Wanted--Texas Daddy

by Cathy Gillen Thacker

  For a moment, she looked as if she might hazard a guess, then pulled back and said warily, “Haven’t a clue. So suppose you tell me, cowboy.”

  Once again, all the barriers around her heart were up.

  He smiled. Her feistiness didn’t deter him in the slightest. He ambled toward her, slowly and purposefully, then said, “I’m here to claim our wedding night.”

  Chapter Six

  Sage jerked in a quavering breath. “That’s really funny, Nick.”

  He let his gaze drift over her, taking in her sweet lusciousness from head to toe. She had put on a pair of soft gray leggings that ended just below her knee, leaving her shapely calves, trim ankles and delicate bare feet in full view.

  An oversize blue denim shirt fell past her hips, disguising the budding changes in her lithe body nearly as well as the chef’s coats she wore to work.

  Her hair was still damp, falling in silky dark gold waves to her shoulders. Her lips bare and soft and mutinous.

  He could hardly blame her for acting guarded. Spiriting her off for an unexpected honeymoon, which he stupidly hadn’t planned, and then ditching her early the next morning to go to work had not been cool. Regret lashed through him. She’d tried to hide it but he’d seen the stricken look on her face. The forty-eight hours since the wedding had been a total and utter disaster. And he had no one to blame but himself.

  But he had every intention of making it up to her. Right here. Right now.

  He spread his arms wide on either side of him, forcing himself to be the gentleman he had been raised to be. “I’m not joking.”

  Her chin lifted indignantly. “Well, you should be. Because need I remind you?” The color in her cheeks deepened. “We aren’t really joined in the state of holy matrimony, at least not in the usual sense.”

  “Which ought to make this all the more entertaining. Since—” he let his gaze drop to the nipples pearling beneath the soft fabric of her shirt “—we won’t be constrained in any way.”

  “Except one.” She walked over to examine the bottles of sparkling apple juice and water, on ice. She opened the fruit beverage and poured some into two of the champagne flutes he had provided. Walking over to where he stood, she handed him one. “I’m really not in the mood for any faux romance.”

  Wow, she was prickly tonight. Pregnancy hormones? Or pissed-off woman? Luckily, he was braced for both.

  “Neither am I.” He took their empty glasses and set them aside. “Still, I think it’s important to get back in the saddle as soon as possible, and replace some not-so-great recollections with new and improved memories.”

  Wrapping one arm around her waist, he hauled her closer. Dropped his head and kissed her neck.

  He murmured, “Perhaps some mood music?” Reaching for his phone, he scrolled down the playlist. Found the song that made her laugh every time.

  The sound of Marvin Gaye’s “Let’s Get It On” filled her apartment. She groaned and dropped her head comically to the width of his shoulder. “No.”

  He searched some more. Hit the more upbeat “Lookin’ For A Good Time” by Lady Antebellum.

  She chuckled in defiance and glided away from him. Propping both her fists on her luscious hips, she said, “I’m sensing a theme here.”

  So was he. He two-stepped closer. “And the answer is...?”

  Wary stubbornness glittered in her eyes. “No...”

  Of course that was her answer.

  Because she knew if she relented, let the guard around her heart down just a little bit, what would happen. What he had long hoped would happen.

  Determined to end the unexpected tension that had sprung up between them, he hit Stop and then Play again.

  The first strains of John Legend’s “All Of Me” floated in the air. The beauty of the music brought forth tears. Something he had seen before. And remembered.

  She caught her breath, and he knew he had hit a home run. Wordlessly, he closed the distance between them and took her hand.

  The beautiful music surrounded them. She melted against him as he wrapped her in his arms again.

  He’d half expected her to keep holding back on him, out of both residual anger and disappointment, and her ever-present need to keep them from getting too close. But she wreathed her arms around his neck, opened her mouth to the plundering pressure of his and let her body soften against him.

  He’d thought the times they had made love, up to now, had been sweet and incredibly satisfying. But those times were nothing compared to this, as he tangled his hands in the silky dampness of her hair, and she kissed him back with a wildness beyond his most erotic dreams.

  She trembled in his arms, and he moved his lips to the lobe of her ear, the hollow beneath. “Let’s go to bed,” she whispered.

  Not an invitation he would refuse. Keeping his arms around her, he danced her slowly backward into her bedroom, kissing her all the while. Her lips were ravenous against his, and for once she didn’t try to hide how she felt. Nor, as she moaned softly and curled up against him even more, did he.

  And yet, he thought, as the sweet urgency of desire swept through him, making love with Sage had never been a simple thing. Much as she might wish it so. By her own admission, she had kept the need in her locked tightly away. And put her own romantic yearnings aside, too.

  Their marriage was supposed to be a means to an end, nothing more.

  Yet, as he felt the soft surrender of her body pressed against the rock-hard demand of his, their union felt all too real.

  And that gave him pause.

  He had been raised to never take advantage. To put his cards on the table and let the chips fall where they may. And he knew he had deceived her about the depth of his feelings from the very first. He lifted his head and looked into her eyes. “You know I never meant to mislead you,” he began.

  She bent her head and concentrated on unbuttoning his shirt. “You haven’t.”

  He tried again as she opened the fabric and ran her hands lovingly over his chest. “Our relationship—”

  Her hands dropped to his belt. “Is exactly the way we want it to be,” she purred.

  * * *

  SAGE DIDN’T UNDERSTAND what was with Nick tonight. All she did know was that she did not want to see the guilt and regret suddenly reflected in his deep blue eyes. Any more than she wanted to feel the conflict that had been rising up within herself since the moment they had said their I Do’s.

  It was as if everything had changed. And nothing had changed. And she wanted things that were both frustratingly undefined, and just out of reach. She wanted them to be together for more than just business. Or their baby. She wanted them to love each other with wild romantic abandon, and make a commitment to each other that lasted the rest of their lives.

  But this was not what they had promised each other. And she did not want Nick to feel as trapped—by her demands—as Terrence had.

  So she returned to the things that bound her and Nick together from the very first. Friendship and fun, explosive sex.

  Slipping back into the role of carefree vixen, she eased his pants away from his waist. Or tried. He caught her palms in his, and held them out on either side of her. Eyes gleaming, he decreed, “Ladies first.”

  She both hated and loved it when he took charge like this. It made her feel far too vulnerable, too ripe for his taking. Her breath caught in her throat. “Nick...”

  Too late, he had let go of her wrists and was already busy divesting her of her shirt and stretchy cotton bra. With her breasts bared to his view, he looked his fill, in a way that had her nipples crowning all the more.

  Sexy grin widening, he stripped her leggings and panties down her legs. Knowing by now it was hopeless to fight it—she would be battling against the flame of desire that could only be doused one way—she rested
her hands on his shoulders and stepped out of both.

  Then, instead of rising, he wrapped his arms around her and pressed his lips against her for the most thrilling of kisses. Her knees buckled, just like that. He chuckled in masculine satisfaction, and kept right on exploring. While she held on for dear life, he dallied provocatively, finding her every sweet spot with ease. Trying not to think about what the newly proprietary nature of his lovemaking meant, or how close she was to surrendering every ounce of her fast-dwindling independence, Sage drew in a shuddering breath. Aware she felt both ravished and cherished. “Nick...” My Lord, Nick!

  Eyes glimmering with mischief, he gave her body one last affectionate squeeze, then rose. “You’re probably right,” he teased, “we do need to get more comfortable.”

  Not exactly where she’d been going. But...who was she to quibble with success? Or near success, anyway?

  Her insides melting like butter on a hot stove, Sage watched him hungrily. Tall frame radiating barely leashed energy, Nick dispensed with his own clothes, shifted her backward and stretched out next to her on the bed.

  “Now...where were we?” he growled.

  As if he didn’t know.

  “I think it’s my turn, cowboy.” In an effort to regain control, she attempted to flip him onto his back. To no avail. It was like budging a boulder. A very hard, very big boulder of intense male energy.

  She swallowed as right before her eyes, his arousal grew. “If you’re ready...”

  “We’re taking our time.” A decision, not a request.

  Sage gulped. What was going on with him? “Nick.” She tried again to assert some control.

  “Sage.” He mimicked her low tone perfectly.

  Her throat went even drier.

  “Let me.”

  Two words. One indomitable, hungry, oh-so-male look. And she opened herself up to him like a flower in the spring.

  He kissed his way up and down, over every inch of her body.

  When she came apart in his hands way too soon, he held her until the aftershocks stopped, then moved upward, as resolute and unstoppable as the general of a conquering army. Palms beneath her hips, he rested his weight on his knees. Lifting her gently, brought her up flush against him.

  Just that quickly, she found heaven.

  She could feel his body pulsing with the same fierce, unquenchable need she had seen etched on his face, as they began to kiss again. Passionately at first. Then more gently. She arched against him in abject surrender. His mouth moved inexorably over hers, tempting, teasing, claiming. She moaned as he gave another kiss, more soulful and exciting than the last. And then, without warning, he brought her closer still, and they were one. Moving toward a single goal, climbing ever higher. Until unable to help herself, she soared over the edge, this time taking him with her.

  Long moments passed, as they continued to hold each other in replete silence. Shuddering. The sound of their ragged breaths still meshing, their heartbeats slowing in unison.

  Nick ducked his head. As if savoring the way she felt in his arms. The essence that was just her.

  Sage found herself doing the same.

  She didn’t want to want her new “husband” with this incredible, soul-deep intensity.

  But she did.

  She didn’t want to need him in ways that she sensed could never be undone.

  And yet she did. And that could be the ruin of them both.

  * * *

  FOR LONG MOMENTS AFTER, Nick and Sage snuggled close. As always, neither of them was in any hurry to move away and Sage felt the surge of contentment and inner peace that only he could give.

  Yet as he stroked her hair and continued to hold her close, Sage could sense something was on Nick’s mind. Finally, he asked, “Feeling better?”

  Sage cuddled closer, the heat from his body still engulfing hers. She knew the effective businessman in Nick liked to identify and address problems before they snowballed out of control, but it unnerved her when he put the same skill set to their relationship. Hoping to avoid any serious talk, she lifted her head. Smiling. Shrugged. “What makes you think I wasn’t okay when you got here?”

  He held her eyes. “Call it ‘husbandly’ intuition.”

  His candid words unsettled her in a way she didn’t expect. Maybe because, deep down, a part of her wished that they did have the potential for something more than friendship. Passion. And now a child they would share, and love, together.

  But the boundaries in their relationship had been established early on. And there was no sense in fixing what wasn’t broken, she told herself sternly. Especially now, with so much at stake.

  She eased from the bed, and to keep them from making love again when she was suddenly feeling so vulnerable, began to dress. “I admit I’ve been feeling a little depressed.”

  His dark brow furrowed. “How come?”

  Sage turned away from his searching gaze, as always leery of revealing too much. “Luisa calls it the post-wedding blues. She says it’s the way all brides feel after the big day and the honeymoon, or in our case, the one that wasn’t.”

  Reluctantly, Nick followed her lead. Putting the charcoal gray suit pants and shirt on.

  Tenderness and understanding radiated in his gaze. “Listen, I know the past forty-eight hours haven’t been the best, but I promise, I’ll make it up to you.”

  She bet he would. The way he just had. In bed.

  As for the rest...

  His business was going to have to continue to take priority for him. As would the oft-unexpected rigors of her pregnancy for her.

  Which meant, married or not, she couldn’t let herself expect more—from either of them.

  She walked into the other room of her apartment and headed for the small but well-outfitted kitchen.

  He took a seat at the island and watched her move about the work area, doing what she always did when she was stressed-out. Cook.

  Nick rested his forearms on the granite countertop. “So what is the cure for the post-wedding blues supposed to be?” he asked, in that low, husky voice that melted her from the inside out.

  Sage got out a loaf of sourdough, ham, eggs, spinach, onion, gruyere and cream. “Settling into normal married life, realizing that it can be even more wonderful and magical than the ceremony.”

  He considered Luisa’s theory dubiously. “Sounds like a lot of pressure on day-to-day living.”

  Which they both knew, especially when they weren’t together, could be as dull as watching paint dry.

  “My thoughts exactly. The thing is, I don’t know how we’re going to avoid dealing with it,” she said as she layered torn pieces of bread into the bottom of a glass casserole, than began to whisk the eggs and cream. “There’s already so much expectation for us to personify the ultimate in passionate romance because we’re...”

  “Newlyweds?”

  Sage added butter to the skillet on the stove and began to sauté the onion, Once again aware how cozy and right this all felt. “It was one thing to be expecting a baby together. I mean, no one knew for a few months but the two of us and my doctor. But still, there is a happiness associated with the coming birth of a child that we both felt.”

  “And still feel,” he murmured affectionately.

  Sage forced herself to continue. “And it wasn’t hard, because until we announced our happy news to everyone last week, we weren’t having to pretend the way we are now.”

  He gave her a quizzical look.

  “About the marriage and everything,” she explained self-consciously, putting the rest of Nick’s favorite breakfast strata together. “The real reason behind us getting hitched in the first place.”

  “We’re both consenting adults, Sage. I don’t think anyone thinks it was a shotgun wedding, even if you are pregnant.”


  He paused to let his words sink in. “Whether our families approved or disapproved, we could easily have not gotten married, if that was what we wanted. People who know us—know how strong-willed and independent we both are—know that getting hitched was a choice we both made.”

  Except there hadn’t been a choice, Sage thought unhappily, given the way MR and the other venture partners had insisted.

  “And we made that choice happily,” he finished emphatically.

  She could see that was true—for him.

  For her, the decision was a lot more complex, in retrospect.

  Which was really ironic. She’d gone from being the woman who once “unfairly pressured and ensnared” her ex into a long-term relationship—at least to hear Terrence tell it—to the one in the equation who felt imprisoned by circumstances way beyond her control. At least if she wanted the man in her life to be as happy and fulfilled as he could be...

  Aware Nick still didn’t seem to get what the problem was, she covered the prepared dish and put it into her refrigerator to bake first thing the next morning.

  She brought the dirty dishes over to the sink, as did he, and began putting them in her dishwasher. “I don’t want the intimate details of our decision to wed to be common knowledge.” As she straightened, her hip bumped against his.

  Swallowing, Sage lifted her chin and continued, “It’s bad enough Hope and Garrett know.” Although both her brother and sister-in-law had been sworn to secrecy, and she knew they would keep their confidence, it still rankled, realizing she and Nick had been pushed into this.

  It had seemed so simple and easy at the time.

  Now...

  Was Everett Keller, right?

  Was she on the verge of losing her best friend? And all because she’d made Nick her husband?

  His mood as quietly accepting as hers was troubled and pensive, Nick went to her fridge. He helped himself to the Texas beer and a container of spicy mixed nuts, which she kept on hand just for him. While he lounged against the counter, enjoying his own snack, she got out a spoon and the carton of Rocky Road she had been working on when he arrived.