But that was months off. Right now, things were good.
And in a few days, Chloe was coming.
Then they were all going to the rodeo.
Twelve
He wasn’t wearing a hat and that was final.
Oliver had no problem putting on the boots and the belt buckle, and jeans and a button-up shirt with a sports jacket were fine, but he drew the line at a hat. Yes, Flash looked decent enough in his black felt hat but Oliver was of the opinion—the correct opinion—that his father looked like a life-size Howdy Doody doll in his enormous Stetson.
No hats.
Oliver was fully aware he was being irrational. But he had barely seen Renee for the last few days. When Chloe had blown into town like a twister, she’d swept Renee up and together they’d decamped to Chloe’s place for “quality girl time.”
Which was fine. He was perfectly capable of entertaining himself. He’d been doing it for years.
But when he came home to an empty condo and no fresh-baked cookies, it bothered him and it had nothing to do with actual cookies. Renee wasn’t there to breathlessly tell him about everything she’d accomplished that day. Whether it was successfully baking a loaf of bread or managing to crochet a small pot holder—at least, that’s what they were calling that lopsided square of yarn—she did so with such raw joy that he couldn’t help it if he wound up wrapping her in his arms before she’d even asked how his day was.
She glowed, damn it. Every day, her body changed a little bit and the haunted shadows under her eyes became an ever more distant memory and he was helpless to do anything but stare at her in wonder.
Because she was wonderful. And he’d missed her more than any reasonable man should miss a houseguest for the last two days.
But that was just it, wasn’t it? She wasn’t a houseguest, not anymore. She was...
His. She was his.
Wasn’t she?
He was in a foul mood by the time he made it to the Fort Worth Stockyards. He was hours early, but he wanted to talk to security and make sure Renee wouldn’t have any problems.
Plus, now that he was here, he was duty-bound to check in with the promoter and the stock manager about how Chloe was doing. The attendance numbers were good and her clothing line was selling well, as were the other souvenirs, but he wanted to hear it from the horse’s mouth.
He gritted his teeth and grinned his way through handshakes and back slaps. Everyone had good things to say about Chloe’s management, which was great.
Where the hell were she and Renee?
Then, like something out of a damned movie, the crowd of riders and horses and calves all parted and there she was. His breath caught in his throat as he stared. He barely recognized her, but he felt it when Renee looked up and their eyes met across the crowd. She gave him a little smile, one that sent a thrill all the way down to his toes, which were firmly wedged into his damn boots.
Chloe had worked magic on Renee. Her hair curled and artfully arranged under the brim of a straw hat, she was wearing a lot more makeup than usual. Her jeans clung to her curves and her button-up top sparkled with sequins. Her curves were more pronounced, her belly rounding out behind a ridiculous sequined buckle. He guessed that, if someone didn’t know she was pregnant she might not look it. She looked like a cowgirl, one that could walk in this world.
Even though it’d only been two days, he could still see how much her body had changed and he was pissed that he’d missed a single moment.
Leading her over to where the calves for the calf-roping event were penned up, Chloe said something to Renee and they laughed.
This was how she should always be—laughing and having fun and no doubt making cooing noises to the calf that sniffed her hand.
God, he’d missed her. Too much. He’d done his best to focus on the last three weeks instead of game planning the next few months or years, but he couldn’t help the fantasy that spun out of control in his mind.
He could marry her. He could adopt her baby and they could be a family. He’d grow old with her by his side, teasing each other while eating cookies and spending long evenings in bed and doing all those things parents did with kids—parks and soccer games and school plays. All those things that his parents had done with him—and her—when they were kids.
She could make him happy.
Then a thought jolted him almost completely out of his chair. All those happy scenes?
They hadn’t been in New York. They’d been in Texas, at Red Oak Hill, here in his condo. His perfect life with her was here. Not thousands of miles away.
Reality barged in because, in that vision of happiness, he hadn’t seen his overbearing father or loose-cannon siblings or even this stupid rodeo.
Besides, he didn’t even know if he could make her happy. She was still getting back on her feet and it probably wasn’t helping that they were sleeping together. Hell, she hadn’t even been able to explain those strange marks on her legs. He was afraid it had something to do with her husband, but he hadn’t wanted to push. She’d tell him in her own time. He hoped. And if she didn’t...
Hell.
A big man came up to Chloe and, after a second, Oliver recognized Pete Wellington. Damn it, when would he learn that the All-Stars wasn’t his anymore? The last thing anyone needed right now was for Wellington to cause a scene. But if he was here—and by the look of it, giving Chloe trouble—then things were about to go sideways. Fast.
Not that Renee knew it. She looked over at
