Twins For The Rebel Cowboy. Sasha Summers
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Название: Twins For The Rebel Cowboy
Автор: Sasha Summers
Издательство: HarperCollins
Жанр: Вестерны
isbn: 9781474047258
isbn:
When the stone was clean he sat, leaning against it as he turned his gaze back to the sky. “I need you to hear this from me.” He swallowed down some beer, easing the tightening of his throat. “Annabeth—” He broke off and took another sip. “I had no right to... I... She’s going to have a baby.” He cleared his throat again, the press of guilt and self-loathing all but choking him. “My baby...and I’ll do right by her.”
He paused, closing his eyes. “You know. You know how I felt about her.” He turned the bottle in his hands. “I’m not you, never will be. Cody’s always gonna know who you are and what kind of man you were.” He took another sip. “I’m hoping you’ll be okay with them being my family now.” He stared up, letting the howl of the wind fill the night.
“I’ll take care of them,” he promised softly. He meant it, wanted it, but had no idea where to start.
He sat there, ignoring the bitter cold, and finished his beer with his best friend.
“You’re sick?” Josie asked.
“Yep,” Annabeth lied, pulling everything from the last kitchen cabinet. She’d been cleaning since four this morning. Her brain wouldn’t turn off and she couldn’t sit still. As silly as it was, she’d hoped she and Ryder would be figuring this out together. Instead, she was grappling with what to do—on her own. Her neatly color-coded poster hadn’t offered much comfort this morning.
Instead of succumbing to a full-blown sob-fest, she’d busied herself. How many times had Grandma Flo told her a real lady never let her emotions run amuck? Best use that pent-up energy to do something. So all morning, she’d been doing. Specifically, cleaning. The tiny bathroom had been scrubbed, sterilized and organized. Her bright yellow kitchen smelled fresh, but she wouldn’t be done until each and every cabinet and shelf were orderly.
“Does this have anything to do with my wayward brother-in-law’s late-night visit?” Josie asked.
Annabeth dropped the can of peaches she’d been holding. “What... How...”
“Lola heard him—er, his bike.”
Ryder and that damn bike. “Dammit—”
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