Chapter 18
Hot Cowboy in the City
Wheeler
I’ve known Dr. Martinez for over a decade. She’s seen me through my first Pap smear, my first birth control prescription, and my first slightly panicked STI screening.
I have never, not once, seen her blush. Or giggle.
But she does both during my appointment the next day, her eyes wandering to Duke over and over again as she bangs on the keyboard at the computer in our exam room.
“So you’re a real life cowboy, huh?” Her fingers pause over the keys.
Duke crosses his arms, his chambray button-up stretching across his wide shoulders. “Yes, ma’am, born and raised.”
She bites her lip. “I didn’t know y’all actually existed.”
“I assure you, we do. Someone’s gotta do the dirty work.”
Our nurse, Laura, stares. “I bet you do it right.”
“And you wear the jeans and the boots and…everything.” Dr. Martinez’s gaze flicks over his long legs, moving up to his glasses and the backward hat he’s wearing again today. “God bless America.”
“Amen,” Laura whispers.
To be fair, Duke does look especially delicious today.
Being the thoughtful kinda-sorta gentleman he is, he packed an overnight bag for himself “in the off chance” I needed him to stay.
And in that overnight bag was a pair of slim-fitting jeans and that fucking button-up, which he wears over a worn white T-shirt.
It all looks so good on him I kind of want to scream.
Don’t get me started on the glasses.
He’s wearing a pair of square-toed, perfectly broken-in Ariat cowboy boots and a five-o’clock shadow that’s really growing on me—he said he forgot his razor. The man looks like an absolute snack.
I don’t know if it’s the low ceilings in the office or what, but he also looks enormous.
Bigger than usual. They just don’t make them like this in Dallas: six two and handsome in a rugged, broad, deeply tanned way.
He just looks so…capable, his big, strong body able to handle anything the day throws at him.
Hell, I’m having trouble not staring, and I’ve been with Duke all night and all morning. Literally. He fell asleep next to me in my bed, and when I woke up, he was smiling at me, his hair sticking up every which way.
“What?” I asked, nausea already rising through my center.
“You were snoring.”
I felt my face flush. “Shut up.”
“It was cute.”
“No, it wasn’t. Why are your eyes red?”
He squeezed them shut. “I forgot to take out my contacts. I didn’t mean to fall asleep—”
“It’s fine. Please tell me that means you’ll be wearing your glasses all day.”
He opened his eyes and his smile grew, showing me a flash of even, white teeth. “You really like the glasses, huh, Blue?”
I love them.
I might’ve orgasmed just watching him make me coffee in my kitchen while wearing the glasses (I messaged Dr. Martinez earlier this week about caffeine, and she assured me one cup of coffee per day is fine).
He remembered how I took my coffee and then asked me not once, not twice, but three times if I was sure I didn’t want anything to eat.
I swear the man was ready to run out for whatever I asked for.
A gal could get used to that kind of treatment.
Just like I could get used to having someone with me for what turns out to be an intense conversation. To her credit, Dr. Martinez is kind as she patiently walks us through our options.
In Texas, there aren’t many.
“Unfortunately, the laws in our state are such that you’d have to seek abortion care elsewhere.” I can tell she’s trying very hard not to roll her eyes. “New Mexico is going to be your closest option if you decide to go that route, which—let’s be honest—isn’t that close at all.”
I’ve followed the depressing developments in women’s health care over the years in the news, and I anticipated Dr. Martinez saying something along these lines. Still, I want to vomit. I ask for a barf bag, which Laura silently places in my hand.
But Duke doesn’t flinch at the word abortion. Instead, he takes my other hand and holds it while he listens as Dr. Martinez continues to fill us in.
At one point, he looks at me and says, “As luck would have it, Wheeler and I are excellent road trip buddies. I’d be up for another twenty-hour drive if that’s what she wants. My only request is that we don’t take a U-Haul this time.”
I crack a smile, even as my throat closes in. I’m about to cry, not because I’m upset this is happening, although I’m still pissed at myself. My boobs hurt so, so bad, which doesn’t help.
I’m about to cry because it’s really nice not to feel alone in any of it after days of trying to figure it out on my own.
Duke is a steady, comforting presence, keeping my hand warm in the mitt of his.
Leave it to him to make me smile during what might be the most difficult conversation I’ve ever had.
It’s all right. This sucks, but we’ll figure it out.
He doesn’t say the words. He doesn’t need to.
“I think we need some more time.” I glance at Duke. “Right?”
He nods. “More time sounds good.”
“Of course,” Dr. Martinez replies. “I’ll put the information we talked about in your MyHealth portal so you’ll have that to reference as y’all make your decision.
I know it’s a lot, so please don’t hesitate to reach out with questions.
” She stands and looks me in the eye. “Whatever you decide, I fully support you. Trust yourself to make the right call, okay?”
I nod. “I really appreciate that. We’ll be in touch.”
“And you keep doing that dirty work.” She taps Duke on the arm with the manila folder she’s holding.
He smiles. “Yes, ma’am.”
“And he’s polite. Good Lord.” Laura uses her hand to fan herself. “I need to take five, Christina.”
“I think we all do,” Dr. Martinez says as she ducks out of the room. “Karl! Where’s my fan?”
Duke keeps a hand on the small of my back as we leave the office. I don’t miss the way the women in the waiting room check him out.
I feel myself biting back a smile. Having arm candy is kinda fun.
Duke’s vintage Chevy stands out in a parking deck packed with shiny Range Rovers and souped-up BMWs.
It’s old but immaculately restored and maintained.
There’s not a speck of dirt or dust on the white and cocoa-brown colored paint.
My chest does that squeezing thing when I wonder if he ran the truck through the car wash on his way to Dallas.
Did he get her all dolled up for me?
I climb onto the vinyl-covered bench that runs the length of the cab. It smells like Duke inside, and I have to close my eyes and remind myself to keep breathing as a wave of longing rips through me.
Nausea too.
What a mess.
We’re quiet on the ride back to my house. I have no idea what Duke is thinking. I have no idea what I’m thinking.
All I know is that he looks so damn sexy when he’s driving. One hand on the wheel, the other draped casually over the gearshift because of course he drives stick.
I swear, the man is out to give me a legit heart attack.
“I’m not tryin’ to be weird or quiet or whatever,” he says at last over the faint strains of Lainey Wilson playing on the radio.
“I just don’t wanna say the wrong thing.
Put my damn boot in my mouth. Because I’ll support you in whatever you decide too, Wheeler.
I meant what I said about another road trip.
” He turns his head. His eyes look so, so blue in the sunlight that slants through the windshield.
“I also don’t want to put the burden of making that choice solely on you, because that sure as hell ain’t fair. ”
Truth is I don’t know how I feel. Maybe because I’m still in shock? Am I in some kind of state of denial, even though a medical professional just confirmed that I am one hundred percent pregnant?
I think part of it is Duke’s hotness scrambling my brain. I can’t think when he’s around.
At the same time, I don’t want him to leave.
“Duke, I have no idea what I’m thinking.” I press my fingers to my forehead. “First off, these laws are fucking stupid.”
“No shit.”
“And the timing couldn’t be worse, right? You have all that exciting stuff happening at the ranch, and Bellamy Brooks is finally doing well. You and I aren’t dating or anything. Having a baby right now…” I shake my head. “It’s a terrible idea.”
Adjusting his hand on the wheel, Duke is quiet for a beat. He shifts gears. The engine roars.
“Timing’s not great,” he says. “We obviously weren’t planning for this to happen. And I know with everything going on with your parents…”
I scoff. “Right. That shit. Another reason why having this baby wouldn’t be the smartest move.”
Why then does my chest hurt when I think about not having this baby?
I move my hand to my breastbone, pressing my fingers into the phantom soreness there. What the fuck is that about?
Now is not the time to be dumb. Or sentimental. Or soft. Not when my dreams for my career and my life are finally coming true.
“But you know I’ll be there for y’all, right?
You and the baby? If you wanna have it?” Duke looks at me again, all earnestness.
“Smart move or not, I’ll be the best damn daddy I can be.
You sure as hell won’t be raising this kid on your own, Blue.
I couldn’t live with myself knowing I have a kid in this world who didn’t feel loved the way I felt loved by my parents. ”
My heart spasms. Probably why I feel short of breath. Just—
This man. He’s a good one.
A really, really good one. And I keep running into this feeling that I’m doing something stupid by keeping him at arm’s length.
But that’s just the thing, isn’t it? He’s smart and he’s kind and he’s handsome as all get out, and because of that, he makes me stupid.
That’s how I got myself into this mess in the first place.
In the heat of the moment, I suggested we have unprotected sex, which I never do, and then this happened.
What other stupid shit will I do because those fucking blue eyes of his make me weak in the knees?
I never knew Duke’s mom and dad. He’s talked about them in a peripheral sort of way. But like I said last night, I can tell they were good parents. Happy parents.
Would Duke be the same kind of parent?
Could he teach me how to be too?
What if, deep down, that’s a piece of the puzzle of what I’ve been looking for? To be the kind of supportive parent I always wanted—needed—but haven’t really had?
I shove the thought aside. I’m too young to be thinking about that kind of thing. Of course I want to be a good mother. A happy mother.
But that comes later, after I build my empire and I’m able to stand on my own two feet the way my own mother was never able to. I can only imagine what she and my dad would say if I decided to have a baby with a guy I barely know—someone they’ve never heard about, much less met.
“You’re going to be a great dad,” I reply carefully. “I think we all know that. But I also know you want to travel. Take more time to figure yourself out. You’re not ready to settle down yet.”
His Adam’s apple bobs. “Ideally not, no. No, I’m not.”
“Neither am I. I don’t see how I’d be able to work the way I do and raise a kid. Especially with Mollie having her baby.”
“Right. Yeah, that’d be tough.”
Silence.
Terrible, awful silence fills the truck. We didn’t make a decision, but…
Did we just make a decision?
I’m filled with a sense of forlornness. It’s the only word I can think of that describes the sinking feeling in my stomach.
Which makes no sense. I don’t want a baby right now.
I definitely don’t want Duke to have to be tied to me for the rest of his life.
I know how important his freedom is to him.
That’s why he volunteered to come to Aspen in the first place, isn’t it?
Because he wants to experience the world. Do what he wants, when he wants.
He’s a good guy, though.
Thoughtful.
I tell him to take the next right. He puts his blinker on.
“So.” He slowly makes the turn.
I shift on the bench, tucking my hair behind my ears. “So.”
“What are you up to the rest of the day?”
“Ugh. Work. I got a flood of invoices this morning I need to pay.”
“First of the month. Fun, ain’t it?”
Chuckling, I shake my head. “I forget the ranch is a small business too. Not so small anymore actually.”
“Blue, is there anything about me that strikes you as ‘small’?” The tendons and thick sinews of his neck pop against his skin as he turns his head to flash a flirty smile at me.
Without thinking, I reach across the cab and give him a shove. “Why you gotta be so gross?”
“’Cause it makes you smile.”
Shit, it does. “I want you to know it’s not a voluntary smile.”
“But it’s there.” He splays the fingers on the hand he’s got on the gearshift. “Sorry for the bad joke.”
“No, you’re not.”
“I do dirty work for a living. Of course I’m not sorry.” He shifts gears. “How ’bout you and I take our laptops to a coffee shop or somethin’? Get out for a while, get some work done. If you start feeling bad, I’ll take you home. If you want, I’ll help you pay your invoices too.”
My heart leaps. I don’t feel great, but I don’t feel terrible. I also like the idea of having some company right now. I thought I’d feel more settled after seeing Dr. Martinez. Don’t get me wrong, she was great. But I’m still sick, and I still feel so mixed up inside.
I didn’t realize how much I wanted Duke to stay until right now.
Oh, girl, you’re in trouble.
I’m able to ignore the small voice inside me that warns I’m getting in over my head. This is Duke’s issue to deal with too. Maybe if we spend a little more time together, we’ll be able to parse out our feelings on the issue a bit more. Can’t hurt to keep talking about it, right?
“I can pay my invoices. But coffee sounds great. Actually, it sounds kind of awful, but I could totally go for a croissant the size of my head.”
Duke grins. “You got it. Point me in the direction of the nearest laptop-friendly bakery.”
My heart’s doing a goddamn pirouette now. “Next light, we’ll take a left.”