The One (Book 1, of The Wilde Brothers, A Contemporary Western Romance)

by Eckhart, Lorhainne

  “You like to pretend you’re so strong, so independent, and you keep everyone away at arm’s length, but you’re not that tough,” he said. “I see through this mask and the role you play for everyone.”

  She shut her eyes and wouldn’t look at him, and she scraped her hand over his. “Joe, don’t. You’re with someone else, and my heart can’t take that. I bleed, I love, and I get hurt over and over, and I can’t be. You can’t be this nice to me, because you make me think there’s more between us, and I…”

  He didn’t let her finish as he pressed his lips to hers, touching his tongue to her lips. He felt her hesitate, hearing her breath as she allowed him, after a second, to kiss her. When he pulled away, she opened her eyes, showing him her confusion and worry along with a sheen of tears.

  “I’m not getting married to Sara, because you were right,” he said. “I didn’t love her.”

  She was frowning again. “Why would you want to marry a woman you don’t love?”

  “Because it was safer. I didn’t want to love a woman so much again that when she died, she’d take a part of me with her like Evie did. This time, I knew I wouldn’t survive.”

  She was breathing heavily, thinking, and he could see her mind tossing over a dozen different conclusions. He doubted any of them were right.

  “I love you, but I didn’t know it until I had you under me and I tasted you, and then you were on me,” he said. “I realized it when I was there in the hospital, that I had left you behind. I had chosen between my son and you when I didn’t want to make a choice at all. I left you, and I’m sorry.”

  She reached up and touched his cheek, her hand sliding into his hair. “It wasn’t a choice, Joe. You had to go. I wouldn’t have let you stay. I had to take the horses back. It wasn’t your fault.”

  He stepped back and dropped his hands, watching her as she leaned against the wall, still in the same clothes they’d started out in two days ago. Her hair was a mess, her face covered in smudges, dirt, and mud. He scooped her up in his arms, and she winced.

  “Did I hurt you?” he asked. He held her tight, and she rested her head on his shoulder.

  “No, I’m just sore. I meant to have a hot shower, but I laid my head down for a second and fell asleep.”

  Joe started walking down the hall. He flicked on the light in the bathroom and set her down beside the tub.

  “What are you doing?” she asked as he turned on the water and then kicked off his boots.

  “Getting you in the shower,” he answered.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Joe didn’t just get her in the shower after taking off all her clothes—he stripped off his own and joined her under the hot spray. He turned her around and ran his hands over her back. “You’re going to have some nice bruises here and here,” he said, touching her hip and shoulder. He turned her with all the gentleness she didn’t expect and slid his hand into her hair, tilting her head back under the water.

  It felt so good, the warmth of the water running in her hair and the warmth of his skin against her chest. She shut her eyes and then opened them when his hands slipped away as he reached for the shampoo and poured some into his hand, running it over her hair and scrubbing the itch. It felt so good.

  “You don’t need to wash my hair,” she said, but she didn’t mean it and hoped he wouldn’t take his hands off her ever.

  “Yeah, I can see how you really mean that,” he replied, laughing his low, sexy laugh as he leaned her head back to rinse out the shampoo.

  He ran the bar of soap over every inch of her, kneeling down to do her feet, asking her to lift each foot as she leaned on his wide shoulders. When he stood up, he ran his hand over her skin, up her thighs, touching her in the most intimate of places and then setting his hands on her waist. He pulled her to him, and she could feel every inch of his desire for her. He turned, trading places with her under the spray, holding her close as he dunked his head under the nozzle, too low for a man of his height.

  He touched his lips to hers and said, “My turn. I’ll be quick.” He scrubbed his head with shampoo, rinsing it while she grabbed the soap and started running it over his chest, loving the feel of the dark hair that covered it.

  The man was amazing with clothes on. With them off, he was godlike.

  He set his hand over hers, taking the soap bar. “I’ll finish so we can get out of here before it gets cold.”

  He washed himself quickly, rinsing and turning off the water. He lifted Margaret out of the tub, setting her down and drying her with a towel, taking a closer look at her body as he dried her breasts, her stomach, her legs, taking his time. Only once did she try to cover her breasts with her hands, but he said, “No,” moving her hand away and setting his mouth to her nipple.

  Margaret gasped and thought her knees would give way as he pressed her against the wall. He pulled away long enough to run the towel over his thick, dark hair and over his body, dumping it on the ground before lifting her in his arms and carrying her to bed, which was a rumpled mess. He set her down with her wet hair on the pillow and moved on top of her.

  She instantly moved her legs apart, and he moved his hand between them, touching her and watching her. She took in his expression, which was on fire for her. She ran her hands over his wide, broad shoulders, his perfectly sculpted chest. There was no beer gut on this man, and he had a set of abs. She wondered what he did to keep himself in such good shape. He guided her legs around his waist and leaned over her.

  She felt him, so close, entering her slowly. He held himself still, and she said, “Joe, I’m not on birth control.” She gasped.

  He clenched his teeth and then smiled as he moved and said, “Yeah, I figured as much.” He moved again. “I don’t plan on letting it matter.”

  “Joe,” she said, right before he set his mouth on hers and deepened the kiss. He moved faster, and she couldn’t hold back as he moved again, becoming a part of her and touching her in a way no other man ever had. She screamed out his name as she felt herself lose control and tumble completely over the edge.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Joe woke with the light streaming in the bedroom window and a woman draped half over him. Margaret was sound asleep, and he smiled at how many times they each had awoken during the night. He’d made love to her three times. The last time, he had set her on top of him and let her ride as he played with her breasts, which he’d pictured a hundred times in his head. He had never imagined they would be this perfect.

  He ran his hand over her head, and she groaned, running her own hand over his chest and lower. “Hey, good morning,” he said.

  She blinked and looked up him with a lazy contentedness he’d never seen in her eyes before. She rested her chin on his chest and took a deep breath. “We should go see Ryan,” she said.

  He ran his hand over her dark, tangled hair, just watching her. When she sucked in her lower lip nervously, he could tell she was starting to pull away.

  “We will,” he said, running his hand over her back and down lower. “Are you sore?”

  He smiled when she blushed, and he rolled her over, the sheets tangling around them. His cell phone buzzed, and he dropped his head and groaned, “Great timing.”

  “Go answer it, Joe,” Margaret urged him. “It could be important.”

  Joe slipped out of bed and went into the bathroom, where his clothes were still in a heap on the floor. He pulled the cell phone from his pocket. “Yeah?” he said.

  “It’s Logan. Just checking to see if you got lost.”

  Joe didn’t miss the hint of mischief in his brother’s voice. “How’s Ryan?” he asked. He could hear the bed squeak and then Margaret’s footsteps on the floor.

  “He’s wondering what happened to his dad. He’s kind of worried. I think he believes you may have taken off and married that blonde who left her handprint on your face.”

  Joe heard the floor squeak behind him and watched as Margaret tied a blue housecoat closed. “Tell him I’m with Margare
t and we’ll be up soon.”

  “Oh,” his brother said with a chuckle. “Sorry to wake you.”

  Joe hung up and noticed the blush rise on Margaret’s face as he stood naked in her house in front of her. He stepped closer to her. “Ready to go see Ryan?”

  She smiled with such shyness that he wanted to laugh at her. “Just need to feed the horses first, and you need to get some clean clothes,” she said, setting her hand playfully on his chest.

  He set his over hers, pulling her closer. “I do, so I guess we’d best hurry,” he agreed. He wrapped his arms around her waist and lifted her, giving her a proper good-morning kiss.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Joe walked hand in hand with Margaret into the hospital. He didn’t miss the way she had tensed the closer they got or the way she seemed to be sweating as they stepped through the doors. He was positive that at one time, she would have been as comfortable here as he was on his spread, milling lumber. “You okay?” he asked, looking down at her and squeezing her hand as she leaned closer to him.

  “Yeah. You know, it’s silly,” she said. She darted a quick glance at him and then away, and although she tried, she couldn’t hide her discomfort from him.

  “It’s not silly. It was a pretty big deal, Margaret, and it gutted you, so give yourself a break.”

  He saw the lump in her throat move as she swallowed and blinked rapidly. He pulled her into his arms when he reached the elevator bank and punched the button, kissing the top of her head and just holding her while she trembled and then took a deep breath, seeming to pull herself together.

  When the elevator doors opened, he put his arm around her and walked her in. She looked so cute with her dark hair in a ponytail. He could see the freckles on her nose, and he loved that she didn’t have a stitch of makeup on. With her complexion, she didn’t need it.

  The elevator dinged on the second floor, and the door opened. Two doctors stepped in, and Joe could feel Margaret stiffen, so he tightened his arm around her, squeezing her shoulder. She glanced his way but didn’t look at him. A short ride later, on the third floor, he nudged her out of the elevator.

  She took a deep breath. “So which room is Ryan in?” she asked.

  “The first room, right here.” He went to push open the door, his arm still around Margaret, when she slid around and set her hand on his chest, looking up at him.

  “Joe, what are we going to tell Ryan?” she said.

  For a minute, she looked a little panicked, and he wanted to laugh until he felt her hand shaking again on his chest. “It’ll be fine. Relax,” he said. “What are you worried about?”

  “Well, last Ryan knew, you were marrying Sara. Did you tell him it was off? Although he likes me, how do you think he’s going to react?” She was looking at him with wide eyes and a helpless expression.

  “I think you’re not giving my kid enough credit. I think this is exactly what he needs to hear. We’re together now. He’ll be happy.”

  “Well, maybe we should talk first about exactly what this ‘together’ looks like,” she said.

  What the hell was she doing? They had already settled this, so why was she stirring things up? For a minute, he was positive she was so bent on self-destruction that she was deliberately trying to start a fight with him. “What are you doing? We’ve already settled this. I love you, and you love me. End of story, or is there something more? Have you decided that a struggling millworker who takes jobs here and there to make ends meet isn’t enough for you? I’m not a rich man. My bank balance the end of each month is close to zero. I’ve learned to fix things myself because I don’t have money to throw around. Maybe we should have talked about that.”

  She moved back, pulling her hand away as if he had slapped her. She firmed her lips and set her jaw, and there was a spark in her eyes that let him know she was now good and mad. “I’m not some moneygrubber. I don’t care if you have nothing. Money is nice, but it’s not what drives me or what I’m looking for, and it can’t make you happy.”

  “That’s interesting you would say that, considering I watched you and your mother fighting over just that thing, good ol’ money, the day you buried your grandfather,” he said. He wanted to take it back right away.

  “What?” she said. Before she could add anything else, Ryan’s door opened and Logan gave him a look as if he’d heard everything.

  “Ryan’s been waiting for you two. Hey, Margaret, how’re you feeling?” he said.

  She seemed to need a minute to pull herself together. She shook her head, glanced down the hallway, and then into the room at Ryan. She gave Joe her back and said to Logan, “I’m fine, just a little sore, but I’ll be good as new in a few days. I never got a chance to thank you for coming to help me. I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t shown up when you did. Thanks for looking after the horses, too.”

  Logan gave her one of his flirty smiles and winked at her, and Joe wanted to pop him one. “You’re welcome, but I’m pretty sure you would have made it. You’re a capable woman. Haven’t seen too many with the grit and determination you have. I admire that. I was just glad I could help a lovely lady like you.”

  Joe felt her instantly soften to Logan, and he wanted to reach over and shake his brother. Didn’t he realize Margaret was his?

  “Hey, Ryan. How are you feeling, honey?” Margaret said, ducking under Logan’s arm and going to Ryan’s side.

  When Joe tried to step into the room, Logan blocked his way. “We could hear you two arguing. What gives?” he said.

  Joe was still mad at his big brother, still irritated with Margaret and his own inability to check his mouth. What could ever have possessed him to say what he did? “She’s not available,” he said, jabbing his finger into his brother’s chest.

  Logan allowed a teasing smile to touch his lips. “Oh, man, are you in trouble,” he said. He stepped back, but before Joe could step past him, he said, “Word of advice, there, little brother. If you want this woman, you need to respect her. What I heard of that little bit,” he shook his head, “that was really stupid.”

  Joe growled and stepped around his brother. Ryan’s gaze immediately went from Margaret to him. His face was still pale, with some bruising on his forehead and cheek. Margaret was reading the chart and ignoring Joe. “How are you feeling this morning?” he asked.

  “Sore—and hungry. Dad, when are they going to let me have some real food?”

  Margaret seemed to be satisfied with what she had read and closed up the chart. She set it back at the foot of the bed. “I’ll talk to them. I don’t see why you can’t have something today. What do you want?”

  “I want a burger, fries, a milkshake…” he started as his eyes got big and hopeful.

  “Yeah, that’s not going to happen, Ryan,” Margaret said. “You had a major trauma. They’ll probably let you have something solid and move off Jell-O today.” She didn’t look at Joe, and he noticed how she moved to the other side of the bed, away from him.

  “Ryan, I wanted to apologize,” Joe started, and Margaret’s gaze became worried as she watched him, obviously nervous about what he was going to say. “Sara and I aren’t getting married. I shouldn’t have asked her, and I did it only because I thought you needed a mother. That wasn’t fair of me.”

  “I don’t need a mother. Are you still dating her?” Ryan added.

  “No. We’re done. You won’t be seeing her again.”

  He breathed a sigh of relief, and then he looked worried again. “But you’re still dating. Are you going to look for someone else online?”

  “No, my online days are over,” Joe said, watching as Margaret rolled her eyes. Well, what did she expect him to say?

  “Well, that’s good,” Ryan said.

  “What if I met someone you really like?” Joe began. He watched the way Ryan looked away as if disappointed, expecting the worst. What if he’d been wrong? He knew Ryan liked Margaret a lot, but maybe he wasn’t ready for his father to date at all. For a
minute, Joe relived the choice he had made, leaving Margaret alone with the horses as he hopped into the chopper with his son. It was a choice he never thought he’d have to make again.

  “You know what, Ryan?” Margaret set her hand on his arm before Joe could say another word. “I don’t think you’re going to have to worry about your dad bringing someone home any time soon.”

  Ryan looked to her with relief, and then he said, “Is Storm okay?”

  Margaret gave Joe a warning glance, and Joe rocked back on his heels. He couldn’t believe Ryan wasn’t jumping up and down, excited that he and Margaret were together. It sickened him when he realized his son held the power to come between him and Margaret.

  “Storm is fine. He’s not hurt. But, Ryan, that was a very foolish thing to do. You could have been killed, and this isn’t just about the fact that you took off on Storm, who you had no business riding. You took off in the dead of night, in circumstances that had you running on pure emotion. Didn’t we go over this? How did you get him saddled, anyway, without me hearing?”

  Ryan flushed, and it was the first bit of color Joe had seen in his face since the accident. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking. I was mad, and I was tired of listening to Dad and Sara in his room. It hurt that he had picked her over me.”

  Joe felt himself reeling, and he had the good grace to blush. He felt Logan watching him, and when he glanced over and shrugged, his brother shook his head as if he should have known better.

  “I didn’t think, I just snuck in. I was scared, but I saddled him, remembering how you were with him. You didn’t let your fear show, and I tried to do what you did. I only thought about leaving. I didn’t think of where I was going, just rode and rode for hours, and I fell off when Storm spooked. All I could think about was that I didn’t think Dad loved me.” He sounded so hurt that Joe wondered what he had done to make his son believe that.