Montana Cowboy Daddy by Jane Porter

Chapter Ten

The next morning, Erika struggled to get real work done. She’d been sitting on her bed for a couple hours but was stuck on the same sentence.

Frustrated, she climbed off the bed and headed for the kitchen to refresh her water glass. The living room was empty. No Beck and no Billy.

On her way back to her room she checked the two other bedrooms. They were both empty as well. Where were the boys? What were they doing?

She left the house, her gaze sweeping the corral, seeing just the horses outside grazing. As she entered the barn she could hear Billy’s voice.

“You’re not going to start roping from the saddle. That’s not how we’re going to do it. We’ll just start with a rope just like this, and the dummy head. We’re going to do lots and lots of drills, building muscle memory, so your body remembers what it’s doing, no matter what the horse does.”

She peeked around the stable to an open area of the barn where Billy had spread a blanket on the ground and propped Beck up against a saddle. Billy was practicing roping the dummy head positioned on a hay bale. “Nice and easy,” he said, throwing the rope and catching the dummy’s horns perfectly. “Always both horns. You need the tip of the rope to go over the horns smoothly. It’s going to take a lot of practice, but you’ll get it. I used to do this a hundred times a day or more when I was a boy. You’ll need to wear a glove or you’ll tear up your hand, but even then you’re going to get calluses. You want calluses. Otherwise your hands will always be a mess.”

“Getting him ready for the rodeo circuit?” she said, stepping around the door, and into view.

“He’s a Wyatt. He’s going to need to know how to rope.”

She didn’t contradict him, she simply smiled and returned to the house, and her room, and the computer.

She felt angry, though, as she closed the door of the bedroom and then sat back down on her bed with the computer.

She didn’t want to be in here, not while they were out there. She wanted to be with them. She liked being with them, and in their company, she relaxed, something she’d always found it hard to do. The more time she spent here at the cabin, the more relaxed she felt. She’d never been someone who just hung out. She was always doing something, reading something, trying to accomplish more things, but in the past few weeks she’d wanted to read less and accomplish less, and just… be.

Just breathe.

She picked up her laptop but her heart wasn’t in it. She thought of all the things she’d rather be doing.

Going for a drive.

Doing another hike.

Stopping somewhere for lunch and homemade pie.

She wanted more of the life she’d experienced lately, more companionship, more fun, more happiness. The life she wanted was here, but it wasn’t hers, not forever. If only it could be. If only the dream could be a reality.

*

The week passedslowly, with Erika more anxious by the day about her dissertation. She wasn’t getting it done. She wasn’t making sufficient progress. The guilt and worry filled her. She was in trouble, but she struggled with the isolation in her room.

While she battled, Billy was healing, becoming more mobile by the day. He’d stopped wearing his sling as consistently as he had in the beginning. She tried to caution him against doing too much but she noticed he ignored her feedback and did what he wanted.

He was trying hard to keep Beck busy, too, taking him from her for big chunks of the day so she could work, and Erika appreciated it, but since she wasn’t making significant progress, she just felt bad that Billy was trying so hard to help her and she couldn’t even help herself.

Today was one of the worst days in a long time, too. Erika couldn’t even focus enough to write a sentence. A sentence! She’d draft one sentence, then delete it. Then rewrite it. Then delete it.

Erika felt like hurling her computer across the room. This wasn’t working. She wasn’t working. Was it bad to just want to enjoy herself?

Erika had never cared much for TV—she didn’t even own one at the moment—but in the past couple of weeks her favorite thing to do was watch the nightly news with Billy, and then every evening after Beck was put to bed, they’d watch a program, and talk. They talked about everything and even though they frequently had different viewpoints, Billy always listened to her thoughts, just as she listened to his. She even liked his TV programs which were different from anything she’d ever watched—Gold Rush and Building Off the Grid.

He liked DIY programs and learning how to build things and just last night she asked if he’d ever built anything and he’d nodded, gesturing to the space they were in. “This,” he’d said.

“This cabin?” she’d asked.

“I hired a builder, but I worked alongside him. Every moment when I wasn’t competing, I was here.”

“It must have saved you a lot of money.”

“It would have, if I’d stopped upgrading everything.” He smiled. “But I enjoyed being part of the build. It was really satisfying.”

“And the barn? Same builder?”

“No. I did that, with Tommy, after the house was completed. You’ll notice it’s pretty basic in comparison.”

But the barn wasn’t basic, and Billy’s skills weren’t basic, but he was so modest, never wanting compliments, uncomfortable being fussed over. Was it being the third son that had made him uncomfortable being praised, or was he not praised very often growing up?

He’d told her he’d been dyslexic, he’d said he’d struggled in school, he’d clearly resented being made to feel as if he wasn’t bright enough. Good enough. It stirred her sympathy because he was just the opposite—bright, hardworking, nonjudgmental of others.

A truly good person.

Last night, as they finished watching the TV show, she’d snuck glances at him, taking in the big shoulders, his broad chest, and that beautiful face of his. Just looking at him made her insides feel fluttery. So fluttery.

She was head over heels. Nothing good could come of this. But it was too late to turn back, too late to save herself. She was already in way too deep.

*

After dinner thatevening, Billy watched Erika give Beck a bath in the kitchen sink. The sleeves on her red sweater were pushed up to her elbows, her long blonde hair high in a ponytail on the top of her head. She had bubbles on one forearm, and a small cluster of bubbles on her chin. She was happy, laughing, as Beck vigorously splashed bath water. The more she laughed, the harder Beck splashed, sending water and suds everywhere.

She looked like she could be Beck’s mom. They were both fair, they both had light eyes, they both laughed with the same joy.

Beck seemed to think she was his mom. He lit up every time she entered the room. And thanks to Erika’s attention, Beck was becoming a very contented baby. He gurgled and cooed, and made babbling noises as he waved his hands.

But then, how could anyone be unhappy around Erika? Lately, she was full of sunshine and light, confidence and optimism.

He felt protective of her. He loved it when she laughed, loved making her laugh, and he tried to make her laugh as much as he could.

He rose from his chair and stepped into the kitchen. “I’m thinking of going home for Mother’s Day. Do you want to go with us?”

She reached for a washcloth and wiped bubbles from her eyelashes. “Is that a good idea?” she asked.

“Why wouldn’t it be?”

“Just don’t want to give your family the wrong idea about us.”

He frowned. “What do you mean?”

“I just think if I show up with you, they’re going to think it’s odd that I’m still hanging around two months later.”

“They know you’re here. They know you’re the one taking care of Beck since I was hurt.”

“Yes, but it’s one thing for me to be here, and another in your family’s home. I don’t want your mom or granddad to think we have a relationship when we don’t. It doesn’t seem fair to give them ideas.”

“That won’t happen. They know me.”

Her expression flickered, her smile slipping before she managed to save it. “Well, that’s a relief.” She turned away from him and pushed up her sleeves higher on her elbows before picking up a towel and reaching for Beck. “Okay, Stormtrooper, we’re getting out.”

Was it his imagination or had she dismissed him? “Need a hand?” Billy asked.

She didn’t even look at him. “Nope. I’ve got it. Go back to your show. I’m good here.”

And she was good, he thought. She was more than good, and she’d carried more than her fair share of the weight around here. She’d managed Beck, managed the house, had even managed him.

Now she was managing to do without him.

He didn’t like it.

He liked doing things together, being together, being partners with her. He wasn’t a fan of being told to go, leave. He didn’t like feeling shut out in his own house.

She was angry with him, and it had to do with his visit to Paradise Valley, as well as other things, things they didn’t discuss. Like the tension simmering between them, a sexual tension he’d never felt with anyone else.

They’d spent weeks together in this cabin without a kiss, weeks where they’d tripped over each other, and avoided each other, weeks where the chemistry crackled and burned.

Billy was done tiptoeing around the attraction, pretending it didn’t exist. He was done tiptoeing around Erika, not wanting to offend her with his constant desire. He wouldn’t apologize for being attracted to her, and he wouldn’t apologize for wanting her.

Because he did want her, he dreamed of taking her to his bed, night after night. He wanted to touch her and feel her. Wanted her mouth and her tongue and her body, every bit he could have, every bit he could touch and taste.

After putting Beck to bed, she returned to the kitchen to rinse out the sink and put the baby shampoo and bath toys away. He’d already done it, though, and when she looked down into the empty, clean sink she then turned toward him, surprised. “Thank you,” she said. “That was nice of you.”

He’d left his chair and was standing on the far side of the kitchen island. “Nice that I’d take care of my son?”

Her chin lifted, and he didn’t know if she was responding to his words or tone. “I only meant that it was nice to have your help. I appreciate it.”

“I try to help.”

“I have never said you don’t.” Her gaze met his, expression fierce. “You’re picking a fight.”

“You started it.”

“I did?” She laughed, even as her hands went to her hips, drawing his eye to her waist, her breasts, her legs. “I don’t think so. I wasn’t the one who suggested dragging me to Montana as if I was the nanny.”

“That’s not how I invited you.”

“But it’s the role I play. Beck’s caregiver. Beck’s cousin. Beck’s special buddy.”

“You’re being ridiculous.”

“Maybe,” she agreed. “Or maybe I’ve just had it with being convenient. Maybe I’m tired of being that cheerful, giving woman who is here to make your life easier—”

“You’re not that cheerful,” he interrupted. “And you’re far from convenient.” He marched to her, closing the distance between them. “In fact, what I feel for you is incredibly inconvenient.”

She blinked up at him, lips parting slightly. “You have feelings for me?”

“Hunger. Need. Want. Desire that never goes away.”

Two bright spots of color flamed in her cheeks. “I suppose I should be flattered.”

“You’ve lived in this house with me for weeks and it’s all I can do to keep my distance. I’m tired of keeping my distance. Tired of pretending you’re not beautiful, not tempting, not driving me crazy.” He caught her by the wrist and drew her toward him, pulling her against him, even as he shifted his left arm away, keeping it from being jostled. “I want you, Erika. I want you bad.”

Her head tipped back, and her bright glowing eyes met his. “You only want me because you can’t have me.”

“Not true. I want you because you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever met and you fill my thoughts and you haunt my dreams, and I wake up every morning aching for you.” His head dropped, his lips brushing the curve of her warm cheek. She smelled like coconut cream, reminding him of summer and sunny beaches and icy blended cocktails. “At the same time, I’m not going to force you into kissing me. I don’t want to do anything you don’t want. So if you want me to let you go, tell me now, and I will. I’ll let you go and I’ll walk out of here and we’ll act like this has never happened.”

“Even though it happened?”

He laughed, a rumble of mocking sound. “Nothing has happened, and nothing will happen if you’re not interested.”

He felt the tremor course through her, her slim frame swaying, her breasts brushing his chest even as her gaze searched his, the tip of her tongue darting out to touch her upper lip. “You know I like you,” she said lowly, as if in protest.

“Not half as much as I like you.”

Heat flared in her eyes, and she swayed against him again. He slid his right arm around her, his palm on the small of her back, pressing her closer. She shuddered at the contact, leaning against him more fully, and his body went hot and hard. She was warm, soft, everything he liked and he dropped his head, and captured her mouth with his.

She tasted like cinnamon and sugar and he had to have more. He parted her lips, tongue stroking her soft mouth, and then inside of her mouth, showing her just what he wanted to do to her body. Love it. Taste it. Devour it.

She whimpered and pressed closer. He stroked up her back, his hand sliding under her hair to her soft nape, his palm cupping the back of her head, fingers pressing against her scalp. The kiss was hot and hungry, full of weeks of pent-up desire. She looked like an angel but kissed like sin and he didn’t think he’d ever get enough of her.

Erika stood on tiptoe and wrapped her arms around his neck. He walked her backward until he’d pushed her against the counter, the better to lean into her body, the better for creating pressure and friction.

She must have liked the pressure of his erection against his thighs because she whimpered and shifted her hips, trying to capture more sensation. The sexy shift of her hips made him harden further. If she wanted pleasure, he knew just how to deliver. He’d make her feel so good she’d never want anyone else, ever again.

The very idea of her with anyone else made him feel possessive, and he never felt possessive. How could he when he didn’t want a relationship?

But kissing Erika, touching her, made him think that just maybe there was no one else he wanted to touch, and kiss, but her.

And the realization that he wanted to be the one for her, the only one, shocked him. He broke off the kiss, stared down into her lovely eyes, eyes cloudy with passion and the sweet heat of their kiss, and wondered what had just happened? She’d just rocked his world but he didn’t know what to do about it.

Didn’t know what to do with her.

Normally, he’d take a woman to bed at this point, but there was no taking Erika to bed. That wasn’t the logical next step. Problem was, there was no logical next step. Not with her. Not now. Maybe not ever.

*

In her bedroom,Erika sank onto the edge of her bed, fingertips pressed to her swollen lips.

That kiss was so good.

So unbelievably hot.

She exhaled slowly, lips still tingling, pulse thudding. She felt boneless. Spineless. Her insides hot, molten… matching the need aching within her.

She wanted him, wanted so much more of him, and it didn’t make sense because she knew him and he wasn’t what she needed, but oh, she wanted him. She’d never felt this way before. She literally felt as if she burned… that he’d lit a fire inside of her and the fire had to be answered. The fire needed more heat, more touch, more of him.

She knew who he was, too. She knew all too well how he operated. But her body didn’t care, and her heart, well, that had never listened very well to her, either.

Her heart had a mind of its own and for some reason it just thought Billy Wyatt was it. The beginning and the end and everything in between.

*

Erika wasn’t theonly one rattled by the kiss. Billy was in trouble. He already felt so much respect for her. Respect, and admiration, and trust. The chemistry had been there, too, chemistry that had drawn him in from the start, but he hadn’t expected a kiss to confuse him.

Kisses weren’t confusing.

But that one was.

After walking away from her in the kitchen, he’d headed outside. The sun had come and gone, the sky was lavender in places, and purple in others. He walked to the corral, empty now, his horses in their stalls in the barn for the night, and leaned into the top railing. He felt turned inside out, his chest all knotted, his gut cramping with needles and pins.

Erika.

Man, she’d felt good. Unbelievably good. As he’d stroked the length of her, she’d shivered and arched and her sensitivity had driven him wild. If just kissing her fully clothed was that electric, he couldn’t imagine her in bed. Or, he could, and it made him hard, and throb, as if he were an inexperienced kid. But he wasn’t inexperienced, and he’d had more than his fair share of women, but he couldn’t remember any woman turning him on this much.

He couldn’t remember feeling so primal about a woman, either.

When she’d been in his arms, all he could think was mine. Mine, mine, mine.

Crazy.

He wasn’t possessive, he didn’t ever feel a need to lay claim to a woman. Why would he, when he didn’t think long-term? But tonight, kissing Erika, he did. He wanted her, and it had crossed his mind that if he were a caveman, he’d throw her over his shoulder and run to his cave, make love to her there so that she’d never leave his bearskin. Never leave his fire.

The fact that he was even thinking these thoughts meant he’d lost his mind.

He’d spent too much time in the cabin, too much time in lockdown. He needed to get back on the road, back to his world of asphalt and trailers, parking lots and competition. A couple weeks of tough rides and hard falls should clear his head and remind him who he was.

A confirmed bachelor.

A man without commitments.

Because he didn’t commit. He didn’t fall in love. He couldn’t promise her forever.

Until he was traveling again, he had to be careful to put distance between them.

Actual, physical distance, as well as more boundaries—space, time apart, less intimate situations. And certainly, no more touching, no more kissing, no more displays of affection.

*

The next morning,after coffee, Billy exiled himself to the barn. He didn’t want eggs. He just wanted to be alone. It was the first time he’d spent an entire morning outside since his injury, and even though there were things he couldn’t do, there was a lot he could. He focused on the horses, and mucking stalls one-handed, and then gingerly bridling and saddling each, exercising both in the corral attached to the barn. It felt good to be in the saddle again, and even though his goal had been to exercise them, he realized he had needed the exercise, too.

Erika appeared twice that morning, long blonde hair in a loose side braid, offering fresh coffee, and then later, wondering if he wanted lunch. He declined both offers and made a light remark about how he’d been sitting too much and eating too much and it was time to get back in shape.

She looked worried but bit back whatever it was she wanted to say. He watched her return to the house, his gut tight, the air bottled in his chest because she could tell things were different between them and was worried she’d done something. He wanted to reassure her that she hadn’t done anything other than kiss him far too well, but how did you even have that conversation? You didn’t. So, as the cabin door closed behind her, he forced his attention back to his ride, nudging his gelding into a sprint across the soft dirt.

*

It was obviousBilly was avoiding her, and Erika gave him space all day, but by dinner time she’d had enough of his cagey distance and silence. She’d made a roast chicken, something that wasn’t hard, not after she looked up recipes online and was proud of her efforts, but then angry when Billy barely ate.

“No breakfast,” she said, sitting back at the table, “no lunch and now hardly any dinner. What’s going on? Are you sick? In pain? Do I need to get you to a doctor?”

“Nothing’s wrong,” he retorted, pushing aside his plate. “Just not hungry. Don’t take it personally.”

“You’re always hungry, so yes, I’m taking it personally.”

“Well, don’t. Everything’s fine—”

“No, it’s not.” She reached for Beck’s plastic key ring and handed it back to him. “Things are not fine. You’ve shut me out, given me the big freeze, and, after last night, it’s kind of hurt my feelings.” Erika gave him a long, assessing look. “Was the kiss that disappointing? Did I not respond appropriately?”

He winced. “It wasn’t bad, and you know it.”

“No, I don’t know it. All I know is that you pushed me away from you last night and haven’t spoken more than a half dozen words since.” She swallowed hard but kept her composure. “Can you just fill me in so I know what’s going on here?”

“Do you really not know?”

“No. And I’m not in the mood for guessing games. Just treat me like I have half a brain and tell me what’s going on.”

Billy stared at her a long minute. “I’m attracted to you.”

“Okay.”

“It’s not okay. It’s a problem.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m not going to muck our friendship up by making another move on you.”

“Because I’m April’s cousin?”

“No. Because you’re you. You’re not looking for a good time. You’re looking for a forever man, and that’s not me. We both know that. Don’t we?”

She swallowed and gave a short nod, even as a part of her silently argued with him. He wasn’t as shallow as he claimed. He wasn’t the player he pretended to be. But at the same time, if he didn’t want more with her, he didn’t want more.

“Okay then,” she said, rising from the table. “I’ll wash up.”