Redheaded Stranger: A Cowboy Love Story (Bluebonnet, Texas)

by Amie Stuart

  Redheaded Stranger

  by

  Amie Stuart

  COPYRIGHT

  This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the author's imagination and used fictitiously.

  REDHEADED STRANGER Copyright © 2015 Amie Stuart

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

  Cover design by Melissa Blue, Melissa Blue Designs

  Edited by Megan Stevens

  Published by Dancehall Diaries Ltd. / www.amiestuart.com

  With the exception of quotes used in reviews, this book may not be reproduced or used in whole or in part by any means existing without written permission from author.

  This book is licensed for your personal use only. No part of this work may be sold, manipulated, or reproduced in any format without express written permission from the authors, except for brief quotations embodied in or reviews. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the authors' rights. Purchase only authorized editions

  The author does not have any control over, and does not assume any responsibility for third-party Websites or their content.

  BLURB

  When Keilana Boudreaux married the love of her life, Alexander Boudreaux, she understood that he was estranged from his family, but the birth of their son changes everything.

  Nobody holds a grudge like a redhead—Alexander is proof of that. Ten years ago he found out his father had an affair...and a child. Unable to forgive or forget, he's stayed away until one fateful Thanksgiving when instead of telling his family about his own marriage (and child), he loses his cool.

  But Zander isn’t the only one with a fiery temper. When Kei finds out what really happened, she issues an ultimatum—tell your family about us or else. Zander refuses and Kei takes matters into her own hands, packs up the car and heads for Bluebonnet, Texas, and her unsuspecting in-laws.

  *Warning this book contains a secret baby (or two), family feuds, and married people having hot sexy times.

  You can always find out about my latest release via my newsletter!

  DEDICATION:

  This one's for Melissa Blue. It's all your fault.

  XOXO

  Table of Contents

  Blurb

  PROLOGUE

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  MORE BLUBONNET

  WHAT’S NEXT?

  Prologue

  "I cannot believe you let Alex leave you alone for Thanksgiving," John Shakela spoke from his position over the turkey fryer. He’d stationed himself at the far end of the patio and instructed the kids to stay inside while he fried the twelve-pound bird.

  "Didn't really have much choice."

  "Keilana—" Connie called from the kitchen window, "–he should have taken you both with him. Just ripped off the Band-Aid."

  "I know." Sighing, I set down my wine glass and met John Junior, who’d appeared at the door with a squirming Darrach in his arms. "Thanks, baby."

  Thanksgiving in Texas had turned out to be a balmy day with crystal blue skies and very little wind. The type of day made for sitting outside as long as possible. But spending Thanksgiving with friends wasn’t exactly what I’d had in mind.

  "You're welcome, Aunt Kei."

  I reclaimed my seat, then settled the baby on my lap to continue my conversation. "But since he didn’t, I appreciate you guys taking us in for the holiday."

  "That’s what best friends are for." He saluted me with his beer can, then nodded toward the door where John Junior stood teasing one of his sisters. "You kids settle down. We're eating soon."

  "Yes, Dad."

  "And tell the girls I said for all of you to set the table for your mother."

  "Yes, Dad."

  The glass door slid closed, and John and I exchanged grins. From the kitchen came the soft sound of his wife Connie’s laughter.

  I settled my own son on my lap. "You know, he's the best of a pretty good lot there, John."

  "I do know," John said, "and I intend to keep him that way."

  "I just hope mine turn out half as well." Before I could say more, my cell phone rang. "Speak of the devil. It’s Alex." Grimacing nervously, I hit ‘talk’, anxious to find out how my husband’s trip home had gone.

  "Hey baby. It's me."

  "Alex!" Wishing I had a free hand to sip my wine with, I nervously picked at Darrach's curls instead. Had he told them? How did they react? "I thought you’d be in the middle of dinner by now?"

  "Naw. I made my peace, but not exactly how we thought."

  "Alex," I scolded, struggling to speak past the disappointment that clogged my throat. My family was in Hawaii; Alex’s family was just a few hours away, but thanks to his temper, they might as well have been in Hawaii, too. He was supposed to have told his family about us—about Darrach and me.

  "I tried. I really did, but I just couldn’t..."

  I listened reluctantly to the rest of his explanation, while our infant son tilted his head back and watched me, his blue eyes as bright as his father's. After hanging up, I drained my wine glass then cursed under my breath.

  "He didn’t tell them, did he?" John asked.

  Barely able to speak, I shook my head, then worked out a, "Nope."

  Sighing, he came to stand in front of me. "Do you think it’s because they won’t approve?"

  "I don’t know," I said, and I honestly didn’t. We’d been married for three years after a whirlwind courtship. Initially, I’d accepted that he was estranged from his family, but now we had a child. "He says it's because his half-sister is now living with his parents." At John's raised eyebrow I explained, "His dad cheated."

  "Whoa." John looked as grim as I felt. "Cheating’s pretty serious business."

  "I agree, but is that really it or is it just an excuse?"

  Chapter One: Alexander

  Alexander Boudreaux eyed the ringing cell phone on his desk and briefly considered not answering it. The Caller ID showed his parent’s number. They'd been strangely silent since Thanksgiving. On the one hand, he was glad they'd left him alone. He'd had a hard enough time handling Kei's disappointment. She didn't understand; she hadn't been there. She hadn't seen his parents with Delaney and his brothers, acting like her being there was the most normal thing in the world. Kei, of course, had reminded him that her absence was his fault. She'd just have to accept that this was how things had to be.

  He answered, reluctantly, worried they'd keep calling back and wake the baby if he didn't. "Hello."

  "Alexander?"

  "Momma." He dropped his pencil and exhaled slowly, preparing himself for an ass-chewing because she only called him Alexander when she was ticked at him. "How—"

  "Your father asked me to call and let you know that Bettina lost the baby."

  Click.

  Shit. He’d gone home for Thanksgiving intent on clearing the air. He’d planned on telling them about Kei and Darrach. He’d rehearsed it all in his head, tried to visualize how it all would go, but some things were unforgiveable. Infidelity was one of those things. And the sight of Delaney at the family table talking about blessings had sent him over the edge. So he’d lost it, insulted everybody, and left a shitstorm in his wake that had, apparently, resulted in his sister-in-law having a miscarriage. Maybe he hadn’t be
en the direct cause, but he sure hadn’t helped matters.

  His hand shook as he dropped the phone, a wave of panic slugged him in the gut. Thank God Kei had decided to take a bubble bath, thank God she hadn’t heard the phone ring, because if she ever found out just how wrong Thanksgiving had gone, she’d kill him. They’d lost their first baby two years ago. He knew how badly that miscarriage had hurt the both of them, and if Kei found out about Betti’s miscarriage, she’d skin him alive.

  After powering down his laptop, he silently made his way through the townhouse, wiped down the kitchen counters one last time, checked the back door and set the alarm before heading upstairs, his footsteps muffled by thick carpet. At Darrach’s door he stopped and listened to his son breathe. He quietly crossed the dimly lit room to the crib, unable to resist a smile.

  Nine months old, and just as sturdy and tough as a Mack truck, Darrach lay sprawled out on his back, his thumb millimeters from his tiny lips. Soft, dark curls covered his head and long dark lashes fanned his chubby baby cheeks.

  "You wake him up and I’ll use your Glock on you," a voice behind him purred.

  Smothering another wave of guilt, Zander tucked the baby blanket under his son’s chin and turned to find his wife leaning against the doorjamb, arms crossed over her chest. Her hair was wrapped in a towel and she wore brief panties and a worn cotton bathrobe. Warmth pooled in his chest, and all the tension eased from his back and shoulders.

  For a man who’d spent his whole life drooling after blondes, Keilana was a leap off the beaten path, and a choice he'd never regretted. She was also his soul mate. He’d known it the first time he saw her standing in the cafeteria line at the FBI field office in Atlanta three years ago, when she’d flashed her big, laughing, brown eyes at him.

  She yanked the towel from her hair, dropped it on the floor, and ran her hands through her thick, short curls. "Ready for bed?"

  "You bet’cha," he whispered, his blood heating with every step he took toward her. Tonight, more than ever, he needed her. He stopped to grab the towel, then leaned into his wife.

  "I love you," he whispered, right before he caught her arm and covered her full lips with his. His jeans tightened as his cock swelled at the feel of her pressed against him.

  "Take me to bed, Alex," she begged.

  He was only too happy to oblige. He led her across the wide, dimly lit hall to their room, stopping beside the bed to peel the ancient robe from her body. She took it from him, dropping it and the towel on the floor. She giggled while he shook his head and sank down on the queen-sized bed. He leaned over and planted a soft kiss on her slightly rounded stomach, the scent of her arousal teasing him. She leaned in, squirmed against him, tangling her hands in his hair as he rubbed his stubbled chin across her stretch marks.

  "I love you, too," she hissed, her fingers kneading his scalp. "Just in case you were wondering, you redheaded devil."

  His eyes never left her face as he leaned up and caught one dusky nipple in his mouth and rolled it around, nibbling at it, savoring the texture of it against his tongue.

  He released her just long enough to undress, fumbling with the button-fly on his jeans at the sight of her stretched out on the bed, her hands skimming her belly then cupping her breasts. He stretched out beside her, the box springs protesting slightly as she rolled over and mounted him. She obviously wasn’t in the mood to play.

  "You shaved," he gasped, moaning at the smooth, slick feel of her against him. His eyes traveled the length of her, and sure enough she had. No wonder she was so wet. She’d planned this, and other than a small sprinkling of hairs, her mons was nearly nude.

  They knew each other’s likes and wants inside and out. She rode him with skill; her hips plunged and teased, coaxing him higher. He slipped his fingers between their bodies and found her swollen clitoris, smiling and grunting when she jerked against him in response. Her head rolled back, revealing the long column of her throat. She growled and moaned long and low as her tiny, sharp nails dug into his chest.

  "Alex," she cried. "Do it."

  "You sure?"

  "Yes," she ground from between clenched teeth.

  He’d give her whatever she wanted. He always had—or almost always.

  He pushed the thought away.

  She covered him, her head buried in the crook of his neck, her hot breath fanning his skin as she panted with excitement. With both hands, he cupped the cheeks of her ass, squeezing and rubbing them softly before he smacked her hard.

  Her squeal ended with another harsh, "Yes," as she tightened around him, squeezing his cock in a vise grip.

  He moaned and waited for just the right moment to do it again.

  There! The palm of his hand made contact with the smooth skin of her ass, and she sank her teeth into his shoulder. Her fingers tugged at his short hair. "More, please."

  He kneaded her ass to take the sting out and waited. Again and three times more, the loud smacks mingling with their heavy breathing and then her squeals as she came. He took a couple of long, deep breaths, not ready to release his last shred of control, enjoying the feel of her orgasm as she shook and panted against his neck. It was always so damn good with her. He wrapped his arms around Kei and rubbed her back, waiting until she caught her breath.

  "My turn," he whispered as she finally relaxed against him with a deep, shuddering sigh.

  "Can I make you come?" she whispered against his lips.

  "You always make me come."

  She chuckled and wrapped her arms around his neck as he rolled her over onto her back.

  "You are so wet." He shivered and smiled, losing himself in the feel of her. She peppered his chest with little kisses and love bites he felt in his gut. "Oh, Kei," he hissed in her ear.

  This was his favorite. The anticipation, the home stretch, the feel of his balls heavy and tight as he pumped into her like a piston, challenging himself to see how long he could last before he absolutely had to come. Or Kei begged him to. Often he could last long enough to make her come again. That was the best: feeling her underneath him, her legs wrapped around him, her nails digging into his back.

  But tonight he didn’t have it in him to play games with himself. He needed her. He settled his weight on her and wrapped his arms around her, stroking furiously, losing himself in the hot, slick friction of her against him.

  Don’t think. Don’t think at all.

  "Kei, oh God. Oh, Keilana!"

  She held him as he came inside of her, his head turned away, his jaw locked against need, anger, and frustration, all mixed with a little guilt.

  After his heart settled back in his chest, he propped himself on his elbows with a deep sigh and cupped her face in his hands, covering it with kisses.

  No, this was the best part.

  "I love you, Keilana," he murmured. "I love you so much."

  He maintained his grip on her while gently slipping from the warm depths of her body, and snuggled together, they slept.

  * * *

  Under the shower's hot spray the next morning, his mind drifted back to his brother and sister-in-law. Again, guilt gnawed at him, leaving him queasy.

  He’d send her flowers.

  Alex quickly finished his morning toilette, picked up Kei's towel and robe she'd deliberately dropped the night before, and made the bed, then headed downstairs, a navy blue suit jacket in hand. He fried bacon and scrambled eggs for the both of them while Kei fed Darrach. He sipped his coffee and stirred the eggs, one eye on his son, who was busy giving his mother fits.

  "Quit looking at him," Kei scolded. "That’s the reason he’s spitting it out."

  It being his cereal. Zander chuckled. "Hey, boy." Darrach’s head snapped up and blue eyes met blue. "Eat."

  The baby grinned, proudly showing off his first four teeth and dimples while allowing even more cereal to drip down his chin. Kei growled and got a towel from the drawer behind him while he dished up their breakfast and smothered his laughter.

  After breakfast, Ale
x got Darrach cleaned up and kept him busy while Kei finished getting ready for work. She reappeared thirty minutes later, her conservative navy suit offset by a ruffly, shocking pink blouse. He grinned at her and shook his head as she gathered up the baby’s diaper bag and they headed out the door. Conservative was the FBI mantra, and while Alex always adhered to policy, she pushed it.

  They dropped Darrach at daycare, then navigated downtown Dallas traffic to work, parting ways just inside the lobby’s security checkpoint. They’d said their real goodbyes in the car earlier with a heated necking session that had left Alex buttoning his suit coat to cover the evidence.

  He refused to kiss her in front of his co-workers, but that didn’t stop her from swatting him on the rear as he stepped in the elevator. With a grin and a shake of his head, Zander headed for the Cyber Squad. As a support staff member of the Evidence Response Team, Kei worked in a different area of the building processing crime scene information.

  He was so caught up in memories of the previous evening’s encounter with Kei, he stepped off the elevator and found himself maneuvering around a junior agent whose arms were filled with coffee and files.

  "What’s so funny, Boudreaux?" Special Agent Dade asked.

  Alex paused and turned on his heel. He’d overheard Dade and a handful of the other young agents talking about him last week. They’d said he was boring, an old fogy at thirty, and anal-retentive to boot. Zander looked the younger agent up and down, taking in his polished shoes and red paisley tie. Young, blond and buff, but somewhere up there he does have a brain, or he wouldn’t be an agent.

  "Nothing. Why?" He continued down the hall with a shake of his head. He had neither the time nor the patience.

  In his office, he flicked on the light and set his briefcase on his desk. He had four cases to do updates on, but first he needed to send Bettina those flowers. Thirty minutes later, he hung up with the florist he’d found in San Antonio who’d guaranteed to deliver a bouquet of roses and carnations by noon. He’d figure out a way to explain the charge to Kei later.

  The day passed in a blur as he updated case files, breaking in the early afternoon for a quick lunch with Kei and John Shakela, his best friend and a fellow Special Agent. Over sandwiches at a nearby restaurant, he asked Kei what she wanted for her anniversary.