The Convenient Cowboy (13 page)

“What are you frowning about?” Olympia asked as she came up to them.

“How Calvin keeps beating me. I think he must be cheating.” Spence definitely didn’t want to say anything to her about the rings. That symbol felt too real; if they added that to all the other deceits, it would be too much.

“Did not, Dad.”

“Did, too,” he responded good-naturedly.

“Are you about done?” she asked, her hand rubbing at her back.

Calvin beat him to the answer. “Yep. I bet Peanut needs to get to sleep.”

“Yes, she does. She’s been kicking me to remind me that it’s past bedtime.”

It felt so natural for him to follow his son and wife to his truck. To drive home and recount the fun night. It felt even more natural when he rubbed Olympia’s back.

“Calvin asked me something odd tonight,” he said as Olympia wiggled into a more comfortable position in bed. The question of the ring had been nagging at him.

“Yeah?” she said, her voice drowsy.

“He asked why we didn’t have rings.” He immediately felt her stiffen. “I should have thought of it when we got married.”

“Maybe,” she said slowly, then her voice shifted to a pitiful sigh. “It wouldn’t matter anyway. My fingers are sausages. Everything is swollen. I feel like a big water balloon. I thought with summer over, it would get better.”

“It’s still hot.”

“The air-conditioning keeps it cool in here.”

Was that an invite? He stopped rubbing her back, his hand slipping up to rest on her breast. Usually, he only did that when she made a clear invitation, but her declaration had been an invite of sorts.

She wriggled against him, her soft behind nestling against his crotch. “Hmm. Seems like something else is swollen.”

He pushed his face into her fragrant nape, inhaling deeply the smell of French fries, salsa and Olympia. “I don’t think the cool weather will make any difference.”

“Anything I can do to help?” She moved slowly and suggestively.

He groaned and squeezed her breast, which wrung a soft moan from her. “These seem a little swollen, too.” He kissed her neck and worked at lifting her nightgown. She gasped as his hand slipped between her thighs.

“I guess you forgive me.”

For just a second, she stopped, then she said, “Maybe, but I won’t forgive you if you don’t finish what you started.”

“Me?”

“Shut up and get about your business, cowboy.”

“Yes, ma’am. Your pleasure is my command,” he said in his best drawl.

Chapter Thirteen

Spence looked at his ex-wife, sitting at the other table in family court. Why had he thought her model good looks were beautiful? Probably the fact that they’d both been young, along with his desire to be part of Missy’s large, interconnected, long-time Arizona family. But they weren’t like he’d imagined. On the outside they were the Waltons, but once he’d gotten to know them, they were
The Real Housewives
meets
Duck Dynasty.
Spence’s attorney poked him. Crap. Had the judge said something? Spence looked up and acted interested. If he could just stop going over the prenup again and again, looking for the loophole that would keep Olympia around... Then he’d tell himself he was an idiot. She didn’t want to stay. Then he’d remembered their nights in bed and—

“Mr. MacCormack,” the judge said, “your attorney says that your current wife has been integral in the raising of your son. Is there a reason she’s not in court with you today?”

“She’s pregnant, your honor.”

“So you’ll have another baby?”

Missy’s attorney stood. “Your honor, we contend that this new family will distract Mr. MacCormack and his wife from Calvin and his health needs.”

“I was the one who slept at his bedside while he was sick, not Missy,” Spence burst out, and stopped when his attorney yanked on his arm. He quieted immediately.

“We’ll agree to the examiner, your honor,” Spence heard his attorney say. What the hell had they just agreed to?

“Fine,” the judge said, hammering down the gavel, “I’ll make my decision after the visit from the agreed-upon examiner, who will determine the validity of the marriage and relationship between Mr. and Mrs. MacCormack.”

Spence’s attorney dragged him out of court, refusing to answer questions until they were in the parking garage. He explained that Missy’s attorney had accused Spence and Olympia of having a marriage of convenience in order to keep Calvin and the trust that had been set up for his son. So a trained psychologist/social worker would determine the appropriateness of the home life as well as whether he and Olympia had a real marriage.

“Darn it, why did you agree to that?”

“Because you were stupid enough to file that damned prenup.”

“We’ll tear it up.”

“It would still be on record. This is just a visit and some questions. Standard stuff... Sort of... I guess.”

“Why am I paying for you again?”

“Because I’ll get you custody of your son and access to his trust.”

“I don’t care about the money. I just want Calvin to be raised right. Missy can’t do it, and you see what a good job her folks did?”

“You said you and your wife are living together, thus creating a home, and that Calvin loves his stepmom. This is nothing.”

It didn’t feel like nothing to Spence, especially since some of those avowals might be stretching the truth. It felt like once again the future of his family was out of his control.

* * *

“A
T
LEAST
IT
’
S
not a surprise visit,” Olympia said, looking around the disordered house.

“There is that.” Calling the ranch house comfortable and homey was the polite way of saying out-of-date and rundown. It looked even shabbier with his what-will-someone-else-see goggles. On the plus side, all the appliances worked. But with his time limited and with Olympia so far along in her pregnancy that it made even dusting difficult, they’d soon need a shovel to deal with the mess.

“So what else besides the visit?”

“They want proof that we’re a ‘real’ couple.”

“I think we can do that. I’ll call you honey.”

“This is serious.”

“I know. I’m sorry. We can do it, though. We’ve been doing it.”

“I guess. Once we’re through the visit and another court appearance, then Missy’s family will stop hounding us. It’s that darned trust.”

“Trust?”

“There’s a trust for Calvin. He’ll get a portion of it at eighteen, then twenty-five, then thirty-five.”

“Oh, my God, they don’t care about him at all, do they? This is all about the money!”

“The money doesn’t matter to Missy’s parents as much as the control it represents. If I have full custody, they won’t be able to use the funds to get Missy or even me to bow to their pressure.”

“Why did you marry this woman? It sounds like a nightmare.”

“It seemed like a good idea at the time.”

“You mean you were thinking with your little cowboy—”

“Ha-ha,” he said. Standing this close made him want her despite the seriousness of their discussion. If they were a real couple, he would have acted on what the “little cowboy” wanted. Even when he and Missy were newlyweds, he’d never had this ache to have her like he did Olympia. He wanted her no matter what. In the darkness of their bedroom, they were both able to forget that they were in the marriage for something other than love. He wanted to smooth his hands over her belly and then up to cup her spectacular breasts. She’d always been well-endowed, but now...well, her breasts were stars in a lot of his hot dreams.

She looked at him with a half smile, then turned away. “We’ve got to clean.” She stepped aside and then pressed her hand hard against the side of her belly.

Cold fear snaked through him. Her paleness and the little furrow between her brows worried him. It was the same look she’d had before the last health scare. “What? Are you okay? Do I need to call the doctor?”

She drew in a deep, long breath. “No. It’s those fake contractions. I’m fine. I just need to sit with my feet up for a few minutes, then I’ll get working on the house. I feel so bad that I didn’t keep up. It’s not as if I had anything else to do.”

“Shh,” Spence said, as he led her to their big bed. “Lie down on your side, like the doctor said, and relax. Calvin and I’ll take care of things, and worse comes to worst, Lavonda and Jessie can come.”

“Not Jessie. She hates cleaning,” she said softly, curling around her belly, her forehead still creased. He didn’t like that.

“If you feel worse, if you think that there are any problems, we can be at the hospital in twenty minutes.”

“If we got there that fast, we’d be breaking the sound barrier,” she said with a small smile.

“Rest.” He just stopped himself from pushing the hair back from her face and kissing her forehead. He walked out of their bedroom, not sure what he should feel. He needed to focus on the next step in the custody case. That way, by the time the visit rolled around, he’d have it all under control.

* * *

A
S
O
LYMPIA
TRIED
to stretch the kink out of her back, the court-appointed examiner settled himself on the recliner across from the couch where she and Spence had planted themselves. Why hadn’t she let Lavonda help her get the house ready? Because she’d felt so darned useless lately, so she’d stubbornly insisted on doing the cleaning herself. The house would never be a show place, but it was tidy enough, even if she’d killed her back. She pushed her hand against Peanut, who somersaulted again and again.

“Mrs. MacCormack, I have a few standard questions,” said the narrow-shouldered, pinched-mouth man, fingers poised over his laptop.

She nodded, and the man began to pepper both her and Spence with question after question. She tried to stay calm and keep in mind what they had gone over to make sure that their stories matched.

“I’m sorry,” Olympia interrupted a long-winded question. “I need to use the...uh...well, you know.” She rocked forward to get enough momentum to stand and hoped that she could waddle fast enough to the bathroom to prevent an accident. Spence gave her an encouraging smile. Or maybe it was a grimace because she was escaping the interrogation.

In the bathroom, she took extra minutes to calm her racing heart and give a pep talk to the round-faced, double-chinned woman in the mirror. Jeez. How had she gotten so huge? Water weight, right? Not that she was vain, but really, the puffer-fish look wasn’t her favorite. Lifting her chin a bit helped.

She made herself open the door. She’d stalled long enough already. She walked with as much dignity as possible with her feet forced into ratty flip-flops. The examiner started in on her as soon as she sat down.

“So how many more children do you plan? And how will you balance that with your career as...?” He trailed off to let her respond.

How had she and Spence decided to answer questions about her career? She tried to glance at him from the corner of her eye without appearing to look toward him. “I’ll be a stay-at-home mom.” She stretched her face into a smile. She hoped it was a smile. From the pinch-faced man’s reaction, she couldn’t be sure.

“And more children?”

“Um, sure?” She pressed her hand against the whirling dervish of a baby. Dear Lord, would she really ever do this again?

“You’re from a big family.”

“Big?”

“I see from the paperwork that you have three siblings.”

“That’s not big.”

“It’s above average. Therefore, it is big.”

Really. This was the guy they had to impress? A man who thought four children were too many for any one family. She opened her mouth to tell him that he needed to find a new dictionary when she heard a horsey snort from nearby. Like in the house. Shi...sheets. Could Lavonda have forgotten to close the pens this morning? A loud clop sounded from the kitchen. What the—?

“Limpy, Limpy,” Cal said standing in the doorway to the kitchen.

“It sounds as if Cal needs me,” Olympia said as she levered herself up, seeing in Cal’s pale face a mixture of delight and...fear? She heard the distinct sound of a horseshoe striking linoleum and hurried faster. “Sheets,” she said with feeling as she finally came into the kitchen to find Pasquale standing halfway through the open patio slider, his front quarters squarely in the room. His neck was stretched out, and his teeth were showing in a stupid grin that looked more threatening than it was. Cal had taught the horse that trick. The kid had talent. Why was he trying to show it off now?

Spence stormed into the kitchen and up to the horse, his tension rippling through her, too. “Calvin Leonard MacCormack, get this horse out of the house. What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Spence stepped forward, and Olympia opened her mouth to remind him of Pasquale’s protective streak. Too late. The horse’s yellow teeth flashed out, grabbed Spence by the upper arm and bit down hard...if her husband’s manly screech meant anything. Pasquale let go, shook his head and calmly backed up, turned and trotted across the yard to the barn.

“Pasquale and I wanted to show
that
guy our tricks,” Cal said, pointing to the examiner who stood on the kitchen’s threshold, “so he can see that I’m a cowboy and I need to stay here.”

Olympia couldn’t give in to the tears that sprang to her eyes. “I don’t think Mr. Miller is a horseman,” she said calmly. “Everything is just fine. Our horses are so well trained that they come to the house when their water buckets are empty. I’ll take care of that after your visit.” She waited until the examiner headed back to the living room. Then she leaned in and whispered to Cal. “Quick like a bunny, make sure Pasquale is in his stall with the latch on, then you can play on the computer in your room. Get your dad’s laptop from the kitchen.” The boy genius had just acted more like a boy than a genius. Why did it have to be today?

In the kitchen, Spence twisted his arm to see where Pasquale had grabbed him. No blood, thank goodness. “Do you need ice?” she asked softly. She didn’t want any trouble from the man who’d decide the future of her family—dear Lord, her family? Was that how she really felt?

“What is it about me that makes your horses think I’m food?” he whispered at her, his brows drawn down in disapproval.

She shrugged and rubbed her hand over her belly, trying to soothe the baby. “We’d better get back in there.”

Spence reached out to grab her arm. “Olympia, we’ve got to impress this guy.”

“I know. I’m trying. Don’t you think we handled the parenting challenge of a horse in the kitchen well? I mean, I didn’t kill Cal or yell at him. That has to get us points.”

“Pretty low bar,” Spence said as he followed her to the living room, where the examiner sat primly on the recliner.

“Mrs. MacCormack, how do you handle disciplinary situations like this?”

A pain shot from Olympia’s back to her belly button as she tried to sit. She forced a smile. The pain had to be a fake contraction from the tension and strain of cleaning the house. “Well, sir,” she started when she finally settled into her seat, rubbing her belly to ease the lingering ache, “Spence and I work together to ensure that our discipline is both fair and firm.”

He typed into his laptop much longer than Olympia thought it should take for her answer. “How do you plan to ensure that Calvin maintains a relationship with his birth mother?”

Olympia felt Spence’s anxiety. “We plan to keep an open line of communication with his biological mother and work with Cal on determining the level of engagement that suits his emotional maturity.” Whew. She and Spence had talked about the answer for that question. Another twinge moved from her back to her belly. She rubbed at it absently.

“Sweetie,” Spence said, his tone taut. “Are you okay?”

She immediately stopped rubbing her stomach and sat up a bit straighter. “Sorry. The baby...” She trailed off. The inquiry had gone on for more than an hour.

“Not many more questions, Mrs. MacCormack,” the examiner said, tapping on the laptop again. Then his head lifted and he sniffed the air, his nose twitching. “What is that smell? Is there another problem in the kitchen?”

Olympia took a deep breath—as deep as she could—and nearly choked. Spence’s perfectly straight nose wrinkled in disgust. “I’m not sure,” Olympia answered calmly, but then she heard it. Cal’s whisper and a cut-off squeal. She forced herself from the chair. “Excuse me. It sounds like Cal might need some help in the kitchen,” she said, and added, “No need for you to come out, honey.” She’d identified the smell. It had been years, but it wasn’t a stink that anyone would forget.