Hard-Riding Cowboy (Kinky Spurs 3)

“Three o’clock.”

“You’ve been gone a while. We’re you out causing all types of trouble?”

She laughed. “Oh, yes, if you consider going with the girls to look at a house I’m thinking about buying ‘trouble.’”

That surprised him. “You’re moving?”

She gave him a knowing look. “My apartment isn’t really baby-friendly.”

He hesitated, absorbing all this. He’d thought she’d move in with him. But that was his arrogance talking. “Did you like the place?”

“Loved it, actually,” she said. “It’s not far from the Spurs, so it’s got a great location.” She paused then gave a little shrug. “I’m working out the finances and stuff, but I think it’s doable.”

He slid his good hand along her arm. He liked this tank top she wore. The thin straps gave him so much access to her smooth skin. “How much do you need from me?”

She frowned. “Need from you?”

“Yeah, for the house . . . how much money do you need from me?”

“Nothing,” she said, way too fast.

At that, he raised his brows. “You need nothing?”

She fumbled a little then recovered quick. “Well, no, I mean, of course, I’ll need something down the road. But not like a monthly thing, just diapers maybe. Daily stuff to help me get by.”

He cocked his head, studying her. Hard. He didn’t like what she’d said. She sounded like a single mother.

Before he could speak up to figure out where her head was at, fierce mewls cut through the silence.

“Oh, you sweet babies, it must be feeding time,” Megan cooed. “Can you grab the black one?” she asked, reaching for the gray-and-white kittens. Without another word to him, she headed toward the house, with Gus following her, wagging his tail.

Nash remained rooted to the spot. For as long as he could remember, he had loved Megan’s independence. Christ, that was what had snagged him originally. She was strong and fierce, and she had a good head on her shoulders. But now she seemed to be planning her life around him, not with him. Maybe he deserved that.

His jaw began working as he scooped up the last black kitten, who screeched at him. He lifted the kitten up to his face, a plan suddenly taking shape in his mind. “Listen, squirt, it’s me and you in this now. We gotta show her that I can raise you without fucking up, okay?”

The kitten ravenously screeched again.

He took that as a yes.

Chapter 11

The following two weeks were a total blur. Megan was either at work or at Nash’s house. The burn on his shoulder had mostly healed now. He had some scarring that would never go away and discoloration that would likely fade as more time passed. Or at least that’s what the doctor had said. Besides that, whenever Nash napped and rested, she’d filled her time training Gus. Steak had been a crucial tool. The dog ignored her with every other type of treat, meat, or bone. While training had gone at a turtle’s pace, Gus would finally sit and lie down on command. Seeing that he didn’t listen much to anyone, she’d begun to research the “stop” command or something like it, hoping to control that unruly side a bit. That skill was infinitely harder to master. But she hadn’t lost hope yet.

The best part of all was that Nash hadn’t mentioned her father—good or bad—since that night in the hospital. And things between them . . . well, things had grown hotter and sweeter, shifting to this new place where she went to bed wrapped in his arms and woke up to his hard body against hers.

Things were great. Real great, actually. Which was why after breakfast, she and Nash were pulling up to her parents’ house.

After Nash parked the truck next to his mother’s car, Megan followed him out. Beneath his solid front, she saw his jaw working, a telling sign that he suspected telling their families about the baby was going to suck. She pressed her hand to her belly, feeling more protective than ever about the little one growing inside her. Soon, she would start showing. Eleven weeks pregnant now, she already had a little belly. She couldn’t hide the baby for much longer.

While Nash strode around the hood of his truck, Megan glanced at Jenny’s car. All the decisions they had made over the last few days leading up to this moment suddenly didn’t make sense anymore. Doubts took over, flushing her skin hot. “Maybe we shouldn’t do this today.”

The ever-so-confident Nash squeezed her hand tight and tugged her forward. “No backing out now.” He took her hand and climbed the porch steps, and she followed him up. Once on the landing, he turned to her. “Besides, it’s better to get this over with. Like a Band-Aid: rip it off fast, then we can clean up the mess.”

“Please let’s not have blood,” she begged.

He chuckled. “We’ll be fine, Freckles.”

She bit her lip, not having the same sense of calmness about all this. Because while this seemed fine now, she knew that in a few minutes everything would not be fine at all.