Grant

  “Are you sure about him?” Grant asked Christina before Ray could speak. “You weren’t pregnant when you came back from Dallas, but now you are. That makes me the daddy, unless you decided to run off to Ray again in these last few nights.”

  Christina nodded. “Dr. Sue says I’ve been pregnant all along—the Dallas clinic was wrong. She called them, they looked it up, and admitted they wrote the wrong result on my test. They offered to redo the test, free of charge. Real sweet of them.”

  “Seriously?” Ray switched his glare to Grant. “You knew about this, but I didn’t?”

  Christina broke in. “When I thought it was a mistake, I saw no reason to tell you, Ray. I didn’t want you to know until I was sure I was pregnant at all—and now I’m sure. From the timing, there’s a very good chance you’re the father.”

  Grant knew she believed it—feared that the baby was Ray’s. She’d never have called Ray here and put him through this, or Grant either, if she hadn’t been pretty damn sure.

  “And that’s supposed to make me feel better?” Ray snapped.

  Christina bathed Ray in the same scowl she’d given Grant. “I could have waited to tell you until I knew whether or not the baby was Grant’s, but I thought that wouldn’t be fair to you. So I’m telling you now.”

  Ray subsided, but his green eyes glittered in anger. “How soon can we find out?”

  “About two weeks from now. Apparently the test doesn’t work before I’m nine weeks gone, and I’m about seven weeks now.”

  “We have to wait two weeks?” Ray repeated. “Shit.”

  Grant agreed. He felt like he’d been kicked in the stomach. Two weeks of wondering whether the kid the love of his life carried was his or not? He’d go insane.

  Because Grant feared, deep in his heart, that the child was Ray’s. It had to be. He and Christina had tried so hard before, and … nothing.

  Now another man was in the picture, and Christina was suddenly pregnant. It was as if all his dreams and his nightmares were coming true at the same time.

  Ray was studying Christina’s marble-still face. “I know you broke it off with me, Christina, because you were falling in love with Grant again. I get that. I won’t try to convince you to come back to me. But if the kid is mine, I want to be its dad. I want to be in his life … or her life. I want him to know I’m his father, and do all the dad things. All right?”

  “I didn’t think you’d want it otherwise,” Christina said. “Grant?”

  Grant could barely speak. “Hey, if the kid is Ray’s, I’m not going to keep him away. But I’m not standing aside so you can marry him. I’m only so noble, Christina. Like hell I’m letting you go.”

  “I don’t want to marry Ray,” Christina said quietly.

  Ray’s face went redder still. “Well, thanks a lot.”

  “I’m sorry,” she said. “But you were right. I never got over Grant. I probably never will.”

  The joy of that seared into Grant, the rightness of it. Christina was beautiful, inside and out, and his. “You’re everything to me, sugar,” he said quietly.

  Ray bent a severe look on Grant. “But if Grant turns tail and runs, I’ll step in and do the decent thing. If not … I can’t stop you from being with the guy you want to be with. But I get to be my son’s—or daughter’s—dad.”

  “I’m not gonna run.” Grant scowled. “Whether it’s my kid or not. I’m not an asshole.”

  “Glad to hear it,” Bailey said. She’d stepped back while the two men had jumped to their feet, but now she moved between them again. “Now, I don’t want either of you giving Christina crap for this. We’ll know which of you is the dad in a couple weeks, and that will be the end of it. She’s going through a lot right now, so you two leave her alone, or you answer to me.” Bailey poked her chest with her finger, her eyes, so like Christina’s, filled with angry determination. She was a guard dog, warning them off her charge.

  “It’s all right, Bailey,” Christina said. She stood up, her face too pale, shadows under her eyes, looking exhausted. Grant moved to her, liking that she gave him a grateful look when he put his arm around her.

  “No, it’s not,” Bailey said. “Seriously, guys, don’t mess with her.”

  Ray lifted his hands. “All right.” He was angry. That showed in every line of his body, but Grant knew Ray. He’d never take out his anger on a woman. “What do I have to do?”

  “When the time comes, go see Dr. Sue,” Bailey said. “That’s all. You too, Grant. Can you boys handle that?”

  Grant gave her a nod, feeling hollow.

  Ray clenched his fists. “Thanks for telling me, Christina,” he said. “Think I’ll be going now.”

  Without further word, Ray slammed out of the house, banging the door behind him. Grant waited to hear the sound of his truck but it didn’t come.

  A look out the window showed Ray striding away up the street, leaving his truck behind, as though he couldn’t stop walking. Grant knew exactly how he felt.

  Chapter Seventeen

  “You okay?” Grant asked. He moved to Christina’s side, warming her.

  Christina wanted to fall into him and never come up. She wasn’t okay at all. But then she was. This was a total mess, but … she was going to have a baby.

  Grant slid his arm around her, cradling her with his strength. “Bailey, could you give us a minute?”

  Christina gave her sister a nod. “I’ll be all right.”

  Bailey went to Grant and kissed his cheek. “Thanks, bro. For not being a dickhead.”

  Grant smiled a little. “Hey, no problem.”

  Bailey studied the two of them a moment then fetched her purse and walked out. Christina heard her get into her truck and drive away, most likely heading back to the Circle C Ranch, Adam, and her new life.

  Thank God for Bailey. Christina’s baby sister had helped her clear her head, figure out what she needed to do, and how to break the news to both men. Bailey had convinced her to talk to both at once, since Dr. Sue said the chances were equal that either had fathered her baby. Christina had decided they both needed to know at the same time.

  But while she’d respect Ray’s need to be a father to his child—both baby and Ray would deserve that—Christina knew she could never be with any man but Grant.

  Grant and Christina sank to the sofa together, Grant’s arm around her.

  “I’m sorry,” Christina said, her throat aching. “This is awful.”

  Grant pulled her closer. “I don’t know. I’ve seen people go through worse shit than this. But no matter what happens, we’ll face it together. All right?”

  Christina looked up at him. Grant’s eyes were warm, but she read the fear behind them.

  Grant might say he’d be all right if the baby turned out to be Ray’s, but would he, when it came down to it? Would he want to stay with Christina while she raised another man’s kid? She couldn’t imagine most men would.

  “My life sucks,” she said morosely.

  “Everyone’s does,” Grant said. “Just in different ways.”

  That was possibly true.

  “Now, I’ve got a lotta things to do,” Grant said, his deep voice gentle. “I’m taking care of some stuff with Adam, but after that, we’re going to talk. I mean for real. No losing control and having sex instead.”

  “Aw.” Christina kept her face straight. “But losing control and having sex is more fun.”

  Grant’s eyes twinkled. “Well, we can do that after. I know us, though. We get serious, and the next thing we know, we’re throwing off our clothes and grabbing on to each other.”

  “All right.” Christina gave him a grave nod. “Talk first. Sex second. We can try.”

  “That’s my sugar bear.” Grant scooped her close and kissed her cheek, his breath warm. “I swear to you, Christina. It’s going to be all right.”

  She tried to smile. “Why? Because you say so?”

  “You bet.”

  Grant trailed off but his arm stayed around
her, his warm scent relaxing. Christina wanted to remain in this cocoon of peace with him until the weeks went by, and everything was settled. For better or for worse.

  Grant pressed a kiss to the top of her head. She noticed he was avoiding kissing her on the mouth. That might lead to the loss of control he talked about.

  “I have to go, sweetheart,” he said. “You going to be all right here? I can tell Bailey to come back and stay with you if you want. Or Grace.”

  “Oh, for heaven’s sake, I’ll be fine.” Christina softened the words by touching her lips to his cheek.

  She shouldn’t have. His warm skin and hot brush of whiskers made her want to run her tongue over him. She could undo his shirt, lick him some more, nibble his skin, suckle it …

  Christina clenched her jaw and made herself pull away.

  Grant’s look told her he understood. “I can’t guarantee I can stay out of your bed for long, sweetheart. But we’ll get this figured out soon, hopefully before I burn up.” He rose, pulled Christina to her feet with him, and slid his arms around her. “I don’t want to do anything but take care of you the rest of my life.”

  Christina rested her hands on his chest. “You keep talking like that, and I’ll just let you.”

  Grant’s look held heat, need, hope, and fear. “And I’ll take you up on that.”

  He stepped away from her, picked up his hat, and left the house.

  ***

  Grant tried to go on with life as usual, but everything had changed.

  Sam Farrell, Christina’s uncle, invited Grant around to talk. Grant thought he’d be chastised for letting Christina get pregnant—because everyone knew now—but what Sam said surprised him. The old guy had a lot of heart.

  Ray helped Grant avoid awkward meetings with him by heading out of town with Kyle a few days later, back to the rodeo circuit. Word was that the two brothers kept on winning as usual—money, trophies, and sponsorships.

  Even so, it was a tough two weeks. Grant woke up every morning wondering if he’d be the lucky man who’d hold his baby in his arms, or if he’d have to eat shit while watching Ray do it. He went to bed every night praying the kid was his. He’d dream it was, his heart swelling with happiness. Then the dream would change, and Ray and Christina, with child, would be sitting at the park in the town square, or wherever, a happy couple, while Grant could only stand by and watch.

  Hell, no. Grant would have Christina with him forever. No matter what.

  Meanwhile he and Christina had a standing date every night they could get free, at Mrs. Ward’s for dinner. They talked—really talked, using the diner as neutral ground. No sex, no fighting, just getting to know each other again. It was refreshing.

  The whole town knew Christina was pregnant, and most were speculating on whether the baby was Ray’s or Grant’s. Christina hadn’t made any kind of announcement, but folks could count on their fingers and wonder. The fact that Grant and Christina seemed to be a couple again didn’t calm the talk. But they could suck it up, Grant decided. He was sticking by Christina, whatever anyone thought.

  Grant had other things going on during the nail-biting two weeks, though they had become more of a distraction now than anything else. Thankfully Adam and Carter had hammered everything out, with Grant and Tyler letting them.

  This new business deal came to a head a few days before Christina was due to be tested, when Karen’s ex-husband, Preston Waters, rolled into town. He was slim, well-groomed, and handsome in the obnoxious way of successful men who steam-rolled over everyone to get what they wanted.

  Preston drove a tinted-windowed Lexus, which he was very careful of, and brought two assistants, a younger man every bit as obnoxious as himself, and a woman who dressed like Karen. The woman was younger than Karen and more arrogant.

  Naively so, Grant thought when he met her. Life hadn’t kicked her in the teeth yet.

  Preston and his team met Karen, Grant, Adam, Carter, and Tyler in an upstairs room at the local bank for a little conference Carter had arranged. Mr. Carew, the head of the bank, was there too.

  The room had a long table, cushioned chairs, and windows that looked out over the entire town of Riverbend and the rolling hills beyond. A beautiful, green backdrop under a brilliant blue sky.

  Preston and his lackeys didn’t hide their smirks as Grant and his brothers walked in. The Campbells and Carter wore black button-down shirts, jeans, and clean, polished cowboy boots, hats in hand. The four of them did own suits—they wore them to church and other formal occasions—but Grant had suggested that for this meeting they should look as cowboy as possible.

  Karen joined them in one of her crisp linen business suits, her hair, makeup, and nails perfect as always.

  “Preston,” she said with cool neutrality, as she greeted the ex-husband who’d kept two mistresses under her nose.

  “Karen,” Preston said. “You remember Donald, and Candice.”

  “Candy, yes,” Karen said absently. She’d told Grant that Candy had been one of the mistresses.

  “Candice,” the young woman clarified with steel in her voice. Candy had known about Karen and had been triumphant when Karen filed for divorce, so Christina had related to Grant. Though Preston hadn’t married Candy, as apparently he’d promised, she was still holding out hope.

  Karen ignored her. “Shall we get started? Let me introduce Adam, Grant, and Tyler Campbell, and Carter Sullivan.”

  “New entourage?” Preston asked, eyes sparkling with mirth. “You’ve gone native.”

  “Business partners,” Karen said, smoothing her skirt as she took a seat. She utterly dismissed Preston and his thinly veiled hostility, as though the man himself didn’t interest her in the least. Grant felt a bit of pride in Karen as she gave everyone at the table a look of cool indifference.

  The young man called Donald sniggered. “Is that what they’re calling it these days?”

  Karen gave him a brief look that told him he was an idiot not much worth notice. Mr. Carew, the white-haired banker who’d run Riverbend’s bank for decades, cleared his throat. “Can we get started?”

  “Yes,” Karen said in her brisk tone. “The purpose of this meeting is simple. You, Preston, are out of luck. The properties in and around Riverbend that you wished to develop are no longer for sale.”

  “Excuse me?” Preston’s look was quizzical but unworried. “What are you talking about? I know you didn’t buy them, Karen.”

  “The properties are in the process of being purchased from their owners by AGCT Enterprises,” Karen said. “Any loans your mortgage brokerage bought are being paid off.”

  Preston stared at Karen in disbelief, then he started to go a little green. “I need to verify this.”

  Carter slid the stack of folders he’d brought with him across the table. “It’s all right there.”

  Preston opened the top file, and his two assistants leaned in to examine the documents. “You can’t do this,” Preston said, looking up. “You don’t have enough money to buy half the county.”

  “Not personally, no,” Karen said. “But my new partners and I do collectively. Adam Campbell is worth millions, as is the Circle C Ranch, thanks to Carter and his brothers. Enough to purchase property in a small town in a depressed market. Just like you tried to do.”

  “You can’t cut a deal out from under me, Karen,” Preston snapped.

  “I just did,” Karen said smoothly. “AGCT Enterprises now owns most of the land that was going into foreclosure or about to be seized for tax liens. AGCT will lease or sell it back to the owners once the titles are cleared. If they want to build houses or open wine bars or B&Bs, that’s their business. But I won’t let you run all these people out of their cute town. I like it here.”

  Preston’s gaze flickered over Adam, Grant, Carter, and Tyler who looked back at him, stone-faced.

  “I think you like it a little too much,” Preston said to Karen. “These guys look like something out of a B movie.”

  Karen folded her ma
nicured hands. “Unlike some of the men I’ve known in my life, these cowboys are perfect gentlemen.”

  Preston made a very ungentlemanly snort. “All right, Karen. If this is what you want—you’ve won. This was a small-potatoes deal for me. Next time, watch out.”

  “There won’t be any next time,” Karen said. “I’m selling my part of the business. I’m finished with you, Preston. You’re a cheap, lying, boring son of a bitch who thinks he can buy loyalty and friends. Well, you can’t. You can walk into a diner and buy a piece of pie, but you can’t buy the respect of everyone in the place.”

  Preston had no idea what she meant, that was clear. He got to his feet and shoved the folders back at Carter. His assistants scrambled up beside him.

  “I’m out of here,” Preston said. “This place stinks like horse shit anyway.”

  He shot a meaningful glance at the brothers, then stopped when Carter got up right in front of him.

  Grant, Adam, and Tyler rose to flank Carter, but it was Carter who had Preston turning pale. Grant folded his arms and watched while Carter looked Preston up and down. No one could have meaner eyes than Carter Sullivan.

  “What do you think, boys?” Carter asked his brothers, his voice deadly quiet. “Should we run him out of town?”

  Grant drew his thumb and forefinger down the sides of his mouth. “I have a better idea. You got a rope?”

  Preston swallowed, but gave a nervous laugh, as though trying to make himself believe they were joking with him. Grant and his brothers stood their ground.

  Preston finally broke. He ducked around Carter and ran for the door, nearly running down Mr. Carew along the way. His assistants were already gone—they hadn’t waited for him.

  Adam closed the door behind Preston. Karen burst out laughing, one of the few sounds of true amusement Grant had ever heard her make.

  “That was wonderful!” she crowed. She grabbed Grant and kissed his cheek, then Adam’s, then Carter’s and Tyler’s without shame or fear. “Carter, you get the Oscar today. I’ve never seen Preston scared shitless before.”

  Tyler and Adam high-fived with both hands, and Grant clapped Carter on the back. “I love watching you do that,” Grant said.