Secret Baby for the Triplets (Claimed by the Cowboy Triplets #1)

1. Brock

CHAPTER 1

Brock

T oby’s eyes dart wildly around the casino floor. “Where the fuck are we?” he hollers.

The incessant dinging of slot machines nearly drowns him out. His voice struggles to carry over the rambunctious chatter and bursts of laughter surrounding us. I notice the slight slur in his words, the way his usually sonorous voice has climbed an octave higher.

Classic drunk Toby.

To anyone else, he might appear to be holding it together, but I know better.

“In a casino, asshole,” Owen retorts.

The three of us drift through the Las Vegas casino, bumping into each other as we navigate around slot machines and card tables.

In a way, I understand Toby’s stupid question, even if Owen’s pretending not to. All the locations are starting to blend, despite their distinctiveness. Over the past twenty-four hours, there’s been a bunch of flash and glamor, but it’s becoming overkill now.

This whole trip has been a waste of time and money. I’m sorry I’d let Owen talk us into it. Vegas isn’t my idea of a “vacation,” particularly not when it means keeping an eye on Toby’s over-the-top drinking.

“Which casino, though?” our youngest brother insists with a chortle, his head swiveling to take in the crowds. “Weren’t we just here? I swear I just saw that brunette in the last place we were.”

“Which one?” I quip, knowing that, like the casinos, the people are starting to blend together, too.

I steer my brothers toward the blackjack tables. Might as well win some money while we’re here.

A seething mass of tourists flood the casino floor—sunburned tourists with their lanyards and yard-long margaritas, dead-eyed gamblers hunched over slot machines, and bachelor parties two days into their benders. High rollers in designer suits hover around the VIP tables while cocktail waitresses in too-tight uniforms navigate the labyrinth with practiced smiles. Off-duty dancers mingle at the bars with tech bros and convention attendees, and everyone is bathed in that artificial light that makes it impossible to tell if it’s noon or midnight.

Pure Vegas chaos—both exactly what you’d expect and somehow more surreal in person.

It’s a shitshow. I can’t wait to get back to the ranch on Monday.

“How much have you had to drink?” Owen asks Toby, but I snort at the hypocrisy of his question, even if I’ve been wondering the same thing myself.

We’ve all been drinking strong since noon, and not one of us is slowing down. In fact, it’s high time we invest in some dinner or... breakfast?

“What the hell time is it anyway?” I ask.

Toby stares at his phone, straining at the numbers, but gives up without giving me an answer. I guess that answers the question about his sobriety, anyway.

I flop down at a table, and heads turn as they tend to do when the three of us are together. People never get tired of gawking at identical triplets. We’re used to the stares by now.

Toby falls unceremoniously into a chair next to me, manspreading as he drapes his elbows over the table, but he ignores the dealer, who tries to cut him into the hand. Abruptly, he falls back in his chair as something catches his eye, and suddenly, an elbow lodges itself into my ribs.

I grimace as I look at my cards. “What?” I snap, raising my head to nod politely at the other two players before offering Toby a scathing look. I fucking hate it when he does that. He’s like an overgrown five-year-old.

“Bachelorette party.” His steel-gray eyes are gleaming as he gestures toward the bar.

I roll my eyes.

Behind us, Owen grunts. “How novel,” he mutters sarcastically. “A bachelorette party in Vegas. Who could have imagined?”

Their voices carry clear across the room, the group’s shrill laughter ricocheting toward us. They’re giving the other tourists some competition with all their bluster, and it’s obnoxiously impressive.

I go back to ignoring them but then change my mind. Bachelorette parties might be worth a second look. There’s always a bridesmaid or two looking for a Vegas story that’ll stay in Vegas.

Half-eying the group of rowdy women, I check my cards and tap the table to stay. Toby scowls when he sees my hand. Despite his altered state, he doesn’t say what I know is on his mind.

Why didn’t you hit? You have seventeen!

Toby wears his expressions all over his face as clear as day, and that’s why we never play poker with him or take him into business negotiations. We’d lose our shirts in a heartbeat.

The man nods around the table before turning over his cards. “Dealer calls. Twenty.”

One of the other players chuckles with his Blackjack hand, and I shrug and show my hand, standing.

“You probably would have won if you’d taken another hit,” Toby tries to whisper, but it comes out much louder than he intends.

“It’s easy to criticize when you’ve got nothing at stake,” Owen offers in my defense.

“Brock should have asked for another card.” Toby sulks as if my call was a personal insult to him. “We’re in Vegas. You gotta take risks sometimes, you know?”

I smirk lightly and lead us toward the bar. “That’s why I’m in charge of the ranch’s finances, and you’re not.”

It wasn’t meant to be hurtful—not really, but I can tell it burned him. His stormy eyes flash at my taunt, but Owen steps between us, steering our baby brother toward the group of party girls. The eighteen minutes between me and Toby might as well be eighteen years some days—most days. “Let’s go meet some oversexed midwestern women, shall we?”

As we amble closer, the women immediately flock to us, their eyes lighting up as we approach.

“Well, hello!” the bride slurs, and I instantly recognize our mistake.

They’re far too drunk already. This isn’t going to turn out well for any of us.

Her bloodshot eyes are set on me, her manicured hand landing on my chest like she’s claiming a prize.

Tequila leaks from every pore as she tips her head back and stares up at me like I might kiss her—or carry her off to a chapel.

She stumbles forward, and as much as I’d rather not touch her, I catch her to keep her from falling on her face. Alarm bells fire off in my head. I need to get out of here before I find myself in a world of trouble.

“Damn, you’re hot,” she slurs, licking her lips. Then her gaze swings to my brothers. “Wait… You guys look alike. Three super hot guys who look exactly alike?”

Something tells me her marriage isn’t going to last long.

Smoothly, an arm pries her from me, guiding her out of my clutches. I find myself staring into the most beautiful emerald stare, her blonde hair falling just to her shoulders.

Unlike the bride-to-be, she’s coherent.

“They’re triplets, Belle,” the blonde informs the bride, offering me a reproving look.

I blink innocently and hold up my hands.

“Triplets?!” The entire party screams in unison.

We’re encircled like celebrities, and I catch Owen’s expression of discontent as he tries to untangle himself from the mix. It’s my turn to give the nasty look. The blonde looks sheepish and hands off her drunk friend to a nearby woman.

“You guys need to go upstairs,” she orders them, but they’re fixated on me and my brothers now.

Someone touches my face, and another one grabs my bicep. I shudder as we’re being mauled by the inebriated mob.

“You’re so strong! Are you cowboys?”

“I love your hat!”

“Are you into threesomes?”

I feel a tug on my hand as I try to back out of the group gracefully, repelled by their sloppiness.

Turning, I see the blonde gesturing for me to follow her. “Come this way,” she urges, pulling me to the right, away from the bar.

“Don’t take him!” one of the women yells. “You can’t steal the hotties!”

“Take Belle upstairs, or I’m going to call Paul!” she threatens. “I have a video of you and the stripper, and I swear I’ll play it at your wedding, Belle!”

Belle gasps aloud at the threat. “You wouldn’t!”

“I will if you don’t go upstairs and sleep right now!” she fires back, hurrying out of their line of sight. “I’m not letting you do something you’ll regret.”

“Stop ruining the fun!” one of the other women screams after her, and I think I hear the blonde laughing, but I can’t be sure because she’s gone.

I don’t need to be asked twice to go with her, not when her undulating hips call me in those high-waisted pants that show off a small, but perfectly sculpted ass that I want to sink my teeth into. I’m so fixated on the curve of it that I almost bump into her when she stops by the elevators.

I back off immediately.

“Sorry about that,” she laughs, lifting her face to mine, eyes dancing with mischief.

“About what? You didn’t threaten to ruin my marriage,” I reply, leaning against the wall, my hand automatically reaching up to adjust my Stetson like I do when I’m thinking, or caught off guard.

Not sure what the case is here quite yet.

Her green eyes sparkle. “I wasn’t trying to make things worse by pulling you away from them—your brothers.” She rubs her hands down the front of her pants, eyes skimming past mine.

“Oh no?” I arch a brow. “Looked like you were enjoying yourself just a little.”

She flushes, her gaze dipping. “Okay, maybe a little. But I still feel kind of bad about it.”

I tilt my head. “You don’t sound like you’re from around here.”

She meets my gaze again, a smile tugging at her lips. “Neither do you.”

“Texas,” I say, giving her a look like it’s obvious.

“I figured,” she says, amused.

“What gave it away?” I tease. “The boots? The hat? Or just the charm?”

“All of it…” she replies coyly, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear, revealing the skin of her neck. “And maybe the accent. I’m from Texas, too.”

I picked up on the Texas drawl right away, but now that she’s confirmed where she’s from, I’m even more intrigued.

I wonder how she’d react if I kissed her neck and the smooth skin along her collarbone, right here in the middle of the casino.

Would she slap my face or grab my ass and pull me in closer?

The temptation is almost insurmountable, and I bite on the insides of my cheek to stop myself from acting on it. I don’t know what it is about her, but I like it.

Her friends I could do without.

“Seriously?” Owen barks out from behind me as he stomps toward us.

I turn and see his gray eyes flashing indignantly.

“You left us there, Brock? With those animals?”

The blonde laughs and covers her mouth, clearly entertained. Toby reluctantly follows Owen, glancing over his shoulder like he’s not ready to leave.

But it only takes seconds for my brothers to lose their sullen expressions. Their scowls fade when their eyes lock onto the woman now standing beside me.

“Hello…” Toby steps forward, eager to make himself seen, and I roll my eyes. “And who do we have here?”

“We have a lady without a drink in her hand,” I answer, taking the lead. “Let’s find her one.”

She hesitates, looking toward her party, but they aren’t visible from where we’re standing. “Where do you want to go?”

Interest ignites in me. “We can go anywhere you want.” I eye my brothers, who nod in agreement.

Her eyes go wide, and she quickly turns her head. “Uh-oh.”

I follow her gaze and spot her bachelorette party weaving their way toward us. One of them bumps into a wall, and she cringes, but another one leads her friend toward the elevators. We duck out of sight to watch.

She exhales when they get on the elevator, visibly relieved that they did what she told them.

“Lightweights.” She rolls her eyes as she turns back to us.

Toby snorts. “That’s gonna be some hangover in the morning.”

“Let’s get out of here,” she says.

I don’t need any more encouragement. I guide her toward the exit, making sure no one notices as we slip out into the thick Nevada night. It’s later than I realized.

Neon flashes brightly as music spills randomly from cars and businesses alike. Every so often, a hint of cooked meat permeates the air as we walk away from the resort, heading toward Las Vegas Boulevard.

She leads us into a bar, like she’s been here before or just knows exactly what she wants. The music inside is upbeat, the kind that makes it impossible not to move with the rhythm.

She throws a glance over her shoulder, a spark in her eyes. “This place seems fun.”

We follow her toward the bar, slipping through the crowd as the bass shakes the floor. She gestures to the bartender. “Four beers and four shots.”

“I’ve got it,” I say, reaching for my wallet.

She waves me off. “Don’t worry about it. Consider it a thanks for the rescue.”

I shoot a look at my brothers, and they both raise their brows like they’re just as surprised as I am. Still, we’re not about to argue. The drinks land in front of us, and we lift the shots in silent agreement before tossing them back.

I lean in, catching her scent—something warm and unexpected, like spice and fresh-cut apples. It clings to her skin, wild and addictive.

“What’s your name?” I ask, close to her ear.

She stares at me for a long time, a smile curving on her lips. “Diana.”

My brow lifts, the name landing wrong. She hesitated just a little too long.

“Diana?” I echo.

She nods. “Yep.”

Her glittering eyes tell me she’s lying, but I don’t press her. If she doesn’t want to give me her real name, who am I to push? “Diana works for me,” I tell her. “I’m Brock.”

She drapes her arms around my neck, pulling me toward her, startling me with her brazenness. With her lips inches from mine, she beams, hot breath turning me on against my face. “You know what?”

“What’s that, Diana ?”

“I don’t care.”

Dropping her arms, she continues dancing. I catch Owen’s surprised look over her head and burst out laughing.

The bar gets fuller by the minute, standing room only as tourists flood the dimly lit dance floor. Her eyes catch the light, bright with energy, and my hands find excuses to touch her—fingertips brushing her bare shoulders, gently moving a few loose strands of blonde hair away from her skin. I settle my palms on her hips as she presses into me, moving to the beat while Toby closes in on her other side.

She’s confident and unfiltered, tossing back shots like a pro but chasing them with water, pacing herself like she’s done this before.

When I return from the bathroom, I see Toby behind her, his mouth trailing over the delicate lines of her neck. A euphoric expression colors her pretty face, and I stifle the uncontrollable urge to haul her out of there and into the nearest hotel room. Hell, I don’t even know if I’d make it that far. She’s too fucking hot.

She’s in her element here. I find myself wondering how she’d ever been invited to that bachelorette party in the first place, with those inebriated, obnoxious women. This woman dances to her own rhythm. She fits perfectly out here in the untamed world—with us.

Though maybe it’s just Vegas bringing this out in all of us.

I don’t typically act this way back at Pine Sky, do I?

Drunk and sweating, we leave the bar, laughing and heading into the wee hours of the morning, but the city is still wide awake.

“I haven’t danced like that in forever!” Diana gushes, leaning against Owen, who holds her up easily.

I scrutinize her with narrowed eyes, taking in her heavy-lidded gaze and the slight wobble in her stance. Her cheeks are flushed—from exhaustion or the alcohol, I can’t quite tell.

As if she’s reading my thoughts, she rights herself and flashes me a huge smile. Relief washes through me. There’s no taking advantage of this one.

“I’m sure you would have gone out with your friends from the bachelorette party,” Owen offers.

I scowl at my brother.

Why would he even bring that up? Now she’s going to be worried about them.

Her lips twist into a grimace. “I guarantee they passed out as soon as I left them at the casino. I warned them to pace themselves, but they started doing shots during brunch. No one even responded when I texted to let them know I wasn’t dead.”

“Their loss is our gain.” I reach for her waist to pull her closer. “I’m glad your friends can’t handle their liquor.”

She squeals and giggles as we head across the busy roadway toward our hotel.

Abruptly, she stops in her tracks as we cross the lush hotel grounds toward the entrance, her eyes widening with mischief. “Is that... Oh, wow.”

“What now?” Toby asks slowly, confused by her sudden change in focus.

“That,” she breathes, pointing toward the sprawling oasis to our right where the massive pool glimmers under moonlight, the cabanas dark and deserted. “It looks magical.”

“That’s the VIP area,” I tell her as we pause on the pathway. “It’s reserved for high rollers and celebrities. Regular guests aren’t allowed in.”

“So?” Her eyes dance with a challenge. “Can sneaking past velvet ropes be any harder than breaking a wild stallion? Aren’t you cowboys?”

“Being from Texas doesn’t automatically make us cowboys,” I joke.

“All hat and no cattle?” she taunts, nodding at my Stetson with a knowing smirk.

Damn. She’s got me there.

“We have horses, not cattle,” Toby corrects.

Owen shoves him hard enough to make him stumble.

Her gaze drifts back toward the darkened pool area. “Surely it’s not that hard to sneak in for a quick swim, is it?”

In the low light, her pupils are blown wide, and I can tell she’s riding that perfect level of tipsy where inhibitions fade, but coordination remains. I wonder if stone-cold sober Diana would ever suggest something this reckless.

My brothers exchange knowing glances at her challenge, and I raise an eyebrow, scanning for security cameras. This place probably has dozens, but the shadows between cabanas offer blind spots.

I catch Toby’s eye, and a silent understanding passes between us. We’ve done this dance before—taking turns, never competing. It’s how we’ve always operated with women. Tonight, somehow, the unspoken lottery has landed on me.

“I’ll distract the pool attendant if anyone shows,” Toby offers with a grin. “Owen can keep watch at the entrance.”

He’s being gracious, but I know he’ll collect on this favor later.

But something about this woman’s daring smile makes me care more about having her to myself right now than whatever debt I’ll owe my brother tomorrow.

She’s the devil herself. A tempting, reckless devil, and I’m too buzzed to refuse when she’s looking at me like that with her lips parted and her eyes full of promise.

My cock has been hard for hours anyway.

“Fine,” I agree, dropping my arm from her waist. It took embarrassingly little convincing.

Tossing my hat to Toby, I duck under the velvet rope cordoning off the VIP section. Eight-foot palm trees and luxury cabanas create the perfect cover. I slip through silently, helping Diana follow. She moves with surprising agility, barely making a sound as she joins me. My brothers melt into the shadows near the entrance, Toby giving me a thumbs-up.

“What’ll happen if we get caught?” Diana whispers as we creep between cabanas toward the private infinity pool. The water glows an ethereal blue from underwater lights, the surface perfectly still and inviting.

“I’ll tell them I had no choice. That you roped me into this,” I joke. “I mean, look at you, with those dangerous eyes and seductive tone.”

She leans in, her lip caught between her teeth, clearly enjoying herself. “You’d really sell me out like that?” She flutters her lashes like a cartoon villain, pretending to be innocent.

“Why not?”

She steps closer until her body presses flush against mine, the heat of her seeping through my clothes. “Because I really want to fuck you, Brock, and that would definitely change my mind.”

Her lips crash against mine before I can respond, and I return her kiss with equal hunger. The tension that’s been building all night erupts, and I back her against the nearest cabana wall, my hands sliding under her shirt to find bare skin. She gasps at the contact.

For a second, she hesitates, eyes wide. “I thought you were pushing me away.”

I bury my face in her neck, my voice rough against her skin. “Who the fuck could push you away?”

Her perfume hits me hard, my lips trailing along the slope of her throat. My fingers work the button of her pants, mouth dipping lower to brush the swell of her tits.

A soft moan escapes her when I take her nipple between my teeth.

“I’m surprised my brothers didn’t bend you over right on that dance floor,” I murmur, kissing down her stomach.

Her pants slide lower under my grip, the scent of her arousal punching straight through me. My cock throbs against my boxers as I lower my mouth to her heat, tracing the seam of her center with my tongue.

She twists her fingers in my hair, breath catching. “Fuck.”

My voice is muffled against her skin. “You taste even better than I imagined. The boys are missing out.”

She rises slightly, watching through half-lidded eyes as I circle her swollen clit with my tongue. Her pants bunch lower as I make room for my fingers, sliding one inside and groaning at how slick she already is.

Her gaze locks with mine, pupils wide and hungry. “I need you to fuck me,” she moans, voice raw with need.

I keep my focus, despite the ache pounding between my legs. “Not yet,” I tell her. “Not here.”

This spot’s too exposed, too open.

My mouth closes over her center, and her thighs lock around my head.

Perfect.

I ease a second finger inside, curling just right, thrusting deeper as her hips jerk against my mouth.

“You’re going to make me come!”

I hum in agreement, the vibration against her clit sending her over the edge. She shudders violently, her hand fisting in my hair hard enough to sting. I don’t care.

“Fuck,” she gasps, trembling.

I rise, licking my lips with a smug grin as I help her steady herself on shaky legs.

She grabs my belt. “Wait, we’re not done. I told you what I want.”

I laugh, nodding toward the hotel. “Staff makes rounds constantly. We should get back before my brothers end up getting questioned by security.”

My thumb brushes her swollen lower lip. “But our suite has a jacuzzi on the balcony. Plenty of space—and time.”

She reluctantly fastens her pants, though that spark of interest glows brightly in her eyes. “Yeah?” Her voice drops, sultry. “With all of you?”

One brow arches. “Would you like that?”

She bites her lip, color blooming across her cheeks. “Would you guys?”

“Fuck yes, we would.”

It won’t be the first time we’ve shared a woman, but we’ve never shared one like this. So bold. So fucking perfect.

Whoever the hell she really is.