by K. C. Lynn
The son of a bitch was there; he had a hand in torching it. The knowledge fuels the fury barreling through me.
“For the past few years I’ve been trying to find something on all of them, including Toder,” he goes on to say, taking me by surprise. “I’m sick of the power they hold over this goddamn town as much as everyone else. So far though, every lead I’ve followed has led me to an empty road. I have no doubt they keep their secrets locked up somewhere but it isn’t anywhere I’ve found yet and I’ve even searched the fucker’s house before.”
Frustration is thick in his voice, the same one coiling inside of me right now.
“I’d say any evidence that was collected from your father’s property has already been destroyed.”
We figured as much but that doesn’t mean I’m giving up. Every single person who had a hand in this will pay.
“I’ll help you guys with anything I can, you know I will, but finding concrete proof isn’t going to be easy.”
“For their sake they better hope we do,” Knox says. “Otherwise we will resort to our own method of justice.”
“Don’t say that shit to me,” Craig stresses. “I mean it; you fuckers keep that shit to yourself. I’m a by-the-book kind of dude, I took an oath, don’t make me break it.”
“Calm down, Cinderella,” Braxten says. “If we take care of it you won’t even find their bodies.”
“Jesus Christ.”
The three of us chuckle as he tosses his beer back.
The conversation ceases when the others come back to join us. My father leads Hannah and Amelia to the other end of the table as they carefully carry their plastic cups, red juice sloshing over the top and onto their hands.
“Hi, Daddy.” Hannah greets me loudly to be heard over the music while Amelia gives Craig a kiss on his cheek as she passes by him.
“Hey, baby. Having a good time?” I ask.
“The best! Did you see me dancing with Papa Thatcher?”
I nod. “You’re a natural.”
“That’s because she has the best teacher,” my father boasts with a proud grin.
“Mama said she’d show me how to line dance later.”
“Is that so.” My attention moves to Ryanne as she and Jessica come stumbling over in laughter. Our gazes lock, her laugh softening into a smile. One that would knock me on my ass if I weren’t already sitting down.
Jessica whispers something in her ear that has her blushing. I know exactly how far that pink stain spreads, my fingers itching to reveal all that creamy skin.
As they reach the table Jessica drops down on Craig’s lap, her arms winding around his neck as she plants a hard kiss on his mouth. “Hey, handsome.”
“Hey yourself.”
“Staying out of trouble?”
“Trying to,” he mutters incoherently.
Ryanne moves for the end of the table where Hannah sits but I snag her wrist and bring her down on my lap instead. Her subtle intake of breath penetrates the air when she feels how hard I am.
She shifts, wiggling her ass on my raging cock. My hands drop to her bare thighs in warning, fingers trailing to slip just beneath the edge of her dress as I fight to restrain myself.
Knox’s gaze drops to where my hands are, his jaw and body tightening before looking away. The guilt that plagues me cuts deep.
“You should come dance with us, Daddy,” Hannah says, breaking me out of my turbulent emotion. “It’s so much fun.”
“I’m not much of the dancing type,” I tell her regretfully, hating to let her down.
“Why not? Papa Thatcher dances.”
“Because Papa’s romantic charm didn’t rub off on his sons,” Ryanne says, side-glancing me.
“You don’t need charm when you look like us,” Braxten tosses back with a cocky smirk.
She shakes her head but she can’t hide her smile.
I notice my father is distracted by something across the room. Glancing in the same direction, I find Gwen Hamilton at the buffet table. Her eyes meet my father’s before quickly darting away.
I frown, wondering what I’m missing. “Everything all right, Dad?”
“Huh? Oh yeah, sure,” he says quickly before standing and lifting Hannah into his arms. “How about some grub? I’m famished.”
“Do they have ice cream here?” she asks.
He chuckles. “I’m sure they will for dessert but let’s get some dinner first, shall we?”
Ryanne stands with them, turning to face me. “You want something?”
My eyes sweep down her body, letting her know exactly what I want. “I’ll eat later.”
Pink invades her cheeks, the smallest hint of a smile tugging at her lips. “Suit yourself.” She walks away, hips swinging, taunting my barely restrained control.
The moment I get her alone tonight, I’m going to remind her just what happens when you tempt the beast.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Ryanne
“The way that man of yours eye-fucks you for the world to see has me all sorts of hot,” Jessica whispers over at me, fanning her flushed face as we stand at the buffet table, dishing the girls’ plates.
I don’t have to look over my shoulder to know Justice is watching me, I can feel his gaze searing my skin. He’s been doing it all night, making me as hot as Jessica.
“Well, I’ve caught your husband checking you out quite a few times too, especially while on the dance floor,” I say, shifting the topic from me to her.
“Right? Even after all these years the man still can’t get enough.”
Her response has us both breaking into laughter.
“I’m really glad you came,” she says softly, her kind smile warming my heart.
“Me too.”
I’ve had a great time with her. It’s been a long time since I had fun like this. I was so nervous to come but the night has gone better than I expected. People have been friendly with welcoming me back but there is also no denying the questions in their eyes. Unavoidable, I suppose, considering the circumstance.
I think coming here has been good for us all. Amelia and Hannah have been inseparable, and I don’t think I’ve ever seen Thatcher this happy. He’s been the life of the party and my dancing partner whenever I’ve needed one, because heaven forbid his son have a romantic bone in his body. Thatcher is as talented on the dance floor as he is with his harmonica.
Amongst his joy though, I’ve witnessed something else, a distraction he’s had every now and again with Gwen Hamilton. I’ve caught him watching her in a way I’ve never seen him watch another before. At one point, it was so obvious I even called him on it, asking him if he knew her well. He laughed off the question and chalked it up to be nothing more than noticing a beautiful woman.
I could tell he was lying.
I have no doubt Thatcher has some secrets, ones that none of us know about, and I’m starting to wonder if some of those secrets have something to do with Gwen. My suspicion only grows when we reach the end of the table where Gwen is dishing out her broccoli casserole.
She has a hard time making eye contact, her smile nervous as she greets him. “Hello, Thatcher.”
“Gwen.” He nods. “You look as lovely as always.”
“Oh, thank you.” She lifts a hand to her hair, looking more than a little flustered before her gaze drifts to Hannah. “Who is this sweet little girl you have with you?”
“This is my granddaughter, Hannah J.” He introduces her with so much pride it makes my heart swell. “Isn’t she beautiful?”
“Very,” she agrees. “Hi, Hannah J. Nice to meet you, I’m Gwen.”
“Nice to meet you too, Miss Gwen.”
Gwen brings her attention to me next, gracing me with that same kind smile she gave Hannah. “Ryanne, it’s been a long time.”
“It has. It’s nice to see you again.”
She was always good to me growing up, especially when I was forced to go to her house for whatever dinner event she and Forrest had for the foundi
ng families. I think she felt bad for me. She knows what vile people my parents are, especially my mother.
“I’m sorry about Forrest,” I tell her, even though it’s only half the truth. I am sorry for her loss but Forrest Hamilton was as evil as the rest of them. How someone as sweet as Gwen ever ended up with him is beyond me.
“Thank you.” She glances at Thatcher, pain etched deeply on her face along with something else, something more.
There is definitely something going on here and my nosy self is dying to know what it is. By the look Jessica shoots me she’s curious, too.
“Well, I think it’s time we go back and eat,” Thatcher says, ending the awkward silence. “Have a nice night.”
“You too,” she whispers, her voice as sad as her expression.
Without another word, he takes Hannah back to the table, Gwen’s eyes following his every move.
I offer her a parting smile before making my own exit, Jessica falling in step behind me.
“What the heck was that about?” she whispers.
“I have no idea.” I want to question Thatcher further but decide it’s best to broach it another time when we are alone.
Once we arrive back at the table, Jessica slides in next to Craig while I take the only seat left that’s between Braxten and Justice.
Braxten slings his arm around my shoulders and steals a pickle off my plate.
“Hey, get your own,” I chide, elbowing him in the ribs.
“But yours is better.”
“How’s that?”
“Because I didn’t have to get up and get it.” He steals another one, tossing it into his mouth before giving me a cocky wink.
I shake my head but it’s with a smile. In all honesty, the banter between us lately has been good for my heart and has made being at the farm easier. Knox, on the other hand, mostly pretends I don’t exist.
“Don’t you know it’s a cardinal rule when it comes to women.” Craig chuckles, bringing me out of my thoughts. “Never mess with their food.”
“That’s right,” Jessica says, taking a heaping bite of casserole.
“She’s family now,” Braxten says. “She has to share with me.”
I tense, my mind going to only one place, evoking forbidden images.
Sensing my discomfort, he leans down to whisper in my ear. “Easy, spitfire, it was a joke.”
Maybe to him, but I find it no joking matter.
Justice rests his hand high on my upper thigh, his touch scorching me from the inside out. I take a hefty sip of my drink, needing the cool relief. Between the two of them, they’re liable to burn me alive.
The tension eases as conversation picks up and flows throughout dinner. We share a lot of laughs together, especially at the expense of Craig and Braxten. It’s easy, comfortable even. In a weird way, it feels like we’ve been friends our whole lives.
When Hannah and Amelia head over to play horseshoes in the corner, I catch Thatcher looking across the way at Gwen again.
“You should ask her to dance,” I say quietly but the entire table hears me.
His eyes snap to mine, realizing he’s been busted. He shakes his head. “Nah, I don’t think so.”
“Why not?” I ask. “I’ll bet she’d love to have someone to dance with since she’s alone, especially with a man as good on his feet as you.”
The compliment has him sitting up a little straighter. “You think?”
“I know,” I say with a smile.
“Go on, Thatcher,” Jessica encourages, giving him the extra push he needs. “Show her what you’re made of.”
“Oh, all right.” He stands with determination, starting his walk to the other end of the barn where she sits with a few other women.
“Thatch going after the snatch,” Braxten chuckles.
Horrified, I slap his arm. “Stop it, you’re terrible,” I scold while everyone else at the table laughs.
“He’s crazy for associating with her,” Knox says, anger lacing his words.
“Gwen is sweet,” I tell him. “She’s not like the rest of them.”
“It’s true,” Jess says, backing me up.
He doesn’t buy it. “Right, that’s why she was married to the biggest prick of them all.”
I really have no argument for that because she did stay with him all these years, something I will never understand. It’s not like he treated her well. Forrest treated her the way he treated everyone. Like she was beneath him. Like she was lucky to be in his presence. I can’t imagine how miserable it would have been to stay with a man like him.
All of our gazes become riveted as Thatcher reaches her. I hold my breath, waiting on pins and needles for her reply, praying she doesn’t reject him. My fears are put to rest when she nods, a shy smile taking over her face.
Hand in hand, they walk onto the dance floor, Thatcher pulling her close and gazing down at her in a way that is breathtakingly beautiful. It’s then I realize he’s been looking at her with longing this entire night, one so deep I feel it all the way to my soul.
“They’re adorable,” Jessica gushes, speaking my thoughts.
“Adorable my ass,” Braxten grunts. “He’s a Creed. We aren’t adorable. We’re badass.”
I roll my eyes. “Speak for yourself. All you boys could learn a thing or two from your father. I’d love for someone to dance with me like that.” I shoot Justice a look, letting him know exactly who I wish that someone was.
“I’m sure there are quite a few men here tonight that would love to dance with you like that,” Jessica says, cutting a teasing smile at Justice.
“Ryanne knows better.” His voice is low, a warning hidden within his tone.
I quirk a brow, taking it just one step further to get under his skin. “Since when is it a crime to dance with someone, Justice Creed?”
His dark eyes dominate mine as he leans in close, his face only a mere inch away. “We both know no one touches what’s mine.” The possessive words send a shiver down my spine and goose bumps breaking out across my skin.
My gaze is held captive by his just as strongly as my traitorous heart. It isn’t until his attention is stolen by Teddy Roper that I’m finally able to take in a breath. Jessica shoots me a look like she’s about to die along with me.
Needing a break from all the testosterone, I grab her hand and head to the dance floor when a more upbeat song comes on.
“Jesus, Mary, and Joseph I’m about to combust from all that hotness,” she says, sounding breathless. “Those Creed brothers are something else.”
That’s putting it mildly.
Their intense presence can be suffocating at times and my morbid curiosity is no help either. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t often wonder what really happens when the three of them have taken a woman to bed in the past. But no sooner than the thought emerges, it’s quickly snuffed out by the jealousy. Thinking of Justice with anyone else has me feeling nauseous.
I glance over my shoulder to find his watchful eyes on me, that predatory instinct masking his expression. Holding his unrelenting gaze, my hips start their rhythm, feet stomping and body twisting to Sam Hunt’s “Body Like a Back Road.”
His eyes darken further, never straying from mine as he brings the beer to his lips. Heat sweeps through me when I remember what he did to me the other night with a similar bottle, the forbidden images he brought forth by his erotic words.
Our connection is broken when Braxten leans over and murmurs something to him that has the three brothers standing and heading for the front entrance. Braxten stops to hug Hannah and Knox gives her a high five before walking out the doors.
Minutes pass as I wait for Justice to come back. Eventually, a slow song comes on and Jessica is whisked away by her husband, falling into a sensual dance.
I look around awkwardly for Thatcher but see he and Gwen are intimately talking in a corner. Turning around, I’m about to head back to the table but come to a quick stop when I find Justice standing only a few feet away.
My breath locks at the sight of him, strong and confident—always so powerful. Even now, here on this dance floor he is out of his element yet he doesn’t look one bit out of place.
“What are you doing?” I ask him.
“Waiting for you.”
My heart tumbles in my chest, a smile stealing my lips. It’s amazing what three words can evoke, what warmth and hope they can instill.
I collect a few steps, coming to a stop just in front of him. “Why? You gonna dance with me, Justice Creed?”
He pulls me against his hard body, his arms banding around me. “Yeah, and I’m going to grope you while doing it.”
My head falls back on a laugh. Rising up on my tiptoes, I wrap my arms around his neck. “I’ll take whatever I can get.”
He lifts me off my feet, bringing my mouth level with his for a toe-curling kiss. Everything and everyone falls away but the two of us, this moment in time coming to a standstill. I hold onto it long after the kiss is over, my forehead resting on his, fingers fanning his strong jaw.
“Where did you go earlier?”
“I walked my brothers out and said goodbye,” he explains. “Why?”
“I was worried you left me.” The admission is out before I can stop it, a note of insecurity in my voice.
“I’m not the one running, Ryanne.”
“I’m not either,” I whisper.
“Then marry me.”
I didn’t think those words could pack as powerful of a punch as they did the first time but I was wrong. They suck all the air from my lungs. If he only knew how much I want that. How much I want him forever, but not until I know I hold his heart as much as he does mine.
“Not yet,” I reply, the two words causing a deep ache in my chest and tears to prick my eyes.
Frustration burns in his dark irises but he keeps it at bay and doesn’t push. “Fine, then kiss me again.”
I smile at the demand, the heavy moment evaporating. “Now that I can do.”
My lips press to his, soft and gentle, and for the first time he doesn’t take over, he lets me set the pace.
