by Maisey Yates
“I agree,” he said. There was a note of something triumphant in his voice and she felt the need to issue a correction.
“So you can be around our child. Not for any other reason.”
He lifted his shoulder. “Okay.”
He was being far too casual and she didn’t trust it. Not at all. “That’s it?”
“We have an agreement. I don’t see any need to harp on my view of things. I think you’re well aware of it.”
“I don’t trust any of this,” she said, gesturing to the barrels.
“Are you looking a gift horse in the mouth? Because you aren’t supposed to do that.”
She sighed. “Well, I’m doing a lot of things I’m not supposed to do lately, aren’t I?”
“I assume you’re referring to the pregnancy.”
“Mostly the events leading up to it.”
He raised a brow, shoving his hands deep in his pockets. He looked... He looked almost boyish, mischievous right now. And most definitely irresistible. How annoying. “I wish I could say I’m sorry about that.”
“You’re kind of impossible.”
“But nice,” he pointed out. “A little bit ago you said I was nice.”
“Right. That was before I realized there were ulterior motives at play.”
“You are too suspicious.” He turned and started to head back toward the barn. “You want help unloading all your stuff?”
She thought about it for a second. She should do her best to get rid of him. Obviously, her resistance to him was at some kind of a low, so she should get back to her little house, and get some space. But she really did want help.
“If you don’t mind,” she said.
“Of course I don’t mind.”
She made a face at his retreating back as she followed him back to the stalls and to where they had parked their trucks. He didn’t mind because he was being sneaky. He was trying to bring her around to his crazy, marriage-minded way of thinking. But she was not that easy. She would not be bought with a horse and a barrel racing course. Though she imagined that people had been bought for a lot less. Succumbing because of a pony really was not the worst thing. There was a little bit of pride left in it, at least.
“I bought a lot of stuff,” she said.
He approached the back of the truck and leaned over the edge of the tailgate. “No kidding.”
She took a moment to admire... Well, everything about him. His broad shoulders, his narrow waist, the way the battered denim clung to his butt. In his standard uniform of flannel shirt and faded jeans he was hotter than any guy in a suit she had ever seen.
He bent forward, reaching in to the bed of the truck and pulling out five bags, looping handles over his forearm. Then he bent forward again, grabbing more.
“You aren’t trying to get them all, are you?”
“Of course I am. We don’t need to take two trips.”
“I have dishes in there. They’re only wrapped in paper.”
“I’ll be careful.”
“You had better. Because those contain all my earthly possessions.”
“What all did you get?”
She watched him continue to load up his arms. She gave up the idea of scolding him. Pretty soon, he had everything from the truck hanging from his arms, the bags dangling from fingertips to elbows.
“Things. For the house. It was as empty as you said it was, and I figured that I would fill it up.”
She had bought two sets of dishes for the kitchen, towels for the bathroom, soap dispensers, towel racks and a lot of other things. She had left the acquisition of any furniture for another day. She had also passed on any baby supplies. Even though walking by the aisle had made her chest seize up and her throat nearly close. She had intended to walk through and see what kind of things there were.
But she had decided against it. She didn’t want to end up having an emotional moment in the middle of the store. And anyway, she was so early in her pregnancy. She had nearly had a crisis then and there. Because maybe it was too early to be making any of these changes. Maybe she should have waited to move on to Ace’s property. Maybe she should have at least gone to the doctor first.
But it was too late for second thoughts. And too early to be looking at baby supplies.
They walked quickly down the path and she rushed to open the door for him. He walked inside, carefully depositing the bags on the couch, and on the floor in front of it.
“You’re going to need a dining table and chairs.”
She nodded. “Among other things. But I’ll cross that bridge when I come to it. For now, I don’t mind eating cereal sitting over here on the couch.”
“You’re also always welcome over at my house for meals. I’ve been a bachelor for a long time, I imagine I cook a lot more than you do.”
That was something else that hadn’t occurred to her. She didn’t know how to cook. She was such an idiot. New things kept coming up, pretty much on the hour, that made her feel helpless. It made her feel like she had no idea what she was doing with her life.
When she’d been in college she’d had a meal plan, and otherwise she and her friends had simply gone out. When she lived at home, their housekeeper cooked. And at Colton’s the situation was the same. While she knew, logically, she no longer had a housekeeper, apparently the implications of that had yet to sink in.
“Probably.” She admitted that slightly grudgingly.
“The invitation is open. I don’t want you to starve.”
“I hear I’m eating for two now. Or, one and a grain of rice.”
A strange expression passed over his face, like a sneaker wave had overtaken him on the shore, leaving him shocked, shaken. “True enough. Okay, I suppose I’ll leave you to it.”
She nodded. “Okay.”
For some reason, she didn’t want him to leave. Because at least he was experiencing the same strange mix of emotions that she was. At least he was knocked off-kilter, too. She hadn’t fully appreciated that until this moment. He had felt like the commander, the one who was steering this crazy ship. Only now did she realize he was just as lost as she was. Just as at the mercy of the storm as she was. He was just handling it differently.
But she had a feeling if he stayed she would want to get closer to him. Want to touch him. Want for him to take her into his arms. And really, that was why she was in this situation in the first place. The fact that she found him more or less irresistible.
Adding to that, now she wanted to lean on his strength.
But she couldn’t do that. She had to learn to stand on her own.
“Thank you,” she said, finally. “For all of this.” Except for the ultimatum. But she didn’t voice that last part out loud.
“You’re welcome. Thank you for not scampering off into the hills.”
She lifted her shoulders. “I guess it’s the least I could do.”
“Right.”
He just stood there, and so did she. She didn’t know what to do. Didn’t know how to deal with him now. “If you need any more help on the brewery plans, I am more than happy to pitch in. Hell, it’s my child support now.”
He chuckled. “I suppose it is.”
He was being too nice. She was deeply suspicious of it. He should have at least given her side eye for that comment. She had to remember that even though they were in the same boat, he was intent on manipulating the boat.
“Well,” she said, “good night.”
He nodded once. “Good night.”
Then he turned and walked out of the little house, leaving her there surrounded by the results of her shopping spree. She sighed heavily, suddenly feeling way too tired to unpack anything. Suddenly feeling so exhausted she wasn’t even sure she could continue to stand, much less put all of the dishes and various o
ther things away.
She wandered down the short hallway and into the little bedroom, staring at the small bed in the corner. She had a strong sense of déjà vu. Of that night she had had sex with Ace and he had taken her up to the room above the bar. Standing in front of that bed and feeling that same sense of being outside her body, outside of reality.
She moved over to the bed and sat on the edge, her heart pounding heavily. She didn’t know how she had ended up here. She lay down slowly, stretching her arms out to the side, her head tilted back, her eyes closed.
When she opened her eyes again it was because of the sound of thunder rumbling in the distance. She must have fallen asleep. She didn’t know for how long. She could hear rain pounding on the roof of the small house, could hear a small, tinny sound coming from a different room. Probably a leak in the roof hitting a pan that was strategically positioned beneath it.
For a few moments, she wasn’t entirely sure where she was. But then she remembered. This was her new house. She was living on Ace Thompson’s property, because she was having his baby and they were going to try and figure out exactly how to handle things between them.
She sat bolt upright, her heart struggling to free itself from her chest.
Adrenaline poured through her veins, terror. She was having a baby. She had no idea how she had been so effing calm through all of this. Through these past couple days of making major life decisions and changes.
She had been shocked when she found out, yes, but she hadn’t panicked. Right now, she was panicking.
She put her hand on her chest, felt her heart raging beneath her fingertips. How was she going to do this? How was she supposed to raise a baby? She couldn’t even raise herself. She didn’t know how to cook. She didn’t know how to keep the house clean. She didn’t know how to do anything. She couldn’t even remember the last time she had held a baby. Had she ever held a baby?
Somehow, she was supposed to now be responsible for her own child. She couldn’t fathom how she was supposed to do that. Couldn’t fathom how she had ever thought she could. She couldn’t do this. She couldn’t do it alone. She probably couldn’t even do it with help.
Without thinking, she stood up, walking to the bedroom door and out toward the front of the house. She had left her shoes sitting by the door. She slipped them on her feet. She was still dressed from earlier, wearing a T-shirt and jeans and nothing more.
She opened the door, stepping out onto the porch. The air was thick, cold and heavy. Rain fell heavy past the small shelter of the porch, falling so hard onto the ground it felt like God was pelting the earth with a handful of rocks.
For some reason, she had the thought that she might as well go stand down there beneath the rain. She was already wet.
She walked slowly down the stairs, fat drops landing on her face, her chest, piercing the thin fabric of her T-shirt and leaving her cold, shivering. She kept walking, though she wasn’t entirely sure where she was going. But she kept on down the path, no light guiding her, her hand stretched out in front of her to keep from running into the trees.
She continued until she came out to the clearing. Her hair was so wet it was sticking to her neck, her face. She pushed it away, ignoring the way the fabric of her clothing clung to her.
She looked toward Ace’s house. It was dark. It was probably really late, though she hadn’t bothered to check the time. A clock was another thing she would have to get. Something for her bedside. A weird thought to have while she was standing out in the dark getting poured on. But she wasn’t sure if there were any normal thoughts in this circumstance.
She started to walk away from the house, toward the barn. And she realized that she had been headed toward Lemon Drop this entire time. With her horse, there was at least some familiarity. Some chance of comfort.
She pushed open the doors to the barn, leaving them cracked a little bit, before making her way down to the end of the line of stalls. She unlatched the door, pulling it open before slipping inside.
Lemon Drop was lying down on the floor of the stall and Sierra stretched her hand out, placing her fingertips on the horse’s forelock before sliding them down toward her nose. She inhaled deeply, taking in Sierra’s scent. Otherwise, the sleepy animal didn’t budge. But Sierra was fairly satisfied she wasn’t going to panic her by sitting on the floor with her.
She sat down against the horse’s side. It was her turn to inhale the familiar smell of horse and hay, letting the sweet, musky scent wash over her. There was something simple about this. Something perfect.
It made her wish she could go back in time. To when life was as simple as hoping she did well in her next barrel racing event. Planning the next moment she was going to go out and ride. Spending the day exhausting herself out in the stables before going up to her familiar room, the one she had spent her entire life in, and climbing into the same bed she had had since childhood, curling up on the familiar mattress and finding the same sort of sleep she always had. Her dreams full of fields and the pounding of horses’ hooves.
Tonight, she hadn’t dreamed at all. And she had woken up on a hard mattress to the sound of thunder. To the realization that there was a season of her life that had passed forever, one that would never come around again. And that she was in a new phase she couldn’t predict or understand.
A tear rolled down her cheek, splashing down onto her hand. She did nothing to wipe it away. She took a deep, gulping breath, trying to get a hold of herself. But it was too late. Something in her chest was cracked, her emotions pouring through it, stinging her eyes, running down her cheeks.
She draped her arm over her horse’s back, resting her face on the animal’s body. She closed her eyes and gave in to her misery, crying until her throat hurt. She couldn’t remember crying like this since she was a kid. Back when a scraped knee or the diner having the wrong flavor of ice cream was tantamount to the world ending.
But this couldn’t be fixed with a Band-Aid, or by trying a new flavor and finding you actually liked it better. There was no easy fix to this.
Still, maybe she would get herself a Band-Aid and some Tillamook Mudslide ice cream anyway.
The thought made her laugh. And the motion of laughter dissolved into sobbing quickly. She was going crazy. It was entirely possible. She let out a low, miserable sound, rubbing her face against Lemon Drop’s back.
The sound of the stall door sliding open jolted her out of her moment of misery.
“What are you doing in here?”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
SHE LIFTED HER HEAD, turning to see Ace looming in the open door. “Having a nervous breakdown, can’t you tell?”
“That is kind of what it looks like.” She wiped her arm underneath her nose, then her fingers under her eyes, well aware that the action wasn’t particularly sexy. Not really caring. He stepped into the stall, crouching down beside her, putting his hand on her cheek. “You’re freezing cold.”
Was she? Suddenly, now that he had said that, she realized that she was shivering. That her cheeks felt like they had been bitten by frost, and her lips were numb. “I walked out in the rain,” she said.
“I see that,” he said, his voice tense.
“I just... I woke up and...”
“I know. You set my alarm off. Because I don’t really want people wandering around in my barn at two in the morning, so I have a system to notify me in case something is going on. But I don’t think you’re a burglar.”
She shook her head. “No. I’m not burgling anything.”
He leaned closer, wrapping her face with his hands, tilting her face upward, brushing the damp hair off of her forehead. “So what exactly are you doing?”
“I already told you.”
“Nervous breakdown?”
She nodded, swallowing hard, trying to keep a fresh batch of tears from running d
own her face. She shivered again.
He swore. “We should get you inside.”
“I’m fine—”
Before she could finish the rest of her sentence she found herself being scooped up off the floor of the stall, and lifted up into his arms. He cradled her against his chest, holding her like she weighed nothing, and even in her distressed state she found that... Well, she didn’t exactly know what. She only knew that it made her heart flutter a little bit.
He carried her out of the stall, then kept his hold on her as he reached out and slid the door closed behind them. Then he continued walking out of the barn, taking both of them back out into the rain. It was still pouring hard, each drop of rain splashing in the puddles around their feet. He continued on toward the house, holding her close as the rain pelted them both. She curled her fingers around his shirt, clinging to him, even though she knew he held her securely enough.
There was something comforting about being held like this. About him holding her up against his beating heart. It made her feel not so alone. Not quite so desolate.
Exhaustion flooded her, deep, down to her bones. And she sank into his hold, letting everything else melt away. Maybe she was going crazy, but at least Ace was here.
* * *
ACE BIT BACK a curse as he kicked open the front door of his house, keeping hold of Sierra as he maneuvered it back shut again. She was trembling, freezing and soaking wet in his arms, and about as substantial as a rag doll.
He should have known this was coming. That all of her determination, her spunk and her resilience were going to crumble eventually. It was one thing for him to deal with it. He wasn’t the one facing down nine months of pregnancy. He was also thirty-five, not twenty-five. Had already experienced some of the ways that being a parent could change you. Enough that he knew he wanted to do it again.
Sierra didn’t know any of that.
“I’m going to put you in the shower,” he said, his voice gruffer than he intended it to be.
He felt her nod against his chest as he continued up the stairs toward the master bedroom. He carried her into the bathroom, then set her down gingerly as he turned the water on.
