Her Bull Rider's Baby Read online

  His phone buzzed in his back pocket, but he ignored it. As he had for the past six—seven?—hours. He fumbled for the room card in the same pocket, the phone angrily vibrating against his hand as he did.

  The door handle flashed green once he got the damn card in, and he stumbled into the room.

  Darkness greeted him. She wasn’t there.

  He hung on to the door handle for a moment, halfway in, halfway out. He’d expected her to be there, waiting for him. But he wasn’t certain he was disappointed she wasn’t.

  She’d slept with Crane. And what had happened after—

  “Adriano?” Watery. Uncertain. From a far corner in the darkened room.

  He froze. She was there. And she’d been crying.

  “It’s me.” His voice was a deep scrape, exhaustion bleeding out of it.

  She flipped on the light. Her face was blotchy, bone white beneath the patches of red staining her eyes and cheeks. She looked as if she’d been weeping for hours.

  His heart twisted into a knot similar to the one his gut was already in. He shut the door softly behind him.

  “Where have you been?” Fresh tears began to slide down her cheeks. “They announced that you wouldn’t be riding in the rest of the event but didn’t say why. And I called and called and called, but you never answered. I thought…” Her voice died as she turned her face away. “After seeing you get hung up, I thought something terrible had happened.”

  Something terrible had happened. But not like she thought.

  When he didn’t answer, she looked up. “Why didn’t you answer? What happened?” Panic made the edges of her words razor sharp.

  He blinked at her. The mother of his child. The woman he’d thrown a kiss to in front of a thousand people. “Did you sleep with Crane?”

  The redness drained from her face, leaving only bleached white behind. “What?”

  The starkness of that almost hurt him. Almost. “Colby Crane? An asshole, about so tall? Blond, blue eyed? A bull rider?” He was hurting her, he could tell. He kept on. “The son of a bitch that I have to pretend to be an idiot with so I don’t beat the shit out of him?”

  She put her fingertips to her lips. “He’s the one. The one who makes comments to you. And you pretend not to understand.” The realization made her voice soft.

  Fuck softness. He was done with that and with pretending. His rage and its expression were all too real. The consequences as well. “So you do know him.” He put more than a drop of acid into his words. “Did. You. Fuck. Him?”

  The color returned to her face as she lifted her chin, her eyes narrowing. “Yeah. About a year ago.” Defiant. Daring him to strike back.

  So he did. “You fucked that asshole? How could you?”

  “What do you want me to say? He was terrible? He was great?” She spread her hands wide. “Or how about: it’s none of your fucking business?”

  He’d just punched the man because of it. So yes, it was his fucking business. “Crane made it my business by shoving that information in my face. Right before I beat the shit out of him.”

  She gasped. “You did what?”

  “I slammed him into a wall and punched him in the jaw.” It had felt great at the time—not so much now. And this next bit had felt terrible from the moment he’d heard it: “So I’ve been suspended from the tour for the rest of the year.”

  A few years more. A few dollars more. But no more money this particular year. No top-ten finish. Maybe no championship next year. And as for going home…

  He blew out a hard breath, rubbed his forehead. Fuck. And all because he’d had to shut Crane’s smart mouth.

  “The rest of the year?” Lil’s jaw dropped. “What did you do to him?”

  “He’s fine.” Well, his jaw was bruised and his ribs too, most likely, but otherwise, Crane was fine. She didn’t need to worry about him. “I think they wanted to make an example of me.”

  “Let me get this straight: Crane tells you I slept with him—and you hit him?” Her face was tight with anger, one hand on her belly and the other clenched into a fist.

  “I did it to defend you.” He’d been suspended for her. Didn’t she understand? He’d lost all that money for her.

  “Defend me?” She gestured sharply toward herself. “What danger was I in? I wasn’t even there.”

  Didn’t she care at all about her reputation? He certainly did. “He said he’d slept with you. In front of everyone.” She was his—of course he was going to fight back when someone said shit like that.

  She set both hands on her belly as she glared at him. “Who else are you going to punch for me?”

  Realization turned the knot in his gut into a coil of ice. It wasn’t only Crane. His throat frosted with pain, coating his words with bitterness. “Who else have you slept with?”

  She shook her head, began to gather her things. “Not twice in one day. I’m not doing this twice in one day. And to think that I was going to tell you—” Her fingers curled tight around the handle of her bag.

  He didn’t know what she meant, but he understood that she was readying to leave. He set his back against the door. No way in hell was he letting her go. “Who was it? How many of them have been laughing behind my back?”

  “It’s none of your business! None of it is.” She hefted her bag onto her shoulder, one hand wrapped around her bump as if protecting the baby from him. “Now let me out.”

  “No. You’re mine. And I’m not letting you go.” She didn’t get to run away from this, from what she’d done to him.

  “Oh no. You aren’t going to do this.” She stabbed her forefinger at him. “It’s all about the baby, remember? No sex, remember? And now I’m yours?” She put her hand on his shoulder, tried to shove him away. “Fuck you.”

  His heart twisted with anger. Or pain. Or both. He’d done all this for her. The fear on her face after his ride, the way Crane had sneered her name, his suspension—it was all because of how he felt about her.

  He loved her.

  Swallowing hard as that realization pushed through his rage, he looked down at her tearstained face. Her jaw was rigid, her eyes blazing, and her hand was still trying to push him away. He caught at it. “Lil, I—”

  “Don’t try to explain.” She snatched her hand away, her eyes going hard. “I didn’t sign up for this caveman jealousy act. I should have known from the beginning when you first started to throw your weight around that we’d end up here.”

  Her crying. Him blocking her escape. Jesus, what was wrong with him?

  He stepped away from the door. “I’m sorry.”

  The anger was entirely gone, only shame left. Shame that he could love her and yet treat her like this.

  “Is this how you’ll treat our daughter?”

  With that, she won. His shoulders sagged, and he let the wall catch him, support him.

  She’d been right all along—the baby did belong with her. Not with a man who’d react like this—trapping the mother of his child because she’d slept with someone before him.

  “I’m sorry.” She’d rejected it before, but it was all he had. He’d lost everything else. His career, the baby—her.

  “Save it.” Her anger remained. “Don’t call me. Don’t e-mail me.” She jerked the door open.

  “What about Gabriela?”

  She froze, her throat working. “Get a lawyer. You’ll be hearing from mine. The less I see you, the more I can keep it all about the baby. And that’s what we both want.”

  It wasn’t what he wanted. Not at all. But he let her go anyway.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Lil’s ass left the seat as she reached for the handle above the door, the truck jerking as it hit a bad bump. Again.

  They really ought to repave the road leading out to the prison. It was more pothole than asphalt at this point. But repairing a road leading to a prison in the middle of nowhere probably wasn’t big on Caltrans’s priorities.

  The truck hit another hole and she glanced over at Luk
e, who was driving. “Are you aiming for them?”

  Luke flicked a glance at her, his shiner gleaming blue-black behind his sunglasses. “Shut up, Lil.”

  Damn, the both of them were in a good mood today. Four hours of driving and this was their first attempt at conversation.

  “So, how did you get that black eye?” Might as well poke at Luke a little more. Might make her feel better. Two weeks of radio silence from Adriano had left her in a hell of a mood.

  “Don’t worry about it.” He jerked the wheel, the truck veering for the centerline, then jerked it back, dodging a crater that must have been two feet deep. “Say, whatever happened to that Brazilian who was supposed to be living with us?”

  Touché. “Tell me about the black eye and I’ll tell you what happened to him.”

  Luke stared out at the road, the muscle in his jaw tensing. “No,” he said finally. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

  It was probably about that stupid Warrior Race he was doing for charity. He’d been paired with Ana Chacon, who ran the resort at the casino and hated Luke’s guts and always had. He returned the favor. But Lil couldn’t quite imagine Ana giving him a black eye.

  “Okay. But then you don’t get to find out what happened with…” She couldn’t quite bring herself to say his name. “With that Brazilian.”

  “Is he gone?”

  Was he gone? With the baby, he’d never truly be gone. Her hand tightened on the handle above the door. Hard to heal a broken heart when she knew she’d be forced into close contact with him, over and over again.

  Except, in the two weeks since their blowup, he hadn’t tried to call, he hadn’t e-mailed. Just like she’d asked.

  She hadn’t contacted the lawyer yet. She didn’t even know what she would say. I’m in love with this man, I’m having his baby, but I want no contact with him? Her stomach rolled even though the truck was steady. God, but she’d gotten herself in quite the mess: a heartbreaking, stomach-churning, black-rain-cloud mess.

  Maybe Bob was right. Maybe she had made the wrong choice, keeping this baby. Or even in going to bed with Adriano in the first place.

  She stared out at the lonely, broken, desolate road. A mirror of her mood.

  It would be so much better if they could make a clean break, if she could hide from him to lick her wounds. Seeing him again—it was going to tear her apart each and every time.

  “He’s the father of my kid,” she said finally. “He’s never going to be gone gone.”

  Luke only grunted and drove them over another pothole.

  Depressing didn’t quite cover the jail. It was dreary, institutional, a leaden weight that settled on her skin. The grass was entirely dead, nothing but bare dirt, asphalt, and cinder block. The razor wire cutting through marked the strict boundary between what was kept inside and the open space outside.

  She and Luke went through the metal detectors, got patted down, received their visitor’s badges, and went in to see Josh.

  The years in jail had made him slimmer, but not really thin. More like jail was carving away the unessential bits of him. He wore his thousand-yard stare, a relatively new thing for him. When he’d first come, he’d been pissed. Pissed that this had happened to him, that he’d actually been sent to jail. That he would be stuck there for years. Pissed that Benedict thought he deserved this and had told him so.

  Lil had done her best to soothe him, because while he did kind of deserve it, it still sucked. Nothing had helped though, except for time. The anger had drained away over the years, leaving this grayscale copy of what had once been Josh.

  “Hey.” Their brother’s smile was wan, the same beige as his prison-issued clothes.

  “Hey.” Luke waved. No touching—that was the first rule of prison visits.

  Lil waved herself, maneuvered into the hard plastic chair. Her normally agile body was turning into an ocean tanker—she was going to need the help of some tugboats to do tight turns by the end of this.

  “Hey, Josh. You look good.” He didn’t—his eyes were hollow, his expression weary. She’d thought he’d perk up as the end of his sentence came near, but he only seemed to get more depressed.

  “Thanks.” Josh’s smile didn’t brighten. “You look a little bigger. How’s the baby?”

  “She’s good. I can feel her moving now. And I’m having the big ultrasound tomorrow.” She smiled wide at him, hoping he’d catch some of her joy. Not that she had a ton to spare at the moment.

  “That’s great.” He nodded slowly, as if processing the disconnect between his words and his mood. “Nice eye there, Luke.”

  Luke reddened. “Yeah. Hurts like a bastard.”

  Lil held her breath—Josh was actually teasing Luke. Gently, but still a tease.

  Before, Josh had been the biggest comic in the family. There wasn’t a joke he wouldn’t make, a prank he wouldn’t pull. But that had all ended when he’d been sent here.

  She waited for Josh to make another joke, to show another spark of the old him. But the silence stretched on.

  Lil searched for more to say. “Have you seen Mom and Dad recently?”

  “Yeah. Last week.”

  Lil knew better than to ask about Benedict. Their eldest brother had been to visit a few months ago, but neither Josh nor Benedict would discuss it. Even Pilar was uncharacteristically silent about it.

  “How’s Leonora?” Josh asked.

  That fell like a rock into the stillness between them. Lil couldn’t ever remember Josh asking about Leonora. At least not to her.

  When Josh had crashed that car, he’d almost killed Leonora. Lil had never breathed the woman’s name to her brother again, although someone must have kept him updated on her condition. She flicked a glance at Luke, who was nodding. Must have been Luke then.

  “She’s… fine.” Luke had to struggle to find that descriptor. “I saw Jackson last week and he said she was good.”

  Jackson was Leonora’s brother and the same age as Luke. Leonora had been bubbly and fun before the accident, a perfect foil for Josh’s jovial antics. But she didn’t get out much these days.

  “Good.” Josh examined his hands, which were gripping each other tightly. “I’m glad to hear it.”

  The silence stretched further. What to talk about after that? Bringing up the situation with Adriano was only going to make everyone feel worse.

  “I’m getting the space above the garage ready for you,” Luke said. “Hope you’re ready to get woken up by a baby in a few months.”

  “Thanks.” Josh turned his blank stare toward the window. “I won’t mind. Is Adriano going to be able to help at night?”

  So much for avoiding the Adriano situation. Lil blew out a breath. “Yeah, he’s… We kind of broke up.” Not that they’d really been together. But describing the depth of her heartache in the middle of a prison visit wasn’t something she was up for at the moment.

  Josh’s gaze swung back, took on some clarity. “You guys are having a baby together. And you broke up?”

  She frowned down at the table surface, which was worn down by however many hands had touched it over the years. “It’s… it’s complicated.”

  She wanted Adriano, she loved him… but she wouldn’t be tied down by him. And certainly not for stuff she’d done before she’d even met him.

  And she didn’t even know what to do about the custody agreement now. The lawyers would have to hammer that out.

  “Huh.” Josh’s tilted his head. “What happened? Last time we talked, things were going good.”

  Man, of all the things for Josh to show some interest in. She chewed on her lip, pondered what to say.

  Luke rolled his eyes. “I already tried. She doesn’t want to talk about it.”

  “Oh? Let’s talk about that eye of yours then,” she countered.

  Josh laughed. A small laugh, but a laugh. She and Luke shared a quick smile. They could still make their brother laugh.

  “Okay, we won’t talk about it.” Josh’s smile faded
. “But he’s been to your doctor’s appointments so far. Is he going to the ultrasound tomorrow?”

  “I’m not sure if I want him there.” She certainly hadn’t intended to call and remind Adriano. First, she’d been angry, then she’d been sad, and now? “I mean, I can send the pictures after.” It sounded lame, keeping him away from that appointment, when it had made so much sense in her head before.

  Josh’s expression went distant again. “Whatever makes you happiest.”

  Great. Even her brother in prison thought she was doing this wrong.

  And it didn’t make her happy. Not at all. She missed Adriano, didn’t even know where he was, what he was going to do now that he was suspended… She worried about him.

  “I suppose I should tell him.” She wriggled her toes in her boots to ease her guilt. “If he wants to get here on time.”

  “Yeah.” An amused spark lit Josh’s eyes. “Might want to get on that.”

  “You can have your big make-up phone call on the way home,” Luke said. “That’ll be fun to listen in on.”

  At that, the light in Josh’s eyes dimmed. “You guys better get going. Thanks for coming.”

  He was right—but after the glimmers of the old Josh she’d seen today, it especially hurt to leave him here. Even though he’d be home in a few months. They said good-bye and left him in that place, looking hollow eyed once more.

  She and Luke walked back to the truck in silence, their earlier mood returning. Flatter now though—a prison visit always did that, left her feeling run over by a steamroller.

  As they drove away, she stared at her phone, waiting for a signal. Hoping that the phone wouldn’t grab one too soon, would give her a little more time to collect herself. To prepare to hear his voice again.

  One bar. Two. And then five. She sighed. No more excuses.

  “Do you know Colby Crane?” she asked.

  This wasn’t a stalling tactic on her part—she just wanted to think out the situation more before she talked to Adriano.

  “Huh?” Luke adjusted his eyeglasses, wincing when he brushed his bruised eye. “Yeah, I’ve met him a couple of times. Heard stories from John and Shorty. Why?”