by Erica Penrod
Race gazed over at Janie and smiled before he looked back at Jaxon. “That’s not true. She handled it all on her own.”
Jaxon clenched his hands into fists, but kept them at his sides. “You should’ve called me,” he said. Even to him, it sounded like a territorial growl.
“I didn’t have time, and …” She turned to him directly. “Come to think of it, you’re the last person I would call.”
His hands went slack. “Why would you say that?” he asked, his gut clenching against her proverbial kick.
“Because I’m done with this. I’m done with you and all your reality show crap. That’s why divorced, remember?”
Race cleared his throat. “I’ll give you two some privacy.” He got up. “Janie, where did you say I should put my things?”
You’ve got to be kidding me …
“Down the hall.” She pointed. “Second door on your right.”
Race left, and Gus followed him.
Not my dog too.
“He’s not staying here,” Jaxon ordered, pointing to the hardwood floor for emphasis.
She stood up and met him face to face. “Oh, yes he is. This is my house, and I get to say who stays and who doesn’t.” Bumping his shoulder as she walked passed, she opened the oven door.
Jaxon got a face full of the scent of her favorite brand of frozen pizza.
She closed the door and pressed the off button on the oven. Staring out the back window, her back to him, she said, “I’m sorry.”
Jaxon fought the impulse to go to her.
“I don’t want to fight with you. It’s just that …” She rubbed her temples. “I got really upset, and I’m taking it on you.”
“There’s an obvious reason for that.” He could feel his pulse slow down into a regular rhythm.
“It is what it is. We can’t change the past, but somehow we need to fix things for the future, for the baby.”
Jaxon’s heart leapt. “That’s all I want—I’ll do whatever it takes for us to be a family.”
Janie’s face softened. “I think you misunderstood me. I’m talking about finding a way to be friends again, so we can be good parents.”
His leaping heart plummeted into his belly. “We are friends, aren’t we?”
“I’m trying, but you really aren’t helping me. Let’s leave it for now. There’s been enough drama for one day, and I’m tired.”
“Okay, for now. But I don’t want that man staying here.”
He swore that fire burst from her mouth. “That man is your brother, and he is my guest, so if you have a problem with it, I suggest you cry on Miley’s shoulder.”
“That was a low blow,” Jaxon said, his voice full of the hurt she’d inflicted. If only she’d let him explain.
“You should see how it feels when you get your heart broken with the whole world watching.”
He walked to the door. Her feet shuffled behind him. There was a time when getting out the door meant a ten-minute goodbye kiss. Their lives weren’t supposed to be this way. She should be in his arms. Pulling the handle, he looked over at her. “What happened to us, pony girl?”
The anger in her eyes dwindled into a low flame, casting shadows on her angular features. “I think we became famous.”
Jaxon stepped onto the porch, took one more look at the most beautiful woman he’d ever known, hung his head, and walked to his truck.
“Jaxon,” he heard Janie call, as he opened the door. He paused, then closed it. Standing on the edge of the porch, with the sunlight across her skin, he saw a deep sadness painted in detail, and he was the one holding the paint brush.
“Yeah?” he answered.
“They know I’m pregnant.”
“What?” He put his face in his hands, taking a second to pray it wasn’t true. Then he looked up and she was gone. Jaxon hoped he could’ve mended something between them before the pregnancy went public; forge some sort of shield around her and his child. If he could convinced her nothing mattered more to him than her feelings, maybe the tabloids wouldn’t cut so deep. But now he knew they’d slice right through her.
He got in the truck and cried like a baby.
Chapter 6
Race leaned against the wall in the hallway between the two bedrooms and the bathroom. His muscles were tight, begging him to go for a run and loosen things up. Earlier, he came into the living room, thinking Jaxon was gone, but Janie stood in the doorway talking to him. What in the heck had he got himself into?
Meeting his biological family was about what he expected, minus the punch to the jaw. Kyle had never attempted to contact him, so he didn’t expect a welcome wagon. As for his siblings, they found out their father had kept a secret from them for over twenty years and knew they might need time to adjust to the idea of an older brother. What he didn’t anticipate was Janie. He saw her with Jaxon in a few of the articles about The Cowboys and knew she was a beautiful woman, but he didn’t expect to feel so drawn to her. Of course, it could be that she had been kind and welcoming. What did he know? He rubbed his eyes. He was exhausted, mentally and physically, and it was no time to decipher his emotions.
Waiting in the hall, he overheard Janie tell Jaxon about the press discovering her pregnancy. Even though she didn’t comment, it was only a matter of time before one photograph would confirm it, if they hadn’t already noticed her tiny belly.
The door closed, and Race stepped into the room. Janie stood with her back against the frame; her hands were behind her back, still clutching the handle. Gus got up and sat beside her.
Race didn’t move any farther, giving her the space she needed if she wanted it, but if not … he could be there in a heartbeat. He’d only met her a few hours ago, and already he felt this impulse to protect her. Running his fingers through his hair, he shook his head. What is wrong with me? Janie was divorced and pregnant, that alone was enough to feel anxious over her. And she was his brother’s ex-wife, as she said; they were family. But the way his head spun whenever she smiled wasn’t brotherly affection. His brain screamed, I object, but his heart overruled.
“Are you ready to eat?” he heard Janie ask, pulling him from his psychological self-exam.
He cleared his throat. “Yes, I am,” he said, and followed her into the kitchen.
Janie wiped at her eyes, and he pretended not to notice. “Where’s the pizza cutter?” he asked.
“In the middle drawer next to the sink.”
He located the utensil and began slicing.
Janie took the stool next to the counter and grabbed a couple napkins from the dispenser. “You’re pretty good at that,” she said, her blue eyes jaded by fatigue.
“I worked at a pizza place when I was a teenager,” Race said.
Janie picked a stray pepperoni off the pan and tossed it into her mouth. Race handed her a slice on a plate. “Thanks,” she said, after she swallowed. “But I thought you said your family was wealthy. Seems weird for a rich kid to toss pizza for spending money.”
Sliding a plate across the counter, he walked around and pulled up the stool next to Janie. “They were—I mean they are. But that doesn’t mean I was a spoiled rich kid.” He bit into his slice. “My father was adamant that I knew how to work; he didn’t want to deny me the satisfaction of earning my own paycheck.”
He took a sip of water. “Believe me, there were many Friday nights I was stuck slicing pies when I wished I could have been out with my friends. Most of them had unlimited bank accounts and gave me a lot flack over my job. But as an adult, I can see where my dad was coming from.”
“Do you have any siblings?” Janie asked. “I mean, besides Brynna and Jaxon.”
“Yeah. I have two sisters; both are in college.”
“Are you close? Do they know you’re here?”
Race laughed. “Yeah, we’re close. Maybe a little too close for their comfort.” He wiped his mouth with the napkin. “But they don’t know I’m here. I needed to do this on my own.” Race placed the napkin on his lap. “Yo
u’d like my sisters. They’re good girls, not too spoiled.” He winked at Janie.
Janie grinned back at him. “I didn’t know you could separate spoiled and rich until I met Jaxon’s friend Kip.”
“Kip Morgan?” Race said. “One of the other guys on the show?”
“Yes,” she answered. “They were friends in high school. In fact, I’m sure helping Jaxon was the only reason Kip agreed to do the show. Heaven knows Kip doesn’t need the money, and he’s never struck me as the fame seeker.”
“Why did Jaxon need help? Was he in financial trouble?”
She nodded. “Yeah, the ranch was.”
“And Jaxon thought the television show could fix that.”
Janie got up and placed her dishes in the sink. “Yeah, but production wasn’t moving fast enough until Kip agreed to do the show. The producers were looking for a couple other guys, preferably single, since Jaxon was married; it always helps ratings to have a couple good-looking bachelors.”
She took a cookie sheet from the cupboard, setting it on the counter, and then took the dough from the fridge.
“That looks good,” Race said.
“This is a better version of homemade cookies than mine from scratch.” Pinching off a piece of the dough, she put it on the pan. “Anyway, Kip offered Jaxon money, but he wouldn’t accept it, and he wouldn’t take a loan from him, either. Kyle was out of options and about to lose everything when Jaxon was approached about doing the reality series. So to him, it was an obvious solution.”
“What did you think?” Race asked. He got up and went to the sink.
“I guess at the time, I thought it was a good idea. All I was thinking about was the family having enough to pay the loan down on the ranch. Jaxon and I had been together since we were kids, and I was used to him being gone a lot with rodeo …” Her shoulders slumped and her voice softened. “But that’s over, and now I have to move on.”
“I saw you and Kyle in cameo a few times, but how come they didn’t film more episodes on the ranch?”
Janie put the cookies in the oven and stood next to Race at the sink. “They wanted to follow his rodeo career. It was day in and day out on the road, from town to town. A lot of footage was shot of him in the chutes getting ready and then the eight seconds.” She looked up at Race. “But, of course, you know that; you’ve seen the show.”
“Yeah. It was well done. I had no idea what went into rodeo as a career.”
Janie got a funny look on her face and said, “I never asked you about your connection to the equine world?”
Race lifted one of his ostrich-quill boots and noticed they could use a polish. He teased Janie with a bump to the shoulder. “So you thought I bought these because I found out my biological brother is a cowboy and my father runs a cattle ranch?”
“Well, no.” She blushed.
Against his better judgment, he couldn’t help think she was even more beautiful with the color in her cheeks. “I’m giving you a hard time. You could say my family has a few horses.”
“How many horses?”
“Thirty or so.” He grinned. He loved watching her get flustered. Her eyes widened to the size of silver dollars, and her tan face glowed like she’d been dipped in sunshine. Race felt a little sunburn roll through his body.
“Thirty?” Janie said disbelievingly. “How do you ride that many horses?”
“Well, I have two that I like to team rope on, and then my sisters each have one. They’re into dressage. My parents ride, and my dad is interested in the genetic makeup of a good horse. He owns a quarter horse stud and several broodmares; he’s produced some quality colts and foals.”
“I guess that explains your choice in clothing,” Janie said. She turned around and took a sponge and cleanser from the cupboard. Scouring the sink, she scrubbed, then rinsed and filled it with water and detergent. “Can you hand me a dish cloth from that drawer on your right?”
“Sure.” Race opened the drawer and stared at the four neatly stacked piles, the folds all facing the same direction. He chose one and shut the drawer. “Do I sense a little … or a lot of O.C.D.?”
“Why would you say that?” She yanked the cloth from his fingers and smiled.
“I don’t know. Something in the perfectly placed pillows and immaculate drawers led me to believe it, and I noticed your toilet paper was folded at the end as I passed the bathroom. Call me crazy, but I’m thinking you may have an issue with cleanliness.”
“I certainly do not.” She dipped the cloth in the soapy water and wrung it out. “If it’s clean and in its place, I have no issue at all.”
“Oh, okay,” Race said. He laughed to himself. She was the cutest obsessive-compulsive person he’d ever met, and obviously the way to her heart was with a cleaning cloth. He took the towel from the oven door. “What can I do to help?”
Janie looked at him and giggled. “Well, you can put that back for starters,” she said, pointing to the towel, “and then how about grabbing the ice cream from the freezer. It needs to thaw for a minute. I assume you like ice cream with hot chocolate chip cookies?”
“Of course. But if I disappear in the morning, either I’ve died from carbohydrate overload, or else I’m out trying to run it off.”
“Do you run often?”
“Yes,” he said. “At least I try to. How about you?”
She chuckled. “Do I run? Well, let’s see. If a dog’s chasing me, then yes. Otherwise, that’s a big no.”
“That answers that.”
The dishwasher was loaded, and the counter was wiped before the timer went off for the cookies. Janie set the warm cookies on a cooling rack and grabbed some bowls. She took the caramel from the fridge and heated it in the microwave. She put two cookies in the bottom of the dish and added a scoop of ice cream. Then she drizzled the hot caramel on top.
“I may go into a diabetic coma after this,” Race said, as Janie handed him a bowl and spoon. “But it’ll be a sweet way to go.”
“You’re funny,” Janie said.
Someone knocked on the door, and Gus barked.
“You’re popular tonight,” Race said, taking a big spoonful of ice cream, enjoying it almost as much as he was the company.
“Maybe I’m not home,” Janie said with a deflated voice.
Race swallowed. What if it was Jaxon? His mother taught him well, but he’d forget all about his manners if Jaxon made Janie cry one more time today.
Knock, knock. “Janie, it’s me. Open up.”
“It’s Brynna,” Janie said. “Race, how would like to meet your sister?”
Chapter 7
Miley Rhodes relaxed in her leather chair. Her skirt was hitched up, and her long legs stretched across the desk. High heels hid beneath her chair while her feet basked in the sunlight streaming through the high-rise windows. Running her fingers through her long blonde hair, she tipped her head back and laughed.
“Of course, that’s great news,” she said into the phone. “Yes. I know it was costly, but I think the investment paid off.”
She scrolled Instagram while she listened to one of the show’s producers. At the end of the conversation, she said goodbye and hung up. Sitting up, she let her legs fall to the floor. A pile of tabloid magazines sat in the middle of her desk; thumbing through them, she could see the dollar signs adding up.
The first season of The Cowboys had been a huge success, but the real challenge came with the second season. Filming had wrapped up, and they were about to launch the press tour. Any exposure for the show and its overnight stars would help ensure the second season’s triumph. The producers were concerned, due to contract agreements, that there was very little footage of Kip Morgan’s private relationship with his family. He wasn’t romantically involved with anyone, and that’s where the producers stepped in and hired Austyn Macoy for the second season. Kip made very few public appearances, aside from those that were mandatory, and fuel was needed for the fire. As far as Tayson Cole, the third cowboy on the show, his playboy
image was a deep goldmine, and they continued to profit from his unscripted escapades.
That left Jaxon Davis for the marketers to work with.
Jaxon’s career as a PRCA saddle bronc rider kept the fans on the edge of their seats. His good looks and crooked smile, packaged with a whole lot of charisma, made him an easy attraction. After the first season when he was still married, some of the novelty had worn off. They needed to give the fans incentive to watch. Miley knew exactly what to do.
She was the director, and it wasn’t her job to promote the show, but she wasn’t stupid; she knew where her salary came from. It was an easy fix. Flirt a little, a late-night dinner meeting now and then, strictly business-related, and, of course, conveniently leaked to the press. Now that Jaxon was divorced, it didn’t feel as enticing, but she got word that Jaxon’s pretty ex-wife was pregnant, and suddenly it was a paparazzi party. It took a little money, but she managed to convince the producers, and they funded the cash for her scheme. Miley hired an investigator to dig for anything on Janie Davis that would make a good headline. Then she added a reporter and photographer to her payroll and flew them to Utah to see what they could get on camera. A few dollars dropped here and there, and every network would be running a segment on the poor little pregnant girl and her reality star ex-husband.
Miley wanted to make a name for herself in the industry, and with her sculpted frame, pouty lips, and all the other desired traits of a leading lady, she was struggling to be taken seriously behind the camera. The first season of The Cowboys had given her one foot in the door, and now she tried desperately to keep it open. A successful second season would keep the door from slamming in her face, and if she had to take Jaxon Davis down to keep her career on the up and up, so be it.
* * *
Janie raced to the door.
It burst open. “What is going on around here?” Brynna asked, as she flew into the house, threw her purse on the couch, and turned to Janie. “I stopped by the salon earlier today. You’re not there, and Tracy tells me some guy, who happens to be an identical twin to Jaxon—” her hands whirled in the air “—shows up and claims he’s our brother. I mean, who does that?”
