Wild Cowboy Nights (Foolproof Love 1-3)

His eyes changed, sharpening like a wolf circling a fuzzy bunny. “I know.” He continued before she could process that he’d just Han Solo–ed her ass. “I’ve been holding a flame for you, too. I just never thought I’d get a chance—deserve a chance—to be with you again.”

That was the crux of the matter. He still blamed himself for everything that had happened. She wasn’t idiot enough to think that seven days were enough to change that. She had a decade of therapy under her belt and sometimes she was still caught by the random thought that maybe if she hadn’t had anything to drink, hadn’t been so wrapped up with the promise of a full night alone with Daniel, she would have convinced them not to drive back to Devil’s Falls that night. The guilt never lasted, but only because she’d had it pounded into her head time and time again that she couldn’t go back and change anything. That no one in their car had done anything wrong.

That the true fault lay with the other driver, the one who had veered into their lane.

Daniel hadn’t had the benefit of a neutral party telling him the same thing over and over again until he almost believed it. It would be a long, long time before she could make any headway with him—if ever. If she tried this thing with him for real, she’d have to face that. Trying to change him would only result in misery for both of them.

I hate that he’s been killing himself with guilt this entire time.

He stroked her stomach, his big hand stretching from one hip to the other. “It’s weird to think that there’s a baby in here. Aside from you being willing to cut someone’s throat for Greek yogurt, nothing’s really changed—and everything has.” The slow drag of his calluses over her sensitive skin made her shiver. “Do you think it’s a boy or a girl?”

She huffed out a laugh. “I don’t know. Fifty-fifty chance.”

“Yeah, I guess.” A wicked glint appeared in his eyes. “What if it’s twins?”

“Daniel Rodriguez!” She covered his hand with her own. “Why would you say such a horrible thing to me? You remember the Conley twins? I’m pretty sure their mother wasn’t the least bit crazy before she had them, but by the time they graduated she was about ready to commit herself just to get some peace and quiet.”

“Still.” He kept up his absentminded stroking, trailing his fingers across her stomach. “I wouldn’t mind being daddy to a little girl. I bet she’d have your get-up-and-go.” A small line appeared between his brows. “Though the thought of her getting into the kind of trouble we got into isn’t going to make me sleep better at night.”

“We weren’t that bad as kids.” They’d gotten into the same mischief that most teenagers in small towns across America did—bonfires, a little drinking, a whole lot in the way of flirting.

Daniel kissed her temple. “No, not too bad. But it’s different when it’s our kid.”

Our kid.

She still hadn’t quite wrapped her mind around that fact, but it was nice talking like this—like they might both be together by the time the little boy or girl had grown into a hell-raising teenager. “I’d be more worried if the baby is a boy. You four were the ones who got into more trouble than I could dream up.”

A cloud passed over his face, but he made a visible effort to smile. “They did call us the Four Horsemen.”

She’d forgotten about that. She shifted. “It’s all happened so fast. I’m still having a hard time wrapping my mind around the fact I’m pregnant at all, let alone that there will be a baby in May.” A baby. She laced her fingers through Daniel’s. Would the baby have his crooked grin? Her eyes? A mass of dark hair like all the Rodriguez cousins seemed to?

It doesn’t matter. I’ll love him or her the same.

The fierce feeling nearly took her breath away. Hope hadn’t put much thought into being a mother after she and Daniel went their separate ways. It had just hurt too much to contemplate, and though she’d dated a bit over the years, she hadn’t met anyone who’d really made her consider it seriously again. She’d gotten to the point where she was more or less resigned to being childless, though she was only thirty-one. But in this quiet moment, the rightness of it settled into her chest.

“I was thinking about looking for another place.”

She frowned. “Why? This house is perfectly adequate.” It wasn’t the house they’d always dreamed of, but that didn’t mean there was anything wrong with it, other than it being the obvious residence of a guy who lived alone with his dog.

“Not big enough.” His voice gained a rough quality that was almost embarrassment. “Not really kid friendly, either. They start moving pretty quick from what I understand. Hard to close off any of the rooms, and the kitchen is just asking for trouble.”