by Jane Jamison
“Krystal?”
“Uh-huh?”
“Can I get my drink?”
Oh fuck a duck.
“Sure. Duh.” She grinned, trying to pass her ditziness off as a joke. “One beer coming right up.”
“I wanted whiskey on the rocks.”
“Right.” Her grin grew sappier. “Got it.”
Concentrating on making the drink was hard, but somehow she managed to pour the alcohol into a glass. If she was lucky, he didn’t notice when she put the ice into the glass after the whiskey, making alcohol splash on her hand. Smiling again, she hoped his attention would stay on her face as she wiped her hand.
“Here you go. One whiskey on the rocks.” She’d gotten the words out a second before the glass slipped through her fingers.
Shit.
Glass shattered at her feet, splashing whiskey on her new shoes. Heat flooded her cheeks as she bent down and started cleaning up.
He was next to her in a flash. How he could’ve gotten around the end of the bar and beside her so fast was beyond her. His hand touched hers, setting off alarms of all kinds.
Alarms about how close he was.
Alarms about how great he smelled.
Alarms that her pussy wanted her to forget where they were.
Alarms that told her to grab his shirt and rip it off.
Alarms that weren’t bad at all.
“Hey, watch out. You’ll cut yourself.”
She stared at his hands as he carefully took the shard of glass out of hers and knew she was acting like a star-struck fan meeting her favorite singer. A lot of reality shows—the kind she could never get enough of—weren’t half as exciting.
At last, she snapped out of her lust-induced fog. She pulled her hand from his. “I’m okay. Really.”
“Let me help you clean this up.”
“No, no. I’m the clumsy one who broke it. I’ll handle it.”
He caught her gaze with his. She felt his presence, not only in distance, but in a feeling that wafted over her. She would’ve given almost anything if he would’ve leaned closer and pressed his lips to hers.
“Krystal, let me help, okay?”
She had to get hold of herself. Crushing over a man while at work wouldn’t help her earn any extra money. “You really shouldn’t be back here. It’s against the rules.”
“Trust me. No one’s going to mind.” He winked. “Besides, rules are made to be—”
“Broken. I know. But not if breaking one will risk my job.”
He snagged the dust pan and brush before she could and started sweeping the broken glass into the tray. “I’m already back here and almost finished.”
He did have a point. “Okay, but as soon as we’re done, you’re out of here.”
“Whatever you say, boss.”
The way he said the word boss wasn’t the way she’d ever heard anyone say that word. Somehow he made the word seem sexy. “Good.”
He finished dumping the glass into the nearby trash basket. “All done.” Sliding the dust pan and brush back under the counter, he took her by the arms.
Need, primal and urgent, struck her. If she leaned in just a little closer, she’d be able to kiss him.
She fussed with a strand of her hair and wondered how she looked. The makeup she’d applied earlier probably needed touching up. Obviously the jeweled pin she’d use to hold back her hair on one side wasn’t doing its job well. “I must look a mess.”
“You? You could never look bad. No matter what.”
Suddenly, she found it difficult to look at him. Did he mean what he’d said? Or was he only being nice? She stood up, needing to do something, anything before she took hold of him and never let go. “Thanks.”
“No problem.”
They stood, their gazes locked.
“Hey, you two, get a room,” joked a man she’d yet to meet.
She startled, suddenly aware that the people closest to the counter were watching them. “You’d better get back on the other side.”
“Yeah. I guess so.”
“Looks like our cousin’s got a new job.”
Dane and Eric slipped up to the counter. Both wore grins the size of Texas.
“Did you decide you’d be better at bartending than running cattle, cuz?” asked a bemused Dane.
“If I get to work with bartenders who look like Krystal, then maybe so.”
She loved the flattery, but was it only that? Just flattery?
“He came around to help me clean up some broken glass.” She took Curt by the arm and turned him toward the exit. “And he was just about to leave.”
Biting her lip, she was thankful that he took her push good-naturedly. Her gaze skimmed over the broad shoulders then down to the round ass in his oh-so-perfectly-fitting jeans.
Oh, yeah. His drink.
She’d make up for her early clumsiness. Pouring another drink, she set it down on the counter as he came back to his stool. His cousins pushed their way in closer, edging the men next to them farther down the counter space. “Here you go, Curt. On the house for helping me clean up.”
“Thanks.” He slugged back the drink then set the glass on the counter. “That hit the spot.”
“On the house, huh? Are you sure picking up broken glass was all you two did?”
Curt whacked Dane on the arm. “Don’t pay him any mind. He doesn’t know what’s really funny and what’s not.”
She didn’t mind. Dane was the funny one of their trio even if an occasional joke fell flat. “Well, he’s right about one thing. You do have to do something to earn a free drink. I figure coming to my aid earned him one.” She drew in a long, slow breath, thankful that, at last, she was getting past her nervousness.
“So, baby, tell me something while you pour me a beer.” Eric motioned toward the tap. “What else do you like to do besides look pretty and drop glasses?”
He was teasing her about the glass, of course, but was he, like his cousin, flattering her for flattery’s sake?
“I don’t know. The usual stuff. Read, watch T.V., you know.” She hoped she didn’t sound too boring.
“Around here, the usual stuff includes riding. You do know how to ride, don’t you?” asked Curt.
As soon as she’d arrived in Fate, she’d known the question would come up sooner or later. After all, ranches surrounded the small town. She leaned on her elbows and dropped her voice. “Don’t go spreading it around, but no, I don’t.”
Their shocked expressions almost made her laugh.
“Seriously?” Dane tilted his head at her. “I’ve never met anyone who didn’t know how to ride. It’s like breathing.”
“That’s hardly a fair comparison.”
“You’re right, but still, it’s a hard thing to understand,” added Eric.
“What can I say? I grew up in a small town, but not many people had horses. Most of the land was filled with farming, not ranching. Now if you’d asked me if I could drive a tractor, then we’d be talking.”
“Well, that’s something. Still, you’ve got to learn to ride.” Dane placed his hand over hers. “How about you come and visit us on our ranch? We’ll teach you.” His dark gaze, lightened with bits of amber, drew her in. “I have a feeling you’re a quick study.”
She blurted out the question she’d wanted to ask someone for a while. “Why do your eyes have amber in them? And it’s weird, but I’ve seen other people’s eyes do the same thing. Not all the time. Sometimes there’s amber in them, then at other times, there isn’t. I don’t get it.”
The looks on their faces became guarded, as though she’d asked about a dark family secret. “Dane?”
His grim expression grew lighter, but still had an edge to it. “It’s no big thing around here. Most folks’ eyes will do that.” He shrugged, dismissing her question. “Maybe it’s in the water.”
“Are you saying you don’t know?”
Dane motioned for a beer of his own. “I’m saying we need to get you on top of a hors
e. So how about it? Want to come out to the Glowing Moon Ranch tomorrow? We’ll even feed you dinner after the lesson.”
He’d changed the subject, but she didn’t want to push. After all, how long had she waited for them to make a move? “I’d love to.”
“To which? The lesson or the dinner?”
“To both. But it’ll have to be earlier. Say lunch instead of dinner? I have to work tomorrow night.”
“Sure. Lunch then. Do you have a car? If not, we could swing by and pick you up.”
“I have a car.”
“Then we’ll see you around noon?” asked Curt. “This is going to be fun.”
“Around noon.” Could they hear her heart? How could they not when it was practically pounding outside her chest? Before they could leave, she had to ask one more question. “Hey, guys?”
They swiveled back to face her. “Yeah?” asked Eric.
“Why do you call it the Glowing Moon Ranch?”
“Because we like running when the moon’s at its fullest.”
“You mean riding, right?”
He blinked. “Yeah, I meant riding. Haven’t you ever noticed how on special nights the moon seems to glow?”
She thought about it a second and understood what he meant. “Yeah. I guess I have. Cool name, by the way.”
“Thanks.” Curt tipped his hat. “See you tomorrow, boss.”
Fuck a duck. I sure like the way he says boss.
* * * *
Dane checked again, but Krystal still hadn’t shown up. “When did she say she’d get here?”
He hadn’t felt so nervous since his first make-out session with Stacy Flagg back in high school. It still made him fidgety whenever he walked past her store, Stacy’s Hair Boutique & Gift Shop. Not because he still found Stacy attractive, but it was just plain awkward.
Eric bumped his shoulder against Dane as he passed by. “Will you calm the hell down? That’s the fifth time you asked that question. She’ll get here when she gets here. Hell, she’s not due for another thirty minutes.”
“Fuck you. Like you’re not jumping out of your skin to see her. You’ve paced this room back and forth until you’ve almost dug a rut into the hardwood.”
“Both of you calm the hell down.” Curt leaned against the door leading into the small kitchen. “And yeah, I’m nervous, too. We’ve waited a long time to find our mate. I don’t want either one of you two assholes fucking it up.”
Dane snorted derisively, yet had a difficult time pushing down the anxiety that his cousin might be right. Krystal was their mate. They’d agreed on it not long after they’d first met her. After getting to know her casually as well as asking around about her, they were even more certain.
“How long do you think it’ll take?”
Eric didn’t need to clarify his question. They all knew what he was talking about.
“Let’s not put a time limit on it,” answered the usually level-headed Curt. “If we click fast, then great. If not, we give her however long she needs. Weeks. Months, if we need to.”
“Are you fucking kidding me?” Eric paced back to the other side of the room, stuffing his fingers into his jeans pockets only to pull them out again before repeating the gesture. “I swear if you say we might have to wait years, I’ll go crazy.”
Dear God in heaven, don’t let him say we have to wait years to take her.
That was what Dane wanted to say. Instead, he toned it down. “I don’t know how long I can wait. As soon as I see her again, I might lose it and claim her, with or without her okay.”
“Do that and you’ll have me and the rest of the pack on you.” Curt let out a frustrated growl. “I know it’s rough, guys, but at least we finally found her.”
Dane shifted back to the window. “Yeah, I know. I’m just talking, is all. I wouldn’t take her without her wanting it.”
“Hang in there, brother. If I can, you can.” Eric paced back to the other side of the room.
“Finally. There she is.” Dane strode toward the door, but Curt stopped him short.
“Easy. Let’s not scare her off. Give her a minute.”
A minute turned into thirty long, tortuous minutes of waiting.
Chapter Two
Krystal still sat in her car in front of the men’s home. She’d made it there with plenty of time to spare and then realized that maybe she shouldn’t have come thirty minutes early. After tossing and turning all night, eagerness for the sun to rise then make it to midday had pushed her to pacing from one small room to the next in her apartment. By the time the clock had shown eleven, she hadn’t been able to wait a moment longer. Yet as soon as she’d driven up to their modest ranch-style home, she’d lost her nerve.
The bold plan she’d gone over time and time again had flown straight out the window pushed out by her jangled nerves. She’d planned on marching up to their front door and knocking. Once they answered, she’d barge her way inside, tearing off her clothes. By the time she had her jeans and shirt off and was working on getting her bra unclasped, they’d be on her, their hungry mouths and straying hands all over her skin.
So much for that plan.
How had she ever believed she’d have the guts to pull it off? Hell, yesterday she hadn’t been able to talk to Curt without dropping a glass.
“Stop being nervous. They’re just men like all other men.” Krystal readjusted the rearview mirror. The glint in her eye proved she was lying. “No. They’re not like other men. They’re hotter than hell, intelligent, funny, articulate, and everything you’ve ever dreamed of.”
She’d done her research, finding out about them almost from the first day she’d arrived in Fate. No one had said anything bad about Curt, Eric, or Dane. In fact, sometimes when she’d asked a person about them—in a casual, just-making-chit-chat kind of way, of course—she couldn’t get them to stop talking about them. Especially the women. Women of all ages couldn’t get enough of the men. Some, obviously picking up on her interest in the men, had flat-out said that she’d be a fool not to try and land them as her mates.
“Mates.” It was a funny kind of word to use, but it was a very commonly used word in Fate. “One woman with three men for her mates. Wouldn’t that be something?”
“Hey, baby, are you planning on getting out of the car?”
She sucked in a hard breath and twisted toward the window. Eric, looking like a cowboy hero, snagged his thumbs in his jeans, his eyebrows plunging between his eyes. “Oh. Hi. Sure. I was just checking my makeup.”
Oh fuck a duck. Checking my makeup? Like I’m some kind of self-obsessed nitwit? When will I ever be able to talk like a rational person around them?
“You look great like always. Besides, we’re going riding, not taking a picture.” He opened the car door for her then stuck out his hand.
She tried not to feel like a princess accepting the prince’s hand in matrimony as she let him help her onto her feet. “Okay, I’ll admit it. I’m nervous.”
The front door of the house creaked as Dane and Curt, two amazing Adonises in jeans, hurried down the front steps of the house. She’d never seen three men who looked sexier.
“Hey there, sugar. We’re glad you could make it,” called Dane with his wicked smile in full heartbreaking force.
“Good to see you, boss.”
“Why does he keep calling you boss?” asked Eric. “Did he sell you ownership of the ranch? Or are you his new dominatrix?” His chuckle filled her with the special kind of warmth that traveled all the way from between her legs to her heart.
“Me? A dominatrix? No way. It’s an inside joke is all.”
She wasn’t about to ask Curt to stop. She liked being called boss as much as she liked being called sugar and baby by Dane and Eric.
“Are you ready to ride?” Eric scooped his arm around her waist. “You can leave your purse in your car. No one’s going to steal it.”
She leaned against him, loving the sensation of his rock-hard body against hers. As he led her to the barn
with Dane and Curt following, she wondered if she should slip her arm around his waist. Could she pull him against her? If she did, would he pull her the rest of the way into an embrace? Her pulse picked up as she imagined being caught between all three men. Yet again, her nerves failed her.
When did I turn into such a coward? I should stop being nervous and just go for it.
Yet by the time they’d made it to the barn, her nerves had grown even more frayed. What did she know about horses other than it was a long way off the top of one to the ground below?
Yeah, that’s it. I’m nervous about riding a horse. Maybe so, but that isn’t the whole reason, either.
Four beautiful horses stood ready, the reins tied to a hitching post outside the barn. Three of them were chestnut in color, their black manes and tails shining under the noon sun. The fourth horse was a dapple gray with darker gray covering his haunches and back legs. The breeze blew his white mane and tail. She reached out and touched his sleek neck and laughed when he nickered.
“Killer likes you,” said Dane.
She jerked her hand back. “Wait. His name is Killer? Please don’t tell me he’s killed someone.” Surely, this wasn’t the horse they wanted her to ride.
“Of course not.” Dane patted Killer’s muzzle. “We were joking around about what a sweet temperament he has and decided to be funny and call him Killer. Shit, he’s so damn sweet he won’t even kill the flies pestering him.”
“Good to know.” Nonetheless, she stepped back far enough not to get kicked or bitten, and then turned her attention to the other three horses. “So which one is mine? He’s got to be the nicest one, right? One that won’t throw me off?”
“Killer’s your horse, boss.”
“Oh. Okay. And you’re sure he’s the nicest horse you have?”
“Sugar, don’t worry. We wouldn’t put you on a horse that might not treat you right. Are you ready to give it a try?”
“As ready as I’m ever going to be.”
“Then the first thing to learn is how to get into the saddle,” said Curt. “It’s really easy. Don’t worry.”
She gave him a skeptical look. “Says the man who’ll have to pick my ass up off the ground.”
