The Convenient Cowboy (12 page)

“You have. You’re a MacCormack now.”

“Don’t,” she said, trying to pull away. Spence held on tight.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have joked about that. I can only imagine your childhood, and I can see why the rodeo would appeal. You can still do that with the kids. We could work it out. Maybe a new agreement?” His dimple showed.

“Maybe that was a little girl’s dream and now I’m a woman?” She’d been going over their talk at the hospital again and again.

“That you are,” he said, giving her butt a squeeze.

She didn’t know whether to laugh or moan, whether to be offended or excited. “Aren’t you supposed to be sleeping on the floor?”

“I will.” He didn’t move his hand. “It’s for the best, after our scare.”

That cowgirl had said the rodeo made her forget everything. That happened when Olympia and Spence made love. His kisses and soft touches caused everything to fade away. She snuggled into him. Was it wrong to want that again? His arm came around her more firmly, pulling her tightly against him.

“I shouldn’t,” he whispered, then said to her, “What do you need, cowgirl?”

“You.”

He turned slowly to her, giving her plenty of time to pull away. She arched a little, pressing her aching breasts against him. She wanted him. She needed him.

Burying his face in the space between her breasts, he whispered, “I don’t want to know where you start and I end. I’ve kept myself away from you as long as I can.”

She could tell he was being careful with her, so she moaned in his ear that he needed to touch her as if he meant it. Olympia grabbed Spence’s thick hair, holding him to her. She didn’t want his clever mouth to stop its sensual search, except that space between her legs ached for him, too. She wanted him to take her hard and fast, then come back to her for slow loving when this first flush of heat had been quenched. She grabbed his one hand and placed it on the ache, urging him with an arching back to touch her, pleasure her.

He lifted her with no effort, arching his own hips into her as she came down on top of him. This was better than any bronc riding could be, than the dust and the screams of the rodeo. It took a moment for them to find the rhythm, but when they did, the pleasure built until there was nothing but white-hot heat and Spence.

* * *

H
E
STROKED
HER
sweat-darkened hair from her temple, kissing her there as she shifted into a better position against him, obviously languid and content, from the purr she gave him. “You’re some cowgirl,” he whispered huskily.

“You’re not a bad cowboy,” she said around a yawn. “Maybe next time you’ll last more than eight seconds.”

He chuckled. “That’s the cow calling the bull black.”

She tilted back her head and opened one eye. “That makes absolutely no sense.”

“Hush and go to sleep.” He smiled into her hair, not wanting anything to intrude on these moments of happiness. Too soon the reality of their lives would be back, along with worries about what they had just done, what it meant...or didn’t mean.

“You know,” she whispered. “That cowgirl—the famous one—must never have met the right cowboy if she thought the rodeo was the only way to find pleasure.”

Chapter Twelve

Olympia walked to
the mailbox because it was about the only chore Spence still let her do. Looking down, she could see the drive in front of her but not her feet. She hadn’t been able to see them for more than a month. Less than eight weeks and she’d have the baby. The doctor could be precise because Olympia knew exactly when Peanut had been conceived. Lily Grace? Did she feel like a Lily Grace? Nope. Olympia tried to suck in a deep breath. Nope. Not happening.

The sight of the mailbox gave her a thrill. Jeez, her life was pathetic. She walked...waddled now. It was nearly over, and then what? She and Spence had been sharing not only a room but also the delightfully springy bed for more than three months now. Really, it had only been fair to Spence. Sleeping on the floor was ridiculous. They’d also both agreed again that the sex did not make their contract null and void. In fact, they’d also agreed that having the legal document made it easier to enjoy each other without getting their messy emotions involved. So sometimes they did more than sleep. Other times, he held her and they talked about their days, the baby, the pain of stepping on a LEGO piece. By some unspoken agreement, they did not talk about the future, which was fine. Really.

She pulled the junk mail out and considered just leaving it there. Carrying those few extra ounces back to the house felt like too much, even though the doctor had told her that she’d probably gain another six to seven pounds. At this rate, she’d be as broad as she was tall. Spence would need to widen every chair in the house to fit her. She tried to stretch the kink out of her back.
Stop whining
, she told herself firmly.

She gathered all the mail and started slowly up the drive. Think of the nap she’d take in a little bit. That was about all she did—sleep, eat and get fatter. She shook her head. With Cal in school and Rickie at college, Olympia couldn’t believe how empty the house felt. It also gave her time to think, inevitably about the baby. Not that she was surprised. With the limits on her activity, the constant bathroom trips, heartburn, swollen ankles... What else could she think about?

There were times she thought she’d come to terms with staying on the ranch and raising the baby on her own. Other times she imagined the ranch with Spence and both kids. Her make-believe future rarely included riding rodeo now. The big, huge, elephant-in-the-room problem was what else she’d do. Was raising kids, the thing she’d always promised herself she wouldn’t do, enough? Some days, she believed that she and Spence could make a go of the marriage. Obviously, that was the pregnancy brain all the blogs talked about.

She paused to catch her breath. How was she ever going to get back into shape? The women who claimed they jogged and did yoga while pregnant must be cyborgs. Olympia again reminded herself to stop whining and determinedly walked back to the house with the plan that she’d do more than sit around like a big, fat, cranky blob.

* * *

“W
HERE
’
S
THE
MAIL
?” Spence asked as she stirred lazily at the pot of stew.

“Over there.” She pointed to the place by the phone where she put the mail every day. For a genius lawyer, Spence could be thick. She tried to get upset, but just watching him look through the mail made her want to jump his bones. Pregnancy hormones struck again.

“Crap,” he said with feeling.

A bill they’d forgotten to pay? Over the past two months, with the animals to feed and then a cutback in hours at the firm, money had gotten size-ten-foot-in-size-six-boot tight.

“Darn it. I can’t believe this. Her parents put her up to this.”

Spence had to be talking about his ex. “Is there a problem?”

“Missy—who just got out of rehab—is suing for full permanent custody, plus child support and alimony.”

“She hasn’t talked to Cal for at least a month.”

“I know. Damn,” Spence said with feeling. “Calvin has finally settled in and likes his new school.” Like Cal, his ears got beet red when he was upset.

“Any judge will see that Cal is better off here. Plus Missy more or less abandoned him. We have a nice home.”

“Nothing like her parents’ place. Those people have a huge house and a housekeeper, and they can afford a nanny and a tutor.”

“That doesn’t count because you’re his dad. He loves you.”

“On paper Missy looks great because she has her family’s support.”

“You have me and Payson and Jessie and—”

“I have you until you decide to leave.”

She opened her mouth to tell him they could change that. Most days she couldn’t imagine her life without Spence, Cal and the baby. Then she’d imagine the way it probably would be. Spence leaving her, walking away like men had done to every other James woman. She lamely said, “Which was written so you could get custody of Cal. That’s the whole point.” She placed her hand on the dancing baby. She couldn’t fool Peanut, who did somersaults when her mother got emotional.

He gave her a look she couldn’t quite interpret before saying, “I’d better go look up what the truck’s worth because I’m going to need the cash to pay the attorney.”

“Is it really that bad?”

“Really. I’m paying for your sister’s education, for the damned horses’ feed, including Pasquale who does nothing but sleep and what about all your doctor’s visits and the cost of the hospital?”

“It won’t be long until I’m back in the saddle and earning my keep.”

He waved her away. “At the rodeo. Right.”

“I bet Payson and Jessie could help us with a loan.”

“Yeah, just what I want to do, go begging to my big brother.”

She didn’t answer, stung.

In the quiet, he said, “Soon it won’t be your problem anyway. The kids and I will be on our own. I’ve got to have full, ironclad custody by then or Missy’s parents will jump all over me again. I’ll be back.” Spence slammed the door.

Her spirits sank a little as she thought about the empty house, but then she got mad, realizing that he blamed her for his own plan not working out. She hurried as quickly as she could after him, catching him by his truck. “It won’t be my fault if your in-laws...your ex in-laws cause a problem. I’ve done everything that we agreed to.”

“I don’t remember being the sole breadwinner as part of any discussions.”

Did he work at finding the easiest way to piss her off? She was not a freeloader. She did not sponge off a man. That was her mother. “I have boarders, and I would’ve helped more, but you said no. I would have gotten a job, too, but I’m stuck here, gestating.”

“Gestating? Is that what you call it now? You’re pregnant.”

“And whose fault is that?” She wanted to punch him—hard.

“You were there, too. At least I’m willing to step up and take responsibility—”

“Of course. Super Spence. Willing to take on everyone’s problems and save them from themselves. I don’t need you. I could have done this on my own.”

“Yeah. How?”

“The same way I’ve done everything else in my life. I’m not a poor, pathetic woman who can only get along because I hooked up with some man.”

“You’ve made that abundantly clear.”

Peanut did a double somersault, and Olympia took in a deep breath. She also took a moment to think about what she’d just been saying. Spence had been out of line, maybe, but she didn’t need to attack. They were doing as well as they could, weren’t they?

“I really do need to do something about the truck,” he said, his back to her. “The payments are huge.”

* * *

J
UST
AS
S
PENCE
finished speaking, Calvin yelled from the patio, “Hey, what’s for supper? It doesn’t smell so good.”

Spence didn’t move because he didn’t want to see Olympia’s face. He knew he’d made low blows, but he could lose Calvin. He heard her swear under her breath. He hazarded a glance toward her as she started for the house, wondering why her waddling gait made him feel something between proud and aroused. He was seriously twisted. He caught up to her as she got to the kitchen.

“What the heck are you looking at?” Olympia asked, her tabby-cat eyes narrowed.

“Nothing,” he mumbled. His greatest fears were coming true, and all he could think about were his wife’s “assets.”

“Whatever it was, you made Limpy mad,” Calvin said, his expression beginning to look a lot like Olympia’s. How was that even possible?

Spence looked over at the stove and said, “Let’s forget about whatever was in that pan. I’ll spring for Saguaro Sal’s.”

Calvin hooted his approval. “I get to play six games, right?”

Spence nodded and made sure to not catch Olympia’s glare. He’d just been complaining about money, and here he was, throwing it away on dinner and kid-appropriate entertainment.

“Go get dressed in something clean,” he said to Calvin. Olympia turned away and put the pan in the sink with a slam.

She frowned. “Saguaro Sal’s? You know it’s a school night, right? And that it’ll cost us about a million dollars.”

He shrugged. “We can’t eat what you made.”

She stiffened. “If you hadn’t been attacking me, I would have paid attention to the food. There’s plenty in the freezer.”

“I can afford to take my family out to an overpriced kiddie paradise.” He stomped off, knowing he sounded about as old as Calvin.

“Are you ready?” he asked through his son’s open door. “We’ve got to get going if you want to play Street Fighter and Hedgehog.”

“Dad.” Calvin sounded pained. “Those are ooold games. Nobody plays those.”

“I do. Guess I’m old,” he said in a hearty voice, stepping into the boy’s room.

“What’s wrong, Dad?” Calvin stood in the middle of his room, half in, half out of a T-shirt with a bright neon design that Rickie had bought him at a street fair.

“Nothing.”

“You shouldn’t lie.”

Spence stopped himself from denying it. Calvin was a smart kid, smart enough to know that something was up. “I got a letter and—”

“You fought with Limpy. You shouldn’t do that. She’s pregnant and...she’s nice.”

“She is nice,” he agreed. “Adults can be nice and not agree.”

“Like you and Mommy?”

“Not exactly like me and Mommy. We’ll work it out. You don’t need to worry, buddy. Adult stuff.” Spence tried to ruffle his son’s hair, but the boy stepped away.

Calvin looked at him, very serious and very adult. “I know Mimi and Grandpa Stu want me to stay with them. They’ve said so, but I like it here, even if the hot water doesn’t always work. Don’t fight with Limpy anymore, Dad, or she might want us to leave.”

His son knew exactly how to cut out his guts. Spence choked out, “I won’t fight.”

“Go apologize, then. That’s what you have to do.”

His son—his bighearted, big-brained son—was right. He needed to apologize. He’d been wrong to attack Olympia where she was most vulnerable. She’d tried hard to be what he needed. “You’re extrasmart tonight.”

“Stop being mushy. Go apologize so we can get to Sal’s.”

He found Olympia still in the kitchen, scrubbing the pan in the sink.

“I want to—”

“Yell at me some more,” she sniffed.

Darn it. She was crying. He hadn’t meant to make her cry. “I’m sorry,” he said as he pulled her away from the sink. “The letter got me all messed up. I’m worried.”

“I know that.” She sucked in a breath. “I just don’t want to make it worse.”

“You’re not. My God, I couldn’t do it without you. You’re so good with Calvin.”

“It’s not me. He doesn’t really need me. He’s such a—”

“Don’t sell yourself short. Calvin still needs a mother...a strong, caring woman in his life.”

Olympia patted her belly. Those unconscious movements had increased as the baby grew more active. She’d also softened in some essential way. He could see her bond with the baby and Calvin growing. He was happy but also fearful. Would she really walk away? And if she did, how would he...the kids take it? He couldn’t think about that now. Eugenia and Stuart Smythe-Ferris were top of his list.

“Maybe it should be just the guys at Sal’s?” she asked as the silence stretched out.

“Are you trying to get out of this? I don’t think so. It’s not fair to send an adult in there on his own.”

“Any other adult, maybe, but I think you like the games more than he does.”

With that little exchange, they were back on familiar footing. The affection, the connection, but nothing too deep, because too deep meant that he’d need to face what exactly was going to happen in two months when she had the baby.

“Come on, you two, let’s go,” Calvin said. “Dad, did you apologize? Limpy, I told him to apologize.”

“He did a good job,” she told his son. “Are you sure you want me to come along?”

“Of course,” Calvin said. “You keep Dad from pouting when I beat him.”

“I do not pout. Grown men do not pout.”

They argued, teased and laughed the whole way to Sal’s. Spence’s lawyer brain could pay attention to the games as he turned over not only the letter from his former in-laws but also what was going on between him and his wife. Eugenia and Stuart were easier to deal with.

“Dad,” Calvin said with disgust. “Pay attention. I beat you again.”

“You’re going to be sorry now,” Spence joked, focusing on the here and now, because wasn’t that why he was doing all this? So he could be with his son?

“Ha! You’ve got old-man reflexes.”

“It’s on now, boy.”

Calvin beat Spence again. The boy really was good at the video games, which might be more because he’d spent too many hours inside than any brainpower.

“Why doesn’t Limpy have a ring?”

“Excuse me?”

“Husbands and wives are supposed to have rings when they’re married. You two don’t have them.”

Kids were great at lobbing these left-field questions. Good thing he had a great attorney face. “We decided we didn’t need them.”

“Grandpa Stu says that diamonds are a girl’s best friend.”

“He was being funny. Not all married couples have rings.”

Calvin let the comment drop, but Spence couldn’t stop thinking about it. Why hadn’t they gotten rings? His in-laws would notice it. He should have thought of that.