“You seen Hope?” Trinity asked in a mock whisper.
“Nope. And that was how I planned it, too. You?”
“No. I hid out in the stable with Dixie and the pups until I heard she went home.”
“Do you know what she wants?” Mercy asked, curious as to why her oldest sister was stirring up a hornet’s nest at the ranch, hunting down people as though the world were going to end tomorrow.
“Somethin’ about Dad’s birthday,” Trinity answered.
“Shit.”
“Exactly. She’s plannin’ a big ol’ party, two weeks from now. Everyone’s supposed to pitch in to help.”
“On top of that, we’re probably supposed to keep it a secret from him, too, huh?”
“Yep. It’s never easy.”
That was the damn truth. Their father wasn’t the easiest man to pull one over on. Mercy would know because she’d spent the better part of the last twenty-six years of her life trying to do just that.
“Speak of the devil,” Trinity said with a smile in her voice.
Mercy looked up in time to see their father making his way through the scattered tables. He’d apparently set his radar and managed to seek at least the two of them out. She had no idea where Faith or Hope was, but she considered them fortunate. As for Gracie, Mercy happened to know that her sister was probably getting flanked by two hot cowboys. Lucky girl.
Forking food into her mouth to keep from having to talk, Mercy pretended not to notice when their father stepped up to the table. Not that ignoring a six-foot-two, barrel-chested man like her father was all that easy. As was his usual greeting, he flipped the end of her ponytail and then tugged gently. “Avoidin’ me, girlie?” Jerry asked with a rumbling laugh.
“Always, Pop. You know me,” Mercy answered honestly, although she inserted a hint of sarcasm just to throw him off. Still chewing her food, she peeked up at him. “I figured you’d be takin’ a refresher course on how to ride a horse.”
Her father smiled down at her, and Mercy couldn’t look away. Something was different about her father lately, and because it had been a change she’d noticed for weeks now, she was pretty sure it didn’t have a lot to do with the race that they had planned for Sunday. Whatever it was, it looked good on him.
“Be careful, girlie. I wouldn’t want you to be too embarrassed when I make you cry.”
“Not a chance, old man,” Mercy replied, laughing.
“What’s for dinner?” he asked, reaching down to steal her cornbread off her plate. Mercy managed to snag it before he could.
“Gotta be faster than that, old man,” Mercy teased.
“Hey, kiddo,” Jerry said to Trinity, leaning over and kissing her on the forehead. “How’re you?”
“Not too bad,” Trinity stated gravely. “I managed to steer clear of Hope, avoid Faith when she wanted to talk numbers, and shut down the store without any help from anyone else.”
Crap. Mercy knew a complaint when she heard one.
Dead Heat Ranch was a working dude ranch. It was also filled to capacity with tourists these days, and because of this, they had their own little general store. At any given time of any given day, the place was usually swarming with people interested in stocking up on food for their visit to the ranch or sifting through the numerous trinkets they sold as souvenirs. For the last few years, Trinity had appointed herself the keeper of the store. Only recently had they had a difficult time retaining extra help, mainly because the summer months were hell on the employees. Working on a ranch wasn’t a job for sissies, but Mercy would be the first to admit that half the time they hired kids who only thought they knew what work was.
“What happened to that last girl we hired?” Jerry asked, dropping into a chair between them. He was eyeing Mercy’s food longingly.
“Don’t even think about it, Pops,” she muttered as she shielded her plate from his penetrating gaze.
“That kid didn’t last two hours,” Trinity explained. “I’m pretty sure she applied for a job to be close to her boyfriend. When she realized she’d actually have to work for a livin’, she bolted outta there.”
“I’ll see what I can do about gettin’ someone to help you,” Jerry told her.
“I know someone,” Mercy suggested, grinning as she stared down at her food, her devious side coming out in spades.
“Don’t you dare,” Trinity threatened before Mercy said a word, but that only spurred Mercy on. She loved to get her sisters riled up. It was the highlight of her day.
“Who?” Jerry asked curiously, his gaze traveling back and forth between Mercy and Trinity.
“Dallas,” Mercy answered, not bothering to look at her sister. She could pretty much hear the steam coming out of Trinity’s ears.
“Dallas Caldwell?” Jerry asked incredulously, his gaze flipping back and forth between them.
“No!” Trinity exclaimed at the same time Mercy said, “Yep.”
With a shit-eating grin, Mercy continued, “Things are a little slow with the cattle. They can’t be moved yet, and he’s been fillin’ in wherever he’s needed. I think he’d be perfect to help Trin out. After all, he was the one who led the crew when they renovated the place last month.”
Not to mention, Dallas Caldwell had a serious hard-on for Trinity. Ever since Dallas had damn near killed that bastard Garrett Daniels because he’d hurt Trinity, Mercy had been rooting for him and Trin. Strange how all of that had gone down, but ever since then, Jerry had been rather fond of Dallas, as well.
However, Trin did her best impersonation of a woman who wasn’t interested, which Mercy knew was just an act. So, getting Trinity and Dallas in the same room always made for some incredible fireworks, and the last thing Mercy wanted was for things to start getting stale around the ranch.
Mercy added a mental checkmark to her good-deed list — get Trin and Dallas together. Another point in her favor.
“I’ll talk to him,” Jerry said, seemingly ignorant to Trinity’s fiery expression. Pushing back from the table, Jerry rose to his feet. “In the meantime, I’m gonna head over and talk to Grant.”
Mercy nearly knocked her chair over as she jumped to her feet. “Why?”
Shit.
That didn’t look suspicious at all.
Mercy tried to calm down as she stared at her father. The last thing Gracie needed tonight was for their father to show up on Grant’s doorstep. Mercy had happened to see both Lane and Gracie heading over to Grant’s house — separately, of course — which could only mean one thing…
“I just wanted to check on him. He mentioned he had to go over and talk to his father earlier in the week. I haven’t been able to catch up with him yet.”
That was because the crazy fool was hiding. Mercy didn’t say that aloud, though.
“He’s cool,” Mercy said quickly. “I talked to him a little while ago. He was packing it in for the night. Said he had a headache or somethin’.”
Jerry studied her, and Mercy was pretty sure he didn’t believe a word she said, but she didn’t care. “Besides, I wanted to talk to you.”
“About?”
Mercy glared down at Trinity, who was the one smiling now. Mercy doubted her sister knew what was going on with the peculiar threesome taking place at Grant’s place, but it was quite clear that Mercy was in the hot seat now, and any time that happened, her sisters got a kick out of it.
Gracie would pay for this. There was no doubt about it.
Leaving her half-empty plate on the table, Mercy linked her arm with her father’s and led him toward the door but not before looking back to see that Trinity had stolen her cornbread muffin.
Okay, so she added payback for Trinity to her list of things to do tomorrow.
But right now, she needed to forget about Trinity altogether. She needed to think on the fly. Mercy didn’t have a clue what she could possibly have to talk to her father about, but she’d wing it for now.
And later, she’d make sure Gracie knew that she’d saved her ass.
Chapter Ten
Grant wasn’t sure what had just happened, but he knew he didn’t want it to end. One minute he’d been in the shower with Lane, the next he was sitting in his chair eating dinner with a very naked Gracie on his lap.
And through it all, his mind had never once traveled to the ongoing fight he was having with his father.
“Nuh-uh,” Lane grumbled. “No thinkin’ right now.”
Grant tore his gaze off Gracie’s amazing rack to look at Lane. It wasn’t easy, that was for damn sure.
“We’re takin’ the night off from that shit. Unless you’re thinkin’ about how smokin’-hot Gracie looks sittin’ there naked. Got that?”
“Personally, I’m thinkin’ about how hot y’all look naked,” Gracie teased.
It was clear that Lane was there with a purpose. From the instant he’d stepped through Grant’s front door, it was evident that Lane was using the power of distraction to keep Grant from getting too far inside of his own head. It was obviously working because Grant had a hard time focusing, much less thinking, especially when his dick had been buried in Lane’s luscious mouth just a few short minutes ago. Damn, he wanted that man. He ached for him, even now, just half an hour later.
Of course, there was Gracie sitting on his lap, her pert breasts so close to his face he could see the light blue veins running beneath the smooth, creamy skin. He wanted to put his mouth there, to latch on and never let go.
But he didn’t.
Somehow, he’d succeeded in being a gentleman through dinner. As much as he could be, considering he was sitting in his living room naked while Gracie shifted and shuffled on his lap. His dick hadn’t been much for minding its manners, but Grant had tried to disregard the incessant throb between his legs. But now that they were finished eating, he wasn’t trying all that hard to ignore it.
“Come here, gorgeous,” Lane called to Gracie after he took all three of their empty containers to the recycle bin located in the kitchen.
Lane took her hand and tugged her to her feet before he lowered himself back to the chair, pulling her along with him. Grant was entranced by the sight — Gracie’s smooth, sun-kissed skin against Lane’s bronzed skin… Lane was looking at Gracie as though the woman were responsible for the stars and the resulting constellations, as if he’d never seen such an incredible specimen before.
Abigail Grace Lambert was perfection in its finest form, as far as Grant was concerned. He’d always thought so, even back when his feelings for her had been pure, long before she was old enough for him to have salacious thoughts about in the first place.
Hell, he could still remember that day like it was yesterday.
“Gracie, come here,” Jerry called out to the young woman currently shoveling hay in the empty stall.
Grant watched as she approached, noticing that she was more of a young girl than a woman. Her innocent eyes widened when she looked up at him, but other than that, she kept her expression masked.
“Yes?” she questioned as she approached them slowly, leaning the pitchfork against the stall wall.
“Gracie, I’d like you to meet Grant Kingsley. He’s gonna be workin’ here.”
Gracie nodded her head, but Grant had no idea what she was thinking.
“You ever worked at a ranch before?” she asked a second or two later, surprising Grant with her question.
“No, ma’am,” he answered truthfully.
“Well, then, good luck,” she said with a playful smile. “’Cause you’re gonna need it.”
And with that, she went back to work while Grant followed her father out of the stable.
Grant had known her since she was fifteen years old, and through the years, what he felt for her had morphed from a basic friendship — riddled with her playful teasing — to an intrinsic need. He’d go so far as to admit to himself that he loved her, but he still feared speaking the words aloud. He had accidentally let it slip that first night they were together, but when Gracie hadn’t reciprocated, he’d refused to voice them loudly enough for her to hear.
As Grant watched, Lane cupped Gracie’s full breasts in his big hands, kneading the firm mounds while tweaking her nipples between his fingers. Her breasts were overly sensitive, or so she’d told them. So much so that she could orgasm just by them playing with them. That was a fact, one that Grant had thoroughly enjoyed proving when they had put that theory to the test — and succeeded — on more than one occasion.
“Put your mouth on me,” Gracie encouraged Lane, knocking Lane’s hands away and hefting her breasts in her hands.
Grant’s dick felt like a steel rod between his legs. Watching the two of them was the best form of foreplay that he’d ever known. Almost as good as having Gracie’s mouth on his dick or Lane’s fingers teasing his ass.
Lane sucked Gracie’s nipple between his lips, careful not to take too much of her. She apparently knew what he was up to because she released her breasts and wrapped her arms around Lane’s head, pulling him closer, smashing his face against her chest.
“Don’t tease me, Miller,” Gracie said, her seductive voice and the thundering rumble of Lane’s laugh sending chills along Grant’s skin.
Lane sucked her breast into his mouth more aggressively, making sensual sounds as he did, and that didn’t help Grant’s current state at all. He was tempted to grip his own cock and stroke, anxious to join in but too fixated on watching to do either.
“Yes, just like that,” Gracie rasped, still holding Lane’s head. “Suck them.”
Lane alternated between breasts, sucking each into his mouth, his gaze darting over to Grant every now and again until finally he pulled back and pinned Grant with his chocolate-brown eyes.
“Stroke yourself,” Lane ordered, his full attention focused on Grant.
As though his hand had a mind of its own, Grant wrapped his fingers around his cock, slowly stroking the hard length, cupping his balls with each downstroke.
“God, that’s hot,” Gracie mumbled. “I wish I could’ve watched the two of you in the shower.”
Grant still couldn’t believe they’d walked out of his bathroom to find Gracie sitting in the living room. At first, he’d nearly panicked, fearful that she was going to be pissed that they’d stolen some time alone. But she’d actually seemed rather okay with it, which was both surprising and a tremendous relief.
“You like to watch us, love?” Lane asked Gracie.
“Damn straight.”
“Well, all you have to do is ask. Anytime you want.”
Grant smiled, his hand stilling on his cock. He didn’t want to push himself too far, completely content watching the show just a few feet away from him.
“Right now, I want to be the one watching,” Grant told them, drawing their attention back to him.
“Tell us what to do,” Lane commanded, that sexy demand making Grant’s balls throb. It was interesting how alpha the man was, even when he was giving the illusion that he was handing over control.
It drove Grant mad when Lane took control. For all of his life, Grant had been in charge, running his own life, making his own decisions. Even here at the ranch, he was the one people came to when decisions needed to be made. So for Lane to take the reins… It was a powerful feeling that Grant found he craved.
“I want to watch you eat her pussy,” Grant told them.
Gracie’s face lit up as though Christmas had come early for her.
“Put her on the bar,” Grant ordered, falling into his role as the scene’s director. He could do this, even though his dick would prefer he was in on the action versus watching from the sidelines.
Lane stood, keeping his arms around Gracie, lifting her easily. She wrapped her legs around his waist, and Grant got an up-close look at the vibrant butterfly tattoo on her right hip. He knew that all five of the sisters had one somewhere on their bodies because Gracie had told him and Lane back when they’d first uncovered the cute little tattoo. Apparently, the colorful designs were a tribute to their mo
ther.
When Lane deposited Gracie on the laminate countertop, she didn’t waste time, maneuvering into position so that she was lying on her back, her heels on the edge of the counter and her legs spread wide.
“Lord have mercy,” Lane growled as he slipped his finger through her glistening slit.
Since the party had moved out of his visual range, Grant opted to join them. He vacated his trusty recliner and hefted himself up onto the counter beside Gracie, trailing his finger from her neck down her sternum, over her flat, muscled stomach until he reached the bare skin of her mound. He went so far as to tease her clit briefly while Lane pumped one thick finger inside her. That’s where Grant stopped. He wasn’t planning to join in, but the urge to touch her was just too great.
“What are you waitin’ for, cowboy?” Gracie taunted. Her snarky words died on a breathless moan when Lane thrust two fingers between her folds, sliding into her pussy.
“Hold yourself open for him,” Grant instructed. “I want to be able to see everything.”
Gracie’s eyes were hooded, and there was a pretty pink tinge to her cheeks, but she didn’t challenge him. He could tell she was trying to hide her embarrassment. Not that she had anything to be embarrassed about. The woman was flawless: from her silky blond hair and those incredible blue-green eyes all the way down to her cute little perfectly manicured toes tipped with a brilliant red polish. God had spared nothing when creating her.
And as he sat there, completely in awe of her, he couldn’t help but remind himself that she was his.
Well, theirs, technically.
But as long as he was part of it, he didn’t much care.
■□■□■□■□
Lane considered himself one seriously lucky son of a bitch.
What more could he ask for than to have these two at his mercy. First, Grant in the shower, and now Gracie laid out like a smorgasbord on Grant’s kitchen counter.
Shit. He was pretty sure it didn’t get any better than this.
And the best part of it all, not a single person had brought up Grant’s bad mood.
Betting on Grace Page 10
