Her Bull Rider's Baby Read online

  But Adriano wasn’t her husband. He growled it without shame into her ear as his thrusts grew more rapid, more wild. A deep thrum started in the base of his spine.

  She only moaned again in response, so he fucked her harder, spreading her legs wider, opening even more of her to him.

  Close. He was so close. But she had to come first.

  “Lil.” A growl. A plea. “Lil.”

  She put her hand over his, working away at her clit. He stilled his fingers, then pressed hard. She liked that, the weight against her most sensitive spot. He didn’t need to be her husband to have learned that. Her hips flexed urgently, forcing him to keep up with her, and all of her pulsed as she came.

  Finally. Her pussy shuddered around his cock, pushing him toward his own climax. He came a second later, hips pistoning as he spilled within her, his thoughts nothing but a smear of pleasure plastered across his closed eyelids.

  He held her close for long moments, still joined, both of them panting.

  A husband would appreciate this afterglow just as much as he had the first time. It wouldn’t lose any of its charm with repeat experiences.

  Adriano wasn’t certain if he wanted to be a husband—not if it meant never returning home—but he did want to experience this with Lil again.

  She was breathing fast, her back brushing against his chest with each inhale.

  “Are you all right?” he asked. Her breathing was beginning to worry him.

  “Yes.” Soft and a touching wondering. “That was… whew.”

  He buried his face in her neck, breathed deeply of her scent. He had slipped out of her at some point, but he remained curved around her, most of her pressed against him.

  Sleep beckoned at the edges of his brain, made his eyelids droop and his thoughts transparent. But one pressed forward, pushed itself toward his tongue.

  Before he slipped completely into dreams, it slipped out: “Come with me.”

  “With you? Where?” Her own words were heavy with drowsiness.

  “To my next competition. Come with me.” He didn’t want to be apart from her, not even for a few days.

  This was how it began, the loss of focus, of purpose, that he feared. Needing her and giving in to that need like this. But too late. He couldn’t even summon his mantra to remind him of why he shouldn’t ask her this. All he could think was: It’s just this once. And I don’t want to leave her.

  “When is it?” she asked.

  “In three weeks.” Crazy of him to ask her after being back for only a day. Who knew if they would even be getting along in three weeks, after all that time in each other’s pockets?

  Crazy of him to expect her to say yes right away, with no hesitation. Crazy of him to be disappointed that she hadn’t.

  “Okay.” Her agreement was sleep drunk. But she had agreed.

  “Good.” He rubbed his face in her hair, taking in her scent as she breathed contentedly.

  Would she remember in the morning?

  Would he?

  If they both did, it was meant to be. He closed his eyes, let the worry slip from him. And for the first time in a long time, Adriano let fate decide for him.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Sharing a room at a rodeo—this was a novel experience for Lil.

  She set her bag on the bed and looked around as Adriano shut the door behind him. One king-size bed. They better not get into a fight or the sleeping situation would get hairy.

  Not that it was likely. The past three weeks together, her working, him training, dance lessons in the evening, sharing breakfast and dinner and a bed—heck, even the flight here—everything had been great. They’d laughed over the baby-shower invitations Bea had sent, debated more stuff for the baby—did she really need a high chair right from the get-go?—and spent some time going over bucking-bull stats. Beau knew his stuff, but Adriano’s perspective was just different enough to be valuable.

  She liked working with him. And maybe he liked working with her. Maybe enough to think about staying. Maybe.

  Her fingers tightened on the handle of her bag, her knuckles going white. A big maybe. He still had a family and a sick mother back home. No amount of getting along would change that.

  And it had only been a few weeks of working together and living together. She shouldn’t make the mistake of thinking that was enough to change his course.

  But this was their first rodeo as a couple. Which was what they were now. A baby on the way, living together, traveling together—what else could they call it?

  Yet the concept made her a touch uneasy. Or maybe she was uneasy about the fact that they hadn’t talked about what was happening. Couldn’t say how long their coupledom would last.

  She took a deep breath, released the handle of her bag. Day by day. That was how they’d agreed to take this. She turned to him as he came toward her. He tossed his bag next to hers, then pulled her in for a kiss. “Remember the last time we were in a hotel room together?”

  She certainly did. The evidence of it was a big lump between them. “Want to try out the bed?” They didn’t have anywhere to be, and his mention of the last time in a hotel room was stirring some very hot memories.

  “I would.” He kissed her again, then pulled away with a low groan. “But we have to feed you first.”

  For all that they’d been getting along, he was still pretty bossy. He meant well, but man, could he bark orders when he wanted to. She flopped down on the bed. “I know better than to argue.”

  “You’re learning,” he said with mock wonder. “I never thought it possible.”

  Bossy and funny. Although she liked his jokes better than his orders. “You’re lucky you’re so good in bed. Otherwise I’d never put up with your smart mouth.”

  He set one knee on the bed and leaned over her. “You didn’t call it smart last night. In fact, you said—”

  She laid a hand across his mouth. “That’s enough out of you.” If he kept going like that, she was going to have to tear his clothes off. And when he’d mentioned food, she’d discovered she was hungry. “Where do you want to eat?”

  He nipped at her palm, and she snatched her hand back. “There’s a Brazilian restaurant here we usually go to.”

  We. He must mean the other Brazilians. “Is that like an Argentinian steak house?”

  He snorted. “It’s much better. You don’t mind eating with the other guys, do you? Most of them don’t speak much English.”

  “My Portuguese is getting better.” The dance lessons had included some language lessons too. She was picking up the dance quicker than Portuguese though, no matter how similar it was to Spanish.

  “Yes, hello and how are you? will get you far.” He was teasing, but there was a flicker of unease deep in his amber eyes. This was important to him, even though he was playing it off as casual.

  She lifted a hand to his cheek. “Of course I want to meet them. They’re your friends.”

  He had worked at fitting into her life—and now she would do the same for him. And happily so.

  In the end, the language barrier wasn’t so bad. A few of the other riders greeted her in English, and Adriano translated Miguel Barros’s greeting—she had the sense Adriano looked up to him—but the rest of it was all Portuguese, stories and jokes and laughter spinning throughout the entire meal.

  The service was similar to Argentinian barbecue, with grilled meat carved tableside, but the food was quite different. There were chicken hearts (she passed on those), grilled pineapple (which she loved), and something called aipim, which looked like french fries. And everyone was very excited when a cut of meat called picanha was brought to the table.

  Adriano leaned into her ear. “You can’t find this here, not easily. You’ll like it.”

  She did. She loved it—and not just the food. She loved how relaxed and happy Adriano was.

  He was chattering away in Portuguese, a permanent smile on his face, most of his attention focused on everyone else. But his arm was slung around her shoul
ders, holding her tight to him, and every bit of food on her plate he’d given to her, not letting her dish anything out herself.

  Before she’d met him, she’d have thought that kind of behavior weird, controlling—and she’d have run for the hills. But with him, surrounded by his friends and his brand of comfort food, she realized he wasn’t trying to control her. He was sharing this with her. This was a tiny slice of his homeland that he wanted her to enjoy.

  So she sat back, ate what he put in front of her, let the unintelligible conversation wash over her, and simply watched him. His shoulders loose and relaxed. His white teeth flashing as he laughed. His eyes warmed to the luster of new gold as they gleamed with amusement. His arm heavy across her shoulders, anchoring her.

  She realized then why he had to return to Mato Grosso do Sul—really, truly realized it, deep in her gut. Nowhere else had she seen him look happier. He was content enough with her back in Cabrillo, but here, among other Brazilians, he was at home.

  She pushed her plate away, the realization beginning to curdle in her belly.

  She couldn’t keep the baby with her, not if it meant Gabriela didn’t get to see her father like this. Because this was Adriano at his very best. Gabriela deserved the very best.

  Lil rubbed at her eyes, breathed through the weight of that decision.

  She’d have summers with her daughter and maybe one day Gabriela would want to stay in America. Her stomach turned over. That would hurt Adriano so badly, having his daughter choose to leave him.

  “You okay?” Adriano put his mouth near her ear, his breath warm, the concern in his voice vibrating against her skin.

  “Yeah.” She cleared her throat, blinked away the stinging in her eyes. “Just full.”

  Just half in love with you.

  Idiot. She was an idiot. She’d known the score going into this, and it wasn’t like she’d never see him again—they were going to have a kid together. She’d see him occasionally at least.

  But it would make her happy to see him more than occasionally. She’d be ecstatic to have him here with her more permanently. Working with her on training the bulls. Teaching her how to dance. Raising their daughter together on her family’s ranch.

  But he would be heartbroken at losing that connection with his homeland.

  She sighed, stared at her plate. So there they were. Back where they’d started. Except her feelings ran deeper now. And it would hurt worse when he left.

  “Hey.” He grabbed her hand, ran his thumb across her knuckles. “Are you sure you’re okay? We can leave if you don’t feel well.”

  She took a deep breath, put on as good a smile as she could manage. “Nope. Fine.”

  He smiled, not that he’d ever really stopped since they got here. “Want to try out your dance lessons?”

  She pushed her sadness away. He was still here now and he wanted to dance. She’d enjoy today and worry about tomorrow when it came. Day by day—that was their agreement. “Sure.”

  He pulled her to her feet. “Only for a couple of songs. We need to be getting to bed soon.”

  There was nothing lascivious there, which meant he was thinking about being rested for his ride tomorrow.

  When they arrived at the dance floor, Adriano pulled her close into a slow, sexy dance, crooning along to some sertanejo she didn’t recognize. He had a lovely voice, deep and rich. She closed her eyes, the better to savor his voice and his body moving her with the music.

  “Did you have fun?” he asked. A little wistful, as if he was worried she might say no.

  “Yeah. Everyone was great.” He didn’t have anything to worry about—even with the language barrier, she’d enjoyed herself, if only to see him happy, so at home in his skin.

  His hand tightened on her waist. “I should have translated more.”

  “No, honestly, I had a good time.” She looked up at him, so handsome, so serious now. “I liked all your friends.” She dropped her gaze, his expression too much for her at the moment. “You’re really comfortable with them.” Her voice caught on that last, even as she steered it toward steadiness.

  He was quiet for long moments as he led her through the dance. “I’m comfortable with you.”

  She closed her eyes for a brief second. “Not like you are with them.”

  He knew it too—she could hear it in the way he’d said he was comfortable with her.

  “I hope not quite the same.” A tease from him.

  But she didn’t smile. When the song ended she said, “I’m tired and you’ve got a big day tomorrow. Can we just head back?”

  She had the sudden urge to be alone with him, to have him completely to herself, his focus entirely on her. Selfish, yes, but if she couldn’t have him for as long as she wanted, she’d be grabby while she could.

  When they got back to the hotel room, they readied for bed together. Their usual routine, only in a different place. Funny how quickly they’d fallen into this pattern. She’d miss it when he left.

  They crawled into bed together, and he curled around her. Her gut cramped at the thought of sleeping alone again. She’d more than miss this—it would kill her to say good-bye to him. But he was with her now and she was going to take the time she’d been given. She rolled over, took his face in her hands, lowered her mouth—

  “Lil.” He wrapped a hand around her arm, moved his mouth out of her reach. “I have to ride tomorrow.” Regretful. But firm.

  The air hissing from her deflated ego had to be audible even to him. “Yeah. You’re right. Sorry, I forgot.”

  He hadn’t put those kinds of restrictions on them in Vegas. So what was different now? And why was she letting it hurt so much?

  She rolled away from him and curled deeper around her belly. It was all right. This was their deal.

  He set a hand on her shoulder. But nothing more.

  She lay there for long hours, staring into the darkness, his hand never moving from its perch on her shoulder.

  Adriano was in his own world. His own head.

  Lil could see that the instant he’d woken up. He’d hardly spoken to her from the moment they’d climbed out of bed, and even his demand that she eat breakfast was halfhearted.

  She nursed her only cup of coffee for the day and watched him, her own plate already clean. Her appetite, which had been good before, was almost ravenous now. If she wasn’t nibbling something every fifteen minutes, her stomach got put out and let her know it.

  He’d left half of his own breakfast when usually he had the appetite of Rufio set loose in a ham shop. His gaze was fixed on the food left on his plate, but she didn’t think that was what he was seeing. Not with that thousand-yard stare of his.

  He was touching his thumb to each of his fingers in turn—forefinger, middle, ring, pinkie, then all over again.

  Maybe he was meditating. Maybe he was praying, counting off the decades on his fingers.

  Whatever he was doing, he was far away from here and her. Probably already on the back of a bull, at least in his mind.

  “Ready?” She set her coffee mug down. She didn’t need to be greedy for his attention just now. He was going to risk his life later today—he should do whatever was needed to prep for that. “I’ve got a meeting with Bob Stanton in fifteen minutes. Let’s see if he sells us some of those cows we were looking at.”

  Bob had been weirdly noncommittal about selling her the cows when she’d e-mailed him two weeks ago. When she found he’d be here and Adriano wanted her to come anyway… well, it was the perfect opportunity to hammer things out face-to-face.

  Bob was an old friend of her dad’s, so he’d probably sell her the cows. But he also thought Lil had no business raising bucking bulls. And then there was the issue of her clearly visible bump… She heaved a sigh. She still hadn’t heard back from the rodeo committee, so she was due for some good news here, right?

  Adriano nodded absently to tell her he was ready, but when she reached for her wallet to pay, he glared as he went for his own. Maybe he wasn
’t quite as inattentive as she’d thought.

  They made their way to the arena where some cowboys were putting the finishing touches on the chutes. She waved to people she knew, Adriano waved to others, and then they were at the gate that led behind the chutes. She couldn’t go past that gate—from here on, they’d have to go their separate ways.

  Stop being so melodramatic. You’ll see him again in a few hours.

  “Well, good luck,” she said, shoving her hands into her back pockets to keep from reaching out for him.

  He stared at her for a long moment, then glanced around them as if checking to see who was watching. Finally, he pulled her into his arms. Not for anything lustful—just to hold her tight.

  She held him back just as tight, her belly between them. Be safe. Come back to us.

  When he released her, she wasn’t ready to let him go. But she had to. She watched him disappear behind the gate, her tongue between her teeth so that she didn’t call after him and draw attention to them.

  Besides, she had a meeting to go to. They both had work to do here.

  Bob Stanton had lost most of the hair on his head and added quite a bit more padding to his belly, but mostly he was exactly as he’d been since Lil was a kid—brash, with a loud laugh and a punishing handshake.

  “Lil.” He somberly shook her hand this time, still with too much force. But he didn’t pull her in for a hug.

  Uh-oh. That was bad.

  “Mr. Stanton.” Best to start from a position of youthful respect, applying to her elder for help. “It’s great to see you. How are Mrs. Stanton and Donny?”

  “They’re fine.” He looked worried. And a touch uncomfortable. “How are your mom and dad?”

  “They’re great.” She forced herself to be cheerful. “They said to say hi. They’ll be in Tulsa this year in July and hope to see you there.”

  “Yeah.” But he didn’t sound enthusiastic about it.

  Okay. If he didn’t want to chat, they could get down to business. “About those cows I e-mailed you about—”