Brother In Arms: The Sacred Brotherhood Book III

Home > Romance > Brother In Arms: The Sacred Brotherhood Book III > Page 11
Brother In Arms: The Sacred Brotherhood Book III Page 11

by A. J. Downey


  She tipped her head back and leaned back a little, trusting that my hands kneading her ass under the satin band of her fuckin’ tiny ass nightie, held her firm. I slid them over her smooth skin, more to her hips and waist to support her and nearly did come at the sensual change in angle. She had me buried in her to the root and it was fuckin’ amazing. She rode me slow, and I could tell she was drunk on our lovemaking. I couldn’t say I was far behind her, I had the same feeling I got when I was fuckin’ flyin’ down the highway at breakneck speeds. Like I was lighter than air and let the gods fuckin’ take what they would…

  Except they weren’t taking tonight. Tonight, for the first time in my fucking life, it felt like they were giving me something. I don’t think I could ever be so grateful for anything ever again. This was probably the most perfect moment I’d ever been gifted and I was going to cherish that forever.

  I bowed my head and placed my lips against her skin, right between her breasts, a kiss I laid right over the cage that held her beating heart. A promise, a silent vow, that she was the one for me. I knew it plain as day. Hell, I’d somehow known it in the back of that fucking bar and I’d let her go. Never again… I didn’t know why the fuck I’d been blessed with this second chance, but I wasn’t a complete fool. I wasn’t wasting it.

  She tipped her head forward at the same time I looked up and in perfect sync, we kissed. We kissed and then we came, a lighter, easier thing than what’d happened before; our bodies simply too spent to accomplish anything more.

  Bailey just clung to me like some kind of spider monkey while we both took our time catching our breaths, half-dressed on the damn kitchen floor, the ice cream melting in its carton on the countertop above us, the light scent of bourbon perfuming the air under the heavier scent of sex and desperation. A desperation borne of the need to be so close to one another that we damn near went through each other.

  “What was that?” Bailey asked between chest heaving breaths.

  “I don’t know,” I lied, “but I liked it.” I knew damn well what it was. It was our meteoric plunge into love. For me, it was a plunge so hard, so fast, and so deep, there was no recovery. I think I just found out what it felt like to find your fuckin’ soulmate and I wasn’t a damn bit sorry for that, no matter what happened next.

  “Well whatever it was,” she gasped out, “I liked it.”

  I laughed, “You can have it whenever you want, baby.”

  She giggled, and I kept right on laughing, and eventually we managed to peel ourselves apart. Nothing short of a shower was going to fix the mess we’d made but first, we had our dinner of ice cream. Pralines and cream with caramel sauce suddenly became my new favorite flavor when licked off of Bailey’s body.

  Chapter 14

  Bailey

  I winced and Rush cursed a whole hell of a lot sending things crashing off the nightstand as he groped for what I assumed was his phone. He found it and silenced what sounded like the alarm to a nuclear reactor in full meltdown.

  “Oh my god, was that your alarm?”

  “Yeah,” he grunted.

  “What time is it?” I demanded.

  “Two-thirty,” he answered sitting on the edge of the bed.

  “Oh, hell no. Come back to bed.”

  “Can’t, my boss is kind of a bitch and she’ll fire my ass if I’m late.”

  It took me a full minute for my tired mind to catch up to what he was saying and when it did I scoffed and said, “Fuck her! Now come here.” I pulled him back under the warm blankets and pressed my nude body to his. He came willingly and laid down with me, cuddling me close.

  “Is that a request?” he asked, his breath stirring the hair by my ear, causing it to tickle.

  “Mm, I wish.”

  “Sore?”

  “Yeah, in all the right ways.”

  “Sorry about that.”

  I chuckled, “No, you aren’t.”

  “Yeah I am, if it means I gotta wait to fuck you again.”

  I laughed and drifted back to sleep surprisingly quickly, wrapped up in his warm embrace.

  When I woke again, the sun was streaming through the wooden slats of the blinds casting the room in bars of light. I sat up and stretched and confirmed that, yes, I was alone, and Rush had intentionally let me oversleep. I got out of bed and still took the time to make it the way my nanny had taught me, growing up. I went about pulling clothes out of dressers and armoires, laying them out for use.

  I went in and took a hot shower, using the rainfall showerhead feature in my bathroom which, let me say, was hard to pull away from in anything under a half an hour, but I managed. I wrapped my hair in one towel and my body in a bath sheet and went back out into my bedroom to get dressed.

  I heard the screen door open out in the living area and Rush called out, “Hey, boss lady! You up yet?”

  His strange greeting could only mean that he had people with him, so I called back, “Yeah! Give me just a few minutes. Can you get out some refreshments for our guests?”

  “Tea or lemonade?” I heard him ask, his boot falls receding against the hardwood as he moved away from the cracked bedroom door toward the kitchen. I heard a woman’s voice say, “Lemonade, thank you kindly.”

  “You bet.”

  I knew the voice, but I couldn’t place it. I chewed my bottom lip and double timed pulling on my jeans and tucking my camisole into them. I pulled on my boots after I finished sweeping my hair over my shoulder and whipping it into its braid to keep it out of things.

  I stood up, and grabbed my blouse, a peach plaid pattern, and threw it on over my even lighter peach cami. I didn’t bother snapping the buttons closed, my curiosity winning out. Instead I strode out of my room and across the entryway toward the dining room.

  Thank god I picked up the kitchen last night, I thought to myself when I saw who was sitting at the table. Marion Cranston, of the Kentucky Cranston racehorse dynasty. What in the hell was she doing in my kitchen?

  “Thank you, Rush. I appreciate it,” I said as he set the tray down on the table and poured Mrs. Cranston a tall glass with ice.

  “No trouble at all, boss lady,” he said with one of his wicked grins and a wink. I tried not to smile and failed.

  “Anything I should know before you get back to it?” I asked.

  “Moved Starry to the monitoring barn this morning. Stables are all getting a thorough cleaning. Horses have all been fed ‘n watered. I’m off to check the mend on that fence in the north pasture and to fill those holes from the old fence posts.”

  “Okay, grab a radio.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  He tipped an imaginary hat and went back out the front door. I turned to Mrs. Cranston and smiled brightly, “My apologies for keeping you waiting. I’m not usually so late to rise.”

  Mrs. Cranston was in her mid-sixties her blonde hair perfectly styled. She wore tasteful makeup and her green eyes were quick and shrewd as she considered me, tapping a perfectly polished, long nude nail against her perfectly painted rose petal lipstick. She was likewise dressed to kill in a pair of nude pumps that matched the nails, cream slacks, and a lighter cream silk blouse. She practically dripped with gold and pearls. From rings, sometimes stacked two to a finger, to her gold necklace set with a natural pearl. I knew the look, my mother tended to dress the same way when she went somewhere to remind people just who they were dealing with.

  Marion Cranston waved one of her hands as if shooing away a fly and said, “It’s not like I called ahead. I wanted to talk to you, not your brother and not that pompous windbag Caleb.”

  I blinked and said, “Me? What about?” I took a sip of lemonade to try and wet my suddenly dry mouth.

  “You know those idiot men had the nerve to turn me down when I asked about boarding my baby, Holy Grail, here?”

  I promptly choked on my lemonade, spewing some across the table, some of it most definitely coming out of my nose.

  “My word! I should have waited until you were done drinking, I do apol
ogize…” she pulled one of the napkins from the place settings that were always out on the table and helped me try to mop up, even pounded me on the back as I tried to get some air.

  “Why would they say that!? Not only that, but what makes them think they are in any position to make business decisions about this place? This is my farm! I’m in charge of the day to day operations here.”

  “I thought it was fishy when they said you were in the midst of closing, which is why I’m here to get it from the horse’s mouth!”

  I stared at her, horrified.

  “Wait, Philip I understand, but Caleb told you the farm was closing?” That son of a bitch.

  “You need a new trustee, honey child.”

  I blinked, “My father’s will specifically appointed him.”

  “Doesn’t mean you have to keep him, I’d get myself a lawyer if I were you.”

  I sat there shocked, dismayed, but not at all surprised. It was way past time to face the writing on the wall. Philip was actively trying to tank my dream to further his own greedy agenda. Caleb had been fair and impartial to an extent, but that was clearly right out the window and what was worse? They’d been intercepting clients and turning them away. I mean, how long had that been going on?

  “So I take it you aren’t closing?”

  “No, no we most certainly are not…” I said and Marion Cranston smiled the most devious smile I had ever seen in my life. Oh shit, she’s a steel magnolia if I ever saw one. An iron southern lady. I recognized the look, I’d seen it on my mother’s face a time or two.

  “My mother put you up to this, didn’t she?” I asked, everything clicking into place.

  Mrs. Cranston winked at me and patted me on the arm, asking in her best southern belle voice, “Why now, whatever do you mean?”

  Right.

  “You’re sure you want to board Holy Grail here at Blue Hills?” I squeaked. We were talking the frontrunner for the next Kentucky Derby here. As in, Holy Grail got his name for being the holy grail of race horses. His form, stride, power, all of it…

  “Why yes, I do, but you seem to have had a bit of a shock now, why don’t you come to my home, say this Thursday and we can discuss it at length.” She passed me a business card with her address written on the back and I nodded numbly.

  “I can do that.”

  “Excellent! I’m looking forward to it.”

  She got up, pulling her purse off the back of my dining room chair, a Coach bag in creams and golds that perfectly matched her outfit. She patted me on the arm again before I could get up and stood, “I’ll just see myself out,” she said and went to the front door. She opened up the screen and called over her shoulder, “And do bring that delicious young man of yours. Mm, he’s positively scrumptious.”

  For the second time that morning I choked on my lemonade, but honestly didn’t have a clue on how to handle this. I needed to call my mom…

  Chapter 15

  Rush

  I was filling the holes left just outside the newly repaired fence left by the old fence posts. They were a hazard, a broken horse leg or human ankle waiting to happen and with laws and shit the way they were now, even if a motherfucker was trespassing, they could sue the property owner and win. I wasn’t willing to let that happen so here I was with a truck bed full of fill dirt making it happen.

  I was out here probably an hour, maybe more, when Bailey came riding up on Jasper, one of the farm horses. He was a beautiful animal, too. Gorgeous reddish brown coat with a white star on his forehead and white socks.

  Bailey looked solemn and worn out already which sucked considering the day was just beginning for her. I straightened up from my latest shovel full of dirt and asked, “What’s up? How’d it go with the iron horse lady?”

  She dismounted like a fuckin’ pro and walked Jasper the rest of the way, securing him to the fence giving him enough lead to graze if he wanted to. She climbed the fence and took a seat facing me so I could keep going but we could talk. I had no interest in shoveling dirt right that second, though. Not with her sitting there looking like someone’d just kicked her favorite puppy.

  “I get two guesses?” I asked.

  “You’ll only need one.”

  “What’d your assclown brother do this time?”

  She hiccupped on a laugh and said, “Assclown, that’s a good one, I’ve never heard it before.”

  “You’re stalling.”

  “I’m pissed.”

  “Most people get pissed off they fuckin’ rage, you mean to tell me you get pissed off and just sit there like a bump on a fence lookin’ all pathetic? Come on, now! I’ve seen your fire, where is it?”

  “No, that’s me when I’m irritated. Now, I’m pissed.”

  “I seriously don’t fuckin’ get you sometimes.”

  “Rich girl 101, biker boy. If we’re legitimately pissed off about something or have a real reason to be angry, it only takes a few times of the men in your life ignoring you, or your mother telling you it’s not ladylike to blow up for you to start bottling it up.”

  “Ah, a conditioned response kind of a thing. Well, we’ll just have to break you of that habit, won’t we? Any rate, one problem at a time, what’s the jerkoff doing now?”

  Ooo boy, did she have a whole mess of shit to unload off those slim shoulders, and the more shit she spewed about, the more she got fired up. I don’t think the woman had ever had anyone on her side, let alone just listen to her – I mean really listen to her.

  I was pretty sure I wanted this particular girl in my life for a good long time, so it was the least I could fuckin’ do. So, I leaned on my shovel and let her vent, and the more she talked the more pissed off I got.

  “So let me get this straight, you own two-thirds of this place, you run it, you operate it, and yet your assclown brother and your daddy’s golfing buddy are making all the financial decisions runnin’ circles around your ass and you’ve been letting them because..?” She stared at me blankly for a full minute and swung around on the fence, dropping to the ground.

  “Get over here,” she bossed, and I went to the fence, she stood up on the bottom runner and grabbed my face with both hands laying one on me. “Thanks,” she breathed and I raised an eyebrow.

  “For?”

  “Putting it in perspective.”

  “What’re you going to do about it?” I asked.

  “Call my lawyers and see if I can’t get through to my mom, she didn’t pick up earlier.”

  “Good luck!” I called as she swung up into Jasper’s saddle.

  “I won’t need it. I’m done with playing by the rules while everyone else runs around getting away with murder.”

  “That’s my girl!” I called after her and she waved over her shoulder, taking Jasper into a trot.

  I finished up and threw the tools in the back of the farm truck. I looked out over the place and sure wished that it was worth the problems Bailey was takin’ on for it. One of the things that attracted me to the girl was her level of commitment to this place. If she committed half as hard to a relationship? Yeah, I could already tell that she wasn’t the cheating type which just made her hotter to me in so many ways. It was just figuring out how to convince her that the world she’d been living in for so long was the wrong one; that she needed to throw some caution to the wind and try mine on for size.

  Truth be told, I didn’t think I was going to have to convince her very hard. Our vibes meshed really fucking good, now that she’s knocked it off with all the pretentious shit.

  And her family? Well, her brother, as well as the rest of these rich fucks trying to stifle her? They were doing a great job of driving her right into my arms. Still, I was out of my depth. There was this huge fuckin’ rift between us with the way we both came up and I wasn’t blind to it.

  I jumped in the truck and drove back around to the main garage on the other side of the house, between it and the main stables, and parked it. I put the tools away and felt satisfied with all I’d been able to
get done that day. I checked in with Jorge and he was too, sending me off with a hearty handshake and a thanks for everything I’d done for the day. Dude was a natural leader. Bailey had lucked out there. Things were almost running smoother than with Renaldo at the helm and morale? Definitely higher. Still, we were running on the bare minimum of staff, a real skeleton crew, and we couldn’t do it forever.

  I went up onto the porch to go into the house and stopped when I heard Bailey on the phone.

  “I don’t care, Caleb. You’re blatantly ignoring me. You get those financials to me in the morning, you don’t? You’re done, period. I’ve already got my lawyers involved.” She paused, listening, and said, “Well, you haven’t been listening to me! I don’t care what Philip says! He wants this farm to fail. He wants to sell the property to some big development group.”

  She was calm, her voice barely even raised above a normal talking tone so her next words pissed me off, “Don’t patronize me, Caleb. I am calm. I have every right not to be calm. I have a dead horse, a lead groom and trainer in the hospital, and most of my staff walked off the job all in the span of a week. I own two-thirds of this place, I run it, I operate it, yet you have just about all my assets frozen and won’t give me a reason why. Financials, in the morning, or I’m going to have every reason to believe you’re stealing from me and if you are? You’re going to find out just how much my father’s daughter I am.”

  She hung up the line and I pushed through the screen, her head snapped up, those deep brown eyes of hers blazing just like Dragon’s or Dray’s, just a couple of shades lighter in color. I made an expression as I looked her over that said I was impressed and I was.

  “I want to go for a ride,” she said and swallowed hard, as if she were unused to voicing her wants.

  I gave her my best slow, panty dropping smile and said, “Well you’re going to have to be a might more specific when it comes to that.”

  She gave me an answering smile of her own and said, “I know you can go fast, but you can’t go that fast.”

  “Well alright, then. Do I got the time to grab a shower and a change of clothes?”

 

‹ Prev