Branding the Virgin

M
ary-Jane wasn’t looking
for drama. All she wanted was a family of her own, so she decided to make that happen. A mix-up at the sperm bank leaves her with a baby in her belly, but the father is none the wiser.

Ty was injured in a bull-riding accident, and now all he plans on doing is working on his ranch and keeping to himself. That is, until a little dark-haired woman shows up on his doorstep.

When their paths cross, will Mary-Jane be able to reveal to Ty that he’s the father? Will Ty be able to keep Mary-Jane from running? Will there be a lot of steam in this book? You betcha!

Warning:
This pregnant virgin story is wonderfully ridiculous and just as sweet as it sounds. Saddle up and take an evening stroll with this easy quickie.

C
opyright
© 2016 by Author Alexa Riley LLC. All rights reserved.

No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. For permission requests, email to [email protected]

http://alexariley.com/

Publisher’s Note: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are a product of the author’s imagination. Locales and public names are sometimes used for atmospheric purposes. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, or to businesses, companies, events, institutions, or locales is completely coincidental.

Edited by
Aquila Editing

D
edicated
to all those pregnant virgins out there.. we hope your cowboy baby-daddy treats you right. Giddy up!

“
H
ow did
you get yourself into this, Mary-Jane?” I ask myself for the twentieth time today. I was set to arrive at my new temporary place of employment in a little over two hours and dread was weighing heavily on me. I just hope the clothes I brought will do well to hide this little baby bump that keeps getting bigger and bigger by the day. I’m running out of time.

I let out a long sigh as I absently rub my hand over the bump. This little boy has become my whole world. In all my planning I never thought this would happen. Just when I thought I was getting something I’d wanted so dearly, everything else in my life started to fall apart. Just goes to show you: you can plan everything how you like, but someone else can come to kick it out from under you, and you have to try and pick the pieces up the best you can. This time, though, it isn't my pieces I’m picking up. I have a baby to protect and to make a life for.

“I promise, little man, I won’t let anyone take you from me.” I rest both hands on my stomach, praying my words are true and that I’m not making a giant mistake by going to see the one person who could take my baby away from me. My heart clenches at the thought of losing him. I can’t.
I won’t
, I correct myself. Losing this baby isn’t an option.

Someone couldn’t be that heartless, could they? To take a baby from its mother? I’m not so sure here, though. If what I’ve found out about my baby’s father is true, then
heartless
is pretty damn close.

Last week my doctor told me that they’d made a mistake. A giant one. They’d given me a specimen from the wrong sperm donor. Someone who wasn’t a willing donor at all.

I’d gotten two giant kicks in one day. I’d lost my job and was possibly losing my child. The clinic said they had to inform the man who’d donated. I’d asked for his name and requested they give me some time before they contacted him. They were reluctant at first, but they’d given me both after I threatened a lawsuit.

After a little online stalking I’d found my baby’s father. When I’d seen who he was, I’d lost my breath. He was known all over Texas, or so it seemed with all the articles a few years back. He used to ride bulls, but now he owns a big ranch down south, almost two hours from here. The place I’ll be calling home for a little while.

A lot of the articles weren’t flattering. He was one of the best bull riders, having won dozens of competitions, but he had a reputation to go along with it. Many articles and posts I found called him an arrogant asshole. Meaner than the bulls he rode. It made me think he wasn’t going to have any compassion when it came to this situation. Or maybe he’d just sign on the dotted line and let me and my son go.

Or he could try to take him from me. He had the money. The thought of running kept fluttering through my mind. I had money saved up, and made a small profit when I’d sold my little house just two days ago, but something about running felt wrong.

I had to be sure that if I did choose to run, I was making the right decision. That I was protecting my baby, making sure we could be together. That’s why I had to do this. I had to go meet this man. See who he was in person, because you can’t always believe rumors.

Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. Ideally, maybe we could share custody. I could get a place in town not far from his ranch. Find a local job there and we could do this together, if that’s what he wanted. It wasn’t what I signed up for when I’d decided I wanted a baby. I’d made the choice to go this alone, which I’ve been doing my whole life.

What if he has a wife or girlfriend? The thought makes my stomach turn. I could be turning their lives upside down. Then my baby would have another mom. A lump forms in my throat. It feels like every time I get something good going in my life, someone or something is trying to rip it from me.

I searched and searched for anything on him with someone else and came up with nothing. I’d read article after article on his bull-riding days and never was a woman mentioned or pictured with him. He had a hard look on his very handsome face, so I’m not sure I’d want to stand next to him and pose for a picture either.

It was hard to see his face in a lot of pictures with the cowboy hat, but I could always see the grim line of his mouth and hard jaw. It always seemed locked in place. You’d think if you just won some big competition you’d at least smile or something. Nope. Not him. Picture after picture he still had that hard, locked jaw. Almost like he couldn't talk. He’s scary and intimidating. I don’t know how I’m going to tell him about this baby.

Worse is thinking maybe he does want to be in this baby’s life and he’ll be cold and hard to my little boy. I’d grown up with a father like that and it wasn't easy. Even to this day I can’t say whether or not he loved me. Did he take care of me? Yes. But I feel more like he put up with me because he had to. It didn’t matter if I was there or not.

I think I would rather him at least be angry or something. The indifference and coldness left me empty and numb.

What I did find during my internet search was a job opening on his ranch. Someone to help around the house for the summer and do some of the books. I could get an up-close look at the father of my child before I had to tell him the truth.

“Ma’am, I think that’s everything.” I look up at one of the movers who’s been packing up my stuff to put into storage. I take the clipboard he’s holding out and sign on the dotted line. He hands me the key to the storage unit they’d put it all in.

My hand closes around the key that holds almost everything I own except two suitcases I have packed away in the trunk of my car. Even the stuff for the baby room I’d started to put together has been packed away in here. I hold back a tear, not wanting to make this poor man uncomfortable.

“Thank you,” I tell him, handing back the clipboard.

He nods before turning to leave.

I stand in my empty house. The place where I thought I’d be raising my son. A home that would have been filled with so much love. He’d never feel the coldness like I had.

Even without the donor mix-up I would have been leaving anyway. I’d moved to this little town because I wanted to get away from the big city. I dreamed of living somewhere where everyone knew everyone. I wanted to have a family in a place like this.

Problem was, I couldn’t find anyone I wanted to have a family with.

I
toss
the rope into the back of my truck and head for the house. I’ve got a new mare that just won’t break and I’m about out of options with her. Stallions and bulls, I can handle, but give me a stubborn female horse and I might as well hang up my saddle. It was a mix-up, and I’m trying to make the best of it. I wanted a new horse for the ranch and I made a deal with another rancher a few hours away to buy his foal in the spring. He’d promised me a stud, but when a mare popped out, he told me I could take it or wait another two years. I didn’t have much of a choice and agreed.

My home, the Branding Ranch, is located in south Texas. I retired on this piece of land right after I won my last rodeo championship. I was in it to make enough money to buy myself some cattle and got out. It’s a hard life working rodeos, and a dangerous one at that. I was lucky enough to walk away with my nuts intact, but even I got close with that one.

My last ride was on Hercules, the circuit’s biggest and meanest bull. He threw me off just after I set my eight-second record, and stomped right on my boys. They rushed me to the closest hospital and I had to stay there for a week. They had to take sperm samples from me, because I couldn’t get hard to ejaculate. I haven’t been able to get hard since before the accident. I thought I’d lost my dick that day, and though it’s still attached, it doesn’t work. They told me my sperm was still viable, but a lot of good that does when I can’t get the fucking thing up.

I’ve got a couple of guys who work the ranch for me, and they all stay out in the bunkhouse. But it seems pointless now, because it’s not like I need my privacy. I won’t be bringing women home, because it’s not like anyone would want me. A nice conversation only goes so far. I wasn’t bringing women around before, but I’d always hoped one day I could find a wife and we could make a few babies. But that dream got stomped on, literally, the day of the accident.

My new hire, MJ, should be here today. I put an ad in the paper for a new hand to help out with some of the day-to-day stuff. I’ve got enough labor, but I need someone to look over the houses and catch all the stuff I’m missing. I’ve always had a good head on my shoulders for business, but the everyday shit, I seem to miss. I need an assistant who can go around with me during the day and see what I do and what I don’t do.

I make my way back to the house, put the truck in park, and hop out. My hound dog Blue looks up from the porch for half a second before yawning and lying back down.

“Don’t go hurting yourself,” I say, shaking my head. The damn dog hardly moves, let alone barks. I thought hound dogs were supposed to howl.

I stay in the main house, which is on the small side—my bedroom and bathroom and a couple of empty bedrooms in the back. When I had it built, I’d thought one day of filling them with kids, but not now. There’s a simple kitchen and table, but most of the meals are made in the cook house. There’s a big building across the way where there’s an industrial kitchen and long picnic tables for the guys to eat at during chow time. But most nights I end up in here alone. It’s not that I’m a loner, I just can’t seem to keep the scowl off my face. And I can tell that people would rather I keep my attitude to myself.

“Yo, Ty!”

I look across the field to see my younger brother Blake getting out of his truck. I’ve got two younger brothers and a younger sister. It’s me, then Blake, then our brother Trace, and lastly our baby sister, Dolly. Our mom passed away when we were younger, and then our dad followed a few years ago. They left each of us a piece of land and so we all live in kind of a big commune. We all have our own places and our own farms, but I swear one of them is always stopping by. I think they know I’ve become more withdrawn since the accident, so they like to check up on me.

“What?” I mumble as he walks over to me.

“Always so cheerful,” Blake says, taking off his cowboy hat and wiping his brow. “That new hire coming in today?”

“Supposed to be here any minute.” As I say the words, a dark blue SUV comes around the bend and pulls up to the house. “Speak of the devil.”

“What’s his name again?” Blake asks, putting his hat back on and leaning against the bed of my truck.

“MJ. That’s all the application said.”

I watch as the door of the SUV comes open, and out hops a short brunette with long curly hair. “Guess that’s not him. She must be lost.” My words trail off as she steps around the car and comes fully into view. She’s got on a white dress with blue flowers on it, and for a second I’m rooted to the spot. She’s breathtaking, and I feel my jaw drop at the sight of her.

“Wish a little thing like that would get lost on my ranch,” Blake says, tipping his hat up.

I can’t reply to him because I’m watching as she walks over to stand in front of us, a shy smile on her lips. Neither of us speaks a word, and she puts her hand out in front of her and introduces herself.

“One of you must be Ty Jennings. I’m MJ. Short for Mary-Jane.”