by Zara Chase
Please don’t put me down.
“Put me down!”
“Not a chance. You have no idea what damage you’ve done, turning up here with my sister in tow. Keep her out of your fetishes.”
“Well, of all the…I’m injured. You’re hurting me.”
“Nice try.” He expelled a mirthless chuckle. “You were limping on your left leg. I’ve got your right one pressed against me.”
Yeah, I know. “How thoughtful.”
“That’s me.”
There was no humor in the comment, merely suppressed anger. Why? Tatum had thrown in her lot with the McLeans, kind of, and the three of them had been friends forever. Why couldn’t they been seen at the club together, and why was Drew so angry with her? It was none of his damned business what she did. It was bad enough that her own brothers watched her every move. She wasn’t about to let a Baldwin do the same thing. Not even this prime specimen of glorious male splendor.
“It’s a while since I saved you from your own stupidity, Precious.”
Farah melted when he used the name he’d once reserved for her alone. “Don’t call me that.”
“You used to like it.”
“I see working in the big city hasn’t diminished your arrogance.”
“Nope, can’t say that it has.”
Farah’s struggles got her nowhere. Drew’s arms were like bands of steel, wrapped beneath her butt and around her back. What the hell, she might as well enjoy the experience, she thought, promising herself it was just a momentary lapse.
Drew Baldwin was the only man for her. Unfortunately, he always had been and always would be. That’s why she’d left Sanctuary. She couldn’t bear to be near him, and yet not with him. She’d seen him out on a date once with a gorgeous blonde hanging off his arm. She’d rushed to the restroom to throw up, cried for two whole days afterward, and then enrolled in the police academy. It was the only way to get him out of her system. Trouble was, it didn’t seem to have worked. Her feelings for the guy were as hot and wicked, as fresh and urgent, as they had been five years ago.
Her brother, Will, and cousin, Josh, had shown the courage to break ranks and hook up with Tatum Baldwin. Good for them. She was right behind them every step of the way, even if they hadn’t bothered to consult her first. Back then, even if Drew had been interested in her—which, judging by the steady flow of gorgeous babes he’d flaunted, she somehow doubted—she couldn’t bear to disappoint her mom and dad. Now that someone else had taken the lead, things might have been different. Apart, of course, from the pending litigation over this blasted gold…oh, and Drew’s apparent indifference toward her.
Dark hair, as always too long, flopped across his brow, and his chocolate-brown eyes appeared mysteriously dark. His strong, square jaw was set in the stubborn line she remembered too well from her previous dealings with him. The day’s growth of stubble on it suited him. She heard it said that her brothers were blessed with good looks, but as far as she was concerned none of them could hold a candle to Drew Baldwin. She leaned against the solidity of his chest and made herself comfortable. If he wanted to carry her, let him do his worst. She wasn’t exactly a lightweight. He’d soon run out of strength and set her back on her feet.
But he didn’t. She thought someone might ask him what he thought he was playing at, and almost giggled when she remembered where they were. She figured that a woman protesting because she was being bodily removed by a man wouldn’t seem the slightest bit out of place here. Hang on, make that two men. She’d just noticed another hunk striding along with them, grinning like he found the whole set up amusing. This one had a profusion of blond wavy hair, and deep blue eyes that twinkled each time he looked at her. He matched Drew’s six foot two. Yes, she knew how tall Drew was, where he’d gone to school, when his birthday was, what foods he liked. How pathetic was that?
She returned her attention to the other man. He winked at her, and she melted a little inside, intoxicated by an overdose of testosterone and alpha male. She noticed that the second man’s skin was tanned, and it looked like his large hands were calloused, as though he worked outside. He looked vaguely familiar, but she couldn’t place him.
They made their way out to the parking lot. Finally Drew put her back on her feet, and to her mortification, she stumbled. His hand darted out to steady her. So, too, did one of the stranger’s. More electricity shot through her veins at this dual assault. She ignored her tumbling gut and painfully solidified nipples, glad that her jacket covered the evidence. Her reaction was way over the top, but she attributed it to the pain medication she was on. It seemed to affect her adversely, and she’d stop taking it as soon as the stiches were out of her thigh.
“Steady,” Drew said in an insufferably superior tone.
“I’m fine,” she replied abruptly. “And that wouldn’t have happened if you hadn’t manhandled me out of there like I was lowering the tone.”
Drew had the audacity to laugh. He plucked the wig from her head and tossed it into the nearest trash can. “Now you’re not,” he said.
Aubrey rejoined them, pocketing her cell phone and looking anxious. “Sorry, Farah,” she said, “but I have to go. That was about one of my students. He’s got himself into a bit of a situation, and I’m needed. Sorry about dinner.”
“Okay, I’ll come back with you.”
“Go, Aubrey,” Drew said, holding Farah’s arm like he had some divine right to touch her, and mess with her mind. “You, too, Tatum. We’ll feed Farah and make sure she gets home.”
“The hell you will!” Farah shook him off and placed her hands on her hips. “How do you get off on laying down the law? I don’t need anything from you.”
“Yeah you do.” Drew appeared to have gone from being furious with her to lazily amused. “You remember Isaac Kincaid, I’m sure. Isaac, this is Farah McLean.”
Isaac grabbed her hand and kissed the back of it. Farah desperately wanted to keep up her pretense at being angry, but the gesture took her completely by surprise, and she couldn’t help but laugh.
“Of course. You work for the Baldwins.”
“Indeed I do. Don’t like to boast, but I’ve forgotten more about horses than most people know.”
Farah raised both brows. “Nice to see the Baldwin modesty extends beyond the family.”
Isaac merely laughed. “Farah, honey, the way I see it, we don’t have a whole lot to be modest about.”
Farah would die rather than admit it, but she had to agree. Isaac was now lounged elegantly against the doorjamb, his long legs crossed at the ankles, right at home in cowboy boots and worn jeans that hugged his hips and gave her a graphic idea of the state of his butt. She couldn’t help noticing that the denim was especially worn around his crotch area. What was he packing in there? Down, girl!
Drew now stood beside his buddy, and glancing up at them, Farah suddenly felt way too hot. They were quite a sight, what with their broad shoulders, lean, hard bodies, and lazy, persuasive smiles. Their not entirely civilized male auras probably worked favorably on every woman they met, too, and they knew it, the arrogant sods. After all, what girl could resist the challenge of taming bad boys?
Farah wasn’t that shallow. Really, she wasn’t. She only moistened her lips because they happened to be dry, nothing more. She’d go right back into the club, just to show them she wouldn’t be pushed around. Problem was, she couldn’t seem to move. Trying to tell herself she was over her obsession with Drew was like using a Band-Aid to fix a broken heart. It was never going to convince anyone, so she simply stayed put and waited to see what they’d do next. Whatever it was, she wouldn’t agree to it.
She absolutely wouldn’t.
She could understand where Isaac got all those muscles from. He worked with horses all day long. But Drew was a shrink with some fancy outfit in Denver. He had no business looking quite so…well, so virile. She suppressed a shudder, but a frisson of excitement still ripped through her when she recalled how it had felt to be held up clo
se against his sculpted torso.
Damn it, she was losing control again!
Both men flashed lazy smiles, and to her mortification, she realized it was because she’d been staring at them for way too long. She quickly averted her gaze, looking toward Aubrey and Tatum for help. But they’d obviously noticed what just went down. They both knew she’d once had a fixation with Drew. Clearly they didn’t realize she was over that because instead of coming to her rescue they meekly headed toward Aubrey’s car.
“Hey, wait for me!” Farah cried.
“You’re good, babe,” Tatum said with an insufferably smug smile. “Drew and Isaac will take good care of you.”
That’s what I’m worried about. Farah could only stand and stare, dumfounded, as Aubrey sent her a little wave, started her engine, and drove out of the lot.
“Now see what you’ve done,” Farah said, glaring at the two men. “There goes my ride.”
Judging by their amused expressions, she could have phrased that better.
“We’re happy to give you a ride, darlin’,” Isaac said.
“Good. I take it you don’t need directions to the McLean ranch.”
Farah’s head was still itching from the wig. She pulled the elastic band out of her hair and shook it free. When it cascaded about her shoulders in its usual wild disarray, she thought she heard both men inhale sharply. Damn, did they think she was trying to impress them? She absolutely wasn’t. Her head was itching, was all.
“Why did I have to choose the one week when you’re home to visit that club?” she asked, pointing an accusing finger at Drew.
“Oh, he’s not—”
“Where would you like to eat?” Drew asked, cutting across whatever Isaac had been about to say.
“Well, seeing as how you’ve messed up my night out with my best friends, you might as well take me to the Steer House,” she said sweetly, naming the most expensive restaurant in town.
“You got it,” Drew replied. “Come on, we’ll go in our truck.”
Farah didn’t like the idea of being squashed in between these two. Or rather, she did, a little too much. It was hard to play the part of the wronged party with a leaking pussy and painfully hard nipples. And don’t get me started on my toppling gut. Judging from Drew’s insufferable expression he knew precisely what she was thinking, damn him!
“We can walk. It’s not far.”
“Not with that injured leg of yours we can’t.” Drew took her arm. “Come on, sugar.”
“Don’t you sugar me.” She glowered at him. “In case you hadn’t noticed, I’m pissed with you guys. You wrecked my evening.”
“Then we’re just gonna have to make it up to you,” Isaac answered with a sinfully tempting smile.
This time it was him who lifted her from the ground and deposited her smoothly on the seat of the truck, all without touching her injuries. How does he do that? The same couldn’t be said for her composure, and her skin still burned where he’d made innocent contact with the sides of her waist. Isaac slid in next to her. Was she imagining it, or could she actually feel the heat coming off that solid body of his, worming its way into hers? She felt way too hot and wanted to remove her jacket. She remembered the flimsy vest she was wearing beneath it, her rock-solid nipples, and changed her mind.
Drew slid behind the wheel, and the two of them now had her surrounded. Toned, denim-clad thighs came at her from both sides. Farah, the tough Billings detective who could look after herself and didn’t take shit from anyone, was hopelessly out of her depth. Knowing when she was beaten, she temporarily surrendered to their quite insufferable bossiness. Sometimes a girl just had to go with the flow.
Chapter Four
Drew turned the truck onto Third Street, cursing the way he’d handled the situation with Farah in the club. His regrets only extended as far as the situation. He couldn’t bring himself to feel guilty for actually manhandling her. Hell, he always had wanted to touch her, and nothing seemed to have changed in that respect over the past five years. Drew pulled a self-denigrating face. Enter Drew Baldwin, mind doctor extraordinaire, who couldn’t even get over his own hang-ups, so how was he supposed to help his patients with theirs?
He knew damned well that Farah resented her family’s well-intentioned overprotectiveness. Hell, he could see both sides because he felt the same way about Tatum. Knowing she was hooked up with two McLeans had well and truly put the proverbial cat among the pigeons. It had made matters far worse between the families, but Drew didn’t ask her to consider breaking it off. He had no right to interfere. Besides, he’d never seen her so happy. If his job had taught him nothing else, at least he’d learned that a woman in love and rational thought didn’t always go together.
This fucking feud had a lot to answer for. His father’s cancer had frightened Drew into coming home and playing referee. When his dad suffered a heart attack, Drew knew he was needed here permanently. His father would never come right out and say so, but he needed Drew’s help. Old Doc Miller decided to retire and sell off his practice so the timing seemed right. Someone had to put an end to a ridiculous situation that had gone on for way too long, and Tatum’s situation gave Drew the necessary impetus to act. He thought he was getting somewhere, but then that stupid gold was discovered and now things were worse than ever.
Drew shook his head, acutely conscious of a brooding Farah seated between him and Isaac as he drove to the restaurant. With five older brothers, Farah was always going to be a tomboy, determined to prove she was at least as tough as any of them. When things got too much for her in Sanctuary, Drew wasn’t surprised when she decided to become a cop. He wasn’t any happier about her chosen profession than her family was, but could understand why she wanted to leave her hometown. How would she ever have a love life when five hulking brothers vetted every boy she dated, threatening to break his legs if he hurt their baby sister?
Drew left Sanctuary partly because he couldn’t stand the feuding anymore, and partly because Farah had already gone, so there was nothing left to stay for. He took up a post in Denver, hoping to lose himself in the big city, and perhaps find another woman who’d match up to Farah. It never happened.
And now she was back.
Drew had nearly had a heart attack of his own when he heard she’d been shot. She’d made detective less than a year ago—oh yes, Drew kept a close eye on her career. What was she doing, being exposed to dangerous armed criminals? Wasn’t she supposed to have a more experienced partner to protect her from all that stuff? He’d gone out of his mind with worry, and nagged Tatum stupid for every little update until he was satisfied she’d survived, unscathed.
Physically, anyway.
The mental scars would take a lot longer to heal.
He glanced across at Isaac and could see he was completely taken with Farah. Join the club, buddy. He was doing his best to chat to her, but Farah was staring straight ahead and blanking him. Drew was tempted to smile. No woman ever ignored Isaac when he turned on the charm. Leave it to Farah to break the mold.
Farah was the one for them. He didn’t even need to ask Isaac because he knew his friend well enough to see he felt the exact same way. Drew had wasted so many hours fantasizing about being with Farah one day that he was surprised he didn’t want her all to himself. His love for her was complete and absolute. It had been that way since Farah turned fifteen and kicked him in the shins when he caught her sneaking into the Bandit Bar for an underage beer.
He put his willingness to share her down to his deep friendship with Isaac—a friendship that went back to their college days. Their careers might be diametrically opposed, but their tastes were the same in all things, especially women. If they could somehow persuade Farah to take up with them, Drew knew the experience would be enhanced if the three of them were committed to it.
Yeah, like that’s gonna happen.
Drew pulled up outside the restaurant, still cursing the damned feud between their two families—a feud that was in danger of blightin
g them all.
“Here we are,” he said.
Drew climbed from the truck, leaving Isaac to help Farah down. She shook off his hand but almost stumbled when she led with her bad leg. Drew was there to catch her, just like he always would be, if only she’d allow it.
“Steady,” he said softly, his lips brushing her hair. “Can’t have you opening up that thigh wound.”
She swallowed and didn’t immediately respond. If Drew didn’t know better, he’d say she was shaken by the contact with him.
But, of course, he knew better.
“How did you know I injured my thigh?” she asked, sending him a suspicious glare.
He chuckled. “Lucky guess.” He took one arm and Isaac grabbed the other. “Come along, ma’am. Let’s get some food into you.”
The restaurant was doing a brisk trade, and there didn’t appear to be a free table.
“They haven’t got any space,” Farah said with a satisfied smile, turning back toward the door. “You might as well take me home.”
Brianna, the attractive hostess, glided up to them. “Hey, Drew, Isaac, how you doing?”
“We’re good, Brianna.” Drew turned on the charm in the hope of getting the only free table he could see. “How are you?”
“I’m just fine, thanks for asking.” She didn’t even look at Farah. “Did you make a reservation?”
“No, darlin’,” Isaac replied. “But we kinda thought you might squeeze us in.”
Brianna appeared to melt beneath Isaac’s flirtatious smile. “Well, I don’t know.”
“We’d be awful grateful, honey.”
The hidden promise behind Isaac’s words appeared to do the trick. Brianna blushed and made a big deal of flipping through her book, but Drew knew they were in.
