Betting on Grace

by Nicole Edwards

  Not that it was any of her business or anything.

  But right now, Grace wasn’t worried about her sisters, or even the impending conversations to come. No, she was just interested in finishing her dinner.

  Sitting in Grant’s recliner, she watched the television, not really paying any attention to what was on the screen.

  She might’ve been fully vested in Duck Dynasty, the show that had been on the television when she’d arrived, had she not been preoccupied. Nope, her apologies would have to go to the Robertson family for her lack of interest because the moans and groans coming from the bathroom were enough to distract her from the best show, and in her humble opinion — crazy as it may sound — this one was fairly decent.

  Not to mention, the two men currently getting hot and heavy in the shower were igniting a torrent of desire within her without even realizing it.

  When she’d arrived a few minutes ago, three to-go containers in hand, she’d wanted to surprise Grant. She hadn’t known exactly where Lane was, but based on their conversation a short while ago when she had passed him in the stables, she’d hoped he would make his way over to Grant’s before the night was out.

  She wasn’t disappointed.

  Clearly, Grant wasn’t, either.

  As much as she wanted to interrupt them in the shower by joining them, she had opted to give them a little time together. She knew they needed it. Lane had an uncanny effect on Grant, and knowing Grant’s current mood, leaving the two of them alone would only benefit her in the end.

  “Gracie? What the…”

  Grace glanced up at the doorway to Grant’s bathroom and smiled. “Hi.”

  “What… What are you doin’ here?” Grant asked, looking confused and possibly a tad guilty.

  “Eating dinner. What are you doin’?” she asked shamelessly, taking a bite of macaroni and cheese while she admired the nearly naked cowboy standing in the doorway in nothing but a towel.

  God had taken out all the stops when he’d made Grant. Tall and lean, the man had the perfect amount of muscles — not enough that he was bulky but plenty to show just how much hard work he put in each day — as well as a face that could’ve graced one of those sexy men’s magazines if he’d been inclined to take that route in life. His dark hair was just a little long, mussed from his shower, and the stubble that lined his prominent jaw made him appear that much more rugged. From where she sat, she could see the crinkles at the corners of his magnificent blue eyes, proof that he smiled a lot — something he wasn’t doing right then, she noted.

  “I was…” Grant turned to look behind him, probably at Lane, if she had to guess, before turning his attention back to her.

  “I heard,” she said with a grin, doing her best to keep her eyes north of his chest, which was a lot harder than it looked. “I didn’t want to interrupt. You sounded like you were enjoying yourself.”

  About that time, Lane came waltzing out of the bathroom, only he wasn’t wearing a towel. Nope, Lane Miller was wearing nothing more than a sexy smile, and he looked mouthwatering as he did it. The man’s confidence level was to be admired. Clothes were merely an accessory to one of the finest male bodies she’d ever seen. Similar to Grant, Lane was tall, but he was broader, his muscles a little more honed. He wasn’t necessarily bulky, he was just … big.

  “Hey, doll,” Lane greeted with a smirk, making his way over to her, his enormous thighs bunching as he moved. “Where’s mine?”

  Not that she was looking much at his thighs, but her eyes were wandering in that general direction, so she saw them, too.

  Lane’s deep laugh brought her eyes up toward his face. He was lifting one dark eyebrow at her, grinning mischievously.

  “Huh?” she asked, trying to remember what he’d just said.

  “Where’s mine?” he repeated.

  Grace nodded toward the kitchen table, her eyes continuing to rake over Lane’s impressive form. “On the table,” she said.

  “Thanks. I already ate, but I recently worked up one hell of an appetite,” he said with a rough chuckle, leaning down and kissing her on the forehead.

  Grace returned her gaze to the other cowboy in the room, still standing in the doorway, looking at her as though she’d lost her mind.

  “Problems?” she asked, taking another bite, pretending not to be affected by the two very naked men. The skimpy white towel hanging around Grant’s narrow waist was doing very little to stifle her imagination.

  “I … uh…”

  “It’s ok,” she told him, knowing exactly what he was thinking. “I would’ve joined you, but the shower is awfully small.”

  “Uh…”

  Yep, the guy was at a loss for words, and Grace knew it was because he was freaked out that she’d walked in on them. It wasn’t like she didn’t know they were going to be together if she wasn’t there. She didn’t mind. Well, actually, she would’ve preferred to watch, because holy freaking hell, they were hot when they were together, as she had learned the first time she’d stumbled upon them kissing in Grant’s kitchen. And ever since, she’d purposely snuck glances at the two of them when they were making out. Even though she was usually there in the middle of it all, she wasn’t naïve enough to believe that would always be the case.

  And they shouldn’t expect that with her, either.

  Time was in short supply these days, and, yes, they were all trying to scratch an itch.

  Her included.

  “What’re you watchin’?” Lane asked as he made his way to the other recliner, still as naked as the day he was born. Did the man not know just what he did to her? It was tough enough to keep her hands to herself when he was fully clothed, but like that… Lord, she was in trouble.

  Remembering that he’d asked a question, Grace darted her eyes toward the television, hoping to see the end of the Duck Dynasty episode, or at least something that she might recognize right then so she’d have an answer for him. It wouldn’t do for them to think she’d been sitting there listening to them getting busy in the shower.

  That would be too much for their enormous male egos to handle.

  “If I were you, I’d grab some food while you can,” Lane told Grant, obviously moving past the question that he’d left unanswered.

  “Why’s that?” Grant asked, standing there looking back and forth between the two of them.

  “Have you seen her? You’re gonna need your strength to keep up with this cowgirl. And just so you’re aware, I ain’t waitin’ for you.”

  Grace laughed at Lane’s comment. He was watching the television as though it were the most interesting thing in the world, all while chowing down and mouthing off to Grant.

  That was one of the things she loved about Lane. He was always smiling, always optimistic, and always playful. Sometimes to the point of irritation, but she loved him all the more for it.

  Since she’d heard about Grant’s pissy attitude, and his need to hide out in Cody’s shop, from more than one person that day, she knew that Lane had already worked his magic, apparently in the shower.

  With a towel still wrapped firmly around his waist, one hand gripping it tightly, Grant padded across the room to the kitchen table and retrieved the last of the foam boxes of food and a plastic fork. When he returned to the living room, he looked down at her.

  Grace merely smiled up at him.

  Yes, she knew she was in his chair.

  She also knew that if he wanted her to move, he was going to have to make her. She made sure that her smile told him as much.

  “Aww, hell,” Lane added, “she’s in rare form tonight.”

  Grant laughed; it was a little strained, but as far as Grace was concerned, it counted.

  “You can sit with me,” she told him sweetly. “But you’ve gotta drop the towel first.”

  Grant’s ocean-blue eyes flared big and bright, making Grace’s girl parts stand up and dance. It went without saying that she longed for these moments when they could spend time together. And no, she didn’t eve
n care if they were naked or not — although she would take naked anytime they offered because, Lord have mercy, they were the hottest cowboys in Texas, and what red-blooded woman wouldn’t want to ogle them every chance she got?

  “That right?” Grant’s voice was rough and low, causing a gentle hum to start in Grace’s core.

  “Yes, sir,” she teased, scooting over to one side of the chair, leaving hardly enough room for half a person, much less a big man like Grant. But it was worth it just for the expression on his face.

  “Damn, man,” Lane grumbled. “Don’t you know that stalling ain’t the right way to treat a lady?”

  Grant spared Lane a look but then returned his eyes to her.

  “I’ll lose the towel if you lose the shirt.”

  Playful. She liked that.

  “Fine,” she said unflinchingly, holding her container up for him to take. When he retrieved it from her hands, she deftly unhooked the buttons on her sleeveless blouse and then slid the cotton down her arms, leaving it to pool on the chair behind her. “That better?”

  “Lose the bra while you’re at it,” Lane stated around a mouthful of food.

  Grace laughed but did as he suggested. Only because she didn’t want the mood to change, and seeing Grant, she knew he was hovering on the edge of that bad mood he’d been in for the last few days. She’d do anything to keep a smile on his face, including an impromptu striptease in the middle of his living room.

  Her intentions had actually been good coming over here. In the back of her mind, she had anticipated a little hanky-panky, maybe not to this degree, but she couldn’t lie, it was certainly on her agenda. Although, she did intend to talk to him later, but hopefully, if she was lucky, they’d all be in bed at that point, and between her and Lane, they could keep Grant from running away.

  Until then…

  “Fuck,” Lane whispered, and Grace could feel the heat of his gaze on her now-naked breasts. “What the hell. You might as well make it an even playing field,” Lane added. “Take it all off.”

  With her eyes still locked with Grant’s, Grace did as Lane suggested. She stood, toed off her boots, and then peeled her jeans and panties down her legs, stepping one foot out of them. Before she could get them completely off her ankles, Grant hurled himself into the chair, both containers of food still in his hand and a grin the size of Texas on his face.

  “Now you can sit on my lap,” Grant informed her.

  Grace reached for her food as though it was normal for her to be naked in the living room with two smoldering-hot cowboys. Pretending that it didn’t affect her half as much as it really did, she situated herself on Grant’s lap, purposely shifting so that his semi-hard cock was nestled at the juncture of her thighs.

  “That better?” she asked audaciously, looking over her shoulder at him.

  Grant’s response was nothing more than a grunt, which made her laugh.

  For the next few minutes, Grace did her best to eat. The only reason she managed was because she was starving, and she knew if she was going to keep up with these two, she needed all the nourishment she could get.

  Chapter Nine

  Mercy made her way into the dining room after managing to circumvent Hope to the best of her abilities. It wasn’t easy, mind you. When Hope wanted to talk about something, that woman was as aggressive as Budweiser with a bone.

  Too bad Mercy wasn’t in the mood to chat.

  At least not with Hope. Or rather, at least not about work.

  As for anyone else, more power to them. If they were brave enough…

  “Hey, Merce, how’s it goin’?” Jennifer Brathow called as Mercy stepped into the short line at the table piled high with food. As late as it was, she was just surprised there was still food left at all.

  “It’s goin’, Jenn,” Mercy answered, pasting on a glowing smile.

  Jennifer was one of the newest members of the staff at Dead Heat Ranch, and the woman seemed to be coming into her own just in the few short months that she’d been with them. In fact, hiring Jennifer, and her ensuing employment, had been one of the hottest topics of conversation for as long as Mercy could remember.

  It had nothing to do with how pretty Jenn was, or how smoking-hot her body was, or how well she filled out a pair of jeans, either — which was usually the conversation hot point where the wranglers were concerned. Not to mention, no one seemed to care that the woman was oddly young for the position she filled after Grace had fired their last cook for being lazy, but at twenty-four years old, the woman clearly knew what she was doing.

  Nope, aside from being pretty, with her short auburn hair, sparkling ice-green eyes, and a complexion that would make even the most flawless cover model envious, Jennifer had an advantage over the last pretty girl who’d been hired at the ranch because Jenn knew how to cook. And as Mercy had learned, the fastest way to a wrangler’s heart was definitely through his stomach.

  She had no idea how Jennifer did it, but the woman even managed to get the staff to eat healthier, without them knowing it. According to Dead Heat Ranch’s new head chef, the garden she was cultivating in a newly sectioned-off area near the main house was going to make coming up with meals considerably easier as well. And cheaper, something Faith loved about the woman.

  And yes, Mercy had informed Jennifer from the beginning that she had to make her efforts as transparent as possible because the men loved their southern food more than they loved their wives and girlfriends. Okay, maybe not entirely, but damn close.

  Jennifer had been a good sport about it all, taking every suggestion Mercy offered in stride, and now she fit in as though she’d been part of the family all of her life.

  Since part of Mercy’s job was to ensure that the kitchen ran flawlessly, she’d been spending quite a bit of time with Jennifer and the few wranglers that Jenn had claimed as her permanent kitchen help. No longer was the kitchen a place people rotated in and out of, and surprisingly no one seemed to have a problem with that.

  Oh, and everyone — a lot of stress on every and one — was enthralled with the red-headed, green-eyed little boy who was part of a package deal where Jennifer, single mother of one, was concerned. Joey Brathow, the four-year-old ray of sunshine that had descended on Dead Heat Ranch when they had hired his mother, kept everyone on their toes.

  “How’s your little one?” Mercy asked as she grabbed a cornbread muffin and one of the small foil squares containing butter. Every time she saw one of those things, she thought about the story her father told about how Mercy had munched on them when she was little. Usually without bread.

  Yuck.

  Thank God she’d grown up, at least when it came to her preferences in food. As for everything else, well, she was doing her best not to grow up at all. Or so she was told.

  “He’s better, thanks. I took him to the doctor, and just like Zach thought, it’s just a cold, but boy, he scared me there for a coupla days. Thank you so much for helpin’ out and watchin’ him.”

  Yes, Zachary McCallum, their resident medic and overall jack-of-all-trades, had become quite fascinated by the single mom ever since she’d arrived. Not that Zach would admit to it being anything other than business as usual. But Mercy wasn’t blind; she saw the way the handsome cowboy looked at Jennifer.

  Mercy nodded. “No problem. Glad I could help.” Lowering her voice for effect, she tacked on, “Just don’t let that get around. People ’round here’ll start thinkin’ I’m nice or somethin’. You’ll ruin my rep.”

  Jennifer giggled, passing a dish of apple cobbler toward Mercy, which she snatched gratefully.

  “Your secret’s safe with me,” Jennifer said with a cheery smile. “Hey, I heard a rumor today.”

  “Which one did you hear this time?” There were plenty of rumors running around the ranch. Some of them Mercy had started herself, and she wasn’t ashamed to admit it.

  “I heard that you’re gonna race your dad this Sunday.”

  “Not a rumor,” Mercy replied. Although she didn
’t add the other little secret she was keeping up her sleeve.

  Jennifer laughed, a hearty sound that had several people looking their way.

  “I heard they’re takin’ bets on who’s gonna win.”

  “If you’re smart, you’ll bet on Grace,” Mercy mumbled under her breath as she walked away. With a smile, Mercy tacked on, “Talk to you later,” loud enough for Jenn to hear.

  Grabbing her food, Mercy headed toward one of the tables in the back. She noticed Trinity sitting alone, and since she was never one to let an opportunity to harass one of her sisters pass her by, she changed her trajectory.

  “Oh, heavens, what are you up to?” Trin asked as Mercy approached, smiling back at her.

  “You know me. Trouble is always on my agenda.”

  “Do you know how true that is, Merce?”

  Mercy laughed. Yes, yes, she did. That was her purpose in life, stirring up trouble and keeping people on their toes.

  “Mind if I join you?” she asked before taking a seat, not bothering to wait for Trinity to answer.

  That earned her a resounding laugh from her sister.

  And, yes, Trin was one of those women who drew men’s attention with her throaty chuckle, too. Something Mercy had never perfected. Nor did she have the desire to, thank you very much.

  Although Mercy and her four sisters had the same basic features overall, blond hair, turquoise eyes, and petite frames — thin thanks to the grueling work they did on a daily basis — Trinity was by far the prettiest of them all. And that was saying something because Mercy thought all of her sisters were beautiful, even if she liked to tease them ruthlessly otherwise. With Trin’s heart-shaped face, pouty lips, and an overall sweet innocence that was, unfortunately, not faked, the woman made men practically melt at her feet with just a smile. Yep, Mercy had seen plenty of them fall, and she loved giving Trin a hard time about it, too.