Hard-Riding Cowboy (Kinky Spurs 3)

The flush of her cheeks gave her away. She still wanted him. He knew that with total certainty. And it kept sucking him in. Because they were so damn good together . . . if only she would allow them to happen. His feelings for her had never been a question in his mind. “I want to apologize that you got caught up in that today. I wish you hadn’t been there. My problem is with your father, not with you.”

Those fiery eyes held his, lips pressing firmly shut.

At that, he lifted his brows. “Ah, total silence. This is the game, now, is it?” He took the beer case from her hands, and she let him, and he settled the box onto the shelf next to him. Intent to make her soft and warm, he placed his hands on either side of her head. Her eyes heated as his other hand came down on her hip, and he gently guided her back until she was pinned between the wall and him. “Tell me to go and I’ll go.”

She looked down and paused for a loaded moment, then finally said, “I’m not ignoring you. I’m choosing not to talk to you. Those are two very different things.” Those fiery eyes finally lifted to his. The fire was tempered with a different emotion now. Hunger. His cock swelled painfully in his Levi’s. He stepped closer, showing her exactly what she did to him. She licked her lips, her pouty mouth begging for his kiss.

“Are you mad about today?” he asked, staring into her beautifully unique eyes.

“No, I’m not mad,” she said.

But she felt something about today. He could see that written all over her face. He’d been trying to get a handle on Megan for the past month. Something had changed in her, though he couldn’t quite figure out exactly what it was. He assumed he’d done something to piss her off. He was good at that. “So, you’re not mad, but you don’t want to talk to me, is that it?” He slid his fingers along the top of her T-shirt, pulling it down a little to press his lips against the sweet spot on her shoulder that made her shiver once. “I’d wager a bet that you might not want to talk, but there is something else you want to do with me, Freckles.” He pressed another kiss on her neck then dragged his mouth up to ear. “You already know I’m all in for exactly what you want.” And Christ, he did want her. Again and again.

And then more.

He trailed his lips from her neck to shoulder, sensing her quivering beneath his mouth. She angled her head and moaned, her hands sliding up his arms as if she couldn’t get enough of him. He couldn’t get enough of her either. He placed his leg between

hers and loosened his fingers on her hip when she ground herself against him. All the tension that had built in his chest was suddenly easing and melting away in her presence. He liked that about her. She was strong and fiery. Until he kissed her. Then she was melted butter in his hands.

Needing to remind her how incredible they were together, he slid his hand across her neck until he threaded his fingers into her hair then dropped his mouth on hers. He had one shot. And he wouldn’t waste it. He kissed her roughly, passionately, giving everything he had into that single kiss.

And she kissed him back.

Her moan brushed over him, righting everything in his world. She felt good and warm and he wanted her closer. He sensed her slowly giving him all things he wanted and more . . . until suddenly she broke off the kiss with a loud gasp.

Breathless, she stared at him.

He went still.

In her eyes, he found something new . . . something unsteady. For so many years, they had this game going on. She’d run. He chased her. Even now, he thought that’s all she wanted. The fun of the hunt. But in the dark depths of her eyes, something was wrong. And he knew this had nothing to do with her father earlier.

He took a step back and slid his thumb under her chin, capturing her gaze. “Did you not want me to kiss you?”

She paused. Then, “I wanted that kiss.”

Her voice was soft and tender, and all the things he had never heard from her. He stared into her eyes, trying to understand, a cold wave of concern washing over him. He cupped her face and felt a tug to get even closer. He saw things in her expression. Things that concerned him. “Is this about your dad?’

“Yes. No.” She shook her head. “Sort of.”

Tears suddenly rose in her eyes, and he moved even closer, leaving no room between them. Because suddenly this wasn’t fun and games anymore. And seeing those tears goddamn broke him. “What did your father do to you?” Nash would kill him.

She inhaled sharply, but her tears never fell. There was a lot showing in her expression, leaving Nash spinning. Insecurity, fear, and something gentle that Nash didn’t want anyone getting close to but him.

He locked his arms around her. “Christ, Megan, tell me. What is it?”

“Nash. I . . .” She drew in a long, deep breath before she dropped the ground out from under him. “I’m pregnant. You’re the father.”

Chapter 4

The next ten minutes became a blur that Nash couldn’t quite piece together afterward. He remembered Megan pushing past him and going back to tend the bar. He recalled leaving through the back door, knowing he needed to get himself together before he faced her and said the wrong fucking thing. Which was entirely possible considering he couldn’t even form a coherent thought. He recalled getting into his truck and driving to Shep and Emma’s white farmhouse, finding Chase’s truck there.

His mind remained ghostly quiet as he sat on one of the rocking chairs on the porch with the red barn across the driveway. Next to that was a paddock that housed a dozen animals that had come from abusive situations. Nash dropped his head in his hands and breathed once. Twice. Three times. There had only been one time before this that words had knocked him flat on his ass like the words Megan had told him. Those words had been: Your career is over.

“Do you plan on coming in?”

Shep. That was Shep’s voice.

“He looks stunned.”