The Cowboy's Saving Grace, an erotic western novella (Taming the Cowboy) (12 page)

Liam knew even before Luke placed a hand on Kennedy's flat stomach.

"Noah's going to have a cousin. We were going to wait to tell you at Christmas."

Kennedy scowled at Liam. "Yeah, when did you become so astute?"

Liam returned her scowl, then swept her up in his arms. "Congratulations," he said into her hair, then released her to embrace his brother. "Holy shit."

"That's exactly what Luke said when the little plus sign appeared on the stick," Kennedy laughed.

"So are the two of you going to get married?"

"Something else we were going to tell you on Christmas. Yes, we're getting married New Year's Eve," Kennedy said.

"Will you be my best man?" Luke asked.

"Any day of the week."

The brothers embraced again, and Liam stepped back, emotion choking him.

"Probably not the best time to tell you, huh, when you need to concentrate," Kennedy said.

"I'm good. I'm good." Better than good. Happy for his brother, and just as happy that he was going to head down the same path soon himself.

***

Grace knew the instant Liam walked into the bar, mostly because she'd kept an eye on the door for the last hour. She knew the rodeo had been over at ten, and it was almost midnight. But she couldn't tell by his expression how he'd done. She finished up filling an order for one of the waitresses and hurried down to the end of the bar where Liam had found a spot. Not her station, but she'd fight it out with the other bartender later. At least they weren't too busy since it was a Sunday night.

"Well?" she demanded.

He took a swig of beer that Darlene had gotten for him while he waited. "Luke and Kennedy are going to have a baby. They're getting married on New Year's Eve. Want to go to a wedding?"

That was so not what she was asking. "That's lovely."

"Noah will have a cousin."

How often would he see his cousin, though, if he lived in Las Vegas and his cousin in Texas? And they'd be four years apart. Still, having family was important. She remembered adoring her cousins when she was a kid, back before she was all on her own.

She waited for him to tell her about the rodeo, but instead he took another swig of beer.

"You on much longer?" he asked.

"I get off at one tonight."

He nodded. "Tired?"

What did he mean by that? "Not too."

"I'll wait, if that's okay."

"Sure." Why wasn't he telling her about the rodeo results? Did he not know? Did he not want to talk about it? He certainly didn't act like a man who'd ended up in the money. The uncertainty made her stomach uneasy. She couldn't read his mood at all.  What did that bode for their relationship if she couldn’t? "I'm going to get back to work."

The corner of his mouth quirked. "I'm going to watch you."

Okay, that sent a little thrill through her, and she put a bit more sway in her step as she walked away, grinning over her shoulder at him. 

The next hour dragged, but business wasn't slow enough that she could talk to Liam. He didn't seem all that interested in talking, anyway, remaining in Darlene's station of the bar. She counted only two beers in that time, though, which would piss Darlene off if she couldn't make more money out of him than that.

Grace had never been so relieved to retrieve her purse and get out of there. She looked over at Liam, who tossed a bill on the bar and rose—stiffly—from the barstool. He circled around to guide her out of the bar, his hand on the small of her back.

"I'll follow you home, but then I want to take you somewhere."

***

Liam didn’t say much as he followed her up the stairs to her apartment, and nerves jumped in her stomach. He was leaving, and didn’t know how to tell her. The rodeo was over. Tonight he would say good-bye.

She wished she was brave enough to call him on his silence, but she was too scared to hear what he had to say. She led him past a sleeping Noah into her bedroom. She’d barely closed the door behind them when he pulled her into his arms. He threaded his fingers through her hair, from her temple to the back of her head, before curving at the base of her neck and tilting her head toward him. The kiss was so soft, so tender, her heart squeezed.

He was leaving.

She slid her arms around his shoulders, as if that would hold him to her forever, and he circled her toward the bed, bending to place her on the comforter before straightening. She stretched her hands above her head and watched as he unsnapped his shirt, one button at a time. She tamped down her impatience and let herself enjoy the display, the expanse of his chest that she couldn’t wait to get her hands on, her mouth on.

A smirk canting his lips, he unhooked his belt buckle—was it new?—but before she could ask, he opened his jeans and shoved them down. She couldn’t stop a smile of her own from appearing and she pushed up on her elbows to watch him as he sat on the edge of the bed to pull off his boots.

He was faster than she gave him credit for, because the next thing she knew, he’d hooked his arm around her waist to drop her back to the mattress, and levered over her to kiss her again. His skin was warm and damp beneath her questing hands, his muscles bunched as he held his weight off of her. When her hands wandered to his ass, to pull him closer, he chuckled against her mouth and dragged them back to his shoulders. When she kept them there, he rewarded her. pressing his hard-on against the seam of her shorts.

He rolled her away from him, curling his naked body around her clothed one. Pressing soft kisses along the curve of her throat, he cupped her breast, his thumb stroking lightly across her nipple. The simple touch, the sweet kisses, sent desire sparking through her veins, between her legs. She shifted so her ass nestled into his groin, and he tightened his hand on her breast before sliding his fingers beneath the waistband of her shorts.

Both of them moaned when he found her wet and swollen. He stroked one finger up and down her cleft, dipping briefly inside her, the sensation making her nipples tighten. She moved between his hand and his cock, seeking the pleasure he offered. He removed his touch to tug her shorts open. She heard a rip when he pulled too hard and the zipper broke.

“Liam,” she protested.

“Shh.”

The other sound was the ripping of a condom packet. He eased away to roll it on, and pulled her shorts down the rest of the way. Once the garment was out of the way, he bent her knee and stroked from the back of her thigh to her ass, the caress, making her tremble, and positioned himself at her entrance.

“Liam!” This time urgency colored her tone.

He rested his hand on her hip and pushed into her, deep, the angle exquisite, the head of his cock touching places along her channel that hadn’t been touched, and she melted back into him as he began to move.

Finding a rhythm in this position was tricky. He laughed softly as she wiggled against him, squeezing around him, bringing him deeper, so the head of his cock stroked her just so. He coursed his hand from her breast to her mound, teasing her clit  before returning to her breast, his hand in time to his easy strokes.

Each caress stoked her desire, focusing her thoughts on his touch, his kisses across her shoulder, the heat of his breath against her skin. Just when she thought she couldn’t bear it any longer, he rested his hand on her pussy, extended one finger over her clit, and increased his pace inside her, pushing her hips toward his hand, keeping his touch light so that he held her right on the edge, right...

And then she came, hard, trembling as she tried to match his thrusts, as she tried to keep his finger in place. He increased the pressure and the orgasm intensified, rolling through her in slow pulses.

The catch of his breath told her he followed, and she stilled to feel him come inside her.

She felt like her brain had melted when he turned her onto her back to kiss her, long and deep, his hand against her cheek.

He lifted his head to look down at her. “Get dressed.”

“What?” She didn’t think she could sit up, much less stand and get dressed.

“I want to take you somewhere.”

“Mm, you did.” She reached with a shaking hand to run her fingers through his hair.

“I’m serious. Get dressed.” He gave her ass a light slap and rolled to his feet.

***

"What's going on, Liam?"

"You'll see."

He drove her down to the strip, and pulled into one of the all-night parking lots. He came around to open her door for her, and helped her out, his hand on her waist, squeezing just an instant before releasing her to take her hand and leading her across the street to the Bellagio. She'd seen the choreographed fountains before, the flash of lights against the water, but she couldn't understand why she was here now. Liam, who'd been silent the whole drive, shifted his hat back on his head and studied the fountains now, before he turned to her. He set her on the edge of the fountain, and took a knee in front of her.

She looked into his beautiful green eyes and her breath caught in her throat. "Liam."

He reached in the front pocket of his shirt and pulled out something. Something that glittered in the flashing lights of the pool behind her, of the strip behind him. Something...

"You asked me the other day if I had a home base, and where it was. I've been moving from place to place for a lot of years, Grace, and I've never wanted a home base, never felt like I needed one. But with you, I feel like I'm home. Together, we make a family, and I want that more than anything. I want you to be my home base, Grace. I want you to be my wife, I want Noah to grow up with me as a permanent part of his life." He took a deep breath. "I came in fourth place tonight, not as high as I'd like, but I earned enough this week for this ring and a downpayment on a house. A good downpayment. A place where Teresa can stay, too, if she wants, a place where Noah can have a yard and his own room, and you and I can share a life. Will you marry me, Grace?"

She lost sight of the ring as her head spun, as his words rang in her ears. She realized then that he held her hand, and she squeezed it to keep herself grounded. So many thoughts, so many concerns. Was he marrying her because of Noah, or because he loved her? Had he even said he loved her? She flipped through the past few days. She didn't think he had.

"I don't want you to think you have to marry me."

He blinked. "I don't...I don't have to marry you. I want to marry you."

"I won’t be anyone’s obligation."

He surged to his feet at that, and pulled her with him, holding her shoulders and drilling his gaze into hers. "Don't you ever let me hear you talk like that again. You are the woman I love, the mother of my child, and one of the strongest women I've ever known. If you don't want to marry me,  if you don't love me, that's fine, I still want to be part of Noah's life. But I love you, Grace, and I want to be with you."

"That's all I wanted to know." She folded her arms around his shoulders and pressed her mouth to his.

"Is that a yes?" he asked when he came up for air.

"That's a yes."

Emma Jay has been writing 15 years, using her string of celebrity crushes as inspiration. Her husband’s tolerance for hunk-decorated blog posts improves when they’re her "heroes." For Emma, writing romance is like falling in love again. Creating love stories is an addiction she has no intention of breaking.

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All on the Line (A Blackwolf Hot Shots novella)

Standing on the Line (A Blackwolf Hot Shots novella)

At the Cowboy’s Mercy

Her Perfect Getaway (Bridesmaids in Paradise #1)

Her Island Fantasy (Bridesmaids in Paradise #2)

Her Moonlit Gamble (Bridesmaids in Paradise #3)

Wild Wild Widow

Eye of the Beholder

In the Marshal’s Arms

Show Off

Lessons for Teacher

Riding Out the Storm

Two Step Temptation

Off Limits

Enjoy an excerpt from

All on the Line, a Blackwolf Hot Shots novella

Chapter One

Jaci Nichols stood on the Northern California mountainside and watched the smoke swirl into the sky, obliterating the blue. The fire danced beneath it, greedily gnawing at the trunks of trees before moving on to easier prey, moving fast along the ground between, before licking hopefully at the next tree. How could something like fire seem so alive?

“Nichols!”

Her name was a sharp bark from her crew chief, Callaghan Sinclair, and she snapped her head up to look into his scowling green eyes.

“I don’t have room on my crew for people who sleep standing up. Get to work!”

Didn’t have room for a rookie, more like
. She lifted her Pulaski and slammed it into the hard, unforgiving ground to widen the fire break, ignoring the sounds of bark popping, of the smoke searing her nose.

She knew she didn’t look like much, at five feet four and one-ten on a good day, but she was strong. She’d run the Boston Marathon three times before it became synonymous with fear. And she’d trained damn hard to get her red card, her license to fight fires, earlier this year. Her success made her feel strong, something she hadn’t felt in a  long time. Callaghan Sinclair questioned her motives, but they were none of his business.

She wouldn’t let herself get distracted again, no matter how tired and sore she was. Especially not by him. Cal Sinclair was handsome as sin, big and muscular from seven years on the fireline. His light brown hair was close-cropped, which only served to emphasize the leanness of his cheeks, the strong muscles of his throat. She’d never been drawn to big, muscular guys before, but something about Sinclair sent all her girl parts buzzing.