CHAPTER TWENTY
IF ONE MORE person asked her if she was okay, Mila was going to scream. It had been going on for nearly two weeks now, and she was tired of it. Nearly every customer who’d come into the store had asked in some way or another. Her mother, too. And even Roman had texted her a couple of times to ask.
She’d sent Roman a Sure with a smiley face.
Mila had told her customers, “Of course. Why wouldn’t I be?” And then she’d looked at them as if daring them to bring up the fact that Valerie had left town again and now Roman was preparing to do the same. He wouldn’t be going to Valerie, but then he wouldn’t be staying in Wrangler’s Creek, either.
Roman hadn’t brought up their fantasy date in those texts, and she was sort of glad that he hadn’t. While she would have enjoyed one last night with him—even a nonsexual one—it was obvious he needed to focus on Tate. There was no telling what the boy was going through now that his mother had abandoned him again.
Mila had refrained from texting Tate to ask if he was okay. She knew just how irritating that could be. But she had sent him an email to let him know she’d gotten in the graphic novels he had wanted her to order. That way, she opened the door to communication if he wanted it.
He apparently hadn’t.
Tate had messaged back to say he was busy with finals and that he would be in soon. Soon hadn’t happened, though, since it’d been two weeks.
The bookstore door opened, and Mila immediately saw Sophie struggling to get it. That’s because she was trying to squeeze a double stroller through the narrow opening. Mila hurried to her and lifted the front so they could shift and wiggle the stroller inside. Despite all the shifting and wiggling, the twins stayed sound asleep.
“Did you know that boy babies pee in your face?” Sophie asked.
Well, at least Sophie hadn’t asked if Mila was okay. Mila shook her head.
“They do,” Sophie assured her. “You have to keep your mouth closed when you diaper them. When you burp them, too, because they’ll throw up in your mouth. But girl babies also do that.”
Sophie wasn’t making motherhood sound particularly fun, or sanitary, but Mila knew her friend was the happiest she’d ever been. The most exhausted, too, because Sophie immediately sprawled out on the reading sofa. Didn’t sit, but sprawled as if ready for a nap.
“I took the babies by the police station to see Clay,” Sophie explained. “I figured since I was out, that I’d stop by and say hello. Did you know it takes nearly an hour to get everything ready just to get the twins in the car? And then I had to stop along the road and nurse one of them.”
Mila had guessed the nursing part because from beneath Sophie’s shirt, she could tell that the cup to her nursing bra was undone, and her nipple was pressing against the fabric. Mila motioned for her to fix it, and Sophie mumbled some profanity.
“No wonder the Busby boys whistled at me when I walked by them. Apparently, they were noticing a different kind of twins than the ones in the stroller.”
“How are you, anyway?” Sophie asked, fixing her bra.
Mila frowned. Apparently, she hadn’t dodged that bullet, after all. So, she decided to tell Sophie everything she probably didn’t want to know. “Business is good. My mom and I have made peace with each other. I haven’t made peace with Waylon, though. And I’ve found a few interesting matches on a couple of the dating sites. I’m considering going out with one of them.”
Sophie sat up, stared at her. “Roman,” she spelled out. “Are you okay with what he’s doing?”
“You mean leaving? Yes, I heard Tate and he were moving back to San Antonio in a day or two.”
“Bet you didn’t hear it from him because he’s not talking about it. In fact, he’s back to his cranky self. Tate’s better, though. Roman said he would get him bronco riding lessons from some guy who works for him in the rodeo business.”
Mila wanted to blow out a breath of relief. That was good about Tate. Not so good about Roman. “Why is Roman cranky?”
Sophie flopped back down on the sofa. “He won’t say, of course, but I think it’s this whole fantasy date thing he’s planning. He knows this will probably be the last time he’ll get to play lover boy with you. Without any actual loving, that is.”
Mila heard every word Sophie said, but it was as if her mind was on some kind of time delay because it took several seconds to sink in. “Fantasy date?”
“Yes, you know the one you asked him to do with you. FYI, he sucks at planning, and you can thank me for nixing the first few ideas he came up with. The Godfather,” Sophie quickly supplied. “And Braveheart. But I think the only reason he wanted that one was so he could paint his face blue.”
Mila was still hearing every word, still having trouble absorbing it. “Roman’s planning a fantasy date?”
Sophie sat up again. Stared at her. “You didn’t ask him to do that?”
“I guess I did, but I just figured it was off since he hadn’t mentioned it.”
Sophie made a slight gasp, one that caused both babies to wake up and start fussing. “Crud. Maybe it was supposed to be a surprise. Please act surprised if he goes through with it.”
Mila wouldn’t have to act. She would be surprised. “Uh, is the date he’s planning...romantic? Because neither of those movies you mentioned scream romance.”
“Maybe to a guy they are.” At least, that’s what Mila thought she said. It was hard to hear with the babies crying now.
Sophie went to the stroller, scooped up one of them, and smiling, she showered some kisses on the baby’s face. Mila would have done the same to the second one if the door hadn’t opened, and Belle hadn’t waltzed in.
Literally.
The woman twirled around as though she were dancing when she came in, and in the same motion, she swooped in and picked up the other baby.
“Oh, my little darlings,” Belle said. “I’ve missed you.” She gave kisses to the baby she was holding and then kissed the other one.
“You saw them just an hour ago,” Sophie pointed out.
“An hour’s too long without some grandbaby sugar. Sorry I haven’t been by sooner,” Belle added to Mila. “But being a newlywed keeps me busy. These little snoogums do, too.”
“Mom has been babysitting some each day so I can nap,” Sophie explained.
“Billy Lee helps,” Belle added, motioning to the door where her husband was walking in. Judging from his big grin, it was obvious that marriage agreed with him. With Belle, as well.
Billy Lee hugged Sophie and the babies before going to her. He took her by the shoulders. “I got the DNA results back a while ago,” he whispered. And shook his head. “I’m sorry. I really wanted it to be me.”
“So did I.” She kissed his cheek. “But it’s okay.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Okay with Waylon being your father? Vita told me. She came by to see us yesterday to make sure there weren’t any ill feelings between Belle and her. She gave us an egg.”
“With some crap on it?” Mila asked.
He nodded. “She said it was a good thing, but I have my doubts.”
“She meant for it to be good. She gave me one, too.”
“And Clay,” Sophie added.
Mila hadn’t been sure Sophie had heard Billy Lee’s and her conversation, but obviously she had.
“I need to be going,” Sophie said, putting the baby back in the stroller. Belle did the same to the other one after she gave him a dozen more kisses.
Sophie also gave Mila a kiss on the cheek. “Are you sure you’re all right?”
For once, Mila didn’t mind the question. She nodded. “I am.” Not just with Billy Lee not being her father but with everything.
Well, she was mostly okay. But mostly okay was the story of her life.
“We’ll talk soon,” Sophie assured her, and she got busy hauling out the stroller. Billy Lee and Belle helped, and Mila stood at the window, watching them until they were out of sight.
She waited until she was certain they wouldn’t be back, and she locked the door and turned the sign to Closed. Mila definitely didn’t want anyone walking in on this conversation that she hoped she was about to have with Roman.
Mila pressed his number and heard it ring. But the ring sounded much closer than it should have. She soon figured out why.
Roman was at the door, and he was trying to get in. In fact, he was almost frantically motioning for her to open up. Mila did and came face-to-face with another surprise.
Roman in a suit.
She’d never seen him in anything but jeans so she had a few moments of stunned silence before he practically pushed his way inside.
“I didn’t want anyone to see me like this,” he said, “or they would have known something was up.” While he was locking the door and pulling down the blinds, he thrust a plastic bag at her. “Your costume.”
So, this was about the fantasy date, and since his face wasn’t blue, and he wasn’t wearing a kilt—too bad about that—he hadn’t gone with Braveheart. But she still couldn’t rule out The Godfather. Brando had worn plenty of suits in that movie.
She hoped there wasn’t a horse’s head in the bag.
“Uh, I wasn’t really expecting the fantasy date,” she told him.
He finished with the blinds, turned and looked at her. “It was your idea. And you said you wanted it to happen when Tate finished school. Well, he was exempt from a couple of his finals because he has good grades so he’s done.”
Talk about bittersweet. The good grades part pleased her, but Mila wasn’t counting on having to face this day until tomorrow.
“What I meant was I wasn’t expecting you to plan the date,” she explained.
He lifted his shoulder. “I thought it was something I could do for you.”
Roman didn’t add that it would be a nice way to say goodbye, but Mila was pretty sure that’s what he meant.
Yet another bittersweet moment.
She wanted to be with Roman, and having him plan this was not just a surprise, but it also made it even more special. The trick would be for her to enjoy it without thinking this would be the last time they’d be together like this. Oh, he would come back to Wrangler’s Creek, all right, but he’d already reached his three-count limit. That meant he’d stay friends with her.
Definitely bittersweet.
She smiled and looked in the bag to see what adventure he had planned. It wasn’t a horse’s head but rather a gray halter dress. The kind of dress you’d wear to a party.
“I had to order it,” he said. He took out his phone and turned on some music.
Both the music and the dress were suddenly very familiar. But what was confusing to her was the wad of yellow foamy-looking material at the bottom. Mila pulled it out and nearly screamed.
Because it was a fake snake.
She was certain her mouth was gaping when she turned back to him.
“I didn’t think you’d want me to spank you with an actual belt, and that was the only soft thing I could find.” Roman smiled. “Are you ready for a spanking, Anastasia?”
* * *
ROMAN FELT LIKE an idiot. A horny one.
Definitely not a good pairing for someone trying to hang on to his badass image.
Plus, he was wearing a monkey suit that felt as foreign to him as if he’d put on a tutu. It was too bad Mila’s fantasy hadn’t included some rodeo stuff, but she had mentioned the Fifty Shades of Grey scene when she’d first brought up this fantasy date idea.
“You actually did this for me?” Mila asked.
Her breathing was already a little too fast so maybe this was indeed some kind of turn-on for her. It was a turn-on for him, as well, but not because of the fantasy. His body just seemed to start firing on all cylinders whenever he was around Mila.
“I wanted to do something so you’d remember me,” he said.
She laughed, a short burst of air. “Trust me, I’ll remember you.”
He’d expected her to go into her office and change, but she didn’t. She shucked off her top right there and slipped out of her jeans. That sent his horniness up a significant notch.
She wasn’t wearing frilly underwear. It was plain white and cotton from the looks of it, but Mila still managed to make it look amazing. She slipped on the dress, and he got another dose of amazing. Mila didn’t give him time to savor the eye candy, though, because she took hold of his arm and led him to the reading sofa.
“Use your hand,” she said.
Because his mind was in the gutter, it took him a moment to realize she was talking about the actual spanking. He didn’t mind that. In fact, his hand was rather pleased about it. His dick was even more pleased when she lay belly-down across his lap. She hiked up the dress.
And pulled down her panties.
Of course, he’d expected some seminudity. He just hadn’t expected it to make him rock hard. Mila noticed, too, because she looked up at him and smiled. Not the kind of smile someone might have at the start of a roller coaster ride. This was more the look Mrs. Robinson had given in The Graduate.
He looked at that smile, then at her bare ass, and it occurred to him that this might be harder than he’d thought it would be. And no, he wasn’t talking about his dick now.
“I’ve never spanked anyone,” he confessed.
The smile stayed on her mouth. “Then it’ll be a first for both of us. If you like it, I can spank you.”
No, he’d pass on that. In the state his body was in, it wouldn’t take much for this to go from a spanking to a fucking. Something that couldn’t happen. Mila wanted a fantasy, no-sex date, and that’s what she was going to get. Mostly, anyway.
“I forgot the dialogue,” he told her.
“Improvise,” she said, her voice all soft and silky.
Actually, that soft and silky also described her butt. Roman ran his hand over her left butt cheek before he gave it a tap. Since it didn’t even make a sound, he tapped a little harder. And got a very nice reaction from Mila.
She made a slight gasp of pleasure.
So, he did it again, harder. But not too hard. After the first spank, he could see the general appeal of this. Not for his own sake, but because Mila definitely seemed to be getting some enjoyment from it. So he made things a little more interesting. Roman moved her legs apart, lifted her hips and landed the next one at the very bottom of her butt cheeks.
A much louder sound of pleasure from Mila.
So, he did it again.
This was more like a glorified hand job, and while it wasn’t supposed to get sexual, Roman didn’t think Mila would mind if they did this for a while longer. Just short of an orgasm, of course, because that would be sex. After that, he could leave and find a tub of ice to jump into because he was going to need some way to cool down.
But Mila didn’t let it reach the orgasm stage.
She got up onto her knees and unzipped him.
“Uh, this isn’t part of the fantasy,” he managed to say.
“I’m improvising. We can’t have sex because of your rule, but the first time we were together, it was just half sex since only I climaxed. So, that means I can do this, and it’ll be the other half.”
This was a blow job.
Roman was about to tell Mila that he didn’t think it was a good idea, but after she took him in her mouth, he forgot all about what he intended to say. Hell, he forgot how to talk.
She wasn’t very good at this, but it didn’t matter. He was already so primed and ready that her breath alone probably could have gotten him off. Roman just sat back and let her take care of finishing that half portion of his man-rule.
All in all, there was a lot to be said for this fantasy date stuff.
* * *
“WELL?” MILA ASKED HIM.
Roman was still coming back down to planet earth, and his head was still in the clouds, so he wasn’t sure what Mila was asking. He hoped it involved doing to her what she’d just done to him.
But apparently not.
She got off the sofa, pulling up her panties and shoving the dress back down. Since Roman didn’t want to sit there with his dick hanging out, he zipped up and waited to see if she would give him a little more info so he could answer that vague question. Maybe it wouldn’t involve her getting sad.
“I learned how to do that from an internet article I read,” she finally said. She tipped her head to his crotch. “In this case, I thought the act was better than the article. How about you?”
He had to smile. “Much, much better.” Of course, he would have liked to have been around when she was reading how to do that. “Were there pictures?”
“Yes, but I didn’t look at those.” She laughed, and mercy, it was good to hear that.
Roman felt as if he was walking on eggshells around Mila. On the one hand, it was fun to be with her, but that fun was about to end. He would see her, of course, whenever he came to town, but he didn’t want her for a sex-buddy. No. She deserved better than that.
And she’d probably get it.
According to Belle, Mila was definitely looking into the regular dating sites again. The ones that would lead to real dates and not what he’d been giving her. Half sex, sex, sex and a spanking.
He stood, not having a clue what to say, but Mila even took care of that for him.
“Thanks,” she said. “You certainly gave me a spring fling to remember.”
Spring fling. So, that’s what it was. A better label than three-fucks.
Roman went to her, kissed her, and he might have lingered longer if she hadn’t stepped back. And she smiled again. The smile didn’t look as if she’d had to scrounge it up, either, like the one he gave her in return.
“I need to freshen up,” she added. “I’m having dinner with my mom. Pray for me.”
It didn’t have a “don’t let the door hit you in the butt on your way out” ring to it, but it was close. No more kisses. No more sex. And Mila seemed just fine with that. He supposed he’d dodged a bullet by not breaking her heart.
She unlocked the door for him and closed it just as soon as he was out. He didn’t hear her lock it, but he did hear her footsteps so maybe she was heading to the bathroom to freshen up. Roman didn’t want to stand around on Main Street in a suit so he started for his truck that he’d left in the small side parking lot of the bookstore. The second he rounded the corner of the building, though, he saw someone.
Tate.
He was leaning against Roman’s truck, his backpack at his feet, and his son was sporting a scowl that was even scowl-ier than usual.
“Anything go wrong at school?” Roman immediately asked him.
He shook his head. “I didn’t have class. I only had to get the stuff out of my locker.”
Hell, he hoped Chrissy hadn’t left a parting gift, one that had put Tate in his mood. Of course, Tate was a master at bad moods, but just lately things had gotten a lot better.
“Get in and I’ll give you a ride to the ranch,” Roman said, unlocking the truck with his remote key.
But Tate didn’t budge. “You were with Mila, weren’t you?”
Roman glanced down at the suit, and judging from the fact that Tate had probably seen the blinds down and the closed sign, his son hadn’t had any trouble coming up with the obvious.
“Yeah,” Roman admitted.
Tate mumbled something Roman didn’t catch, but it sounded like cussing, and Tate started to walk away. Roman stepped in front of him.
“Why the attitude?” Roman asked. But then it occurred to him that Tate might have some kind of crush on Mila. Weird, though, because he always seemed to think of her as an aunt.
“You know why.” Tate did more of that cussing-mumbling. “You’ll hurt her. She’s not used to guys like you.”
Roman felt as if Tate had slugged him. “And what type of guy is that?”
“You hook up with women, and then you walk away from them. Just like you’re doing now. Some of those women want you to walk away, but Mila’s not like that. She doesn’t leave you dirty messages on the phone or put love bites on your neck.”
If this hadn’t been such a serious conversation, Roman would have pointed out that Mila was very capable of both those things. But Tate was right.
She wouldn’t do that.
Because Mila knew that he wouldn’t want to have a flashing neon sign that they’d been together. Not just for the sake of minimizing gossip but because of Tate. She loved his son and cared what happened to him.
“Mila told you she was in love with you,” Tate went on. “I heard it that day we were at the grocery store when Mr. Beaumont was being so mean to her.”
“I don’t think she meant it. I think she was trying to make a point.” And stop him from punching Waylon.
“She meant it,” Tate insisted. “And you should have stayed away from her so it’d be easier for her to get over you. But you didn’t. You dressed up like that and came here to have sex with her.”
“A fantasy date,” Roman corrected. If it hadn’t been for the blow job, he could have told Tate that nothing had happened. But it would be a lie by anyone’s standards. “It’s just something Mila wanted to do before I left.”
“She wanted to do it because it was with you. Sheez, are you an idiot or something?”
That didn’t feel so much like a punch as it did a slap meant to piss him off. And it worked. Roman got pissed.
“Mila is fine,” he told Tate, though his jaw was tight, making it hard to speak. “She’s the one who told me to leave.”
Speaking of jaws, Tate’s tightened, too. “I don’t believe you.”
“Fine, then I’ll show you.” Roman took him by the arm and marched him to the front of the bookstore. Of course, they were drawing attention, and now there’d be more gossip, but Roman didn’t give a flying fig about that. He only wanted to show Tate that he wasn’t the asshole that his son apparently thought he was.
Roman threw open the door before he considered that Mila might be changing out of the halter dress. But she was fully clothed. Clothed and sitting at her desk. When she lifted her head, though, Roman saw something he definitely hadn’t wanted to see.
Tears.
Mila wasn’t just crying. She was sobbing.
“Told you,” Tate snarled. “I knew you’d break her heart.” He bolted out of Roman’s grip and started running.
“Go get him,” she insisted. She stood and motioned for him to go. “I’m fine.”
He didn’t believe her, but Tate wasn’t fine, either. Right now, his son needed him more than Mila did so Roman took off after him. Even over the sound of his own footsteps, Roman heard her lock the door behind him.