Roping the Daddy: A Contemporary Western Romance (Kester Ranch Cowboys Book 3)

by Tori Kayson

The older cowboy held out a hand to help her up. Her stumble against Hawk was a pretense to whisper against his neck. “He’s frightened.”

  When Hawk nodded acknowledgement, she stepped back, followed a pace behind as father rested a reassuring hand on son’s shoulder. Her own legs wobbled in sync with Cody’s fear.

  How did they ever survive this awful routine week after week, year after year?

  Cody plodded outside, a quiet sob shaking his shoulders. Hawk walked with him, Brigit following a few paces behind.

  Kierra fell in line with Brigit. Wanted to smack the smirk of triumph off her old friend’s face. Their friendship had dissolved the second Brigit shouted the news of her pregnancy in front of their entire high school class, but Kierra had seen glimpses of the woman’s ugly, vindictive spirit before then. Just not the depth. “You better not hurt that boy.”

  “He’s my son. Not yours.”

  “It takes two people to make a child, Brigit. He’s just as much Hawk’s son as yours.”

  The woman’s wicked grin blossomed even wider. “True that. You never were able to hold onto him back then. What makes you think you can hold onto him now?”

  The perfectly aimed zinger pierced her heart. Ten years of wishes and longing deflated and withered, died.

  This woman, as the mother of Hawk’s son, still wielded tremendous power over the cowboy. Every move, every command, every summons, and he’d come running.

  True that, Brigit. True that.

  ****

  “I’m sorry about tonight.” Hawk pressed a palm against the warm metal of Kierra’s truck and peered in at her through the open window.

  Somewhere in the mess of Brigit’s unexpected appearance and abrupt departure, Kierra had bolted for her truck. Why was Kierra leaving so soon? Just now eight thirty. And what caused her to lock herself in the truck before he had a chance to properly thank her for talking Cody out of a major meltdown?

  “Don’t be.”

  The moon beamed its silver light directly at her, showcased her smooth cheeks and danced off those warm expressive eyes. Eyes that pulled him in and tried to push him away at the same time. Tried. Good thing he didn’t give up easily.

  He grazed her cheek with his fingertips, her soft intake of breath like a whisper against his skin. “What are you afraid of?”

  “Wh..what makes you think I’m afraid?”

  His gaze tumbled to the lock in the down position. When he connected with her again, a lump worked in her throat.

  She licked her lips. Full, red lips. Lips that he’d hoped to kiss tonight.

  “It’s late. I need to get back to the ranch.” Did she think he didn’t hear the tremble in her voice? Or the way her hand shook as she twisted the key in the ignition?

  The truck rumbled to life, his chance for a private conversation perishing in the cloud of smoke that puffed out the back. In the determination that etched her face.

  To get away from him?

  He sighed, exhausted over the years of worry. Frustrated over the outcome of tonight. Defeat pulled at him.

  The resolve softened on her face. “It’s not your fault, Hawk.”

  “It’s every bit my fault. If I hadn’t—”

  “Then you wouldn’t have such a sweet boy to love and cherish.”

  He lifted a pained face to meet hers. “He would’ve been ours.”

  A wounded mewl came from inside the cab. Then her soft voice. “And we might be in the same situation as you and Brigit.”

  He shook his head. “No.” Never.

  “You don’t know that. We were young. Too young. What we had wouldn’t have survived.”

  “You trying to convince me? You’ll have to do better than that.” Because he’d surely held onto it all this time. Like a treasure chest full of precious jewels. Plucking it out occasionally to stare at the exterior, but never daring to lift the lid. Afraid he’d wake up and discover it was all a dream. That she was a dream.

  The door opened, and he backed away. Kierra stepped out and slammed into his chest.

  “Maybe this’ll do it.” Her hooded eyelids spoke volumes, as if that throaty voice hadn’t warned him of her intention.

  Her length pressed him back to the truck until his rump landed on steel. Soft curves melded into him like chocolate syrup drizzled over a mound of ice cream, seeping into every vacant cranny. Her moon-drenched face, her dazzling beauty, arrested his normal bodily functions. Like breathing. Talking.

  With an impatient huff, she dragged his head down. Her mouth connected with his and her tongue slid over to take possession. Fingers threaded through his hair then danced across his shoulders. Down his arms. Pressed into his lower back, her tongue diving deeper, deeper…

  Mercy!

  Her hand slid inside his shirt and covered his heart. A moan purred from her throat.

  Fire blazed up his limbs, tearing through his body, leaving tinder in its wake. The warning in his head got louder. More like a blaring smoke alarm now.

  No, no, NO! Not yet. He’d dreamed about her, about this moment for so long. He couldn’t stop now.

  He had to stop now. Before he couldn’t anymore.

  “Honey…” Gently, he extracted her hand, kissed her palm. Rested his forehead against hers. Catching his breath was impossible when she nestled even closer, her hips moving in a subtle rhythm, her breathing just as labored as his.

  He held her out. So she could see his passion-inflamed eyes, comprehend the meaning behind the words. “Maybe you should be scared.”

  Frustration flickered across her face, but just as fast, understanding and acceptance. She huffed and pushed back a disheveled band of hair from her face. Her lips were red and swollen, and her face flushed. Her fragrance, spice and orange, toyed with his resolve.

  Maybe he could handle one more kiss.

  Just as his brain latched on to that idea and his hands reached to tug her back into his embrace, she slid into the truck and buckled her seat belt.

  “Maybe I should. But I’m not.” Dark eyebrows lifted and those full lips curved in a flirty smile as she pulled the truck away from the curb and headed down the road, waving out the window.

  The truck’s blinker winked, and he waited until it disappeared from view, grinning like the eighteen-year-old he used to be.

  16

  Kierra tucked the tablet against her chest and toed the screen door open, juggling a mug of herbal tea in one hand.

  She set the ceramic cup and tablet on the side table and draped her forearms along the porch rail. Late afternoon sun drenched the ranch in amber hues. Majesty nickered from the pasture and hoofed the ground. Cattle lowed in the distance. Tools clanged in the barn.

  Friday night and not a guest in sight or scheduled on the calendar for the entire weekend.

  She should be upset about that. Maybe a tad worried about the lack of revenue or the jilted magazine feature. But, nothing. Not even a glimmer of anxiety.

  Hawk stepped out of the barn, glanced her way. Smiled in that lazy way of his. Like he’d been waiting all day to see her. Like she was the most important person in his world.

  Nope. Not one ounce of anxiety. Just simple, pure contentment and…peace. That’s it. After dinner at Hawk’s house a couple weeks ago, peace about their past settled over her. She hadn’t been able to shake it.

  Not that she’d tried.

  Especially since that kiss…

  She watched the cowboy lean over the truck bed. Jeans wrapped tight against his cute rump, navy shirt snugged against his wide shoulders. When he turned around and headed her way, thigh muscles strained against the confinement.

  Heat warmed her neck and she fanned her face with her hand. Maybe she should’ve fixed an iced tea? What was she thinking drinking hot tea on a scorcher of an afternoon?

  The cowboy took the porch steps two at a time, backed that cute tush up to the rail, and tugged her against his chest. “Hey, gorgeous. Missed you today.” Silver eyes scanned every inch of her face before settling on her l
ips.

  He was going to kiss her, like that night at his house. They’d shared a few since then, but mostly just quick pecks in passing. This one would rev up her motor, already had, and his lips hadn’t even connected with hers yet.

  Maybe Brigit was wrong. Maybe she could hold on to him. At least, at this moment.

  She wound her arms around him, toyed with the ends of his short hair at the nape. Savored the feeling of her length pressed against him, the barely corralled strength, the bottomless warmth, the earthy, fruity scent that clung to his clothes and neck. “You did, did you?” No need to make it easy for him.

  His mouth came down on hers, his lips teasing hers apart. His butterscotch flavored tongue joined hers in the briefest of meetings, then he pulled back with a satisfied smile.

  As if that two second kiss was enough for him? Really?

  He was on to her. Apparent from the crooked smile curving his lips as he answered, “Yep.”

  Had she said that aloud? Or was he answering her question? Whatever, that sorry too-fleeting kiss didn’t begin to cover her need. She dragged his head down for a much longer, more satisfying encounter.

  The kind that made her toes curl and her legs puddle. The kind that made his chest thump through the fabric of his tee. The kind that made her yearn for more of him.

  “Guess you must’ve missed me too,” he said, adding an extra kiss on the tip of her nose, his breathing as rough as hers.

  “Don’t get cocky.”

  His laughter caught her by surprise. How long since she’d heard that full-blown joyful sound come from him? He set her away from him and immediately she missed his warmth. “I noticed the driveway was clear. No guests tonight?”

  “Not a single one all weekend.” She rested her elbows on the rail next to him, their hips touching.

  “Whoa!” He leaned back. Eyebrows jacked high, hid under the hat. “All weekend! So what plans hast the Lady of the Manor made for her two days of leisure?”

  She chuckled at the butchered British accent. “Hang out at the ranch. Maybe a long ride. Catch up on some reading. Work up a marketing plan for next year.”

  “What? That sounds like work. No vacation? How about a trip to the beach?”

  “Beach?” She scoffed and waved a hand to encompass the property. “Why would I want to go there when everything I love is right here?” Everyone.

  Yeah. She. Loved. Him. Had never stopped. Time and circumstances hadn’t extinguished the torch, just dimmed it. Made it possible for her to live her life without him in it. But now that he was back, she couldn’t imagine him not being in it again.

  What would happen if Hawk didn’t get the news he hoped for from the attorney? And what if Brigit moved again? What then?

  ****

  “Maybe I can talk you into dinner again?” Hawk hesitated to ask for fear of a repeat of the last catastrophe, but after what seemed like an endless stretch of nights alone at the tiny house, he longed for company, for her company. Since Cody had been at his mom’s this entire week, he’d come up with odd jobs at the ranch, any excuse to find more time with Kierra. But with a packed ranch all week, that tactic hadn’t worked well.

  Besides, Cody expected Hawk to pick him up in a few minutes, and Hawk planned to drop Cody off at school on Monday. So Brigit would have no reason to show up unannounced at his house during the weekend. All good, right?

  If he could just make himself believe it. Why hadn’t the attorney called yet?

  “It’s a good possibility, cowboy.” She stepped in front of him again and pressed her warm, lean body against his. Draped her arms around his back, nibbled at his neck, her spicy scent inviting him closer, her moist lips begging for capture.

  Every inch of him flared with heat. He’d set her away just for that reason, and she knew it. Had to know it. He tugged her hands down, confining them at his sides, while he growled a playful warning. “You keep that up and I might not have time to throw the steaks on the grill.”

  She drew back like a contented cat after capturing a bird. Minx, kick-starting his engine so easily after years of nonuse. “Steak? Count me in.”

  He chuckled. “I figured when I mentioned steak—” His phone vibrated with a distinct tone reserved for only three people. One of them stood in front of him. So was it Cody or the attorney?

  “Excuse me. I have to get this.” Wrestling his phone from the clip with one hand, he slid an arm around Kierra’s waist, tucked her against his side.

  Cody.

  “Hey, bud. You almost ready?”

  “Dad…” Silence, awkward and heavy. Sobs, soul wrenching, reached out from the phone to twist his father heart. Was that Cody crying?

  Hawk bolted from the rail and Kierra lost her balance. Fumbling the phone, he grasped her arm until she stabilized, then mashed the phone against his ear and moved to the center of the porch. “What’s wrong, Son?”

  “I…” A loud sniffle. “Ran…away.” Fear punctuated the heaving gasps.

  Ran away? As in the back yard? Down the street? A dozen questions rapid fired through his brain, but he prioritized them. “What happened?”

  “Mom and Jimmie…packed the car.” Another snuffle. “I told them I wasn’t going until I talked to you.”

  An icy glob of fear doused any leftover heat. So Brigit planned to leave again. Without telling him.

  Nothing had changed.

  Kierra moved close and gazed up at him. Questions simmered in her mocha colored eyes, support radiated from her beautiful face and the butterfly touch against his shoulder.

  Nothing? Everything had changed. Shifted. As if stuck on the side of a deserted highway, the hood lifted, staring at a malfunctioning engine, with a massive tornado bearing down on him. What was he to do first?

  “Jimmie hit me, Dad.”

  The planet wasn’t big enough to hide that man from him.

  First? Find his son. Second, track down that low life. “Where are you now?”

  “In a bathroom. At Jiffy Mart.”

  “Do you know the add—” Cody didn’t drive. Of course he wouldn’t know the address. Why hadn’t Hawk taught his son to be more aware of his surroundings in the event something like this happened? “Did you catch some street signs? Tell me what’s nearby.”

  “Hold on. I’ll peek outside.” A door creaked and muffled traffic noise became hold music.

  While he waited, Hawk dug the truck keys out of his pocket. Whispered to Kierra, “I gotta go. Sorry.” He whirled and made it to the bottom of the porch stairs, surprised to hear Kierra’s boots keeping pace beside him.

  “Dad, the sign says Atkins Jiffy Mart. There’s a church across the street and a post office.”

  “United Methodist Church?” Hawk opened the passenger door for Kierra and she practically dived in. He jogged around to the driver’s side and cranked the engine.

  The door creaked open again. “Yeah. That’s it.”

  “Okay, Cody, I know exactly where you are. You hang tight. Lock yourself in the bathroom and don’t let anybody in. Check the time on your phone and add ten minutes. That’s how long it’ll take me to get there. Got it?”

  “Yes, sir. Lock the door. Don’t let anybody in. Ten minutes.”

  “Good boy. You did the right thing, Son. Don’t worry, okay? Everything will be all right.”

  A combination sigh and sob sounded on Cody’s end, then, “Hurry, Dad. I love you.”

  “I love you too.” Hawk was about to disconnect when Kierra reached for the phone. He handed it over.

  “Cody? You still there?” Kierra asked. For the tense ten-minute drive, the amazing woman beside him kept Cody occupied, peppering him with questions and sharing stories of her childhood with two brothers. A couple times Hawk even heard subdued laughter from Cody’s end of the phone.

  Finally, he wheeled the truck into the convenience store lot, pulled it right up to the restroom door.

  “Cody, we’re outside now. You can open the door,” Kierra said, barely waiting until the t
ruck shut off before vaulting from the seat.

  He was right behind her.

  The exterior door cracked open wide enough for Cody to peer through, then his son flung it wide open and raced outside to barrel into Hawk’s chest.

  Hawk held on until the sobs stopped, unsure if they were Cody’s or his.

  Finally, he curled light hands around his boy’s shoulders and set him back a space to inspect. Kierra moved in to stand beside him, blocking his son from public view.

  Disheveled shirt, a tiny tear near the collar, but that could’ve been there before today. Red swollen face. From crying or—

  “Where do you hurt, Cody?” Kierra asked, her tone motherly, her hand brushing Cody’s hair back in a smooth, soothing motion.

  Cody pulled up a sleeve. Angry purple bruises ringed his arm. The same on the other side. “And he hit me here.” His son jabbed a finger against his backside. Lifted his shirt and angled for a better view.

  A livid bloody welt. From a belt?

  Next to him, Kierra sucked in a breath. Closed her eyes.

  Him? His eyelids stayed open. Cataloged every last horrific detail.

  He unclipped his phone. Took a picture of each injury.

  Hawk slid an arm around Cody’s shoulders. “Let’s go.”

  “Where?” Cody shrunk out of his hold, edged back toward the restroom door.

  Nine years of not doing nearly enough to save his son from this type of assault. No wonder Cody thought Hawk might put him right back in that situation. What if this ordeal had ended with a vastly different outcome?

  Not. One. More. Day.

  “To the emergency room. You might need stitches.” He didn’t, but Hawk wanted this documented. Witnessed.

  Cody took a tiny step closer. Come on, Son. Believe in your dad.

  Kierra nodded encouragement. “Good idea, sweetheart. It’ll hurt way more if it gets infected.”

  Hawk held out his hand. A couple beats of indecision then Cody took it.

  It was past time for Hawk to step up and be the dad his son needed.

  ****

  It was past time for Brigit to step up and be the mom her son needed! Couldn’t she see how her lifestyle choices affected her son? How could her old friend be so selfish, so uncaring? And to stand by and allow her boyfriend to hit Cody…unconscionable!