Chasing Trouble in Texas

by Delores Fossen

  Austin adjusted the covers and kissed them both on their heads while McCall put the book away. They tiptoed out of the room and eased the door shut.

  “Thank you for doing that,” he whispered. Then he debated if he should tell her she didn’t have to feel obligated to do it again.

  “It was fun,” she said, but she was rubbing her hands along the sides of her dress, making him think that there’d been something uncomfortable to go along with the fun.

  Austin didn’t want there to be an awkwardness between them because of the cards. Or the moments they’d shared after the cards. A connection, he supposed. Coupled with lust. Most would have considered that a recipe for a mighty fine start.

  “I don’t know if I’m doing the right thing with Avery and Gracie,” McCall went on. “I mean, it’s a fine line. I want to be with them, but I don’t want them to think I’m trying to replace their mother. Or that I’m worming my way into their lives.”

  She wasn’t exactly babbling, but it was close enough.

  “Would it help if I put on the tutu?” he asked.

  Judging from the way she blinked, she hadn’t been expecting that question.

  “The tutu will make you smile,” he explained.

  The breath she released seemed to be one of relief, and he got that smile from her. It still had a little edge of nerves to it, but she was relaxing some.

  “Come outside with me,” he said, taking the baby monitor from the kitchen counter. They wouldn’t be able to go too far since he wanted to hear the girls if they woke up, but the monitor had a good enough range to cover even if McCall and he decided to walk down to the barn.

  He shoved the monitor in his back pocket, took out two long-neck beers and motioned for her to follow him through the kitchen and onto the back porch. It was still hot—Texas summer nights usually were—but there was a breeze. Just enough to cool things off a little and maybe keep the mosquitoes and gnats away.

  Austin handed McCall her beer, set his and the baby monitor on the railing, and he looked out at his place. To him, there wasn’t a prettier view on earth what with the milky white moonlight on the pastures and the horses grazing in the distance. So many stars. And the lightning bugs sparkled on and off, putting on a show for them.

  While there was the smell of feed, the horses and grass, he also got a whiff of the gardenia bushes that his mom had planted for him shortly after he’d bought the place. The flowers stirred with McCall’s own scent, which only added to his “nothing prettier” opinion.

  Man, she was beautiful.

  The moonlight was on her, too, angled just right as if to say, Hey, look at this, look at her. So, Austin did some looking.

  “Cicadas,” McCall said, having a sip of her beer.

  “Yep.” That rattling buzz was distinctive along with being a little early. The cicadas didn’t usually come out until July, but they were serenading them tonight. “They’re looking for a mate,” he said almost idly.

  Then realized it probably hadn’t sounded so idle to McCall. It maybe sounded like a lame come-on, but at least she was smiling when she turned to him.

  “Ditto for the frogs,” he added when he heard one croak.

  “And the lightning bugs?” She was still smiling and moving in closer to him.

  “Definitely looking for a mate. The horses probably are, too. Don’t look out in the pasture if you don’t want to catch a glimpse of horse sex.”

  She leaned in as if she might press her smiling mouth to him but no kiss. McCall just slid a long look over him. “I’d rather catch of a glimpse of you shirtless coming out of your barn.”

  Surprised and pleased, Austin slid a look over her, as well. “That really did it for you, huh?”

  “It really did it for me,” she verified. She moved in closer, and he was pretty sure there would have been a kiss this time, but he moved away from her and barreled off the porch.

  “I’ll be right back,” he said, running to the barn.

  He heard her laugh as he peeled off his shirt along the way. Austin didn’t linger even a second in the barn. The moment he was inside, he turned around and started back toward her. He did linger this time, but that was only because he wanted to savor the way she was looking at him.

  Yeah, there was some definite hunger in her eyes now.

  And some definite hardening in his jeans. He was sporting a full-fledged erection by the time he stepped back on the porch. Austin hooked his arm around her waist, pulled her to him and pressed her against his hard-on.

  Then he kissed her.

  The taste and feel of her was even better than he’d thought it would be, and his expectations had been mighty high when it came to McCall. After all, she was his fantasy, too.

  He deepened the kiss, letting the heat from it slide them right into a slow, lazy sway that caused her middle to brush against his. Nice and more than a little mind-blowing. Austin figured it would be a whole lot mind-blowing in a hurry, but then McCall pulled away from him.

  “I can’t have sex with you inside the house, not with the girls in there,” she said in an almost frantic whisper.

  Austin shrugged, pulled her back to him. “Then we’ll have sex here on the porch. I have a condom in my wallet.”

  “Here?” Her voice squeaked, and her gaze fired around.

  “No one other than the horses for miles around. Who knows, maybe this will be part of your new fantasy. Like shower sex.”

  When her gaze came back to his, he saw her process that. Saw the arousal creep back in when she slid his body against his. All in all, that was the perfect move to make. Another big green light. And yeah, they might end up with splinters in their butts, perhaps a mosquito bite or two, but Austin figured that’d be totally worth it because of what was about to happen.

  And what was about to happen was sex.

  He didn’t play around the next time he kissed her. Austin took hold of the back of her neck, moving her so that the kiss had the right angle. And he touched, too. No sense not going for all the bases at once. He ran his hand between them, cupped her breasts and played with her nipples.

  If McCall had any doubts about what was happening, they seemed to vanish right then, right there. She took hold of the back of his neck, dragging him down even closer to her. Not that getting much closer was possible, but McCall took care of any gaps in contact. While he had her mouth for supper, she made sure every possible inch of them was touching.

  Touching was good. Very good. But, of course, it only caused the heat to soar. Austin cursed himself again when he felt that urgent need to hurry. He really wanted to take his time with her. And maybe that could happen. Once he had sated this first fireball, anyway.

  He caught on to her, lifting her so that she hooked her legs around his waist, and without breaking the kiss, he backed them toward the porch swing. It squeaked and lurched when he dropped down onto it, but all in all, it put them in a good position with McCall on his lap.

  And the battle began.

  Since he wasn’t wearing a shirt, she went after the zipper of his jeans. He had a lot more to do to rid them of any barriers, but her loose dress was easy enough to pull off over her head. He sent it flying, opened the front hook of her bra and would have gotten his tongue on her nipples if she hadn’t managed to get her hand in his pants first.

  His eyes crossed.

  He cursed it.

  And he loved every bit of what she was doing to him.

  He’d never thought much of hand jobs when the real deal was available, but McCall was carrying this to a new level. A level that Austin had to stop, though, if he stood any chance of giving her a climax the old-fashioned way. Well, as old-fashioned as you could get considering they were in a porch swing. Also, considering that he was keeping an ear on the monitor in case either of the girls woke up.

  Austin eased aside McCall’s strok
ing, massaging hand that was sliding up and down the hard length of him. He skipped the nipple kisses, too, and went after her panties. It wasn’t easy to maneuver, and he nearly pitched them forward and out of the swing, but he finally managed to shimmy the panties off her. Then he did some turnabout, fair-play stuff, by reaching between her legs and sliding his fingers into all that wet, tight heat.

  She froze a moment, threw back her head and made a sound he wished he could bottle. It would no doubt be a cure for impotence and low sex drive. It sure as hell speared his own sex drive through the stratosphere.

  “Condom,” he reminded her. But he managed to keep up the stroking while he fished his wallet from his back pocket.

  In fact, all that wiggling around might have only added to McCall’s pleasure. By the time he got on the condom, he could feel her muscles tighten around his fingers.

  Then tighten around him when he thrust inside her.

  McCall was definitely a dirty talker when she got this hot, something that clashed with the good-girl image she’d had way back when. And man, she could pump her hips and ride him hard.

  Just exactly the way Austin liked to be ridden.

  Of course, since this was McCall, he doubted if there’d be anything she could do that would cool him down. Nope. She just kept it up, slip-sliding over his hard-on until he was ready to beg for mercy. She gave him mercy, all right. When the climax hit her, those slip-sliding muscles started to tighten, squeeze and give him something a whole lot better than a hand job.

  And Austin gave it right back to her.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  MCCALL PARKED AT the end of the driveway and hoped the sound of her car engine didn’t wake up Boo and Granny Em. It was barely five in the morning, much too early for them to be up yet.

  Much too early for her to be out so late, McCall mentally added.

  She hadn’t intended to fall asleep at Austin’s, but that’s exactly what’d happened after they’d come in from the porch and snuggled up together on his sofa. It’d been wonderful. An amazing night that she wasn’t sure she deserved. However, she’d take it and any other nights like that Austin could give her.

  Easing her car door shut, McCall walked to the porch. And stopped in her tracks when she spotted the person curled up by the door.

  “Cody Joe,” she muttered like an oath, and she stormed up the steps to give him an earful that would almost certainly wake up Boo and Granny Em. But when she got closer, she saw that it wasn’t the idiot bull rider, after all.

  It was her sister Hadley.

  Hadley stirred, her heavily made-up eyes opening. She sat up, stretching and yawning at the same time. The bangles and bracelets on her wrists and ankles jangled as she pulled her knees to her chest and stared at McCall.

  “Morning,” Hadley greeted, her voice sounding like a rusty gate.

  “Good morning,” McCall cautiously said, and she went closer to have a better look. No signs of injury, nor was there the smell of booze. Then again, she’d never known Hadley to be a heavy drinker.

  “What are you doing here?” McCall asked, and that question not only applied to why Hadley was in Lone Star Ridge but also why she’d been sleeping on the porch. The front door likely wouldn’t have been locked, and even if had been, Hadley would have known that Granny Em hid a key in the geranium plant to the right of the door.

  “Didn’t want to wake up Em,” Hadley answered. “I flew a red-eye into San Antonio, caught a taxi here and had the driver drop me off at the end of the road. I got in about two hours ago.”

  Her sister stood, shaking out the wrinkles of her loose black pants that had a silver stripe down the side. No, not a stripe. Interlocking snakes with lethal-looking sparkly fangs. It was possibly one of Hadley’s own creations since she was a costume designer. One with “out there” taste in what she came up with for movies, ad campaigns and even clients looking for something unique.

  There were more of those silver fangs woven into strands of her long hair that was dyed as black as the pants. Those fangs clanged as much as her other jewelry, which would qualify as legion. Triple earrings in each lobe, necklaces and rings along with chains on her pants pockets and the pocket of her sleeveless black leather shirt.

  “Walk of shame, huh?” Hadley said, tipping her head to McCall’s disheveled clothes.

  “Yes,” McCall admitted.

  Then McCall went to her sister and pulled her into a hug. Hugs were automatic with Sunny, something she didn’t have to think twice about, but she always “thought” with Hadley. As usual, her sister went a little stiff. That didn’t stop McCall, though. She held on.

  And she got flooded with a boatload of childhood memories.

  So many good ones. Others not so good.

  Once, they’d been so close in part because they’d had to stand together under their mother’s manipulations and the prying eyes of the camera crew that followed them seemingly everywhere. But that had changed around the time they’d hit puberty. Around the time that Hadley had started really living up to the name the producers of Little Cowgirls had given her.

  Badly Hadley.

  The name had always seemed like a cartoon outlaw to McCall, but it had been one that Hadley had seemingly taken to heart and tried to live up, or down, to. Hadley had acted out by cutting school, breaking curfew, slipping out at night and finally by getting caught riding in a stolen car with her friends. She’d been arrested, and while she hadn’t actually spent time in lockup, she did get a juvie record out of it. That in turn had gotten the show canceled.

  “Come inside,” McCall said when she finally let go of her sister. “I can fix us some coffee, and you can tell me why you’re here.”

  “Tit-gate,” Hadley said, causing McCall to turn back and look at her. “I guess you haven’t been reading any tabloids?” Hadley added.

  “No. I’ve been avoiding them since I know there’ll likely be stories in them about me and the strip club I own.”

  “Yep, there are stories, all right. Who would have thought Good Girl McCall would end up owning a place called Peekaboo?”

  “Certainly not me,” McCall said under her breath. “It’s caused me and everyone around me some embarrassment.” And she would always regret that even if it didn’t seem to bother Austin.

  “I might have taken some of the publicity pressure off you,” Hadley explained a moment later. “A costume I designed for Myla Livingston had a malfunction during her live performance at a big-deal charity ball.”

  McCall knew that Myla Livingston was a big-name pop singer. Practically a legend now that she was in her forties. And she was also a diva with a temper and a serious mean streak. Considering that Hadley had called this Tit-gate, it wasn’t hard for McCall to figure out what part of the costume had malfunctioned or that it’d caused tabloid-worthy publicity.

  “I’m sorry,” McCall said, keeping her voice to a whisper when they went inside. “Is it going to cause a lot of trouble for you?”

  Hadley made a sound of agreement, confirming it had indeed already caused her trouble but also blowing it off with the same breath. McCall doubted, though, that it was anything to blow off if news of it had hit the tabloids. Something like that could hurt Hadley’s business, and Myla could maybe even get her blackballed.

  When they made it to the kitchen, Hadley sat at the table, stretched again and pushed her tousled hair from her face. McCall got the coffee started.

  “You were with Austin?” Hadley asked. Then she added, “Hayes told me that Austin and you were getting back together.”

  McCall automatically frowned. “We might get together,” she clarified, though she wouldn’t mention that she’d now had sex with him twice along with some heavy fooling around in his truck. “We need to take things slow because of his twin girls.”

  Hadley made another of those sounds of agreement, but this one had a slightly diffe
rent edge to it. “I always thought you’d be a good fit with Austin. The same with Sunny and Shaw. Sunny’s been in love with him ever since she sprouted tits.”

  Maybe even before then. McCall didn’t have a single childhood memory of Sunny’s love interest that didn’t include Shaw. Unlike Austin and her. She’d lost the dice roll to Zoey, and that had been the end of that.

  Well, until now.

  “Some people thought for certain that you’d get together with Leyton,” McCall pointed out. She poured them both a cup of coffee and sat at the table. “There was that hot make-out session you had with him at the back of the barn, the one that got caught on camera.”

  “Yeah, that.” Hadley blew at her coffee while she stared down into the cup. “Leyton got all embarrassed about it.”

  McCall couldn’t disagree about that. Even as a teenager, Leyton had always seemed to walk the straight and narrow. Maybe because he didn’t consider himself a real Jameson since he’d been born out of wedlock. In many people’s minds, he’d always be just another of Marty Jameson’s love children. It didn’t matter that Lenore had legally adopted him or that Cait, Austin and Shaw thought of him as their brother. Leyton had always seemed to have that need to be perfect and not cause any waves that would disgrace a family name.

  Ironic since Marty disgraced it often.

  “I doubt Leyton has any fond memories of that night,” Hadley remarked.

  No. Because the cameraman had caught the sixteen-year-old Leyton playing a raunchy game of “frisk the suspect” with the town’s bad girl, Hadley.

  Granny Em had tried to stop the footage from being aired. So had McCall, Sunny, Leyton and Hadley. But in the end their mother had won out because she still had the control to decide what would or wouldn’t make it into the episode. Anything that was embarrassing to the triplets or Hayes automatically made the cut because their mother saw that as a way of boosting ratings. It hadn’t helped either that Leyton and his parents had signed release forms at the beginning of that season of Little Cowgirls. Forms that had given the producers the right to use any footage of Leyton.