Keeping What's His: Tate (Porter Brothers Trilogy Book 1)

by Jamie Begley

  “Dustin dries it out. Greer and I help out, but Dustin has the touch. He can tell the second it’s done. The other growers dry it out too much so it has no taste and burns quicker. They sell more that way. We don’t. Ours is high-quality and will give you a buzz that brings you back for more. That’s why everyone wants to bring us down.”

  Sutton reached for the last piece of toast, smearing jelly on top. “I can’t believe you’re actually proud of your skills.”

  “Why not? Pot is legal in several states now. Hell, they’re even coming up with fancy flavors,” Tate, as always, defended his family business.

  “For medicinal purposes,” Sutton countered.

  Greer snorted. “If they smoke ours, they’ll damn sure feel better. I know I do.”

  “With all three of you smoking it, I’m surprised you have anything left to sell.”

  “We don’t smoke it.”

  Sutton stared at Tate doubtfully.

  “We don’t. That wouldn’t be good business. Greer smokes one occasionally to test the product, but other than that, we don’t touch it.”

  “Why not?”

  “It wouldn’t be smart to smoke our profit away. Besides, imagine living in a candy store where you could have it any time you want. After a while, you get pretty sick of it.”

  “I ain’t sick of it, just saving up for something big.” Greer handed Tate the shotgun he had brought with him.

  “What?” Sutton asked.

  “I want a new truck, and it’s hard to get credit in our line of work.”

  “You’ll have enough after this season,” Tate promised.

  “That’s what you said last year, until Logan broke his arm when he fell off the swing. The medical bills took a chunk of our cash.”

  “Family comes first.”

  “Yes, it does. I ain’t complaining, just explaining.” Greer slapped his brother on the back. “Take care.”

  “I will,” Tate said, clutching his ribs. “Go by and see Diamond, tell her what happened. I’m going to need her help if I’m going to get out of this mess.”

  “I’ll go talk to her now. She’s probably already waiting for me to stop by.”

  Sutton remained at the table as the two brothers went back into her bedroom to let Greer slip out her window. How in the hell had she ended up letting a man suspected of murder hide out in her house? Her best course of action would be to call the state police and turn him over.

  Her hand inched toward the cell phone lying on the table. Before she could grab it, though, Tate’s hand reached from behind her, picking it up.

  “You’re not thinking of turning me in, are you?”

  “You’re not going to solve anything by hiding. Turn yourself in. If the sheriff is friends with Cash, he’ll help you find out who killed Lyle.”

  “Knox is a friend of Cash’s, not mine. I’m not sitting in a jail cell, hoping someone will believe me while the real killer gets away.”

  “Suit yourself. You were always too stubborn to listen to any advice I gave you. I don’t know why I expected it to be any different now.” She stood, intending to go get dressed.

  “You don’t have to be so pissy about it.”

  “I’m an accessory if I don’t turn you in to the police.”

  “You sure you’re not a Fed?”

  “I don’t know which Porter brother makes me want to pull my hair out more—you or Greer.”

  “You don’t have to be so sensitive. It’s a legitimate question.”

  “Not for a normal person,” Sutton snapped back.

  Stepping around him, she stomped to her bedroom to get changed. She had forgotten how aggravating the brothers could be when they were together. Alone, they were a pain in the ass. More than one made you want to shoot them.

  She showered then put on her denim shorts and a plaid shirt that belonged to her pap. She had cut off the sleeves and tied the ends into a knot under her breasts. She had devised the top when she realized she hadn’t packed enough summer clothes.

  She left her hair damp. It would dry in the muggy heat. She needed to get an air conditioner installed if she had any hope of selling the old house. Although, it usually stayed cool during the morning or evening, the large trees giving the majority of the house a cooling shade.

  She went into the living room, opening the windows to let in the slight breeze blowing outside.

  Tate had settled on the couch and was flipping through the channels on the television. “This house is hotter than Hell.”

  Sutton went to the refrigerator, taking out a couple of beers. Handing him one, she opened hers.

  “Little early to be drinking, isn’t it?” His sarcastic words didn’t keep him from opening his own bottle and taking a drink.

  “Not when there isn’t an air conditioner.” Sutton rolled the ice-cold bottle against her forehead then her throat, enjoying the sensation against her skin.

  Sutton noticed Tate had quit changing the channels. “Can’t find anything you want to watch?”

  “I wouldn’t say that.”

  The sensual look he wore startled her with the effect it had on her. Her breasts tightened, her nipples hardening inside the thin bra she had put on. She was glad the shirt was loose enough on her that Tate wouldn’t notice. She felt herself dampen against the seam of her shorts, and that shook her the most.

  She had believed her sexual drive was dead. Other than appreciating the way men looked, she hadn’t felt driven to have sex in so long she didn’t actually remember her last time. She knew it was with her husband, but other than that, she came up blank.

  Sutton had begun to believe her husband was right when he had been unable to stir her passion and said something was wrong with her. However, the stirring between her thighs now was proving him wrong. Evidently, all it took was a look from Tate, and her body could become primed.

  Only two things held her back from exploring the newness of her body’s reaction: Tate’s hatred and her brain telling her it would be a catastrophe. If she had sex with him and it was as lackluster as it had been with Scott, then her hard won confidence would be left in shreds.

  Scott had blamed her for the problems in their relationship. If she slept with someone else and it was as passionless as it had been with her husband, then she would know all the insults and criticisms he had thrown at her were her fault.

  “You want to watch anything?” The suggestive tone he was using had her backing away.

  “No, thanks. I need to make some calls and cancel some appointments, unless you want several workmen showing up to begin work on the kitchen.”

  “You sure?”

  Her lips tightened. “What’s the matter, Tate? Are you willing to put aside the hard feelings you have against me to get your dick sucked?”

  His eyelids lowered to half-mast. “Why? Is sucking my dick on your mind? You sucking my dick wasn’t a thought in my head.”

  “Oh…” Sutton turned bright red, angry her own words had betrayed the direction of her thoughts. “Can I have the phone, please?”

  He placed the phone in her hand with a warning glint before he resumed channel-searching.

  She was going to sit at the table when his next words stopped her cold.

  “I wasn’t thinking of you sucking my dick. I was too busy thinking about fucking you on the couch.”

  Sutton changed direction, escaping outside.

  Her breathing was erratic at his admission. The son of a bitch had sent her running like a scared virgin. She was tempted to call the police and watch in enjoyment when they put him in handcuffs and took his ass to jail. Instead, she made the necessary calls to delay the workers indefinitely, using the excuse that she wanted a realtor to look at it before she made any improvements. Then she called Drake, telling him she was still debating about selling the property, but she would call him back when she made a decision.

  The hand with the phone dropped to her side when she was done. She had a terrible feeling she was going to be sorry she ha
dn’t handed Tate over to the police. She didn’t care what the townspeople or her family would say if it came out she had been harboring a fugitive. She was more concerned that old feelings for him would be dredged up, even if she wasn’t as innocent and easily susceptible as she had been.

  She scolded herself while the voice in the back of her mind was telling her to run. Tate was even more attractive as a man, and that sexual awareness tugged at her body like a moth to a flame. If she didn’t find a way to get him out of her house, she would be burned or consumed by the very flames that had attracted her.

  Sutton placed her hand on the porch rail, the sun glinting off her wedding band. The reminder of her marriage stiffened her failing resolve.

  No man, especially not Tate, was going to get close to her again, not even to scratch an itch she hadn’t known could exist. She would give him a few days, and if his problems weren’t resolved by then, she would call the police and have him escorted from her life once and for all.

  Chapter 12

  “Where are you going?” Tate asked grumpily, setting down his beer on the end table.

  Sutton paused before picking up her purse and car keys. “I’m having drinks with Cheryl. I told you this afternoon at lunch.”

  “What about me?”

  “You’ll be fine. I’m only going to be gone for a few hours.”

  “Take your phone in case I need to get in touch with you.”

  She raised the cell phone in her hand, waving it in the air before placing it in her purse. “You do that, and I’ll make sure I come running,” she said with an eye roll.

  Tate narrowed his eyes at her. “Make sure you do.”

  Sutton blew out an exasperated breath. “I need to leave before I bash that beer bottle over your arrogant head.”

  “Why don’t you give it a try and see what happens?”

  She tensed, noting the escalating sexual tension. The two of them being trapped in close confines was wearing heavily on both of their nerves.

  “I’ll pass. I don’t believe in attacking someone weaker than me.” Sutton fled, sensing, like a bear with a sore tooth, she had prodded Tate one too many times.

  She was parking her car in the parking lot of King’s when her breathing finally slowed. Angering a Porter never turned out well. She needed to remind herself that she needed to keep a distance between them. She wasn’t about to give Tate the opportunity to get physically or emotionally close to her again.

  Cheryl was waiting for her at a small table. Sutton was amazed at the level of sophistication of the restaurant and bar: sleek, black, modern furniture and tables that made you want to relax and spend time there, which Sutton was sure was the effect the owners wanted.

  “What do you want to drink?”

  “I’ll take a Malibu.”

  “That sounds good. I’ll take one, too,” Cheryl told the passing cocktail waitress.

  “You’re early,” Sutton said, sitting down across from her.

  “The store wasn’t busy, so Jared let me leave early.”

  Sutton leaned back as the waitress set their drinks down in front of them. “It isn’t difficult working with your ex-husband?”

  “At first it was, but it was harder being broke all the time.”

  Sutton took a sip of her drink, enjoying the atmosphere of the bar. “I like this place.”

  “I do, too. Jared brought me here the other night for dinner.”

  Sutton couldn’t resist giving her friend a warning. “Be careful. I know you probably still care for him. It’s easy to let yourself fall back into a relationship with an ex.”

  Cheryl gave a bitter laugh. “Maybe I was a naïve idiot at one time, but not anymore. I know what else is out there now. I won’t get taken in by Jared twice.”

  “I’m sorry. I know how much you loved him.”

  Cheryl lowered her voice, leaning across the tale so they couldn’t be overheard. “The thing is I’ve discovered a different side to myself. In bed, Jared was all about what he wanted. He didn’t care if I enjoyed it or not. I actually think he enjoyed it more if I didn’t.”

  “I can see that.” Sutton nodded. “He was very controlling of you, even in high school.”

  “Those days are over. I’ve found out that sex is better than potato chips. The more you have, the more you want.”

  Sutton tried not to blush at her frank talk. She had never been the type to want to discuss intimate details with her friends.

  “If they’re single, I’ve fucked them.”

  Sutton couldn’t bite back the question on her lips. “Any of the Porter brothers?”

  Cheryl lost her eagerness to share. Leaning back, she picked up her drink, and Sutton had the answer she didn’t want.

  “Which one, or more than one of them?”

  “Sutton …”

  She shrugged. “It’s not a big deal. Tate and I were over before I graduated.”

  “The brothers don’t fuck the same woman. I would go to Mick’s after The Last Riders were finished with me, and the Porters showed me a good time, bought me drinks, and danced with me. We had a lot of fun.”

  Sutton had heard enough. She started to change the subject, but Cheryl had lost her reticence and gave more information than she wanted.

  “Greer is too intense for me, and Dustin was too young …” Her voice trailed off. “I wouldn’t have touched Tate if I thought you still cared about him. It was only a couple of times. He made it plain it was just sex, he wasn’t going to get serious with me.”

  “That was more than he did for me.” Sutton lifted her glass, draining it, then motioned for the waitress to bring her another.

  “You and Tate?”

  “No, we never had sex, only fooled around a little bit when we were dating.”

  Cheryl blew out a relieved breath. “That’s good. I would hate to think it would cause a problem between you and him.”

  “Why would it cause a problem? I don’t care whom he’s slept with in town.”

  “He doesn’t do much sleeping,” she wisecracked, and Sutton wanted to throw her drink in the woman’s face. “I wonder which woman he’s holed up with while he’s hiding out from the cops. I wouldn’t mind if he wanted to hide at my place. I wonder if he’s still answering his phone.”

  Sutton paid the waitress for the second round of drinks. Before she left, she ordered a screwdriver.

  “I haven’t finished my first drink.”

  Sutton lifted her glass toward her, giving an imaginary toast. “Then you need to catch up.”

  Cheryl took a long drink. “I never turn down a free drink.”

  “I bet you don’t turn many things down.” Sutton bit her lip, angry at herself. Why should she be angry at her for having sex with Tate?

  “Turned down Jared,” Cheryl snickered. “Does it make me a bad person that I get a kick out of him knowing I’m fucking anything with a dick, and he can’t do a damn thing about it?”

  “Cheryl, you shouldn’t be doing it if the only reason you are is to make Jared angry.”

  “Did I tell you that Jared had a vasectomy, and he didn’t tell me? He didn’t want me or his mistresses to get pregnant. I tried for five years to get pregnant and was about to take fertility treatments, and he didn’t once open his fucking mouth.”

  Sutton could see the anger and hurt Cheryl was trying to get out of her system. If sleeping with the men Jared had to come in contact with helped, then Sutton wasn’t about to throw any stones.

  “Then, no, it doesn’t make you a bad person.” There was no pain worse than being cheated on by the one you love.

  “I’m thinking of leaving Treepoint when I get enough money saved up.”

  In Treepoint, it didn’t matter how many women men slept with, but a woman with multiple sexual partners was labeled with only one title—slut.

  “It might help take away some of the resentment you’re feeling toward Jared.”

  “You don’t by any chance need a roommate, do you?”

 
; “I’m afraid I already have a roommate, and I don’t think you and Stella would hit it off. I have a couple of friends who are looking for another roommate, though. If you’re interested, I could give you their numbers.”

  “I would appreciate it. If I find a roommate, then I could move sooner.”

  Sutton took out her cell phone, sending her the two phone numbers. “I think you would have a lot in common with Kazzie and Soria.”

  “I’ll call them tomorrow. Thanks, Sutton.”

  “Don’t thank me until you talk to them. Are you sure you want to do this? All your family is here.”

  “They haven’t had anything to do with me since The Last Riders, so I’m really not too concerned with what they have to say.”

  Sutton shook her head. “It’s not going to be as easy to leave as you think. The mountains are hard to leave. They stay in your blood.”

  “If you missed it so badly, why did you stay away so long?”

  “I didn’t have anything to come back for.”

  * * *

  Sutton let herself into the dark house, locking the door behind her. She crossed the floor, bumping into the couch. Unable to help herself, she started giggling.

  “I see you had a good time.” Tate’s voice came from the chair beside the couch.

  “I did.” She grabbed on to the back of the couch to steady herself.

  “You drove yourself home in this condition?”

  “No, one of Cheryl’s friends gave us a ride.”

  “Cheryl doesn’t have any friends. Who was it?”

  “She does, too. I’m one, and some guy named Rider.”

  “How did Rider drive you and Cheryl home? He rides a bike, and both you and Cheryl wouldn’t fit on it at the same time.”

  “Train gave her a ride.”

  “I bet that won’t be the only ride he gives her tonight.” Tate’s sarcastic tone raised her simmering anger.

  “Jealous it’s not you?” she said snidely. “Give her a call. She would be more than willing to give you a place to hide out.”

  “You told her I was here?” She saw his shadow rise from the chair angrily.

  “No. She was just talking about you and mentioned she wouldn’t mind you hanging out at her place.”