The Convenient Cowboy. Heidi Hormel

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      “We need to be prepared for the possibility of a court examiner coming to the house. That person will expect a home where there isn’t swearing or yelling, and there are snacks and sit-down meals.”

      The antacids hadn’t touched the nausea or the burning in her stomach. “That’s not what we agreed to. I’ve got a life, you know.”

      “Obviously,” he said, glancing at her, “the judge will need to see a report clearly showing that, unlike my ex, I can provide a stable, loving home.”

      “There isn’t anything in the prenup about not swearing.”

      “In section four, paragraph six, I included a morality clause.”

      “A what?”

      “Morality clause. You know, no messing around with other men, no drinking—”

      “Well, slap me stupid, I didn’t know I’d hitched my wagon to a preacher’s.”

      “This is my son.”

      She’d seen a picture of the pale, frail little boy, wearing plaid pants and a sweater vest—nerdy anywhere, but in Arizona, his clothes were a billboard that said Kick Me. “Fine. No swearing. I’ll try, if the examiner ever comes.”

      “Get into the habit now.”

      “Whatever,” she said, sticking out her chin to show him that he couldn’t intimidate her. She swallowed hard. She never got carsick. Must be the air-conditioning blowing his unwelcome, but familiar, scent of leather, desert and black licorice into her face.

      * * *

      SPENCE GLANCED OVER, wondering where the sexy cowgirl he’d met at Payson’s wedding had gone. Today she looked rode hard and put away wet. They hadn’t married for keeps, but couldn’t she have pretended she cared that it was her wedding? Maybe the cowgirl-hobo look was a thing? On the other hand, he didn’t want to remember taking off the silky dress she’d worn to Payson’s wedding, revealing the lacy bra and panties... Nope...shouldn’t think about that night in her Phoenix motel room.

      Sleeping together wasn’t part of what they’d agreed to, no matter what had happened when they’d met. He wouldn’t tell his son about the Vegas wedding or about Olympia, unless he had to. Right now, Calvin was in his former in-laws’ custody. On the plus side—as if there could even be a plus side—Calvin could stay in the dark about having a stepmom. If his grandparents said anything, Spence would come up with a story that he hoped would hold up under Calvin’s questioning, which had become nearly as sharp as Spence’s own. It was hard not to feel proud of his son’s intelligence, even while it could be a huge pain in Spence’s butt.

      He pushed his son to the back of his mind because he had to deal with Olympia first by making her understand the importance of the marriage. Or maybe reiterate the importance. The one-hundred-page prenuptial contract explained the details, but he had the feeling that he needed to appeal to her emotions again. When they’d talked at his brother’s wedding, she’d been sympathetic. She’d hinted that her own childhood had been less than ideal, but she’d spoken of her youngest sister with a lot of affection and pride, telling him how the girl had gotten a full-ride scholarship, which had disappeared just a month later. Clearly, at times, her family exasperated her, but she loved them and felt responsible for their welfare. So when he’d come up with the crazy idea of a marriage to gain custody of Calvin, she’d immediately sprung to mind. He figured that she’d agree to all this for her sister. No matter what she said now about not wanting to meet Calvin or get too involved, she understood sacrifice and love for family.

      Spence looked at the passing sign. Hours to her ranch, where they’d live—a negotiating point she’d refused to give on. His brother, Payson, would have a good laugh at Spence living on a working ranch, not a prettily landscaped one like those their friends’ families had owned when they were growing up. Spence wore the trappings of a cowboy and drove an oversize truck because it was what his clients expected. Everyone assumed a native Arizonan like him was a cowboy, but he was a city boy through and through.

      He pulled in a deep breath, catching her oddly erotic scent of Granny Smith apples and smoky chipotle, before he put on his lawyer face. “You’ve laid out your expectations, but there are some points that will need further discussion. When we met, it was clear to me that you were committed to your family, your sisters. And I believe when I ‘proposed’ you said, ‘I’ll do anything to help my sister and keep my ranch afloat.’” Sounding like such a jerk might be the reason for all the lawyer jokes. On the other hand, he’d do whatever he had to do to keep his son.

      “I did not say that.”

      “It was implied.” He glanced over and saw her tabby cat–brown eyes narrow. She pushed back a strand of dark hair that had fallen from her stubby ponytail. Did she cut her hair herself?

      “I married you. That doesn’t automatically make me—”

      “I don’t make this request without reason, and it could easily be covered under the contingency clause in section ten, subsection D.”

      “I don’t like the sound of contingency clause.”

      “I told you to have an attorney look over the document.”

      “As if I have the money for that. The whole reason I even signed the da...darned thing was for the money.”

      “You did sign it, and there is a contingency clause.” Spence changed lanes and floored the truck, hoping to outrace this sinking feeling. He’d known that the marriage, the prenup contract and moving to the ranch had been desperation on his part... Hers, too. It wasn’t just the marriage that he needed. He hadn’t really made that clear during the negotiations. A lawyer tactic. He hadn’t lied, but she hadn’t asked, so... “As I said, we may have to submit to the court sending someone into our home to determine its suitability. My lawyer and I are also fighting for Calvin to have a chance to visit me while we negotiate for custody—”

      “Excuse me, but that was not in the agreement or in anything we discussed.”

      “The contingency clause—”

      “My a—” He glared at her. “Aunt Fanny. You told me that Calvin didn’t live with you. That was the whole reason for the wedding.”

      “Right. To get custody of my son. Didn’t you ever hear that possession is nine-tenths of the law, darlin’?”

      She clamped her mouth closed, barely moving her lips when she said, “I married you for the money. You said this wouldn’t be a real marriage. I’m holding you to that, lawyer boy.”

      He tightened his hands on the wheel and glared hard at the white SUV in front of them to stop himself from blurting out something he’d have to apologize for later. Why was he so annoyed that she didn’t want to be near his child? That was what he wanted. He didn’t want Calvin to think of her as a new mommy.

      “If,” he emphasized, “I’m granted a visit, maybe you could go stay with your family. You and he wouldn’t need to meet.” Had he overplayed his hand? He glanced sideways to gauge her annoyance, noticing the sharpness of her jaw. Had she lost weight? What words was she holding back? How the hell had things gotten so complicated? For maybe the first time in his life, he decided to keep his mouth shut.

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