Love Under Two Wranglers [The Lusty, Texas Collection] (Siren Ménage Everlasting)
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The Lusty, Texas Collection
Love Under Two Wranglers
Holly discovers the difference between book boyfriends and real-life lovers when Alan Wilson and Duncan Moore aim for her. Alan and Duncan recognize Holly as theirs. Now they just have to convince the virginal librarian that they can live up to any fictional heroes.
As Holly learns to trust those smokin’ hot wranglers, she dares to explore her sensual side—the woman within longing to sample all the delights she loved to read about.
Alan and Duncan already know that Lusty is home, and once they get to know Holly they understand she’s the woman that’s always been destined to be theirs. They long to give her the happy-ever-after she’s dreamed of. Then their past comes back to bite them in the ass.
Years before, they helped uncover a conspiracy, in which racehorses were killed for profit. They didn’t take the threats against them seriously then, but they’re about to discover just how deadly a woman scorned can be.
Genre: Contemporary, Ménage a Trois/Quatre, Western/Cowboys
Length: 75,046 words
LOVE UNDER TWO WRANGLERS
The Lusty, Texas Collection
Cara Covington
MENAGE EVERLASTING
Siren Publishing, Inc.
www.SirenPublishing.com
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A SIREN PUBLISHING BOOK
IMPRINT: Ménage Everlasting
LOVE UNDER TWO WRANGLERS
Copyright © 2014 by Cara Covington
E-book ISBN: 978-1-63258-394-9
First E-book Publication: September 2014
Cover design by Les Byerley
All art and logo copyright © 2014 by Siren Publishing, Inc.
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED: This literary work may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including electronic or photographic reproduction, in whole or in part, without express written permission.
All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.
PUBLISHER
Siren Publishing, Inc.
www.SirenPublishing.com
Letter to Readers
Dear Readers,
If you have purchased this copy of Love Under Two Wranglers by Cara Covington from BookStrand.com or its official distributors, thank you. Also, thank you for not sharing your copy of this book.
Regarding E-book Piracy
This book is copyrighted intellectual property. No other individual or group has resale rights, auction rights, membership rights, sharing rights, or any kind of rights to sell or to give away a copy of this book.
The author and the publisher work very hard to bring our paying readers high-quality reading entertainment.
This is Cara Covington’s livelihood. It’s fair and simple. Please respect Cara Covington’s right to earn a living from her work.
Amanda Hilton, Publisher
www.SirenPublishing.com
www.BookStrand.com
DEDICATION
To my family, for being patient with me and proud of me. But especially to my husband, David, for being my number-one fan.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Love Under Two Wranglers is the twenty-third story in the Lusty, Texas collection. When I wrote that first contemporary novel, following the two historical ones, I hoped to be writing a series, and, if I was very lucky, to have maybe five, or even six books. There is one reason, and one reason only that this series has lasted so long—and promises to go on even longer.
That reason is you, the reader.
I’m fond of saying that I have the best readers in the world, but it’s true. From that first story, when y’all sent me e-mails begging for my secondary character, Ginny Rose, to have her own happy ending, to the release of the story prior to this one, you have been steadfast in your loyalty and vocal in your praise. You humble me, and I thank you.
I’m grateful to my beta reader, Stormy, for her time and her expertise, more than I can say.
I’m especially grateful for my street team, The Lusty Ladies. Ladies—and Lad—thank you for your hard work on my behalf but mostly, from the bottom of my heart, thank you so much for your friendship.
Continued and consistent and constant kudos to the wonderful women and men of Siren Publishing. Your dedicated professionalism is greatly appreciated. And to my awesome publisher, Diana, who made everything possible eight years ago today, with that letter she wrote, offering me my dream.
Cara Covington
September 19, 2014
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Dedication
Acknowledgments
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
About the Author
LOVE UNDER TWO WRANGLERS
The Lusty, Texas Collection
CARA COVINGTON
Copyright © 2014
Chapter 1
Holly Rose Bethune kept her head down and her focus on her computer screen. She needed to complete the order for new books that she’d been working on for the last half hour. She’d heard the door to the library open, of course, and knew she was no longer alone in the building. It was too early for her student assistant to report for duty. Whoever had arrived was likely a patron. She’d be the epitome of professional welcome in just a few more moments. But she was close to being done, and wanted to finish up before this darned document she was working on timed out. Again.
In the short time that she’d been the librarian here in Lusty, Texas, Holly had come to appreciate the patience and politeness of the library’s patrons. She wasn’t at all surprised by the change in atmosphere between back home, and here, either.
Even in the heart of Georgia, f
olks in big cities tended to be a bit less polite than they once were. But small towns, especially Southern small towns, bless them all, were still bastions of good manners, easygoing attitudes, and patience.
Even a strange little town called Lusty.
When she’d been offered this position, both Miz Benedict and Miz Kendall had been very frank and forthcoming about how this town was different than most. Of course at first Holly had been shocked right down to her pretty pink, virginal toes. She considered herself an intelligent, well-informed and forward-thinking woman despite her lack of personal sexual experience. She also believed in the true meaning of freedom. Folks ought to have the right to live their lives how they wanted to live them, and love who they loved. Her only codicil to that definition of freedom was that a body didn’t have the right to cause harm to others while exercising his or her own personal freedoms.
Loving and living in a polyamorous marriage hurt no one, and was no one’s business but the folks in the relationship.
Holly was no hypocrite, and after the initial shock of learning about the alternate lifestyle being practiced in Lusty wore off, she did what any dedicated bookworm and all-around nerd would do. She researched the history of ménage marriages.
It was very refreshing to her that here in Lusty the ratio in those ménage marriages was one woman for two, or even three men. Yes, it was very refreshing, and the fact that life in Lusty came so close to her own very secret and nearly not even self-acknowledged fantasy was entirely beside the point.
No, not a fantasy, not at all. Just something I like to read about is all. There are no sexual fantasies here. Nope, not a one.
Holly reined in her wandering thoughts, and clicked “enter,” just as she sensed someone come up to her desk.
“Excuse me.”
“Good morning! I’m sorry to have kept you waiting. May I help you?” Holly spoke automatically before she even looked up. She gave thanks her mouth didn’t hang open when she finally laid eyes on the two men who stood before her. She tried to swallow but discovered a sudden dryness and hoped all her spit hadn’t already leaked out her mouth in the form of drool.
The men who stood staring at her simply stole her breath. Holly had never felt anything like the fluttery, exciting sensation that seemed to be riding a runaway roller coaster all around her tummy.
They weren’t brothers, of that she was fairly certain. One man had light blond hair that had obviously been kissed by the sun. He sported a spate of freckles that decorated his flesh, visible through his tan. They danced down his neck and disappeared beneath his shirt collar. His eyes were the light blue of an early springtime sky, and seemed focused on her as if she was the only thing in the world.
The other man had hair of rich, dark chestnut, eyes of a fathomless obsidian, and the devil’s own smile resting on his lips. He met her gaze and that smile widened slightly, sending a twinkling light to his eyes.
Holly understood in a heartbeat what was making everything inside her go all wobbly. These were the same two men she’d seen for the first time the night before at Nancy Jessop’s engagement party. At the time she’d chalked her reaction to them up to a surfeit of romance in the air. The same thing tended to happen at weddings, too—at least it did at the many weddings she’d attended, and to other people, although never to her personally.
That reaction had never happened to her before last night.
The blond man smiled a smile that slid like thick molasses across his tasty-looking lips. I wonder if those lips of his taste as dark and as sweet as molasses.
Holly blinked, the uncharacteristic thought shocking her, but exciting her, too.
“Yes, ma’am. Good morning. I’m Alan Wilson, and this is my best friend, Duncan Moore. We work for Chase and Brian Benedict out on the Benedict North Ranch. We’d like to get library cards, please.”
Holly tilted her head to one side and looked from one smiling face to the other. “Have you gentlemen ever had a library card before?” She didn’t know what prompted her to ask such a forward question. Perhaps it was because the two men looked a little out of place. She could more easily envision them with their shirts off, their strong masculine hands encased in gloves, working hard to string fence-line or bring an unruly horse to calmness as the sheen of sweat glistened on their tanned flesh…
Holly felt her cheeks heat. Thank God they can’t read my mind.
The men looked at each other and then returned their gazes to her. It was all she could do not to squirm in her chair.
“Well, now, I can’t say that we have, or that we’ve made a habit of visiting libraries in the past, ma’am,” Duncan said. “But we were inspired, very recently, to begin to explore this new, unknown horizon.”
His accent didn’t sound Southern but his voice had a surprisingly deep timbre. And the effect it had on her was really quite astonishing. The deep velvety sound seemed to enter her body and curl up in the pit of her belly and send out tiny vibrations of pleasure.
“How recently?” Holly was pretty sure she shouldn’t have asked that question.
Alan’s expression turned serious. He nodded slowly, and she knew what he was going to say before the words even left his mouth.
“Since last evening, when we walked into Lusty Appetites. One look at you, and Duncan and I knew why we’d gone to that party. We actually hadn’t planned to.”
“Me, neither. I hadn’t planned to go. It was a last-minute kind of decision.” What am I doing? Oh, my goodness, I’m flirting!
“I think that must have been Karma, then, Miss Bethune, don’t you?” Duncan treated her to the same kind of penetrating stare that Alan had. Its effect on her was identical to his friend’s. She felt as if they thought she was the only woman in the universe worth looking at.
Or at least the only woman in the library worth looking at. You are the only woman in the library, Holly Rose Bethune. Who are these men, anyway? They must be pretty desperate to be looking your way.
Holly felt her back stiffen. All her life, that inner voice—her momma had called it her inner voice of reason—had stepped in just when things began to edge away from the staid and dull, toward the new and possibly exciting. Usually, she listened to that voice and did its bidding.
For the first time, she wondered if maybe that wasn’t the voice of reason at all, but the voice of cowardice, or maybe even the voice of self-defeatism.
For the very first time in her life, Holly decided to ignore that inner voice. She looked from one gorgeous, mouthwatering cowboy to the other. She guessed she’d left Duncan’s question unanswered long enough. “I don’t know if it was Karma or not. And I have absolutely no idea what comes next.” Was that telling them too much, too soon? She’d read enough romance books to know that it was pretty important for a man—or men—taking a virgin to their bed to know she was a virgin.
Holly’s blush deepened as that last thought echoed in her head. Oh, my God, I have us frolicking among the sheets and we’ve only just said “how-do” not five minutes ago!
The men shared a very brief look. Then Alan said, “Well, I suppose the first thing we ought to do, so as not to jinx this Karma we’ve been given, is for Duncan and me to get us a couple of library cards.”
“That makes sense,” Holly said. She could do that. She’d been issuing library cards most of her adult life. It was only by sheer force of will that she didn’t roll her eyes at herself. She needed to rein in this unexpected flood of estrogen and get her head out of the gutter. She needed to assume the virtue of cool sophistication instead of continuing to think like a hormonally drunk virgin. Even if that was exactly what she was. Holly turned her attention to Duncan Moore.
Duncan nodded. “And then, ma’am, you can show us, up close and personal like, how to use them.”
She blinked, her mind scrambling, until her brain reminded her he was talking about library cards. Oh, Good Lord, I think I’m in over my head. Holly swallowed and then offered the men the best professional smile she coul
d muster.
Maybe she was in over her head. But she’d bet that both of these drool-worthy cowboys knew how to tread water really, really well. And neither of them looked the type to turn their backs on a lady in drowning distress.
* * * *
Alan had never been tongue-tied in his entire life until today. He was glad Holly had been busy, working on her computer as he and Duncan had approached her desk. Her feminine scent—something light and fresh and Holly—had invaded his senses, weakening his knees and very nearly his resolve, the closer he came to her.
He and Duncan were just a couple of hard-working cowboys. What made them think, even for a moment, that they had the right to try for Holly’s attention? That they were anywhere near good enough for her?
But then she’d looked up, and he’d seen a hint of something in her eyes that had given him hope.
Unless he was totally out to lunch, over the last few minutes he’d seen feminine interest in her eyes. She was attracted to them, and just as clearly at sea as to what to do about it as they were.
I’d really love to know what kind of naughty thought she’d had to put that pink in her cheeks and that flash of guilt in her gaze.
Miss Chloe had hinted to them that she believed Holly likely didn’t have much experience with men. Judging by the evidence at hand—the way her pretty cheeks blushed, her eyes widened and lost focus and her breathing hitched, Alan would have to say the lady was likely right.
Why, she looks as skittish as a filly facing a man holding a training rope for the very first time. Alan was aware of the supposition he’d just made. He mentally shrugged. Only time would tell if Holly Bethune was really that inexperienced, or not. Until he knew for certain, he’d listen to his instincts. Slow, gentle, yet determined. That would be his Holly-courting mantra.