Covington, Cara - Love Under Two Cowboys [The Lusty, Texas Collection] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting)

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Covington, Cara - Love Under Two Cowboys [The Lusty, Texas Collection] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) Page 5

by Cara Covington


  “We want to take you there.” Chase kissed the top of her head. He found his own spot to massage—right at the base of her neck, and across her shoulders. He felt her go boneless on him and grinned.

  “Okay. I’d probably be better off touring the place with the two of you. I have a feeling you’re more than a little familiar with the contents of that building.”

  “We are.” Brian raised one of her feet and kissed it. Carrie seemed shocked for a moment but then she smiled. “It tells the story of Lusty, its founding and the years in between then and now. Chase and I are very proud of our heritage.”

  She relaxed on him for another few minutes, and Chase really enjoyed the closeness the three of them developed. Finally she sighed. “I have to work tomorrow, so I can’t stay a whole lot later. If you want me to tour your home and get some ideas, we should get started, shouldn’t we?”

  Chase gave her a hug, and then helped her sit up. “We should, but that was nice. I liked sitting there with you on us.”

  Carrie’s expression turned soft. “I did, too. It’s been a long time since someone just held me.”

  “Then let’s make that a tradition with us,” Brian said. “We’ll see that you get hugs, and held, every day. Foot rubs, too, if you need them.”

  “Sounds good to me.”

  Chase shot his brother a quick glance as he lifted Carrie to her feet and stood himself. It was enough to let him know Brian had caught that emotion that came and went like lightning across their woman’s face. It had been a look of hope tempered by caution.

  Someone had let her down, and badly. Right then and there he made himself a solemn promise. He would move heaven and hell not to disappoint her.

  “If this furniture dates back to the 1930s, then some of it is probably antiques. You could probably sell it to collectors.”

  “For now, it’ll just go to the warehouse,” Chase said. “We have a huge one just outside of the southern end of town, and it is full of stuff. We can go through the contents accumulated and pick out whatever furniture you think would fit—whatever you like.”

  “If you don’t see what you’d like there, we can just take a run into one of the cities and buy new,” Brian said.

  “If I don’t see what I like? You’re the cowboys who’ve got to live here. It should be what you like.”

  She obviously didn’t understand exactly how long term he and Brian were thinking. He and his twin shared a look. Brian came to the rescue which was a good thing, because Chase’s brain refused to work.

  “We’re really just a couple of cowpokes at heart, darlin’. What do we know from styles and such? We’re both perfectly content to let you pick what you like. We like you so we figure we’ll be fine with whatever you choose.”

  “Wait a minute. Didn’t the two of you work with your brothers in New York City for a few years? The same New York City that is known as the fashion capital of the nation?”

  Chase gave Carrie the saddest look he could muster. “We did, sugar, we surely did. It was horrible.” And he shuddered, just for good measure.

  Carrie laughed, and when he took hold of her right hand, she knit her fingers through his. Brian ran his hand down her back and then took her left hand.

  “Are you sure you’re strong enough for this?” Chase brought her hand up to his mouth and kissed it. “It’s a big house, with ugly-ass furniture in every room except our home office.”

  “I’m tougher than I look.” Then she cocked her head to one side. “So you managed to fix up your home office?”

  “There wasn’t anything to that. A couple of desks, a couple of chairs, and a couple of computers. That part was easy enough.”

  Carrie looked around the parlor once more. “Okay, this has all got to go. Do you have any particular style preferences? Colors?”

  “We just want furniture big enough we don’t have to worry about breaking it when we sit on it,” Brian said.

  “And damn near any color would suit us as long as there is no red or gold involved.”

  “You guys are way too easy,” Carrie teased. “Okay, let’s get this party started.”

  Chase grinned at his brother. They’d managed to take the first step with their woman, and a significant step it was, too. She’d be here on a regular basis over the next while, and in that time they could court her. And since they told her to fix the place up to her own liking, she’d be sure to be comfortable here, once they asked her to move in with them.

  Chapter 4

  “Well, it’s almost that time. Are you ready for the outside world, son?”

  George Lockwood kept a tight rein on his emotions, and his polite face in place. He gave the pastor a gentle smile and a nod—what he believed would be the response of a humble man. He felt pleased when the pastor clasped his shoulder in turn.

  Sucker.

  Because he thought a few words were warranted and because he really was anxious to get the hell out of prison, he said, “I am, Pastor Jack. I’m looking forward to settling down right here in Huntsville and starting my life all over again. I’ll find myself a good job, I promise you. I’ve been working hard, and I got my certificate from that computer course I took. I do appreciate you helping me out the way you have. I especially appreciate that you’re here for me today. That’s right kind of you.”

  “I’m pleased to be here for you. You’re a good man, George. A changed man, I can tell. I’ve watched you these last ten years, and I know this to be true. The course upgrades you took and the time you’ve spent in Bible study are going to be a big help in securing employment for you. Learning how to use computers, how to write programs—that was a smart move on your part, accepting my counseling. You’re living proof that it’s just like I’ve always said. Once you confessed your sins, and resolved to become a better man, everything began to go your way.” Pastor Jack smiled at him, as if sharing a great secret.

  George nodded, actually agreeing with the pompous asshole. He didn’t mind that the pastor more or less took credit for having led him to God and affecting his rehabilitation. Let him. Actually the interfering bastard’s poking his nose in had suited George. It had suited him personally and served his purposes to have the pastor believe himself the instrument of divine intervention.

  Appearing to be a member of the man’s pious flock had scored him lots of privileges in this hellhole, including learning all about the Internet. The deluded pastor really had it only partly right, though.

  Once George had decided on his course of action, once he came up with a detailed plan, and once he’d focused himself completely on carrying out that plan, only then had everything begun to go his way.

  Discipline, total, complete, and absolute, was the key to success. He’d always believed it to be so. Now, on this morning—the morning of his liberation—he believed it even more.

  Looking back, he could absolutely admit that things had only gone wrong for him when he’d lost his focus. When he’d let his anger at his woman’s betrayal consume him, he’d lashed out in heated temper and in so doing had made a serious mistake.

  Now he said, with total honesty, “I’ve made grave mistakes, Pastor Jack. Horrible mistakes that I promise you, I will never, ever make again.”

  “I believe you, George. I’m so proud of you, and so grateful to God that he’s seen fit to work in you, through me. As soon as you’re processed, I’ll drive you over to Second Chance House. They’re expecting you. The room isn’t much—just a bed and a dresser. But it’s private and you can consider it your home for now. You’ll be pleased to know your mother sent me some clothes for you. My wife laundered them, and I’ve already delivered them there.”

  His mother could go to flaming hell. If it hadn’t been for her, he would have been able to keep closer tabs on his woman. It was all her fault the bitch ran away.

  George closed off the anger, and focused on the goal. He must keep to his goal, no matter what. That was the only way he’d succeed. He said, “I need to go to an electronics stor
e. I have enough money saved up from working here to get myself a computer—I need to be able to keep up with the latest technologies and developments. It’ll also help me to get a job.” What he really needed to do was to be able to begin to hack into other computer systems and find out where his woman was. There was no such thing as losing yourself or hiding successfully in this modern, technology-obsessed age.

  His goal was clear. First he’d find her. Then he would go after her. Then, he would reclaim her as his own.

  “Of course. I’ll take you over to the mall. I’m sure you’ll be able to find everything you need there.”

  George had to fight his way back to the conversation. He shot a startled look at the pastor, wondering if the man had noticed his loss of focus. But that man was staring off in the distance, a pinched look on his face.

  “Neither your lawyer nor myself could talk the authorities out of placing the ankle monitor on you.” He shook his head. “Bad enough the judge gave you ten years on a first offense. I read the transcript of your trial and I’m not as convinced that young lady didn’t entice you in the first place.” Pastor Jack shook his head. “Teenagers these days are creatures of the flesh. According to her own testimony, she wasn’t even a virgin. In my opinion, using a monitor seems a bit extreme to me.”

  No, she hadn’t been pure. My Carolyn had been pure. She’d been my pure and perfect mate, my gift from God. George wondered if the pastor didn’t have some latent aggression himself he needed to deal with. Or maybe, his appearance of siding with him was a trick. George said nothing, and waited.

  “I want you to know, George, that I don’t think you need that device. I have complete faith that you have indeed been completely rehabilitated.”

  Ah, the little prick is just trying to escape responsibility for being a part of the establishment. As if I give a fuck. “I understand, Pastor. I really don’t mind. I did a bad thing. I know that in time, the ankle monitor will be removed.”

  Pastor Jack Kenny gave him another shoulder clap, and then they both turned as the door opened and two guards, followed by a technician, entered the room.

  George had every faith that given a bit of time he would be able to remove this stupid ankle monitor himself. He’d figure it out, and then wear it until the time was right to rid himself of it.

  It suited George to let everyone believe he’d been cowed. He’d spent the last ten years behind bars, because he’d been pushed to his limit by that faithless Jezebel. Carolyn was his, given to him by God. No one had a right to take her away from him, or to deny his dominion over her—not even the woman herself.

  When she’d run away, he’d lost control of his temper, and in a moment’s rage, imagined that whore, the one who lived next door, was his Carolyn. He’d taken her the way a master takes a slave, the way a man takes his woman, his property.

  He hadn’t killed the whore. He’d only used her. He still really didn’t understand why he’d had to stay in prison for so long a time just for that. Oh, he played the role of penitent to the hilt, but of course he hadn’t meant it. As far as he was concerned, what he’d done was nothing worthy of punishment.

  He’d learned some valuable lessons in the process, however, and he couldn’t wait to put what he’d learned into practice.

  He’d be away from this prison, finally, in just a few more minutes. He would continue with his charade and then, when the door to the pathetic room he’d been assigned was closed, he would begin his search.

  Once he found her, once he understood where she was and what she was doing, he would act.

  He would punish Carolyn for leaving him, punish her until she was pure again. And then he would teach her the proper way to honor her husband.

  * * * *

  Carrie stretched, her body moving in concert with the woman on her television screen, as she tried to assume the yoga positions being taught by that way-too-perfect-looking instructor.

  Reminding herself that exercise was important for the ongoing health of body, mind, and soul wasn’t doing it for her this time. Hell, the perky blonde bimbo who looked double-jointed in every joint sure wasn’t proving very inspirational for her at the moment, either.

  Carrie reached over and, with disgust, stopped the DVD and turned off the television. Maybe she’d take up jogging. She already knew there were some folks in town who liked to get in a run a few times a week.

  One of them, Jillian Gillespie, who was engaged to the younger Drs. Jessop, worked right over at the clinic, and came into the restaurant a couple times a week.

  Nodding her head, she decided she’d talk to Jillian at the very next opportunity. She was definitely sick of televised yoga and Pilates lessons.

  She should shower and dress, and then head out to the ranch. It was Monday, one of her two days off, and the first shipment of furniture was due to arrive that day.

  They’d already emptied the parlor and the dining room, and between her and the cowboys had gotten the rooms repainted. Well, they had eventually.

  Carrie giggled just thinking about all the different ways those men had gone out of their way to touch her and tease her, to kiss her and hold her.

  Hold me. Yeah, they certainly had made sure that happened every time they’d been together. She didn’t waste too much time thinking about the very real fact that she had seen Chase and Brian just about every day for the last two weeks. Instead, she put her thoughts back on the redecorating of their ranch house.

  The walls in the parlor were now a nice eggshell color. Carrie had worked hard to scrape and sand the door and window frames. The wood she’d found underneath all the layers of paint had turned out to be a beautiful mahogany. These she’d simply scraped free of paint and coated with varnish.

  The result made the room look much, well, roomier than it had before. The men certainly seemed pleased with the results.

  Over the past two weeks Carrie had spent a lot of her spare time at the ranch. This was the first time in her life she’d been outside of an urban setting. At first, it had felt weird. She could honestly say that, while during her first couple of months living in Lusty she’d been a little creeped out about how quiet the town was, especially at night, she’d discovered that was nothing compared to the time she spent out on the ranch.

  Carrie used the towel she’d set aside for herself to blot the bit of sweat created by her exercise attempt. She figured the perspiration had as much to do with the rising outdoor temperatures and the fact that she had her AC turned off as it did any exertion on her part.

  She took one step toward the bathroom when her cell phone chirped out Kelly Clarkson’s “Breakaway.” An old song, but it was her sister Chloe’s favorite.

  “Hey, big sister! How is life in that Divine town of yours?”

  “Likely not as hot as life in that Lusty town of yours, little sister.”

  Carrie grinned. They’d begun poking each other about their respective town names right after Carrie had taken up residence in Lusty.

  “So how’s everything going with you?” Carrie had been wondering if her sister would be having a groundbreaking announcement soon. She’d been in Divine for some time, and had been living with a “perfectly nice man.” His name was Beck O’Malley, and he was a beekeeper.

  Personally, Carrie didn’t want to go anywhere near where the bees were, but she did want her sister to be happy. Chloe had met Beck in Dallas and had moved to Divine with him. The fact that her sister kept telling her that Beck was a “perfectly nice man” made her think that maybe he really wasn’t the man for her.

  Chloe sighed, and Carrie had the first inkling that all was not well in her sister’s world. “Well, Beck asked me to marry him.”

  Because she knew her sister, and already figured she knew the answer, Carrie didn’t yell or scream or shout out congratulations. Instead she said, “And?”

  Chloe sighed. “Damn it, Carrie. I turned him down. I turned him down and I broke his heart. I hate myself right now. Of course, we’re not together anymore.
I moved out of his place…damn it, what a mess.”

  Carrie tried to exhale in relief without it sounding that way. “Don’t hate yourself, honey. I’m sure you had a good reason.”

  “He’s such a nice guy. He really is. And I like him, a lot. But…”

  “But you don’t love him.” Carrie had never given the matter any thought, at least not before moving here. But really, if a person didn’t love someone, why marry them?

  “Carrie? Am I asking too much? I remember how it was with mom and dad, how their eyes would just light up when they saw each other. Every day when they’d get home from work and they’d see each other, they just glowed. Am I asking too much to want that for myself, too?”

  Carrie didn’t really remember their parents as well as Chloe did. But she’d been in this town long enough, had been surrounded by so many people who lit up when their loved ones entered the room. She felt relieved to be able, finally, to say something in support of her sister.

  “No, Chloe, you’re not asking too much at all.”

  “Beck is such a fabulous guy. He’s the best guy I’ve ever met, you know? And I wanted so badly for him to be the one. Why couldn’t he be the one?”

  Before coming to this town, Carrie would have told her sister that she had no idea. But she’d watched, and listened to the stories, and she’d learned.

  “You can’t control love, Chloe. You can’t create those feelings—the zing, the chemistry. They happen all on their own, or they don’t happen.” She thought of Ginny Kendall, and the words she’d said at her Commitment Ceremony. “Do you know what I think? I think that love happens in its own time, and in its own way, for each of us.”

  “I wonder when it’s going to happen for me? Maybe I have to stop looking for it. Maybe, maybe I just have to forget about it, you know?”

  “Maybe you do. Maybe you just need to let love find you.”

  “Maybe I do. That town of yours…it wouldn’t happen to have a day spa, would it?”

  “No, I’m sorry, it doesn’t. Why did you ask? Are some of your coworkers there giving you a hard time about Beck?”

 

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