Chapter Eight
Kane eased in and out of sleep. Despite his assurances to everyone, who hadn’t listened to him that he was fine, he had a mother of a headache. Before he could begin a full body mental assessment, which would definitely include his ribs and his left hip, he breathed in Sky—lemon verbena and something sweeter, floral. His heart wrenched. He remembered her smell more vividly than her face and touch. Her hair fell around his body and face, covering him like a shroud.
Even through his pain and general pissed off attitude toward Sky and his idiot younger self who had taken no for an answer when she’d sent him away four years ago, Kane found himself fighting a smile. Sometime during the last couple of hours, she had climbed onto the bed with him and wrapped herself around him, sprawling across his body just like she used to.
He had loved sleeping with her. Not just the sex although that had been way over the top amazing and he’d never come close to duplicating the intensity or intimacy before or since with another woman. Hadn’t even tried.
But now she was here.
And he was so close to getting back everything he’d lost before he realized what he’d let slip through his hands. His child slept on a small window seat couch wrapped in his shirt and Sky was in his arms, her breath warm on his neck, her hair silky on his skin and her legs straddling him, which reminded him that part of him was wide awake. The nurse was not going to like that, but since the doctor had talked to him over an hour ago and signed the discharge form, he figured no one would bother them. So he’d let Sky and Montana sleep.
He tangled his hands in her long, silky black hair, and she murmured and snuggled closer.
He wasn’t sure what hurt more: his head, his ribs, their past or his dick.
Four years.
He still couldn’t comprehend why Sky would have kept their child a secret. It was like a bad movie or a book with a glowering asshole hero doing the heroine wrong. Had he been a jerk? Too controlling? That wasn’t hard to picture. Shit. Had he made Sky think she couldn’t have long-term with him? Was it the danger his career posed?
Four years. He’d missed so much.
Last night when she’d woken him up every two hours, instead of letting her ask him stupid questions advised in medical texts, he’d asked her questions. What was Montana’s first word? When had she taken her first step? Had Sky breastfed? What was Montana’s favorite food? Had she ever been sick or hurt? What was her favorite thing to do? So many questions filled his brain.
And Sky had answered the questions, her voice tentative and apologetic at first. Then, after she’d made a bed for Montana on a built-in couch in the room, and wrapped their child in the shirt he’d given Sky to wear, she’d sat beside him, run her fingers along his scalp, which had soothed him from his pain and the anger and bewilderment that continued to course through him.
“She’s smart like you,” Sky had whispered. “Wicked smart. I was already starting to worry about schools.”
And he wanted to throw something. Rage. But he’d done none of those things. He’d held it in, held it together like he had for so long, feeling the fury roar through his blood, sizzle his nerve endings, pound at his brain like a storm—demands and recriminations dammed back for now. His goal for the past seven years he’d been a bull rider was going to have to change. He couldn’t be focused on helping his mother reconstruct her dream of purchasing her family ranch that had fallen into bankruptcy and ruin and restoring it for all of his brothers and their growing families. Now he had a little girl, and Monday he’d have a wife. He had to build something for them and build a life with them.
It sounded good. Fucked up now. But he’d fix it. Make a family with Sky and Montana. It just took will.
*
Sky woke up realizing she and Kane were not alone in the room. She listened, intently, but could hear nothing except the gentle exhalations of Kane’s warm breath on her hair. Montana stirred in her sleep. The alarm hadn’t gone off again so it hadn’t been two hours. How had she ended up sprawled across Kane like they were still a couple? And the tiny shorts and thin T-shirt were not nearly enough protection from his potent masculinity. Her nipples were peaked and she was wet. She was a perve! Kane was injured. What was wrong with her?
Grayish light was filtering in from behind the curtains.
It was a new day. Sky couldn’t begin to imagine what this day would bring when compared to yesterday.
So who was in the room? A nurse or tech would have done something. A fan? So what should she do: jump up and confront the person? Stay still and hope they went away?
“I know you’re awake.” The deep voice was a whisper of sound and Sky rolled off the bed to standing. Balls of her feet, arms away from her body, fists lightly clenched, joints loose, muscles tense, ready.
“You really want to take me on?” No expression crossed the hard, fallen angel face, but the low voice edged toward amusement.
Her heart slammed. He was one of the biggest men she’d ever seen. Taller than Kane by a couple of inches at least and way broader. Muscled in a way that said serious, and he didn’t even react to her sudden movement. He couldn’t have looked less like medical personnel if he’d been practicing.
“Who are you?” she demanded, keeping her voice low.
His eyes looked almost gold in the early morning light beginning to filter in through the shade she’d closed, knowing that light might bother Kane in the morning.
“Who the fuck are you?” he challenged right back.
He was as still as a mountain. All the self-defense moves she knew would be laughable against this man. Everything she’d learned from classes and training as she’d studied yoga and Pilates and spin and kickboxing to teach to college students and professors, and then wealthy professionals to support herself and Montana while she began to build her reputation in the Scottsdale art scene.
Her eyes skidded to Montana—still asleep—then back to the man. Everything about him screamed danger. Even though he was physically so handsome women would spin around and stare if he walked by. And if he approached, their breathing and pulse would be as controlled as a shaken and then opened can of Coke. Just like Kane.
She tried to moisten her dry lips but her mouth was cottony with fear.
“Why are you here?” she whispered, hating the familiar fear and despising her tendency to freeze up even more. Evolutionarily speaking her cowardly genes should have died out millennia ago with one snap of sharp teeth.
“To check on Kane. Give him a ride home if he needs it.”
How the heck did he make that sound threatening? His voice was like liquid honey poured over gravel, and Sky found herself backing up a little until her butt touched the bed, and her arms went out as if the man planned to grab Kane, heft him effortlessly over his shoulder and run.
Was he a friend of Kane’s? He screamed military or something even darker. Why would Kane have a friend like this?
“I’m his brother.” His eyes narrowed at her protective stance. “Move over. I want see him.”
“You’re not Luke.”
“So you know Luke?”
He whipped out a cell phone and took her picture. Then texted something.
“What are you doing?”
“Checking your story.”
“I’m not giving you my story.” His words reminded her of the AEBR public relations director telling her that on the next stop the team would work with her on creating her story with Kane.
“Name?”
“You tell me your name first,” she pushed still holding out hope that she could be different. Stronger.
He surprised her. “Colt.”
Like a gun. Fabulous.
And then he moved toward the bed. Her breath hitched. He froze.
His phone buzzed. He looked at it.
“Luke says ‘hi, Sky.’”
No expression. That rocked her even more, and she was practically sitting on the bed. She eyed the call button, but what would she say? And it would take them a long time to arrive. And some young nurse wasn’t going to be able to handle that man.
“You need to back off,” Sky said, her voice not nearly as strong as she wanted it. Maybe he could call Luke and she could talk to him even though she hadn’t seen him for four years. And she’d only met him a handful of times.
Kane’s hand snaked out and splayed across her stomach, pulling her to the cradle of his hips even as he tried to sit up. He bit back a groan, squeezed his eyes shut, and Sky was torn between soothing Kane and facing the threat.
“Shshshsh,” he whispered in her ear. “It’s okay. You’re okay.”
He was awake. Talking. Remembering. And even though everything was wrong between them, he still tried to comfort her. Sky squeezed her eyes shut on the spurt of tears. She didn’t have the time to cry, but she hadn’t had anyone help her or stand up for her since her brother had died—except Kane, but she’d run from him.
“You should lie down.” She pushed at his muscled shoulders, but of course he didn’t budge. “You’re still hurt.”
“I’m fine.”
“Yeah, right.”
Her hands soothed down his arms, her fingers tracing his corded muscles.
And now a whole different set of sensations danced down her nerve endings and played with her breathing and heart rate. Kane was injured. Everything was wrong between them and yet she still went liquid when Kane touched her. The huge man with the honey-colored eyes that were so cold watched it all. Sky swallowed hard as Kane’s hand heated her flesh and his lips skittered sensation from her neck to her nipples. Kane Wilder wasn’t even trying to seduce her.
What would happen when he did?
What if he didn’t?
“Colt.” Kane sucked in a deep breath and swung his legs over the side of the bed.
He lurched, and Sky tried to block his fall, but stronger hands were faster, steadying Kane. Sky’s gaze darted from a glittering golden glare to a cool gray, pain-filled stare. The guy was hot but intimidating as hell, and Sky had to fight the urge to press closer to Kane. She was supposed to be protecting him.
Ignoring the intense giant, she feathered her fingers through Kane’s curls that brushed his shoulders.
“Do you have a headache? Are you dizzy? You should lie down longer, Kane,” she urged. “At least take the Ibuprofen. The nurse said you can have pain pills. She left two last night.” Sky reached for the paper cup that held the meds on the side table.
“I’m fine.”
Of course he was.
“You didn’t need to come out for this.” Kane sat all the way up, his hand clenched on the rail of the bed. He clearly made an effort to let go of the railing and sit all the way up. “Luke acts like I’m his younger brother,” Kane groused.
“You are, but he’s still a dick that way,” the man said expressionless.
“Don’t want him worried. His wife, Tanner has her scan early tomorrow,” Kane practically growled.
Sky didn’t understand who Colt was. How he could be a brother? And who was Tanner and what scan was she having? She felt a pang because she didn’t belong in this room or this conversation, but she felt left out, which was stupid and would get her into trouble. She’d left Kane Wilder for a reason. A lot of reasons. And every minute in his presence reminded her that all of them had been solid even though she kept forgetting them and now felt guilty about her decision.
A ghost of a smile lit Kane’s lips. “Luke’s as fired up about twins as he was on his wedding day.”
“He’s an idiot. I love being married, but would have skipped the shit involved in the actual day if it wouldn’t have burned Talon’s ass.”
More people she didn’t know. What had Kane been doing the past four years? Collecting strangers and making them family? And what woman had whatever the cool feminine word for balls was to marry that man? She needed some of that mojo in a serious way.
“That’s romantic.” Sky slapped her hand over her mouth. Had she said that? Sarcasm directed at a giant she still wasn’t sure wouldn’t eat her seemed like a bad idea. Although the fact he was married did inspire a little more confidence.
“I’d recommend Vegas.” Colt tilted his head toward the bundle sleeping on the couch, and Sky felt the blood drain from her brain, leaving her light-headed. “Without the Elvis—although you’re such a pretty and popular boy you probably want a tux, the girl in a white frilly dress, champagne and the horse and carriage for your big day.”
He stalked over, flicked the shirt aside to reveal Montana curled up around her bull, her rosebud lips pursed and her curls haloing around her head. Sky jumped protectively to her feet, but Kane linked his fingers with hers.
“Beautiful,” he pronounced. “My niece?”
“Hell yeah.”
Colt looked down at the sleeping child then back at Kane. His eyes were unfathomable.
“Everyone will be thrilled except Luke. One more thing you beat him at, you smug little bastard.”
“Didn’t think of that. He will be pissed.” Kane stood up, his face stoic, but his posture off enough that Sky could tell he hurt. “Colt, this is Sky and my daughter, Montana. Sky, this is my older brother Colt. I have another brother—Laird, his twin.”
Holy cow there were two of them?
Hopefully they lived in different states to mitigate the over the top testosterone and badass vibe.
“Ummmm you only mentioned Luke before,” she said. “I only met Luke when we were…” Well Kane had never seemed like a kid. “When we were…” Friends didn’t sound right either.
“Didn’t mention them because I didn’t know I had them.” Kane sucked in a deep breath, his features creased as he reached for his jeans Sky had folded on a table. “Collected Colt at last year’s Copper Mountain Rodeo, and got Laird at Christmas. Luke and I didn’t know our mom had been so busy.”
Sky couldn’t tell if Kane was serious or not. She looked from Kane to Colt and decided she didn’t need to know this now, especially when Colt picked up Montana and cradled her in his arms.
“I can hold her.” Sky reached out quickly, still pretty sure she didn’t trust him.
“I got her. Got some catching up to do with my niece.” He picked up Kane’s duffel bag, stuffed the flank strap and the chaps in it and slung it over his shoulder. Then he caught up the garment bag with one finger.
“You can help Kane. He still looks a bit green—like he might puke. Last guy who did that on me I put in a coma.”
She really hoped he was joking.
Kane pulled on his jeans, while Sky tried not to notice because she knew for a fact he was not wearing underwear. Then he pulled on his boots, trying and failing to hide his wince. Then he shrugged off the hospital gown. Sky gaped at the purple bruising on one side and a lot of medical tape wrapped around his ribs.
“You good for tape?” Colt asked critically.
“For now.”
Kane took the T-shirt Colt handed him. Then he caught up his Stetson and settled it on his head. All masculine, tough, don’t-mess-with-me cowboy. If she hadn’t seen him ass down in the dirt last night she wouldn’t know he’d been injured. Well except for the bruising near his forehead and the cut through his eyebrow, which somehow made him even more devilishly attractive.
“I don’t understand you,” she said, thinking he really should stay in the hospital, “either of you,” she included Colt.
“That’s because we’re Wilders. An acquired taste.”
“And, baby…” Kane put his hand on the small of her back “…this time you’re eating the whole gourmet meal.”