Chapter 23
Caught in the Act
Wheeler
The next evening, however, it’s my, ahem, need that wins out.
I blame Duke for showing up to lunch with a Stetson on his head and a three-year-old on each hip.
Ava had the day off from her job as a barrel racing trainer over at the Wallace Ranch, a nearby property where the Wallace family has bred horses for generations. So she brought the girls with her to the New House to eat.
I was walking into the kitchen after a call with Rory when I stopped dead in my tracks. My mouth legitimately went dry as I took in the tall cowboy holding two giggling toddlers.
“Tickle monster!” he said over and over as he somehow managed to tickle them with his one or two free fingers.
June and Ella were in stitches. When it was time to sit at the table, neither of them let him put them down.
Instead, they both squeezed onto his lap, and Ella put her head on his shoulder.
Duke, being the fucking magical human being he is, leaned his cheek on her head.
He let both girls continue to sit on his lap throughout the meal, and it was all I could do not to burst into a fiery ball of want as I watched him coax them into eating their “pea peas.”
Somehow, I managed to work for a few hours at the New House afterward.
I blame the nice chunk of change that hit our business checking account earlier today for the burst of motivation.
Because the presale for the Aspen trunk show did so well, we decided to try it again for another pop-up we’re doing in Nashville.
It sold it out in three minutes. The best part? We just got a five-figure payout.
A growing sense of certainty—of peace—settles in my center. Maybe I was crazy to start a boot company with my best friend, but it’s working. More than that—Mollie and I and our business are thriving.
For so long, I wasn’t nearly as successful, financially speaking, as my peers who became lawyers or bankers. But I’m getting there.
“I’m so damn proud of y’all,” Haines says.
I decided to give him a call on my short drive from the New House to Duke’s cottage. I want to check in on him—how his last couple days with Mom were—and I also want to share my good news with someone.
“I’m proud of us too.” I hit the brakes when I see a snake slithering across the dirt road. Despite how warm it is, I shiver. Not sure I’ll ever get used to that.
“Not that I’m surprised. Between Mollie’s creative talent and your brain power, I always knew y’all would knock it out of the park.”
My center—hell, my entire being—glows. “I’m learning, slowly but surely, to have that kind of faith in myself.”
“I hope you know how much I admire you for chasing your dreams. You think you took the easy way out by not going to law school, but I beg to differ. Think y’all will be hiring this time next year?”
I grin. Haines is taking an extra year at college to graduate with dual degrees in business and history next May. Like me, he doesn’t want to follow in Dad and Preston’s footsteps and pursue a career in corporate law. Problem is my younger brother isn’t sure what else he’d want to do.
“I love the idea of you coming to work for us.” I mean that. Haines is smart, well-spoken, and hardworking. He also loves fashion as much as I do. “If business keeps going in the right direction, we can definitely talk about it.”
“I’d offer to intern as a model, but you already have a hot cowboy in your stable. I mean, on your roster.”
“Ha.”
“How is Hottie in the Backward Hat?”
So. Fucking. Hot.
“He’s good.”
“Have y’all…”
“Made a decision yet? No. But.”
I turn into a grove that’s bursting with green, and I feel a familiar flutter when the cottage comes into view. Will I ever get over how beautiful this little slice of heaven is? I half expect Snow White to walk out the front door, birds landing on her shoulders as she steps into the afternoon sun.
Haines scoffs. “Hello? You can’t leave me hanging like that!”
I put my car in park and kill the engine, keeping the windows rolled down. Snow White’s birds chirp and sing as I let my head fall back on the seat.
“When this first happened, I thought there was no way we’d keep the baby.”
My brother gasps. “But now you’re thinking about keeping it? Him? Her? Sorry, it feels wrong to refer to a baby as ‘it.’”
I laugh. “Agreed. I still can’t wrap my head around the whole thing. But I talked to Mollie, and…I mean, is it crazy to think having a baby with a guy I’m not even dating might end with us making the happy family I’ve always wanted?”
“Aw, Wheeler. You’re getting me choked up. What a beautiful idea. Not crazy. It would be crazy if you wanted to have a baby with a deadbeat. But Duke is…” Haines scoffs again. “Not that.”
I close my eyes, heart thumping. “I haven’t told him what I’m thinking.”
“Somehow I don’t think he’ll react poorly to this development.”
“Seriously? If I say I want to keep the baby, I’ll be upending his life. He’s already said he wants to be involved, which means—”
Another gasp. “He said that?”
“He did.”
“Be still my beating heart. My God, Wheeler. Maybe he wants to keep the baby too.”
My stomach flips at the idea. “Would you…be there? If I had this baby and we, like, needed you?”
“Of course.” No hesitation. No qualifications.
In many ways, Haines bore the brunt of my parents’ divorce. My parents’ relationship got worse and worse—borderline abusive—as the years went on. Preston and I were able to escape the worst of it since we were in college. But Haines was stuck at home, witnessing the awfulness firsthand on his own.
It’s kind of a miracle he didn’t turn out to be a douche like Preston. Instead, he’s an awesome human being brimming with empathy.
Reminds me a lot of Duke, come to think of it.
“Thank you.” My voice trembles. “I’m scared, Haines.”
“I know you are.”
“Can you imagine what Dad’s gonna say?”
“Fuck him. If he wants to react like a lunatic, let him. It’s his loss.”
I nod. “You’re right.”
“I think Mom would be happy. Mostly because you found such a great guy. You know she’s gonna go bananas over Duke, right?”
Laughing, I slide a hand over my mouth. “You’re jumping twenty steps ahead here.”
“Because it’s gonna happen—Mom is gonna meet Duke, and she’s gonna love him. She’s also gonna be thrilled about the baby.”
“You think so?”
“I know so. Mom might be a little leery that y’all’s relationship is so new, but she’ll see right away that Duke is special.
And she loves kids, Wheeler. Why do you think she had three of them with a guy as awful as Dad?
That’s how bad she wanted to be a mom. She’s going to love the excuse to be busy too. You need help, Mom’s gonna be there.”
I blink, the realization hitting me. Haines is kind of right. I assumed she wouldn’t want to be embroiled in more messiness. I assumed she’d want to enjoy her newfound freedom, not spend her time babysitting my kid.
Why can’t she do both, though? Could I afford the childcare we need? Duke would pitch in, I’m sure, which means we wouldn’t have to rely on Mom to watch the baby full-time. She could enjoy being a grandma.
My chest twists. All things considered, Duke and I are lucky we’re in a decent enough position to consider these things.
The childcare piece is huge now that I’m thinking about it.
Mollie and Cash are going to hire a nanny.
Could we nanny share, I wonder? Or are there options for day care in Hartsville?
I know Ella and Junie go to preschool in the mornings.
Duke might know more. If he doesn’t, I’m relatively certain he’d be more than happy to find out.
“We could make some pretty delicious lemonade out of these lemons if we wanted to, huh?” I ask.
“Duke will bring the sugar.”
I burst out laughing. “You’re gross.”
“You want him. Go get your cowboy. Maybe have his baby while you’re at it.”
That’s the thing, though. Just because I may want to have Duke’s baby doesn’t mean we’re going to end up together. But I am warming up to the idea.
I go inside, munch on some crackers, and then grab a shower. Duke didn’t show up until after four yesterday, so I have some time to myself.
The crackers keep my nausea at bay, and I actually feel pretty damn good as I tilt back my head and let the hot water rinse off the day.
Rinse off the dread and guilt that’s plagued me for what feels like weeks now.
In their place rises a sense of effervescent possibility.
Yes, this all could blow up in my face. That’s the most likely scenario.
What if it works out, though?
What if I take a chance on me and on Duke and on our ability to say fuck what everyone else thinks so we can live life on our terms?
Live a life different from everything we’ve known. Everything we’ve seen.
Soaping up a washcloth, I run it over my chest. A bolt of heat moves from my nipple to my clit.
I think of Duke. How perfectly his ass filled out his Wranglers.
The way his shirt drew taut over his shoulder blades and back as he grabbed his hat from the rack by the kitchen door and dropped it on his head before going back to work after lunch.
I run the washcloth over my nipples again, the nubby fabric catching on their overly sensitive peaks. My boobs are sore, but it feels kinda good to touch them this way.
That heat spreads between my legs, making my clit throb. Closing my eyes, I revel in the fact that I feel like myself again and not some perpetually sick, chronically confused mess.
I feel sexy. At home in my body, even though it feels different.
I miss the feel of Duke’s hands on me. My God, can that man fuck. Best sex of my life, no question. And that big, beautiful dick of his—
Next thing I know, I’m tossing the washcloth aside and grabbing the showerhead off its holder.
When was the last time I had an orgasm? I don’t remember.
Before I found out I was pregnant, I was trying not to masturbate, because every time I did, I ended up thinking about Duke. That was a problem then.
Is it still a problem now?