Cocky Cowboy: A Second Chance Romance (Cocker Brothers of Atlanta Book 3) Read online

  As we ride closer to the house, Jaxson frowns and cranes his head. “You hear that?”

  Inside, both our phones are simultaneously ringing, overlapping each other.

  “Whoa, boy,” he tells the stallion bringing him to a stop. Jumping off first, Jaxson rushes to help me down.

  As he goes to release my hand, I grip his to keep him here a moment longer.

  “Jaxson,” I whisper, holding his worried eyes. “Whatever happens, please be my friend.”

  On a sharp intake of breath, he pulls me in for a quick hug. “Always.”

  He holds the door for me and we go to our phones, exchanging a look as we dial.

  “Mom?”

  My mother’s voice is trembling. “Rachel. I’m so sorry.”

  “Oh God.” I whisper, eyes locked on Jaxson’s hunched back.

  She breaks down crying, choking out, “John is your father, Rachel. It’s John.”

  Jaxson turns and meets my eyes, the phone clutched in his right hand. He’s listening to the same news from the doctor. “Thank you, Dr. Saurnet,” he rasps, emotions barely controlled as he hangs up, eyes locked on mine.

  Jaxson

  “Shit,” I groan, tossing the phone on the couch and my hat with it. Running my hands through my hair, I grip my head a second longer and sit down on one of my leather chairs.

  Rachel walks to lean against one of the wood beams. She hugs herself, her blue eyes floating around the room as reality sets in that I’m not her half-brother. We didn’t commit one of the worst sins known to man.

  The nauseating idea of what we’d done and how we feel about each other despite it is lifting slowly off both of us.

  “Wow,” Rachel whispers.

  In times like this I stay put until I know what to do. So right now I don’t move. Not for a long time. A sharp intake of breath from Rachel makes me look at her.

  She’s staring at me. For how long I don’t know. “I think I need to see my father, Jaxson. I think he needs me. I need him, too.”

  “I understand. Are you coming back?”

  She blinks to the floor and shakes her head. “I have to go home, I think. I’m on a deadline with my editor and I haven’t written a single word here.” Off my silence she quietly add, “And I still feel too weird.”

  “I know. Me too.”

  The urge to offer her a place to write as long as she wants, right there on my dining table – hell, I’ll even buy her a desk – gets shoved down. She’s right. We can’t exactly just start right back up where we left off. I’m having a hard time looking at her. I’m so angry with my father. This day has been a rollercoaster of pain.

  And besides, her reminding me of her deadline also reminds me of who she is. What do I have to offer a city girl like Rachel?

  I rasp, “I understand.” Running my hands through my hair in my struggle against all of this, I ask, “What about the baby?”

  “Oh God, the baby,” she whispers, closing her eyes in relief that the child is not born of accidental incest. But it still might be Ryan’s. Blinking rapidly while she thinks of what to do, she finally says, “He told me about the paternity tests. It’s safer to wait until after twelve weeks. Ten is good, he said, but twelve is better. I want to make sure it’s safe. Especially after the grief of today. So much stress on it. It has to feel what I’ve been feeling.”

  I wag my head like someone’s punched me. “That’s three weeks.” Three weeks without knowing. Three weeks without seeing you. “You want to do that in New York?”

  She licks her lips and looks out the window. “I need to get my life in order.”

  And your life is there.

  “I get it,” I rasp, staring off.

  “Jaxson,” she whispers, walking to sit on the couch and lay her hand on my knee. “What do you want?”

  “I want you to be happy.”

  She holds my eyes a moment then withdraws her hand, leaving an emptiness behind. “Will you drive me back to Atlanta?”

  Now?

  Jesus.

  My phone rings and we both glance to find the word ‘Dad’ on the screen.

  “Are you going to answer it?” she asks.

  “No.”

  On a deep breath, Rachel reaches to the phone and hits, ‘decline,’ sending him to voicemail. She opens her palm and I slide mine onto it, gripping her fingers. “Jaxson, thank you for letting me come here and clear my head.”

  On a sarcastic smirk, I mutter, “Yeah. Real relaxing.”

  She squeezes my fingers “Don’t be like that. It was. Riding Hermione today made me feel like myself again. Even with that horrible test result looming over us, she gave me the strength to face what I have to now. And Jaxson, even with us not being brother and sister, I still learned my parents kept something from me that could have changed everything. I need to go home after I see my dad, get my life figured out.” Putting her head in her hands, she sighs, “I have a lot of feelings that need to be sorted through.” Meeting my eyes again she softly says, “I don’t know what the next step is, but there’s a bridge that has to be crossed, and a decision to be made.”

  Jealousy lashes into my veins – a feeling I never felt before I met her.

  She’s talking about Ryan.

  I felt this when I saw him kiss her.

  I felt it when I didn’t talk to her for two months.

  And here it fucking is again.

  Releasing her hand I rise up and go for my keys.

  “I have to pack.” Rachel reminds me, heading for the stairs with heavy steps.

  Exhaling, I watch her climb them, then walk to my kitchen where the horses are grazing outside the window with their saddles still on. Heading out to take care of that, I call up, “I’ll be outside.”

  The ride to Atlanta for the second time today is unnerving for an altogether different reason than this morning.

  She’s leaving.

  I’ve been given the right to love her.

  But now…she’s leaving.

  As we pull up to Arden Road I grip the steering wheel and shove down the desire to ask her to stay. I don’t feel I have anything to offer her here. To ask her to milk cows for a living, and spend lazy days with me, doesn’t seem right or remotely plausible.

  I carry her suitcase to the house and Rachel remains by my side, quiet and frowning as deeply as I am. The door swings open and her mother is there with bloodshot eyes and a cigarette in her hand.

  “Jaxson,” Ellen whispers. “Come in.”

  My throat is dry as I shake my head. “I’m just dropping Rachel off.”

  Her surprise is an exhausted flicker across her face. She blinks between Rachel and I on the porch and then drops her gaze. “I’ll give you a moment.” She lifts the suitcase and when the front door closes, I turn to the woman I made a promise to.

  “Rachel, if you need anything remember I’m your friend. If you want me to come up for the paternity test, I will fly to New York without hesitation.”

  She touches my cheek, her angelic blue eyes filling up. “Can I let you know?”

  “Sure,” I rasp, pressing her hand into my stubbled skin. I pull her into me and squeeze her tightly, whispering into her soft, hair. “I want to be there. This isn’t just lip service. I’m a man of my word.”

  She nods and pulls away.

  Struggling, I mutter, “It might be mine. Promise me you’ll tell me either way.”

  Her eyes go wide. “Of course!”

  My throat is closing. “We’ll always be friends.”

  “Always,” she whispers with a look I can’t decipher because I’m too fucked up inside. But over the coming weeks I’ll replay it over and over.

  She goes into the house, pausing to hold my eyes before she closes the door.

  My heart collapses. I raise my fist to knock hard, but stop just short. Cocker men don’t beg. Shoving shaking hands in my pockets I walk to my Jeep and don’t look back.

  Jaxson

  My mom looks as fresh as a pink rose as she answ
ers the door minutes later. “Well, what’s the occasion?!” she smiles, her pretty brown eyes glittering with surprise. “Come in! You want some lemonade?”

  “I’d love some, Mom,” I say with a forced smile.

  She happily heads for the kitchen while telling me about her day.

  “You just missed Jake and his new wife! I wish I knew you were coming. I would have asked them to stay longer. We had a delicious lunch and then I kept them late showing her pictures of Jake all the way from when he was a baby on up! He hated it,” Mom laughs. “You would have enjoyed watching him squirm.”

  As I follow her into the kitchen, I glance up the stairs to see if Dad is here.

  He’s who I came for.

  But now I just might have to tell her the truth on my own.

  As she pours the lemonade she goes on, “Remember that photo of Jake on the donkey? That man who went door-to-door for kid’s pictures? And Jake was too big for the thing but I wanted the photograph so I forced him? Remember that?”

  I nod. “I wasn’t home that day. Thank God.”

  “But you remember the photo?”

  “How could I forget? Jake looked like he wanted to kill the photographer.”

  Mom laughs, “He did!” Looking wistful, she pours tall glasses for both of us. “Oh, I want a granddaughter, Jaxson. I so hope they have one. All these boys! Never one daughter to cuddle with and dress up. You guys couldn’t care less about shopping. When Jett’s girlfriend came here it was such a relief to have someone who needed my help! Anyway, I told Jake to get on it.”

  She hands me her homemade lemonade and I stare at it thinking of all the BBQs she made this for. This and her famous fresh ginger ale that Jason always hoards. All those good times when we didn’t know Dad was in love with another women, too.

  My younger brothers’ faces flash before me.

  “Is Dad home?” I ask, readying myself to break the news.

  “No, he isn’t. Earlier today an emergency came up and he looked like someone died or something. He hasn’t been back since.” As she goes on about how irritating it is to be married to a politician sometimes, because of the confidentiality of the matters he deals with daily, I watch her face.

  She’s in love with him.

  Has been, my whole life.

  They fight over Jett but other than that she adores him.

  Just like I did.

  My father’s a powerful man, very intelligent, charming when he wants to be, rough when he needs to be, and has the confidence and courage of twenty men. Some of it born, some of it taught, the rest of it earned.

  As she finishes fake griping on a lovely smile, I reach over and take her hand. “Mom.”

  Her eyes flicker as she takes in my sober expression. “What is it, Jaxson? What’s wrong?” Her free hand trembles up to her mouth. “Oh dear God. It’s Jett, isn’t it? He’s hurt!”

  “No. Jett’s fine, Mom.”

  “Jeremy!?” She steps closer, searching my eyes with fear in hers. Jeremy is in the Marines and she has reason to think my expression is because I got bad news. “Please tell me he’s okay!”

  I pull her into my arms, crushing her to me, choked up as I reassure her, “Jeremy’s okay, Mom. I’m sorry. He’s okay.”

  “What is it?” she whispers into my chest.

  I am fucking dying over this. Pain is streaking through my body and I can’t even speak.

  A door closes in the distance and I stiffen. Only one person has the key.

  Congressman Michael Cocker walks into the kitchen and takes one look at us, guessing I’ve already told her. He’s stunned to see me here and his façade of self-control vanishes as his stern lips go soft, his jaw lax, green eyes narrowing in horror.

  “Michael!” Mom cries out. “Jaxson was just about to tell me some bad news. Look at his face. He’s a mess. Don’t worry. It’s not the boys. Everyone’s okay.”

  Dad and I stare at each other. His eyes darken as his jaw ticks. “I see. What were you going to say, Jaxson?”

  Images of him in the waiting room, stiffly talking to Rachel, nodding to Ellen, revealing just how deep the affair went for him, slam into my mind. My teeth grit together.

  “Jaxson, tell us!” Mom demands.

  My eyes are still locked on Dad’s. “Can I talk to you alone?” He nods and against Mom’s angry objections, we walk into the backyard past the fountain for privacy. The moon is only a sliver tonight so she can’t see us well.

  “Mom’s watching from the kitchen window,” my father mutters, glancing back, facial muscles tight.

  “You tell her, or I will.”

  His head slowly turns. “What is that going to do but bring her pain?” he rasps, desperate for me to understand.

  “She thinks Ellen Sawyer didn’t like her opinions at the Women’s Club, Dad! There were six people there today who know something Mom doesn’t. Do you think that’s fair?”

  He steps closer. “Jaxson, is it fair that I fell in love with someone else? No. It’s not fair to a lot of people. Ellen and I were—”

  “—I don’t want to hear you say her name!”

  “If your plan here is to uproot your mother’s whole world, listen for her.”

  My father’s face is rarely soft. Can’t remember a time it ever was, frankly. But right now as he looks into my eyes, he’s vulnerable.

  I have the power to take everything from him. There is a certain satisfaction in that. “You mean for you. You’re trying to protect your ass.”

  “Jaxson, please look at me like a man and not your father.” I blink at that and seeing I’m listening, he continues, “Your mother and I got married very young and she was very different from what I thought I wanted. She was sweet, innocent and good. I had fire in my blood and I was a rebel by nature. It’s where you boys get that from. We were opposites. It’s what drew us together but it almost tore us apart, too. We never fought. And to my stupid young self that meant there was no passion.”

  I cross my arms, listening.

  “Ellen. She swore and drank and smoked and laughed loudly. She was a lady, don’t get me wrong. But she rode that fine line only a lady can. I saw how you felt about Rachel today. It can’t be too hard for you to understand how I was drawn to her mother. I fell in love with Ellen, but now I know I wouldn’t have been happy with her. It was passionate, yes, but that kind of passion often comes with fights. I thought I wanted that but it would have been a hard road, which I couldn’t see until I was on it. It’s why she chose John and I chose your mother. We chose them. We could have chosen each other.” Off my look, he explains, “I love Nancy. You know I do. And I love you boys more than I love anything.”

  “So you want me not to tell her so you can keep her.”

  “Yes! And to keep her safe. It was over two decades ago, Jaxson! Do you know much this would hurt her, and it’s not even happening now? All the memories would be tainted. What you’re feeling now, and what I’ve carried in me, is terrible! Do you want your mother to feel this?”

  I hang my head, looking at him under my eyebrows. “You want me to believe Mrs. Sawyer was the only one?”

  Dad huffs through his nose. “Yes! This wasn’t the act of a man who loves being unfaithful. I hated it when it was happening. It was a love affair and I was a kid.” Shaking his head at the memory, he rasps, “I have never touched another woman since. The idea is abhorrent to me.” He runs his hands through his greying dark-blonde hair. “I knew if I told her, the family would tear apart. We need each other. You boys need us as much as we need you. Don’t take this from everyone for something that died over twenty years ago!”

  We stare at each other. I can hear his logic. I know my brothers. They would be wrecked. Everything would collapse. Struggling, I grate, “I’m going to leave it up to you, Dad. But I have lost respect for you today. And there’s only one way you can win that back.”

  His face contorts with anger, pride and pain. “Don’t make me choose between your respect or your mother’s.”
/>   Through gritted teeth, I tell him, “I believe in loyalty, Dad. You taught me that and now it means nothing.”

  “I have been loyal for over twenty years! And that I taught you boys that is the greatest achievement of my life. If you want to hate me for this, I can’t stop you. But if I had told you boys, and tore apart this family, you wouldn’t have become the men that you are.”

  Shaking my head in my painful resistance, I turn on my heel and leave him there with his demons.

  Inside, Mom is waiting and she won’t be ignored. “What is going on?!”

  “Mom.”

  “No, Jaxson! Tell me this instant what the hell is going on!”

  I meet her eyes and hold them. My throat gets tight and I whisper, “Rachel’s pregnant.”

  Mom steps back, her hands rushing to cover her mouth. “It’s yours?”

  I don’t know why I say it, but I do. “Yes.”

  Rachel

  Two weeks later.

  “Hey Roomie!” Sylvia sings as she returns from Trader Joes.

  “I’m in my new office slash bedroom!” I call back, tapping away on the keyboard. I don’t look up as she pokes her head in. “Almost done with this chapter.”

  “Well, I got you some soda water. How’re you feeling?”

  “Better today. Think that part is over,” I mutter from my story of how in Peru’s jungle we saw a snake so big it could have starred in the movie Anaconda. “Let me just finish up and I’ll come out, okay?”

  “Sure thing!” She hums her way to her kitchen, then shouts, “Did you see who called?”

  My fingers freeze over the keys. “No. Who?”

  “Ryan.”

  “Oh.” With my shoulders straightening again I keep right on working. “Probably wants money for some bill.”

  “He probably wants to know if you’re ready for that test,” she calls back.

  God. Eleven weeks along now. That test is scarier than an impending IRS audit.

  Rolling my eyes, I shout, “I told him I’m waiting until the twelfth week so he can wait with me.” I pause. “Well not with me, but...you know.”