How to Rope a McCoy (Hell Yeah!)

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How to Rope a McCoy (Hell Yeah!) Page 5

by Sable Hunter


  “No, no,” Libby protested. “This is your wedding day!”

  “Hush now,” Cady, Joseph’s wife, chided her. “None of us would miss this for the world.”

  “What about the guests?” Libby wailed as another contraction hit.

  Isaac looked over at Heath, Ryder and Pepper. “Could y’all handle the party so we can go to the hospital?”

  Heath nodded with assurance. “Of course we will.” It was obvious all of Aron’s brothers and their women wanted to be present at the birth of Libby’s twins. “You all get going. We’ll play host. Don’t worry about it for a minute.”

  They took him at his word and all of the guests applauded as a caravan of pickups left Tebow and headed for the hospital to welcome a pair of twin boys into the world.

  * * *

  Cato watched Savannah and Patrick dancing, her head lying on his shoulder. How happy they looked. Swaying next to them were Beau and Harley. The big Cajun seemed so protective of his petite wife even though Cato knew Harley’s reputation as a bomb tech was legendary. Both couples had traveled over from Louisiana together. Not too far away, Avery’s friend Tricia was dancing with another man who resembled the McCoys, but he wasn’t the handsome devil she’d spied earlier. Hmmmm, now where could he be? Her eyes perused the crowd, looking for him. Thinking about how broad his shoulders were and how she’d love to knead the hard muscles, Cato couldn’t be still. She moved a little bit to the beat of the music, aware of the vibrations from the drums and the bass guitar. Helping out was great, but she longed to mix and mingle. Darn, it was hot. She twisted her hair into a knot and secured it with a piece of blue ribbon she’d placed in the pocket of the apron tied around her waist, protecting the pristine gown from splashes of red punch.

  Behind her, Heath asked, “Can I have something to drink, ma’am?”

  Oblivious, Cato took a sip of the punch, smiling when she saw Patrick dip Savannah and then kiss her. She could still remember how Savannah had suffered when she’d thought Patrick had been killed in the war. His homecoming had truly been a miracle.

  Hot and tired, Heath tried to get the woman’s attention again. He was beginning to lose his cool. “Hey! What does someone have to do to get a drink in this place?”

  Happily Cato patted her foot, wishing someone would relieve her of punch patrol so she could kick up her heels.

  “Huh?”

  A sudden jerk on her arm startled her and she swung abruptly around, the contents of her punch cup flying through the air and all over the face, jacket and shirt of the very cowboy she’d been mooning over. Kabluey!

  “Oops. Oh, no!”

  “It’s you!” Heath bellowed as red liquid dripped off his hat, down his chin and onto his white shirt. “Are you deaf?”

  Cato didn’t need auditory skills to hear him that time. She was reading him loud and clear. An angrier visage she had never seen.

  Oaf.

  “Me, deaf? Yes, as a matter of fact, I am,” she answered defensively. This relationship wasn’t exactly getting off to the start she’d hope. “If you’d calm down a second and just let me ex—”

  While she was trying to answer and pour him another cup of punch, the handsome jackass proceeded to lecture her on the techniques of proper punch distribution.

  “If you’re going to take on a job, you ought to do that job and stop staring off into space like some wall-eyed owl.” Heath was voicing his objections so loudly, he’d missed what she said. He was about to ask her to repeat herself, but he didn’t get the chance.

  WHOOSH! SPLAT!

  The little vixen doused him again.

  Cato lunged forward.

  “What?” Oh, my God! She’d just baptized cutie-pie again. If she hadn’t grabbed the table, Cato would have fallen herself. Somebody had pushed her. Whirling around, she found three little girls in pink frilly dresses, giggling. They were running from a little boy and had used Cato’s wide butt as ‘home.’

  “Sorry!” They chimed together and ran off.

  “Shit. Shit. Shit.” Heath sputtered and spit as a fresh cascade of sticky drink poured off his face and clothes. “Why you little she-devil!” Heath growled.

  “Oh, my goodness.” Cato grabbed a towel and came around dabbing at his body. She wiped his face, chest, stomach and was rubbing roughly at the stain on his crotch when she felt a tap on her shoulder. Jerking her head up, she saw him drawl.

  “I think you got that spot.” She was still patting his growing erection when he snorted. “Now, look what you did.”

  Cato glanced down, realized where her hand was and that the bulge she’d been cleaning was now considerably bigger. Good grief! Oh well, she could wilt from embarrassment or let the ‘new and improved Cato’ shine through. She opted for door #2.

  “Is it like rubbing a lamp? Do I get three wishes?”

  “Ha!” Heath threw back his head and laughed. “You might not be able to handle the genie that comes out of that bottle, baby.”

  Licking her lips, Cato let out a long breath. “I’d like to try.” Gasping, she covered her mouth. This talking out loud business was gonna get her in trouble.

  Heath groaned. “Damn, you and I need to have a private conversation…” If this little hell-cat was half as wild in bed as she was here, he couldn’t wait to get between her legs.

  “You lead, I’ll follow, Sundance.” Impulsively, Cato stood on tiptoe and kissed his cheek, bold as brass. Lord, Edith Vincent would die the second time if she witnessed her handicapped daughter making such a spectacle of herself.

  “Oh, you’re bad,” Heath whispered. This brown-eyed baby was as hot as a firecracker. “I think I need to turn you over my knee.”

  “Bad?” Cato edged closer, just till the tips of her breasts grazed his chest. If she wasn’t mistaken, they both trembled. “Cowboy, if you give me a chance…I can be downright nasty.”

  A bubble of joy erupted from her lips. Did she just say that? Honestly, the idea of being draped across his lap made her tremble.

  Here he was, in an erotic Mexican stand-off with the little minx and she wasn’t backing down one iota. Passion fueled Heath’s blood. “I’m ready to go a good round with you anytime, anyplace. Just say the word.”

  Her inner good girl was reminding her that perhaps it would be a good idea to be introduced before she drug him off to have her evil way with him. But who wanted to listen to her? She’d had her say too many times before.

  “Word,” Cato said clearly and emphatically.

  Hot-damn! He was about to throw her over his shoulder and stalk off into the sunset when Jaxson handed him a towel. “Don’t you think you ought to go change clothes?”

  “What?” Hell! Heath glanced around and realized the whole assembly had their eyes on him and the little fox. “This isn’t over,” he promised her.

  “I don’t want it to be over,” the juicy little doll answered with a hint of a smile around her pink bee-stung lips.

  “I need to shower and change clothes, thanks to you,” he muttered as he held her gaze. Mercy! She was delectable, everything about her was perfect. Heath was starving to death. He ached to touch, taste and smell every inch of her.

  Putting a hand on her hip, she let her eyes slide from his face to his dick, where she stared at him until he rose to the occasion. “Need any help, big boy? I’ve had experience, you know, I get myself all slick and slippery regularly.”

  Cato was having a blast! Every sultry, seductive thing she’d ever wanted to say to a guy seemed to be tumbling out of her mouth.

  “Oh, you’re something else, aren’t you?” His brother’s rumbling laughter behind him just egged Heath on. “I tell you what. You wait for me, right here. I’ll let you show me what all that experience has taught you.”

  “Don’t get lost,” Cato called after him. As soon as he was gone and most everyone had turned around, Cato let loose. “Squeeeeeeeee!” Now, this was living!

  CHAPTER TWO

  With a wicked wink her cowboy stalked away, le
aving Cato with an image in her head that caused all her female parts to throb. Lord, she was horny and the man was delicious, even when he had raspberry punch dripping off his kissable lips.

  Grabbing Cato by the arms, Savannah nudged in front of her. “What did you do?” she asked with a shocked but bemused look on her face.

  “I met a man.” Cato announced, bugging her eyes out at Savannah as if no one was more surprised than her. “He caught my eye as I was leaving the ceremony. We, uh,” she giggled, “connected. I’ve decided he’s going to be ‘the one’.”

  “The one?” Savannah asked, suspiciously.

  “You know, my first.” Cato paused to give a little old lady some punch. “He’s gorgeous, isn’t he?” she mused, still following his progress as he sauntered across the lawn toward the big house, stopping to talk to several people along the way.

  “He is a very striking man, yes,” Savannah agreed with a concerned expression on her face. “Are you sure you know what you’re doing?”

  Her friend’s concern didn’t put Cato off one bit. “No, I don’t.” She smiled. “But I intend to learn.”

  Savannah frowned, but she had to grin a little also. She was a little worried about her friend. No matter how much bravado Cato displayed, Savannah knew she’d been cloistered for most of her life and couldn’t realize how quickly a man could take advantage of her. “That’s not what I meant.” She patted Cato’s arm. “I’m just looking out for you.”

  “Thanks, I appreciate that.” Cato hugged Savannah. “You wouldn’t know his name, would you?”

  “You don’t know his name?” Savannah yelped.

  The only way Cato knew Savannah was overly excited was by her startled expression which made Cato giggle.

  Before she could reply, a petite brown-haired woman came up and held out her hand to Cato. “I can answer your question. That’s Heath McCoy, my brother. And I, for one, am thrilled to make your acquaintance. My name is Ryder.”

  “Hello,” Cato took her hand, “I’m Cato Vincent.”

  Then Cato introduced Ryder to Savannah, who responded with southern gentility as always. “It’s nice to meet you, Ryder. If you’ll excuse me, there’s something I need to take care of.” Kissing Cato on the cheek, she squeezed her hand. “I’ll check on you before we leave.”

  When Savannah had left them alone to talk, Cato turned back to Ryder. “I guess you saw our spirited exchange.” She was just now realizing how very public their bantering had been. Cato was amazed that Heath—God, she loved that name—had been able to make her feel as if they were the only two people in the world. “I’m sorry about dousing him with punch. He caught me by surprise.”

  Ryder laughed, pulling another young woman to her side. “I think you caught him by surprise. This is my sister, Pepper. Pepper, this is Cato Vincent.”

  “How do you do?” She wondered at the amused looks on their faces. “What’s so funny?” Cato couldn’t hear their mirth, but it was contagious. She found herself laughing with them.

  Ryder held her chest as if trying to get air into her lungs. “I’ve never seen a woman stand up to Heath like that. Most people cower in their tracks and you threw two,” she held up two fingers, “not one, but two cups of punch onto his head. You’re priceless.”

  “I didn’t really throw them, both were accidental. He just happened to be in the way.”

  Pepper grew serious. “It doesn’t matter. You made him smile and laugh. We haven’t seen Heath look that alive in a long time.”

  * * *

  Heath tucked his shirt in and zipped his jeans. All he could think about was the feisty woman waiting for him. She was the most exciting thing that had happened to him in many a day. Her face was adorable and her body was enticing enough to wake the dead. He knew he needed to concentrate on Philip and Tennessee and their important problems, but the voluptuous doll from the punch bowl had shot his focus all to hell. “I’m coming, baby,” he whispered and he fully intended for those to be prophetical words for the night ahead.

  “Heath?” A call from downstairs broke his reverie.

  “I’ll be right down.” The voice sounded familiar. Curious, he headed out of the room, looking over the banister. “O’Rourke?” He broke into a smile. When his family had helped rescue Aron, he’d been lucky enough to work with some incredible men, one of which stood before him—former Navy Seal Patrick O’Rourke. “How have you been? I didn’t realize you were here.”

  “Isn’t everyone?” Patrick waited as Heath descended the stairs. “I saw you coming in here and my Savannah asked me to come talk to you.”

  “About what?” Walking into the kitchen, he gestured for Patrick to follow. “Let’s get a beer, Aron won’t mind.”

  “Thanks.” Patrick sat down at the big kitchen table and opened the can when Heath gave it to him. “I need to talk to you about Cato.”

  “Who?” The name didn’t ring a bell.

  “The woman you just met at the punch bowl.” Patrick’s demeanor was friendly, but Heath sensed he had something serious to say.

  “Okay.” He was ready to listen.

  “I know she came across as rather aggressive…” Patrick began.

  “I like aggressive sometimes, it makes things easier.”

  “Well, that’s just it.” Patrick leaned forward on the table. “She’s testing her wings. According to Savannah, Cato is unique. She had a super strict upbringing. That girl was as close to being a nun without taking vows of anyone we’ve ever met.”

  Heath was flabbergasted. “Are we talking about the same girl? She came on to me like she did it for a living.”

  Patrick laughed. “That’s our Cato. She’s determined to make up for lost time. Her mother succumbed to breast cancer recently and Cato is free for the first time to do what she wants without having to answer to anyone. And before you question how she could still be under her mother’s thumb and be an adult, well, just let me say that you’d have to know Mrs. Vincent to appreciate the pressure she was under.”

  Heath thought he was beginning to get the picture and he could certainly relate. His choices and lifestyle had certainly been affected by what had happened with his parents. “So what are you telling me, exactly?”

  Patrick shook his head, wondering if this was a wise move on his part. “All I’m saying is that she isn’t nearly as worldly as she seems and could be easily hurt.”

  “In other words, Cato is a good girl and will have certain expectations.” Expectations he could not fill.

  “I can’t speak for her about expectations, Heath.” Patrick drained his beer. “All I’m doing is relaying Savannah’s concerns.”

  Well, damn.

  * * *

  Cato was still a bit bemused over the reactions of Heath’s sisters. What did impress her was how close their family was and how much they seemed to care about him. Before they’d left, Ryder and Pepper had clued her in on their other brothers and some of the background with the Tebow McCoys. She was a bit jealous of their big family and the love they shared. Cato wanted that for herself one day.

  A jerk on the bottom of her skirt drew her attention. The same three little girls who had caused her to spill the second glass of punch on Heath, stood by her holding out their cups for a refill. “You three are thirsty little rascals.” She teased.

  “We’re chasing boys!” one of them announced with a gamine grin.

  “You are? Care to give me some lessons?” Cato leaned over, enjoying their zest for life.

  “Sure, you pull up your skirt, like this.” The youngest one picked up the bottom of her flouncy dress. “Then you run really fast and if they try to get away, you chunk dirt clods at them!”

  Cato laughed out loud. “No wonder I’ve had a hard time catching a guy. I’ve been going about it all wrong.” After assuaging the thirst of the cute trio, Cato served a few others, keeping one eye cocked to see if and when her sexy nemesis rejoined the party. She hadn’t been looking in the right direction, but when the fine hair rose on
the back of her neck and a frisson of excitement passed over her skin, she instinctively knew he had returned.

  Jerking her head around, she spied him. Yum! Handsome had changed clothes all right. Gone was the western tux and one would think he would look out of place in casual clothes, too laid-back for a gathering of this caliber. Oh, no. He looked like sex in cowboy boots. His tight jeans fit like a dream. She didn’t know what she wanted to do most or first—examine the cut of the denim that so lovingly caressed his well-formed ass or cup that intriguing bulge filling out the area behind his zipper, the one she’d caressed when trying to clean him up. And Jesus! Look at those shoulders…Cato had to grip the edge of the table to keep from sinking to her knees. And she had baptized this man in raspberry lemonade? Hell, maybe next time she could lick chocolate syrup off every inch of his body.

  Grabbing an unlucky passerby, she coerced the woman into filling punch cups. All of a sudden, Cato felt the urge to dance.

  * * *

  “What happened to you, Heath?” Tennessee bit his cheek to keep from bursting out with laughter.

  “I was ambushed,” he drawled, casting a glance over his shoulder to the punch bowl. Now that he knew their flirtations shouldn’t go any further, he wanted to avoid Cato if at all possible. Damn. She wasn’t there. Where did she go? Heath felt a shudder go through his body. It was like losing sight of a stalking predator.

  “What was her name?” Philip turned a chair around and sat down in it backward like he was settling down for some juicy gossip.

  “Trouble, her name was trouble with a capital T.” Now where was she? He looked around nervously.

  Jaxson’s eyes widened and Heath started to ask what was wrong when he felt a warm delicate hand enclose his and—YANK!

  “Come on, cowboy. I wanna dance.”

  Heath had been standing with his hip cocked, one leg out in front of the other, so he’d been a bit unbalanced. And when the little she-devil jerked on him, he almost fell backward, straight into her arms. “What in tarnation do you think you’re doing?”

 

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