Page 17 of Sweet Escape (Whispering Oaks Ranch #1)

The Birds and the Bees

? Man of the Year - Sam Barber

Wilder

“Hey Mama,” I whisper, smiling as I take in Emmy’s sleeping form. We upgraded her from the crib when we moved back to Oak Ridge, and it’s bittersweet to see her tiny body swallowed up by her new ‘big girl bed.’

“No problems?”

“None. She’s an angel.”

Closing the door quietly, I motion for my mama to follow me to the living room. “I won't be able to make it to family dinner tomorrow. Could we do brunch? It’s…kind of important.”

“What could possibly be so important that you’d be missing family dinner?”

“I’ll tell you tomorrow. At brunch.”

She gives me one of her lopsided smiles. “Alright, but only because you asked so nicely. Text your brothers and let them know to be at the big house at eleven o’clock.”

“Thanks, Mama.” I pull her in for a quick hug, her small frame engulfed by my much larger stature.

Mama’s always been beautiful, an outward reflection of her kind heart, and a perfect contrast to my dad’s gruff exterior.

Emmy reminds me a lot of my mama, with her blonde hair and freckled cheeks, except for her sapphire blue eyes—those are all Jess.

I still see glimpses of her in Emmy, even when I feel like I’m starting to forget.

“Have I told you lately how happy I am that you’re home?”

“Only every day.”

“Well, it’s true. I’ll see y’all tomorrow.” The screen door creaks, closing gently against the frame, and I flick off the interior lights, locking up behind me before snagging my phone from the kitchen counter.

Wilder: Family dinner is cancelled. Brunch at 11am.

Jaxon: What? Why?

Wilder: I have something important to tell y’all and it can’t wait.

Griffin: Is everything okay? Do you need an alibi? A kidney?

Wilder: Everything’s fine, dipshit. Just be at the big house at 11am.

“Do I look okay?” Olivia runs her hands over a pair of light wash jeans that hug every delectable curve of her body. She’s wearing some kind of ruffled top that nips in at her waist and flares out at the bottom, and there’s a pink ribbon tied around her low, wavy ponytail.

I wait for the click of the seatbelt, momentarily taken aback by how perfect she looks at my side. “You’re beautiful. Just breathe. My family is going to love you.”

I cast her a sidelong glance before returning my attention to the road. She props her elbow up on the console, her cheek resting against her palm, and one hand absentmindedly rubbing circles over her lower belly. It’s hard not to stare at her.

“I’ve actually met your family before,” she says. “Well… kind of.”

“Yeah?”

“Remember when I told you my dad let me take riding lessons as a kid?”

I think back over the night in the hotel, bypassing all the best parts, recalling a brief conversation about me being a cowboy. I really should’ve put two and two together.

“That was at Whispering Oaks? My dad would’ve been in charge of the lessons back then. Have we met before?”

“I… don’t think so. I might’ve seen you around, but I was only six when I started, so I wouldn’t remember you even if we had.”

I try to picture a six-year-old version of Olivia, wondering if our baby will look anything like her, and hoping they do.

I chuckle softly. “I would’ve been a fourteen-year-old little shit at the time, so I’m kinda glad you don’t remember me back then . Probably wouldn’t have been a great first impression.”

She snorts. “As if stealing my seat on the plane was any better.”

“You weren’t complaining when I was fucking you senseless that same night.”

Her cheeks flush an adorable shade of pink, but the color leeches from her face, and a wave of concern washes over me.

“Liv? Are you okay?”

She curls an arm around her stomach and lurches forward. “Gonna be sick. Pull over,” she says in a strangled voice.

I check our surroundings before carefully pulling into the nearest parking lot. She darts out of the truck and into the bushes on the side of a row of buildings. When I approach, she reaches back to stop me. “Don’t. You do not need to see this.”

“A little morning sickness never scared me, Liv. This ain’t my first rodeo.”

She opens her mouth to speak but lurches forward again, the sound of her retching filling the silence between us.

Ignoring her pleas, I step up behind her, skating my hand up and down her spine in a soothing pattern. “Feeling better?”

“Really glad I had my hair tied back,” she says. “Could you do me a favor?”

“Anything.”

“Run inside and get some mouthwash. Don’t really wanna roll up to family brunch smelling like I’ve been throwing up in the parking lot.”

I hadn’t even glanced around long enough to realize where we parked, but we’re just one door down from the pharmacy at the end of Main Street. “I’ll be right back.”

It takes less than two minutes for me to dash inside, locate the mouthwash, and head back out to find Liv in the same place I left her.

I hand her the bag and take a step back, giving her s ome privacy.

She steps into view a few minutes later, looking much better than she did when she bolted from the vehicle.

“Ready to go?”I ask.

She nods. “Did you buy out their entire stock?” She hands back the bag with five extra travel-size bottles of mouthwash.

“Thought it might be a good idea to keep some on hand for emergencies.”

“That’s… weirdly thoughtful,” she says.

“Put that on my resume. Wilder Hayes: Single dad, full-time farrier, part-time ranch hand, weirdly thoughtful.”

“Nice ass and looks good in a backward baseball cap,” she murmurs, barely audible if not for my proximity.

“You think I have a nice ass?”

“You know you do.”

“Feeling’s mutual, Cupcake.” I make a show of bending backward to check her out, and she giggles.

When we stop beside my truck, I cage her against the passenger door, one arm resting over her head. “It’s even nicer when you’re wearing my shirt with nothing else underneath.”

Her minty fresh breath fans over my beard as I whisper into her ear, and her chest brushes against mine with each stuttered inhale, letting me know my words hit their intended target. She’s just as affected by this thing between us as I am, even after all those weeks apart.

It would take barely an inch to close the distance and seal my mouth over hers, and it takes all of my resolve to resist. I want Olivia more than I’d like to admit, but there are already far too many complications in my life to add a new relationship to the mix, even if she is having my baby.

I reluctantly step away. “We better get going. Mama’s cooking up a feast, and we’re already running late. ”

When I pull onto the road, Liv’s demeanor shifts. I can’t tell whether she wants to jump my bones or leap out of the truck. The c loser we get to the ranch, the more it’s looking like option two.

Her panicked voice fills the silence, one worst-case scenario after another in quick succession. “What if they don’t like me? What if they think I did this on purpose? Oh God. What if I get sick at the table?”

“I’ll be right beside you the whole time. If you feel like you need to be sick, squeeze my thigh and I’ll get you out of there as fast as I can.”

“What if?—”

“No more what ifs. We’re gonna go in there, have some good food, share our happy news, then answer whatever questions my nosy ass family asks… within reason.” I place my hand palm up on the console, offering her the option to take it.

She hesitates for a moment and weaves her fingers between mine.

Before long, I’m turning through the ranch gate onto the gravel drive, rolling down the window to wave at some of the ranch hands as I pass.

I park near the big house and gesture for Olivia to stay put, then round my truck to help her out just as my dad comes riding up on Copper.

Olivia’s grip on my hand tightens, and her posture grows rigid as he approaches.

“Mornin’ son. Mama didn’t tell me you’d be bringin’ company to brunch. ”

“She doesn’t know. Pops, this is Olivia.”

He practically beams at her when she lifts her hand in a tentative wave.

“I remember. Taught this one how to ride when she was just a little thing. Gotta say… never thought I’d see the day when little Livie Sullivan would buy my son at auction.

Surely you aren’t using your family brunch as a date?

I taught you better than that, Wilder Hayes. ”

Olivia giggles, visibly relaxing as the Russell Hayes charm wins her over—works every damn time .

“Very funny, Pops,” I say. “We’ll explain when we get inside. Jax and Griff here yet?”

“Everyone’s waitin’ in the kitchen. I’ll just turn this old boy out and be right in.”

Without a second thought, I grab Olivia by the hand and tug her along with me up the cobblestone path to the big house, only releasing her long enough to hold open the door and usher her inside.

As soon as the storm door slams behind us, a tiny ball of energy comes rushing into the foyer, with a milk mustache on her face and her hair still in the two uneven pigtails I attempted this morning.

I crouch down just in time to catch her, wrapping her in a tight hug.

Emmy rests her head between my neck and shoulder, cradling her sippy cup in the crook of her arm as she stares at Olivia.

“Hey, Pretty Girl,” Olivia says. “Remember me?”

Emmy nods against my chest, but she doesn’t speak. She takes a little while to open up to people, but I know she’ll be smitten with Olivia in no time. How could she not be? Liv is a ray of sunshine even on her worst day.

“Hungry, Emmy girl?” I ask.

Emmy nods again.

“Let’s go see what Gigi’s cookin’ up.”

The big house is curated country charm, exactly what you’d expect from Evelyn Hayes.

Much like the rest of the house, the foyer is bright and airy, with white walls and warm wood accents.

A fresh bouquet of flowers sits on the entry table, changed out every week with new blooms from Mama’s greenhouse.