Cowgirl Come Home (30 page)

He leaned in to plant a kiss on her lips then pulled her into the crook of his arm—right where she was meant to be. “See you later, brother. Get some ice on your cheek. Don’t want a black eye when you’re back in Helena, right?”

He didn’t wait for an answer. He was still waiting for one from Bailey, and that was the only answer that counted.

*

OC chuckled under
his breath.

He’d watched the whole confrontation from start to finish. He’d been on his way back from the game booth with his prize when he spotted Austen Zabrinski watching the Ferris wheel. The look on his face was one OC knew well—self-righteous indignation.

OC hadn’t been able to catch everything said, but he’d heard enough to ache for his daughter. He knew she’d always regret her decision—even if he hadn’t given her any choice in the matter at the time. The last thing she needed was some judgmental jerk butting in just when Paul was about to propose.

When she’d stormed away, OC had had to grip the arms of his wheelchair to keep from jumping to his feet to fight Austen. Luckily, Paul had taken a swing for him.

And a moment later, Bailey showed up. Breathless. Her eyes glittering with unshed tears.

He’d held out the bear and said, “This is for Chloe.”

She’d looked over her shoulder then back.

“You’re not going to let Austen Zabrinski dictate your future, are you? If you love the man, stand your ground, girl. His family will adjust. People always do.”

Her smile was the best he’d seen in days. Years, maybe.

Then she’d kissed his cheek and asked, “Want me to call Mom to help you get back to the exhibit hall?”

He’d waved her off. “I’ll manage. Go. Do what needs to be done.”

And she’d done him proud, standing up for herself—and Paul.

He waited until Bailey and Paul disappeared into the crowd then he hooked two fingers into the corners of his mouth and whistled—same as he’d taught his daughter at the ripe old age of five. People turned. A lot of people, but OC only cared about one—Austen Zabrinski.

When Paul’s older brother looked his way, OC motioned him over.

“Mr. Jenkins,” he said, surprisingly courteous given the disrespect and hostility he’d shown Bailey.

Misogyny stemmed from any number of different roots, OC knew. Austen’s hang-ups only mattered where Bailey was concerned. “What can I do for you?”

“You can push this piece of shit wheelchair to Building-A.”

“Why would I do that?”

“Because you’re the kind of man who cares what people think.”

“Unlike you.”

“Damn right.” He waited until Austen had his hands on the grips then he added, “I never gave a flying fig, but I care now that Bailey is back to stay.”

Austen made a skeptical sound. “What makes you so sure she won’t take off again?”

“Cause she’s pregnant with your brother’s baby, and this time she isn’t going to listen to anybody—especially not me—if we were foolish enough to try to talk her out of having it.”

“Pregnant? How do you know?”

OC eased back in the chair and let out a sigh. “Same way I know where the fish are when I’m scouting a creek. It’s a feeling. And I’m never wrong.”

Last time, he’d known weeks before the test kit showed up in the garbage. Plenty of time to fret and stew about his daughter’s future. And his conclusion set him on a three-day bender that culminated in a shouting match with Bailey where he used every kind of emotional blackmail he knew to convince her to do what he wanted—escape. The way he’d never had the balls to do.

This time, he’d do anything in his power to support her decision to stay. And that included coming clean with Austen Zabrinski.

B
ailey felt the
same type of after-buzz she normally experienced following a successful ride. She’d stood up to one judgmental asshole and felt empowered, excited and a little giddy.

“Are we really going to do this?” she asked, eyeing the open door of the camper. She wanted him. She did. And she wanted to say, “Yes. I’m ready to commit in a way I wasn’t fifteen years ago. Ready to be the person I couldn’t have been then.”

But, what if they were rushing things? Was Paul prepared for the flack he’d get from his family? How would his kids handle the idea of a stepmother?

“By
this
, do you mean make love or get married?”

“Both.”

She stepped into the trailer, drawn to the bear-hug size bouquet of stargazer lilies. Her favorite.
He remembered.

He locked the door and pulled her into his arms. “Then, my answer is yes and…yes. I’d toss you over my shoulder and carry you to the Justice of the Peace if I thought I could get away with it, but I suppose we should let our families get used to the idea, huh?”

She wiggled her hips against his. “Guess what? I don’t care what anybody thinks.”

His eyes narrowed with a look of lust and purpose. “No parents, kids, jobs, history or regrets?”

She shrugged out of her shirt, tossing it carelessly over the chair. “None.”

She unbuckled her belt, unzipped and kicked off her boots, with no real grace. The only thing she needed right now was confirmation that he loved her.

He dropped to one knee and pressed a kiss to her bare belly. “I love you, Bailey. Will you marry me?”

She didn’t hesitate this time. “Yes. My heart’s always been here. With you, Paul. I finally feel like I’m home.”

“Home to stay, I hope.”

“And then some.”

There was so much Paul wanted to say, but he decided to let his feelings do the talking. He kissed her the way a dying man welcomed light and hope back into his life.

He closed his eyes and experienced the feel, the taste, the heady aroma of the stargazer lilies he’d ordered off the Internet. “I feel like I’m home, too—even though I never left. Does that make sense?”

She worked his shirt over his shoulders. “Nope. But we never did. Maybe that’s what makes us perfect for each other.”

“Yin and yang?”

She moved back to unbuckle his belt. “Now, don’t go all California on me.”

Her low throaty chuckle shot straight to his groin. His jeans shrunk a size or two, which made getting out of them a team effort. Luckily, she was patient and very good with her hands.

They climbed into the elevated bed, ripping back the covers like two kids playing hide and seek. Only this game was for all the marbles.

They rolled together, naked limbs accommodating naked limbs. Desire obvious. “I brought protection.”

“Better safe than sorry?”

“I would never be sorry if we got pregnant, Bailey. I want more kids. I want your kids. Tell me you feel the same.”

He didn’t have to hold his breath for long. “If we’re that lucky, Paul, I will be over the moon for nine months. If…if we try and things don’t work out…” Her voice dropped. “Will that be a deal-breaker?”

He squeezed her so tight she gave a little peep. “Never. But there would be some poetic justice if we
had
to get married, wouldn’t it? How would you feel about trying right from the get-go?”

“Didn’t we accidentally do that? In the shower in Reno?”

He blushed. “True. Do you think you’re…?”

She frowned. “I’ve never been that lucky. We didn’t use birth control the whole time Ross and I were married and…nothing.”

“Maybe he was shooting blanks.”

“Do you mean a vasectomy? Trust me, Ross had too much ego.”

“I didn’t mean that. He started bull riding pretty young, didn’t he? Maybe he damaged his baby making parts.”

“Oh. That never occurred to me. I blamed myself. I thought maybe something happened inside me when…you know.”

He kissed her forehead, her eyes and the corner of her mouth. “If conceiving turns out to be a problem, we’ll see a specialist. No worries. Okay?”

Her smile made his insides expand almost to the hurting point. “Sounds like a plan. In the meantime, how are
your
baby-making parts?”

She reached between them to fondle his junk. “I’ve heard jockeying a desk can be hazardous to your health, too.” His anatomy answered. “No impediment here, I see.”

They proceeded to take pleasure in each other, but more than that, they loved one another. With mouth and tongue, lips and body. Like alchemists, they took separate elements of need and desire and combined them in the most powerful aphrodisiac known to man—lust.

When he entered her, she moaned greedily. “Yes. You’re finally mine, cowboy. I need to do this.” She gently pushed him onto his back and threw a leg over. “Cliché, right? Cowgirl on top?”

He palmed her breasts, so captivated by her beauty and the blood pooling in his groin, he murmured the only answer possible. “Huh?”

She covered his hands with hers and laughed. “I love you, Paul Zabrinski.” Then, she fell forward, hands on either side of his head, a look of intense focus on her face. “You…have… no…idea…how…much.” Her hips ground in a tight circle, emphasizing each word.

His juices pulsed, lifting him off the bed.

They rode the wild, ageless tussle straight to a peak where earth and stars met in one fiery explosion. Bailey’s cry of completion resonated in his ears, as sweet a sound as any he’d ever heard. He followed her to that point and beyond with a shout of utter triumph.

She dropped to his chest, spent and breathing hard.

“I love you, Bailey Jenkins,” he said, stroking her hair, her bare back. “Thank you for loving me.”

She nuzzled his neck. “You’re welcome, stud.”

They stayed locked in each other’s arms, too content to move, until a faint chirping sound made Bailey lift her head. “Your phone or mine?”

“Yours. Mine is turned off.”

She drew in a big breath. “Well, as much as I’d like to spend the night with you, I can’t. I have to unload the boxes in the back of Dad’s truck so I can finish packing up the tables and displays tomorrow. There’s a deadline.”

“Tell me about it.” He groaned. “Big Z’s outdoor adventure booth nearly killed me.”

She scooted sideways until only one leg remained across him. “It was gorgeous. Dad was really impressed. Said the fake stream reminded him of Spring Creek.”

He pulled back slightly so he could look her in the eye. “Really? I’ve been thinking about setting up the display in the store. Like you see in those big box Outdoor Rec stores. I even thought OC might consider coming to work for me. Maybe teach the basics of fly-fishing, making flies, stream fishing, hunting, and gun safety…you know, the kinds of things he could do in his sleep.”

Bailey’s mouth gaped in surprise.

“Having the Fish Whisperer on staff would be great for business, don’t you agree?”

Bailey hugged him fiercely. “Paul, that’s a fabulous idea. Mom and I have been wracking our brains trying to come up with something OC could do this winter besides sitting around feeling sorry for himself.”

“Will you ask him or do you want me to?”

She blinked coyly. “Well, if you’re serious about marrying me, you probably should—”

“Done,” he said, “’Bout time.’”

“You asked him? When?”

“When I gave him the ride tickets and told him about my plan to propose on the Ferris wheel.”

She slugged him playfully. “You sneak. Did Mom know?”

“Of course.”

She flopped back, giggling. “Small towns. What have I done?”

He reversed positions, pinning her arms overhead. “Don’t tell me you’re already having regrets.”

Her eyes sparkled with mischief and joy. “Never. But that doesn’t mean I can’t give you a hard time.”

“True. You always have.”

Her teeth worried her bottom lip. “Which is why I’m so good at it.”

She squirmed, her naked breasts inches from his lips. “Among other things.”

He licked one deliciously pointy tip. She arched into him with a soft moan. To his shock, he went hard and any chance of her leaving disappeared.

So much for good intentions, he thought. They had a lot to do—including planning a wedding, but all that could wait for tomorrow…after they broke the news to his family.

*

“You told Austen
the truth about your mother?”

Louise’s hands squeezed the plastic grips on the wheelchair so tight her arthritic knuckles started to pulse in pain. She consciously eased back and made herself take a deep breath.