Cowboy Husband - Page 8

A family. We’re going to have a family.

“I thought you might be glad to hear it today,” she says, breathless with laughter, when I finally stop attacking her with kisses long enough to ask how long she’s known. “I just found out two days ago, but with the wedding coming up, I figured it was good surprise to save.”

“The best.” I lean down, kneeling at the edge of the bed to cup her belly gently between my hands. I plant a kiss right over her navel, and grin up at her. “We’re going to have a family.”

“I know.” She slides off the bed onto the floor beside me. Leans down to kiss the tattoo on my chest. “Just what your father would have wanted.” She leans up to kiss me again, softer this time. “And I know that you’ll be a great father too. Just like him.”

THE END

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Copyright © 2017 by Penny Wylder

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1

This is a terrible idea. I know it the moment the newly refilled drink is put in front of me, but I pick it up and down it anyway, grimacing at the sharp taste of vodka contrasted with the sweetness of cranberry. I should sip it, slow down. But fuck it, this is Vegas, right?

I slam the empty glass down on the table and give up a cheer. It’s echoed by my friends, all just as drunk as I am. We’re not totally gone, but I can feel it. The perfect buzz to have a good time.

“How are you feeling, Sandy?” The voice is loud in my ear. Anna is my no-bullshit best friend and this whole trip was her idea.

“I’m okay.” I yell back. It’s loud in this club and yelling is the only way that she’s going to hear me.

Elizabeth leans over the table. Of all of us, she looks the best tonight, blonde hair bouncing in giant curls and a sequin dress that makes her body look fantastic. She grabs my hand. “We need you to be better than okay! We need you to feel fucking awesome! Fuck Wyatt. You don’t need that piece of shit.”

My stomach drops. For a few minutes I’d actually forgotten the shit that is my life. The last two weeks feel like they’ve been some kind of nightmare. But if you can’t wake up from the nightmare, what can you call it? That’s the question I’ve been asking myself because I can’t fucking wake up. Two weeks ago today, I was sitting in a cake shop, waiting for Wyatt to come help me choose our wedding cake. He was late and not answering my texts. And then the call from my mom to come home immediately. The wave of rage that hits me in the gut is so strong that I think it might knock me over.

I didn’t see it coming even though I feel like I should have. Wyatt was gone, and so was Laura. My younger sister. Together, on a trip to Mexico. Shit. I feel like I’m going to throw up again. The same feeling I get every time I think about it. That, along with a crippling rage that makes me want to choke the life out of Wyatt. My sister. My sister?

Naomi hits Elizabeth in the arm. “We’re not mentioning the W-word, remember?”

“Shit.” Elizabeth sees the look on my face—probably nauseous. “Sorry, Sandy.”

I wave a hand. “It’s okay.”

“Seriously though,” she says. “I know that we’ve said it a lot, but it’s messed up. If it were my sister…”

“What am I supposed to do?” I ask, rolling my eyes. “She’s my sister, and I don’t own Wyatt. Maybe they’ll be happier together.” Though I really fucking doubt it. Can’t say that I’ll be surprised when he pulls the same shit on her that he pulled on me. It’s a good thing we don’t have another sister. I guess he’ll need to find a new family to traumatize.

“Well,” Naomi says, “I know for a fact that you will be happier without that asshole. If only for tonight.”

I manage a laugh. “And how do you know that?”

She moves her head pointedly across the club. “Mr. Tall, Dark, and Delicious over there looking at you. I’ve been keeping track and he’s barely taken his eyes off you.”

“There are four of us here, Naomi. He could be looking at anyone.”

“No, he’s looking at you.”

I know she’s trying to distract me, and it’s working. “You can’t possibly know that.”

“I can. Because when I went to get the last round of drinks, I asked him.”

Elizabeth gasps, “You did what?”

Naomi gives her a look. “The whole point of this trip is to take care of Sandy. Let her have a good time, get drunk and get laid. Well, tonight’s our last night and as her roommate, I can tell you that getting laid hasn’t happened. So I’m taking things into my own hands.”

Anna has her hands over her mouth, stifling laughter. I’m not sure whether I want to join her or if I should be shocked like Liz. I’m somewhere in between. The alcohol in my bloodstream is enough to relax me. And to be honest, even though we were engaged, Wyatt and I hadn’t had sex for a while. Probably because he was having sex with my sister. Another wave of anxiety hits me. I refocus on the man that Naomi has pointed out across the room. It’s dark and people are passing between us, but I feel a jolt of electricity between us. I probably imagined it; everything feels more dramatic since Naomi’s declaration. But he’s definitely looking at me. A strange blend of anxiety and anticipation shivers down my spine.

“What did you say to him?” I ask Naomi.

“I asked him if he was looking at you. He said he was. So I told him that staring from across the room isn’t going to do anyone any good. So if he means it, he needs to buy us a round of drinks and come over.”

“Oh my god,” Elizabeth says.

I look again, and really look. I can see why Naomi called him Tall, Dark, and Delicious. Wavy dark hair that’s just a little too long, and sharp features that carry even from across the room. My imagination takes over, and I can see us together, tangled in the dark and panting. A sharp need lances through me, and the actual possibility of this hits me. If he is deciding whether to come over, I want to make sure I look okay. “I’m going to the bathroom for a touch-up,” I say, standing and making my way from the table before anyone volunteers to come with me.

My gut tells me I need a few seconds alone to evaluate this. Sure, he’s hot. I can see that from across the room. But am I ready for a one-night stand? I touch up my lipstick in the mirror, savoring the few moments of quiet; the club’s music is muffled in here. Confidence comes, swift and sudden. Why shouldn’t I

be ready? Wyatt didn’t even give me the courtesy of breaking up with me before he moved on. Why should I observe some kind of ridiculous mourning period over a relationship that was clearly broken? Fuck Wyatt. Maybe Naomi’s right and I do need to get laid. And maybe Mr. Delicious is just the man to do it.

Wyatt never would have let me do this—Vegas. The thought of me in Vegas without him would have driven him crazy. He barely liked me to go out with Anna, always asking who I was really with and sometimes showing up unexpectedly. He had nothing to be jealous of, though. I never cheated, and I’m not exactly the party girl type. Maybe I’ve been missing out. Defiance rises in me like a tide. I think I should go out and have some fun, if only to prove to that asshole that he’s an idiot. I suppose I should hope that he makes Laura happy, but I’m not a big enough person to feel that right now. Maybe I’ll get to the place where I can. Right now, I just want to kick him in the balls. Repeatedly.

Sweeping on a little more mascara, I give myself one final look over. I adjust my dress a little, but there’s nothing else I can see that’s wrong. My girls and I did a good job in our hotel rooms tonight. I look good.

I come out of the bathroom and freeze. Mr. Delicious is sitting at our table. In my spot. If I’m going to sit back down, we’re going to be squeezed together. Which Naomi probably suggested. I approach the table slowly, and Anna sees me first. There’s a big smile on her face as she yells, “Welcome back!” The mystery man turns, and…

Holy hell.

Naomi was all kinds of right. This man is candy. I could tell he was gorgeous from across the room, but up close, he’s fierce and powerful. The suit he’s wearing is sculpted to him, emphasizing broad shoulders and a powerful chest. And his eyes…dark and deep and focused right on me. Heat flows through me and I swear time stops for a second. Or at least it feels that way. Naomi leans over to him and says, “This is Sandy.”

There’s a flash of heat in his eyes, and he extends a hand to me. “Hello Sandy. I’m Wilcox.” That voice is caramel smooth and I wish I could be wrapped up in it forever. It’s probably just the alcohol, but damn.

I meet his hand with mine and he pulls it toward him, pressing his lips to it. Tingles fly up my skin and– oh god– I never thought a kiss on the hand could feel that intimate. Wow.

There’s a tiny smile playing around his lips. “I seem to have taken your seat.”

“Yes, you have.”

“We could share if you like.”

He’s still holding my hand, and it’s very distracting. “You want me to sit in your lap?”

Behind him, Anna and Naomi are making screaming faces and are desperately gesturing at me to do it. Elizabeth looks less sure. Wilcox only smirks. “I’ve been told it’s pretty comfortable. I can provide references if you like.”

I tilt my head, returning his smirk. “You’re going to provide the phone numbers and email addresses of the other women you’ve held on your lap to convince me? Doesn’t seem like the best first move.”

He laughs, a rich, throaty sound that does interesting things to my body. “I was actually going to suggest my niece and nephew. It’s their favorite place to sit whenever I’m available.”

“Well,” I say, blushing. “If it’s good enough for them.”

I’m not exactly sure how to sit in someone’s lap considering I haven’t done it since kindergarten. Wyatt never liked that kind of cuddling. I lean down and perch on Wyatt’s knee. It’s awkward and not exactly comfortable, but there’s no way I can just stand in these heels.

“I promise I don’t bite,” he says, that perfect honey voice so close. His hands wrap around my waist, and he lifts me closer so that I’m actually settled across his lap. We’re still squeezed tight, and I can feel my shoulder brushing Naomi’s behind me, but he’s right, this is actually pretty comfortable. I look up and realize that our faces are just inches apart. My heart shoots into high gear and my breath is completely gone. Wilcox smirks again as if he knows. “Better?”

“Much.”

“Good.” Wilcox reaches toward the table with the arm that isn’t snugly around my waist and picks up a glass. “As instructed, I brought you and your friends drinks.”

I take it from him and sip. A burst of sweet fruit splashes across my tongue, and it only gets deeper. “That’s really good.” I’m already a few drinks in, and I’m not sure how much more I should have. But then again, I’m aiming to have fun, right? I look back up into his eyes, and at this close distance, I can see that they’re a rich brown. “What kind of name is Wilcox, anyway?”

He chuckles, and I feel it vibrate through his chest. Which makes me notice his chest and exactly how close to it I am. “A family one,” he says. “Grandfather. But most people call me Will.”

“Okay, Will,” I say, taking another sip of my drink. “What brings you to Las Vegas?”

“I think probably the same reason as you—to have a bit of fun.”

A laugh bursts out of me, louder than expected. “Sure, I came to have fun, but I certainly hope you didn’t come for the same reason.”

“Why not?” His question is sincere, and I know that I probably shouldn’t tell something so personal to a complete stranger, but my filter is breaking down. And frankly, it feels good to be able to say it out loud. To say that it happened without being consumed by grief and rage. “Well,” I say, “if you came for the same reason as me, then your girlfriend of two years and finance of six months would have run off with your younger sibling. So I hope that didn’t happen to you too.” I take another swig of my drink, and Will catches my hand.

“He left you for your sister?”

Naomi’s voice comes from behind me. “Sure did, the asshole.”

I’m close enough to see his jaw tighten, and there’s an anger that appears in his eyes. “I’m sorry that happened to you. He didn’t deserve you.”

Taking another drink, I look away. “Thanks.”

“I saw you the moment you walked in and I haven’t been able to look away,” he says so softly to me so that only I can hear. “I’ve never met this man, but he was a fool to let you go.” His hand tightens on my hip, and my body thrills to his touch.

“We just met,” I say. “How can you say that?”

“Have you ever met someone and known immediately that they would be in your life? That they would affect you?”

I can’t look away from his eyes and I’m mesmerized by both him and his words. I nod.

“There you go. We’ve just met, but I know that you could never deserve anything like that.”

Heat is flowing through my body, and I’m suddenly acutely aware of all the places that we’re touching. The question bubbles up on my lips, and I’m pressing myself closer to him. “What do I deserve?”

Will’s eyes flick down to my lips and back up to my eyes. The tug in my gut tells me that he’s going to kiss me, and the butterflies tell me that I want him to. “Something more,” he says, and then his lips come down on mine. Somewhere I can hear the cheering of my friends, but I’m lost, drowning in sensation. Will’s lips are soft and firm, pressing against mine and coaxing them open. His hand slides up my back to cup my neck, and he pulls me closer. I can’t ever remember being kissed like this before. It’s opened up a wildfire inside me, and I want more. More.

We break apart, both gasping for breath. “Maybe we could go somewhere more private?”

Naomi hears and I feel her hands on my back, pressing me, telling me to go. My mind is still swimming with the kiss, and I can’t look away from him. “Yes.”

2

Anna tosses me my purse with a smirk. “We won’t wait up.”

I smile at her as Will sets me on my feet and takes my hand, and I can’t believe I’m actually doing this. But that kiss…yeah, I think that this is going to be a fun night. Fuck Wyatt and his jealousy. Fuck him and the fact that he’s sucked the fun out of my life for the last two years while I barely noticed. Tonight I’ll be with Mr. Delicious, and it will be glorious. I

thought that we’d go back to his booth across the club, but we don’t. Will pulls me through the club towards the back, where a bouncer that’s at least twice my size lurks in front of a curtain. He doesn’t even bat an eye as Will pushes through and brings me with him.

It’s dark for a second, and then Will pushes aside anther curtain to reveal a private alcove, and a booth that’s all our own. Not that we make it that far. My back is against the wall inside the alcove as soon as we’re through the curtain His lips are on mine instantly. God, what have I been missing with Wyatt all this time? He never kissed me like this, and even if he had, I don’t think that it would have felt this way. I feel doubly drunk now, both from my drinks and his lips. “I like your mouth,” I say. Not the most eloquent sentiment, but I think eloquence is a bit beyond me right now.

Will makes a low sound in his throat. “Your mouth drives me crazy.”

He pulls me down onto the couch, and I notice that there’s a bottle and glasses on the table that I don’t think were there before. Someone must have come in while we were pinned against the wall. I blush because someone saw us—me— like that. He pours a glass of the champagne and hands it to me. “Shall we toast to chance meetings and moving on from bad situations?”

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