A Real Cowboy Never Says No (14 page)

It felt like an eternity of heaven before the final aftershocks faded. His arms were still around her, his hands palming her butt. He rested his forehead against hers, and she closed her eyes, stunned by the impact of their lovemaking.

She ran her hands over his chest. The bumps from his scars mingled with the sweat rivulets trailing over his skin, and her fingers tangled in the dark hair accenting his chest. She didn't even know what to say. Making love hadn't changed what they were facing, but at the same time, she felt better, as if the wall that had grown between them had been torn down by their lovemaking.

Chase pressed a kiss to her forehead, and slipped one hand through her hair, lifting the curls off the back of her neck. He lightly massaged the nape of her neck, releasing tension from her muscles that she hadn't even realized she was carrying.

"Chase?"

"Yeah."

"I'm really not judging you based on your dad." She pulled back to look at him. "I'm just scared."

He said nothing for a moment, seemingly distracted by untangling her hair with his fingers. "Your point was valid."

She frowned. "What?"

He finally stopped playing with her hair and stepped back, his cock sliding out of her body in an agonizing sensation of loss. "When I was sixteen, I was already drinking heavily. I'd slept with six girls by then, and I couldn't remember half of them because I'd been drunk. My friends and I snuck onto this ranch to steal alcohol and joyride his tractor. I was the one who volunteered to go through the kitchen window, and I wound up with the rancher's shotgun wedged in my chest."

Her heart ached for the expression on his face. There was so much torment and guilt. "What happened?"

"He gave me the choice of going to jail, or working for him twenty hours a week for two years, until I graduated from high school." Chase pulled his jeans back up over his hips. He didn't fasten them, but they rested low on his waist. "Old Skip had strict rules, and I followed them, because I'd seen my dad go to jail and I knew what it was like. I didn't want to be my dad, so I shaped up. I never would have done it without being forced to. I'll never forget the day Old Skip handed me my first pair of cowboy boots, telling me to earn them." He looked at Mira. "I had never thought I was capable of earning anything, but I'd wanted to be worthy of those damned boots, so I started working my ass off for him." He ran his hand through his hair, remembering. "Gary was Old Skip's buddy, and he used to keep us in line when Old Skip wasn't around. He's a good man." He gestured to the walls. "I bought the place five years ago. This is the ranch that saved me, but without AJ, I never would have taken it this far. I never would have believed I could buy it and make it mine."

She smiled, accepting a towel when he handed it to her. "So, you should feel proud. You broke free from your past."

"No." He leaned forward and planted his hands on either side of her hips, staring intently at her. "Don't you get it? I
was
my dad for a while, and then I cleaned myself up. But my dad was okay too, until my mother died. He loved her, and she died when I was born. That's what put him over the edge and started the spiral that he never came out of." His fingers dug into the sink. "I'm one bad choice away from being my dad, Mira. One sliver of a breath." He ran his finger over her jaw. "A woman broke him, and I never understood how that could happen, until now."

Her heart tightened, and for a moment, she couldn't seem to breathe. "Chase, it's been a long time since you were that boy. You're not your dad—"

"No?" He traced a circle above her breast. "Then why, when I thought you saw me as a monster a few minutes ago, did something inside me simply snap?" He cupped her breast, a tender, possessive touch that made her belly tighten. "I don't think I'm capable of handling how I'm beginning to feel about you, because you're right. You're human, and I'm not sure I can handle anything except the fantasy."

His words were like cold water being dumped over her naked body. So, he didn't want her, the woman she was? That felt fantastic to hear after having sex with him four times in the last twelve hours. "I see."

"Do you?" His voice was urgent, almost desperate. "Do you understand the depths of how far I could fall? Do you know how bad I could be? Because I do. I have the scars to prove it, and so do all my brothers." He picked up the blue baby socks from the floor where they'd fallen, and he set them in her hand. "I never thought about it until now, until I realized the impact I could have on those that I've sworn to protect if I screw up." He closed her fingers over the socks. "One mistake, Mira. That's all it would take for me to fall into the pit that consumed my dad."

She crushed the socks in her hand. "You really think you'd make that mistake? After all you've endured?"

He looked at her. "When I was a freshman in college, I met a girl. I fell in love. She cheated on me with one of my teammates. When I found out, I was devastated. I went straight to a party and started drinking. It was the first time I'd touched alcohol since I was sixteen, and I didn't even pause. AJ found me and dragged me out of there before I finished my first drink. Without him, I'd have been down that path again. So, yeah. I think I have that potential." He looked down at the socks. "And now there's going to be a child," he said softly.

The cotton was rough and damp in her hand, no longer soft and pristine. They were wrinkled and wet. "Yes, there is," she said quietly.

A door slammed somewhere in the house, making them both look toward the door. "Chase!" A man's voice echoed. "You around?"

Chase swore under his breath. "That's Travis."

She stiffened. "Your brother? The one who has come to drive me away and save you from me?"

"Yeah." He raised his voice. "I'm in the bathroom," he called out. "I'll be out in a second." He turned back toward Mira. "Promise me you won't leave the house, that you won't move out."

She hesitated, confused. "But you just said—"

"We'll keep it professional. I'll keep my distance." His gaze swept over her nakedness one more time. "I don't know how the hell I'm going to keep my hands off you, Mira, but I won't risk you or the child. I'll find a way to be the man my father never was."

Her chest tightened at his promise, and suddenly she wanted to cry for the past that haunted him so ruthlessly. He was such a good man. Was it really possible he could betray himself and her and cross that line?

The door suddenly opened, and she yelped, jerking the towel over her breasts as Chase leapt in front of her, using his body to shield her as a man walked into the bathroom. He was even taller than Chase, and his hair was rough and unkempt. His visage was harder than Chase's, but he had the same blue eyes and straight nose. He was wearing crisp blue jeans and cowboy boots, with a white hat that was tipped low over his face. His gaze swept right past Chase and bore into her.

She stiffened and raised her chin. "You must be Travis. I'm Mira Cabot."

Travis's eyes narrowed, and he looked from her to Chase, swiftly noting her nakedness and Chase's low slung, unfastened jeans and shirtless torso. "Zane said this was a business arrangement," he said. His voice was rough, lazy with a cowboy drawl that didn't conceal his burning intelligence. "This looks like a hell of a lot more than a business partnership."

"Get out of here, Travis." Chase's voice was mild, but it carried a steely edge that made her shiver in appreciation that he was on her side. "I'll be out in a minute."

Travis looked at her again, and she saw a promise in his eyes, a promise to do whatever it took to protect his brother. "I'll be in the kitchen." He stepped backward, his boots thudding on the floor as he pulled the door shut behind him, just hard enough to make a point.

As his footsteps echoed down the hall, Chase ran his hand through his hair. "Tell me you'll stay, Mira."

She sighed. "I don't want to get in the middle—"

He wrapped his hands around her upper arms, pulling her against him. "Tell me you'll stay." His voice was edged with desperation, and she saw something in his eyes that drained the last of her resistance.

"I'll stay for now," she said, finally. "I won't leave without telling you."

He held her for a moment longer, then finally acknowledged her comment with a brief nod. "Okay. We'll talk more later, but I have to go see Travis." There was an edge of excitement to his voice that made her smile.

"How long has it been since you've seen him?" she asked as Chase reached for the doorknob.

He looked back at her. "Five years," he said. "He's only here because of you, so thank you for bringing him back." He gave her a brief smile, then ducked out of the bathroom, pulling the door shut behind him with a soft click.

Mira leaned back against the sink with a sigh. Two Stockton brothers in one house? Because one hadn't been more than she could deal with, right?

She looked up at the ceiling. "AJ, you brought him into my life, so what am I supposed to do now?"

Of course, he didn't answer, but she could almost hear him chuckling. He'd always claimed life was meant to be lived, but what exactly did that mean?

She wasn't entirely sure, but at least one thing was certain: there could be no more sex with Chase. That much she was sure of. But then what?

The low murmur of male voices drifting down the hall told her that she was about to find out.

Travis was leaning against the counter, his arms folded across his chest, waiting, when Chase walked into the kitchen. He wasn't eating, or doing anything. Just waiting.

Something tightened in Chase's chest at the sight of his younger brother. "Good to see you." He walked over to him, and dragged him into a rough hug.

Travis stiffened, then hugged him back, gripping tightly.

After a moment, Travis pounded him on the back and the brothers released each other. "You're getting old, bro," Travis said. He touched his temple. "Got some gray going on there?"

"Not as much as you. You look like you've got some miles on you." Chase released his brother and stepped back, scanning him. The last time he'd seen Travis, his kid brother been nineteen years old, with a backpack and a guitar, heading off to Nashville. Travis was carrying another thirty pounds of muscle on his once lanky frame, but his face had some lines on it now. In fact, there were shadows beneath his brother's eyes, and his face was thin, almost too thin. He didn't simply look older. He looked worn. "What's the scar on your jaw from?"

Travis touched the mark. "Bar room brawl."

Chase tensed, and then Travis laughed. "Shit, bro, you need to chill. You really think I'd be in a bar room brawl? I'm not that guy. You know I'm not a drinker."

"Yeah, but it's been a while. People change." Chase turned away and started the coffee machine. "Want something to eat?"

"I won't change that way," Travis said. "That's a line I don't cross. And are you offering one of your famous omelets? I'll never turn that down. You got any jalapeños in that fridge of yours?"

"Always." Chase opened the fridge and pulled out the ingredients. He started mixing the eggs, and then decided to add some more for Mira. After cooking for himself for so long, it looked like the biggest batch of eggs he'd made in years. It wasn't a fraction of what he used to whip up for his brothers, but it was a start. It was good. "How's the yodeling going?"

Travis shrugged. "I'm on tour through the end of October." He sat down on one of the bar stools that lined the granite bar. "Fifty-two cities, ninety-six shows in the last four months."

Chase didn't miss the bitterness in his brother's tone, and he cocked an eyebrow at him. "Not going well?" Travis had busted his butt in Nashville for years before signing a deal. It was all he'd ever wanted, and he'd gotten it, and a whole lot more.

"It's fine. I sell out everywhere. Got a couple nominations this year." Travis shrugged. "Living the dream, bro, right?" He looked around. "Place looks good," he commented, changing the subject. "Better than I remembered."

Chase didn't push the topic, but he wondered what was going on. "I've been fixing it up." Even though Travis was a few years younger than Chase, he'd still followed the path of the Stockton boys and started working on the ranch as soon as he was old enough. Old Skip had taken every one of the boys on as help, and they'd all had more than a few hot meals in that kitchen. Some weeks, Skip's chili had been the only decent thing they'd eaten. "Skip hadn't done much to it over the years. He was sick for a while before he passed away." The coffee ready, he poured a cup for Travis and slid it across the counter to him. "Can you stay for a while?"

Travis shook his head. "Have to be in Millingham, Alabama tomorrow night. I blew off tonight. Said I had food poisoning." He inhaled the coffee, and closed his eyes. "You still make the best damn coffee on the entire planet, bro. There's no place in this country that's better than your kitchen in the morning."

"Yeah, thanks." Chase pulled out a mug for Mira, then started chopping onions. "She's okay, you know."

Travis didn't bother to pretend he didn't know what Chase was talking about. Neither of them bothered with small talk anymore. Life didn't slow down enough to waste time dancing around when things had to be covered. "You can't bring her here," Travis said, without preamble.

"I can."

"Shit, man." Travis put down his mug, and gestured around the kitchen. "Look at this place. You've sunk every dime you have into it. You've got a viable business going on with the horses. You've got everything to lose. If you marry her and claim that kid, she's got a knife aimed at your back for the rest of your life."

Chase ground his jaw. "She's not like that—"

"How the hell do you know? This place is
our
history. What if she takes it? It's all we've got."

"The ranch matters to you?" Chase looked up, surprised by his brother's comment. "You've never come by even once since I bought it."