The Cowboy's Sweet Elopement Page 6

  It was something she could get used to.

  Brant broke the kiss.

  “Why did you do that?” she murmured.

  “Because here we are again,” he said gently, placing another light peck against her lips. He was addicting, offering something she hadn’t realized she’d been craving. She tightened her hold.

  “Why don’t we want to be here again?” She pulled his willing lips to hers again, opening her mouth to deepen the kiss. He groaned, giving her a sense of power. He had backed her against the washing machine as they kissed, but she didn’t feel trapped. She felt wanted and needed.

  This, right here in Brant’s arms, was where she belonged.

  But somewhere in the back of her mind there was an argument she wanted to ignore. Something about good things turning to bad. About their lives not being perfectly timed.

  Yet Donna had said the right person made everything work out, and that’s how April felt with Brant. Like everything was going to be okay.

  He was the right man, and that meant this could work.

  His hands ran down her sides, then cupped her bottom as he brought her closer. She sighed into his mouth, wishing every kiss on earth could be like this one. She’d never need anything ever again. No oxygen, no food, nothing but Brant and a feeling of being safe and sound.

  “I always want to be here,” Brant said.

  “Hmm?” she murmured, turning her mouth away to speak, while his lips trailed down her neck, causing her to shiver in anticipation.

  “But you said you’re not ready. Did you change your mind?”

  April opened her eyes. She inhaled sharply, her hands against Brant’s powerful chest. He was already stepping away to give her space before she could flex her wrists or ask for what she needed.

  He said nothing, didn’t apologize, didn’t ask if she was okay.

  He was Brant. He just knew.

  And because he knew, he probably recognized just how dangerous she was feeling. How she was willing to renege on those important promises she’d made to herself only that morning. How she wanted to keep diving in, even though a part of her was scared that doing so would ruin everything.

  Brant wanted to close the physical distance he’d put between himself and April. He wanted to ignore the fact that she was breathing hard, hesitance shadowing her eyes. She needed a moment. He knew he was plucking at the pieces of her already broken resolve, and he didn’t want to hate himself later. But that kiss had been hotter and longer, making their Christmas kisses seem sweet and innocent by comparison.

  April was biting her bottom lip, her hands braced on the washing machine churning behind her as though that might hold her back from either strangling him or kissing him. When she looked up at him again he saw fire, passion and fear.

  He liked the first two. The third one was the dragon he had to slay in order to get the princess. Or in his case, the former rodeo queen.

  About a million thoughts ran through Brant’s head, his brain patiently repeating that he needed to say something. Anything. The only problem was that every thought parading around in his mind right now didn’t seem appropriate.

  “I thought about it, April,” he said at last. “I thought about it long and hard. Yeah, I might be rescuing you. But even if you didn’t need any help right now? This is still the exact same place you’d find me.”

  April didn’t speak, her chest expanding.

  “The truth is,” he continued, “you wouldn’t play along, letting me pretend this heat between us was real because you felt grateful or obligated, or feared I’d take it all away. You’re tougher than any game or guilt trip, and if you ever felt obligated to me, you’d tell me to drive off a cliff.”

  A slight smile played at her lips.

  Truth.

  He shifted his weight, taking up some of the space between them. “You can’t fake the heat we have. You can’t fake the way we feel when we look at each other, or when we touch. Why wait? Why give up time we could have together?”

  Her lip was still caught between her teeth, her gaze on his boots.

  He placed his hands over hers on the washing machine, boxing her in. She straightened, her surprise clear. How did she keep that sweet sunshine smell under the hint of veterinary clinic medicine that clung to her bright blue blouse?

  “We’ve known each other almost our entire lives, and when have we ever fought?” He let that idea soak in while he allowed his gaze to trail over her face, taking in the way her cheeks rounded, then curved down to her generous pink lips, and her stubborn chin jutting out at him.

  Her left shoulder dropped, the narrow bit of space between their mouths not seeming to faze her. Her fingers were warm under his, the machine’s cold metal a contrast.

  “Just because we don’t fight doesn’t mean something would work between us right now,” she said, her voice low.

  “You’re scared?”

  She nodded, her eyes damp.

  “I’m not.”

  Her eyes were big, her lips clamped together. She looked pained, but she was listening despite her fears.

  “Know why? We’ve both had crash-and-burn relationships. And yeah, that should make us scared. But I’m not, because if I’d been with the right person, it would have worked out. That person can calm us in anger and settle us when the urge comes to bolt.” He softened his voice even further. “When you’re with the right person, their love helps you overcome your worst fears.”

  Her inhale was shuddery, her eyes suddenly damp.

  “You’ve kept me in your life longer than any other man. You’ve—”

  “Stop.” April raised a trembling hand, yanking it out from under his. “I know we’re good together. I know that. I just don’t want to hurt you, Brant, and I want to be… more.”

  “More? More than what?”

  “I want to be able to offer you more than coupons for Christmas.”

  “Money doesn’t matter to me, April.” She lowered her gaze, and he realized it was about pride and a feeling of self-sufficiency. He barely held his frustration in check. “I know how strong you are.”

  “I don’t feel strong.”

  “Let me be your rock.”

  She laughed, the sound shuddery. “You already are.”

  He smiled, softening his voice to just above a whisper. “You can tell me to wait, and I will. But I’m never going to leave you.”

  He could see the change in her eyes. The desire to believe him, to let go and fall into what they were developing between them.

  “Want to know what I know?” he asked. “I know this.” He ate the minuscule distance between them again, his hips against hers as he clasped his hands on either side of her mouth, drawing her in for a long, hot kiss that left her trembling.

  “There will be no denying that.” He stared into her eyes for a long beat before turning and marching out of her house.

  April propped herself against the humming washing machine for several minutes after Brant left. She exhaled, gripping the neckline of her shirt and pulled it in and out a few times to cool herself down.

  That entire exchange had been hot.

  That all-new side of Brant Wylder had been possibly the sexiest thing she’d ever experienced. He was sweet and gentle, yet willing to hold his ground and push her. Demanding. Sweet. Gentle. Firm.

  She’d never had a man tell her he’d wait for her. They had always been my-way-now-or-hit-the-highway, chickie.

  And Brant had meant it, too.

  But could she handle waiting? Or would she incinerate dealing with all the heat that sizzled between them—especially with that last kiss? Maybe that was what Donna had been saying earlier, about things being different when you were with the right person. It just worked. Everything worked.

  That would mean she didn’t need to wait, become stronger or more independent.

  Brant was already her rock, the strength behind her. But it was risky getting involved with the man who held her entire precarious life in his hands when it
came to her finances.

  That would clear up if Jenny truly offered her a job, and Heath made his child-support payments. Then April wouldn’t be as dependent on Brant, and everything would work out. Right?

  And that could start as early as January—less than a week away.

  But could she really hold her head high, jump into dating Brant and let the town brand him as a home-wrecker?

  What would that do to Kurt?

  Daddy Brant.

  Her son would be elated to have him as part of their family.

  Just like she would. Kurt would be surrounded by love, which would negate any rumors about the speed of her and Brant’s relationship. The fact was, Brant helped her be a good, stable mom who thought before she reacted.

  The only problem with choosing Brant would be how they’d set the rumor mill on fire, but maybe all her worries weren’t nearly as big as she’d once thought.

  Maybe it was time to take it slow and see where their hearts led them, ignoring the world around them and trusting that Brant’s steady practical nature would keep them on the right path.

  After all, he wouldn’t pursue this if it was a bad idea.

  4

  April was really hoping Jenny Oliver had been serious about her job offer at Blue Tumbleweed, because she wasn’t sure she could work for Brant any longer. Whenever he came into the front office of the clinic, which was several times a day, it was as though someone was tickling her spine with tiny electric fingers. At times she became so aware, to the point of distraction, that she found herself turning with a smile before she’d fully realized he was there.

  In other words, she couldn’t get him off her mind, and as a result had already stapled her blouse to two customer receipts today.

  To make matters worse, since Brant had walked out of her house after that consuming kiss on Monday, he’d barely said a word to her. He had spent the past three days torturing her with long, hard stares full of heat.

  The ball was so firmly in her court her racket arm was twitching.

  No wonder he was on her mind. He was giving her space, but also making it very clear what he wanted, and the tension that brought to the relationship was becoming intolerable. Something had to give.

  She needed to come up with a game plan.

  As she flicked the switch to change the Call of the Wyld(er) sign from Open to Closed, those electric fingers worked their way up her back again. She turned, finding Brant at her desk, plopping into her chair.

  “Going out tonight?” he asked.

  “Jackie and I are heading to the Watering Hole.” It was New Year’s Eve, and the saloon was holding its annual party. One long night of dancing, drinking, eating unhealthy bar food, and generally having a good time and making poor decisions.

  “Great, see you there.”

  Before April could reply, he was up and out the door, his key chain swinging idly on his index finger as he whistled his way past the front window.

  If she didn’t whack that ball back into his court tonight she was going to regret it.

  “You’d better watch out, Wylder,” she whispered as he moved out of sight. “You’ve forgotten who you’re playing with.”

  April quickly finished locking up, and yelped in surprise when Robyn, Brant’s upstairs tenant, popped in to do her list of light jobs.

  “You scared me,” April said.

  “Sorry.”

  The expectant teen mom-to-be seemed distracted. “Are you okay?” Fearing the worst, she eyed the girl’s belly, which wasn’t yet showing under her bulky Sweetheart Creek cheer team sweatshirt. Robyn wasn’t due until the summer, and April hoped she was well.

  “Did you take a paternity test with Kurt?” the teenager blurted.

  April was taken aback by the question. She shook her head. “He’s Heath’s. I hadn’t been with Cole in months.” She felt like she’d be telling that to the town long past her death. She paused, realizing the girl might want a test for herself. “Wait… Your baby might not be Blake’s?” It didn’t seem possible, since the devoted pair seemed as though they’d marry young and remain that way well into their eighties.

  “It is,” Robyn confirmed, “but my parents want one.”

  “They do?” Last April had heard, Robyn was emancipated.

  Her eyes filled with tears. “They want to sue Blake’s parents for damages.”

  “Damages?” April felt a wave of anger rising, and forced herself to calm down. Robyn needed a rational adult right now, not more emotion swirling around her. Her parents had kicked her out of the house last month, with Brant and his family ensuring she had proper care and shelter ever since.

  Robyn couldn’t speak through her tears.

  “Hey, it’s okay.” April pulled her into a hug. “What do you need? How can I help?”

  She sniffed. “I don’t want to take a test.”

  “Does Blake want one?”

  Robyn shook her head. “My parents said they’ll take me back if I get one.”

  “Is that what you want?”

  “I don’t know. Everything feels so difficult, so confusing. They’re my parents. But I don’t want them to hurt Blake and his family.”

  April squeezed her again. “Why don’t I look up the info on how to take a test, and then at least you’ll have it. Information is power, right?” Her words felt empty. How could arming Robyn’s parents to better lambaste Blake and his family be in any way a positive? But she understood how important family was, and being cut off from that support at such a young age, and at such a trying time, would be so incredibly difficult. April thanked her own lucky stars that she’d been surrounded by lots of loving people ready to help her do the right thing when she’d found herself unexpectedly pregnant in her twenties. “Would that help?”

  Robyn nodded and pulled away, wiping her eyes. “Thank you.”

  “Anything you need, I’m here.” She waited for Robyn to nod. “Anything. Anytime. Okay? I’ve been through this stuff.” She gave the girl a wry smile. “I know what it can feel like. It’s a lot.”

  Robyn nodded and smiled through her tears, and April, once assured the girl was going to be okay, hurried to pick up Kurt from day care.

  By seven both April and he were fed and on their way to the Sweet Meadows Ranch, where Maria Wylder would take Kurt for a sleepover in her tiny home. She’d moved the three-hundred-square-foot house into the side yard last fall, and Kurt was enamored with sleeping in the miniature building.

  One of the nice things about being in town again, after several years of being forty minutes away, was Maria. April had grown up in her kitchen, and the woman had been more of a mother figure than her own mom, who was living on a sixteenth-floor condo in Dallas. Her mother brokered large real estate deals and worked long hours, her interests nowhere close to April’s or even motherhood. How she and April’s father, a ranch hand who spent his evenings and paychecks on poker and beer, had ever found enough in common to have a child was beyond April.

  Moving onto the ranch as a kid and becoming part of the big, bustling Wylder family had been exactly what April needed. Now, with Heath mostly absent from Kurt’s life, the Wylder clan and their closeness meant something special to her in an all-new way.

  As April turned down the long driveway, she noted lights on in the main ranch house, a rambling affair that had been added onto many times in its fifty years. Maria was often there, so April parked between the matriarch’s restored Mustang and Brant’s veterinarian truck out front. Then she and Kurt headed for the door, after shushing Levi’s dog, Lupe, Brant’s dog, Dodge, Myles’s dog, Buckey, and Maria’s new dog, Bingo.

  “I want a dog!” Kurt laughed, holding Buckey in a loose headlock as the black animal happily licked hiss face.

  “I’m sure Brant will find one for us someday soon.” She’d asked him to stay on the lookout for a suitable pet, not quite sure how she’d pay for it, seeing as Heath was still holding out with variations of his I’ll-see-Kurt-if-you-go-on-a-date-with-me all-or-not
hing offers. He’d made several separate ones now, and it was driving her nuts.

  She was going to have to ask her lawyer to speak to him about their custody agreement, as well as payments. She loved having Kurt more than her share, but Heath’s payments should reflect the uneven distribution of care. As far as she was concerned, if he wanted to play games, he could play them with the lawyers. Although maybe she’d better get her big-eater of a horse off his property. Otherwise she might not have much of a leg to stand on when it came to arguing about money, since, technically, he was currently boarding Cookies.

  Before April could hit the bell, the door opened and Bingo raced inside with a joyful bark. April had been bracing herself to see Brant, and to act normal, but it was Cole who stood there.

  “Hey, hey,” he said. “Happy New Year’s Eve.”

  “Hey.” April tightened her coat around her. “Is your mom here? Or is she at her place?”

  “Thought you might be here to see Brant. I heard rumors about you two.”

  April rolled her eyes and sighed.

  “Brant’s staying with Carmichael. He gave me his room.”

  “That’s nice.” Her body heated at the mention of him, and she tried to contain her smile. “Your mom’s babysitting Kurt so I can go out with Jackie.”

  “Jackie, huh? How’s she doing?”

  “Fine. Is Maria here?”

  She was planning to put some subtle moves on Brant tonight, and that meant she needed to not see him here. She’d squeezed herself into a dress that was a bit too small, and she had to admit it looked fabulous despite its tightness. She wanted to watch Brant’s eyes trace her figure in that way of his that made her proud of her new curves. She’d been able to catch eyes when she’d been younger and thinner, but this was different. Her body seemed to hold a different power and strength, and she’d poured herself into this dress to… Well, she wasn’t sure yet. But she didn’t want him to see her here, as he might feel he had to hide the effect her dress had on him from his family. And she wanted to see it all, unmasked.