white. He squeezed his eyes shut and thought he heard himself whisper “Fuck…” just before that first shudder rippled through him, and then he couldn’t make a sound. He couldn’t breathe. All he could do was tremble and try to get just a little deeper inside her as the room spun around him.

  Then he exhaled and relaxed. He panted against her neck, and as she combed her fingers through his hair, her nails grazed his scalp and gave him goose bumps.

  He lifted his head. Their eyes met—his heavy-lidded, hers dilated—and they both smiled. She touched his face.

  How was I ever not in love with you?

  He pressed a soft kiss to her lips, and then they settled into bed, Dara on her back and Matt on his side.

  He rested his hand just below her navel. She was barely starting to show, and from what all those books said, it would be a while before he’d be able to feel the baby move, but that slight swell was still enough to make his heart skip.

  She put her hand over his. The silence went on for a long time. It wasn’t uncomfortable, but it was loaded. So much to say. So much to think about. But where the hell to start?

  Dara spoke first. “I’m really glad you’re here.”

  “Me too.” He kissed her temple. “I just can’t believe it took this long to get here.”

  “Maybe we weren’t ready before now.”

  Matt swallowed. Did that mean they were ready now? “Would you think less of me if I told you this scared me to death?”

  “Which part?” She ran her thumb alongside his hand. “Seeing each other? Or the baby?”

  He swallowed. “Both, now that you mention it.”

  “Would you think less of me if I said it scares me too?”

  Matt smiled, and he kissed her gently. “Good to know I’m not the only one.”

  “Not at all.” She squeezed his hand. “And I have no idea if we can make this work. I just know I want to try.”

  “So do I.”

  “I love you,” she whispered.

  “I love you too.” Another kiss, and then silence set in again, and he held her closer, just savoring the fact that they were even here. It had taken the better part of thirty bumpy years for them to make it from childhood playmates to realizing they were soulmates, and there’d been so many opportunities to screw this up irreparably. But despite those bumps, they’d found their way back to each other.

  After a while, Dara propped herself up on her elbow beside him. “We’re going to have to tell our families sooner or later. Especially since I’m not going to be able to hide the fact that I’m pregnant for much longer.”

  Matt nodded, dread knotting in his gut. “Then we’ll tell them. And you know what? Let’s do it all at once. Invite your folks over. I’ll invite my—”

  “At the same time?” Dara blinked a few times. “Are you insane?”

  “No, I’m not.” He tucked her hair behind her ear. “I’m just tired of letting their bullshit run our lives. We sit them down. We tell them what we’re doing. And we let them deal with it.”

  “What about the farm? Your parents’ will?”

  Matt shook his head. “All I can do is hope that a grandchild is enough to make my mother rethink a few things.”

  She quirked her lips. “Well, if nothing else, the fireworks should be entertaining.”

  “Yeah.” He laughed humorlessly. “God, this is gonna suck.”

  “I know.” She sighed. “I’m sorry.”

  He stroked her hair. “I’
m not. No matter what happens with them, it won’t change anything with us. I want to make this work.”

  “Me too. And if by some chance it doesn’t work out—”

  Matt kissed her gently. “We’ll cross that bridge if we get there. Right now, I can’t imagine anywhere else I’d rather be than wherever you are.”

  Dara studied him, but then she grinned. “Who knew you were a closet romantic?”

  He laughed, wrapping his arms around her. “Just don’t tell anyone, okay?”

  “Your secret’s safe with me under one condition.”

  “What condition?”

  Grinning, she trailed her fingers along his hip. “You fuck me until neither of us can move.”

  Matt shivered, pulling her closer. “I was planning to do that anyway.”

  “Good.” She rolled onto her back and tugged him with her. “Then your secret’s safe, isn’t it?”

  As she wrapped her legs around him, he kissed her neck. “These hormones are a lot of fun sometimes.”

  “Oh, it’s not hormones this time.” Her nails ran up his back, making his spine arch. “I just want you, and I want you now.”

  “So I shouldn’t make you wait?”

  “Don’t you dare.”

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Tonight was the night.

  Four days had passed since Matt had blown off his cousin’s wedding reception and showed up at Dara’s door, and tonight, they were breaking their news to both sets of parents. This was not a discussion to be had in public, so they’d agreed on Dara’s house. Everyone in town knew where Matt lived, so her parents would have caught on and declined the invite.

  With dinnertime creeping up fast, there wasn’t much conversation. Matt had taken over Dara’s kitchen, and she was glad to let him. Her mind was too scattered to cook tonight. Fortunately, he was the opposite—cooking kept him busy and seemed to relax him. She hung out in the kitchen with him, trying to keep her nerves beneath the surface, but neither of them said much.

  Beth was invited too, and she arrived first.

  As Dara poured her a glass of wine, Beth asked, “You guys are really sure about this?”

  “They’re gonna find out sooner or later,” Matt said. “And I didn’t want to put you through all this, but you know Mom’s going to throw the will in our faces.”

  Beth nodded. “Yeah, she will. You guys could probably use some moral support too.”

  Matt smirked. “I don’t know if I’d come to you for moral—”

  “Oh, shut up.”

  Dara laughed and slid the wineglass down the counter to Beth. “I am so staying out of that one.”

  “Good.” Beth narrowed her eyes at her brother. “Brat.”

  Matt just chuckled.

  Then Beth set her glass down. “Okay, I need to be serious for a minute. Before Mom and Dad get here, I need you to know that whatever happens, I don’t want you compromising on my behalf. If Adam gets the farm, then…” She shook her head. “I’ll figure it out.”

  “I just don’t want you caught in the middle if—”

  “I’m already caught in the middle, because Mom’s dangling this over my head too.”

  Matt winced. “I know. But what about Aspen Mill?”

  Beth chewed her lip. After a moment, she sighed. “I wish I knew. But ultimately, that responsibility is theirs. Mom’s got the will, and Adam’s got the big stupid plans.” She lifted her shoulder in a tight half shrug. “We—and in this case, you—can only accept so much responsibility.”

  Matt stared at the floor for a moment, gaze distant. Then he nodded, rolling some tension out of his shoulders as he lifted his gaze. “You’re right. I can’t stop Adam any more than Mom can control me.” He tilted his head to one side, then the other, as if to snap some more of that tension. “They’re adults, and so are we. If they don’t like this, they can deal with it.”

  “They can go fuck themselves,” Dara muttered.

  Matt laughed. He wrapped his arm around her waist and kissed her cheek. “Trust you to be more eloquent than me.”

  “That doesn’t take much,” Beth said.

  “Oh hush.”

  All the bravado and flippant insistence that their parents could take the news and suck it evaporated with the ringing of the doorbell.

  Matt and Dara exchanged uneasy glances.

  She squeezed his hand. “You’ve got that pill handy, right?”

  He tapped his shirt pocket. “Ready.”

  “Good.”

  He’d promised to keep one of his migraine pills where it was within reach. He’d also promised he’d take that pill at the slightest twinge, no matter how mild the pain. One time wouldn’t kill his tolerance, and neither he nor Dara wanted to delay this conversation another night.

  Time to get it over with.

  On her way to the door, Dara muttered a string of profanity in between a prayer for this night to end better than it was currently playing out in her head. Then she put on a smile and opened the front door. Her parents had arrived, so that was a relief. They were a hell of a lot easier to deal with than Matt’s.

  She took them into the kitchen where Beth was helping Matt finish up dinner.

  “Matt. Beth.” Mom tightened her lips. “This is unexpected.” Before either of them could even say hello, she turned to Dara. “What’s going on?”

  “We just want to sit down and talk to you and Dad.”

  Her parents looked at each other, scowling.

  Dara cleared her throat. “Wine?”

  “Yes, please,” her mother said, eyeing Beth and Matt.

  Oh, this was going to be fun.

  Dara pulled a bottle from the rack and a corkscrew from the drawer. She hadn’t even had a chance to open it before another engine approached outside, slowed and stopped in front of the house.

  Matt gulped.

  Beth fidgeted. “Why don’t I take care of that?” She gestured at the wine. “So you can…um…”

  “Thanks.” Dara exchanged uneasy glances with Matt, and they both headed for the front door.

  In the entryway, he put a hand on the small of her back. “Let me.”

  Dara looked up at him and then stepped aside. She wasn’t going to turn down the offer of a buffer between herself and the people who were going to be unimpressed about her dating their son.

  Christ. Are we fifteen or something?

  She pressed her lips together as Matt opened the door.

  “Hey, Mom,” he said, cheerfully masking the nerves he undoubtedly had. “Come on in.”

  They came in, and the instant his mother locked eyes with Dara, she stopped in her tracks so quickly, her husband nearly collided with her.

  “What’s going on?” she asked through her teeth.

  Matt shut the door behind them. “We need to talk to you and Dad.”

  Alarm flickered across the woman’s face, but annoyance quickly replaced it. “You might have warned us.”

  “Would you have come?”

  The scowl answered clearly enough.

  Matt and Dara took his parents’ coats, and then she suggested everyone go ahead and sit at the table. Beth had wisely already poured two glasses of wine for them, not to mention one for herself, and Dara’s heart was in her throat as everyone moved into the dining room.

  As soon as the Coolidges and Marleys made eye contact across the room, the temperature dropped. Some families probably would have stormed out once they realized their nemeses were about to sit down at the same table. At least tonight, that rigid small-town code of politeness worked in Dara and Matt’s favor—their parents would sit down, grit their teeth and be cordial, if a bit passive-aggressive, until the meal was over.

  Matt and Dara served dinner while their parents avoided each other’s gazes. A few noses wrinkled when Matt and Dara sat next
to each other. No one commented, though. It was a round table, after all, and a tight fit in the small dining room. They both needed to be near the door so they could move easily in and out of the kitchen.

  Once everyone had sat down, Matt’s dad said grace, which made Dara’s dad bristle, but he politely didn’t push the issue.

  No one made small talk. The quiet clink and scrape of silverware on plates punctuated the tense silence.

  Dara glanced at Matt. He lifted his eyebrows. She nodded.

  Let’s get this over with.

  “So.” Matt cleared his throat, startling everyone in the room. He glanced at her again, and though her chest was tight and her stomach was fluttering, she gave him another nod. To their families, he said, “There’s a reason we wanted to bring everyone together tonight.”

  Subtle glares shot across the table from both sides.

  “We assumed there was.” His mother dabbed the corner of her mouth with her napkin, set it on her lap and folded her hands. “What’s going on?”

  Matt inhaled slowly. “To cut right to the chase, Dara and I are seeing each other.”

  All those glares shifted direction, and if looks could kill, Matt would’ve dropped dead then and there.

  “I beg your pardon?” Dara’s mother growled.

  “We’re seeing each other,” Dara said, refusing to back down from her mom’s glare.

  “And what about her baby?” Matt’s mother asked, disgust curling her lip. “You’re going to raise some other man’s child?”

  Dara’s mom glared at the woman, then turned to Dara. “You have a child to think about.”

  “Yes, I do.” Dara pushed her shoulders back. She glanced at Matt, eyebrows up. Do we drop that bomb quite yet?

  He nodded.

  Nausea tried to push its way up her throat, but she willed her stomach to stay put. Before she could speak, though, Mrs. Coolidge put up her hands. “All right. All right. You’ve made your point, Matthew. My son being unmarried without a family is better than the alternative. We can stop this now.”

  “We’re not making a point,” Matt said coolly. “Dara and I are having a baby.”