Claiming The Rancher's Heir (Gold Valley Vineyards #2) - Maisey Yates Page 0,29

certain.”

“You have to be honest with me,” she said. “Because when I left here earlier what I realized was that I don’t actually know anything about you. We have worked in proximity to each other for the last five years. And we fight. We... We create some kind of insane electrical surge when we are together, and I can’t explain it. And somehow in all of that, I convinced myself that I knew you. But that night that we were here together after the party, there was something wrong. I knew it, even though I didn’t know what it was. And when I told you I was pregnant... Look, I didn’t expect you to be thrilled about it. But I didn’t expect you to demand that I marry you. And I think the problem is, we just don’t know each other.”

“We know each other well enough. I’d be good to you. I wouldn’t cheat.”

She didn’t look convinced. Not by his offer, not at all. And she should be. What the hell more could she possibly want? Love, he supposed. But here they both were in their thirties, not anywhere near close to settling down, and they were having a kid. Neither of them was young enough or starry-eyed enough to think there was some mystical connection out there waiting for them.

He’d lost his belief in that a long time ago.

Maybe Wren hadn’t.

But he didn’t see Wren as a romantic. Particularly not after the way things had worked out in her parents’ marriage.

“What?” he asked.

“There are other reasons to get married. I just... You would really be faithful to me?”

“Wren, I can’t even think about other women when I’m with you. I can’t imagine taking vows to be true to you and then betraying them.”

“That’s nice,” she said. “But a lot of men can. You know, my father, for one.”

“So that would matter to you,” he said.

“Yes,” she said. “If I was going to do it... I don’t share.”

“So now you’re considering it.”

“I need to know why.”

“It’s not important.”

“I have a feeling that it is.”

Why not tell her? After all, his family knew. Well, Jackson did. And so did his father. Creed had never talked to Honey about it, but she had been a baby. A kid.

But anyway, it wasn’t like no one knew. And he had never agreed to keep it quiet.

Wren looked at him directly. “Does it have something to do with Louisa Johnson?”

The name hit him square in the chest. “How do you...”

“I saw you looking at her. At the barbecue. And afterward...”

“It’s not what you think,” he said.

“Look. If you needed to be with me to deal with seeing an ex, it’s fine. I knew what was happening.”

“I wasn’t thinking of her. I wasn’t using you. Not in the way you mean.” He was surprised how much it mattered to him for her to know that.

She looked at him, bemused. “Then what is it?”

“Do you know her at all?”

“They do birthday parties and things at the winery sometimes. That’s it. I know her in a vaguely professional capacity.”

“So you know her husband, then, and her kids.”

“I’ve seen them. Yes.”

He shook his head. “Her oldest son is mine.”

For the second time in a couple of days, Wren felt like the ground had tilted beneath her feet.

Her thoughts were coming in too fast for her to grab hold of them.

He had a son.

Creed had a son.

“He... He...”

“You may not remember this, seeing as you didn’t go to school here. But Louisa got pregnant in high school.”

“I always got the impression that...”

“Yes. By design. That Cal is the father of all her children. She and Cal were dating at the time. She and I started... We were in a study group together, and I developed some pretty strong feelings for her. I knew she was with Cal, but you know how it is when you’re young. And you think things will work out just because you want them to. That your feelings have to be good and true and right. Well, I thought mine were. I was a virgin, and what we got up to in the back of my truck sure felt like love to me. I thought it was the same for her. We made a mistake. So, now that you’re pregnant... This isn’t the first damn time I’ve made this mistake, Wren. I swore that I never would again. Twice is just... It’s damn careless. Especially when you’ve got eighteen years between who you were and who