Gambling on a Secret (25 page)

He ran his hand through his hair. “What do you know about Leon’s real father?”

Widened eyes replaced her frown, and she thoughtfully sucked on her bottom lip. “Not much. Maddie doesn’t talk about him. I’ve never even heard the man mentioned by name. Dylan, what the hell are you thinking?”

He looked out over the drifts of yellow, white, blue and red flowers. “Something beyond crazy.”

“Dylan?”

He glanced over his shoulder at her. “Yeah.”

“Why do you care if Leon gets this place or not? Rumor has it Charli and Leon are seeing each other.”

“Because Charli has worked too hard for this place to have it swindled away from her by sweet talk and bouquets of roses.”

Tracy gently touched his shoulder. “You’re in love with her, aren’t you?”

“I’ll never let a woman do to me again what Brenda did. Charli’s just a good person who has had a tough life and deserves a fair chance to make it.”

Tracy snaked her arm around his waist and laid her head against his shoulder. “Oh, Dylan.”

A white butterfly swayed gently on the wind over the field. He had to save this land from Leon’s greed. If he couldn’t give his kid a normal family where Mom and Dad lived happily ever after, he’d make damned sure he or she had a home.

He moved away from Tracy and mounted Artie. “Let’s get back.”

Charli had had her few days. By now, she should’ve pissed on a stick. And he’d know if his life was about to become a whole hell of a lot more complicated.

Chapter 13

Charli stepped back from the wall, admiring the painting she’d purchased from an antique dealer in town. It was a beautiful seascape with one of the famous lighthouses along the southern coast in the foreground. She tilted her head to one side and retreated another step to admire her handiwork. The picture was perfect.

Tom worked somewhere upstairs. He never asked for help, and if she didn’t hear the sounds of an occasional saw or hammer and the twang of his radio, she’d wonder if he was even around.

After Leon left for his business trip, she’d decided to redo her bedroom. Tediously, she’d stripped the woodwork and repainted it a pure white, then painted the walls azure. When she’d pulled up the putrid green carpet, she uncovered red oak in reasonably good condition. She’d polished the flooring as she and Dylan had done in the living room.

Now as she looked at the once drab room, pleasure tingled through her. She’d done this. All of it. Before she’d met Dylan, she wouldn’t have known where to start.

He’d gotten under her skin the first day they’d met and stayed there.

As she looked down over her flat tummy, she tried to imagine herself pregnant. She couldn’t, didn’t want to. How could she ever be a mother? She’d been close to hers, but Momma died when she just started needing her mother the most.

She forced the wave of grief down and went into the bathroom. After taking a quick shower, she changed into a clean pair of shorts and a t-shirt before heading back into the bedroom.

She admired her handiwork for a few more minutes. She had to talk to Dylan and stop stalling.

“Is this another one of your butterflies?”

She slowly turned at the sound of his deep voice. Dylan stood in the doorway of her bedroom. Thick, dark brown hair fell over his forehead, the skin tanned from the sun. Broad shoulders filled the opening, and he had his hands tucked into the pockets of his faded jeans. He took her breath away.

Meeting his silver eyes, she gave him a small smile. “You could say that. This room was ugly before I started on it.”

“Yeah, it was.” He stepped through the door and looked over the room as he moved toward her. The dimple in his left cheek deepened when he grinned. “I’m impressed.”

She shrugged and clasped her hands before her, uncomfortable and, yet, pleased with his praise. “I only redecorated it. Wasn’t all too difficult.”

He chuckled low, and it vibrated through her. “Who are you kidding? I remember teaching you which end of the paintbrush to hold.”

It was too painful to look up at him and know she was about to destroy whatever might have been. She wrapped her arms around her middle. “I–I’m pregnant.”

Unable to hold back the tears, she turned away from him, not able to bear watching his teasing admiration turn to hatred for trapping him in unwanted fatherhood. When he didn’t speak, she squeezed her eyes shut against the hollow ache. In a voice so soft she doubted he’d hear it, she whispered, “You don’t have to be involved if you don’t want to be.”

“No.” His arms engulfed her from behind and turned her to face him. The disbelief in his eyes surprised her. “I told you I’d be here. Neither one of us may have wanted this, but we created a life together.” His voice broke and he swallowed hard. “I said the other day I’d never measure up to my father. I know I never will if I walk away from you and our baby. I’m not like your father, Charli, and I won’t let another man raise my child.”

She wrapped her arms around him and buried her face into his shoulder. He smelled of horses, leather, and sunshine–and she never wanted to let him go. Her tears fell in as much relief as anything else. “I’m not sure I can do this alone.”

His breath warmed the side of her neck where his face pressed. “You won’t be alone as long as you want me here.”

She pulled back, and he gently brushed away the tears on her cheek with the pad of a thumb. The gesture was so tender and his eyes were so full of emotion, she could almost imagine he really cared for her.

Of course, he cared. Dylan cared for everyone whom he felt responsible for. But it wasn’t love. Ricardo had told her he cared for her, but he’d only cared as long as she did what he’d coerced her into doing. Danny had promised to take care of her, but he’d only cared for her as long as she stole from her grandfather to support his drug habit.

For Dylan, it was his sense of honor. He’d knocked up a girl. Of course, he’d take care of her because it was the
right
thing to do.

He smoothed his hand over her damp hair. “When was the last time you ate?”

She shrugged a shoulder. “I don’t know. I think it was sometime yesterday. I haven’t had much of an appetite.”

“I’m going to fix you something. You need to eat.”

She nodded and followed him out to the kitchen. He rummaged through the new stainless refrigerator. “I like the way the kitchen turned out.” He faced her with a carton of eggs and a package of bacon and set the items on the new island in the large kitchen.

Dylan finished stockpiling ingredients on the granite countertop. She pulled out one of the bar stools and sat down to watch him. He took two pans down from the rack above the workspace and went about making an omelet and frying bacon.

When he set a plate of food before her, she smiled up at him. He took the stool beside her, his own plate piled high.

“This looks–interesting.” She picked at the green pepper and cheese omelet that looked more like scrambled eggs with green chunks and splotched with gooey cheddar. The bacon was extra crispy and slightly burnt on the edges. “Your mother’s a chef, huh?”

“Okay. So, I’m not a
great
cook, but I haven’t starved.” He shrugged and took a forkful of food. “It’s no worse than some of your concoctions.” After swallowing, he gave her a squinted look. “In fact, this is one of your concoctions.”

“I suppose it is.” He’d really cooked for her? She ate the meal he’d made. Leon had brought her food from some of the most expensive restaurants in Dallas, but none of those meals had warmed her as much as this fare of burned bacon and too-cheesy omelet did.

When he pushed his plate away, she glanced at the uneaten food. “You can’t be full already.”

He took a sip of his coffee. “I ate supper earlier. This was just a snack.”

“Some snack.” When Dylan wasn’t drinking, he had quite a healthy appetite. “What did you have?”

“Tracy brought burgers from Ella’s. We took Artemis and Ceres and went for a ride. Hope you don’t mind.”

“Not at all. Tracy and I had lunch a couple of weeks ago at Ella’s.” Watching him closely, she paused and took a sip of the milk he’d poured for her. “I met your ex there.”

Dylan stiffened and looked away. “Her parents and sister still live in town.”

“She was meeting her mother.” She swallowed when he picked up his coffee mug, only to set it down again. “She had her baby with her.”

He sniffed and looked at her.

“I decided I don’t like her much.”

Dylan snorted and picked up his mug. This time he took a drink. “Brenda always was high-maintenance, I guess. But she wanted kids, and I didn’t.”

“Dylan.” She waited for him to meet her gaze. “I’m sorry this happened.”

He gave her a crooked smile. “Hey, I think I’m as much to blame as you are. As the old saying goes–it takes two to tango. If anyone should be sorry, it’s me.” He glanced down into his mug. “I acted like a jackass afterwards.” He met her gaze. “I guess I freaked.”

“I understand.” She ate a few more bites of the omelet. “I wonder if this is how my mother felt when she found out she was pregnant with me.”

He set his mug on the granite counter. “Have you ever looked up your father? You said you know his name.”

She shook her head and rubbed her hands on her thighs. “No.”

“He didn’t want anything to do with you?”

She shook her head. “He didn’t know about me.”

“Your mother never told him?”

“No. He went back to his rodeo life and his wife.” Sighing, she leaned over her folded arms on the countertop. “I did a Google search and found he had a ranch near Paris, Texas. I thought about contacting him last year after I found the box of letters, but then found out he was dead.” She sighed. “It’s for the best. Meeting him would have only caused a tabloid mess.”

His brow wrinkled, then his eyes widened slightly. “He’s someone famous?”

She would have laughed if her heart didn’t squeeze so painfully. “He won a few silver buckles, but he’s not famous. My half-brother is. Country singer Nate McConnell.”

“Ah, that’s why you like him so much.” Dylan finished his coffee.

She nodded and sipped from her cup. “I wish I’d have known my father.”

Maybe she wouldn’t have ever ended up in trouble if she had.

He faced her. “Our son or daughter will never wonder who I am. Even if…” He swallowed so hard his Adam’s apple bobbed. “Even if things don’t work out, I’ll be there for our kid.”

She blinked at the sudden wash of tears. “I know.”

“You should ask Tracy who her doctor is. I know it’s someone local.”

“I suppose I should go soon. You don’t mind me telling her?”

He smiled, and her heart stuttered over a beat. “No. Tracy and I have never kept secrets from each other. She’ll be thrilled she’s going to be an aunt. Let me know when you get an appointment.”

“Why?”

“Because I want to be there.”

His interest in her pregnancy filled her chest with hope and wonder. He might not want kids, but he wanted to be involved. Her mother had been all alone in her pregnancy. She’d lived at home, but her parents had refused to have anything to do with her. They’d wanted LeAnn to give her up for adoption. At least, Dylan hadn’t wanted her to do that–or worse, have an abortion. She couldn’t ever do that either.

“If it’s what you really want.”

He feathered his fingers over her cheek, his gentle touch soothing. “Charli, I want to experience this with you.” He paused, and his eyes settled on her lips. “You make me feel things I haven’t felt in a long, long time.”

She held her breath and stared into his beautiful eyes. It wasn’t a declaration of undying love, but something in the way he looked at her made her heart take flight and soar. She turned on the stool and faced him.

Her bare knees and thighs brushed against his denim-covered legs and a shiver tickled down her spine. Unable to resist their closeness and her own needs, she reached up and skimmed her fingertips over his right stubble-roughened cheek and the scar at his jaw line. His eyes darkened with desire, and heat pooled in the pit of her belly.

“I want to be with you, too,” she whispered and laid her hand on his cheek. If the only part of him she could have was his lust, she was willing to settle for that. It was better than nothing at all. “Stay with me tonight. I don’t want to be alone.”

He wrapped his hand around her nape. Though his kiss was tender, it ignited a passion like no other. Her heart ached from her love for him. Before she could wrap her arms around him, he pulled back and took her hands into his.

Maybe he didn’t want her after all. He smiled and laced his fingers with hers. The simple act of holding his hands seemed as intimate as the kiss. His voice was rough with desire. “After I clean up this mess, let’s go outside and enjoy the evening.” He kissed the tip of her nose and chuckled at her puzzlement. “Then we’ll try out those new sheets.”

Once the kitchen was spotless again, he took her hand and led her out the front door and into the garden. They walked around a few of the garden beds hand-in-hand before he broke the silence.