was used to hard work and long days. But it was his face. Long lashes that were a dusty goldish brown framed those rich hazel eyes that had seen so much. There was a haunted quality to Ethan Colton, and she had no idea if he even realized it.
Shadows lurked in those hazel depths, and she desperately wanted to be the one to chase them away.
The hand that covered her forearm tightened, and Lizzie became conscious of the seconds ticking by. Of the sound of their breathing, rising in tempo, matched in rhythm. She couldn’t want this. She had her child to think of, and he or she needed to be her full focus right now.
But heaven help her, she couldn’t look away.
And then there was no choice as Ethan lowered his head, his mouth barely touching hers. Her breath lodged in her chest as her entire body went still.
Did she dare?
And then her arms were around his neck and she couldn’t have pulled away if the barn had risen in flames behind them.
Ethan’s hands shifted to her hips, turning her fully from the fence rails to stand flush against his body. Their child pressed between them, a vivid, tangible reminder that they’d created life.
The past months faded away as his lips met hers. Every ounce of pent-up longing and need seemed to shudder through her as Lizzie gave herself over to the moment. The man she’d dreamed of through more years than she wanted to count was here.
And she was in his arms.
A soft sigh drifted up her throat, the unconscious exhalation an interpretation of all that was in her heart. That sigh seemed to say: Finally.
His tongue met the barrier of her lips and she opened for him, the act of possession unmistakable as he slipped inside. His fingers clutched at her hips, pulling her even more tightly against him, and even with their child between them, she could feel the need that tightened his body with the same driving force that consumed her.
Lizzie lost all sense of her surroundings as her world narrowed and expanded all at once. All she could feel was Ethan. All she could think was Ethan.
All she wanted was Ethan.
The boy she remembered had become a hard man, tough and strong, his body as unyielding as the land that was his.
Yet just like the vivid blooms that found a way to flourish, even in the hardest earth, Ethan had made something of himself. Had followed his dream and his love of animals to create a life for himself.
A home.
Lizzie clung to him a bit tighter, allowing him to deepen the kiss even further, as one thought thundered louder than all else.
She wanted that home with him.
It was that truth that finally had her pulling away. With determined steps, she tore herself away from the only force on earth that made her forget herself.
“Lizzie—” His lips were wet, his hazel eyes almost black with the heavy dilation of his pupils as he stared at her.
“I—” She broke off, the question in his eyes almost powerful enough to have her moving right back into those strong arms.
Almost.
The baby chose that moment to kick, the swift punch of a tiny foot under her rib cage enough to break her fully out of Ethan’s thrall. Her hands went to her stomach, and she winced as their child aimed one more field goal toward her ribs.
“What is it?”
“It must be three o’clock.”
“What? Why?”
“The baby’s active. He starts like clockwork every day at the same time.”
“He?”
She offered up a rueful smile. “Yesterday I called it a she all day. I trade off every day.”
His gaze drifted down over her stomach, and she saw something cross his face before he took a firm step back.
“What is it?”
“I... I mean, do you mind if I—” He extended a hand, and she gripped his palm firmly in hers before he gave himself a chance to pull away.
Shifting away the material of his thick vest, she placed Ethan’s hand high over her abdomen and was rewarded with another kick. His fingers flexed against her skin, the wide press of his palm nearly covering half the width of her as a look of sheer awe had his mouth widening into a smile.
“I think we’ve got a UT football scholarship in our future.” He tightened his hand once more as the baby shot out another foot jab. “Feel that kick.”
“Or a Rockette.” She smiled as the image of thick football pads faded into a sequined dance outfit. Lizzie knew their comments were steeped in society’s views on girls and boys, and she’d had several months to admit to herself she wasn’t fully immune to the ingrained pull of baby culture. Everything she looked at in the stores was pink or blue, a wave of color determined to stamp identity from the very earliest age.
Conscious of that, she couldn’t resist poking at whatever image had settled in Ethan’s mind. “Maybe we’ll have the first girl kicker at UT.”
He smiled down at her. “Or a cowboy–slash–ballet dancer who wows them on the New York stage.”
She welcomed her child’s interests, whatever they might be, but hadn’t realized how relieved she was to hear his unspoken agreement. “You’d be okay with that?”
“My child can be whatever he or she wants to be. I’ll be proud.” His hand cradled her stomach as his gaze settled on hers, intense and unwavering. “Always.”
Lizzie nodded, not sure what to say. She’d thought to tease out any inherent bias and instead had her game turned on her in the most impactful of ways. While she had no doubt Ethan Colton would be an amazing father, to actually hear the pride that already filled his voice left her with the insane urge to start bawling right there in the middle of his ranch.
Unwilling to analyze those emotions too closely, she closed them up and vowed not to take them back out until she was alone. She already knew her attraction to Ethan hovered way too close to the surface. She did not need to add hormones and the urge to weep every five minutes to her list of emotional sins where Ethan Colton was concerned.
He removed his hand from her stomach, a gentle reluctance painting his features before he put a few additional steps between them. He shifted on the balls of his feet, his gaze drifting out over the paddock. The fierce conviction that had painted his features as he made promises for their child’s future faded as his gaze followed Dream’s easy progression around the practice ring.
Their quiet moments drifted off on the light afternoon breeze. The strong, gentle man who had been so present and in the moment with her had gone, leaving the hard, stoic face he showed the world standing in his place.
Lizzie wanted to bring that other Ethan back—wanted to pull him away from the cloud of memories that seemed to perpetually hang around him, no matter what the situation—but she kept her distance.
It wasn’t her place.
And while it nearly killed her to acknowledge that fact, carrying his child didn’t change anything. She and Ethan Colton didn’t have a relationship. For her own emotional protection, she’d do well to remember that a baby couldn’t banish the demons he carried inside.
“There are storm clouds in your eyes, Lizzie.”
The quiet observation pulled her from her own thoughts, and she stared up at him. The questions in her mind fought to come to light, but she held them back, offering up a small shrug instead.
“It’s nothing but a trick of the light.”
* * *
The woman stood in the distance and stared at Ethan Colton and Lizzie Conner. Damn stubborn fools. It didn’t take the high-powered