The Cowgirl's Little Secret

by Silver James

  Her cell phone buzzed with the chorus from Kelly Clarkson’s “Since U Been Gone.” Speak of the devil. She swiped her finger across the face of the phone, her lip curling far enough to wrinkle her nose as she answered, “What do you want?”

  Warm laughter filled her ear before Cord’s voice followed. “I think you miss me, sunshine.”

  “Don’t flatter yourself. What the heck did you promise CJ about Halloween?”

  Silence. She couldn’t even hear him breathe. He finally replied, his tone cautious. “Halloween?”

  “You’re coming to take him trick-or-treating, yes?”

  “Yes.” Cord drew out the word, making it sound like two syllables.

  “He wants to be a cowboy.”

  “And?” Again, two syllables.

  “Are you bringing him a horse?” Silence again. She was ready to light into him when she heard a deep inhalation.

  “Not exactly?”

  “Don’t answer a question with a question, Cord. What did you say?”

  “Ah...didn’t you just answer a—”

  “Shut up, Cord.” Her exasperation leaked out. Why did she have to be the only adult? “Just explain, okay?”

  “Okay. I told CJ that we could have a Halloween party at the ranch. We’d do a hayride and the kids could ride horses in the corral.”

  “Without asking me?” She made sure her voice sounded frigid. How dare he do this! The man kept insinuating himself into her son’s life. Despite all his sweet words and good intentions, she wondered at his real motivations. Deep down, she realized, she didn’t entirely trust Cord.

  “Uh...not exactly? I told him that we’d talk to you. And that if there wasn’t enough time to do it for Halloween, then we’d do it for his birthday.”

  A band tightened around Jolie’s chest, cutting off any air she might be able to suck into her lungs. His birthday? Cord was making plans for CJ’s birthday and hadn’t bothered to ask her? “You’re presuming a helluva lot.”

  “Bad Mommy. That’s a dollar in the swear jar.”

  She’d forgotten CJ was standing there listening to her. “I can’t talk now. We’ll discuss this later.”

  “By which you mean that you’ll dictate terms to me and expect me to fall in line. That’s not going to work anymore, Jolie. I’ve been patient, but now I want things official. I want to be CJ’s father legally. I’ll pick you up for dinner tonight. We’ll go somewhere quiet where we can talk this through.”

  Dead air. He’d hung up on her. Before she could hang up on him. She grabbed CJ’s hand without a word and turned toward the exit.

  “I don’t wanna go. Mommy.” He braced his feet and pulled back against her grip.

  People stared, some stopping and turning to watch. Jolie closed her eyes and breathed deeply to center herself. When had she become such a raging shrew? Easy answer—the moment Cord had walked back into her life. Even if he’d been strapped to a gurney and almost dead at the time. She knelt down and curled her fingers over CJ’s shoulders. “Look, Mommy is very angry at your father right now. I shouldn’t take it out on you, but do me a favor, okay? Just c’mon. No fighting. No whining.”

  His bottom lip quivered and Jolie wanted to bang her head against the nearest wall. Instead, she rose and held out her hand. CJ took it and she led him from the store. She had to get a grip on herself and control of the situation with Cord. She’d allowed him far too much leeway in her son’s life. And now he wanted it legal? He’d take complete control because that was what Barrons did. CJ was her son.

  Except...CJ was Cord’s, too. Guilt raised its head like some stupid Whac-a-mole. No matter how many times she clobbered the feeling with a sledgehammer, it just reappeared to suck out all her resolve.

  Emotion roiled inside her—a flash flood hitting a dam with a pounding rush. The water level kept rising, and one of two things was going to happen. Her emotions would spill over the top and slowly relieve some of the pressure or she’d drown in them. She couldn’t afford for either event to happen. She could not lose control. Not of CJ, which she would if Cord continued to press his parental rights. Not of her heart if the man continued to assault her with his easy smiles and sexy ways. Her life teetered on the edge of a precipice. Part of her wanted to snort at the analogy but she couldn’t. That was the way she felt.

  She had to make a stand. Sooner, not later.

  Fifteen

  As soon as she entered the restaurant, Jolie knew this was a stupid move on her part. She’d refused to let Cord pick her up, insisting she’d drive herself and meet him there. The stupid part was letting him pick the restaurant—his compromise to her unyielding “no” and for stalling this meeting until after Halloween. He’d shown up to take her to dinner the night before Halloween but she’d dodged a confrontation by taking an extra shift at work.

  Then Cord had arrived Halloween evening to take the kids trick-or-treating, and according to Mrs. Corcoran, he’d come with a compromise—a handmade stick horse for CJ to “ride.” She’d volunteered for extra duty at the ER with Operation X-ray as an excuse to avoid Cord. As community outreach, Trauma One offered to X-ray Halloween candy for hidden dangers. She had plausible deniability, since that volunteer time was important. She wasn’t afraid to face him. Not at all.

  The host led her on a winding trail through tables filled with couples. This was so not a family restaurant. The thought of CJ eating here sent cold chills through her. This was a date place—for men out to impress their ladies, for parents to get away from the kids to remember they could still be in love. Low lights, soft music, a place steeped in romance.

  Pristine white cloths draped the tables. Crystal and silver gleamed in flickering candlelight. Delicate but aromatic flowers flowed from sparkling vases on each table. Cord was already there, sitting at a table in a secluded corner. He stood as soon as he saw her. He appeared stoic. Dang, but the man had some kind of poker face. She’d always hated that about him—all the Barron brothers, in fact. Dealing with them had taught her, though. She continued to work on her own demeanor.

  Something flickered in his eyes as she neared. She did her best to ignore it, but little frissons of awareness skittered across her skin. Even wary, she wanted him. She always had. Candlelight danced across his face. It pasted shadows where none should be. And it added light to places that should have been dark.

  Cord nodded to the host and the man veered away, leaving her on her own to face him. He gracefully held her chair, scooting it beneath her thighs as she sat. He bent while doing so and brushed his cheek across her hair.

  “You’re beautiful.”

  The words whispered across her consciousness, leaving goose bumps on her psyche. No. No, no, no, no. She stiffened her spine and raised her chin. She would not succumb to Mr. Cowboy Sexy, even if he did look good enough for dessert. As he settled back into his chair, she studied him. She could see the candle flame in the depths of his burned-honey eyes. He wore his hair shorter now, a result of part of it being shaved in the hospital, but it was growing out. A dark comma accented his forehead while shadows defined the planes of his face.

  No one would doubt Cord and his brothers were related. Somehow, though, he’d ended up with slightly softer features. He was still rugged, with the dark black hair and golden-brown eyes of his siblings. They were all handsome as sin and just as irresistible to the female population. Cord was more relaxed than the others, except maybe Chase. Chase was a horse of a totally different color, living only for wine, women and song. She pitied any woman insane enough to get involved with him. Heck, she was insane to be sitting here with Cord, and he was the nice brother. What did that tell the world about the Barrons?

  “A penny for your thoughts.”

  His husky voice vibrated over her skin and she tensed up. She needed to be on her guard, not sitting here daydreaming about how sexy this
man was. He was not above using that—or any other advantage he might gain—against her. They had things to settle here and now. She could not lose sight of that.

  “I’m not sure you want to know.”

  “That’s where you’d be wrong, Jolie. I want to know everything about you.”

  “According to you, you already do.”

  The corner of his mouth quirked in that devil-may-care grin that once melted her heart. Over and over and over again. Not anymore. She arched a brow in response and he laughed. Reaching across the table, his big hand enveloped hers. She fought the urge to turn hers palm up and twine her fingers with his. Not even the waiter’s appearance provided enough of a diversion for her to pull away.

  Arrogant as always, Cord ordered for both of them. The fact that he picked the entrée she would have chosen only served to make her angrier, and reinforce the idea he did know her far better than he should.

  His expression smoothed out into that blank poker face the Barrons were infamous for. “You’re the one who said you wanted to talk to me back before Halloween—and you’ve avoided me for over a week now. I want to talk about Thanksgiving. Every time I bring up the subject, you shut me down.”

  Or she diverted him. He’d been talking about Thanksgiving for almost a month. Luckily, the man was easy. A few kisses and caresses and they were off to bed for some fantastic sex. Cord couldn’t think beyond the sexy bits. Jolie knew getting intimate was a bad idea but she couldn’t seem to help herself. He was still the only man who made her toes curl with a kiss. But he wanted more than sex. He’d been clear about that from the moment he’d discovered CJ was his. He’d wanted joint custody but she didn’t. CJ was hers and had been for his whole life. The idea of giving up any control at all terrified her.

  Cord squeezed her hand, pulling her attention from the serious intent in his eyes to the way he held her hand—with strength and gentleness. Too bad he hadn’t handled her heart the same way.

  “This is not the time or the place, Cord.”

  “Wrong. This is the time and place because we’re both here.”

  “I can get up and leave anytime I want.”

  “Yes. You can.” He released her hand, leaned back in his chair and stared at her. Temper glinted in his eyes now. “Are you going to run forever?”

  Her nostrils flared and her eyes narrowed. “Wow. You just had to go there, didn’t you?” She leaned forward, forearms braced on the table. “I’m not the one who ran.”

  Cord smirked. It was that or reach across the table and shake her until her teeth rattled. He’d never laid a hand on a woman in anger and he wasn’t about to start now. “Pot, kettle, sweetheart.” He watched her throat work as she swallowed. Hard. He’d hit the mark with that one. “We both ran. I’ve admitted I was stupid. You, on the other hand—”

  “What about me?” She interrupted him, her green eyes flashing despite the low lights in the restaurant. Oh, yeah. She was pissed now.

  “You hid my son from me.” The thought still rankled. He’d tried in the past few months to understand her motivations, to forgive her. Getting to know CJ and spending time with Jolie had helped a long way toward that. Until now. Cord didn’t understand why she was being so stubborn—why she was shoving him away and blocking his right to acknowledge his son.

  “So what? You didn’t deserve him.”

  She flung the words like a shotgun blast, and they blew a hole in his heart. “You didn’t exactly give me a chance, did you?” He choked back his hurt and anger, keeping his voice soft, with no inflection. What the hell had gotten into her? “He is my son, Jolie. I have the results from the paternity test.”

  Her mouth dropped open as her eyes rounded in shock. “You went behind my back? You ran a test on him without my permission?”

  “I knew from the moment I saw him he was mine. The DNA test is for the lawyers. To cover the legal bases.”

  “Lawyers?” She spit the word out like a bitter pill—or maybe he was the only one who felt that way. He didn’t want to go to court, but Jolie was very quickly leaving him little choice in the matter. Cyrus, as soon as he had found out, made threats to do things his way. Chance would keep things on an even keel—and civil. Cyrus wouldn’t.

  The sommelier arrived and served their wine with no fanfare. He’d obviously picked up on their mood. Their waiter slid in right behind him, efficiently depositing their salads and moving away without a word.

  Cord sipped his wine, watching her over the rim of the crystal flute. She sat so rigid her muscles were almost spasming. Her hands were hidden in her lap, but he’d lay odds they were clasped tightly together. He wanted to gather her into his arms, kissing her until she let go, until she admitted he was right. He wanted her, dammit. And CJ. They could be a family. He was positive of it. He just needed Jolie to understand. And to agree. He reached into his jacket pocket and fingered the velvet box hidden there. He’d hoped to convince her they could be a family, and he’d taken to carrying the ring as a good luck charm. And if he were honest, he’d admit he was considering proposing tonight, if things went his way.

  All he had to do was chip away at her anger. He’d already breached her defenses where making love was concerned. She desired him as much as he wanted her. He had her body. Now he wanted her heart, and he’d solemnly promised himself he’d take far better care of that treasure than he had the first time. Once Jolie agreed to marriage, they were a done deal—one Cyrus had no control over.

  He swallowed his anger with the next sip of wine and allowed a fleeting smile to show as she attacked her salad, stabbing innocent greens with a fork. Cord was positive she was picturing that fork buried over and over in his chest. Setting his wine aside, he picked up his fork and ate calmly, a counterpoint to her frenzy she wouldn’t appreciate. That was all part of his plan. He had to keep her off balance to get what he wanted. Her. CJ. A life and family together.

  “Can we talk about Thanksgiving, Jolie? Why don’t you and CJ come out to the ranch? Cassie and Miz Beth are pulling out all the stops so we can have a real family get-together. If you’re worried about my old man, don’t be. As soon as Cassie started organizing a family dinner, he made plans to fly to Vegas. He’ll be at the Crown Casino for the long weekend.”

  He offered what he hoped was a disarming grin. “Heck, Clay is coming into town for it. He’s bringing his speechwriter to work on campaign stuff, but he’ll be there. Cassie even managed to lure Chase back to town, assuming he doesn’t back out at the last minute.” He watched her but couldn’t decide her mood.

  Jolie paused in her chewing to offer him another glare before returning her gaze to her plate. He leaned over the table and lowered his voice to a conspiratorial undertone. “Don’t tell anyone, but I think Cyrus is actually afraid of Cassie.” He bit back laughter when she glanced up, startled. He winked and continued, “I know the rest of us are. As for Cyrus, Cash thinks he has a showgirl on speed dial, and with Chase back here for Thanksgiving, the old man will have free rein.”

  A busboy appeared and whisked their used plates and utensils away while refilling water glasses. Moments later, the waiter arrived and served their entrées. The man waited stoically while he and Jolie sampled a taste and nodded their satisfaction. Cord bit back a sigh. He would have taken her to Cattlemen’s for dinner, but this was her sort of restaurant, and honestly, he wanted to impress her. Just because he preferred jeans and boots didn’t mean he couldn’t dress up. Like all the Barrons, he could move in what he called the silk-panty social circles. The Barrons commanded incredible wealth. J. Rand Davis did, too. Hell, the man had written a check for half a million dollars to Cord’s sister-in-law, drawn on his personal account. Cord was still chapped that J. Rand had warned him away from Jolie that day.

  He didn’t like where his thoughts were headed, so he reined them in and concentrated on the problem at hand. Jolie continued to eat, ignor
ing him again. He was tired of playing that game. “What happened to you?”

  Her head snapped up and she glared at him. Her “laser death stare” was probably lethal to anyone but him. He thought the look was adorable, but he hid his smile.

  “What happened to me? I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  “I think you do.” He leaned forward again and this time dropped his voice to a husky whisper. “What happened to the cowgirl who used to ride bareback and take her horse swimming in the lake? Where’s the girl who sat in the bleachers cheering me on at the rodeo?”

  Her face paled, but she held his gaze. “You, Cord. That’s what happened to me. You walked in, told me you were done and walked out. That girl no longer exists.”

  Jolie’s words sliced his heart as she’d meant them to. He bit back the retort forming on his tongue, breathing through the emotional pain as he continued to watch her. As he knew she would, she dropped her gaze. Neither of them truly had the high moral ground in this thing between them. “That’s too bad. She was special.”

  He reached for the wine bottle and refilled their glasses. Jolie gulped hers, looking for liquid courage. He sipped again, needing to keep his wits about him. He’d worked too hard to nurture the tiny sprouts of feelings she’d developed for him to ruin it by snapping back at her. He’d already done damage tonight with his sharp retorts, which became obvious when he watched her eyes skitter back and forth as she looked anywhere but him. He softened his voice to add, “She still is.”

  “What are you doing, Cord?”

  “Trying to talk to you. About CJ. About us.”

  “I don’t want to talk.”