She had helped him question what impact HayesOil had on the world and had sown the first few seeds of doubt in his head. The relationship had only lasted three months. He had efficiently and tidily ended it after sleeping with two girls from his economics class in quick succession, probably one of his only regrets in life outside of his fucked-up family. Copious amounts of anonymous campus sex smoothed the edges after she'd left with an email saying she had to transfer colleges. He had read between the lines. She hadn't wanted him. That much was clear, but it was cool because he'd replaced her quickly.

Good for her, he thought with no small amount of self-deprecation. Hell, what if she had overlooked the drinking and the sex with other girls and stayed at his side much longer? She would have seen twenty-year-old Riley was a self-destructive, spoiled rich kid with nothing to offer her long term. Hell, it had taken another eight years and the explosion of Jack in his life for him to start growing up properly and to actually do something with his dreams.

If she'd known she was pregnant though? How could she have left him? She wasn't the type to sleep around. She'd not been any kind of virgin when they got together, but she'd had morals. Unlike me. Why would she leave him with just one email explaining she was finishing her studies at a Maine college and 'thanks for the memories'. She had to know Riley would have moved mountains for a child and paid any amount of money to make sure their child was happy. He groaned inwardly as it hit him perhaps that was exactly it. The speed with which he had once solved problems in his life by using his endless supply of cash was frightening. Riley being rich as Croesus, she probably thought he would pay her off, or, shit, he would take the baby or worse, want her to have an abortion. The three months they'd been together he hadn't exactly been advertising himself as sensible and trustworthy. How would she have known he could be trusted? Hell. He wouldn't even have trusted him.

"Riley, you staying in here all day?"

The voice was loud over the noise of the water. Jack's voice. In fact, it was actually Jack's body inside the shower, stealing Riley's water. He hadn't even sensed the door open, let alone felt the coolness of the air outside the shower, and suddenly Jack was there. His husband was all practicality and washing off the dust and smell of the barns though and didn't seem inclined to start anything physical or, in fact, talk. Which, to be fair, was a good thing as Riley had a head full of problems. They exchanged a kiss good morning, shared the body soap and a hug, and once rinsed, Jack turned off the water. Dressed, they sat nursing coffee in the kitchen, Riley's third of the morning, and he was feeling antsy and restless.

"Taylors has an infection," Jack began conversationally, and Riley grunted in reply. It really was the most he could manage without shouting out why the fuck Jack thought talking about freaking horses was more important than talking about impending fatherhood. Irritation built in him, underlined by anger and his own inability to vocalize how he was feeling.

"Are you going to shave?" he finally snapped as he looked at Jack devouring toast like it was going out of fashion. Jack stopped with a slice of toast halfway to his mouth and stared at Riley with an incredulous look in his eyes.

"I'm going to in a while," he said carefully, and Riley bristled. The pitch of Jack's voice was his "shit, Riley is losing it" tone.

"We need to make a good example, not show that we're cowboys that don't care." Riley could have swallowed his words even as he said them. Jack was the cowboy here, certainly not Riley. Riley still hadn't lost the city's edge, so by implication, Riley was belittling Jack.

To his credit, Jack didn't rise to the comment. He simply, carefully, placed the toast on the counter and inhaled. Riley saw the rise of his chest and winced.

"Do you want to do this now? Is that you need?" Jack asked. "You want a discussion on cowboys who care in the kitchen of my momma's house?"

Shit. Bringing Donna into this wasn't fair. Riley loved Donna, and he loved this house. His gut twisted, and he stood quickly, pulling himself to his full height and crossing his arms over his chest.

"Don't bring your momma into this," he said simply. Jack took a step forward until they were toe to toe, and Jack was looking up at him.

"I'm not arguing with you, Riley."

"Then go and shave."

"I've been up since three. I. Am. Eating. Breakfast."

Each one of Jack's words was plain and punctuated with careful precision.

"Why couldn't Donna go to see Taylors?" Shit, what was he doing? Why was he even going down this route? He could feel his inner child, petulant and whiny, and it wasn't attractive. What happened to being a grown man?

"Momma spent the night with the vet," Jack spat the word vet, leaving no uncertainty as to what he thought of that. Unspoken was "the horses are mine to watch over".

This effectively closed off every single argument in Riley's head, and frustrated, he snapped, "Well I needed you." Jack moved quicker than Riley had seen before, and Riley was off balance and then back against the nearest wall in an instant. Jack nudged his legs apart until he had slumped down to make them equal in height. Riley went from pissed to hard as freaking steel in seconds. God, what it did to him when Jack got all alpha male on his ass.

"I get you are freaking out. Okay?" Riley just blinked, and Jack gripped his hands harder. "Okay?" he repeated.

"Okay."

"But what we don't need this morning is an argument over some not really important shit. Right?"

Jack's lips were just there. A single millimeter between them and an upswell of emotion flooded Riley. He didn't want an argument. Jeez, he didn't even want sex. He just wanted to get this whole visit out of the way and know for sure what they were doing. The waiting was killing him. He wanted a kiss. He moved enough to press his lips to Jack's, and to give him his due, Jack didn't back away. It was Riley's apology for losing it, and it was a plea for affection and support. Jack knew him too well. The kiss deepened until an amused laugh broke them apart. Jack pulled back and rested his forehead against Riley's.

"You all right?" Jack asked gently, and Riley closed his eyes briefly then opened them.

"I want it done," he replied.

"You and me both, het-boy."

They separated to face Eden, the owner of the chuckle, who had her back to them filling a mug with coffee.

"Hey, Eden," Riley said. He didn't ask the obvious question about why the hell his little sister was here this early. He knew she was here for him, and for Jack, but most of all for Hayley. She turned to look at them and blew on the hot drink, looking at them over the rim of the mug.

"I didn't sleep one minute last night thinking on what's happening. Wish they'd hurry up already," she grouched, then narrowed her eyes at Jack. "You gonna shave, cowboy?"

C

HAPTER

5

It was actually a little after nine when the plume of dust from a cab on the long drive leading to the D indicated the arrival of Riley's future. He had thought to call his mom and Jim but put the cell down as quickly as he'd picked it up. Eden told them she and Donna had decided to keep the news confined to Riley and Jack, and for a while, that's what Riley wanted to do. He wasn't sure he could handle his mom and the arrival of a potential daughter all in the space of an hour. Cup of coffee number five was long past, but Eden had shut him down by tipping the rest of the pot down the sink. Jack had shaved and dressed in his best jeans and a startlingly white shirt. He looked gorgeous, sexy and every inch the gentleman rancher. The cowboy inside had been tamed to within an inch. Riley glanced down at what he was wearing—a charcoal Armani suit, a white shirt, and a dark blue and gold tie. All remnants of his life in the tower of HayesOil. The suit had been in a garment bag, pushed to the back of his closet. Too many memories were attached to the clothes to make them something he wanted to see every day. He'd become too used to dressy denim and fitted shirts to go back to the restrictions of shirt and tie. Even for his consultation meetings, he attended in dress pants and a button-down.