Her Bull Rider's Baby Read online

Page 11


  “Lil?”

  Only echoes answered him. Then a faint bark. And another, growing louder, and a scrabbling noise like claws on tile.

  Rufio came bounding out of the dark and leaped straight into Adriano’s arms. He caught the dog with a grunt, the fuzzy body wriggling with joy as Rufio tried to lick every inch of Adriano’s face.

  “Hey,” he said, “I’m happy to see you too. But don’t lick my face off.”

  Rufio just wriggled harder. After the welcome, or lack of one, Adriano had been expecting, the dog’s happiness was a pleasant surprise. He missed having a dog greet him—no human he knew ever got so excited to see him.

  He set Rufio down. “Where’s your mistress?”

  The dog didn’t answer, just stared back at him.

  “You’re no help. Let’s go find her then.”

  Wandering through the house looking for Lil made him realize just how large the house really was. Room after empty, dark room, with no answer to his calls. Not even her brother was there.

  Adriano had known she’d be pissed, but he’d at least hoped she’d have made dinner, something as savory as the gratin and chops she’d made before. She’d gripe at him while he filled his belly with her good cooking, and then he could soothe her ruffled feelings. Not a warm homecoming, exactly, but better than this. This was like coming back to an empty hotel room, his only temporarily, with no one to care if he was here or somewhere else.

  Well, there was still Rufio. The dog was happy to see him.

  Adriano made his way to the kitchen, the last place to look. She must have left a note somewhere. He’d e-mailed her to tell her he was coming back tonight, so she wouldn’t have taken off without leaving a note. Of course, she could have e-mailed or sent a text, which she hadn’t.

  But there was no note. Nothing to indicate where she’d gone. Fine, she was pissed, but disappearing like this was not acceptable.

  He pulled out his phone and called her. One ring. Two rings. And on to five.

  “Hi, this is Lil. Leave a message.”

  He was going to kill her. He shoved his phone back into his pocket and grabbed his hat. Time to brave the lion’s den and see if he could find the mother of his child.

  The pool house was as dark and silent as the main house, but Adriano knocked anyway.

  There was some scuffling and the sound of something falling—something heavy—and then giggling, probably from a woman. A man grumbled, “Goddamn it, somebody better be dead to interrupt right now.”

  “Oh, Benedict,” the woman chided, still laughing.

  Great. Adriano had interrupted their love play. This wasn’t at all embarrassing.

  When Lil’s oldest brother opened his door, he looked about as pissed as Adriano felt.

  “If you’ve come to borrow sugar, we don’t have any.” Benedict went to slam the door.

  Adriano caught the edge of it. “I’m looking for your sister.” He pushed against the door, just enough to let Benedict know he was serious.

  Benedict pushed back—but he wasn’t as strong as Adriano. “She didn’t tell you where she was going?”

  “No.” Would Adriano be here if she had?

  “Well,” Benedict drawled, “maybe she doesn’t want to be found.”

  Probably true. But Adriano wasn’t going to admit that. “She must have forgotten to leave a note.”

  Benedict the Dick only smiled. “Lil doesn’t usually forget things. Maybe you forgot to tell her you were coming back today?”

  Do not punch her brother. But God, just a little tap from his fist, just enough to wipe that smirk off Benedict’s face. “It seems there was some miscommunication,” he said, all smooth confidence. “And it sounds like you don’t know where she is either.” Now it was his turn to smirk.

  That got Benedict riled—he struck Adriano as the kind of man who could never admit he didn’t know something. “She’s at the Stampede. Her and Bea and Penny.”

  Jackpot. Now to find this Stampede. He frowned. “That sounds like a bar.”

  “It is. And a dance hall.”

  “You let your pregnant sister go to a bar?” What the hell kind of brother did that?

  “If you thought I could stop her, then clearly you don’t know my sister.”

  No, Adriano didn’t. And that was the entire problem.

  He drove to the bar in a controlled, steady fashion. Just because it was a bar didn’t mean she was drinking. Just because drunk people did stupid things didn’t mean she was in any danger. He repeated that so often he almost, almost believed it.

  When he arrived, the parking lot was filled with cars, a knot of smokers out by the front doors. The music was loud even outside, and the stomp of a hundred boot heels pounded in time with a line dance.

  Inside, the music banged against his skull, the heat and press of the crowd a clammy cloak that made it hard to breathe. Adriano pushed his way forward, ignoring the curious stares of the men and the appreciative looks of the ladies.

  How the hell he was going to find her in this, he didn’t know. Assuming Benedict had been telling the truth and she wasn’t really at the movies or something. Any place safer than a bar.

  But knowing Lil, she was likely to be here. At least if the Lil he’d seen in Vegas was the real deal.

  He’d start at the bar and work his way to the dance floor. If she was at the bar, the sooner he could get her away, the better. If she was only dancing… Well, again, he had to get her out of here. The volume of the music couldn’t be good for the baby. Didn’t she know that the baby’s ears were already working? She must, because he’d told her to start playing music for the baby.

  Two passes of the bar didn’t turn her up. More than one person gave him a dirty look as he shoved through the crowd—his scowl must have been ferocious.

  All right, she wasn’t at the bar then. Which eased his worry a hair. But she was still in here somewhere.

  And then he heard it, through some miraculous pause in the music. Her laughter.

  Adriano shouldn’t have been able to hear it, not over the general noise, but he had. There, in that corner. That’s where she was.

  Her laughter rang out again, bright, happy, and then the music started up again, drowning her out. No matter. He knew where she was now.

  He forced his way through the crowd, aiming for the spot where the laughter had come from. He couldn’t see her, but he knew she was there. She had to be—no one laughed like she did. He pushed forward again, coming to some tables with groups clustered around them, everyone clutching a beer and shouting to be heard over the music.

  He saw her then. Long hair flowing down her back, tight jeans molded to her ass and thighs, and her sweet mouth tipped up in a smile. And her belly—Jesus, when had that happened?

  There was clearly a bump there, a not-so-gentle curve that came from more than simply a big meal.

  She was showing.

  He had to get her out of here. This was no place for a pregnant woman. Someone could elbow her right in that belly of hers, and then what?

  Time to collect her and take her home. But before he could get her attention, the man standing next to her sidled up close and hooked an arm around her waist.

  What the fuck?

  Instead of punching him in the balls, Lil smiled up at him, tilted her ear close to his mouth to catch what he was saying. Close enough for the man’s lips to touch her skin if she moved even a millimeter.

  Adriano knew this bar was too dangerous for Lil to be in, and he was going to show that son of bitch touching her just how dangerous.

  Lil leaned closer to Beau, laughing at the story he was telling about one of the barn cats and how it had ended up terrorizing one of the bulls today.

  God, but it was loud in here. She didn’t remember the bar being this loud before. Maybe alcohol had a temporary deafening effect and since she wasn’t drinking, the bar was louder than she remembered?

  It also wasn’t as much fun as she remembered. Oh, she had no desire to dr
ink, and she was still having fun… but somehow it was muted. Or at least wasn’t at the pitch she’d imagined when she was twirling Bea around the kitchen.

  She really wouldn’t mind going home if she was being completely honest. But she’d dragged her cousins out, so she couldn’t leave early. Although her feet ached and she could already feel them swelling. A lovely side effect of pregnancy.

  Beau was finishing up his story, which was pretty funny, so she set her hand on his arm, leaned in to tell him—

  He was yanked away from her, quick enough to almost make her fall over. She caught herself and went to glare at the asshole who’d knocked over Beau. Who the hell was trying to pick a fight with him?

  Adriano.

  Her heart jumped and jerked like a startled rabbit. Shit. She had no idea he was coming back tonight. Not that she would have changed her plans or anything. Not for him.

  “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” he growled, his accent thick and rough as he shook Beau.

  “Uh, Adriano?” Beau raised his hands. “It’s me. It’s Beau.”

  Adriano blinked, stared openmouthed at the other man, then blinked some more. “Beau? What are you doing here? And why are you touching my—how do you know Liliana?”

  Time to step in. “He works for me, you idiot,” she snapped. Screamed really, to be heard over the music. “Now let him go.”

  Adriano obeyed, his fists releasing even as his jaw tightened. “You go out drinking with your employees?”

  “He’s not here as my employee.” Not that she owed him an explanation. “He’s here as Penny’s boyfriend.”

  Penny waved sheepishly from across the table.

  “Penny?” Adriano put a knuckle to his forehead, then let his hand drop. As if Lil was giving him a headache with all this. Well, she hadn’t invited him. This is what he got for barging in like a Neanderthal.

  “Yes. Penny, my cousin.” It was hard to put enough sarcasm in the words, shouting as she was, but she tried anyway. “And Beau is her boyfriend. But you already know him from the rodeo, don’t you?”

  “He doesn’t know me,” Bea put in. She held out her hand. “Professor Beatriz Schuler.”

  Oh, Bea did not like him. She only pulled that professor stuff when she wanted to intimidate someone. Although, Adriano had just tried to beat up Beau. Not a great first impression. If he threw this bar trip in her face, she could throw that in his.

  Adriano shook her hand. “Pleased to meet you.” He dropped Bea’s hand and turned back to Lil. “You should not be here.”

  “Why?” Forget that she wasn’t having that great a time, forget that she kind of wanted to go home—she was definitely staying now.

  He wrapped his fingers around her upper arm. Not tight, but not loose. “This place is not for pregnant women.”

  She stared at his hand on her. “I’m not drinking.” Every word a dart of warning. “So what’s inappropriate?”

  “Perhaps we could discuss this outside?” Even in the dim light, she could tell his face was darkening.

  “Perhaps you could just send me an e-mail about it?” she asked as sweetly as she could, given that she was still shouting.

  The song faded to an end, the overall volume of the bar dimming. His fingers didn’t ease for a moment. She held his gaze, not a bit intimidated, as he held her arm. She wouldn’t blink first. She’d never blink first.

  “Liliana!” a somewhat familiar voice trilled. “Liliana Merrill, is that you?”

  Shit. Of all the people to show up right now…

  She turned, pulling her arm from Adriano’s grasp. Luckily, he let her, or else she would have had to wrestle him in the middle of the bar to get free.

  Just as she’d feared. Michelle MacPherson was coming straight for them.

  “Michelle,” she called back with just as much fake happiness. “Such a surprise to see you here!”

  Lil wasn’t lying about that. Michelle had three kids, two of them still in diapers. Lil was amazed she found the time to even leave the house. But Friday night at the Stampede was the best place to collect the latest gossip. The dirtier, the better for Michelle.

  “You too.” She looked Lil up and down. “I heard that you were expecting. Is it true?”

  Judging by that look, Michelle damn well knew she was. Lil put on a fake smile. “Yep.”

  “Wow.” Michelle’s eyes went wide, all fake shock. “That’s so surprising. You being a career girl and all.” She made career girl sound like Lil was standing on a street corner.

  Lil had known this would happen, that word would spread and some people would congratulate her and mean it while others would use it as a cover to jab at her. It was a small town, and she’d been here her entire life—she couldn’t be friendly with everyone. It still sucked though.

  “Well, things change.” She couldn’t keep the tightness out of her voice or her stance.

  “But, honey,” Michelle said, her voice dripping with concern, “you’re not seeing anyone. You’re not even married. Who’s the father?”

  Whoa. That was quite a bit more claw than Lil had been expecting. Did she go full bitch here or pretend that Michelle hadn’t so sweetly insulted her?

  “I am,” Adriano said, his accent heavy.

  He wrapped his arm around her shoulder, pulled her in close. His hold was warm, reassuring, but his expression was grim. Okay, maybe she didn’t need to go full bitch, at least not yet. Not with Adriano stepping up to support her.

  Michelle’s smile slipped when she saw Adriano. “Oh. I don’t think I’ve ever met you.” She frowned. “But you do look familiar.”

  “You watch plenty of rodeo,” Beau said. “This here’s Adriano Silva. I’m sure you’ve seen him riding bulls.”

  Her mouth made a perfect O. “Really?” She looked Adriano up and down, a spark of envy in her eyes.

  Oh, this reaction was delicious. Lil bit her bottom lip to keep from smirking. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to have the story of her pregnancy traveling through town, not if the bit about a smoking-hot bull rider being the daddy was included too.

  “Really,” Adriano said dryly.

  “Well, congratulations.” Michelle sounded a bit stunned, no doubt knocked for a loop by Adriano’s looks. “But should you be here? I mean, it’s really not a good place for a pregnant woman.”

  Michelle couldn’t take off without one last parting shot, could she? Pretty weak one though, considering she was still sneaking glances at Adriano.

  “Don’t worry,” Lil said, “I think I’m smart enough not to accidentally pick up a beer.”

  “Well, you should head home, just to be safe.” Poisonously chirpy.

  Michelle was going to twist this story into Lil being three sheets to the wind, she already knew.

  “But Michelle,” she replied, just as chirpy, “if I’m dumb enough to accidentally drink beer, however will I have the brains to drive myself home?”

  Adriano began to shake next to her, his body bumping hers as he did. He was… he was laughing. Straight up jiggling with it.

  She laughed too, because it really was ridiculous, trading veiled barbs with an acquaintance from high school and flaunting Adriano as some kind of conquest. But mostly because he was laughing and she couldn’t help but laugh with him.

  Michelle stared at them as if they’d gone crazy.

  Adriano took a deep breath, continuing to laugh under his breath. “We’re not here to drink,” he told Michelle. “We’re here to dance.” He pulled Lil closer to him, gave her a scorching look. “Aren’t we, darling?”

  Damn. She’d only wanted to poke Michelle back a bit, but Adriano was getting out the big guns. She liked his style.

  Why couldn’t he be like this all the time? Funny, loose, still a little arrogant—he was a bull rider—but someone she actually wanted to be around.

  She batted her eyelashes at him. “Yep, sugar pie.”

  He waggled his eyebrows, his lips twitching. “In fact, this is our song.” It wasn’
t; the singer was belting out how much he loved his truck. Adriano tugged her toward the dance floor and away from Michelle. “Nice to meet you,” he called over his shoulder.

  Lil didn’t even bother to look back at Michelle as Adriano led her away; her attention was all for him, the confident thrust of his legs as he walked, the nip of his waist, the tightness of his ass. When they hit the dance floor, he pulled her into his arms, closer than was really necessary. And man, could he dance, his hips swinging in a way that ought to be illegal.

  “You know, I’m still mad at you,” she said. Because she was. Even though he smelled sinfully good and felt like heaven pressed up close.

  He leaned in, put his cheek against hers. “What?” He had to growl it into her ear to be heard over the music. She got the shivers anyway.

  “I’m still mad at you.” Hold on to that. Don’t let his sex-god status distract you.

  “I know.”

  When he didn’t go on, she asked, “Don’t you even care?” It sure sounded like he didn’t.

  “I do. But for right now, I want to dance with you. Who was that woman?”

  “Oh, we went to high school together.” She shrugged, because Michelle didn’t concern her a bit. “We really didn’t get along then and we don’t get along now.”

  “What happened?”

  “The usual high school stuff. She’s harmless, really, and I wasn’t always as nice as I could have been to her.” Not that Lil had been a bitch exactly, but she’d been less likely to hold back when she was younger.

  “Ah. Do you know everyone in town?”

  What did he mean by that? Hard to tell when he was talking so close to her ear. Which continued to make her shiver. “Pretty much, since my family’s been here forever. And now Michelle will tell everyone how she saw pregnant Liliana Merrill whooping it up at the bar. She won’t actually say it was scandalous—she’ll let her tone do that for her.”

  “What do you care what she thinks?”

  “Usually I don’t, but when you live in small town… You can pretend you don’t care what people think. But at the end of the day it’s only that. Pretending.”