to let you drive.”
“We made one mistake,” she mumbled, more asleep than awake. “We can’t afford to make another.”
He wasn’t sure whether she meant their one night together or the child. Either way, he wanted to argue the point with her, but she was already out.
He didn’t understand how she could have kept news of her pregnancy from him. She had never been one to play games. The only person who had more rules than Kelly was his dad, and, like the sergeant major, she lived by every stinking one of them.
Considering that, he cursed under his breath and glanced around her to the boy. Though Kelly had passed out, he should have been the one to faint dead away, after learning he was the father of a two-year-old.
Will offered Kelly his cup. When she didn’t move, the toddler cocked his head to one side and said, “Mama night-night.”
Warmth spiraled through James. “Yeah, Will. Mama’s gone night-night.”
The kid nodded and caught the straw with his mouth, then settled back to watch James, wariness in his eyes, the same sort of uncertainty James now felt.
As he turned the pickup onto the county road leading to his land, he couldn’t help but wonder if Kelly hadn’t told him because she’d believed him irresponsible. A rush of anger accompanied that thought, and he tightened his hands on the steering wheel. Well, she’d made her last sole decision where Will was concerned.
From here on out, James would have a say in his son’s future.
The bark of a dog somewhere outside drew Kelly from a deep sleep. She stretched and yawned, then turned on her side. The scent of potent male emanated from the pillow.
Kelly blinked several times before her eyes focused on framed photographs of horses against antique-white walls. A portable TV sat at an odd angle on the nightstand surrounded by stacks of veterinary medicine books and magazines.
She bolted into a sitting position and looked around. He had taken her to his bed. Again. Though last time she’d willingly followed him. Somehow she didn’t remember the bed being so big…or lonely.
Even cloaked in darkness, with soft light slipping through the closed curtains, she recognized his bedroom. She’d memorized every detail during their one time together—the night his gentle touch and honeyed words had broken down her defenses. The night she had given in to the secret love she’d harbored for her best friend. The night she had turned her back on the principles that had been the only constant in her life for as long as she could remember.
Dogs barked again somewhere outside, and the sound of Will crying came through the closed door. Kelly’s arms and legs felt heavy, but she yanked back the covers and jumped to her feet, thankful she still had on her clothes from the day before. Set into action by a deeply ingrained maternal instinct, she hurried to the door, wondering how long she had slept and whether Will was okay.
Her son’s fussing grew louder as she dashed down the hall. She knew instinctively that the man she’d once idolized could handle a two-year-old. She’d watched James work on injured horses and knew he always exercised the utmost care and responsibility. But was James with Will? The need to see for herself that her son was unhurt spurred her forward. Heaven only knew what Will had gotten into while she’d slept. The possibilities made her stomach churn.
Pulse racing, Kelly skidded to a stop as she entered the kitchen. Relief surged through her. She caught the door frame and drew a ragged breath.
Across the room her son knelt on a heavy oak chair pulled up to the open fridge. James stood beside him, dressed in jeans and a chambray shirt with cuffs rolled up to the elbow. Her gaze locked on his muscled forearms, then dropped to his standard, scuffed boots. She couldn’t help but wonder if those were the same boots he hadn’t managed to get off before they’d made love that first time. They hadn’t gotten as far as his bed, either. At least not the first time.
Or the second.
She closed her eyes and tried to ground herself. She’d forgotten how his towering height, his mile-wide shoulders and his to-die-for smile had always affected her.
They still did.
But it was so much more than just the way he was put together and what he did for denim. Her feelings for him ran deep and extended beyond their one night of lovemaking. Her continued longing for him was fueled by the memory of his tenderness and the things he’d said. That she was beautiful. That he wanted her.
He had said things that almost made her forget she had spent most of her life feeling unwanted.
She opened her eyes as James pulled a cardboard box off a wire shelf and offered Will something shriveled and dried. “What about pizza?”
Kelly started to protest, but Will pushed the food away while fussing and jabbering unintelligibly. She recognized her son’s renewed cries were caused by anger and frustration, probably from not getting his way. The only person more stubborn than Will was James. Again her thoughts whirled back to the night they had created Will. After the second time they’d made love, James had tried to tell her they needed to stop, because he didn’t want to hurt her. Kelly smiled at the memory. She’d been shamelessly persistent. Afterward she had been glad she’d broken down his resistance. That one night was all she’d had with him. It was all she would ever have.
Muttering, James tossed the pizza box behind him onto the table, barely visible beneath a pile of discarded items—the same table where he’d made slow, mind-shattering love to her the first time. “You’ve already polished off the only soda I had. That leaves a six-pack of beer, and you can’t have that.”
Will slid to the floor and kicked. When he wanted something, he wanted it immediately.
“Yeah. No offense, partner, but you’re a might young for beer.”
Will sniffled and toddled over to James, catching the leg of his jeans at knee level.
Something in Kelly’s chest shifted. She had known seeing James again would be difficult. But nothing had prepared her for the sight of father and son together. Regret filled her soul. She gulped a shaky breath before squaring her shoulders.
Kelly reminded herself that James had always been and probably still was a free spirit, not at all the commitment type. She would do well to remember why she’d left. But this wasn’t about her.
Would James resent her for tying him down? Was he ready to raise a child, ready for that kind of commitment? These were the same questions she had asked herself when she’d made the decision not to tell him she was pregnant.
But there was no one else to raise Will should the need arise.
“All right, Will.” James closed the refrigerator door and sat on the floor beside his son. “I reckon it’s time to wake your mama.”
Will crawled into James’s lap, and the cowboy looked a little ill at ease as he held his son.
“I’m awake.”
Will rushed at her, his bare feet slapping against the wood floor. She released the door frame and scooped him up into her arms. He snuggled against her shoulder, quiet and content for the moment. “Hey, sweetie. Have you been good?”
With his head buried
