Montana Cowboy Daddy (Wyatt Brothers of Montana #3) - Jane Porter Page 0,71

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Erika was so angry she couldn’t even think straight. She gave up trying to dry the remaining dishes and stood in the kitchen, staring out the window over the sink, seeing the sliver of moon in the sky, feeling cheated. Betrayed.

And yet, had he ever promised her more?

They had no relationship. They had no bond. Just because they’d kissed didn’t mean there was anything serious between them.

But still, it made her feel sick that she was fantasizing about a life with him while he was texting other women letting them know he couldn’t wait to be back on the road so he could see them.

She swore under her breath, curse words she never used, even as she blinked back hot stinging tears, tears of shame and rage. How naïve had she been? How stupid was she?

Her gaze fell on the highchair that needed wiping down, and she sniffled, holding back tears. What about Beck? How could Billy put himself in danger again so soon? It was selfish. Reckless. Beck deserved better. Beck deserved a father who was planning on sticking around, whole, intact, healthy. A father that would be available for Beck’s needs, not in hospitals, not in bed, not in casts or slings, not with a walker or wheelchair. Billy was the only one who could decide to be that father. He was the only one who could choose to do the right thing. And the right thing was for him to get well, stay well, and take care of his son.

Billy emerged just then from Beck’s bedroom, wearing just a pair of gray flannel pajama pants. He was holding his shirt in his hand. She could see the scars from his recent surgery, the dark pink skin where he’d been patched back together, skin still tender and healing. He walked toward her with the shirt dangling from his hand. “I think I played a little too hard with him. He spewed some of his milk on me.”

She just looked at him. Her expression must have told him she wasn’t happy because he stopped, gave her a long, wary look.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

“What’s wrong? Maybe the fact that you’re planning on competing in less than six weeks. Maybe the fact that you’re planning on being up in Calgary for some stampede—”

“How did you find out?”

“Is it true then?”

“That’s neither here nor there. Who told you?”

Erika’s hands squeezed into fists. She pressed them against her rib cage. “Your phone kept buzzing and buzzing and I was worried something had happened to someone in your family.” Her voice faded, her shoulder shifting. “But it was only your girlfriends checking in, excited to be with you again. I shouldn’t be surprised. I knew who you were from the beginning—”

“What does that mean?”

“I think you know. You made it really clear in the beginning. You don’t stick around. Women are just for fun. You have a hookup in every town.”

“I never said that.”

“You didn’t have to. It was pretty easy to figure out. April, the blonde from Las Vegas. The brunette in Tucson. The redhead in San Antonio.”

He widened his stance, feet planted shoulder width apart. “I don’t really see how my private life is any of your business.”

Those were the wrong words. Absolutely the wrong thing for him to say. None of her business? What had she been doing here all spring?

Fresh rage rolled through her, rage and indignation. “Obviously, I don’t matter here. I’m just one more female to make your life comfortable. I could be anyone. You could replace me like that.” She snapped her fingers. “I could be hired help, someone you booked from a domestic agency. All you have to do is contact one of those sitting services and I’d be replaced.”

“I never asked you to give up your whole life for me. I never asked you to sacrifice everything. You volunteered. You said let me stay until you’re on your feet again. You said you wanted to be the one with Beck, you said—”

“I know perfectly well what I said, but I had no idea that while I struggled to help you and Beck you were sending sexy texts to women, letting them know when you’d be back in town. The good time cowboy—”

“Is that what you really think of me?”

“Don’t act injured. This is your persona. It’s who you want to be, who you want everyone to see. Hit Billy Wyatt up for a good time.”

“You’re not stuck here, Erika. Not trapped. If you’re so miserable,