The Bull Rider's Twins Page 8

  She took a deep breath. She really didn’t need to be “taken care of,” as nice as Sidney was trying to be. She’d always taken care of herself just fine. What she really wanted was a father for her babies, a name for them to own, so that they wouldn’t grow up wondering why they’d had no daddy.

  But she hadn’t counted on Judah being so determined to be a father. He was Mr. Footloose, Mr. Don’t-Tie-Me-Down.

  The huge diamond he’d bought her almost made her change her opinion of him.

  Almost.

  She owed it to the children to find out. “I think,” Darla said softly, “maybe I’d better wait and see how this turns out, Sidney.” She looked at him. “I’m so sorry. I hope you can forgive me.”

  He shrugged. “Nothing to forgive. I completely understand. It’s why I came out tonight.”

  She nodded. “You’re a good doctor. And a good man.”

  “I know,” he said, standing. “You’ve heard that good guys always win, haven’t you?”

  She smiled. “It’s true. You’ll win.”

  He pressed a gentle kiss against her knuckles. “I have half a mind to go in there and tell Judah that I lied about his concussion.”

  She blinked. “You did?”

  “I said I thought he had one. I felt it was important to get him off the road. The hospital never really found anything, either. They just told him he needed rest. He ran with the advice—quickly, I might add, right to your door.” Sidney glanced toward the bedroom. “Part of me wants to go in there and tell him we’ve decided to elope tonight, and would he mind keeping an eye on the house while we’re gone.” He grinned at Darla. “What do you think he’d say?”

  “I don’t know,” she answered.

  “I do.” Sidney smiled at her, tipped his hat and left. She listened as his truck gunned to life and he drove away.

  Then she went to her bedroom, opening the door abruptly just in case Judah did have his ear pressed tight to it. She fully intended to smack him a good one for being so nosy.

  But he was asleep in her bed—nude, judging by the pile of clothes on the floor. And obviously not worried one bit by what was transpiring in the other room.

  It stung. He could have been pacing a little at least.

  All he really wanted was to be a bad-ass. And it wasn’t going to work with her.

  But here they were, bound together. She placed a hand on her belly.

  Her babies’ father was sleeping blissfully, unconcerned that he did not love their mother. But he would do his duty, just like any of the Callahans would.

  There was only one option that would solve their dilemma.

  Chapter Eight

  Dear Judah,

  You and I aren’t in love. You want to get married because of the babies, but I have a proposal of my own for you. Let’s agree to stay together until after the twins are born, and then we’ll reevaluate the situation. That’s the best deal I can come up with right now, because I really don’t think we’re meant for each other as married partners. But we’ll try it your way for the sake of the children, if only temporarily. If you agree to a divorce after the babies are born, I’ll be at the altar in two days, ready to say I do.

  Darla

  She put the letter in an envelope, decided to leave it on the kitchen counter where Judah would easily find it. She laid his beautiful ring beside the letter. The diamond caught the light from the overhead hanging fixture, sending prisms dancing over the counter. Her breath caught just looking at it. A princess would wear such a lovely ring.

  She was not a princess. She was an unwed mother with a scoundrel for a one-night-stand daddy. “Oh, boy,” she murmured, and closed her eyes for a moment. Did she really want to be married only until the children were born? It sounded so prenup, so planned.

  At least she was giving him the freedom to leave. And for the sake of her pride, she had to know that he had an escape hatch built in to their agreement. She felt tears pool behind her eyes, told herself she’d spent far too much time staring at dreamy white gowns. She’d gone from a no-nonsense nurse to a woman who dreamed fairy-tale dreams—and it hurt.

  Strong arms closed around her, making her jump. Warm lips pressed to the back of her neck, sending sizzles zipping along her skin.

  “Is that a Dear John letter you’re leaving me?” Judah asked against her nape, and Darla closed her eyes.

  “Not exactly.” His hard body pressed against her and her knees went weak. “Please tell me you’re wearing something.”

  He kissed the side of her neck. “I think you’d be very disappointed if I was wearing clothes, Darla. You don’t have to pretend you’re a straight-laced nurse who’ll read me the riot act for making a pass at you. Although if I was one of your patients, I definitely would have tried—”

  “Judah,” Darla said, unable to think about where he was going with that while he was driving her out of her mind with kisses. “I could have a better conversation with you if you weren’t nude.”

  “I don’t want to chitchat, doll. I want to hold you and make you scream like a wildcat. Which I know you can do very well.” He nipped her shoulder lightly, then ran a tongue over the spot he’d bitten. “The question is, are Dear John letters supposed to be written on pink stationary with a purple pen? It seems to send a romantic signal, dressing it up like that. Black and white would be a lot more impersonal for bad news, I would think. But I wouldn’t know,” he added, his voice husky. “I have to admit no lady of my acquaintance has ever tried to write me off.”

  “I’m sure.” Darla didn’t dare turn around. He was rascal enough to not have a stitch on, and she didn’t want to see his firm, well-muscled body. She wasn’t strong enough to deny herself a naked Judah whose body was carved by a master sculptor.

  “Where’s the good doc?” he asked, his breath warm against her neck, tickling the tiny hairs at her nape. “Not trusting me alone with the treasure, is he?”

  “Judah, I’m not treasure. And yes, Sidney would trust me. Totally.”

  “I guess he was trusting you when you sneaked into my room that night?”

  She swallowed. “Sidney…Sidney and I aren’t getting married anymore. So quit bothering me about him. And please put something on! And leave. I want you to leave.”

  He took the envelope from her fingers. “Is that what this says? Go away, big bad wolf, and never come back?”

  She didn’t nod, because she hadn’t written anything of the sort. Now she felt foolish for what she had written. Why hadn’t she realized how unwise it was to try to bargain with a devil? She tried to snatch the envelope away from him, but Judah eluded her easily.

  “Ah,” he said, running the envelope down her back so it rasped along her zipper, “you don’t want me to read something that has my name on it? I find that strange, Darla Cameron. And one thing you usually aren’t is strange.”

  “Judah, there is a robe in my closet. If you’ll at least put on a robe, we can have an adult conversation.”

  “Now, my love,” he said, kissing the shell of her ear, “being an adult is one thing no one’s ever accused me of. Besides, I like your backside so much. I remember it fondly.”

  She closed her eyes, wishing she wasn’t pressed against the kitchen counter. He’d teased her enough, she decided. She was going to turn around, was going to face this strong, naked man and tell him she’d changed her mind. She just wanted her letter back, and to give up her unwise attempt at taming this lion.

  She was melting, knowing full well what wonderful pleasures lay in store for her if she just gave in. She couldn’t.

  Whirling around, she kept her eyes forcefully averted from the masculine glory. “Judah, give me back that envelope right now.” Her gaze ran the length of him in astonishment. “You’re not naked! You’re fully dressed!”

  “Disappointed?” he asked, grinning as he stole a kiss. “Sorry about that, babe, but I’ve got to go. Duty calls back at the ranch. Sleep well.” He waved the envelope at her before tucking it in his shi
rt pocket. “I’ll save this for my nightly bedtime reading. I’m sure it’ll prove to be interesting, even fascinating. I never expected a letter from my lady.” He winked at her, so devil-may-care it was maddening.

  “I want it back!”

  “Ah, no. I bid you good night. I would stay, sugar, but at this hour, I’m afraid I only have one thing on my mind. And I’m sure you know what that is.” He stole another kiss and departed, leaving Darla lathered up and pink-cheeked.

  She spun around and saw that the ring was still there, sparkling on the counter. He knew she wanted it. He knew it tempted her. He knew he tempted her.

  In fact, she was drowning in temptation.

  There was nothing she wanted to do more than run after him and beg him to come back, spend the night with her, make love to her. He probably knew that about her, too. He’d so shamelessly teased her about his nudity, making her think about him naked, making her remember. Oh, he was baiting her, and it was working.

  She didn’t know how she was going to sleep tonight.

  “WELL, IF IT ISN’T Roughriding Romeo,” Sam said when Judah dragged himself into the bunkhouse well after midnight. “Mr. Danger himself.”

  “Glad you made it home, bro. I figured you would.” Judah hung his hat on the hook in the mudroom and looked at his brothers in front of the fireplace. Jonas, Rafe and Sam stared at him with raised brows and expectant expressions.

  “So, did you find any danger?” Sam asked.

  “Nope,” Judah said, “nothing but lambs and cotton candy in my world.”

  “What’s that pink thing poking out of your shirt?” Jonas asked.

  “This,” Judah said proudly, “is my first Dear John letter.”

  “Nothing to brag about there,” Rafe said. “You weren’t even a ‘dear’ as far as Darla was concerned in the first place. So if she’s writing you off, you’re going backward, bro.”

  “This Dear John letter means,” Judah said, running it under his nose to smell the scent of Darla’s perfume, “that she cares about me enough to try to run me off. She’s fighting it, brothers, every step of the way. And that’s the way I like my lady.”

  “Reluctant? Distant? Icy, even?” Sam said. “You always were the peculiar one of us.”

  “Darla’s none of the above.” Judah threw himself on the sofa lengthwise, cradling his head on a sofa pillow. “She’s fighting herself. And she’s losing.”

  “You can tell all that without even opening the letter? Maybe you’ve picked up some of Sabrina’s psychic skills. But I advise you to read it before you go crowing about how hot your runaway bride is for you,” Jonas said.

  “She won’t run from our wedding, that’s for sure. She’ll be too practical for that. I’m a catch.” Judah shrugged and tore open the envelope to hoots from his brothers, pulling out the letter to read it. “This is better news than I’d hoped, even,” he murmured. “She’s given the skinny bronc buster the wave-off.”

  “Really?” Sam perked up. “He’s cleared the field for you?”

  “And she’s planning on marrying me in two days. I told you!” Judah looked up at his brothers in triumph. “I hope I still fit in my tux.”

  “Dummy,” Rafe said. “Sidney wasn’t going to wear a tux. Why should you?”

  “Why not? It’s a special occasion. It calls for a tux.” Judah was pretty certain that in spite of her protestations to the contrary, he and Darla would be married forever. He planned to make rock-solid vows in two days, and no way was he ever letting her give him the slip like she’d given Tunstall. Oh, she might think that was what she wanted, and certainly he would agree to her darling little last-ditch attempt to keep herself from falling head over heels in love with him. But this agreement she wanted bought him time. And he could do a whole lot of convincing in four or five months. Judah squinted at the ceiling. “Which one of you dunces wants to be my best man?”

  “I’m not feeling it,” Jonas said. “Something tells me nothing good can come of marrying a woman who’s Miss Reluctant.”

  “I’m telling you she wants me. Read it for yourself.” He handed the letter to Jonas, who snatched it and read it before passing it to his brothers. They all looked at him with worried expressions. Judah shrugged at their hangdog faces. “Don’t worry. She’s crazy about me.”

  Rafe sighed. “If I have to, I’ll be the sacrificial lamb who stands next to you at the altar while you sign on to get burned a few months hence. But it doesn’t feel like happy ever after to me.”

  “Thanks, tough guy.” Judah closed his eyes, annoyed. He waved the letter in the air again. “This is my ticket, my golden chance, my checkmate, if you will. I win.”

  “We see,” Sam said. “We see that you’re nuts. Darla’s telling you up front she has every intention of marrying you so her babies will have a name. Then she’s divorcing you, dude.”

  “So? I’d rather her marriage-of-convenience be with me than with Sidney. That puts me in her bed, and therefore, in medal contention.”

  “You think of everything in terms of winning or losing,” Sam said. “I don’t know if that’s healthy.”

  “Yeah,” Rafe said, “what if Darla gives you the boot, as per this agreement? Don’t you have to be a gentleman and honor that? Or else it’s not valid. She doesn’t have to say yes until you agree.”

  Judah shrugged. “Just be ready in two days to toss bird-seed, bros. That’s your only job.”

  His brothers grimaced, then went back to what they’d been doing, which looked to be high-stakes, boring Scrabble. Judah smiled to himself. They had no idea that he had everything completely under control. And they could keep their bachelor jealousy to themselves. He was going to be in contention for Fiona’s ranch-o-rama, and they weren’t.

  Darla was going to be Mrs. Callahan, and he was going to be the hero with strong boys who’d ride rodeo just like him. A bull rider and his bundles of joy—how great was that? He knew all about what Darla wanted, and what the practical side of her wanted was a fab dad. Once she saw how great he was with the little lads, she’d never want to let him go.

  Just two days.

  It seemed like forever.

  Chapter Nine

  “I’m worried about Judah,” Jonas said, after Judah had conked out. “He thinks he’s got this all planned down to a script, but I think the situation’s more explosive than he realizes.” Jonas squinted at the Scrabble board, considering his options.

  Rafe nodded. “I was thinking the same thing.”

  “Still,” Sam said, “it’s his business if he wants to get burned like an onion on a grill. We can’t save him from being stupid.”

  “The problem,” Jonas said, glancing over at the peacefully snoring Judah, “is that he believes he can convince Darla that she loves him. The two of them have lived in the same town almost all their lives, and never even played doctor with each other.”

  Rafe and Sam blinked at him. “Doctor?” Sam said.

  “Yeah.” Jonas grimaced. “You know. Doctor.”

  Rafe considered that. “I’ve never played doctor with any of the girls in this town. Spin the bottle, maybe. Pin the tail on the donkey, definitely.” He frowned at Jonas. “You don’t strike me as the type to play doctor, Jonas.”

  Sam snickered. “I played doctor. I also got slapped. Ah, good times.” He looked at Jonas. “Is that why you became a doctor, because you liked playing it so much?”

  “No,” Jonas said, “I became a doctor because I’m smart, and I like helping people. I like puzzles.”

  “It had nothing to do with beautiful nurses,” Rafe said. “Good thing, too, or that would have been a waste of your time, considering you’ve never brought a beautiful nurse home. Or any nurse.”

  Jonas sighed. “All I was trying to say is that Judah and Darla never had the hots for each other before. So why get married?” He glared at his brothers. “There, was that plain enough for you boobs?”

  “Plain enough for me,” Rafe said. “I don’t think we can save him, tho
ugh. He’s on a mission to marry.”

  “I think we should test that mission,” Jonas said, “to make certain true love exists. After all, it’s easier to call off a wedding than to get a divorce later on. Some people have marital counseling, you know, to help them decide if they’re on a successful path with their chosen—”

  “Bah,” Sam said. “I say let him fall on his face.”

  Jonas looked at Rafe. “That leaves you the deciding vote.”

  Rafe appeared troubled. “I see your point about saving pain for him and for Darla and for the children later by not putting them through a divorce. I also see Sam’s point about it being Judah’s business what he does. How exactly do you plan to test this marriage-of-convenience adventure?”

  “Simple,” Jonas said. “We tell Judah we think he’s making a mistake. We just be honest. Nothing underhanded, just plain old honesty.”

  Rafe shook his head. “I don’t want to be punched, thank you.”

  “Me, neither,” Sam said. “I’m the brains of this outfit, you know. I’m trying to save us from Bode. Since it’s your idea, it should probably be you, Jonas. You are eldest, after all.”

  “And I’m the surgeon,” Jonas said, “who will stitch Rafe up when he busts his lip on Judah’s knuckles.”

  Rafe shrugged. “Anyway, I still say the deciding factor is it’s his life. The truth is, those babies do need a name. And it is all Creed’s fault that a Callahan got Darla into this mess, so a Callahan should bail her out.”

  Sam and Jonas looked at him. Then they looked at Judah, who was snoring, his chin practically pointing toward the ceiling.

  “He really isn’t much of a catch,” Rafe said. “I guess if all Darla needs is a name for her children, I can do the marriage-of-convenience thing as well as anybody. If it would save Darla from making a disastrous mistake.”