by Addison Fox
Although Hoyt was known for his surly attitude, his temper rarely rumbled above a low simmer. He knew how to keep his irritation on a firm leash. So what was it about this one woman and these unfair, ping-ponging questions that had his ire up in a flash?
“Can we just calm down here a minute? Like you said, this is a big bombshell. Just because it’s a surprise doesn’t mean I don’t want the child, nor does it mean I can’t pivot and accept the changes in my life. But to your point, let’s not sugarcoat it.”
“What are you trying to say?”
Hoyt took a deep breath. What was he aiming for? Love? Devotion? Or maybe just a moment to rewind and take in all she’d just shared.
“What I’m trying to say is hold on a damn minute. You’ve had a bit longer to get used to this than I have. Rash statements don’t do either of us any good.”
He knew rash. Had lived it himself over a decade ago when he and his family got stuck dealing with the aftereffects of his father’s poor business choices. While he might have moved on from those times and the anger that had fueled him to rebuild Reynolds Station, they weren’t forgotten memories.
“Let me get us both a few waters and we can talk this through.” Hoyt stood and crossed to the fridge, rubbing his midsection. Although he was well able to take a punch, Tate had landed a few good ones and his stomach was bruised from his brother’s assertive fists.
“You okay?”
“I’d be a bit better if Tate hadn’t decided to go all Terminator out in the paddock.” Hoyt grabbed two bottles of water. “I’d feel even better about it if I hadn’t been the one to punch first.”
“Men worry about that?”
At the genuine innocence in her question, Hoyt couldn’t hold back the smile that had continued to force its way into their conversation. Reese was having a baby.
His baby.
And for reasons he couldn’t name or understand, everything in his upside-down world had just turned right-side up.
Reese knew men handled matters with their fists. She’d seen it enough growing up and had witnessed several school-yard fights since becoming a teacher. It wasn’t an aspect of human behavior she liked, but she understood it.
It was an entirely different matter to know she’d been the root cause of a brawl. How was that even possible?
While she hadn’t gone looking for a follow up evening despite wanting one, Hoyt had made no attempt to contact her over the past few months. If a small piece of her heart had been left bare and exposed at that, it served her right. She knew what she’d asked for that crazy Tuesday night in June.
Sex without strings.
It had felt important at the time. Grown-up. Mature. How humbling to realize after he’d left that she wasn’t really designed for the whole one-night stand thing. But she could hardly change her mind after assuring him—repeatedly—that all she wanted was an evening of mutual fun between two consenting adults.
It had been the truth when the evening began. Even as she’d said the words, she’d believed each and every syllable herself. It had only been later—after—when she’d thought about all that she and Hoyt had shared that night. The sex had been amazing, but it had been so much more.
Camaraderie.
Kindness.
And a tender sweetness she’d never expected.
Was that the reason she’d found such joy in the discovery she was pregnant?
Even as she couldn’t deny the lingering feelings for her child’s father, she knew that the joy of discovering she was pregnant was steeped in so much more. Based on her due date, in seven and a half more months she was going to be a mother. There was power there, and a most humbling realization that there would be an infant totally and completely dependent on her.
Her child.
With a glance toward Hoyt she amended that. Their child. A small ribbon of joy unfurled beneath her breastbone at that.
And his insistence on claiming his child.
“How long have you known?”
Hoyt’s question put an end to her musing, meandering thoughts. “A little over a month.”
If he thought that was too long to wait to tell him, he didn’t show it. Instead, his direct gaze never wavered and his mouth remained set in a firm line. “How are you feeling?”
“Good days and bad. Mornings are tough,” she admitted, happy to have someone to tell, especially since she hadn’t dared mention it to her mother. “Some afternoons, I feel great and eat whatever I can get my hands on. Others, the thought of food has me running for the bathroom.”
“I’m sorry you’ve carried this alone. Sorry that—”
Something silly and misguided leaped in her chest when he broke off.
Sorry that he what?
Hadn’t called? Come around? Asked after her?
Or sorry about the baby?
Before she could ask, he finished his thought. “Sorry that you’ve had to face this by yourself.”
“Yes, well. I wanted you to know.” She stood, the weight of the responsibility that lay between them heavier than it had been since the day she’d read that little plastic stick. “I’ll get going now.”
“You don’t have to leave.”
“Actually, I do. This changes a lot, but it doesn’t change what’s between us.”
“And what’s that?”
“We’re not in a relationship,” she said. The joy at his acceptance of her pregnancy faded in that stark reality. She’d reminded herself of it often enough. They had a child linking them together but they weren’t in a relationship.
If she hadn’t gotten pregnant using neon-green condoms, the two of them would still be going about their lives. Him on the ranch and her preparing for a new school year.
And they’d be apart.
It hurt, but the pain didn’t make it any less true.
Although he was a man of economic motions, not prone to the exaggerated or expansive, Reese was surprised to see Hoyt go so still. As someone who had little ability to sit still, anyone who exhibited the behavior was impressive in her eyes.
But Hoyt’s stillness was something else entirely.
“Hoyt?” When he said nothing, she pressed a bit harder. “What’s the matter?”
“I’m trying to understand something.”
“Of course.”
“How is it that you could hold on to this secret for a month, not tell me and then when you finally decide to do so, race off like the hounds of hell are at your feet?”
“I’d hardly—”
“I’m not done.” He held up a hand, the motion as effective—maybe more so—as a gunshot. “You come over here, tell me the massive news that I’m going to be a father and think you’re going to waltz out again.”
“I’m not waltzing anywhere.”
“Oh, no? Because if you’re planning on walking away from me, you’ve got another think coming.”
* * *
Whatever satisfaction he’d taken from pummeling on his brother had vanished, his skin as tight and his pulse as hard and thready as earlier. Hoyt wasn’t sure how it had happened but this one woman had managed to turn his entire world on its ear.
Again.
He’d believed he’d get past their time together back in June. A crazy night of passion, not to be repeated or given a chance to sprout into anything serious. His aversion to commitment had been the only thing—the very thin tether—that had kept him from going back to her. The night after they were together and every night since.
It was out of character and more than that, it wasn’t something he was looking for. He wasn’t cut out for the whole lifetime with someone and a march toward forever after. He was a difficult person and whether it had become a personal shield—as Ace had hinted at often enough—or was just the reality of who he was, Hoyt knew he wasn’t relationship material.
So why did this one woman have the odd ability to make him think otherwise?
Worse, to want otherwise.
“Walk away from you? I’ve never even walked toward you, Hoyt.”
“The night we spent together suggests otherwise.”
“Does it?”
Her question hovered between them, a living, breathing ball of fire that burned bright. “You don’t think it does?”
“I think we were two adults who found something mutual in each other that night. Comfort. Release. The things grown-ups do in the dark. That’s all.”
Although it stung to have their night together painted in such raw terms, he was hardly about to share the confusion that had continued to haunt his dreams every time he thought about his night with Reese. Instead he nodded, keeping his gaze solemn. “Have you told anyone else?”
“No.”
“Not even your mother?”
“She’s—” Reese stopped. Sighed. “She’s fragile right now. I’ve swung back and forth between the idea that a baby will give her something happy to focus on and the idea that she’s going to go over the edge that her single daughter is having a baby out of wedlock.”
“Any chance you’re underestimating her?”
“Probably.”
The discovery of Russ Grantham’s crimes had shaken the very foundation of Midnight Pass. He could hardly expect the man’s wife wasn’t still reeling from living at the very epicenter of the situation. Even so, he found it hard to believe the prospect of a grandchild and a new generation would be met with anything but joy.
An image of Serena Grantham snuggling with her grandchild filled his mind’s eye, at odds with the reality that his own mother would never see his child.
“You should tell her.”
“I will. I’m running out of time to keep it a secret, anyway.” Reese sighed. “Same goes for work.”
“You’re not expecting a positive reception there?”
“Hardly. A single, pregnant teacher? That’s the stuff of nightmares for the PTA.”
“It’s no one’s concern. Nor does your personal business have anything to do with your ability to teach.”
“That won’t keep tongues from wagging.”
“Little does.”
Little did stop the gossips but telling Reese to screw ’em was hardly the answer, either. Whether it made sense to him or not, Reese’s reality wasn’t his own and public scrutiny was a part of her job. Although he might be ignorant of her day-to-day challenges, it wasn’t a stretch to realize a teacher of teenagers would receive a rather cold eye on any behavior that might—inadvertently or otherwise—influence those in her care.
And while she was right—they had acted as single adults—he couldn’t help but feel she now bore a far bigger set of consequences.
“We could address it head on.”
Reese let out a small bark of laughter. “Clearly, you’ve never met a determined Parent–Teacher Association and the fierce dragons who choose to run for the board.”
“Focused parents?”
“Focused and often of the helicopter sort.”
“Helicopter?”
“Sorry.” She shook her head. “I suspect your exposure to rabid parents is minimal in the middle of a cattle ranch.”
“’Fraid so.”
“A helicopter parent is one who hovers and makes a considerable amount of noise while doing so.”
The image connected and he nodded. “Got it. And you’ve got a few of those.”
“A whole board full of them.”
“Ouch.”
He had no interest in parading his personal life around Midnight Pass, but he was hardly going to toss Reese to the wolves. If she needed help, he’d give it to her and he’d support her completely. “There has to be a way to make them see reason. You’re a good teacher.”
“Thank you. That’s sweet of you.” She stilled mid-tear of the label on her water bottle. “But how would you even know that?”
“That time you brought the kids here for a tour. I watched you. You’re good with them. You didn’t talk down to them and you treated them with respect.”
“Thank you.”
“Plus, you seem to really like what you do. You got into the discussion of careers and asked the ranch hands some really good questions.”
“Thanks.”
“You don’t believe me?”
She shrugged. “It’s not about belief, Hoyt. It’s about the reality of standing up in front of a room full of teenagers, week after week, my stomach growing rounder and rounder. I’m supposed to set an example.”
“And being a grown-up who’s about to welcome a child into the world isn’t a good example?”
“Not to the PTA and certainly not to my school board.” She stood again. “Look. I don’t expect you to understand the pressure or the magnitude of what I’ve created with this situation.”
Her bleak expression tugged at something deep inside of him, even as a small flame of an idea flickered and flared to life. “Then explain it to me.”
“I thought I just did. Parents of teenagers full of raging hormones are more than ready to take a proverbial pitchfork to anyone in a position to negatively influence their children.”
“And having a baby is a negative influence?”
“It is when you’re unmarried. When you add on the scandal of a serial killing father, the entire situation smacks of poor decisions and a pathway to losing my job.”
“Let’s kill the gossip then.”
Her gaze flicked down to her still-flat stomach before snapping back to his. “I’m keeping the baby.”
His patience at an end, Hoyt’s retort was sharper than he’d planned. “Yes. We are.”
“We?”
“We. You might as well start getting used to it.”
“Okay.” She nodded, the fierce defense fading slightly. “We. That still doesn’t change the situation.”
“Let’s change it then. Let’s get married.”
Chapter 5
Explain it to me.
We.
Let’s get married.
Hoyt’s demands hovered in the air playing over and over in her mind. But it was his final suggestion—the marriage one—that had her words sticking in her throat.
Married?
Why did that thought tantalize so much, like a dancing light playing just out of her reach? Something she wanted to touch—wanted to reach for with both hands—yet still couldn’t quite grasp. So Reese did what she always did. What she’d done since she was a teenager with a family unit falling further and further apart day by day.
She fell back on practicality and reason.
“I can’t marry you. I don’t even know you.”
“We’re having a baby. Maybe it’s time we started to know each other.”
Hoyt’s words tempted as they sunk in, that light dancing in the distance. Marriage? Getting to know each other? Having a baby together?
Did he have any idea what it meant to hear that? From the moment she’d discovered she was pregnant, there had been something other than that sticky coating of fear lining her throat. Yes, she was excited about the baby. Had been from the start.
But it was a joy that came with a shockingly deep price.
If she could keep the proverbial lions at bay—and she’d been a teacher long enough to know the PTA had very sharp teeth—she could adjust to her new reality. She could bring her child into the world and do it with the knowledge she wasn’t destitute or risking unemployment once her annual contract ended.
It was a solution to her problems and it gave her time to plan her life.
But what would that mean for her heart?
Was she truly the type of person who could enter into a loveless marriage? A sham? It was that reality she couldn�
�t reconcile, no matter how tempting his words.
“I agree, we need to know each other better. That doesn’t mean we should get married.”
“Why not? It will fix your problems at work.”
“But we don’t know each other,” Reese tried again. “How do two people who don’t know each other get married?”
“How did two people who don’t know each other have sex and make a baby? We’ll figure it out.” Hoyt was so matter-of-fact. So sure of himself.
Reese fought not to get caught up in the moment, remembering exactly how well they’d figured it out. More, she tried desperately not to get caught up in that oh-so-wonderful vision of letting him take her away from the problem at hand.
And with that, came a new fear. And a new sadness.
She was a single mother, or would be one. She was prepared to face that alone. Marrying the father of her child—a man she didn’t know—wasn’t necessarily going to fix anything more than her optics problem with work, but she would still know the truth. She and Hoyt were strangers. Yes, they were two people who had found comfort in each other in the most intimate of ways, but it didn’t change the facts.
As if reading her thoughts, Hoyt pressed on. “And it’s not like we don’t know each other. I’ve known you practically my whole life.”
“As acquaintances in town or people who say hello at the grocery store. That’s hardly marriage material.”
He shrugged. “So we get married for a while. Get past the gossips and the innuendo and put on a show for everyone in town. They’ll move on to a new subject soon enough.”
“And then what?”
“We have to figure out how we’re going to share our child. This will give us time to do that, too.”
The warm, comforting visions that had begun to roost in her mind of their own accord vanished in the space of a heartbeat. “How to share our child? What’s that supposed to mean? This is my baby.”
