Montana Cowboy Daddy by Jane Porter
Chapter Eleven
For the next few weeks Billy and Erika maintained a polite façade of somewhat icy cordiality. She still made him breakfast in the morning, and they still watched TV in the evening, but there was little conversation. They’d watch the news and programs in silence and then Erika would excuse herself and go to bed.
May first came and went, and Erika paid rent yet again on an apartment she hadn’t seen since February.
Every day, she disappeared into her room after breakfast while Billy took care of Beck so she could work.
Her progress was laughable, though. If she were being honest, it had ground to a stop. Like today, she just sat with her computer, and stared across the room, anxious, worried, heartsick.
She was in trouble in so many ways. She wasn’t working, wasn’t being practical, wasn’t being realistic. She’d unplugged too much from her own life and was too caught up in what was happening here in this corner of southwest Utah.
She loved the cabin, and the isolation. She loved Beck, and Billy. She loved the fantasy she’d helped create—being here was like playing house. She could almost pretend she was the mom, Billy was the dad, Beck was their baby. She could almost pretend that she and Billy had a relationship. She could almost pretend that things would work out and they’d be together, a happy ever after.
But she knew.
She knew the truth. She was just avoiding it and reality.
Sighing, Erika forced her attention back to her computer screen, and lifted her hands, fingertips hovering over the keyboard. She reread her last paragraph, but no thoughts came, nothing she could write down. Fighting tears, Erika flipped through her notes, waiting for inspiration, or just for her brain to engage. She had to pull it together. She needed to focus. She couldn’t sit here daydreaming, wasting time in wishful thinking. She had work to do, and it was time she got it done—
Her vision blurred, tears blinding her.
She reached up and wiped them away, filled with self-loathing. When had she become so pathetic? What was wrong with her? This was her work, her job, her life.
But was it?
Did it have to be?
Was it so wrong to want a break, to want to focus on the here and now?
Erika stared at her computer screen for a long moment, then glanced out the window, toward the distant pink mountains. Every day, she thought of the drive and the hike. She remembered the sheer joy of being outside, moving, living, breathing. The joy of being in the moment. The joy of just feeling good, of feeling needed.
That was what she wanted. That was all she wanted right now.
Decision made, Erika opened her email and composed a message to her department chair, as well as her own advisor. She wasn’t giving up, but she was stepping away, at least for a little while.
*
Erika wasn’t surehow to tell Billy about her decision, or the email she’d sent to her academic advisor. He wouldn’t like it, and she worried he might blame himself, but she hadn’t done it for him. She’d done it for herself.
At the same time, Billy was healing remarkably well. He’d gone to Cedar City twice to be seen by doctors, and on the last visit, he’d had an appointment with a physical therapist who’d sent him home with stretches and gentle exercises. But Billy didn’t do anything gently, and within days was back to working out, and the active life he’d led.
Boom still came over to assist with certain chores, but Erika suspected Billy just liked Boom’s company, and wanted to shoot the breeze with him. Billy seemed most comfortable outside, or in the barn.
She said as much one day, early in May. “You’re recovering fast. Even faster than the doctors expected.”
“It’s good. I don’t like feeling helpless. I hated adding to your worries when you’ve had so much pressure on you with your dissertation.”
This was probably the time to tell him she wasn’t feeling pressure, not anymore, and wouldn’t feel pressure for quite some time since she’d asked for an extension and had been granted it.
But she didn’t say it, because her mind was on other things, like Billy, and that kiss from a few weeks ago, and how she wished every day he’d kiss her again. How she wished right now he’d kiss her again. He was standing so close, smelling of hay and sunshine, looking even more gorgeous, if such a thing was possible. Faint creases fanned at his eyes, and there was a little groove next to his mouth that deepened when he smiled. She’d come to know his face so well, and it was a face she loved to study when he wasn’t paying attention to her.
“It was never a hardship,” she said, fingers itching to reach out and grab his belt, and pull him toward her. She’d loved those weeks where he’d needed her help with bandages and slings. It had been too long since he’d needed her help and she could feel his warmth, and the press of that impressive chest. “You never complained, and you always did try to help me, despite your limitations.”
Suddenly he reached out and brushed a long tendril of her hair back, tucking it behind her ear. “You’ve gotten pretty good at eggs. Scrambled and fried. I’m impressed.”
She pursed her lips, trying not to smile. He was so lovely and awful at the same time. She never knew if she wanted to punch him or kiss him—
Okay, not true.
She was desperate to kiss him again. Her body hummed with tension all day long, her skin so sensitive, lips tingling. If only he’d kiss her and maybe it wouldn’t be as good as the first time. Maybe she’d realize that had been a fluke, and she’d not want his mouth on hers, or kissing his way down her neck, or covering her nipple—
“Nipple?” he said. “What?”
Erika threw her head back, horrified, her gaze locking with his. “What did you say?”
“What did you say? Nipple?”
Heat burned her cheeks, her face blisteringly hot. “No. Why would I say that?”
“I don’t know.” His gaze dropped and lingered on her breasts. “But now that you mention it—”
“I didn’t mention it. You did. I don’t even know what’s going on.” Flustered, she marched to the sink, checking for dirty dishes. There were none. She looked at the coffeepot. It was empty. Maybe she should make a fresh pot. “Do you want some coffee?” she asked, tone brisk.
He laughed softly behind her. “No.”
“Lunch?”
“Had lunch already.”
“Snack?”
He didn’t answer, and the silence wasn’t quiet, but a taut, listening awareness that made her insides do a funny flip, and the hair rise on her nape. Even without looking at him, she knew he was looking at her, and she could feel the heat in his eyes, feel the sizzling energy between them. It had been like this for weeks now. No physical contact, just endless sparks and tingling awareness, an awareness that made her chest tight and her body ache.
She glanced at him over her shoulder and her gaze met his, his intense blue gaze smoldering, filled with unspoken desire. “No Cheez-Its?” she murmured, hot and shivery at the same time.
“No.”
His voice was deep and hard, his jaw equally hard, his mouth firm, uncompromising. She couldn’t even imagine being his woman. Couldn’t imagine the heat or passion. She’d had sex before, but it wasn’t with anyone like Billy. But honestly, was there anyone like Billy? Tough, competitive, smart, grounded, funny—so funny.
She’d never been so attracted to anyone physically before, not like this. Billy made her want and need. He made her want everything and that was so new, and so shocking, she still hadn’t been able to wrap her head around it. The desire. The desire for him.
But the desire came with emotions, and unlike simple lust, she didn’t want to just sleep with him. She wanted the whole package… all of him. His heart along with his body, but he didn’t do relationships. He didn’t invest in women for the long haul. If they went to bed together, that was all it would be—sex. A carnal itch that might be briefly satisfied but would ultimately leave her feeling worse. Feeling emptier, more alone.
More broken.
She couldn’t handle that.
What she needed was someone who’d want her for love, but also life. Someone who’d want to be with her when she wasn’t young and she didn’t have a small waist and firm butt. She wanted someone who’d love her with wrinkles and gray hair. Someone who’d make her laugh just because he enjoyed making her laugh.
“Goldfish?” she said, eyes hot and stinging. Heart filling her throat.
“Do we have any?” he asked.
“No.”
The corner of his mouth lifted, and his eyes burned into hers. “Good try.”
“Thank you.”
“I think you know what I want,” he said after a moment.
She did, too. She wanted the same thing. As his gaze held hers, she could feel the leashed desire, the hunger contained. She knew he wanted her. His energy was potent. Powerful. His interest made her feel almost beautiful, and that was something as she’d never felt beautiful, not even when people paid her compliments. It was hard to feel beautiful when you knew you were deeply flawed, when you weren’t sure you were whole enough to be truly loved. She’d grown up all too aware of her fears and foibles; the insecurities that made her feel shame.
But somehow, when she was with Billy, close to him, she didn’t feel shame. She didn’t feel broken. She felt alive and fierce. Hopeful. But all it would take was one misstep and then the beautiful desire, and the lovely sense of wanting, and being wanted, would end.
“I don’t want to be one of your girls,” she said, grateful she could sound calm, relaxed, when she felt anything but.
“This is getting harder, not easier,” he said abruptly.
She nodded.
“What are we going to do about it?” he asked.
She could see from his eyes what he wanted to do. Her pulse thudded, her heart felt as if it had tumbled to her feet. “What do you want to do?”
“Maybe I should get on the road again. Join Tommy—”
“You’re going to compete?”
“Just travel with him. Keep him company.”
Her eyes smarted. “And leave Beck here with me?”
“Boom’s mom has offered to babysit regularly—”
“So, you do mean to leave us behind.”
“I know you have work to do, and it’s hard being locked down here. I’ve nothing to do. I’m just in your way.”
Something in his tone made her chest tighten. He was creating boundaries. Distancing himself. Pushing her away again. “This your home. Maybe it’s time for me to go. You’re six weeks post-surgery. You can do almost everything—”
“Beck will miss you.”
Beck. But not Billy, not him. It was hard to swallow around the lump blocking her throat. “I love Beck. It will be hard to leave him, but I know he’s in good hands with you.”
He didn’t immediately reply. “No one is telling you to leave.”
“Thank goodness. That would be mortifying.” She struggled to smile, and held it there, as if it’d been slapped onto her face. “But I’ll always be in his life. If you let me.”
“Of course I’ll let you. You’re his family.”
His family, meaning Beck’s family. Never, ever Billy’s. The distinction was so clear, and so painful, but it was what she needed to hear. Billy wouldn’t love her. He’d never willingly choose her. “There’s something I should tell you. It will probably be a relief, but I’ve asked for, and have received, an extension on my dissertation.”
“You won’t be graduating when you planned?”
“I couldn’t get motivated, couldn’t get anything done. I’d just sit at my computer and stare at the screen and it made me feel worse about things, and life’s too short for that.”
“You should have told me. I would have gotten help. I could have reached out to Ellen and asked if she’d be interested in coming over every day—”
“I’m happy to have a break. I need it. Ever since February, I’ve been tied up in knots, feeling torn, feeling guilty, and I’m over it. I just want to feel good for a bit, I just want to feel okay.”
“You were almost done, Erika. You were so close.”
“Not close enough. And I’m not walking away forever, just pushing away from the desk for now.”
“It feels like you’re quitting. Quitting is never okay.”
“Says he that wants to get back on a bucking bull and break what’s left of his body.”
He ignored the jab. “I feel like I let you down. I’d promised you’d be able to work—”
“And you did give me time to work. I was the one who didn’t want to be alone in the bedroom. I wanted to be with you and Beck.”
Billy looked at her a long moment, his disappointment evident. “You weren’t missing anything, sweetheart. Beck and I would have been here when you’re done.”
“But that’s not true. Once you’re strong enough, you’ll be back on the rodeo circuit, back to Mr. VIP, everybody’s favorite cowboy.”
“I’m no one’s favorite cowboy.”
Her eyes smarted. She struggled to smile. “Not so,” she said huskily. “You’re mine.”
He looked at her a long time before kissing her forehead, and walking out the door without a word.
*
Dinner was almostnormal that night. Beck had just started on his first food—baby cereal, and they’d taken turns trying to feed him, laughing at the enthusiasm he applied to the bites. Beck loved food, just like his dad, Erika teased.
Billy had wrinkled his nose. “Not that food,” he answered. “Steak, potatoes.”
“Eggs,” she chimed in.
“Eggs,” he agreed.
After dinner, Billy had cleaned Beck up and had gone to put him to bed. Erika was doing the last of the dishes. It had been a nice evening, surprisingly fun. Things had been so serious between them for the past few weeks it was good to hear Billy laugh, to see his smiles. He had the best smile.
Erika turned off the faucet, listening to the pinging noise coming from the living room. It was Billy’s phone. He was getting texts, one after the other. She stood at the sink trying to ignore it, but at the same time, unable to focus on anything else. Who would be blowing up his phone on a Saturday evening? He didn’t normally get a lot of texts, at least not that she’d heard, and it crossed her mind it could be one of his brothers, and then she worried that maybe something serious had happened. Maybe something to his mom, or grandfather?
Drying her hands, she crossed to the living room and the side table next to his chair and glanced down at Billy’s phone. It was face up, revealing new messages. She could only see part of them but the texts were from two different women, Carrie, and a Michelle. It was the one from Carrie that kept pinging, the latest text reading, “OMG! So bleeping excited to see you for the Fourth!!!” And then while she stood there, another new one arrived. “I wasn’t sure you’d be riding after your accident but happy I’m going to see you.” Followed by a bunch of emojis Erika didn’t want to see.
Erika put the phone back down and returned to the kitchen. She reached for the skillet, intending to wash it next, but once her hands were submerged in hot water, she couldn’t do anything.
He was going to be competing again. He was planning on returning to the circuit by the Fourth. Meaning, the Fourth of July?
Her hands shook as she scrubbed the skillet and then rinsed it and set it on the counter. She was trying to stay calm but her temper flared. She didn’t know what upset her more. Saturday night texts from a Carrie and Michelle, or discovering that Billy planned to be competing again soon. The Fourth of July was less than two months away. And that was crazy. He couldn’t even use his left arm completely. How could he ride, rope, or worse, risk more injury? It was beyond stupid. It was insane. And she was livid.
She’d known he would, but in her mind it had been in the fall, or maybe even next year. Not in a mere matter of weeks. How could he possibly think he could go back out there when he wasn’t 100 percent? And why did Carrie know this and not her?
Why was he even texting with Carrie right now? And Michelle? And God knew who else?
Erika was so angry she couldn’t even think straight. She gave up trying to dry the remaining dishes and stood in the kitchen, staring out the window over the sink, seeing the sliver of moon in the sky, feeling cheated. Betrayed.
And yet, had he ever promised her more?
They had no relationship. They had no bond. Just because they’d kissed didn’t mean there was anything serious between them.
But still, it made her feel sick that she was fantasizing about a life with him while he was texting other women letting them know he couldn’t wait to be back on the road so he could see them.
She swore under her breath, curse words she never used, even as she blinked back hot stinging tears, tears of shame and rage. How naïve had she been? How stupid was she?
Her gaze fell on the highchair that needed wiping down, and she sniffled, holding back tears. What about Beck? How could Billy put himself in danger again so soon? It was selfish. Reckless. Beck deserved better. Beck deserved a father who was planning on sticking around, whole, intact, healthy. A father that would be available for Beck’s needs, not in hospitals, not in bed, not in casts or slings, not with a walker or wheelchair. Billy was the only one who could decide to be that father. He was the only one who could choose to do the right thing. And the right thing was for him to get well, stay well, and take care of his son.
Billy emerged just then from Beck’s bedroom, wearing just a pair of gray flannel pajama pants. He was holding his shirt in his hand. She could see the scars from his recent surgery, the dark pink skin where he’d been patched back together, skin still tender and healing. He walked toward her with the shirt dangling from his hand. “I think I played a little too hard with him. He spewed some of his milk on me.”
She just looked at him. Her expression must have told him she wasn’t happy because he stopped, gave her a long, wary look.
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
“What’s wrong? Maybe the fact that you’re planning on competing in less than six weeks. Maybe the fact that you’re planning on being up in Calgary for some stampede—”
“How did you find out?”
“Is it true then?”
“That’s neither here nor there. Who told you?”
Erika’s hands squeezed into fists. She pressed them against her rib cage. “Your phone kept buzzing and buzzing and I was worried something had happened to someone in your family.” Her voice faded, her shoulder shifting. “But it was only your girlfriends checking in, excited to be with you again. I shouldn’t be surprised. I knew who you were from the beginning—”
“What does that mean?”
“I think you know. You made it really clear in the beginning. You don’t stick around. Women are just for fun. You have a hookup in every town.”
“I never said that.”
“You didn’t have to. It was pretty easy to figure out. April, the blonde from Las Vegas. The brunette in Tucson. The redhead in San Antonio.”
He widened his stance, feet planted shoulder width apart. “I don’t really see how my private life is any of your business.”
Those were the wrong words. Absolutely the wrong thing for him to say. None of her business? What had she been doing here all spring?
Fresh rage rolled through her, rage and indignation. “Obviously, I don’t matter here. I’m just one more female to make your life comfortable. I could be anyone. You could replace me like that.” She snapped her fingers. “I could be hired help, someone you booked from a domestic agency. All you have to do is contact one of those sitting services and I’d be replaced.”
“I never asked you to give up your whole life for me. I never asked you to sacrifice everything. You volunteered. You said let me stay until you’re on your feet again. You said you wanted to be the one with Beck, you said—”
“I know perfectly well what I said, but I had no idea that while I struggled to help you and Beck you were sending sexy texts to women, letting them know when you’d be back in town. The good time cowboy—”
“Is that what you really think of me?”
“Don’t act injured. This is your persona. It’s who you want to be, who you want everyone to see. Hit Billy Wyatt up for a good time.”
“You’re not stuck here, Erika. Not trapped. If you’re so miserable, go. We don’t need you playing Nurse Nightingale. We can manage without you.”
Again, the wrong words for him to say. His words felt like gasoline hitting a fire. She just exploded, something she never, ever did. “Wow, glad we got that squared away. Thanks for explaining a lot of things I was clueless about.”
She left the kitchen and returned to her room, carefully closing the door behind her, not wanting to wake Beck.
For a long minute, she just stood, back pressed to the door, hands pinned beneath her backside, trying to stop them from trembling. She was in over her head. Go, stay, it was all the same. No matter what she did now, it would crush her. Badly.
Despite her best intentions, she’d become one of those women who held out hope that a man could change, or would change. She’d held out hope that Billy would fall in love with her, and want a life together, that those walls he’d put up around his heart would tumble down, and he’d realize that she was his other half, the one he’d been waiting for.
And yet how many times had he told her he didn’t love? That he was the Wyatt who didn’t fall in love? She’d known all of this from day one, and yet she’d still secretly hoped.
Prayed.
Believed.
She could see why she’d hoped and believed. It was easy being with Billy, so easy spending time with him. He was smart and sexy and incredibly loving with Beck. He was funny, kind, interesting. Just watching TV with him was entertaining. Going for a drive to Bryce had been the highlight of her stay. Lunch at that historic inn diner had been a treat. They’d wandered through the gift shop, showing each other this and that, as if they were a couple.
There were so many times they felt like a couple, where he, Billy Wyatt, felt like her person.
For the first time since she was seventeen she hadn’t felt alone. She had people who needed her, and people who cared for her, and this sense of belonging had made her feel… wonderful.
So no, she couldn’t blame Billy for making her feel so much. There was no blame here. She’d wanted every minute with him she could have. It had actually been selfish on her part because she’d relished, cherished feeling good. She’d loved feeling happy. She hadn’t even known it was possible to feel this way, not with someone else, not in her own skin. These past few weeks she had just loved Billy and Beck, and she’d come to love herself.
She loved herself for maybe the first time ever.
It had been a revelation to realize she didn’t need big things, she didn’t need multiple college degrees, didn’t need others to be impressed by her, either. What she needed was to feel like she belonged somewhere, and she had belonged here, even if briefly.
The idea that she had to go now was beyond devastating. But obviously she couldn’t stay. Billy had made it clear that it was time for her to move on. Her heart went out to April and all the women Billy said goodbye to. She imagined him having the goodbye conversation countless times with countless women. It’s over, time to move on, it’s been fun but we have to get on with our lives, alone.
Erika was awake most of the night, sleeping in just patches, opening her eyes every so often to look at her phone. When it was four fifteen she gave up trying to sleep, and turned on her light and packed. She tore a page from a notebook and wrote Billy a goodbye, asking him not to contact her, and to just let her go. When she was ready, she’d reach out about visits with Beck, but it might be months, might be next year. All she asked of him was to respect her need for a complete break at this time.
*
When Erika emergedfrom her room the next morning she was shocked to see Ellen in the kitchen.
“What are you doing here?” Erika asked.
Ellen faced her, expression neutral. “Billy texted last night and asked if I’d watch Beck today. He said you each had plans and he needed childcare.”
Erika’s heart fell. If Billy had arranged childcare, he’d expected changes today. He’d either expected her to leave, or he was going to ask her to go.
Erika glanced out the kitchen window. The sun was rising in the sky, painting the top of the mountains pink and gold. “Since you’re here, I think I’ll just slip out now,” she said. “Before everyone’s awake. I’m terrible with goodbyes.”
Ellen looked confused. “You’re leaving?”
Erika nodded. “I need to get back to Riverside. It’s going to be a long drive.” And then she went to her room, left the goodbye letter on her bed, and collected her suitcases, carrying them outside to the trunk of her car.
Erika was glad Beck still slept. She didn’t know how she’d say goodbye to him without falling apart, and Beck didn’t need drama swirling around him. Conversely, there was no point saying goodbye to Billy. What would she say to him anyway? And what would he say to her? She might as well save them an uncomfortable farewell where meaningless words would be exchanged.
In her car she buckled up, and reversed, before pulling out of the driveway. She drove down the road at a moderate speed until she hit the highway, and then once there, drove fast, the speed a relief.
Her heart burned, and her chest burned, and her eyes burned. She was on fire, head to toe, and she drove as if she could escape the pain within her. She hurt and hurt and hurt, her entire past with all the abandonment and hollow goodbyes rising up to swamp her, reminding her just how easy it was for people to leave, to walk away. Her dad hadn’t just left Mom, but he’d left her. Mom had disappeared into anger and her new church, where she could pretend she was loving and kind, as long as she didn’t have to interact with her own daughter.
Even though she wanted to cry, she held the tears back. It was hard to breathe, hard to see, and it took her a moment to react when the car in front of her suddenly slammed on its brakes.
She slammed on her brakes, too, so hard that the back of the car fishtailed and she did a partial doughnut on the highway before coming to stop on the road’s shoulder. Thank God the shoulder of the road was flat, and there had been room to skid to a stop. With the sound of screeching tires still ringing in her ears, she turned off the engine and rested her head on the steering wheel. She had to pull herself together. She couldn’t tune out while driving. She’d get herself killed, or worse, hurt someone else.
Sitting in the car, the pain bubbled up again. She couldn’t believe she was actually leaving Beck, for good this time.
She didn’t want to walk away from him. Beck felt like hers… her baby, her son. She didn’t feel like the cousin once removed anymore, she felt like Mom. Maybe because he had no other mom, or maybe because she’d given him all of her, but to leave a child she loved felt like a sin.
Love was awful. Love hurt. Love—
She lifted her head at the sound of a sharp rap on her window. Looking up she saw Billy standing there, handsome as ever, hair disheveled, jaw covered in stubble, a furious glint in his blue eyes.
It was the real him, a very raw him, not the charming polished cowboy that did appearances and signed cards at autograph sessions.
Her insides did a crazy flip and she rolled her window down, but then couldn’t think of anything to say, and so she just stared up at him, shocked. Confused.
“You’re just leaving without saying goodbye?” he demanded curtly, voice hard.
She blinked, eyes so gritty and dry. “I didn’t think there was much for either of us to say.”
“After all this time together, you don’t think goodbye would have been nice? You don’t think we needed some kind of closure?”
Closure made her throat swell, and her chest ache. “I got the closure last night,” she whispered. “You made it clear I was no longer needed and so I’m moving on. I’m saving you from giving that speech you have to give to all your other girls—”
“You’re not the others. You’re not one of anyone else. You weren’t ever my buckle bunny. You were not a hookup. How could you even say that?”
“Because there’s nothing for me here. There’s nothing I can be—”
“No? Nothing for Beck? Did he matter so little to you?”
“He matters so much,” she answered, her voice cracked with emotion. “He’s like… mine. I’ve been with him for months. I have cared for him for months. I’ve woken up in the night to make sure he was okay for months. You think I want to leave him? You think I just want to play patty-cake and go?” She slammed her hands on the steering wheel. “But what am I to do, Billy? What are my options? How do we make this work? Because I can’t hang around here and watch you with another woman. I don’t want to look away every time your phone buzzes with a text from one of your girls. I don’t want to dread the next rodeo because you have someone special in that town. I can’t do that. I can’t take care of Beck and look the other way while you are playing the field. I know I’m not yours, and I know we don’t have a relationship, but I can’t pretend that it doesn’t tear me apart that you have someone else.”
Erika reached up and wiped away the tears before they could fall. Her nose was congested. She could hardly breathe. She was saying too much, she was revealing too much, but she couldn’t stop herself now. “I have real feelings for you, Billy. I fell for you, way too hard. It wasn’t the plan. God knows it wasn’t the plan. But it happened and I don’t need you giving me your farewell speech that you’ve given to countless other women. It would kill me. Let me leave with some dignity. Let me go while I still have some self-respect.”
“No,” he said. “I’m not letting you go. And I don’t give a damn for your self-respect, not when I think your judgment is clouded. If I thought it was the best thing for you to leave, I’d let you leave, but it’s not the best thing for you, and it’s not the best thing for me. We’re good together, really good together, and I was going to say all of this to you today, before you snuck out of the house, and flew down the road like a crazed banshee.”
“I didn’t sneak anywhere. I left you a note—”
“I saw the note. It was ridiculous. You’re being ridiculous—”
“Me? The man who won’t commit to anyone or anything, the one who needs a different woman in every town—”
“Before you, yes. Before you, I did a lot of dumb things, but that was before you. Now there is you, and you change everything. Everything.”
“What are you saying?”
“Because of you, there will never be anyone else for me, not now. There is only you. You, Erika Baylor. You’re mine. You belong with me. We’re meant to be together. You, Beck, me. And if we’re lucky, babies we make together.”
He reached inside her car, unlocked the door, and opened it so that he could unbuckle her seat belt and pull her out onto her feet. “I’m not perfect, I’m far from perfect, but, sweetheart, I think I am perfect for you. And I don’t say that arrogantly, I say it from the heart. Because I like you, I like you so much I can’t think of one thing I don’t like about you. I never get tired of your company. All I want to do is look up and see you. I love your voice. I love the way you sing as you cook or wash up—”
“I have a terrible voice. I can’t carry a tune,” she protested, leaning against him because her legs had no strength. Fortunately, he was warm and strong.
“I know, and I love that about you, because you sing anyway.” He brushed a long tendril from her damp cheek, his fingertips infinitely gentle. “I love the way you frown at your computer when you’re concentrating. I love the way you ask me to turn the TV down when it’s too loud—”
“I try to be polite.”
“I know, and you are. Excruciatingly polite.” His thumb stroked her cheek, a slow comforting caress. “I love that you read to Beck even though he has no idea what you’re saying—”
“But he does. He’s really smart.”
The corner of Billy’s mouth lifted. “I love that you talk to him like he’s a grown-up, and how he hangs onto every word you say.”
“Because he’s smart,” she said, snuggling into his chest.
Billy laughed softly. “I love that you love him, because I know you do.” His smile faded, his blue gaze growing somber. “You can’t leave us, babe. You can’t leave the people who need you, and we need you, Beck and me. We’re your family. You’re our family. We belong together.”
He was saying so many lovely words, and saying things that made her feel better, but she was still afraid. Still worried. “But if there wasn’t Beck, we wouldn’t be together. You wouldn’t want me, or need me—”
“Not true. You’re not like anyone else I’ve ever known. You’re stronger, and braver, and more loyal and more loving—you remind me of a Wyatt. You’re my people. My person. I’ve been looking all my life for you.” He kissed her then, a slow, persuasive kiss that seemed to kiss away her hurt. “Beck was just the one that brought us together, but we’re meant to be together. Destined.”
Destined. She liked the sound of that, and blinking, she looked up into his face, her gaze meeting his and holding. “You’ve turned my life inside out. It will break my heart for you to go, but—”
“I’m not going anywhere. I’ve chased you down because I can’t lose you. I don’t want you to leave. I don’t know how to say fancy words, Erika. I’m not good with romance. But I sure as hell don’t want to live life without you, not ever.”
“You like me better than the others?”
He stared deep into her eyes, baffled. “I love you. I want to marry you and spend the rest of my life with you. So yes, I like you better than the others. I like you best of all. You’re my girl. My one and only. I swear to you.”
“Does that mean we have a relationship?”
He laughed, a soft husky laugh. “We better. I’m planning on marrying you very soon.”
She rose up on tiptoe and kissed him, her arms wrapping around his neck. “Say that again.”
“You’re my girl.”
“No, the other part.”
“My one and only.”
“No, the part about us having a relationship.”
“You said that, not me.”
She tipped her head back and looked up into his blue eyes. “But we do, right?”
“Yes.”
“Say that to me.”
“We have a relationship. We’re in a relationship. It’s an official relationship.”
Erika grinned. “That sounds nice.”
“What about the marrying soon part?”
“Oh, that was nice, too.” She leaned in and kissed him. “Was that a proposal?” she asked against his mouth.
“No, I’m just stating my intentions. You’ll know when I propose to you. You won’t have to ask.” He hesitated. “But just to be clear, you love me?”
“I love you more than anything. I love you until the end of tine.” She hesitated. “But I want time with you. I want you around for a very long time. Please don’t go back on the circuit just yet. Please give yourself more time to heal. I couldn’t bear it if anything happened to you again, not so soon—”
“I won’t go back until next year. We’ll spend the next seven months together, doing things together, enjoying being a family.”
Her heart did a double beat. “Do you really mean that?”
“I do. But I have something to ask of you.”
“What’s that?”
“Finish your dissertation. Get it done. You’ll feel so much better when it’s completed, and you’re free.”
“I don’t want to miss out on life—”
“You won’t. Beck and I will be here every single day, supporting you, believing in you. Just pretend we’re your dedicated fans in the stands cheering you on.”
She leaned in for another kiss. “I like the sound of that. Erika Baylor, cowgirl.”
“Erika Baylor Wyatt, my cowgirl.”