Читать книгу Colton's Surprise Heir - Addison Fox - Страница 11

Chapter 4

Ethan busied himself with a series of mundane chores, the act of mucking stalls and working through several small fix-it projects designed to keep his mind off the woman currently taking a nap several hundred yards away in his house. It was only when he hammered the last nail into a sagging door frame that he finally admitted the truth.

He’d failed miserably.

His mind was full of Lizzie, and no amount of physical labor had removed her from the center of his thoughts. He even had a bruise on his knuckles from when he wasn’t paying attention to prove it.

Although he was far from comfortable with it, he was beginning to get used to the idea of being a father. What he hadn’t quite conquered was the bone-shuddering need that had swept through him at the sight of his child’s mother.

She was pregnant, for heaven’s sake. He shouldn’t be looking at her as if he wanted to devour her. She deserved his respect. And gentleness. And a man who wasn’t thinking about long sultry nights wrapped up in each other.

He’d have thought the sight of her pregnant belly would take his mind off the sensual thoughts. So it was more than a little unsettling to realize her softly rounded stomach drew out the need to protect as well as a base sexuality he’d never have imagined.

She was carrying his baby.

Tossing his hammer into his toolbox, Ethan let out a low curse and went to check on Dream. He might have no clue how to deal with a woman—or the sea of emotions one woman in particular managed to whip up—but he knew what to do with animals. Quiet and more than willing to share their affection, with them he always knew where he stood.

Dream nudged his shoulder the moment he was within distance of her stall, her sweet head bump going a long way toward uncoiling the tension wrapping his shoulders. “You want out for a walk, baby?”

Anticipation lit her dark eyes, and Ethan made quick work of her lead. In moments, he had her in the paddock, watching as she pranced in happy circles. He briefly thought about calling the doctor to confirm she wouldn’t injure her foal, but knew he was being overly cautious. Doc Peters had said Dream could resume regular activity. In fact, he’d made it an imperative.

So he trusted the animal knew what was best for her and stood back to watch.

The late afternoon quiet wrapped around him. Several hands had the other horses out, exercising and riding the land, while another crew had gone out to mend a patch of fence. He’d wanted to go with them—knew he should be with them—but he found himself loath to go too far from the house.

Roiling emotions aside, he couldn’t shake the fear that something terrible was hovering out there, waiting for them. He cursed again and fought to keep his focus firmly on fact. He’d spent his childhood living in fear, and the moment he had some control over his life, he’d sworn off continuing to live that way. He would handle this.

Whatever this was.

He had means. And he had a damn good head on his shoulders. If neither worked, he had a loaded shotgun in his closet that could help seal the deal.

At the image of the gun, Ethan quickly made a mental note to purchase a gun safe. There was no way he was keeping an unlocked gun around a small child. One who would be in his house all too soon.

“Those are some heavy thoughts.”

Ethan turned at the soft words and came face-to-face with Lizzie. The afternoon sun had warmed things and she stood there in her sweatshirt and an old vest he kept hanging in his mudroom. The image of her in his things shot another arrow of need through him, and he turned toward the paddock and away from the tempting sight. “Just giving Dream a run. She needed some fresh air.”

Lizzie took a spot next to him on the rail, her booted foot propped up on the bottom rung. Color ran high on her cheeks as she pointed toward the far side of the ring. “She looks well.”

“Doc Peters is amazing.”

“He may be, but it looks like you’ve got a pretty amazing horse, too.”

Ethan felt the scrutiny—Lizzie wasn’t subtle—and marveled at the frank honesty. Even when she was a small child, she’d had that gaze. Bright green eyes that could size you up and tease you in one fell swoop.

Unwilling to keep his gaze diverted, he turned to stare into the familiar. And had to admit the wide-eyed innocence of the child had given way to the knowledge of a grown woman.

“Dream’s perfect.”

“You always wanted a barn full of horses. I remember how you used to talk of the ranch you’d have. I could see it, too.” Lizzie stepped back from the paddock rail and turned slowly, making a full circle, before she turned back toward him. “It’s just as you’d said it would be.”

“I knew what I wanted.”

“Yes, you did. And now you have it. That must be satisfying.”

Satisfying, yes. But a bit empty.

The thought caught him completely unaware, and Ethan scrambled to reorganize the odd impressions swirling through his mind.

Empty? When had that idea settled in and taken root?

Even as the confusion whirled around in his thoughts like a dust storm, Ethan knew. That weekend after he and Lizzie had shared time at the rodeo, he’d walked the land and wondered why the vastness he’d always welcomed suddenly seemed oppressive.

The ranch was his. This corner of Texas, so open and wide, had become his own. He’d put every ounce of himself into the place since he was nineteen. First as a hand, then as foreman and then—finally—as his own after his old boss wanted out of the business.

The ranch was his life. It was as much a part of him as his heart and soul.

So when had it stopped being enough?

“Ethan?”

“Sorry. Long day.”

She let his polite lie pass and turned back to the paddock. “I’ll give her credit. She certainly has more energy than I do.”

“Are you okay?” He had one hand on her back and the other covering her hand before he could even think to check his movements. “Do you need to lie down?”

Her shoulders stiffened beneath his hands before relaxing, and she moved a heartbeat closer. “I’m fine. I just tire easier, even with an afternoon spent lazing around like a cat.”

“The benefit of moving on four legs instead of two?”

Lizzie laughed at that, her smile wide and open. “Maybe that’s it.”

“You’ve had a lot on your mind.”

Those delicate shoulders stiffened once more and he cursed himself for bringing such unpleasantness into their conversation.

“Yes. I have.”

“Well, one thing to take off it is me.”

Her gaze changed, shifted. The bright smile she’d worn while watching Dream was nowhere in evidence. “How so?”

“This is my child. You have my commitment that I will help you and stand by you. Both.”

“That’s comforting.”

“It’s fact. You won’t face this alone. I will be a father to my child.”

* * *

Lizzie pushed on a bright smile and ignored the pain that drummed against her heart with all the finesse of a blunt instrument.

Ethan Colton would be an amazing father to their child.

And that was all he’d be.

Shake it off, Lizzie girl. Shake it off.

The fantasy she’d warned herself against over the past six months—ever since that night at the rodeo—curled against the corners of her mind with reaching fingers. Although she knew it for the emotional foolishness it was, that small, hopeful piece of her had wondered if there could be more with Ethan.

With her gaze on the horse, she kept her voice level. “That’s a lot to take on. Especially with all the issues I’m having back at home.”

“Issues we’ll face together.” She sensed him before she felt him, the light press of his fingers against her shoulder drawing her attention. “Lizzie. I mean it. You’re not alone.”

“I’m always alone.”

The words were out before she could censor them. She hated playing the abandonment card—it suggested a weakness she refused to feel. She was proud of how hard she’d worked to overcome her childhood so she could focus on a bright future full of love and laughter.

So why was it so easy to drift back to that place?

The therapist she’d found after she started at the bank had been gentle, urging her to put voice to the feelings she’d lived with her whole life instead of keeping them locked inside. How humbling, then, to realize just how easy it was to regress.

He lifted his hand from her shoulder, but instead of breaking contact, he moved his fingers lightly over the length of her arm, coming to rest just above her wrist. Although she’d believed her sweatshirt was warm enough to battle the February afternoon chill, she’d had no idea the movement of the worn cotton over her skin could feel so sensual. So erotic.

She’d read the pregnancy books and knew her hormones were to blame for the immediate response to his touch, but deep down Lizzie wondered if it was something more.

Something that went far deeper than she’d admit, even to herself.

“I can only imagine how scared you’ve been, but we’ll get to the bottom of it. No one’s going to hurt you.”

Except you.

She laid her hand over his and gave in to the urge to look at him. Really look at him. Although the afternoon was comfortable, a light wind had filled his cheeks with ruddy color. The pinkish-red hue was a match for his lips, the firm, strong lines of his mouth drawing her attention.

He was a beautiful man, almost startlingly so, with thick lips and a firm jawline she itched to trace. To soften. He rarely smiled, instead facing the world with a stoic facade that tugged at something deep inside her.

It had always been that way, even when they were young. He’d seen so much—had lived with the image of finding his dead mother—and it sat heavy on his shoulders.

Lizzie knew what an impact parents had on their children—whether present or not—but Ethan’s life had been defined by his parents even more than most. Yet even with those ghosts—or demons, as a more apt description of Matthew Colton—Ethan had still made something of himself.

He was so strong. Capable. And so quintessentially male. Thick with muscle, he appeared comfortable in a body that was used to hard work and long days. But it was his face. Long lashes that were a dusty goldish brown framed those rich hazel eyes that had seen so much. There was a haunted quality to Ethan Colton, and she had no idea if he even realized it.

Shadows lurked in those hazel depths, and she desperately wanted to be the one to chase them away.

The hand that covered her forearm tightened, and Lizzie became conscious of the seconds ticking by. Of the sound of their breathing, rising in tempo, matched in rhythm. She couldn’t want this. She had her child to think of, and he or she needed to be her full focus right now.

But heaven help her, she couldn’t look away.

And then there was no choice as Ethan lowered his head, his mouth barely touching hers. Her breath lodged in her chest as her entire body went still.

Did she dare?

And then her arms were around his neck and she couldn’t have pulled away if the barn had risen in flames behind them.

Ethan’s hands shifted to her hips, turning her fully from the fence rails to stand flush against his body. Their child pressed between them, a vivid, tangible reminder that they’d created life.

The past months faded away as his lips met hers. Every ounce of pent-up longing and need seemed to shudder through her as Lizzie gave herself over to the moment. The man she’d dreamed of through more years than she wanted to count was here.

And she was in his arms.

A soft sigh drifted up her throat, the unconscious exhalation an interpretation of all that was in her heart. That sigh seemed to say: Finally.

His tongue met the barrier of her lips and she opened for him, the act of possession unmistakable as he slipped inside. His fingers clutched at her hips, pulling her even more tightly against him, and even with their child between them, she could feel the need that tightened his body with the same driving force that consumed her.

Lizzie lost all sense of her surroundings as her world narrowed and expanded all at once. All she could feel was Ethan. All she could think was Ethan.

All she wanted was Ethan.

The boy she remembered had become a hard man, tough and strong, his body as unyielding as the land that was his.

Yet just like the vivid blooms that found a way to flourish, even in the hardest earth, Ethan had made something of himself. Had followed his dream and his love of animals to create a life for himself.

A home.

Lizzie clung to him a bit tighter, allowing him to deepen the kiss even further, as one thought thundered louder than all else.

She wanted that home with him.

It was that truth that finally had her pulling away. With determined steps, she tore herself away from the only force on earth that made her forget herself.

“Lizzie—” His lips were wet, his hazel eyes almost black with the heavy dilation of his pupils as he stared at her.

“I—” She broke off, the question in his eyes almost powerful enough to have her moving right back into those strong arms.

Almost.

The baby chose that moment to kick, the swift punch of a tiny foot under her rib cage enough to break her fully out of Ethan’s thrall. Her hands went to her stomach, and she winced as their child aimed one more field goal toward her ribs.

“What is it?”

“It must be three o’clock.”

“What? Why?”

“The baby’s active. He starts like clockwork every day at the same time.”

“He?”

She offered up a rueful smile. “Yesterday I called it a she all day. I trade off every day.”

His gaze drifted down over her stomach, and she saw something cross his face before he took a firm step back.

“What is it?”

“I... I mean, do you mind if I—” He extended a hand, and she gripped his palm firmly in hers before he gave himself a chance to pull away.

Shifting away the material of his thick vest, she placed Ethan’s hand high over her abdomen and was rewarded with another kick. His fingers flexed against her skin, the wide press of his palm nearly covering half the width of her as a look of sheer awe had his mouth widening into a smile.

“I think we’ve got a UT football scholarship in our future.” He tightened his hand once more as the baby shot out another foot jab. “Feel that kick.”

“Or a Rockette.” She smiled as the image of thick football pads faded into a sequined dance outfit. Lizzie knew their comments were steeped in society’s views on girls and boys, and she’d had several months to admit to herself she wasn’t fully immune to the ingrained pull of baby culture. Everything she looked at in the stores was pink or blue, a wave of color determined to stamp identity from the very earliest age.

Conscious of that, she couldn’t resist poking at whatever image had settled in Ethan’s mind. “Maybe we’ll have the first girl kicker at UT.”

He smiled down at her. “Or a cowboy–slash–ballet dancer who wows them on the New York stage.”

She welcomed her child’s interests, whatever they might be, but hadn’t realized how relieved she was to hear his unspoken agreement. “You’d be okay with that?”

“My child can be whatever he or she wants to be. I’ll be proud.” His hand cradled her stomach as his gaze settled on hers, intense and unwavering. “Always.”

Lizzie nodded, not sure what to say. She’d thought to tease out any inherent bias and instead had her game turned on her in the most impactful of ways. While she had no doubt Ethan Colton would be an amazing father, to actually hear the pride that already filled his voice left her with the insane urge to start bawling right there in the middle of his ranch.

Unwilling to analyze those emotions too closely, she closed them up and vowed not to take them back out until she was alone. She already knew her attraction to Ethan hovered way too close to the surface. She did not need to add hormones and the urge to weep every five minutes to her list of emotional sins where Ethan Colton was concerned.

He removed his hand from her stomach, a gentle reluctance painting his features before he put a few additional steps between them. He shifted on the balls of his feet, his gaze drifting out over the paddock. The fierce conviction that had painted his features as he made promises for their child’s future faded as his gaze followed Dream’s easy progression around the practice ring.

Their quiet moments drifted off on the light afternoon breeze. The strong, gentle man who had been so present and in the moment with her had gone, leaving the hard, stoic face he showed the world standing in his place.

Lizzie wanted to bring that other Ethan back—wanted to pull him away from the cloud of memories that seemed to perpetually hang around him, no matter what the situation—but she kept her distance.

It wasn’t her place.

And while it nearly killed her to acknowledge that fact, carrying his child didn’t change anything. She and Ethan Colton didn’t have a relationship. For her own emotional protection, she’d do well to remember that a baby couldn’t banish the demons he carried inside.

“There are storm clouds in your eyes, Lizzie.”

The quiet observation pulled her from her own thoughts, and she stared up at him. The questions in her mind fought to come to light, but she held them back, offering up a small shrug instead.

“It’s nothing but a trick of the light.”

* * *

The woman stood in the distance and stared at Ethan Colton and Lizzie Conner. Damn stubborn fools. It didn’t take the high-powered binoculars in her hand to see the connection that snapped between them like Texas heat lightning.

What would it be like to be filled with an attraction that intense? The thought filled her with a shot of something so powerful her knees actually trembled from the force.

And now there would be a baby.

The first Colton grandchild.

Matthew would be beside himself when he found out. Despite his absolute inability to control the horrible urges that lived beneath his skin, he valued family above all else. It shaped him, like clay molded from the earth, and had driven his every action since childhood.

He even attributed his need to kill to his family.

The terrible jealousy Matthew had felt for Big J Colton had driven him down the darkest and most twisted path a human could travel. His need to kill—or maybe it was simply the excuse he’d settled on—had all been tied to the brother who’d never loved him or cared for him.

And it was a legacy that haunted them all.