Loving a Bad Boy (Bad Boys Western Romance Book 4)

by Susan Arden

  “So, has Vince proposed yet?” Sommer asked in jest, expecting to hear a funny, flippant retort.

  Instead, Ivy just stared back at her. Her lips parted and her mouth hung wide open. “How’d you know?”

  Sommer snapped all of her attention to her friend’s blushing face. “Are you for real?”

  “He asked me. Before we got here. Just asked if I’d marry him. I hardly know him…haven’t for more than a whole day, but I said yes! How around the bend crazy is that? Don’t say it. Completely. I don’t care. I love him.”

  “Helloooo. Slow down.” Sommer grabbed Ivy by the arm and shook her. “Now, take a deep breath.”

  “Crud, I don’t know what I’m saying. I’m rambling.”

  “Breathe!” Sommer smiled and waited.

  “’Kay.” Ivy drew in a sip and laughed. “Tell me to shut up. Please, don’t be shy.

  “I won’t. It’s not that I can’t believe it ’cause I totally can. There’s something about you two. I totally got it this morning.”

  Ivy gazed at her with tears in her eyes. “Well, you did say it before I could get it out so unless you can foresee the future… Am I crazy?”

  “Best kinda crazy. Get over here!” Sommer circled her arms around her friend and fiercely hugged her. “Best, best, best wishes!”

  “Thanks. My mom thinks I’m on drugs, or a lunatic, or both.”

  “Well damn, aren’t we all?” Sommer shook her head, refusing to bring up what happened with her mom for fear of dampening Ivy’s spirits. Her friend knew the score about her mom. “So what happens now?”

  “Vin wants me to come out with him to LA and tour with the band. Like I’m talking all over the U.S., and then we’re going to Germany and Brussels.”

  It suddenly dawned on Sommer that Ivy’s plan meant she would be gone the next day. “What! You’re leaving tomorrow?” Here she had a to-do list that consisted of washing dirty laundry and hitting the ink supply house, and her friend was off to California, on her way to the rest of the world. “My head isn’t big enough to hold that thought.”

  “I can’t begin to put the pieces together. Vin said, ‘Pack a bag and the rest is just details.’”

  Details. Isn’t that what Rory kept saying? “Must be a guy thing.”

  “They’d don’t think in terms of hot irons and nail polish or jobs,” Ivy agreed. “Just details, and he’s right. My job… being a realtor, well I can do that in Hollywood just as easy as here.”

  Sommer absorbed Ivy’s glee like a contact high. “Absolutely. You’ll rock LA.”

  Ivy picked at a piece of grass and sighed, “I’m not about to say goodbye to a man who makes me feel so freaking alive, like I almost can’t breathe.”

  “I’m happy for you, girl. Yeah. Everything else is just teeny-weeny minutiae.”

  “Grabbing the ring of joy with both hands and I’m not letting go.” Ivy held up her hand for Sommer to high-five her back.

  The football landed, skidding across the grass between her and Ivy. Rory let go an angry sounding cuss at the dude who missed the pass. To Mike, who threw it, he snarled, “What the hell are you doing?”

  “Nuttin’. Tossing the ball.” Mike laughed. “No one got hurt. That’s the risk of sitting on the sidelines.”

  “That’s a lame excuse,” Rory retorted with a warning note in his voice. “I’m done.”

  “Looks like your boyfriend is about to detonate,” Ivy whispered. “Man, I don’t want to see him go off. You’d better never get hurt when he’s around.”

  “He’s protective,” she admitted, not that it bothered her. It was a fact and for so long, it was like saying the sky was blue. “Did you hear anything?”

  “Lonny. The parking lot? Or Jen, earlier today?”

  “Son of a beach ball!” Sommer rolled her eyes.

  “I won’t miss living in a small town…least not right away. You okay?”

  “Yep. Can you post that somewhere? Just joking,” she added, not wanting Ivy to take her seriously.

  Rory had his arms around Sommer, and they were dancing amidst the crowd, right in front of the stage as he bent and kissed her cheek. She leaned closer to him, pressing her ear to his chest, preferring to listen to his heartbeat rather than the music.

  The second band was up, and it was no wonder that the Diamond had an overzealous crowd today. Word had gotten out that Diehard, Haden’s band, was scheduled to perform tonight, marking this as no ordinary Labor Day shindig.

  Someone thumped Rory on the back and he turned, tightening his grip on her until he spotted his brother. Rory flashed Stephen a grin and then she felt his arms relax…somewhat. “Well, seeing you both here is the long shot of the night. Can’t believe you both cut out on the family.” Rory’s chest began to rumble with a deep laugh.

  “Sommer.” Stephen nodded over to her as he danced with Jillian. He cocked his head toward the stage. “Had to come over and hear Haden’s band.”

  “Hey, Stephen. Jill, give me a hug.” Sommer let go of him to embrace his sister-in-law.

  Jill asked, “How are the bands?”

  “Good, but they aren’t Diehard,” Sommer replied.

  All of a sudden Jillian cast a raised eyebrow toward Stephen. “Oh, don’t you dare start with the tickling. Not this early.”

  “Never too early,” Stephen snorted, lowering his head, and whispered something in Jill’s ear. “And that’s a promise,” he finished and swung her around.

  Jillian had been a huge help to Sommer when she’d gone through one of her many breakups with Rory. No matter the subject, whenever she had a question, Jill had offered advice on her perception of and experience with the McLemore bloodline. Gorgeous. Rowdy. Able to piss off a girlfriend, and with good reason. But underneath all of that toughness, there was a prayer inspiring place. A place each of those badasses only shared with one person: the woman he loved. The wives were like a sisterhood. From Sarah McLemore on down. Over the years, Sommer had met his cousins, aunts, and even his twin sister was a regular card. Cory was so strong-willed when she set her mind on something. But it had been Jillian who just seemed to know what to say. How to frame Sommer’s desire to jump high and low when Rory made her see red.

  The song ended, and they all walked to the edge of the dance floor. “You need to drink something, baby,” Stephen informed Jill, and then turned to her. “Sommer, are you thirsty?”

  “I am,” she admitted, and refocused on Rory. “You?”

  “I could go for a beer. You want something different?” Rory spoke against the back of her head, his rough voice intensifying her desire to get lost with him in the darkness.

  Leaning against him, she curled her fingers over his shoulders. “Sounds good.”

  “Be back in a few.” Pressing against her, his hard-body far too tempting this close, he squeezed her hips, then released his hold on her.

  “How’s Chelsea?” she asked Jillian while pointing toward a table that was vacant.

  “I’m still nursing and my sweet baby is growing like a wildflower. But how are you?” Jillian raised an eyebrow. “I was on laundry duty. At Brandon’s place.”

  “Wait a sec. Rory told you?”

  “Don’t go off just yet. Stephen offered to help when Rory had to be in two places at once. And you know how men are. My husband called me on some pretext of needing to get something.”

  “Well, don’t get too upset.” Sommer rolled her eyes.

  “On the contrary, I’m glad to see you two are—”

  Sommer cut Jillian off. “We’re not as close as you think.”

  Jillian’s brows scrunched together. “Still?”

  “Yep. Still.” She nodded. “Promise me you’ll keep this between us.”

  “Girls’ promise,” Jillian replied.

  Sommer glanced down at her hands, locking and unlocking her fingers. “I want to. He wants to. But there’s the issue of getting hitched. I don’t want to say something that wil
l possibly question or insult anyone who’s married.”

  “You can’t. It isn’t the same from the outside. Everyone understands when it comes to questioning the future. Have you talked with Rory?”

  “Yeah but I’m still confused. More actually, about whether or not this is what I want.” She lifted her hand and made a small circle in the air, indicating Annona. “Rory is so sure of what he wants, but we’re young. He used to be so free and spontaneous. Now, he’s gotten so serious and I’m afraid we’re changing. Growing in different directions.”

  “He’s a McLemore. And ranching is in his blood. But so are you.”

  Her chest ached from admitting her fear. “Doubt he’ll wake up one morning and change his mind about staying here.”

  “Don’t give up. I never expected Stephen to ever come back to me and in a blink my whole world changed.”

  Sommer glanced over her shoulder, searching the crowd for two tall men and immediately, her eyes alighted on Rory and Stephen. Laughing, they stood in a group—then she gasped when her view was abruptly obstructed. “Hey,” she said, meeting Jen’s eyes.

  “Just wanted to stop by, and about earlier,” Jen sucked in a breath, her eyes bloodshot, and she wavered. “I can’t believe you stabbed me in the back. Of all people.”

  She went to rise from the bench but Jillian placed her hand on Sommer’s arm. “Need help?”

  “No. This is a misunderstanding.”

  Jen leaned over, angrily squinting her eyes. “No it ain’t. You’re a bitch. I’m a bitch. Payback is a bitch.”

  This time Sommer rose, swinging her legs over the side of the bench. She and Jen were nearly the same height, and Sommer moved closer, lifting her chin higher. “Don’t threaten me with payback. You’re high or drunk, so I’ll let this go. Come around again with talk of retribution and I won’t back down.”

  “Stay the hell away from anyone I’m seeing, or I’ll do more than talk.” Jen placed her hands on Sommer’s chest, clawing at her shirt and trying to yank her forward. But before she could do more than touch her, Sommer knocked her arms away.

  Jillian stood up between them and pointed. “Jen, better move away, or you’re going to get thrown out of here. I mean now.”

  A mixture of jealousy and resentment twisted Jen’s face into an ugly smirk. “You think you’re so special, just because you married the easiest lay in the county, and now have his kid. Wow. What an accomplishment. Ever wonder how many other kids he’s got out there?”

  Sommer’s rocketing anger torched her skin-deep. As if her emotions burst into an unchecked flame, a billowing heat wave raced up her neck, riling her worse than if her nerves and skin were short-circuiting. She shoved Jen, then followed her forward and shoved her again. Sommer leaned over, getting well into Jen’s face. “Get the hell away from us or I swear…I swear I’ll kick your ass.”

  Chapter 16

  “I’ve got you.” Rory held Sommer up against him. Her stiff body refused to relax, and she still hadn’t said word number one. Anger clung to her along with her unique floral fragrance as her body continued trembling from unspent rage.

  “Baby, simmer down,” he whispered, wrapping his arms around her middle to keep her immobilized until she softened to him.

  Quivering, she nodded mutely, and he looked over at Jill. “Are you okay? What happened?”

  “Yeah. Better come clean. Need to hear the details, darlin’.” Stephen scowled, tipping Jillian’s face upward as a muscle pulsed along his jaw. Not the usual for his brother, unless something was up with his wife or child. “What just went down?” his brother demanded softly.

  Jill glanced over to Sommer, in some silent communication he’d seen a million times between girls before any of them answered.

  “It’s over. Just a case of too much to drink and not enough functioning brain cells on duty,” Jillian retorted.

  “Don’t know if that’s entirely the full story. If it weren’t for your brother playing, I’d say let’s pack this in and head home,” Stephen said.

  “You said it,” Jill replied before she kissed her husband.

  “Baby,” Stephen murmured low against his wife’s cheek. He wound his arm around Jill before turning to him and Sommer. “Never seen you spitting mad, Somm. You all right?”

  “Better,” she answered in a husky voice.

  Rory rubbed his fingers along the taut muscles over Sommer’s stomach, mindful to keep from grinding against her ass as she pressed up to him. His brother was right. Tonight, she’d unleashed a side that none of them had seen.

  Glancing back to the stage, Rory watched Hellhound set up, and caught sight of Jen and Ivy standing at the side in the shadows, but staring over here. He looked away in frustration, wondering how this rapidly widening rift between friends would impact Sommer. Two against one had to be shit to deal with. The last time she’d had a load of heavy problems at home compounded by him giving her an ultimatum, she’d taken off. He’d wanted to get her out from under a problem believing them married was the solution. With her distinct pressure cooker method in how she dealt with life the endpoint was clear. If he didn’t find a way to reach past the stress coming at Sommer from all sides, this boiling mess would soon explode.

  Fuck. Rory saw how he contributed to the dilemma by adding his own fuel to her fire. But how to stop being one more issue on her plate? He wasn’t about to fuck her without her being his wife, but he couldn’t very well keep harping on his desire to marry her, either. Not with this storm brewing.

  He rubbed his chin along her shoulder, a click away from openly nuzzling her neck. He’d always held back, but now the only person who mattered was Sommer. “You want that drink?” he asked her.

  “Sure,” she said, running her hands along his arms. Another rock of her round ass against his cock squeezed the breath from his lungs.

  The raw urge to bury himself to the hilt in her coursed under his skin. At the verge and it was a battle. Word one and he’d toss her over his shoulder like a Texas caveman and do what his cock demanded. Leaning over, he swiped the Budweiser off the table, inadvertently rubbing his harder that shit shaft against her ass. Every ligament and tendon he possessed tightened.

  He shifted on his feet, his arms enclosing Sommer as he tilted the can away from her and popped the tab. The spray shot upward and didn’t hit anyone, but still she flinched. Her ass torpedoed his crotch. He dented the aluminum can as the muscles of his arm contracted.

  “Drink, baby.” He held the can up to her lips, struggling to maintain a perimeter of open space between her bottom and his throbbing hard-on. If Stephen and Jill weren’t here, he’d take her back to his truck, lay her down on the seat, and give her some relief from her tightly strung nerves. Not that his blue balls couldn’t use an orgasm or two.

  When she finished her sip, he tipped back the can, finishing half and held it out to her. A loud rift sounded and he shifted his gaze back toward the stage. Half-paying attention, until a waving hand belonging to Jen snagged his focus. She blew a kiss over, not one but a few, and he wasn’t sure if the gesture was aimed at Sommer or someone else. There were several people sitting on folding chairs around the tables set up, other people were leaning against the trees, and so far, Sommer didn’t seem to respond.

  “Take a walk with me,” he whispered against her ear, impatient to get her away for a few minutes until the music started.

  “Where to?” she asked.

  “Not far.” Tossing the unfinished beer, he shot a look over to Stephen. “Save our spots.”

  “You got it. Everything okay?” his brother asked.

  Jill leaned over. “You guys don’t have to stay.”

  “We want to. Haden’s playing,” Sommer said. “I’m a diehard Diehard fan.”

  “Yep. You’re loyal to a fault.” Jillian flashed her eyes up to him and then back to Sommer, nodding. “Go for a walk and talk.”

  He led her to the parking lot and wordlessly to his truck. Op
ening up the door, he glanced around the lot, and patted the seat. “Get in and lie down. Spread your legs for me, and I’ll make you feel better.”

  “Why?”

  “Because you need someone to take care of you. Right now. Baby, let me.”

  She nodded, turning and placing her hands on his biceps. “I don’t know if I’m good company…”

  “We’re not here to have a conversation. Not with words anyway,” he growled, curling his fingers over her hips and lifting her up the front of him. Feeling her move along his length had him convinced this was the right idea. Not the perfect place, but for what she needed and what he could deliver, it would work. With the blowout attendance at the Diamond, they were parked across the street, in an open field. Quiet. No one around. Hardly any light, but more than enough to enjoy Sommer stretched across his seat, hiking up her skirt, and giving him a view worth staring at when she opened her legs.

  “Now what?” She lifted her leg and hooked her booted ankle on his shoulder.

  “Like these?” He skimmed his fingers along the flimsy red material hindering his view of her. “I don’t think they can be saved.”

  “No? How come?”

  He slipped his finger underneath the crotch of her panties, across her sleek skin, and snapped his wrist. Hard.

  “That’s how come,” he snarled and pushed aside the frayed edges, hungry to see her beautiful, slick sex.

  The silky feel of her damp skin unimpeded to his fingers, sent a crack of electricity through him—a jolt that shot right to his dick. From stiff he went rigid, painfully pulsing with each heartbeat. Excruciating to hold back as Rory gazed at where he craved to be. His whole body howled—his self-control splintered by razor sharp need. His balls throbbed to fill her. What he’d give to splay her thighs, align his crown, and thoroughly take her.