Page 41 of My Cowboy Temptation

Chapter 13

Two days.

That’s as long as I can hold out before my curiosity gets the better of me, and I’m stepping inside the Stokes Art Gallery Tuesday evening. I probably would have been here yesterday, but a quick search on the internet told me the gallery was closed on Sundays and Mondays. I don’t even know if she’ll even be here, but it’s the only lead I have for finding her.

My boots sound loud against the floor as I walk through the place. I’m immediately flooded with memories of the last time I was here, of seeing Cal looking so fucking sexy in that backless dress and knowing that I had to feel those amazing tits of hers in my hands or die. Of how accommodating she was in finding a quiet, private place where she brought that full mouth over my hard dick, taking me in that tight mouth, a mouth I was going to eventually discover was nothing to the tight heat of her pussy hours later. Of coming fast and hard across her lush ass after almost being discovered.

Fuck. Enough. The woman is still just as off-limits as she was before—no. Even more. Because now she’s pregnant, pregnant with some asshole’s baby when it should be mine.

She belongs to me.

None of these thoughts make sense, but they’ve been with me since I first saw her the other night, heard that she’s back in Montana, maybe forever. It’s why I’m here, because I have to make sense of things even if she doesn’t owe me anything.

“Hello,” says an attractive woman with short, dark hair, who appears from the back. “Feel free to look around and let me know if you have any questions.”

“Actually, I’m looking for Callie Castle. Is she working today?”

The woman’s eyes narrow the barest moment, and then she nods. “I’ll see if she’s available,” she says and returns to the room in the back.

I’m staring at a bright painting of a rooster when I hear her coming, her footsteps graceful and measured as she draws nearer. When I turn to see her, my chest tightens at how beautiful she is. She’s wearing a long dress with bright red flowers on it and a low scoop neckline that frames her gorgeous face while also giving me a glimpse of the top of her breasts, breasts that seem fuller than before as they push against the fabric. Immediately I’m imagining what they might feel like, taste like, and I have to look away to catch my breath.

When I look back, I’m determined to keep my gaze on her from the neck up, which isn’t hard as her face is flushed and dewy, her beautiful green eyes glimmer brightly back at me, and her lips—well, they’re full and round and the same color as the red flowers on her dress.

No, don’t go thinking about her lips.

Everly was certainly right about one thing. Pregnancy definitely agrees with Callie.

If she were mine, I would fill her belly with babies for as long as she’d let me.

We’re silent a moment as we both seem to be taking stock of each other. “Was there something you want, Brody?” she asks finally.

“We need to talk,” I say curtly.

“Sorry, but I’m working.”

“The gallery closes in ten minutes.” It’s why I chose this time to arrive.

She sighs. “I don’t think that’s a good idea, Brody. We’ve said all there is to say to each other. Nothing has changed.”

“A hell of a lot has changed,” I snap. “You’re pregnant and alone and back here in Montana when you should be out there making all of your dreams come true.”

“What do you know about my dreams?” she asks, almost angrily.

I tip my hat above my head and run a hand through my hair, taking a second to consider this. It is a reasonable question, one that I’m starting to wonder if I ever asked her.

A beautiful, talented woman like Callie would want the world. Right?

“Please, Cal. I just want to clarify some things, and then I’ll leave you alone.” At least for tonight. I couldn’t say what tomorrow would bring.

She stares at me a long moment as I hold her gaze, telling her without words I’m not going anywhere. She nods finally. “Okay. Let me get my things.” She walks away, her hips moving gracefully side to side, and I appreciate the breadth of those hips, remembering them in my hands as I pounded into her and knowing how soon those same wide hips will widen to make room for the wee babe in her belly.

She’s back a few minutes later, and I hold the door open for her. “Where’s your car?”

“I walked.”

That stops me. “Is that a good idea in your condition?”

She rolls her eyes and starts walking. “I’m pregnant, not paralyzed. Walking is good exercise. Besides, the weather has been so nice, and I want to take advantage of it while I can.”

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