Second Hope Cowboy (21 page)

“What are you talking about?” He looked in the glass cabinet door and cringed. He looked like a drunken clown. Dark blue covered his eyelids and red lipstick smeared his lips. “Becca!”

“I told you I was getting you ready for your princess,” Becca said from beside him.

Tucker looked at Hope who was laughing. “Will you give me a minute to wash my face and I’ll meet you on the porch?”

Hope nodded. “Take your time.”

****

Hope was sitting on the porch drinking iced tea when Tucker came out. She sucked in a breath. He was sexy with tousled hair, unshaven jaw and his shirt left unbuttoned. She ached to climb into his brawny arms but slowed her pace. There were so many things she had to say first.

“Everything okay over at the house?” He didn’t take the available seat but leaned against the rail.

“Not so great, I must admit.” She set her glass on the table and stood up. “I let something go that I miss greatly.” She slid her hands into her back pockets.

“The baby stuff?” He lifted a thick brow.

She shook her head. “Let’s not beat around the bush, cowboy. I’ve come to take you home.”

“Don’t I have a say in this?”

She pulled her hands from her pockets and sighed. “Only if you don’t feel the same way that I do.”

He took a small step forward. “And tell me what that is.”

“The way that a woman feels when she’s head over heels, madly, completely in love with a man. I want a second chance at making you happy. I want my life back as your wife. I knew before now, even planned to tell you after the gala event, but I missed my opportunity.”

He took another small step closer. “You realize I’m not a yo-yo. You can’t spin me back and forth. I want forever, with you, no matter what our future holds.”

“I’d like to bring Dalton home, our home. But it must be our agreement. If you don’t want—”

“Yes, I want. I want you, I want Dalton, I want our family. I want you happy.” He wrapped his arms around her waist and swept her off her feet. “Damn, woman. Took you long enough!”

Once he stopped twirling, she planted her palms on either side of his face. “Three days felt like hell. But I had to do something first.” His brow lifted and she laughed. “I had to move all of my things into the house, but I was also waiting for this.” She pulled out the two rings from her front pocket, holding them in her palm.

“Those are our rings.”

She nodded. “I have Cash to thank for this. It took him forever to find them. He’d given up on his search when I remembered the tree—our tree—the one you carved our initials into years ago, telling me it’d always be our place. You had a good hiding place there in that tiny hole between branches. What if someone had come along and found them?”

He shrugged. “No one would find them. I guessed I felt they belonged there, right where we kissed for the first time.”

“I’m glad I didn’t have to buy new rings. It wouldn’t have been the same. I made the mistake of taking this ring off before and placed it on your nightstand the night I left,” she held up the sparkling diamond, “but if you slip it back on I’ll never take it off again. I promise.”

He took the ring from her. “Hope, will you marry me—again?”

“You betcha I will.” She kissed him fully. Pulling back, she showed him the large gold band. “Will you marry me, Tucker?”

“You betcha!”

She pushed his ring on his fourth finger. “And just know, you’ll never get away from me again.”

“Never.” He kissed her cheek, then her neck and lower to her collarbone. “I’d have to chase you until I caught you. And you know my roping skills are pretty awesome.”

“Look Daddy, Uncle Tuck is kissing the princess.”

Hope looked past Tucker. Becca was jumping up and down. Cash was smiling ear to ear.

****

Tucker looked from one end of the long table and at all of the smiling faces. From the Brooke brothers and their wives, to Cash and Becca, JR, and Dalton who dug into his mashed potatoes like he’d never had something so good before. He’d come to live with them six months ago and he’d come so far in such a small amount of time. Tucker couldn’t imagine life without the boy.

Moving his attention to his wife, Tucker watched as Hope placed the roasted turkey in the middle of the table. Her hair was pulled away from her face, her eyes were bright and she had a glow…probably because her stomach was full with their child. Yesterday had marked nine months and their baby would be born soon. He felt like the luckiest man alive. The doc couldn’t explain how it was possible that the baby had lived when so many hadn’t. Miracles came when one least expected them. He wouldn’t complain.

Hope came to him, placing her hand on his shoulder, smiling. “Tucker, you won’t be eating turkey.”

He blinked. “Why not?” He’d been looking forward to eating the bird for weeks.

Her eyes sparkled. “Because you and I have to go to the hospital.”

Gasps and ahhhs were heard from around the table.

“The hospital? Why—what?” He jumped out of his chair, sending it crashing to the floor. “Is it time?”

“Yes, my dear. My contractions are five minutes apart. It appears our little one wants to give us the best Thanksgiving Day present ever.”

He grabbed her hand and gently squeezed. “Are you ready, my love?” His chest filled with pride.

Hope stepped from his hold and bent to kiss Dalton on the cheek. “I’ve already spoken to April, Peyton and Elsa and they will hold down the fort here. When we get back, Dalton, you’ll be a big brother.” The little boy smiled and squirmed in his seat. She stood up and took Tucker’s hand. “Let’s go have this baby.”.”

The End

From the author:

Thank you for reading Second Hope Cowboy. Pleaseleave a revie
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and like my author page
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http://www.amazon.com/Rhonda-LeeCarver/

Hugs,

Rhonda Lee Carver  “Writing Men Who Love to Get Their Hands Dirty…”

At an early age, Rhonda fell in love with romance novels, knowing one day she’d write her own love story. Life took a short detour, but when the story ideas would no longer be contained, she decided to dive in and write. Her first rough draft was on a dirty napkin she found buried in her car. Eventually, she ran out of napkins. With baby on one hip and laptop on the other, she made a dream into reality—one word at a time.

Her specialty is men who love to get their hands dirty and women who are smart, strong and flawed. She loves writing about the everyday hero.

When Rhonda isn't crafting sizzling manuscripts, you will find her busy editing novels, blogging, juggling kids and animals (too many to name), dreaming of a beach house and keeping romance alive.

I hope you’ve enjoyed
Second Hope Cowboy (Book 6 of the Second Chance Series)

For other titles by Rhonda Lee Carver, please visit:

www.rhondaleecarver.com

 Find me on Facebook, too!

www.facebook.com/rhondalee.carver

Other books by Rhonda Lee Carver

Diamond in a Rose

Double Dare

Delaney’s Sunrise

Second Chance Cowboy (Book 1, Second Chance Series)

Second Ride Cowboy (Book 2, Second Chance Series)

Second Round Cowboy (Book 3, Second Chance Series)

Second Dance Cowboy (Book 4, Second Chance Series)

Second Song Cowboy (Book 5, Second Chance Series)

Second Burn Cowboy (Book 6, Second Chance Series)

Castle’s Fortress

Dreaming Ivy

Friends With Benefits

Sin With Cuffs

With Honor

Wicked Pleasures (Book 1, Wicked Wolves Series)

Wicked Lust (Book 2, Wicked Wolves Series)

Fighting Flames

Under Pressure (Book 1, Rhinestone Cowboy)

and

Watch for Pressure Rising (Book 2, Rhinestone Cowboy) Coming Soon!!!

Have you read
UNDER PRESSURE
(Available at Amazon)? If not, here’s Chapter One. I hope you’ll enjoy.

http://www.amazon.com/Under-Pressure-Rhinestone-Cowgirls-Book-ebook/dp/B00N57TK10/ref=sr_1_9?ie=UTF8&qid=1412700400&sr=8-9&keywords=rhonda+lee+carver

Chapter One

SCANNING THE CROWD in the country bar, Two Step, Jewels Stone took a sip from her beer. She set it back down with a loud
clang
and her irritation amplified. She wasn’t much of a drinker, but the less attention she got, the better. Sitting alone in a bar made her the target for every horny man in the place. At least the alcohol made it tolerable. And, she’d gotten the stink-eye down pat, and that seemed to work at keeping men at an acceptable distance—at least most men.

Feeling eyes on her, she lifted her chin. The cowboy sitting at the next table watched her in beady-eyed curiosity. A grin erupted over his expression as he leaned forward, almost falling from his chair.

Oh Lordy!
She was probably the only sober one left in the building.

Drunken Cowboy slithered his gaze to the low neckline of her shirt, sweeping his tongue across his bottom lip hidden by a wiry beard. His smile widened and he winked—ego enlarged by alcohol. “Hi there, honey-pie,” he slurred.

Jewels cringed and turned, shielding her cleavage from his view.

Sighing, she glanced at the mirrored clock on the wall
. Eleven P.M
. Hope faded as she searched the room again, noticing a couple dancing. They were staring at each other. The man swept his hand along the woman’s cheek and she slipped her arms around his neck, looking up at him with complete trust. It was a scene straight from a romance novel.

Jewels shook her head and moved her gaze elsewhere, feeling a heaviness in the pit of her stomach. She didn’t believe in love—at least not any longer.

An upbeat song drifted from the jukebox and, hoping to ease her tension, she rolled her shoulders to the beat, thrumming her fingers on the polished table and tapping her foot. She hummed along until the singer crooned about cheating men and younger women—hitting too close to home.

Groaning and downing the rest of her warm beer, she didn’t need to be the last sober person standing.

Eleven-ten.

Sliding deeper into the wooden chair, she stretched her legs, hooking her heels on the chair across from her. The neon sign above the door blurred as she stared. The one-hour stakeout had oozed into three long hours. Her aching bottom had finally turned numb, and she realized private sleuthing wasn’t a job she was cut out for. She’d stick with photography, although here lately, even that had fizzled. Right down the hatch with everything else in her life these days.

Eleven-fifteen.

She should be home, tucked in the comfort of her blankets, and yet thinking of crawling into the big bed alone made her chest tighten. She’d spent more nights curled up on the sofa than in her bedroom.

Moving back to her childhood home, the Rhinestone Ranch, at least she’d managed to get more sleep than ever, but her self-esteem certainly had suffered.

Although her father welcomed her, and she enjoyed being close to her sisters and the horses, living in his house was taking her further away from her pursuit of independence. She’d lived on her own for ten years but she’d never quite found what she was looking for.

Jewels guessed her father liked having his three grown up daughters under his wing. Protective and sometimes overbearing, Joshua Stone had every reason to be the heavy-handed father. Losing his wife while his youngest daughter was still in diapers and becoming a single father of all girls must have been a great hardship for a tough cowboy with rough edges. Her mother dying of cancer had stripped everyone’s life of something. Each year that passed, her mother’s beautiful eyes and jovial laughter seemed to slip more and more from Jewels’ memory.