Chapter Twelve
Logan stopped his horse waiting for Becky to catch up to him and Sophie. The baby squirmed, her bottom lip pushing out in a clear statement. Unable to resist, he chuckled. “Hang on there, half pint.” He nudged his horse into turning a circle. Sophie bounced and kicked her legs, fully approving.
With the baby quiet for a minute, he watched as Becky guided Gemma up to them. Damn, she looked good on her mount. She still had a ways to go to be able to keep up with him, but her seat was natural and the glow in her face told him she loved it. The thought of riding full out with Becky, tearing across the pastures, laughing… Don’t go there. They only had a short time together, then he had to let her go. And after he’d hurt her with that stunt he’d pulled a week ago, Logan tried to keep his hands off her. Every day was harder though, he ached to hold her, kiss her. He missed that intimacy he had with Becky.
Stopping Gemma next to him, she smiled at her baby then lifted her gaze to him. “You doing okay?”
That right there was exactly what he meant. Despite her fear that she’d lose her baby, she was concerned that holding Sophie might trigger his PTSD. “I can control it as long as I’m outside.” The low grade anxiety was there, like a fly following him. Right now, focusing on getting his father on their side in the custody battle helped.
Not a chance in hell he’d let his old man see him struggling with flashbacks or anxiety.
Sophie fussed and squirmed, tired of waiting.
Becky’s eyes crinkled at the corners, and she leaned over to stroke Sophie’s arm. “Hope that impresses your dad.”
Those sweet gestures of love between Bec and her baby might look small to someone else, but to him, they were huge. That constant reassurance that Sophie was loved, cherished, and protected. This kid would never wake in the morning to find her mother had vanished.
He shut down that line of thought and answered her question as he nudged Remy into a walk. “Trust me, this will work. When he sees how much she loves horses, he’ll support us in the custody battle.”
She guided her horse next to him. “That easy?”
His neck tensed. “It’s never easy with him. Most kids are a little afraid of a horse the first time they see them.”
“What was it like when you first saw a horse?”
“I refused to get anywhere near it.” He’d never seen a horse up close before, and it scared the piss out of him.
“Was Brian mad?”
“Disgusted. He refused to have a sniveling coward for a son. He dragged me in the training ring with all the ranch hands watching—” He clamped his jaw closed.
“That was cruel.” Outrage cut through her voice.
“Long time ago, Bec. It doesn’t matter.”
But that fact that she cared…yeah that mattered to him. A lot more than he wanted to admit.
Oh, it mattered, Becky thought as she kept pace next to Logan and Sophie. What had he been, eight? Torn out of his life and thrown into a new one, with no one there he knew? Yet he’d survived, and mastered riding horses. But the biggest kicker? Logan wasn’t cruel. His father had been so harsh with him, yet Logan was gentle and patient with her.
Her throat tightened with a wave of thick desire to touch and sooth him, to chase out the lonely certainty that he couldn’t love. Or be loved. Logan had erected emotional walls to survive, yet he craved a real connection during sex.
Sex was his way of feeling, and she’d tried to turn it into a meaningless physical encounter to protect her heart. It didn’t work. She cared more now than a week ago, so why fight it? Determination seared through her. No more holding back. Instead, she was going to give herself to him completely. And when the time came to split up, she’d let him go and accept the pain.
“That’s Abby in the ring on her horse.”
Pulling herself out of her thoughts, she concentrated on his sister. Abby’s face was shadowed beneath her hat, but her long sinewy body sat perfectly aligned with the saddle while talking to Brian. Logan’s father had the same seat on his horse on the side of the ring.
Becky scanned the entire area. “There’s a calf in the ring.” A little brown guy nosed the fence line.
“Abby’s practicing roping. She competes and does demonstrations. She also trains horses for roping and a few other things.”
“She’s good at roping?”
“Top ranked, but she’d much rather run the ranch.”
“Then why does she do it?”
“Abby does everything our father wants in the hopes that one day he’ll see her as something more than a showpiece.”
Not wanting to be overheard, she let that go. Brian and Abby turned to them as they approached.
Logan stopped his horse close to her. “Becky, this is Abby.”
She shifted her gaze to Logan’s half sister. Her face was lean, her eyes sharp. “Hi, Abby, nice to meet you.”
“You’re holding the reins in two hands. Hold them in your left like this.” She held up her gloved hand to demonstrate. “Our horses are trained for that.”
Becky flushed. “Sorry, I haven’t been riding very long. Logan’s teaching me.”
“Your seat is decent for a beginner. Bring your elbows in slightly, right there. Now position your hand right here in front of the pommel.” She demonstrated.
Becky was slightly mesmerized by the woman. Abby’s voice wasn’t unkind, just factual.
“You’re a fast learner. Relax your right arm on your thigh.” Once Becky did that, Abby nodded.
“Thanks for the help.”
“No problem. The horse will respond better if your seat and handling are familiar to her.”
Becky leaned forward and rubbed Gemma’s neck. “She’s been really patient with me. She doesn’t even mind Sophie’s excited yells.”
Abby’s face softened. “She has a forgiving temperament. Logan rescued her, and spent one of his times on leave working with her to gain her trust.”
Becky’s interest spiked. “Rescue?” She turned to Logan, recalling that he’d told her working with abused or poorly trained horses was his favorite thing.
His jaw clenched. “Bad breaking and training. Those bastards nearly destroyed her spirit. When we got her, her mouth was all torn up. It took a month or two just to get her healthy before I started training her.”
Her chest ached for the poor animal. “How can people do that? Look at her. She’s so sweet. She even lets Sophie slobber all over her trying to hug her.” She had to blink the sick rage from her eyes so she didn’t embarrass Logan with her tears in front of his family.
Sophie chose that moment to bounce in Logan’s arms and complain.
Becky edged Gemma closer and took her baby’s hand. “Brian, this is Sophie. She’s my daughter.”
“What’s she squalling about?”
Logan laughed. “Because we stopped. She wants to ride. Or pet all the horses. Watch.” Logan clicked his tongue, and Remy backed up. Within three steps, Sophie quieted. Logan walked the animal, then set him into a jog. In seconds, Sophie laughed and kicked her legs. He brought Remy smoothly back around on Becky’s right.
Brian’s eyes lit up. “How old is she?”
Pride spread like warm oil through Becky’s chest. “Less than four months. I thought she’d be afraid, but she loves horses. She has Jiggy, our little dog, at home and she adores him, but this surprised me.”
Sophie frowned and let out an unhappy sigh.
“Abby,” Brian said, “rope the calf. Let’s see what the kid does.”
Logan’s sister lifted the coiled rope off the saddle.
Brian turned to Becky. “Know anything about roping?”
She shook her head while noting her daughter was watching Abby.
“The rope is a lariat. See how she holds the coils with the reins in her left hand? From that she feeds the loop in her right hand to rope the calf.” He turned to his daughter. “When you’re ready.”
Abby and her horse set off. That startled the calf into a run. The horse was incredibly agile, able to follow as the creature darted left and right. While watching the calf and controlling the horse, Abby effortlessly built the loop in her right hand, then twirled it overhead and threw it.
The loop slid around the calf.
Once the calf was in place, Abby got off and freed it while the horse stood still.
“Well, look at that.”
Brian’s comment tugged Becky’s gaze from Abby and she smiled at her daughter. Logan held her high, and Sophie’s eyes were glued to the scene in the training ring. Quiet and totally focused.
Brian led his horse out of the ring. “Logan, give the baby to Becky and go rope the calf. See if Sophie watches you.”
Becky started to dismount.
“What are you doing?”
Flushing at her father-in-law’s sharp question, she grimaced. “I’m not sure I can hold Sophie and keep control of Gemma if something happened.”
“She’ll see better from the saddle.” He turned his gaze. “Sophie, come here darlin’. Let’s watch your step-daddy do some real work.” He took Sophie from Logan, then eased his horse closer to Becky.
Sophie was more interested in Logan as he got into the ring than who was holding her. Logan took the rope from Abby and showed it to his horse.
“Remy is a good roping horse,” Brian said. “Logan is letting him know they’ll be working with the lariat. Next he’ll warm him up in the ring.”
Logan worked that rope like an extension of his hand, while controlling Remy. By the time Logan and Remy chased the calf, they were working as a seamless team while Abby watched.
“Did a little research on your background. Dylan Ridgemont is Sophie’s father. You were both involved in a hit-and-run in Austin.”
The abrupt comment made her jump. Gemma shifted uneasily, probably trying to figure out what Becky wanted. She calmed the horse, taking a minute to recover. “Yes.” Lifting her head, she added, “He didn’t want her until he got out of prison.”
“Family wants her. If you have her, you can cause them trouble.”
“I don’t want to cause trouble. I don’t want anything from them.” She took a breath. Since Brian had asked, it’d be better to tell him all of it now. “We saw our lawyer today, the court is ordering a home study.”
His eyebrows shot up. “You’re dragging my son into a mess.”
The edge in his voice bit deep, but it was also true. “I know. And, by extension, your family. The social worker will want to talk to all of you.”
“If you’re the real thing, the woman who can keep Logan here where he belongs, taking over the ranch, then I’ll support you in the custody battle. But if you’re playing on my son’s weaknesses, then I’ll make sure you lose custody.”
Becky sucked in a breath at both the threat and the word “weaknesses.” Did Brian know about Logan’s PTSD and his struggles? “What weaknesses?”
“He’s always been soft, that boy. His mother tried to ruin him.” Brian shook his head.
She had the fierce urge to defend her husband. “Logan’s strong and knows his own mind.”
“Strong is being a man and doing your duty. Not chasing a child’s dream and running a camp for men who can’t deal with life. He wants to have that as a charity, fine, we can spin it to make it look good. But he needs to take up his birthright of this ranch.” He stared hard at Becky. “Your job is to make that happen.”
And if she didn’t? Fear congealed in her stomach. Sophie looked perfectly safe in his arms atop the horse. Her little girl was so busy watching Logan and Abby team roping the calf, she didn’t care who held her. “Are you saying if I don’t, you won’t help fight for Sophie?”
“I’m saying this ranch and the Knight name come first.”
…
Becky laid Sophie back in her crib. She usually didn’t wake up to eat at two a.m. anymore. Her pediatrician had said that was a sign she was ready for a little baby cereal.
Stretching her back, she headed for the kitchen to grab a bottle of water. In the hallway, she frowned at Logan’s opened door. She glanced in his room. The covers were thrashed and he wasn’t there.
Heaviness settled in her chest at the evidence of his nightmare. This time, she wouldn’t leave him alone to suffer. She was his wife and she would damn well take care of him. Hooking the quilt with her fingers, she jerked it off the bed and went in search of her husband. Stepping out on the cold front porch, she called softly, “Logan?”
“Right here. Sophie okay?”
Wrapping the blanket around her shoulders, she walked across the deck. At least there was more moonlight tonight then the last time she’d discovered him out here. “You heard her cry? Did she wake you?” He wore only his black pajama bottoms. His eyes were smudged with fatigue and something much darker. Memories?
“Her cries rescued me from my nightmare. And you…” He closed his eyes and his hands fisted on the arms of the chair. “Go inside. Close your door. Tell me to stay out.”
So much raw need crackled in his voice, her skin tingled. He held himself back, separate and alone. The air between them vibrated with a magnetic force tugging them close.
For a week they’d both resisted.
No more. She let the blanket slide off. Pressing her hands on his shoulders, she said softly, “No. I don’t want you to stay out. I want you buried so deep inside me, I’ll carry the memory of you and our time together until my last breath.” Saying the truth and accepting it freed her. She wanted Logan with no conditions, no lines. That wasn’t bad, it was real and honest. They weren’t making promises.
They were making memories.
She wanted them. She might never find this again, a man who saw her like he did.
His nostrils flared, his arms bulged. Then something snapped and Logan surged up out of the chair.
Becky stumbled back, tangling in the blanket.
His hands closed around her waist, catching her. “I won’t let you fall.” Leaving one hand on her, he scooped the blanket off the ground, swung it around her shoulders, and pulled her to his mouth. “Open, sugar.”
She tilted her face up and kissed him. God, he tasted good, like a rich wine sliding over her tongue and creating hunger for more. Decadent and enticing, she chased his tongue, catching and sucking until he groaned.
Logan shifted, pulling back enough to lightly sink his teeth in her bottom lip, then licking the slight sting, creating tingles down her throat. Her breasts grew heavy, her nipples sensitive against his chest.
She ran her palms down his sides, desperate to memorize his powerful body. Loving the feel of his muscles bunching and shifting beneath her touch, she couldn’t get enough of him.
He pressed his erection against her belly. Breaking the kiss, he buried his face in her hair. “Becky, I want you.”
She dragged her hands around to caress his warm skin, then over the waistband of his cotton pants. His muscles twitched, showing her how much power a small touch had over this huge man. “You have me.”
Cupping her face, his eyes burned into hers. “I don’t have a condom out here, but I can make you come. No one is here. It’s just us under the moonlight. Will you let me do that?”
“No.”
He went completely still. It was long seconds before he said, “Not outside?”
“It’s my turn. I want to see you in the moonlight.” Dipping her thumbs into his pants, she kissed his jaw, his stubble rough on her lips. She loved the feeling of Logan like this—raw and real. Unable to resist, she licked the sexy dip between his throat and shoulder.
Logan shivered, his fingers digging into her hair and sliding over her scalp. “Take what you want.”
She tracked down the path of his muscles, finding every groove. Lifting her head, she said, “I’ve wanted to do this since that first night when you came out of the shower and posed. You had these tiny beads of water sliding down and disappearing beneath the towel.” She tugged his pants down an inch. Then stopped.
“Where did you see the water go?” Desire thickened his voice.
“Here.” She flicked her tongue around a nipple, then licked the tip.
His hand tightened in her hair, creating a sensual sting on her scalp. “And?”
“Down here.” After dragging her tongue over his ribs, she added, “And then all these ridges here.” Becky crouched lower, her thighs protesting after all her time spent in the saddle today. She didn’t care, her entire focus was on Logan. The way his muscles clenched at the touch of her mouth, his breath hissing when she licked the inside of his hipbone.
It wasn’t enough. Sitting back on her heels, she slowly drew his pants down his legs.
His cock sprang free, erect and proud. Wrapping her hand around the base, she stroked up the silken steel. He was long and thick, and when she reached the head, she brushed the pad of her thumb over the swollen tip.
“You keep touching me, I won’t last.” He pushed into her hand.
She tilted her head up. Dusky color rode his cheekbones, his eyes burned. “Then how about I lick you instead?”
Before he could answer, Becky drew her tongue slowly up his length then closed her mouth around him.
…
Logan’s chest locked as her mouth glided along his shaft. Like paradise. He struggled to keep control, but then he looked down.
The thin moonlight spilled over her tangled honey hair, her eyes closed as his swollen cock tunneled into her hot mouth. The blanket had slid from her shoulders, leaving her in a raspberry-colored tank and white panties kneeling at his feet. So damned giving. Filling all the ugly cracks inside of him with her sweet beauty.
In two months or so, she would be gone.
A primitive drive exploded in him. He had to possess her, get so deep inside her, she’d never be free of him. Never. He reached down, pulled her up to his mouth. Jerking the blanket from the ground, he tossed it over the railing and sat her on it.
“I—”
“You want me so deep inside you, you won’t forget me. That’s what you said.”
“Yes.”
Logan shoved up her shirt until her breasts spilled out. “Hold onto my shoulders.” Bracing one hand on her lower back to hold her, he cupped her breast and dragged his tongue over the distended nipple. Her answering shudder goaded him into lightly scraping his teeth over the sensitive bud. A breathy moan rewarded him.
Her fingers dug into his shoulder, her hips moving. “It’s not enough. Please.”
Her desperate cry arrowed through him. Lifting his head, he saw it there in her, too. So little time. How would they get enough? His cock throbbed to get inside her. “You need this.” He drew his hands up her bare thighs, feeling goosebumps rise on her skin. Pressed her legs apart. “Say it.” He needed to know he wasn’t alone, wasn’t using her.
“I need us. For however long we have.”
That shredded the last of his control. Logan shoved aside her panties and cupped his hand over her. Oh hell. She was slick and wet, her folds swollen. When he circled her clit, she whimpered. “Don’t walk away. Don’t leave me like this.”
Shame and fury at himself rivaled the fierce lust and huge need for her. He’d walked away from her that night a week ago, humiliating her. “Never again, baby. You need my arms, my mouth, or my cock, and they’re yours.” With both hands he gripped the damp panel of material nestled between her thighs, and ripped it.
Grabbing hold of his shaft, he lined up to her entrance. The silky wet sensation nearly made his eyes roll back. So damn good. Couldn’t stop. He powered into her.
Becky gasped, her eyes wide and vulnerable. “Condom.”
Sheathed in her body, he tried to think. But he was lost. Becky surrounded him, he was feeling every part of her with nothing between them. “I don’t want a barrier. No more barriers.”
She wrapped her long legs around him, her soft thighs cradling his hips and Logan’s mind blazed hot. He jerked her forward, thrusting balls-deep. Pulled out.
Again.
Nothing felt like this. So damned perfect as her body closed around him, her walls gloving him. Logan sealed his mouth over hers, tasting her cries as he pumped, finding every spot that made her moan, gasp, bite his tongue, and beg.
Fire raced down his spine. His balls drew up. His heart thundered as everything slid away but them. Becky in his arms, her mouth on his, her legs around him as he surged into her molten channel.
Her legs trembled. Walls tightened. His cock swelled, going impossibly hard. Breaking the kiss, he locked into her gaze. Clamping her hip, he tilted her until he was rubbing over her clit with every thrust.
Becky threw her head back and convulsed. Hard. Her entire body shaking. Raw, greedy cries spilling from her throat.
He slammed into her and exploded. Burying his face in her neck, he inhaled her honeysuckle scent. This moment was so perfect he didn’t want to let it go. He should be worried, afraid, or, at the very least, anxious about not using a condom. But Becky’s hands on him chased everything away except the need to care for her. He pulled back to see her soft eyes. “Sleep with me. Please.” He could do it if she let him hold her.
“Okay. Here or in your bed?”
He closed his eyes, swallowing that thick knot in this throat. Not the usual rage that choked him, but something much bigger, more frightening in its own way.
The hope of Becky.
She’d come to him, given him her body with no barriers, and now she was willing to sleep out here on the porch if that was what he needed. Except she wouldn’t sleep. Oh no, not his girl, she loved her baby too much and would go in the house every twenty minutes to check her child. Logan pulled up his pants, handed her shirt to her, then gathered her in his arms. “I want my wife in my bed.”
But for how long?
Did he have it in him to be more than a temporary husband?