Snow in Texas (Lean Dogs Legacy #1)

by Lauren Gilley

  The groupie who’d been studying him had come to make her move. She’d taken a stool across from him, braced her elbows on the bar, using her arms to subtly plump her breasts together. She was pretty, he’d give her that. Blonde, curvy where it counted, makeup just shy of overdone. She wore denim cutoffs with cowboy boots – he’d seen them earlier – and a tank top that enhanced her two greatest assets.

  She looked at him boldly, invitation plain in her dark eyes. “It must be boring,” she drawled, “having to stand back there while everybody else gets to cut loose.”

  He shrugged and passed a rag across the bar, just to have something to do. “I’m a prospect. Comes with the territory.”

  She wrinkled her nose. “It’s hard thinking of you as a prospect. In my head, all prospects look like little Pup.”

  He snorted and wouldn’t meet her gaze. “I promise ya, sweetheart, everybody starts out a prospect. We look all kinds of ways.”

  “But some ways are better than others,” she said with a laugh. “Where are you from? I like your accent.”

  This sounded like chitchat, but he knew it wasn’t. This woman, whoever she was, had definite plans to get him naked in a dorm room. These groupies didn’t deal in what-ifs and maybes. They banged bikers, and they were good at getting what they wanted.

  Used to, he would have been helping her efforts. Now he didn’t want to…but he didn’t really see how talking to her a little could hurt anything. It wasn’t like he had an old lady, after all.

  “New Orleans,” he answered.

  “Ooooh. I’ve always wanted to go there.”

  “Yeah?”

  “I’ve seen it in pictures. It’s beautiful.”

  He flicked a glance to her face and saw her dusky eyelids lower as she said the words, teeth grabbing at her lower lip. She knew exactly how sexy she was.

  “It can be. Parts of it,” he agreed.

  “What’s Mardi Gras like?”

  He snorted. “Crazy. Lots of drinking. Lots of topless women.”

  She giggled.

  “Not that you’d know anything about that,” he teased.

  “Oh, no, of course not.” Another giggle, and she squeezed her breasts together a little tighter.

  Colin let himself look. It wasn’t hurting anything, glancing down her shirt and letting himself enjoy it. “I didn’t catch your name,” he said, on sudden impulse, his old ladykiller habits rearing up.

  “Teagan.”

  He nodded. “I’m Colin.”

  She grinned. “I know.”

  ~*~

  Jenny

  Like she needed something else to worry about? Jenny left her brother to his Scotch and ball game and headed down the hall toward the common room, flip-flops slapping against the floorboards. She was tired; her walk always turned into a sleepy shuffle when she was worn out. The din of voices swelled as she reached the doorway, and the common room greeted her with a weeknight social spread of members, groupies, and murmuring TVs.

  Usually she liked her quiet, but sometimes it was easier to fade into her own thoughts in the middle of a crowd. Without alcohol as an option – a hard shudder passed through her – she’d settle for a little mindless company, at least.

  She got halfway to the bar, and froze.

  Colin was bartending tonight. And he wasn’t alone. One of the groupies, the blonde who called herself “Teagan,” sat across from him, giving him a look down her cleavage, throat exposed as she tipped her head back and laughed too loud at whatever he’d said.

  And Colin, the bastard, was grinning ear-to-ear, tan face darkened with a happy flush.

  And why shouldn’t he be enjoying himself with one of the girls? It wasn’t like she’d paid him any attention the last two weeks.

  Because she was having his baby, damn it! And because she loved the big jerk.

  She had two choices, she realized. Walk up to him, or retreat. Except, the way her hands had balled into fists…there was no choice, was there?

  She took a deep breath and walked up to the bar, climbed onto the stool beside “Teagan.”

  Colin started. Hard. Like she was a ghost or something.

  Teagan choked a little on her swallow of G&T but covered it well.

  Colin, on the other hand, looked like he’d been hit in the face and was having trouble getting his vision back online.

  “It’s a good thing you don’t work in a real bar,” Jenny deadpanned. “You’d freak all your customers out looking at them like that.”

  “Uh…” She could see him scrambling, the mental gymnastics visible in his eyes. “You want something to drink?”

  She started to say “red,” but that was no longer an option. “Just some water.” Her voice was tight, and she didn’t much care.

  “Lemon?”

  “Sure.”

  The groupie watched them, lips parted, eyes bouncing madly back and forth between them as she tried to get a read on the situation. She had to know that Jenny and Colin were together – everyone knew. But she was wondering if that was still present tense.

  Jenny didn’t hate or resent the club girls, didn’t hold herself superior. Look at what she had endured herself, at the hands of club members. But for some reason, right now, she hated the idea of the Lean Bitches. Men like Colin could get all the ass they wanted, whenever, wherever. Wasn’t it easy enough? Did they need groupies at their disposal too?

  She turned to the other blonde, gave her a chilly smile, and said, “Go see if anybody needs a refill.”

  Teagan’s eyes widened. “I wasn’t…” she started.

  “Refills.”

  “Right.” The girl slid off her stool and hurried away from the bar.

  Colin huffed out an annoyed breath that sent angry chills crawling across her skin. “We were just talking. Is that what it takes to get you to look at me again? Get you jealous?” He snorted. “Bit of a hypocrite, aren’t you?”

  She turned to him slowly, trying to gather her patience, wanting to look controlled and cool. “You got angry and put marks on me over something that happened six years ago. Meanwhile you’re trying to pick up a slut in my own house. Trust me, you don’t want to make that comparison.”

  He frowned. “It’s a man’s world, the MC, right? I can fuck whoever I want to.”

  The anger boiled up to something hotter, nastier in her belly, curled her lip off her teeth. “Her name’s not even Teagan. It’s Sally. She just thought the other sounded more exotic.”

  He shrugged, his look challenging, glinting with a dangerous light. “So? You think I give a shit what her name is so long as she knows what to do with her mouth?”

  She wanted to hit him, and because she’d never done such a thing, she gulped down a sudden surge of nausea, shocked at her depth of emotion.

  It must have shown in her face, because Colin’s frown morphed into one of concern. “Jen–”

  “I’m pregnant,” she blurted.

  Twenty-Six

  Colin

  “Uh….” He’d been saying that for a whole minute. Or five. Fifteen. How long had he been staring at her, uhing?

  “Colin. Say something else,” Jenny prompted. She had her hands curled around her glass of ice water, looking at him with mixed amusement and annoyance.

  His brain, catching again and again on the word pregnant like a broken record, lurched suddenly, shot him forward into full-on panic. “Jesus,” he breathed. “Shit. Like…for real?”

  She rolled her eyes. “I haven’t been to the doc yet, but yeah, all the tests I took said so.”

  “But…how?”

  “Well, when a man sticks his–”

  “I know that!” he snapped, voice rising.

  Jenny had been whispering, and she sat back when she heard his tone, brows lifting. “You want everyone to know?”

  “Do you?”

  Jenny started to respond…

  But he’d had enough. Of her distance, coldness, of the way this whole disastrous conversation was going. He stepped o
ut from behind the bar, and caught himself, just before he reached for her. “Would you come with me?” he asked instead. “Please?”

  “Where?” But she was already shifting her weight, preparing to slide off the stool.

  “Just…” He sighed, checked his temper. He had left marks on her, after all. “Can we do this somewhere else?” He gestured toward the hall.

  She studied him a moment, expression guarded. Then nodded and followed.

  Colin took them to his dorm, and locked the door once they were inside. The bed was unmade and he had laundry heaped on the desk. He pulled the blankets hastily straight, to give Jenny a place to sit, but when he turned around, she was in the desk chair.

  A small, possibly meaningless maneuver, but one that bothered him. Was she really so frightened of him now? Distrustful? She couldn’t even sit on the same sheets where they’d…

  Grumbling internally, he dropped down onto the mattress and didn’t try to keep the edge from his voice. “You’re pregnant.”

  “Ninety-five percent sure, yeah.”

  “So there’s a five percent chance you’re not?”

  She made a face and tugged a hand through her hair, not meeting his gaze. “It’s not an exact percentage thing. I was just saying.” Her eyes darted to him, and then away. “I should have started a week ago.”

  “Started?”

  “My period.” There was an implied idiot tacked onto the end of the statement. “I’m never late, and right now I’m a week late.”

  “And the test came back positive?”

  “Like I said: yeah.”

  “You took more than one?”

  “Colin–” She caught whatever she was about to say behind tightly clenched teeth. Took a deep breath, gathered her composure. Exhaled in a slow, steady stream. “I took more than one, yeah. I’ll go to the doctor tomorrow, but realistically, we’re having a baby.”

  He wondered why she hadn’t waited to tell him until she was one-hundred percent certain. He started to voice the thought, decided that would only piss her off, and was surprised when she answered it anyway.

  “I told you because I’m freaked the hell out.” She said it like an admission, head ducking, sheets of blonde hair falling down around her face. “And because…”

  “Because what?”

  Her voice was just above a whisper. “I saw you…talking to that girl…”

  He sat up straight, a prickling of emotion darting across his skin. He thought it was delight, that oh-so-elusive of sentiments. “I’m sorry. What was that? You saw me what?”

  She lifted her head and shot him a killing look, blue eyes narrowed in a ferocious, adorable way. “You heard what I said.”

  “Nah.” He leaned back and braced his hands in the messy sheets, grinning at her. “I don’t think I did. Think I’m gonna need you to repeat that.”

  Her narrow jaw clenched up tight, her lips pressed together.

  Colin laughed and sat forward, relieved to have some of the pressure taken off his chest. In his experience, any chance for a little levity should be taken; right now, they were in desperate need of some. “You wanna know what I think?”

  “Not especially.”

  “I think,” he continued, “that you saw a hot piece of ass getting too close to me, and you went outta your head with jealousy.”

  She snorted, face still locked with aggression. “You wish.”

  “No, but see, you didn’t get to see the look on your face. Because your face? You were ready to pull some hair and throw down, lemme tell you.” He could hear his accent thickening and went with it. “You were so damn jealous you couldn’t stand it, baby, admit it.”

  “Will you stop being so damn annoying if I admit it?”

  “Nah.”

  “Then forget it.”

  “I kinda wish you had started a fight with her. Her titties were about to fall out of her shirt, and I woulda liked the free show.”

  “You asshole,” she said, tone flat, in total contrast with her blazing eyes. “I was jealous, alright? I was bad jealous, and I kinda still am, so if you keep talking about that slut, I’m gonna go back out there and beat her ass on principle.”

  He laughed again, and that sense of high-octane delight went shivering down his arms. “Glad you could admit it.”

  She nodded, swallowed, glanced away. She was breathing hard; her pulse pounded in the hollow of her throat. “While we’re admitting stuff…” Her eyes slid back, dark with accusation.

  Colin’s belly clenched. He dropped his voice. “I told you I was sorry. Over and over. You know I am.”

  “I know.” Her eyes brightened and she blinked against the sudden rush of tears.

  Colin wanted to go to her, but knew better now. This had to happen on her terms, at her pace. He had no idea what it was like to be a woman who’d been physically and sexually abused. He had no course of action except to learn from her, step in when he saw openings, and respect her barriers when she put them up.

  “I know,” she repeated. “I mean, even then, I knew you weren’t him, and that you were never going to…” She dabbed at her eyes and sniffed hard. “There are these…” She gestured, like she was trying to grab hold of the words. “Trapdoors, in my head.” She frowned, like she didn’t know how else to say it. “And most of the time, everything goes along like normal, but then someone will do or say something, and the trap door opens, and all the old shit comes rushing back, and it’s like it’s happening all over again…”

  “I get it.”

  Her gaze was brimming with tears, with doubt, with a small hope that maybe he really did. “You do?”

  “I don’t get what it’s like to be you,” he amended. “To live through the shit you did. But I understand trapdoors,” he said. “I get how the past sneaks up and bites you in the ass.”

  She nodded. “Yeah.”

  Speaking of which… “You called me Lécuyer,” he said.

  “It just came out.” She blinked and her eyes were clearer. “You were just big, and scary, and so very Cajun.” She breathed a humorless laugh. “And I know you don’t like it, but you are a Lécuyer. I know to you, the ‘half’ part is what you focus on. But for me – the rest of us – we don’t see anything ‘half’ about it.”

  “Hmm.” He watched her face, felt her sincerity.

  “Everybody associated with this club has demons. Shit we wish we could change,” she told him, managing a bit of the philosophical club heir, despite her tangled emotions. “Nobody joins a club or marries a member because they’ve got all their shit together.”

  “Yeah.”

  They’d come full circle, hadn’t they? Back to the original problem. “So you’re pregnant.”

  “I’m pregnant.” She offered a wobbly smile. “Sucks, doesn’t it?”

  He felt his brows go up. “Does it?”

  “I didn’t figure you’d be happy to hear the news.”

  If he was honest, he had no idea how he felt about it. Because on one hand, he didn’t like kids and had never wanted them. But on the other hand, he’d never considered the possibility of having one with a woman he actually cared about. Who knew if there were a couple of little Colins running around in New Orleans, but he’d never dwelled on the notion. This, though…this was going to take some thought.

  “What about you?” he asked. “You happy?”

  Her smile was more of a grimace. “No. Not really.”

  A sharp twinge in his gut, up under his ribs. Shit. He hadn’t expected that to sting.

  “I decided a long time ago that kids weren’t in the cards for me,” she explained. “I’m a single, thirty-nine-year-old waitress. I’m not equipped to be a mother at this point.”

  “Hold on. Single?”

  She rolled her eyes. “Unmarried. That better?”

  He thought about it a second. “We could get married.”

  She made a disbelieving sound. “Colin, I’m not so stubborn that I’m going to deny I’ve got serious feelings for you. Bu
t you know we’re not ready to get married. Especially you.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “It means you arrived in Texas with a heartbreaker reputation and no intention of settling down anytime soon. Now you want to get hitched and raise kids together?”

  “Ugh. This conversation’s giving me a headache.”

  “The way I see it,” she continued, and he cut her off.

  “No, just stop. Because I guarantee you, the way you see it is wrong.”

  “Oh yeah?”

  “The way you see me anyway.” They were talking in circles, tip-toeing over what they really meant, what they really wanted, and he wasn’t going to let it continue. Enough was enough with her indecisive bullshit. “Come over here and sit with me.”

  She stared at him.

  Kindly, but firmly: “Jen, come sit with me.”

  She complied, and when she moved to sit beside him, he caught her around the waist and pulled her into his lap instead.

  “Oof,” she said with surprise, falling against his chest.

  He helped her catch her balance, so she was on his thighs, an arm around his neck, her face poised just above his.

  She flicked a quick grin. “You gonna try to coerce me with sex?”

  “In a minute.” He spanned her ribs with his hands, aware of the way he could crush her if he wanted, taking comfort in the idea of protecting her instead. “First I wanna get some shit straight.”

  “Sounds official.” She was relaxing; he could feel it. Hear it in the note of teasing in her voice.

  “It is. Okay, first off, I’m a shit liar. If I’m feeding you a line, I get this stupid look on my face, and I sound like some kinda cheesy douchebag.”

  She grinned. “You mean you don’t always sound like that?”

  “You’re a bad girl.” He aimed a finger at her and she laughed. “And no. Remember that first night? When you went behind the bar?”

  “Ah.” Her eyes danced. “That was, like, super douche.”

  “Yeah. Which means I’ve gotta be telling you the truth now. You know, when I’m all cool and sophisticated.”

  “Oh God.”

  “And second off,” he said, growing serious again. “You’ve gotta stop assuming stuff about me, and believe me when I tell you the truth.” He took a deep breath that felt like it might crack his ribs. “And the truth is, it doesn’t matter if I like kids, or if I want to be tied down, or if I’ve got a bad reputation. Because I’m with you now, and I love you. And you can’t just call me an asshole and pretend we don’t mean something to each other every time you get scared.”