CHAPTER THIRTEEN
THERE WERE A dozen things on Roman’s mind. Unfortunately, they weren’t the right things.
He needed to be going through the invoices and schedules for his rodeo business. That was one of the main reasons he’d come to his office in San Antonio. That, and so he could go to a bunch of meetings with people who either wanted to do business with him or wanted to go through existing contracts and make changes. Normally, these were things he could practically do in his sleep.
Apparently, not today, though.
Or the day before.
Yeah, he’d had this mind haze for a while now, and he could pinpoint the exact moment it started. When he’d gone down on Mila and given her that orgasm. For something that had only taken twenty minutes or so, it was certainly having some lasting effects.
He was worried that he’d already done too much damage, that he’d hurt her. Roman didn’t know that for sure because she hadn’t called him in the two days he’d been gone. She had texted but that’d only been in response to his text to ask her if she was all right. Mila had sent back a one-word reply: Peachy.
What the hell did that mean?
Was she upset and that was her sarcastic way of blowing him off? Or did Mila truly use a word like that?
“Who’s Mila?” his assistant, Joe O’Malley, asked.
Roman frowned, shook his head, and then he realized he’d scribbled her name on notes he was supposed to be making so that Joe could draw up a contract. Hell. What’d happened between them wasn’t just bad news for Mila. It apparently was for him, too.
“Don’t tell me,” Joe went on. “You’ve met your three-sex limit with this woman and now she’s wanting more.” He chuckled. “Women need to find a cure for you.”
Roman’s frown turned to a scowl. Joe wasn’t just his assistant, he was a friend, and sometimes Joe had witnessed him having a bad breakup. Bad as in when Roman had moved on, and his sexual partner hadn’t. It didn’t happen very often, but when it did, it was memorable. Painful, too. It didn’t matter that he hadn’t wanted a relationship with those women. He’d still hurt them.
Exactly what he had been trying to avoid with Mila.
“Well?” Joe pressed.
“I’ve met my limit with her,” he settled for saying. He couldn’t go back for a real first round with Mila because it would be a mistake. He was certain of it. And that’s why he didn’t understand when he took out his phone and sent her another message.
You’re sure you’re okay? he texted.
Since she should be at the bookstore today, he didn’t expect her to answer right away. But she did.
Mila texted him a smiley face.
WTF? Was she trying to drive him crazy?
Joe chuckled again and gathered up the papers they’d been working on. “If that was Mila, I think you should consider changing your rule from three to four. Obviously, this woman’s gotten in your head.”
Yeah, and she wanted to get in his pants, too.
Well, maybe she did. It could be that once had been more than enough for her and that she was over her teenage crush. If so, that was a good thing.
But why did it make him feel like shit?
His phone dinged again with another text. Not Mila this time, but from Billy Lee.
Overnighted the paternity test day before yesterday as soon as you gave it to me, Billy Lee said. I paid for expedited processing and might have the results as early as tomorrow.
That was a good thing, too. Mila and Billy Lee would soon know, and if he was her father, they could figure out how they wanted to handle it. Roman suspected that Billy Lee secretly hoped Mila was his daughter, but there might be a problem.
Belle.
His mother could be judgmental as all get-out, and she might get mad at Billy Lee for having sex with Vita. If so, it could put a rift between not just Billy Lee and her but also between Belle and Mila.
Roman fired off a response to Billy Lee, thanking him for keeping him posted, and he added, Tell me the results before you give them to Mila.
That way, Roman could maybe set the stage for what was to come next—the beginning of a father-daughter relationship, or if Billy Lee wasn’t a match, moving on to the next step in the search for her father.
If Mila still wanted him to help with that.
He decided not to ask her. Not after getting “peachy” and smiley face responses to his texts. He’d just wait until he got back to Wrangler’s Creek tomorrow.
Roman glanced at the paperwork and then at the three pictures he kept on his desk. One was of Tate when he was actually smiling. A shot Roman had taken of him at a rodeo. The second picture was of Garrett, Sophie and him when they’d been teenagers. They were smiling, too, and acting goofy, which was exactly why he had the photo on his desk. Sometimes, he needed to remember that there had been happy times at the ranch. He tempered that happiness with the third photo.
The one of his horse, Lobo, that he’d found on his bed.
It was the picture his mom had left to make up for what his father had done. It definitely didn’t make up for it, but Roman smiled now, thinking about Lobo and the rides they’d had.
There was a knock at his door, and Joe stuck his head inside. “You’ve got a visitor. He’s got a name like a country music singer, but he looks like a barber. It’s Waylon Beaumont.”
Roman certainly hadn’t been expecting a visit from Arwen’s stepfather, but he motioned for Joe to send him in. About a minute later, the man appeared in his doorway. He’d known Waylon his whole life, but Roman couldn’t say he actually knew the man. In fact, he wasn’t even sure they’d ever spoken to each other. Apparently, though, they were about to speak now.
And Joe was right—the guy did look like a barber.
His hair had some kind of junk in it, and it was practically plastered to his head.
“This won’t take long,” Waylon said. He came closer to Roman’s desk, but he didn’t sit. “I brought my wife into town on a shopping trip, and I’ll need to be getting back to the mall soon. When I found out that your office was close by and that you were here today, I thought it’d be a good time for a visit.”
Roman wasn’t certain how Waylon had found out he’d be there, but it was possible he’d heard it from Arwen if Tate and Arwen were sharing that kind of info.
“What can I do for you?” Roman asked.
“You can keep your son away from my stepdaughter.”
All right. No mincing of words. Roman would have appreciated it more if this hadn’t been about Tate.
“Arwen’s messed up,” Waylon went on, “and she doesn’t need your boy messing her up any more than she already is.”
Roman didn’t stand, mainly because it would put him in too good of a position to punch this clown. “And how do you figure Tate’s making things worse for her?”
It was something Roman genuinely wanted to know. He wanted to know the reverse, as well—if Arwen was a bad influence on Tate.
“She sneaked over to your house,” Waylon explained. “She’s not supposed to go off anywhere without her half sister, Chrissy. Chrissy’s a year younger than Arwen, but she’s a hell of a lot smarter. And she doesn’t screw up the way Arwen keeps doing.”
Roman took a deep breath. “You think Tate coaxed Arwen into coming to the house?”
“I do. It wouldn’t have taken much coaxing, either. Arwen’s not very bright.”
Roman hardly knew the girl, but he felt the need to defend her. “She seemed plenty bright when I talked to her.”
Waylon’s shoulders went back. “When?”
“The day she was at the ranch. She was teaching Tate how to meditate to help him with his stress.”
“Meditation,” Waylon grumbled. He added some profanity. “That’s just a way of tuning us all out.”
Yeah. And after listening to Waylon, Roman could see why she wanted to do that. The guy was a dick.
“You shouldn’t want Arwen around your boy, either,” Waylon went on. “She’s only thirteen, and she’s already started sleeping around.”
Roman tried not to react to that, but he didn’t want Tate having sex yet. Sex complicated the hell out of things, and Tate already had enough complications in his life.
“You know for a fact that Arwen is ‘sleeping around’?” Roman asked.
“I haven’t caught her in the act if that’s what you mean, but just look at her. Her hair and all those piercings. She did that to herself with a needle.”
She was indeed a little holey, but Roman didn’t think it was extreme. Ditto for the hair color.
“So, if a girl has piercings and purple hair, she’s a slut?” Roman didn’t bother to take out the sarcasm.
“Who cares if she is or not—people will think that about her.”
“I didn’t.”
The look that passed between them said it all. Waylon thought Roman was a slut, too. In some ways, he was. Since it sometimes took one to know one, Roman was pretty sure Arwen didn’t fall anywhere near the slut category.
Obviously, Roman’s “I didn’t” response displeased Waylon because the man’s eyes narrowed. “She tried to kill herself. Slit her wrist. Now, I know your boy tried to kill himself, too, but common sense should tell you that these two shouldn’t be seeing each other.”
Roman heard every word, but he got mentally stuck on the first part of that.
She tried to kill herself.
Hell.
Now, he had to consider at least part of what Waylon was saying. If both Arwen and Tate were depressed and had each considered suicide separately, then maybe they’d consider it again—together.
“I’ll talk to Tate,” Roman finally said. “But I won’t order him to stay away from Arwen.” For one thing, it might not even be necessary, and for another, it might be like waving a red flag in front of a bull. Tate might continue to see the girl solely because Roman disapproved.
“Do that. I don’t want Arwen on the Granger ranch again.”
Roman probably should have just let the dick walk out, but two could play the dick game. “Did you ever fuck Vita Banchini?”
That stopped Waylon in his tracks, and he turned back around to face Roman. “What did you say?”
So, Roman repeated it word for word.
Maybe Waylon objected to the crude word. Or maybe just the question itself. Either way, he wasn’t pleased, and every tightly stretched muscle on his face proved that.
“What did Vita tell you?” Waylon snapped.
Now, Roman was doing some cursing. Not aimed at Waylon. But at himself for asking. If he hadn’t wanted to know the answer, he shouldn’t have brought it up, and Waylon’s response was an answer.
The man hadn’t denied it, and that said it all.
Great. Just great. He didn’t want this jackass to share any DNA with Mila. And maybe he didn’t. If Vita had slept with two guys, maybe she’d gone for his favorite number—three.
“What did Vita tell you?” Waylon repeated, his voice louder this go-around.
“Nothing.” That was the truth. “I just heard some things, that’s all.” That was the truth, too.
Sort of.
Roman had heard from Mila that Waylon was on her list as a potential father even though Waylon had been married at the time Vita had gotten pregnant.
Waylon aimed his index finger at Roman. “I don’t know what you heard, but I want to talk to whoever said it.”
It was petty, but Roman aimed his middle finger at Waylon and shot him the bird. The man cursed him and walked out.
Well, he’d successfully kept his badass title, but that wouldn’t help Mila if she needed to get a DNA sample from Waylon. It wouldn’t help Tate, either, but at least Roman could do something about that. Even though Tate would still be in school, he could leave him a message for his son to phone him back. But there was no need for a message because Tate answered on the first ring.
“Did she call you, too?” Tate asked before Roman could say anything.
Roman certainly hadn’t been prepared for that question, and his first thought was that the she was Mila. “Did who call me?”
“Mom.”
Roman hadn’t been prepared for that answer, either. “When?”
“Just now while I was on my lunch break.” He had no trouble hearing the excitement in Tate’s voice. “She’s coming, Dad. Mom’s coming to the ranch.”
Roman got up, and he grabbed his truck keys. “I’m on my way.”
* * *
MILA HAD ALREADY used an entire can of air freshener, and she might have to use more. The bookstore still smelled like beer and sex. She hoped that last one was only her imagination, but she wasn’t wrong about the beer. Maybe the smell would clear before Billy Lee and Belle showed up for their fantasy date in about two hours.
This wasn’t an especially hard fantasy to set up, which was partly why Mila had suggested it to Billy Lee. It also would give him a chance to flirt with Belle and maybe bring her a gift. Plus, the dress she’d managed to get for Belle was beautiful. Not a perfect match to the one Julia Roberts had worn in the movie Pretty Woman, but it was lipstick red and with enough of a shine to the fabric that it looked like silk.
Mila put a gold throw on the sofa and some glitzy pillows that she’d bought on sale years ago but had never used. She went back into her office to get some candles they could use for ambiance instead of the harsh overhead lights and the scripts she’d printed out, but before she could get back to the scene, the door opened.
She mentally cursed that she’d forgotten to lock it and was about to tell whoever it was that she had closed early.
But it was Arwen.
The girl glanced at the “decorated” reading area, then at the candles Mila had been reaching for on her desk. “Sorry, looks like you’re expecting someone or something.”
“It’s not for me.” But Mila decided that was all the explaining she should do. “Are you finished with school for the day?”
Arwen nodded. “I don’t have a sixth period so I’m allowed to leave. I’m not skipping or anything. I wanted to see if you had The Walking Dead volume ten, but if you’re closed—”
“No. I have it.” Mila motioned for Arwen to follow her to the graphic novel shelf because the girl looked ready to run. She also looked as if she could use a friend. Mila couldn’t qualify for that because she was so much older than Arwen, but she could be there if the girl wanted to talk.
“You look different,” Arwen told her. “Like you’re happy or something.”
Or something was closer to the truth. Mila doubted she was glowing from an orgasm she’d had three nights ago, but it was possible. She was also trying to figure out what to do about Roman. But that was a long debate she would have with herself later.
“Are you happy?” Mila asked her, and then winced. “Sorry. Not very subtle. It’s just you seem sad or something.”
“Mellow,” Arwen corrected. “Trust me, that’s better than some other things I could be.” She took the graphic novel from Mila when she pulled it from the shelf. “I won’t hurt Tate, you know. I know that’s what his dad and you are worried about, but I’m not going to talk him into doing anything stupid.”
“That’s good,” Mila assured her.
“Already done the stupid stuff,” Arwen added in a mumble. “It didn’t work out so great, and I won’t be doing it again.”
It hadn’t worked out so great for Tate, either, but Mila thought he was getting better. She’d been going out to the ranch in the evenings to check on him, and it seemed as if his surliness was easing up a bit.
Mila considered not charging Arwen for the book, but the girl took some money from her purse and went to the cash register. “Thanks for giving me a ride home that day,” Arwen told her. “And thanks for being nice to me.”
She wanted to hug Arwen, but that might be too much coming from someone she hardly knew. That’s why it surprised Mila when the girl hugged her. It didn’t last long, though, because the door opened again, and Sophie came in. Not exactly walking. More like waddling. Arwen broke away from Mila, took her book and the change, and she headed out.
“Wasn’t that the girl Tate’s been seeing?” Sophie asked.
Mila nodded. “I like her.”
“Good. My nephew has enough going on in his life without adding a troubled girlfriend.” She paused, glanced around at the fantasy date area. Then sniffed the air. “It smells like beer.” She turned toward Mila probably as fast as she was capable of turning. “You’ve been with Roman.”
Jeezum Pete. Was she wearing some kind of sign around her neck that others could see and she couldn’t? First Arwen had said she looked happy and now this.
“What does the smell of beer have to do with Roman?” Mila asked her.
“Well, you wouldn’t be drinking beer in here. You’d be sipping wine or Baileys. And I doubt you’d be with any other man. That leaves the obvious. Roman and you had sex in here.”
“No, we didn’t.” Mila didn’t like telling half-truths to her best friend, but she didn’t want to get into the details of oral sex and spilled beer.
Sophie stared at her as if ready to challenge that, but she must have gotten a cramp or something because she caught on to her back and hobbled her way to the sofa.
“Are you all right?” Mila asked, helping her to sit down.
“Fine. I just finished my OB appointment, and he said all is well in here, that it shouldn’t be much longer.” She patted her huge belly. Frowned. Then looked to be on the verge of tears. “I think I saw a penis.”
Okay. “Uh, where did you see that?” Because judging from Sophie’s reaction, it hadn’t been on Clay. Maybe someone had flashed her.
“On one of the babies when I was having an ultrasound.” Now, the tears came, and Mila hurried to get her a tissue.
Mila was willing to give all the comfort and tissues that Sophie needed, but she wasn’t understanding this. “Are you disappointed it’s a boy?”
“No. I’m just really disappointed I saw it, that’s all. And I’m hormonal. I cry at everything. The other day I cried because my pancake looked like a bunny.”
Mila had witnessed some of that, and she figured it was something like PMS on steroids. All she could do was keep hugging Sophie while she cried it out.
“I wanted to keep the genders a surprise,” Sophie went on. “I usually close my eyes, but this time I sneezed and then I looked at the screen. I’m pretty sure it was a penis complete with little balls and everything. Well, one ball, anyway. It was like a blob beneath this little missile-looking thing.”
Mila wished she could come up with an alternative suggestion, but she was drawing a blank. There weren’t many things on a baby’s body that could resemble a missile and a blob.
“Where was Clay during this?” Mila asked.
“He was there, but he didn’t sneeze or look at the screen so I pretended that I hadn’t seen it. I don’t think he believed me.”
Probably not. After all, Clay was a cop, but he likely hadn’t wanted to make Sophie feel worse.
“You only saw one penis, right?” Mila clarified, and waited for Sophie to nod. “That means you don’t know the gender of the other baby. That’ll still be a surprise.”
Sophie perked right up. That was the hormone reaction again because she was literally smiling through the tears. “You’re right. I don’t know, and if I need another ultrasound before I deliver, I’ll put on a blindfold.”
“Great idea.” At this point Mila would have concurred with anything to make Sophie feel better.
“So, did you have sex with Roman?” Sophie asked.
Mila groaned. Obviously, Sophie wasn’t going to drop the subject, but Mila was saved from answering because the door opened again. This time, however, it was someone expected even if he was a little early.
Billy Lee.
He was carrying a garment bag over his arm. Probably his tux, but he got a very uncomfortable look on his face when he saw Sophie. “Uh, I thought the fantasy date would be just Belle and me.”
“It will be.” Sophie tried to make a dismissive wave of her hand at the same time she tried to get up. Mila caught her around the waist to keep her from dropping back down. “Don’t worry, I’m going.” She went to the door but then stopped right next to Billy Lee. “Just make this work for Mom, please. She really needs to get her own life.”
Billy Lee made a sound of agreement. “I’ll try.” He glanced down at her belly. “Are you okay to drive?”
“Oh, I don’t fit behind the wheel anymore. I’m walking over to the police station and Clay and I can go home together.” She kissed Billy Lee on the cheek. “Have fun.”
“Is she okay?” Billy Lee asked after Sophie had left. “She looked as if she’d been crying.”
“She saw a penis on one of the babies in an ultrasound. She didn’t want to know the sex,” Mila added.
He nodded, glanced at the marginally decorated reading area and nodded again. His nerves were showing, and Mila didn’t know if that was because of the date or because he now knew that he could possibly be her father. When he didn’t say anything, she just motioned toward the bathroom.
“You can change in there,” she explained. “If Belle gets here before you finish, I’ll have her change in my office. Oh, and I’ve got champagne and music. The soundtrack is already loaded, and all you have to do is press the button on the old intercom on my desk.”
She tried to remember if there was anything she’d forgotten. And there was something. “Did you bring a necklace?”
He took out a box from his jacket and opened it. It was emeralds and gold. It definitely didn’t look like a fantasy prop.
“It’s real,” Billy Lee volunteered. “I thought it might make the fantasy better if it wasn’t fake.”
Well, it wouldn’t hurt. Unless Belle thought it was too much, that is.
“Roman wanted me to call him with the paternity test results,” Billy Lee said out of the blue. “He wanted me to tell him first, before you.”
She automatically frowned. Then shrugged. She doubted that Roman was doing that to hide anything from her. No. It was more likely that he just wanted to be there to help her process whatever she was feeling.
And maybe have sex with her.
But that last thought was just something she’d tacked on. Probably because she’d been thinking way too much about Roman and sex. Maybe he had, as well, because he had texted her twice.
“We could know as early as tomorrow,” Billy Lee went on. Then he paused. “I didn’t have a clue that you could be my daughter. I just figured if Vita had gotten pregnant, she would have let me know.”
You’d think that. But they were dealing with Vita here. “Maybe you’d started dating someone else by the time she found out.”
He made a sound to indicate that was possible but not likely. “It could be because things didn’t go so well between us.” He stopped again, groaned. “This is hard for me to talk about, but your mom and I just didn’t hit it off in bed. And that’s all I’m going to say about that.”
Good. Mila was sorry she’d heard that much. Still, bad sex shouldn’t have prevented Vita from telling him he was going to be a father. Which meant he might not be.
She took out her phone, pulled up the list of possibilities and showed it to Billy Lee. “If we’re not a match, who would be your guess as to who would be?”
He took her phone, looking through it, but instead of her reading the list, she watched his expression. It changed when he reached one of the names. Billy Lee made a sound, a barely audible sigh.
“Who?” she pressed.
“Waylon Beaumont.”
Of all the names on the list, that was the one Mila dreaded. Maybe because he seemed like a hard man. “You really think he’d sleep with my mother?”
He lifted his shoulder. “Roman and I talked about this the other day. It was a different time. All of us were young, and we made mistakes. And no, I’m not saying you were a mistake. I’d be proud to call you my daughter.”
Mila hadn’t expected that to hit her so hard, but just as Sophie had done earlier, tears sprang to her eyes. “And I’d be proud to call you my father,” she managed to say.
He pulled her into his arms, kissed the top of her head. This was exactly what she’d missed, and she hadn’t even realized it until now.
“Tell you what,” Billy Lee said, easing back and looking her in the eyes. “If you want, I can cancel the paternity test, and we can just assume that I’m the one who got Vita pregnant.”
It was a generous offer, and in the end it might cause her far less grief than learning the truth, but she had to shake her head. “Thank you, though.”
Billy Lee still had her phone when it rang, and she saw Tate’s name pop up on the screen. Mila automatically checked the time. School had probably just let out so it might mean that he had missed the bus and needed a ride.
She took the call, and the moment she heard Tate’s voice, Mila knew it wasn’t just a missed bus.
“Can you come to the school right now?” he asked, the anger running through every word. “There’s been some trouble.”