The Texan's Baby (Texas Rodeo Barons)

“I’m going to go for now, but I’ll check in tomorrow, okay?”

“Okay. Lizzie, first thing you should do is call a meeting for Monday morning and have Julieta draft a release....”

“I’ll look after it. You just rest.”

She kissed him again and left him in the hospital bed, looking vastly unhappy about the whole thing.

Lizzie wasn’t so sure of herself either, but she’d fake it.

She’d have to.

Chapter Five

By the time they reached San Antonio, Lizzie was exhausted. She’d done the driving this time, and during the extended moments of silence she’d begun planning a meeting agenda for Monday. When they’d stopped for gas, Chris had gotten out to pump and she’d sent two emails to Brock’s executive assistant, Maria, copying in Julieta, who was head of the PR department, and Lizzie’s own assistant, Emory, about the announcement and scheduling the meeting for Monday at 10:00 a.m.

With the hectic day before, and her restless sleep last night, knowing Chris was downstairs, the thought of another four hours of driving made her sigh. Perhaps she’d start back and get a hotel room for the night.

She parked at his condo, sliding into a visitor’s spot. “I can’t wait to have a shower and change my clothes,” Chris commented, looking over at her. “Thanks for bringing me back.”

“Thanks for going with me,” she replied, smiling weakly. “This is going to sound weird, but it was good to have you there last night.”

“You’re not used to relying on other people,” he guessed, one eyebrow raised.

She laughed a little. “Not really. I’m the oldest. I think...well, everyone just expects me to handle things, and I do. But it can be a bit lonely.”

What had prompted her to make such a confession? It must be the fatigue. Certainly not any growing intimacy between them.

“I think being the oldest must sometimes be like being an only child,” he mused. “There’s a lot of expectation involved. You don’t want to let anyone down.”

“Your parents are that way? Are they going to freak out about the baby, then? Be disappointed in you?”

He laughed, and once more she absorbed the pleasant sound. “Well, they’ll wish I’d done it in the order you suggested earlier. But the thought of having a grandchild? They’ll be over the moon.”

She rested her hands on the steering wheel. “Can I ask you something?”

“Sure.”

She swallowed, a little bit afraid if she were honest. “You were a little upset yesterday when I first told you, but you’ve done very little freaking out since. You’re taking this remarkably in stride. Why don’t you blame me more? Why aren’t you angry? I’ve told you something that changes your life forever. Something you didn’t choose.”

He thought about his answer, a trait she admired. It was a good sign that he thought about his words instead of blurting things out without thinking. “It was an accident,” he said quietly. “And it happened and it can’t be changed, so being angry seems a bit counterproductive. As for why I’m not angry with you?” His gaze met hers. “I was the one who asked you back to my hotel room. I was the one who bought condoms from the vending machine in the bar bathroom—condoms which apparently failed at some point. And above all, what happened isn’t this baby’s fault either. Sometimes you have to play the cards you’re dealt and it usually goes easier if you go with the current of the river instead of swimming against it.”

“Easier said than done,” she murmured.

“You’re preaching to the choir,” he answered, smiling ruefully. “Listen, it’s midafternoon and you look whipped. You didn’t stop for lunch. Why don’t you come in and I’ll order something to eat and you can refuel for the drive back.”

“I shouldn’t take up any more of your time,” she answered. And yet the thought of putting the car in gear and driving for another four hours straight made her feel slightly limp. Then there was the fact that she had to pee. “Maybe I could come in and freshen up, get a drink,” she suggested. “Just for a few minutes.”

“Whatever.”

The March sunshine was bright and soaked through her shirt, feeling good after the closed environment of her car. She shut her car door and gave a big stretch, then laughed. “I feel like a cat in the sun,” she commented, stretching again. “Boy, that feels good.”

Chris’s dark gaze was burning into her again and she suddenly got self-conscious. “Lead on,” she said, diverting her gaze and anchoring her purse strap on her shoulder.

There was no wait for the elevator and within seconds they were at Chris’s door. He unlocked it and they stepped inside the quiet apartment. Lizzie noticed more today. Yesterday she’d been too nervous to register much of her surroundings. It wasn’t a huge space, but it was clean and nicely decorated. The colors were warm, hues of browns and deep reds, and it felt homey even though it lacked a woman’s touch in the little extras. Chris pointed her in the direction of the bathroom and she disappeared down the short hall.

When she came back, Chris was nowhere to be found. The door to the room at the end of the hall was closed—probably his bedroom, she realized, and the muffled sound of water running in the ensuite touched her ears. He’d said he was dying for a shower and clean clothes. She didn’t want to leave without saying goodbye, so she went to the kitchen and got a drink of water and then sat down on the sofa to wait.

The cushions were very comfortable, and with the sound of the shower in the background, her eyelids grew heavy. Just for a moment, she thought, sliding down the cushions a bit more.