by Myla Jackson
“You’re right. I shouldn’t be out here. I think I’ll go back inside. I just came outside to thank you for the beautiful daisies.”
Mark grinned. “The flowers were Luke’s idea. Daisies were mine.”
“You both did good. Daisies are my favorite.” She gulped back a fresh sob and backed up another step. “Really, I’d better get back to work.”
“Before you go…” Luke reached out and captured her hand. “We didn’t hurt you last night, did we?”
She blinked hard to keep the tears from falling. “No. You didn’t hurt me.”
“Did my goofy brother offend you in any way?” Mark asked.
Luke punched him in the arm. “Hey.”
Libby choked on what could barely be called a laugh. “No, you were both wonderful.” That was the problem. She could very easily fall in love with them both…if she had more time.
“Then you’re still coming on the ride with us tomorrow?” Luke lifted her hand to his lips and kissed the knuckles. “Please.”
The look in his deep brown eyes melted a hole through her heart all the way into her soul. She couldn’t afford to spend another minute alone with Mark and Luke, yet she couldn’t reject them. “I don’t know.”
“She didn’t say no.” Mark swept her into his arms and planted a kiss on her lips.
“I didn’t say yes,” she reminded him breathlessly.
Luke gathered her close, his hands on either side of her cheeks. “We’ll be waiting.” Then he kissed her, his lips sliding over hers so gently, Libby’s knees buckled. If he hadn’t been holding her, she’d have melted to the ground. Biker-babe, huh! Pansy-ass, more like.
He set her away from him, tipped his hat and spun on his boot heels, striding away, reaching back to snag Mark’s arm to drag him along with him. Within seconds, the two men were gone, leaving her standing in the gravel, her heart breaking into a million little pieces.
That night Luke didn’t sleep at all. After he’d pulled Mark away from Libby, he’d climbed in his truck and headed straight for the sheriff’s office to have a talk with Jackson’s buddy, Deputy Cramer, about what he might have found on Libby.
Which wasn’t much. Unfortunately, or fortunately, no one by the name of Libby Jones had been reported missing in Texas or anywhere else in the nation.
“Next step is to check Libby’s description against the nationwide database of missing persons. But that will have to wait until tomorrow.” Deputy Cramer rose from behind his desk and stretched. “I’m beat, and unless you have more for me to go on, it could be a lengthy process.”
Disappointment sank Luke’s spirits. They knew so little about Libby. As the three men left the building, Luke remembered something Libby had said about not seeing the stars where she’d come from. He grabbed Cramer’s arm before the man walked away. “Start with persons reported missing from New York City.”
“That’ll help narrow it down a little. Although New York City probably has its fair share of missing persons.” Cramer waved. “I’ll do that first thing.”
Luke climbed into his truck and Mark slid into the passenger seat. With nothing more to go on, they were guaranteed a sleepless night, speculating on what made Libby want to skip town.
By five minutes after eleven o’clock the following day, Luke was so wound up he couldn’t stand still. He’d flown through the regular chores, replaced a broken corral panel and answered several business calls, and still no sign of Libby.
He tossed a section of hay into the feed rack in the stall of their prized bay stallion, Bootlegger.
The horse nickered, tossing his glossy black mane as if sensing Luke’s disquiet.
“Sorry, old man, can’t take you out today. Diablo’s coming and we want to impress the lady with our ability to maintain control, not lose it.”
“Did you pack the chilled bottle of wine?” Mark called from outside the barn.
“Sure did.” Luke led his gelding out of the barn and patted the saddlebag. He’d insisted on carrying the wine, not trusting Mark to get it there in one piece. “And I packed plastic wineglasses.”
“Good.” Mark rolled the brightly colored, woven Kiowa blanket and laid it over the back of his own saddlebag. “I have the sandwiches and chocolate strawberries. Women can’t resist chocolate strawberries.”
“She may not even come.” Luke shook his head, his gut clenching at the possibility.
“She’ll come.”
“How do you know?” He’d worried all night that she’d be a no-show.
“She didn’t say no.” Mark tied the saddlebag straps to his saddle and checked the tightness of the girth on his mount. “Damn, I forgot the suntan lotion.” He turned toward the house, ready to run.
“Calm down. I got it. Good grief, Mark, why are you trying so hard? We’ve known Libby for almost eight months.”
“This is the first time we’ve taken her out on a real date. Hell, it’s only the second time she hasn’t blown us off. And everything is riding on this day.”
“Don’t hang your hat on today.” Luke’s chest tightened. Libby was everything he’d ever dreamed of in a woman—smart, sexy, independent and beautiful. “No matter how hard we try, she might leave anyway.”
Mark stared across at Luke. “No, we finally found a woman we’re both crazy about and we’ve even agreed to share, we’re not going to let her just walk away.”
Luke wished Cramer had gotten back to them on his search of the missing persons’ database, but so far, not a word. They’d be flying blind with Libby, relying solely on whatever bits of information she deigned to impart. “You know, I bet she’s been burned before. We should treat her like a skittish colt. Gently. Give her a lot of space.”
“I’d like to give her a lot more than space. You’ve seen the way she moves, all sex and leather. Now that I know what’s really under all that biker-girl getup, I can’t get her out of my mind.”
Luke had studied Libby over the past eight months, and Mark was right. Libby had a natural grace and beauty that no amount of leather leggings or tough-girl attitude could hide. “She’s always acted like a badass, but based on last night, I’d say she’s good at putting on a front. She’s been hurt and she’s afraid of being hurt again.”
“Maybe so. It’s up to us to show her that not all men are dickwads.” Mark’s face broke into a grin. “I told you she’d come.”
The rumble of a motorcycle announced Libby’s arrival. She rode up in a black leather jacket and matching chaps and gloves, her long, curly auburn hair streaming out from beneath the black helmet.
Mark tied off his horse and the one he’d selected for Libby and hurried forward to meet her.
“Remember what I said, Mark,” Luke warned as Libby revved her engine one last time.
The three horses danced sideways, tugging against their leads.
Libby switched the key off, the engine noise ceased and the horses calmed. She pulled her helmet off and shook out her hair, her mirrored sunglasses hiding her eyes.
“My kind of woman—all sass and attitude.” Mark reached for her helmet.
Luke’s groin tightened, his thoughts echoing Mark’s words. Damn, the woman looked incredibly dark and dangerous, sparking every nerve in his body to life, sending a rush of warm blood to one particular lower extremity.
She refused to let Mark take her helmet. “I’m not sure I’m staying.”
“You came this far, you might as well.” Luke stayed back, pretending indifference when he wanted to steal her key from her so that she couldn’t take off.
She glanced at the three horses saddled and ready. “You two were pretty certain I’d show.”
“Not certain…hopeful.” Mark grinned and stepped toward his horse. “We have a picnic lunch, wine and a blanket. All we need is you and we’re ready to go.”
“Where?” she asked.
Luke smiled. “To see our special project.”
Her brows rose. “You two have a special project?”
“Yes,
ma’am, we do.” Luke tipped his cowboy hat.
Libby’s eyes narrowed and she chewed her bottom lip. “You know, the night before last was pretty spontaneous, and it was great and all, but it makes me wonder, do you always do everything together?”
Mark shrugged. “For the most part.”
Her lips pressed together into a thin line. “Do you always share the same women?”
Libby’s direct question made Luke wonder if their answer would convince her to stay or leave? He opted for the truth. “Not usually. Only if she’s special.”
“And, if she’s willing and worth sharing.” Mark glanced Luke. “We don’t want to fight over anyone.”
Luke nodded. They’d had their differences, but they loved each other. “We agreed it’s not worth losing a brother over.”
Mark grinned. “We have to admit, sharing a woman between us keeps things interesting.”
Libby’s eyes were hidden by the sunglasses so Luke didn’t have a hint as to what she was thinking, but a smile quirked the corners of her lips. “Speaking of sharing…I meant to ask the other night…was Audrey one of the women you shared?”
Broadsided by her question. Luke exchanged a look with Mark and then winked at Libby. “We don’t kiss and tell.”
Mark ducked his head, a smile sliding across his face.
For a long moment Libby remained seated on the motorcycle, her gaze running from Luke to Mark.
Luke swung up in his saddle and turned his horse around to face Libby, more nervous than he cared to admit, waiting for Libby to commit to coming, while thinking of ways to keep her from driving off should she decide not to. “Since you said you ride, I assume you know one end of the horse from the other. You know how to mount?”
Libby sucked in a deep breath and let it out, then swung her leg over the bike seat. “I do.” She laid her helmet on the back of the motorcycle, removed her sunglasses, tucking them into the helmet, and then walked toward him.
The knot in Luke’s gut loosened and he fought to keep from smiling.
“Want me to give you a leg up?” Mark brought forward the bay mare they’d selected for Libby to ride.
“No thanks. I like doing things on my own,” she said, her voice edgy.
Mark handed her the reins. “This is Jezebel, one of the mares we use for breeding stock. She’s a good, solid ride, no surprises.”
“She’s beautiful.” Libby smoothed her hand over the animal, lifting the stirrup to check the tightness of the girth. Then she slipped the reins over the mare’s neck and patted her flanks, speaking soothingly as she placed her black boot into the left stirrup and floated up into the saddle like it was second nature to her. She sat tall, her back poker straight, the reins in separate hands like someone used to riding English-style.
“’Round here, we ride western-style—reins together.” Luke held up his reins in one hand. “Jezebel responds to the lightest movement of the straps over her neck.”
Placing both reins in one hand, Libby tugged the pair to the left. Jezebel turned left. She performed the same instruction going right, then nodded to Luke. “Ready?”
“Ready,” he answered and led off at a walk.
Mark unlatched the gate for them, opening out into the pasture stretching to the west across pastures of second-growth new hay only a foot deep and as green as an emerald blanket.
Luke led the way through, waiting for Libby and Mark to come abreast.
Then he set the pace at an easy, smooth canter, suddenly anxious to show Libby what he and his brother had been working on. He hoped she liked it.
The sun shone down from a bright, summer sky filled with puffy white clouds. The land stretched before them over rolling hills. As they rode to the top of each rise, they could see all around, not a house, person or car in sight besides the three of them. Luke and Mark had chosen the location of their project because it was far off the beaten path. Sure, they could drive in from the road, and they did when they had to bring in lumber and supplies, but Luke had wanted to take the horses to show Libby that riding horses could be just as open and free as riding the open road on a motorcycle. Even more so.
They rode in silence, down into green valleys, wading through sparkling brooks and up over the tops of ridges. When they came to the grasslands surrounding a particularly tall hill, Luke glanced over at Libby. “Up for a little race?”
Her eyes narrowed. “Question is, are you?”
He nodded. “To the top of the hill.”
Before the last word left Luke’s lips, Libby dug her heels into the mare’s flanks. The horse leaped forward, galloping across a wide swath of lush green grass.
Mark, riding Diablo, the black stallion who’d sired many of the horses the ranch was known for, took the lead, the horse's long neck stretching forward.
Luke’s gelding strained to catch up to the mare, settling into a steady gallop alongside. Luke purposely held his mount back to allow Libby to reach the top at the same time as he did.
Libby bent over her mare, almost touching her neck, her eyes narrowed, lips set in a firm line of concentration. When they topped the hill, Libby pulled back on the reins, laughing, her burnished copper hair tangled, her face flushed, and her green eyes glistening in the bright Texas sun.
Luke’s breath caught in his throat. Damn, the woman was even more beautiful in natural lighting than in the darker interior of the Ugly Stick Saloon. And she’d come out to play with them. His groin tightened and his hands squeezed the reins as he prayed he and his brother could somehow convince her to stay.
Chapter Six
With a whoop, Libby spun her horse around and waited for the two men to join her.
The rush of air in her face, the speed of her ascent up the hill and the view when she arrived took her breath away. The land slipped down and away from the hill with a three-hundred-sixty degree view of sky that went on forever, not a single building, person or vehicle within sight, except for the shell of what looked like a future home crowning the hilltop. It was a perfect location, away from it all. For a brief moment Libby wished it could be hers.
A gentle breeze stirred tendrils of hair against her cheeks. She’d been many places on the back of her Harley and in her other life, traveling with her family, but never had she seen anywhere as isolated and peaceful. She felt as if she stood at the edge of the world, a launching point in which she could choose any direction.
“What do you think of our project?” Luke asked.
Libby had barely noticed when the other two horses had joined hers. Nor had she been aware the men had dismounted. Her chest swelled, her heart hammering against her ribs. “Beautiful.”
“Yes, you are.” Luke stood beside her, reaching up his hands, capturing her around her waist.
Stunned by the splendor around her, she didn’t resist when he swung her down out of the saddle and onto her feet. Nor did she squawk when he pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Your eyes are shining. I take it you like our little corner of heaven.” As quickly as he’d kissed her, he set her away, putting distance between them.
Libby marveled that she hadn’t had the urge to run. Having Luke hold her close and kiss her didn’t make her squirm and want to push away. In New York City, she’d been labeled the Debutante Ice Queen. So many men saw her as a challenge, sure that they could win her heart and tap into her father's riches, when all she wanted was to be left alone.
Not so with Luke and Mark. They seemed to instinctively know when to hold her and when to let her go.
With so much sunshine and sky around her, she felt as if she were perched on a cloud.
Because the men seemed to be anxiously awaiting her verdict on their building, she turned her attention to the house.
Built of timbers and glass, the one-story home appeared to have light streaming in, through and around it, with no apparent solid walls on the outside. A wooden deck surrounded all four sides and the structure was capped by a roof with skylights almost as frequent as the solar panels positioned
to collect the abundant source of the sky’s energy.
Libby moved toward the house. “Is this one of your construction projects?” She’d known they were both in construction, one the builder, the other the designer. From what Audrey had said, they did well as a team, making a living even in tough economic times because of their ingenious designs and quality.
Mark hurried ahead of her, taking the steps two at a time up onto the deck, carrying a saddlebag and a rolled-up blanket. “We started it about four months ago, and should finish in another two.”
She climbed the wide wooden steps to the deck that was absent of any wooden railing, adding to the effect of openness and freedom. “It’s beautiful here and…so quiet.”
Luke stood beside her, staring out at the land and sky. “We like to come here to get away from the noise.”
“Really?” She rolled her eyes. “I see you at the Ugly Stick often enough, making some of that noise.”
“See? She does notice us.” Mark grinned at Luke. “We like to make noise when we like to, but when the day is done, we come out here for the peace.”
Luke stared out over the land. “It’s where we do our best thinking.”
“I can see why. It’s remarkable.” Libby gazed at the landscape, one hand resting over her heart, her chest filling with a huge sense of coming home. She tried to push it back, but the sensation wouldn’t abate and it scared her.
“We call it Skyview.” Luke smiled. “We don’t need fancy pictures on the walls, nature is the best artwork we’ve discovered.”
Mark stood on her other side, still holding the blanket, having slung his saddlebag over his shoulder. “Hungry?”
“A little.” Libby was surprised at how hungry she was. Because she’d been so upset by her pending move, she hadn’t been able to eat all day yesterday nor that morning. The ride out, the open air and sunshine must have been doing her some good, resurrecting her appetite.
Having lived in Temptation, Texas for eight months was making her antsy, impatient, fearful, and aware it was about time to move on or be discovered.
