Shifter’s Baby (Alpha Fantasy Paranormal Billionaire Shifter BBW Romance) (94 page)

Chapter 4

              Grace tucked a stray strand of her dark curls behind her ear.

              “What do you mean, if he knew who you were?” She asked Art. He gave her a wink.

              “That's something to discuss another time.” He said. Grace eyed him, she hated secrets.

              “Please?” She asked, giving him her best puppy dog eyes. Art shook his head with a smile.

              “Come with me…” He said, jerking his head to the double doors of the barn and offering her his hand. She didn't hesitate to take it, her curiosity always getting the better of her.

              “Where are we going?” She asked, quickly setting her cup on the edge of the drinks table as they passed it.

              “You’ll see.” He said, leading her out of the barn and in to the warm evening air. With her hand in his, Art led Grace around to the back of the barn. A stack of hay bales that should have been inside the barn stood out back, stacked like steps against the back wall of the barn. Art lifted Grace’s hand, pushing her to step up on to the hay bales. Grace took wobbling steps, Art following her all the way until they reached the top bales. “Okay, now you can sit down.” He said. Grace frowned as she brushed the back of her skirt and sat down.

              “I don't understand?” She said. “What are we doing out here?” Art sat beside her and stretched out his arm, pointing in to the distance.

              “Do you see that?” He pointed to the tall metal oil derrick.

              “Uh huh…” Grace stared at it. She had no idea what it did exactly, but she knew that it had something to do with oil and big money.

              “Do you know what it is?” Art asked, plucking a strand of straw from one of the hay bales and slipping it in to his mouth.

              “Well, it's an oil…thingamagig…” Grace said, trying her hardest to sound as though the word she was looking for was just out of reach. Art laughed.

              “It is an oil thingamagig. And who do you suppose owns that oil thingamagig?” He asked.

              “You?” Grace said a little doubtfully. Art shook his head.

              “No, ma’am, not me. That there oil derrick is owned by one Mr. Everett D. Roosevelt.”

              “Oh…” Grace wasn't too sure why Art was pointing it out at all then.

              “That there oil derrick owned by Mr. Everett D. Roosevelt sits on quite a large package of land.” Art paused as he shifted the piece of hay in his mouth from one side to the other. “That package of land went up for sale around five years ago. Long before anyone knew what lay underneath it. Well around five years ago, one particular farm hand inherited quite a sum of money when his daddy passed away. And this farm hand decided to invest in a piece of local land with hopes of buildin’ his own ranch someday.” Art paused again as Grace’s eyes grew wide.

              “No…” She said in disbelief. Art grinned.

              “Well, far as that Mr. Roosevelt knows he’s investin’ in oil drillin’ on a piece of land owned by AJM corporation. His money goes right through the corporation and I ain't never had to deal with him myself.” He said. Grace covered her gaping mouth with her hand.

              “Do you suppose he will ever find out it’s you?” She asked, still holding her hand in front of her face. Art shrugged.

              “Well, I don't suppose it rightly matters now. He already set up his operation and I don't suspect any man could walk away from a gusher like that anyhow.” He nodded at the tall metal structure off in the distance. Grace dropped her hand and her eyes lit up in the brilliant moonlight.

              “Oh we should tell him!” She said. Art laughed quite wholeheartedly as he shook his head.

              “Naw, I don't see no point in makin’ trouble.” He said. Grace sighed.

              “Oh but he can be such a nasty man! It sure would be nice to see him brought down a peg or two.” She said, turning her gaze to Art. “Are you sure?”

              “I'm sure, but if I ever do decide to tell him, I’ll be sure to let you know.” He said, giving her a wink.

              There was silence for a few minutes as they both considered the scenario and its outcome.

              “So…you own all of that land?” Grace asked. Art nodded. “Do you suppose you might ever build your ranch? You know, when the oil is…umm…dry?”

              “I sure would like to, but when Roosevelt and his men are through I don't know how stable the land will be.” He paused. “But I suppose there ain't nothin’ stoppin’ me from buyin’ a new patch of land now.” He thought out loud.

              “Could you do that?” Grace asked, more out of curiosity than interest in his income. Art nodded.

              “Sure, I just gotta find a nice plot of land and hope there ain't no oil under it this time!” He laughed.

              “But wouldn't that mean that you would be richer than you are now?” Grace asked, now having no regard for the privacy of Art’s financials.

              “I was just jokin’, Grace.” He said, giving her a smile. “It sure would be nice to strike oil twice, but it would be just as nice to settle down with my own ranch and watch the world go by.”

              “I don't know many people who would choose a ranch over an oil…what did you call it?” She asked.

              “Derrick…but I don't own that, that there is all Mr. Roosevelt, I just own the land.” He shrugged. “But I don't suppose many people would choose ranching life. Me? I've always been a cowboy at heart. Ain't nothin’ makes me happier than muckin’ stalls and roundin’ up cattle.” He said, slipping the piece of hay from his mouth and chucking it down to the ground.

              “No…I don't suppose they would.”

Chapter 5

              Grace and Art sat in silence on top of the makeshift hay bleachers, both staring out at the looming oil derrick. The music from inside, muted by the thick wooden walls of the barn, still leaked through providing a soundtrack to the night.

              “I heard that Mr. Edgers is thinkin’ of sellin’ up.” Art finally said, referencing the old farmer who lived on the outskirts of town.

              “I don't think anyone in their right mind would buy that old place, it's half falling down already!” Grace said, glancing across at Art.

              “Well, I reckon’ wherever I go, I’d just tear the whole thing down and start from scratch.” He said.

              Grace was beginning to grasp just how affluent Art’s land investment had been. She couldn't help wondering which of the two, Art or Everett, was the most well off. In terms of personality, she already knew who had won the race.

              “Don't you think that would be a lot of work?” Grace asked.

              “I guarantee it would be, but ain't nothin’ around here like what I wanna build.” Art said, his face lighting up at the mental picture of his dream ranch. Grace was intrigued.

              “Oh?”

              “First I want a big farmhouse. Big enough for a wife and plenty of kids. I always wanted a big family cause it was just me and my daddy since I was about five.” Grace felt her heart jump as soon as he mentioned having a family, she had never heard a man talk in such a way before. “What’re you smilin’ about? You look like the cat that got the cream…” Art squinted one eye, looking at Grace suspiciously. She smiled.

              “It's just nice, that's all.” She said.

              “Oh, just you wait until you see it!” He said excitedly. Grace shook her head.

              “No, not the house – although I'm sure that will be lovely – but to hear you talk about a wife…and children…” She stopped, her heart was thumping so loudly in her chest now that she could hear the blood rushing in her ears.

              “Family is what makes a man.” Art said matter of factly. “His family is what strengthens him to work hard each day, to be everything that he can be and to keep on even when he ain't got nothin’ left in him.” Grace stared at him, speechless. “Don't you think so?” He asked. She nodded slowly.

              “Yes…yes, I think I do.” She said.

              Fifteen minutes passed as the two sat once again in silence. Art’s portrayal of his perfect ranch forgotten after their most recent exchange. Finally Grace stood up, placing her hand on Art’s shoulder to steady herself.

              “I suppose that I really ought to be getting home.” She said. Art’s face fell.

              “So soon?” He asked. Grace nodded.

              “I should. I need to check in on my sister and I don't want to get home too late or I will wake my daddy.” She said. Art offered his hand to stabilize Grace as he stood up. She took it. Art turned to her and pulling her hand gently, he pulled her to him. Before Grace knew what was happening, Art had his lips on hers. She felt the racing of her heart speed up. His warm lips caressed hers as his fingers interlaced with her own. She had never been kissed so deeply or passionately before. Grace closed her eyes. She tried hard to concentrate on her breathing as Art’s lips seemed to take the very breath from her lungs.

              Grace parted her lips as Art teased them gently with his tongue, hungry to taste her. As soon as his tongue touched hers, Grace felt an incredible warmth taking over her body. The apex of her thighs began to tingle and she dared to tease his tongue with her own. With his free hand, Art reached up and cupped one of her breasts through her dress.

              “Mmm…” Grace moaned and leaned in to his touch. Art wrapped his fingers around the laces of her dress’s bodice and hurriedly he tugged at them. When finally they came free, he pulled the top of her dress and reaching in to her neckline, he pulled one of her breasts free. “Mmm!” Grace moaned again as this time Art cupped her bare breast in his hand. Her small pink nipple budded under his touch and she was no longer able to return his kisses. Instead, she simply threw back her head, her mouth open, and breathed deeply and heavily.

              “Well, well, well…looks like things are getting’ mighty cozy up there to me.” The voice came from the bottom of the haystack bleachers. Shocked, Grace pulled away. They both stared down to the figure standing below. “I should have known when you rejected my affections, that you were a good time girl…” Everett smirked. “But I see now I'm not missing out on all that much…” He nodded to Grace’s bared breast. Quickly she tugged at her dress, covering herself.

              “Roosevelt,” Art began to step down the haystack bleachers, “I've had just about enough of you.” He said.

              “Well, lucky for you, you won't have to put up with me for much longer…not when her daddy finds out what she’s been up to.” Everett grinned.

              Despite knowing that Everett didn't even know who her daddy was, Grace found herself panicking. She knew that he had the money to find out and if he really did tell her father of her indiscretions, he would likely drop dead of embarrassment.

              “I don't think that would be such a smart move…” Art said, as he stepped down over the last two hay bale steps.

              “Oh? And what're you gonna do about it?” Everett said, taking a step back. He stood a good foot taller than Art, but knew that he needed space to swing if he was going to lay the man out. He rolled up his sleeves. Art shook his head.

              “I ain't gonna fight you if that's what you think.” He said. And just as the word ‘think’ left his lips, Everett took a swing.

Chapter 6

              Art leaned back, getting out of the way of Everett’s fist just in time.

              “I wouldn't do that again if I was you…” Art said as Everett recovered from his swing and brought his hands up to his face like a boxer.

              “Too chicken to fight, eh?” Everett asked with a sneer. Art shook his head.

              “No, I just don't believe in layin’ out my source of income.” Art said. It took a few seconds for this to get through Everett’s head, but when it did he dropped his hands and frowned.

              “What the hell are you talking about?” He asked. Up in the haystack bleachers, Grace couldn't help but smile to herself.

              “You…and me…” Art said, allowing a little more time for Everett to make sense of what he was saying. When it still didn't click, Art offered another helping hand. “AJM Corporation.” He said slowly and then touching the brim of his hat with his finger, he added: “Art James Monroe at your service.” Everett froze. For what seemed like hours, he stared at Art and then he raised his hand and scratched the back of his head under his hat.

              “You…You mean…” Art gave a single nod and waited for Everett to realize just what a mistake he had already made. “I don't understand…” Everett stammered. While lacing up the top of her dress, Grace stepped carefully down the hay bales.

              “What he’s telling you, in a round about way, is that he is the owner of AJM Corporation. He is the owner of that pretty piece of land out there that is making you a nice little bundle.” She said and as she came to the bottom of the haystack steps, she looked up at Everett who now seemed much less intimidating.

              “Oh…” Was all Everett could manage. It seemed that his mouth was still catching up with his brain as he processed this new information. “Well…I…umm…” Everett took off his hat and dipped his head in Grace’s direction. “I don't even know who your daddy is, if I'm being honest. And…well, I suppose from down here, looking up there a man’s eyes might play tricks on him. He might see things that aren't really there.” He said, lifting only his eyes up to look pitifully at Art. Art blinked slowly and gave him a nod.

              “Might I suggest that you offer Miss. Grace an apology and be on your way?” Art said. Everett nodded. As much as he hated to kowtow to anyone, he knew that he couldn't afford to lose his investment in Art’s oil.

              “Ma’am,” he glanced quickly at Grace before looking down at the ground. “I'm very sorry for the way I behaved tonight and the things I might have said…” Grace watched him squirm with each word that came out of his mouth. Everett looked up at her and then back to Art, who nodded, releasing him from his bondage.

              Grace had never seen a rich man scurry away like a rat before, but there was a first time for everything she told herself as she watched him go. When he was completely out of sight, she grinned at Art. Art however, didn't grin back.

              “Thank you,” Grace said, stepping closer and hugging his arm with both hands. Art shook his head.

              “Don't go thankin’ me, I just did what I had to do in the circumstance.” He said quietly. Grace released her grip on his arm, thrown by his sudden coldness towards her. “We ought to get you home.” He said with a decisive nod.

              “Did I say something wrong?” Grace asked. Art frowned.

              “Why would you ask that?” He said.

              “Well because just a few moments ago you were…we were…and now you can barely look at me. You seem so…distant…” She said. Art reached up and took his hat from his head.

              “The way I see it, Miss. Grace, there is nothin’ that a lady like you could ever do to upset me.” He gave her a weak smile.

              “Then what’s wrong?” Grace asked persistently.

              “Miss. Grace, if it wasn't for me…for my un-gentlemanly actions, none of that would have been necessary in the first place.” He looked at Grace, truly embarrassed. “I should have been more…and less…” He couldn't find the words to say what he needed to say, but Grace just smiled.

              “Art, you didn't do anything that I didn't want you to do.” She reached out, placing her hand on his arm. “You didn't do anything wrong.”

              “Whether you wanted me to do it or not, it wasn't right. I should have treated you like the lady you are.” He turned to her, his face showing just how seriously he was taking this whole thing. Grace stood up on her tiptoes and planted a kiss on his cheek.

              “Thank you, Art. But you really ought to know, I didn't just want you to do what you did…I needed it.” Art shook his head. “I needed a reminder that it's the chemistry that matters. That it doesn't matter what a man can give me, if he doesn't give me that…” She paused. “That tingling feeling.” Standing up on her tiptoes, Grace pressed her lips to his ear. “Thank you.”