Cocky Cowboy: A Second Chance Romance (Cocker Brothers of Atlanta Book 3) (13 page)

“
H
ey Roomie
!” Sylvia sings as she returns from Trader Joes.

“I’m in my new office slash bedroom!” I call back, tapping away on the keyboard. I don’t look up as she pokes her head in. “Almost done with this chapter.”

“Well, I got you some soda water. How’re you feeling?”

“Better today. Think that part is over,” I mutter from my story of how in Peru’s jungle we saw a snake so big it could have starred in the movie Anaconda. “Let me just finish up and I’ll come out, okay?”

“Sure thing!” She hums her way to her kitchen, then shouts, “Did you see who called?”

My fingers freeze over the keys. “No. Who?”

“Ryan.”

“Oh.” With my shoulders straightening again I keep right on working. “Probably wants money for some bill.”

“He probably wants to know if you’re ready for that test,” she calls back.

God. Eleven weeks along now. That test is scarier than an impending IRS audit.

Rolling my eyes, I shout, “I told him I’m waiting until the twelfth week so he can wait with me.” I pause. “Well not
with
me, but...you know.”

She chuckles. “You’re handling this so well!”

What choice do I have? Ever since returning to New York the strength I thought I had when I was with Jaxson has waned with each passing day.

But I don’t want anyone poking me with needles until I’m damn good and ready.

I won’t harm this baby just because Ryan is impatient. Which is what I told him last time we fought.

It’s not only that, though.

I don’t want to find out it’s his.

Muttering to myself, “Shit. Lost my focus,” I save the Microsoft Word document and gently shut the slender lid of my MacBook Air, pushing away from my best friend’s loaner desk so I can see what she’s up to.

Sylvia holds up dark chocolate covered caramels. “Who loves you?”

“Oh my God. Give me those.” She tosses the clear plastic box to me and I barely catch it. “Oof.”

She laughs and keeps tucking everything she’s bought into its proper cabinet or fridge shelf. “I had an offer to open a second boutique in SoHo today.”

“You did? That’s amazing!” I rip off the plastic. “Partners, or what?”

“The guys who own Travesty.”

“That little shop on Seventh?”

“Mmhmm. Just men’s clothes and they want to branch out. So they thought we could go in together and have a two-fer-one location. Isn’t that a great idea?”

“I love it,” I smile while chewing.

She cocks an eyebrow at me. “You love the idea or the chocolate caramels?”

“Chocolate caramels,” I smirk and shake my head. “The idea! It’s really great. You going to do it?”

“I’m having a lawyer look at the proposal. Thought Ryan might help me out.” Off my look, she explodes, “I’m kidding!! Ha! You should see your face. Like I’d ever do that.”

As she folds the bags and tucks them beside her refrigerator, she asks the million-dollar question, “Have you heard from Jaxson?”

“You think I wouldn’t have told you the second you walked in the door?” I smile. “No. Nothing.”

“You could call him.”

“And say what, Sylvia? I miss you?”

On a sad smile she lays out her worries. “Honey, you haven’t gone anywhere. You just stay in that room writing that damn book. Maybe you should call him and tell him you miss him. Maybe that will free you up. Get it out there.” She flings her arms out like she’s shooing away bad energy. “Just open the windows a bit, you know?”

“I have gone outside. When you’re off working, I sometimes get coffee down the street. I’ve been to Central Park twice to clear my head.”

“And?”

And New York doesn’t feel like it used to.

Up until recently it’s been home to me even inside my heart. I loved the electricity of it, mostly, and I guess the status, too. Now it just feels congested and smoggy and dirty and…lonely.

“And…I’m not calling him. There’s so much going on, Sylvia.”

She lands her hands on the counter and sighs. “I know. If I were in your shoes, I’d do exactly the same thing. Just hole up and wait. I don’t blame you. But watching from my vantage point is stressing me the fuck out!” Flipping around, she opens the fridge. “I know you can’t, but I’m going to have a glass of wine.” As she reaches for a glass, she throws up a hand. “I want to call Ryan myself and tell him to cool his heels!”

My smile contorts as an odd ache pierces me. “Ouch!” I double over as it grows stronger.

“What’s wrong?” She rushes around the counter and lays a gentle hand on my back.

“Ow. I feel…I feel...”

“Rachel?!”

I’ve stood up but I don’t know it.

“Rachel!”

I blink to Sylvia and see her pointing at the chair. There’s blood on it. “Nooooo,” I whisper, running to the bathroom with her right behind me.

She sits on the floor by the toilet, her hand on my trembling legs while I cry over my lost child.

As time slowly passes I slip into numbness.

She wets tissues and dabs my face, then turns on the shower. “You rinse off, honey,” she whispers.

When I finally twist the shower faucet off, she is there with a towel and a robe over her arm. She wraps me in it and leads me into her living room. “I want to lie down,” I quietly moan.

“Uh uh,” she whispers with a firm headshake. “You’ll just cry in there alone. I cancelled my date with Henry. You and I are gonna have lots of wine, lots of chocolate, and watch anything on TV you want. Or we can just sit here and talk, or say nothing at all. But I’m staying with you and you’re staying out here with me. You’re not alone tonight, honey.”

Sniffling I nod and bury my head in her shoulder. She wraps me up in a big hug while I sob. “I wanted the baby,” I whisper into her curly hair.

“I know you did,” she whispers. “But this one wasn’t meant to be.”

J
ust after eleven o’clock p.m
. I wake up covered in sweat, panting from a dream I had where Rachel was crying. I could hear her but I couldn’t find her. I searched, calling out her name, but it was like she couldn’t hear me. Just the same anguished sobs that never stopped. It was fucking torture for me.

Throwing the blanket off me I rush downstairs, completely missing the last stair altogether.

Where the fuck did I leave my phone?

Searching for it feels like searching for her in the dream and I become frantic.

“Fuck. This. Shit.”

After I tear my house apart, I find the damn thing in the barn on top of the milk tank. Running a hand through my hair I do what I should have done two weeks ago.

Rachel picks up, her voice quiet. “Hello?”

“Rach, it’s me. I’m sorry I took so long to call you. I need to see you.” At her silence, I start stammering, “Look, I don’t give a shit if he’s in the other room or even in the bed right next to you, you’re mine and I fucked up letting you leave like that. I’m coming to New York. If you don’t tell me where you live, I’ll tear my hair out. Just give me two minutes of your time. That’s all I need.”

“This isn’t Rachel,” the woman says, her voice still quiet. “This is Sylvia.”

I blink rapidly at the wall searching for comprehension. Waking up like that has my brain completely sideways. “Wait. Who are you? Do I have the wrong number?”

She whispers, “Hang on.” I hear some rummaging and then a few seconds of my impatience later, she says in a louder voice. “I had to get to my room.”

“What the fuck? Who is this?”

“I’m Rachel’s best friend, Jaxson. This is her phone. She’s sleeping on the couch.”

Oh. Sylvia. Right. She told me about her, but I wasn’t expecting…

“Let me talk to her.”

“Jaxson,” she begins, her voice somber. “She’s living with me now. They split up right after she got back.”

My heart starts pounding even harder.

Why didn’t she call me?

Does she not want me?

Holy shit.

How did I fuck this up this badly?

“Okay,” I rasp, pain tearing my stomach apart. “But you’re talking to me, so that must mean I have a chance.”

“Jaxson, she lost the baby tonight.”

My heart stops.

The dream.

The sobs.

My chest knots up and I groan, “Where do you live?”

A
t three o’clock
the next day, cabs at JFK line up twelve deep so it isn’t long before I’m climbing in saying, “West Village.” The driver nods. He doesn’t ask for the exact address until we cross into Manhattan.

Just like in the movies I’ve seen by the director Edward Burns, a line of brownstone apartments take up both sides of the entire tree-shaded street the cab pulls onto and parks on.

I don’t like admitting it but it’s charming and homey, despite being in a metropolis.

There’s more pedestrian action than in Atlanta, and infinitely more than at my quiet ranch. Loads of people are walking their dogs, carrying yoga mats while talking on cell phones, or heading who knows where to with coffees in their hands and dressed in clothes like Rachel wears. And that fucking douche bag she was with.

It’s gnawing at me.

She didn’t call me when they split.

It’s this town that has her.

How can I compete with New York City?

Fuck it.

I have to try.

I’ve been dying inside.

Paying the man I step outside with my eyes locked on the second story window. After searching random corners I manage to dislodge six pebbles, bouncing them in my palm before I aim for the glass.

One. Then two. Then three.

It feels like a pro boxer’s using my heart as a punching bag, but the second I see her poke her head out the window, I feel instantly better.

I have to make this right.

“Jaxson?!”

“Hey!” I call up through a cupped hand. “Wanna climb an oak tree?”

Her pink lips slowly spread in a smile and she nods with both hands on the windowsill. “Yes, please.”

“I’m comin’ up!” Through the glass in the door I see a pretty black woman coming down the staircase inside. She gives me a big smile as she lets me in. “You must be Sylvia.”

Eying me with curiosity from head to toe, she nods. “And you must be Jaxson Cocker. Nice to meet you. You came quickly.”

“Something no man wants to hear,” I smirk.

“I like you.” She wags a finger on her way to the street. “I’m going to give you some privacy.” Smiling with self-satisfaction she heads off.

I sprint upstairs and don’t even knock. Rachel jumps back, yelping.

I cock an eyebrow at her. “Waiting for me to knock before you opened it?”

“Maybe,” she smiles, but her face looks like she’s been crying all day. I’m sure she has.

“Come here,” I rasp, pulling her into my arms. The façade of levity evaporates as Rachel starts weeping. I slowly rock her grief-stricken body and she goes completely limp in my protective embrace. “I’ve got you, baby. I’ve got you.”

“Why are you here? Sylvia called you?” she croaks.

Against her head I whisper, “No, I called you last night. She answered and told me what happened.”

Burrowing into my shoulder, Rachel whimpers. “I wanted the baby, Jaxson. And it was so awful.” She chokes, “I felt empty! People say,
Oh, I had a miscarriage
and other people say,
Oh, are you going to try again?
But what about
that
baby? There was a little child inside me and now it’s gone! It’s just gone!”

“I know, Rach, I’m so sorry.” I edge her inside, kick the door shut and pick her up to carry her to the couch. Kneeling in front of her I push dampened hair away from her wet cheeks.

I want to turn back time and go through it with her. But since I can’t, I know only two ways to take away those tears – piss her off or make her laugh.

“Rach, I know why this has happened.”

“Because the baby was under so much stress?” she whispers, eyes huge with guilt-laden grief. “It’s my fault, isn’t it? It’s because of what we went through and because I was…” She chokes up.

Fuck, I’ve missed this face.

Completely serious, I tell her, “Because it wasn’t mine. If that were my kid it would have been doing pushups in there. Especially if it was a girl.”

She stares at me, then starts laughing. “Jaxson, you’re so cocky, I swear. Where do you get that stuff?”

My eyes widen with mock-surprise. “What? It’s true!
My
baby would have lifted you up and carried you into the delivery room.
Hey Mom, I’m here! Let’s get the ball rolling!
”

Laughing, “You’re insane,” she covers her face like she’s not allowed to let the pain go.

“Can’t teach a very handsome dog new tricks, lady.”

Rachel’s body crumbles into laughter but new tears come. “Oh my God, Jaxson I’m so glad you’re here. I can’t believe Sylvia didn’t tell me you were coming.”

I wipe a fresh tear from her cheek with my thumb. “She said you were staying with her now. That was all I needed to know. I booked the first flight I could get.” Staring at her, I need to ask the question that’s been haunting me. “Rach, why didn’t you call me when you broke up with your boyfriend?”

Frowning, she whispers, “I wanted to. I needed to know who was the father.”

As my face contorts, I rasp, “I don’t understand. You wanted to give it another try with him if it was his, or what?”

She blinks at me like I’ve just spoken another language. “What? No! Because why would you want to raise another man’s baby?”

Gripping her hands, my voice is thick. “Are you kidding me?! I’ve been a fucking mess since you left. That’s what you needed to hear from me? I would have raised that baby no matter whose it was if you wanted me there. Hell, I was ready to kick Ryan’s ass if you told me it was okay!” Off her surprised expression, I groan, “That’s not what stopped me from calling you. I didn’t think I had anything to offer you, out on a ranch in the middle of nowhere!”

“Jaxson,” she whispers.

“Wait. Just hold on. I didn’t think I had anything to give you, that I’d lost you to this city. But I have
me
, Rachel, I can give you me.”

Her breath hitches, but I’m not done pouring my guts out to her. I have to convince her to be with me. I will never be happy without her.

“Rachel, listen to me. I’ve never needed anyone, but I need you. And if you’ll give me the chance I’ll do everything in my power to make you smile every fucking day of your life.”

Her pink lips tremble open.

But before she can turn me down and tell me how great New York Fucking City is, I quickly continue, “Look. I was thinking you could come live with me half the month, then come back here the other half so you’re not bored out of your mind. I can’t come with you here. The animals need me and the farm can’t run without me at the helm. I’ve got someone watching it now while I’m gone, but I can’t do that every month. I’ve considered selling it—”

“—Jaxson, you can’t sell your ranch,” she quietly interrupts.

“I know,” I groan, dipping my head. “It’s a part of me. But so are you. I don’t want to live without you. Is there any way you could split the time, and write from there? And when they fly you to places for your books… Atlanta has one of the biggest airports in America!”

She squeezes my hands, frowning like it’s too complicated or something. “That sounds—”

“—I don’t care. I love you, Rachel.”

She gasps and stares at me in wonder. “You do?” she whispers.

“I’ve loved you since I was eight.” I pull her to me and kiss her, picking her up off the couch and holding her so that her legs are dangling. She laughs as I kiss all over her face.

When I can’t wait for an answer any longer, I search her eyes and whisper, “Will you do it?”

A happy smile and bright blue eyes are staring at me. “I love you, too, Jaxson. But you always knew I did.”

Overwhelmed because that sounds like a yes to me, tears cloud my vision.

These tears are strong.

Filled with amazement that I could be so lucky.

That I found my soul mate when I was just a boy.

That even though she was taken from me, I was given a second chance at happiness.

A chance to make her mine.

Rasping, “You’ll do it then?”

“No, you crazy man. I won’t split my time.” My heart stops. “I want to live with you in Georgia. All the time.”

A grin quickly spreads and I shout, “Holy shit! Are you serious!”

“I am,” she smiles. “I love your home. I won’t be bored. Please take me with you. I want to be with you.”

Those are words I never thought I’d hear. I spin her around and shout something incoherent, but then realize what I’m doing. Setting her quickly down I lay my palm on her abdomen, “You alright? Shouldn’t have spun you around like that.”

Rachel covers my hand with hers, smiling gently. “God, I love you.”

Taking her beautiful face in my hands I kiss her and she laces her fingers into my hair. Against her lips, I whisper, “I love you, too, baby. Get ready to be made very happy.”

“Too late. You already did it,” she whispers back.

I crush her in a deep kiss. We’ve missed each other so much it grows heated and I have to force myself to stop. “Whoa whoa. Give you a few days to heal. I’m going to take you home, rest you up, then I’m going to fuck the ever living shit out of you.”

Rachel grins, “Ooooo, I like the dirty talk.”

“I’m just getting started,” I smirk and rest my forehead to hers. “Rachel Sawyer…I love you.”

She teases in a whisper, “Took you long enough to tell me.”

Gazing at her, I kiss her nose. “Never gonna make that mistake again. I love you. There, see?”