by Lexi Blake
He had no idea what his sister saw in the man.
“It’s called being a foreman. I know ranching.” At least he used to. He’d spent a couple of weeks at a ranch in Willow Fork recently. He’d been happy that it had all seemed to come back to him. He’d even enjoyed the easy camaraderie he’d had with the other hands. He was genuinely looking forward to getting started at O’Malley’s ranch.
“Yeah, well, I would have said you knew football, too,” Bryce grumbled.
“Stop,” Shelley said under her breath. “You promised.”
It had been like this ever since he’d walked in the door of his sister’s house. Bryce had tried to cut him down in a million different ways. Bryce had come home and immediately asked if Shelley had hired a new lawn-care man because the truck in the driveway obviously belonged to the help and should be parked in the back of the house where it wouldn’t offend anyone.
Yeah, he loved hanging out with his brother-in-law.
“Football and I didn’t get along.” He looked back at the menu. There was no point in going deeper than that. Bryce wouldn’t understand the myriad of reasons he’d left behind a profitable career. He had the talent for the game, but he couldn’t handle the pressure. Leo had tried to get him to understand that didn’t mean he was a failure. The words still rung hollow.
“Trev always was a cowboy.” Shelley seemed determined to put a positive light on everything. “He used to ride the fences with Daddy every morning. He wasn’t even eight years old, but he would get up before dawn and help out.”
He’d liked that time with his dad. Everything was peaceful and quiet. Later on in the day, his father had a million responsibilities, but in the pale light right after dawn, it had been just Trev and his father.
Maybe if he hadn’t discovered he could throw a damn football, he would have been riding the fences that morning his father had a heart attack. Maybe his father wouldn’t have died and Momma wouldn’t have had to find him out in the south field, his old horse nudging him like the damn thing was trying to wake the man up. Trev had started junior year two-a-days earlier that week. He’d rarely talked to his dad after he’d started football, but the old man had come to every game.
“Trev was always a natural with horses, too. He always did ride better than me. I miss riding.” Shelley took a sip of her tea. “Maybe Lexi wouldn’t mind if I came out and used her stables. I know they’ve got some well-trained horses out there.”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Bryce said, frowning. “We talked about this, babe.”
A bit of Shelley’s light faded, but she smiled anyway. “Of course. I have things I need to concentrate on, anyway. I got a new client. The mayor asked me to redesign his office.”
Bryce nodded. “Yes, that’s right. You need to concentrate on your business. Hey, did you hear the Hobbes girl bought old lady Bellows’s place? I had hoped we could snap that sucker up. I assumed the auction would be months out, but they got that will through probate damn fast. Who would have guessed the old lady would leave everything she had to a damn animal shelter?”
“I thought it was smart of them to auction it all off. They made a bundle,” Shelley said.
Bryce’s eyes narrowed, his irritation plain. “I would have paid them more. It’s the perfect place to put a strip mall.”
Shelley rolled her deep-brown eyes. “Yes, tear down the gorgeous house to put in a strip mall. We need another dollar store.”
The bell rang as the door to the diner swung open.
“Speak of the devil.” Bryce turned to greet the newcomers.
Oh, but what walked in that door didn’t even vaguely resemble a devil. He felt every nerve in his body go on high alert as a brunette breezed through the doorway. She wore an old-fashioned yellow sundress that showed off an hourglass figure and complemented her complexion. The sweet-looking dress nipped in her middle and plunged exactly where it should, emphasizing her waist and her luscious breasts. Most women in his life didn’t have curves like that. Even at The Club in Dallas, he’d been surrounded by wealthy, fashionable women. They tended to be slender and well made-up. Most had had a nip and tuck by the time they hit twenty-five.
Not this woman. She was natural. As far as he could tell, she wasn’t wearing any makeup past a touch of mascara. Her skin was fair, with an almost translucent quality. No spray tan for that lovely lady. He let his eyes roam as she glanced around, obviously looking for a table. A waitress approached, and the woman got the sweetest smile on her face. Her eyes glanced down before she forced them back up. Even then she spoke quietly.
He’d been trained to look for signs, and every bit of that training told him he’d just hit the jackpot. There was a sure intelligence in her brown eyes that coupled with her obvious submissive nature made her exactly his type. If the universe had reached into his libido and pulled out his perfect lover, the woman would be damn close to the woman in the yellow dress.
Her hair was pulled back in a bun. If she was his, he would walk straight up to her and tangle his hands in it. He would force her hair to spill over her shoulders, drowning her in brown and gold silk. From the massive size of that knot at the back of her head, he would bet that hair reached almost to her waist. And it would be soft, like the woman herself. She would be silky and sweet. She would kneel at his feet, and when she looked up at him, he would feel ten feet tall. He wouldn’t feel like a failure. He would feel like her Master.
This woman was soft, so soft it practically poured off her. When her lips turned up in a shy smile, he wondered what they would feel like on his cock.
Fuck. It had been too damn long since he’d had sex. He thought about the small bag he’d brought with him. Julian Lodge had given it to him the day he’d finished his training and was allowed to work with subs in The Club. Leo had laughed and told him never to be caught without his kit. At one point in time, Trev had always carried around an athletic bag. Now he carried a small leather one with lube and ropes and a whip.
You never know when a little sub is going to need some discipline, Leo always said.
He imagined her tied up and spread on his bed, awaiting his pleasure.
And then he noticed the man beside her. A tall, strong cowboy in Levi’s, a western shirt, and well-worn boots. Blond hair curled out from under his Stetson.
Bo O’Malley.
The exact person he didn’t want to see. He owed Bo O’Malley one of those long, rambling apologies he never seemed to get good at. It was something every addict got used to, but he wasn’t looking forward to it. He’d forced himself to apologize to many people, but he was pretty sure Bo O’Malley wasn’t going to listen.
Bo put a hand to the pretty woman’s waist and started to lead her to an empty booth on the opposite side of the diner. The woman’s head turned. Her eyes trailed back and locked on to him. They widened in recognition.
He felt his stomach knot. He couldn’t change his face or his past. He hated the way people looked at him now.
Except she smiled shyly, as though she was looking at a stranger and trying to be polite.
Damn, but he wanted to eat her up.
“Do you know Mouse?” Shelley asked, an expectant look on her face.
“Mouse?” He had to force his eyes away. The woman with the brown hair scooted into her booth. She faced his way but looked at Bo. Was she his wife? Shelly hadn’t mentioned Bo had married.
Bryce snorted. “Mouse Hobbes.”
He searched his brain, trying to connect that face to a name. “Bethany Hobbes?”
A vision of a ridiculously shy girl from his high school whispered across his mind. She’d been younger than him. She’d been smart, but quiet. Utterly ignored. He couldn’t ignore her now. He hadn’t reacted this way to a woman in years. His hands tightened around his coffee mug. Despite the ache in his groin, it felt damn good to want something, anything besides a drink.
Bryce continued. “Poor girl’s been chasing after that cowboy since they were kids from what I hear
. I have no idea why he lets her hang around. She’s been his shadow for years.”
“She’s not his girlfriend?” His cock had been at half-staff, but the idea that she was unattached had an effect on him. His cock hardened to the point that he could probably pound nails with the damn thing.
Submissive. The word floated in his brain like a butterfly. That woman right there was submissive, and she probably had no idea what the word meant. He could show her. He could train her.
Now Bryce outright laughed. “Mouse? Mouse doesn’t have a boyfriend. I don’t think the girl has ever even been kissed. Who the hell in this town would kiss old Mouse?”
Trev could think of a couple of places he’d like to kiss her. Those full lips. Her round breasts. She probably had a plump pussy. He could put his mouth on all of those places. Never been kissed. Never been fucked. Never knelt at her Master’s feet. That fact should have sent him running. It didn’t. It merely made him think about the fact that she knew absolutely nothing about a lifestyle she might enjoy. And he could teach her.
But apparently she was in love with Bo. Hadn’t he taken enough from Bo?
“Her name is Bethany.” He didn’t like the nickname. It smacked of a put-down. He might not get to know the woman, but he wasn’t about to allow anyone to put her down around him. He knew the way things worked. If she was submissive and no one watched out for her, she could get ground beneath everyone’s feet.
Bryce snorted. “Good luck with getting that to change. She even calls herself Mouse.”
If she was his, everyone would change or they would have to deal with him. And that included her sweet ass.
“So, do you really want to order from a Podunk, piece-of-shit, hole-in-the-wall?” The waitress stared down at him. He hadn’t seen her walk up. He’d been far too taken by this sweet little Mouse. Bethany. Her name was Bethany. He was going to give her the respect she deserved.
Damn. The waitress’s words reached his brain. He’d called this place a shithole in fucking People magazine. He’d said a lot of things in the tabloids he shouldn’t have said. The reporter had practically cackled as she wrote the story. And he’d fucked her. And gotten high with her.
He turned his face up to meet the waitress’s glare. Patty’s hair had more gray in it, but she still looked like she could kill a man with nothing more than her glare. “I am sorry, ma’am. I’ve always loved this place, ever since I was a kid. I didn’t right know what I was saying at the time. I pretty much hated myself, so I said awful things about everyone.”
She simply stared. “Well, I could certainly see why you would hate yourself. Do you want to order something, or do we small-town idiots not even know how to make a burger?”
He wasn’t going to win with her. “I would love a burger.”
Hopefully she didn’t spit in it.
Shelley ordered, her mouth tight and tense. Bryce simply sighed and chose not to eat.
Patty walked away, her feet beating against the linoleum.
Bryce scooted out of the bench. “I should go back to the office. You two enjoy your time together. I hope once Trevor gets to work, he won’t have much time for us.”
“You hope?” Shelley asked.
“I meant suspect. I suspect.” Bryce shrugged as though it didn’t bother him. “He’s going to be living at the ranch. I doubt he’ll get out much. I mean, ranching is such hard work. That’s what everyone tells me.”
Bryce pivoted on his expensive loafers and walked away.
Shelley turned sad eyes his way. “Don’t mind him. He hasn’t been the same since his best friend died. He’s been a bit lost. Barry was his business partner. He died a few months back. Bad accident. He’s had a lot to deal with.”
And Bryce had obviously dealt with it by being the biggest asshole known to man. He leaned forward and took his sister’s hand in his. “Are you happy with him?”
She suddenly seemed to find the tabletop endlessly interesting. “He’s my husband.”
He tightened his fingers around hers. “That doesn’t answer my question.”
She pulled away. “You weren’t around when Mom got sick. You don’t know what it was like. I needed someone, and Bryce was there. He isn’t the best husband in the world, but damn it, he was there when I needed him.”
He sat back, his stomach in knots. Of course. Shelley had married right around the time their mother had been diagnosed with stage three esophageal cancer. Trev had been drunk off his ass the night his mother had called to tell him. He was pretty sure he’d hung up on her and went right back to his party.
When the bills from her treatment had kicked in, he had been almost tapped out. He’d sold his house and only managed to give his sister a measly ten grand after he’d paid off all his bills. Bryce had probably had to pay the balance. No wonder the man hated him.
“Sorry. I won’t mention it again.” Small talk. He needed small talk. His eyes strayed to Bethany. He wanted to ask about her. She’d been so smart in high school. Why hadn’t she gone off to college? Why was she still hanging out in Deer Run? He didn’t ask, though. She wasn’t his, and he fucked up everything he touched. He would leave her be. “So, I heard the rodeo was great this year.”
Shelley reached out. “I didn’t mean to make you feel bad.”
He ached inside. “Not at all. It’s all right. Now tell me about the rodeo.”
* * * *
Bo managed to not roll his eyes as Bryce Hughes approached. He was a pretentious son of a bitch who always overdressed for the occasion. The man wore slacks and a blazer to the annual county fair. And he always looked down on cowboys.
“Mr. O’Malley.” Bryce greeted him with an unctuous smile on his face. Unctuous. Bo grinned. He only knew what that meant because Mouse used it an awful lot. She was fond of big words. He’d learned a lot from her.
Now he was learning about jealousy because that unctuous asshole was looking at her breasts. He might have learned what “unctuous” meant from Mouse, but the word “asshole” had come with the territory. Bryce Hughes was a married asshole looking at a younger woman’s tits.
“Mr. O’Malley’s my brother,” Bo said between clenched teeth. “You can call me Bo.”
Bryce seemed unconcerned with his show of defiance. “Well, I wasn’t sure what your brother had done about his name given his marital status. He might have taken on his wife’s name. Or the other fellow’s.”
And that was the crux of Bo’s whole world. His brother wasn’t normal. His brother lived an alternative lifestyle. His brother was always a badass who didn’t mind throwing his power around, so Bo took the brunt of the nastiness. They were afraid of Aidan, but they let Bo know exactly what they thought.
“His name is still O’Malley.” Bo felt his eyes narrow. He’d seen Bryce as he’d walked in. He knew exactly who Bryce had been sitting with. He hadn’t missed a damn thing. “And I would watch where you decide to throw stones. Your brother-in-law is the most hated man in the county.”
“Bo.” Mouse gasped. The prim set of her mouth let him know he’d done something she considered impolite.
Well, he didn’t care. Trev McNamara was an asshole addict who should never have shown his face in this county again. Didn’t he have strippers to screw? It seemed the man even neglected his strippers. What was the world coming to?
“It wasn’t my idea to have him come back here,” Bryce said, adjusting his tie. “Trust me, when I married his sister, I thought I was gaining an asset. He was the hero of Deer Run when he signed that contract with the San Antonio Bandits. I imagined his face on my billboards telling everyone to come to Hughes-Bellows for all their real estate needs. Life doesn’t always turn out the way you think it will. How is that new house treating you, Mouse?”
He had the insane urge to get Mouse a sweater despite the hundred plus degree heat. The neckline plunged down, showing off a crazy amount of creamy, smooth skin and the rounded tops of breasts he hadn’t imagined were really there. She always wore loose clothes.
He’d thought she was on the chubby side. This dress dispelled those mistaken impressions. She was curvy and female and Bryce noticed.
What had she been thinking putting on that dress?
“I love it.” Pure pleasure could be heard in her voice. Her lips curled up in a strangely attractive smile, like she had a secret. He’d never seen Mouse smile like that. “It’s the most beautiful house ever.”
“I’m surprised it wasn’t condemned. Well, when you figure out it’s more trouble than it’s worth, you go on and give me a call.” Bryce held out his card. Mouse’s hand came out obediently and took it.
Bryce walked away without saying good-bye.
“Why didn’t you tell that fucker to shove his card up his ass?” Something nasty was brewing in his gut. He almost never cursed around Mouse. He tended to like the person he became when she was around, but tonight he felt like fighting.
He didn’t fool himself. He felt like fighting because he was in the same room with Trev McNamara.
They’d been friends once. After Aidan had left for college, Trev had practically become his big brother. Trev had been the quarterback. Bo had been a freshman in need of a mentor. They had bonded because unlike a lot of senior players, Trev hadn’t ignored the underclassmen. He’d taught Bo a lot about football. After a while it had been easy to hang out with the older student. There was a picture somewhere of himself and Trev smiling on the day Trev graduated from high school. He’d told Bo that his door was always open in Austin. That had been a bold-faced lie. He could still remember Trev telling him to go away that night when Bo had needed a friend. When he’d needed someone to save him.
“I won’t call Bryce. He would try to talk me into a bad deal.” Mouse still tucked the card into her purse. “But I certainly don’t see any reason to be impolite.”
“He’s a dickhead. Everyone knows it.” He couldn’t help but notice the fact that Mouse’s eyes kept straying away from him. “What’s got you so distracted?”
“Is that who I think it is?”
