by Vi Summers
The scorn in her eyes made my defenses come to life. I shouldn’t have to justify myself to anyone, no less a stranger. Yet here I was, about to do just that. An explanation was on the tip of my tongue, but it soured the longer Jolene glared. Fuck that—this piece of work wasn’t getting the best of me, so I created a lie on the spot to fuck with her.
“You’re right, you know, about the ‘deceiving’ thing.” I air-quoted. “I mean, I have been jailed for the abuse, rape, and murder of four men.”
Her mouth fell, and she spluttered as her wide eyes pinged to Brandon. Shit, I hoped I could keep a straight face; the pure shock on Brandon’s almost had me cracking.
Now that I had Jolene in the grips of morbid fascination, I decided to really have some fun.
“The hardest part wasn’t killing them after I’d kept them tied up for days on end; it was keeping them drugged enough to keep them subdued, but their dick still functioning.”
“Are you serious?” she breathed out.
“Deadly,” I enunciated.
Jolene gasped and shifted back a pace. “All at once?”
I clicked my tongue. “Oh no, of course not—two at a time, obviously.”
“How on earth?”
Locking down a laugh before it rose, I leaned toward her and smirked. “You mean catch them? That was the easiest part. Just buy them a beer.” I casually gestured to Brandon’s bottle nestled perfectly within his grasp.
Horror widened her eyes, and she spluttered for words.
It was too damn easy. In the back of my mind, I wondered how long it would take for the rumor to circulate after our conversation ended. My bet was immediately.
“Should you be drinking that, Brandon?” Jolene asked, eyeing his beer as if it was laced with sedative. I let her keep those suspicions—maybe it would keep her away from us for the rest of the night.
Brandon held her gaze as he took a long sip. He shrugged. “Tastes good to me.”
Jolene’s eyes couldn’t get rounder if she tried. Unable to hold back my sordid amusement, I let out a snigger that sounded evil even to my own ears. It had the intended effect, though; Jolene lifted her chin and sniffed, then turned on her heel without a further word.
I watched her stride across the barn and join a small huddle of women, who all leaned close in anticipation to hear all about what the jail bitch was like.
Brandon wove his arm around my waist and tugged me against the side of his body. “You sadistic little minx,” he half-growled, half-laughed against my ear. “I’m almost a little wary of you again.”
I grinned as I looked up into his twinkling eyes. “Was it believable?”
“Not for me, but Christ, Jolene couldn’t get away fast enough.” His laughter was the most unrestrained I’d ever heard, and my heart stumbled in response to the smooth, rolling tempo.
“Oh, Wyatt’s just arrived,” Brandon then declared, grabbing my hand.
The trail he blazed in Wyatt’s direction wasn’t rushed; he seemed to savor each opportunity we got to touch as much as I did.
Reluctantly, our hands separated when we reached his best mate.
“Hey guys,” Wyatt beamed. “Not drinking tonight, Louisiana?”
“Nah, apparently I’m becoming good at adhering to the rules.”
Brandon snorted as Wyatt cracked out a booming laugh. His brown eyes held a hint of recklessness and anticipation of a great night out.
“I’ll grab you a drink while you two catch up,” I offered to Wyatt.
“Oh, thank you. A bud please, darlin’,” he drawled, and I was satisfied to find that the endearment didn’t make my body hum the way it did when Brandon said it.
Brandon’s fingers subtly grazed my hand as I turned, sending my pulse skipping beats left, right, and center.
I made sure I didn’t linger at the bar. I was in a hurry to return to Brandon’s side, where I could be shielded from the curious eyes burning into my back.
I felt those stabby stares intensify as I crossed the barn with Wyatt’s beer in hand, and I scanned around to find the source; Jolene.
She scrutinized my every move, and I smiled to myself when alarm entered her expression. It occurred at the precise moment I handed Wyatt his beer with a sweeter than pie smile.
He thanked me and almost had it lifted to his lips when the bottle got snatched from his grasp with a ferocity that made him jerk.
“Jolene! What the fuck?”
I bit back laughter at his outburst and the flabbergasted look on his face.
“Don’t drink this, Wyatt. Never accept drinks from that woman,” she hissed with a savage finger stab at me.
Jolene left Wyatt spluttering as she walked away to tip out his untainted beer.
He thumbed over his shoulder. “What the hell was that about?”
Brandon lost all composure and was all but doubled over laughing uncontrollably. Wyatt’s eyes locked with mine and shone.
“Oh, there’s a juicy story here—I can sense it. What did you do, Miss Louisiana?”
I took a few breaths to tame my laughter. “I may or may not have told her I was jailed for spiking guys’ drinks and having my way with them.”
Wyatt’s jaw fell and unleashed a burst of laughter louder than before. “Hell, I’m glad Jolene’s got my back, I guess.” He rubbed the back of his neck, then got distracted by Rory’s arrival.
“Ooh girl, Jolene’s really got it in for you. You’ll never guess what she just told me.”
Brandon, Wyatt, and I fell into another bout of laughter, leaving Rory with her hip popped and frowning at the three of us.
“Okay, inside joke. Whatever,” she sassed. “I’m going to get a drink. Wyatt, you want one?”
That set us off all over again. Rory scoffed impatiently and left without a backward glance.
Wiping away the tears in my eyes that were happy instead of sad for the first time in almost a year, I exhaled a huge, content sigh.
One month ago, it had been me against the world. Now here I was, with three strangers-come-friends, standing by me while narrow-minded locals formed their own judgment without getting to know me for who I really was.
. . .
“Louisiana! You, me, dancefloor!” Wyatt yelled above the music.
We were several hours into the night, and while Brandon stayed sober, Wyatt had let his hair down. He bent a little and moved his arms as if pulling me closer with an invisible rope. The mischievous look on his face had me laughing.
I shook my head. “I’m not dancing.”
“Oh, yes you are,” he countered without losing his grin.
A shove propelled me into Wyatt’s arms, and he spun us in the same motion, making it impossible to detach myself. Rory waved at me while I glared at her over Wyatt’s shoulder.
He captured my hand, then set his other on my waist. Before I knew it, I was being spun out, then reeled back in at a pace that left me off-balance. It was fun, but damn, it was giving me whiplash.
I was breathless by the time the song ended and secretly grateful when Brandon appeared at our side.
“Christ, you’re rough, man. Hand her over,” he demanded.
Wyatt laughed—the kind of laugh that could make anyone smile.
“Not as rough as your sister. Great dance, Louisiana. I’ll be back for another soon.” He winked before Brandon playfully shoved him aside.
A new song kicked off, and for the first few beats I stood before Brandon, awkwardly waiting for him to make the first move. With a smile that warmed my belly, he opened his arms and gestured me forward.
My hands wove around his shoulders as his settled just above the curve of my waist. Despite not consuming a drop of alcohol tonight, I became heady and intoxicated in his embrace. His scent was much too delicious and made me want to inhale each breath as deeply as I could.
“Everyone’s watching us,” I whispered, feeling their unwelcome stares bounce off my back.
Brandon hummed, then dropped his mouth to my ear. “So,
let them. Or shall we give them somethin’ to really talk about?” he murmured with a smile in his voice.
Continuing to sway in his arms, I looked up and found a cheeky glint in his eyes. “What do you have in mind?”
“Well…” He pretended to ponder before making his first move. “First, I would run both hands further up your back, then down again…”
My breath stilled when he did just that, tracking down my torso, following the curve of my waist before dropping lower.
“Then, I would cup your booty in my hands and squeeze a little, then pull you closer.”
A breathless gasp fell from my lips at the light squeeze on my butt before Brandon tugged me against his body, holding me there with one hand splayed wide on my lower back.
“Then, I would smile because it feels really fucking good holding you like this. You would hum a little when I rolled my hips, just like this…”
Sure enough, I bit down on my bottom lip as a little groan caught in my throat. Brandon’s lips brushed my ear again as he changed the direction we faced. Looking over the curve of his shoulder, I saw the open-mouthed expressions and venomous tongues talking.
The touch of Brandon’s lips across my temple had my eyes fluttering closed while his aftershave somehow pulled me impossibly closer.
“Then I would run my lips over your skin, inhaling deeply because you smell too damn incredible, darlin’.”
The hand on my booty vanished, only to rise and lift my chin a little.
“You would tilt your mouth up, inviting me to kiss you like I’ve been wanting to all night.”
The tip of his nose trailed down mine and his shallow breath mingled with mine. The intensity in his hazel eyes held a silent question before he closed the last inch between our lips, sealing them over mine while swaying us to the music.
Brandon drew back for no longer than a single beat before reclaiming my mouth. I inhaled deep and melted against him, running my hands over his shoulders, then through the hair at the base of his head. The movement of his hands mirrored mine; fingers smoothing around the back of my neck and softly gripping, pulling me closer, angling me for the perfect fit. He hardened within his jeans and the ache in my core increased to a pulse.
Brandon smiled against my lips. “Just like that.”
My heavy eyelids opened the smallest amount to find him watching me. The fervor in his darkened gaze slammed into my heart and claimed everything I had to give.
His husky voice breathed more illicit words against my mouth. “And then I would tell you that you look real darn pretty while kissing me.”
Being malleable under his touch, Brandon effortlessly tilted my head in the other direction. The tips of our noses brushed with the movement before he kissed me again, gliding a hint of tongue across the tip of mine.
Opening for him, my tongue sought his as my heart fell for the man that kissed me like I was his first breath of fresh air on an early spring morning.
Brandon slowed the kiss and inhaled deep. His warm hand cupped my cheek as he pulled back, groaning reluctantly.
“And then, I’d tell you I really need to stop before I can’t.”
“I can hardly breathe,” I admitted, tight-chested and breathy. That kiss was both the longest and shortest of my life. It was everything.
He hummed. “Then I did right by you, Lou. I ain’t gonna lie. You lookin’ at me like that makes me want to kiss you again until you forget your name.”
I licked my lower lip while eyeing his, unable to find the reply. I wanted more—a whole lot more.
“Raincheck?”
Brandon tipped his head back to the barn roof and cleared his throat. “You’re making it real fucking hard for me to remain a gentleman. Think we gave them enough of a show already?”
The question brought me back to reality. The one where we were the center of attention and standing at the epicenter of thick waves of disapproval.
“I think so.”
“You want to go darlin’?”
“Only if you want to. I’m having a good time.”
While I had fears earlier, tonight had been more enjoyable than I anticipated—especially after that kiss. I shivered as the lingering tendrils of lust burst over my nerves.
Brandon ran his hands up and down my arms while asking if I was cold.
After assuring him I was fine, he looked at me from under his eyebrows. “You sure, sweetheart? Just say the word and I’ll drive us home.”
I nodded, then got a flicker of disappointment when his hold eased. I liked the way his arms felt around me, warm and gentle, safe but sexy.
“I’m needing a whole lot of cold night air after that,” he drawled. “Come outside with me?”
“You and me both. Let’s go.”
Brandon didn’t sling his arm around my shoulders like I had seen him do to other women tonight. Instead, he re-linked our fingers and held tight as we made our way into the night.
Reluctantly, I loosened my grip. “I’ll just go to the bathroom.”
“Want me to escort you?”
I shook my head and laughed. “I think I can handle it myself this time around.”
Brandon smiled, then tipped his head toward the edge of the shadows. “I’ll wait at the truck.”
Stealing a glance over my shoulder while walking away, my heart danced in time to the inside music to see that Brandon hadn’t taken his eyes off me. Even when I reached the steps to the house, he hadn’t turned away.
With a spring in my step, I hurried into the house to use the bathroom. The men had to pee behind the barn, but thankfully the women had all been given special privileges to use the indoor ablutions.
I finished up and headed through the house again when Jolene appeared in the doorway, purposely holding her ground, and blocking my exit.
“He’s too good for you. You have no right to come here and take what good men we have left. You ain’t his type and you never will be, no matter how fancy you dress up.” Her light-brown eyes flashed with vindictiveness.
I smirked and crossed my arms over my chest to shield my heart from her words. They didn’t mean shit, but that didn’t mean they didn’t hurt.
“Funny—if history is anything to go by, you’re the one that isn’t his type.”
Color flared on Jolene’s cheeks, and she roughly shoved past. “You’re nothing but a dirty slut who deserves to spend a lifetime rotting in jail for what you’ve done. It’s people like you that shouldn’t be allowed to breed,” she spat.
Searing pain sliced through my chest. Her words, so forced and hateful, hit the most tender mark on my soul. My legs gave out and had me reaching for the banister to catch my stumble. There was no way she knew about Ollie; only Brandon did, and that was because he read it on my file. Rory didn’t. Jake didn’t. Jolene didn’t.
I was barely holding back tears by the time I reached Brandon’s truck.
The suspension shifted as he stood, and there was enough moonlight for me to see the immediate concern on his face.
“Is everything alright, darlin’?”
“Fine,” I replied, my voice wavering beyond control.
I leaned against the tailgate, then involuntarily flinched when Brandon’s warm hand tentatively touched down on the curve of my hip.
“Louisiana, what’s happened?” His carefully leveled tone heightened the ache in my chest.
He shouldn’t be concerned about me. I was a liability, and he was a man who deserved someone who was good for him. Not someone tainted like me.
When his arms came around me, I shoved away as a sob escaped. Tears chose that moment to overflow, and the distress angling Brandon’s brows added to my heartbreak.
“I need to leave,” I cried without explanation.
I hurried to the passenger door but didn’t have a chance to tug it open. Brandon’s body shielded me from the view of the barn, and, even in the moonlight, I saw blatant confusion and anger in his eyes.
“What the fuck happened?” he growled.
“Nothing. Please, Brandon, I just need to go. You can either drive me or stay, but either way, I am leaving.”
Trying to push around him was pointless. His body was primed and rigid against my attempts to flee, yet gentle and non-threatening.
“Sweetheart-”
“Please, please, move.” I swiped away more tears, not caring about my makeup.
Brandon softly caught my wrists and pressed them against his chest. He held them there with one hand, then smoothed the other over my cheek.
“You don’t need to beg, darlin’. I’ll take you home, but first, you need to tell me if anything happened just now that I need to go sort out.” His jaw set angrily.
“It doesn’t involve a guy if that’s what you mean.”
The tense alignment of Brandon’s shoulders eased ever so slightly. “So, you weren’t…” He swallowed heavily. “You weren’t touched?”
“No,” I whispered as my face crumpled.
“Christ! In ya get, darlin’.”
With a tenderness that astounded me, Brandon guided me into his truck, then made sure I was belted. His touch briefly warmed my knee before he softly clicked the door into place.
In the silence of the cab, I tried to shut out the party, shut out Jolene’s hateful words, and most painfully of all, I tried to shut out my feelings for Brandon.
Chapter 19
Brandon
I glanced over at Lou and swallowed back the bile burning its way up from my stomach. I was beyond pissed that someone had upset her, and now she wasn’t sayin’ a damn thing.
The entire drive back to the ranch was filled with sniffles and jerky movements from the passenger side as she cried otherwise silent tears.
I wanted to pull over and reach for her, but the fresh memory of her ducking to avoid my touch stopped me from doing so. I should have followed her into the house, should have made sure she was safe in there. Somewhere within the short five-minute window of her disappearing inside and arriving at my truck, Louisiana’s sky-high mood had been ripped out from under her.
Parking in the garage set off to the side of my house, silence shrouded us after I turned off the ignition. The only audible sound was the click of my truck’s engine cooling down.
