by Jane Graves
Marc reached beneath her shirt and flicked open the front clasp of her bra, shoving the cups aside. He squeezed one of her breasts, then strummed her nipple with his thumb. She moaned against his mouth, then ripped her lips away and jerked her shirt off. Her bra came off along with it, and he yanked them both from her hand and hurled them aside. She trailed her fingers down the front of his shirt, flicking the buttons open. Then she flattened her palms against his chest, dragging them down to his belt buckle. He grabbed her hands.
“Inside.”
“Not yet,” Kari said.
She shoved his hands away and had his belt unbuckled in record time. She whipped it out of the belt loops and threw it aside, the buckle clinking against the concrete floor. Seconds later, she had his jeans unbuttoned. She shoved them down along with his underwear just enough to free him. Then she dropped to her knees in front of him.
Marc froze with anticipation. No. No way. Was she actually going to do that? Right here? Right now? Right in the middle of—
Holy shit.
She wrapped her hand around him. He took in a sharp, silent breath, his raging erection turning to solid rock. She slid her hand down its length all the way to the base, and then he felt her hot breath against the tip. Slowly she closed her lips around him. He dropped his head back against the wall with a harsh groan, gritting his teeth, his eyes squeezed closed. She licked and teased, then took him deeper into her mouth. He reached down to thread his fingers through that beautiful auburn hair, tightening them almost involuntarily against her scalp.
He’d never felt anything like it in his life. Never. Never. He knew they should be inside. Behind closed doors. Only crazy people did things like this. But the truth was that he didn’t care where they were. At that moment, all he knew was that her mouth was on him, moving in a way that was so hot, so carnal, so unbelievably perfect that he couldn’t think about anything else. All he wanted was more.
Then all at once he heard something. An engine. Soft at first, then louder. What the hell…?
A car. It was a car. And it was coming down the road from the front gate to the house. He froze, listening, waiting for the car to stop in front of the house and the engine to die. But it wasn’t stopping. The engine noise grew louder. The car was coming all the way around the house to the garage.
“Kari,” he said, barely able to speak. “Kari!”
She looked up at him. He took her by the upper arms and pulled her to her feet. “Somebody’s here!”
“Who?”
He yanked his pants up. “I don’t know. Your shirt! Grab it!”
“My bra. I need to—”
“Forget the bra,” he said, buttoning his own shirt. “Just put on your shirt!”
As Kari grabbed her T-shirt and pulled it over her head, Marc fastened his jeans and buttoned his shirt. He ran a hand through his hair and scooted her bra around the back tire of his motorcycle with the toe of his boot just as the car wheeled around and parked in front of the garage. They stood there nonchalantly as a man got out of the car. In the darkness outside the barn, Marc couldn’t make out who it was. Then he stepped into the light, and Marc almost groaned out loud.
He was dressed in jeans, beat-up sneakers, and a T-shirt that read “Professional Beta Tester. Give Me the Free Stuff.” He looked back and forth between Marc and Kari, and the look of surprise on his face morphed into a broad, brilliant smile.
“Holy crap, Marc,” he said. “Angela’s been at college only a week. You’re not wasting any time, are you?”
“Daniel?” Marc said. “What the hell are you doing here?”
Chapter 10
Kari was confused. Who was Daniel, and why was he smiling at the same time Marc looked slightly homicidal?
“What do you mean, what am I doing here?” Daniel said. “You knew I was coming.”
“You’re a week early,” Marc snapped.
“And here I thought you’d be thrilled to see me.”
“You should be at the house. What are you doing down here?”
“The house was dark. I saw the light in the barn.”
“Go away.”
“Marc? Where are your manners? Shouldn’t you introduce me?” He strode over to Kari, holding out his hand. “Hi. I’m Daniel. Marc’s brother.”
Now she remembered Nina mentioning his name, but she still had a hard time believing it. This congenial, gregarious man was Marc’s brother? The family resemblance was there. They were both big men with the same build, but the intensity Marc exuded with every breath was totally absent in Daniel. He had dark, shaggy hair that brushed his collar in the back, a mouth that was clearly used to smiling, and eyes that sparkled with mischief.
Kari shook his hand. “Nice to meet you.”
“Kari is staying in the cottage,” Marc said. “Just for a few weeks.”
“Ah,” Daniel said.
“She had some bad luck.”
“Uh-huh.”
“So she’s a little short on money.”
“I see.”
“We were just…looking at my motorcycle.”
That grin again. “Oh, you were, were you?”
“What are you doing here already?” Marc said.
Daniel shrugged. “Missed you, dude. Couldn’t wait to see you.”
“That’s a load of crap.”
“I’m running from the law and need to hide out?”
“Another load of crap.”
“I’m terminally ill and came home to die?”
Marc glared at him. Daniel leaned toward Kari and whispered, “He didn’t buy it. What do I do now?”
“I don’t know.” She turned to Marc. “What does he do now?”
“He goes in the house,” Marc said. “Now.”
“No problem, bro. Oh, by the way…did you know your shirt’s buttoned wrong?”
Marc looked down at himself, closing his eyes with frustration, then turned his gaze back up to glare at Daniel.
“I’d point out a few other things wrong with this picture, such as your belt on the ground over there, but I don’t think they’d be well received. But y’all don’t stop on my account, you hear?”
“Go!” Marc said.
Daniel gave Marc one last grin and left the garage, heading up the path to the house.
“I’m sorry,” Marc said, once his brother was out of earshot. “Daniel has a way of showing up unannounced.”
Kari inched closer, sliding her hand up Marc’s chest. “Well, he did say not to stop on his account…”
Marc closed his eyes, drooping with frustration.
“Okay,” Kari said, dropping her hand to her side. “I hear you. I guess the mood is kinda screwed up.”
“Thanks to Daniel.”
“How long has it been since you’ve seen him?”
“A year and a half.”
“You’d better go catch up.”
Marc let out a breath. “I hate this, Kari. After the other night—”
“It’s okay. Tomorrow’s another day, right?”
But Kari wasn’t completely sure of that. As soon as Marc left there, he might start being Marc again and thinking too logically about what was going on between them. He might go back to thinking it wasn’t a good idea, and having his brother in the house would probably only compound the problem. But what else could she do but bow out for now?
As Marc headed for the house, rebuttoning his shirt as he went, he was having a hell of a time walking. That was what happened when he was rock hard but was forced to fasten a pair of jeans. He was lucky he’d even been able to button the damned things.
Damn you, Daniel. Your timing sucks!
As he walked to the house, he got a good look at the car Daniel had driven up in, and he felt an entirely different kind of frustration.
It was a sports car. On closer inspection, a Porsche. Fire-engine red, of course, because his brother didn’t know cars came in any other color. Evidently he’d gotten tired of the Corvette he’d bought last year and de
cided to trade up.
Marc came through the back door to find Daniel sitting at the kitchen table, leaning over to scratch Brandy as she writhed in ecstasy on the floor. Daniel was her hands-down favorite family member, and no wonder. He sneaked her table scraps, let her jump all over him, and thought it was funny when she chewed on his shoes, which turned into her chewing on everybody else’s shoes. After a visit from Daniel, it took Marc a week to get his well-behaved dog back again.
“What a surprise,” Marc said. “You have a new car.”
“Yep,” Daniel said. “A Porsche 911 Carrera. Sweet as can be. Zero to sixty in four-point-three seconds.”
“When did you buy it?”
“A week ago. Saw it in a dealership window and had to have it.”
“How many tickets so far?”
“Only two. Would have been three, but the third cop was a woman. She took one look at my handsome face and just couldn’t do it.” Daniel gave Brandy one last pat and sat up. “Okay. My turn. When did you start stocking the cottage with beautiful women?”
Marc figured he could either tell the story now or have Daniel bug him about it for the next hour. Finally he just sat down and related the events of the past few days as matter-of-factly as he could, but that didn’t stop his brother from acting as if the story was entertainment at its finest.
“Are you telling me a beautiful woman just showed up on your front porch out of the blue?” Daniel said. “Like a gift from God?”
“No. If God was going to send me a woman, he would have sent a clean, dry one who didn’t just leave her fiancé at the altar.”
“Who cares? She’s gorgeous.”
Marc hadn’t missed how Daniel had flashed his too-charming smile at Kari, then paid entirely too much attention to the clear outline of her braless breasts beneath her T-shirt, and it grated on his nerves like nothing else.
“Hey, I’m proud of you,” Daniel went on. “You’ve had a ‘No Admittance’ sign up for years. It’s about time you unlocked the door. And look what was standing on the other side when you did.”
“Will you stop talking about Kari? What goes on between us is our business.”
“No problem. I have another woman on my mind, anyway.”
Marc slumped with dismay. “Tell me you’re not talking about Terri Vaughn.”
“So you don’t think she’ll be glad to see me?”
“Glad to see you? You’ll be lucky if she doesn’t grab a shotgun and blow you away. After what happened last time you were at City Limits, you deserve it.”
“Come on, Marc,” Daniel said, rubbing his hands together. “Let’s go grab a beer. I love living dangerously.”
It had been a year and a half since Daniel had come back to the vineyard, giving Marc enough time to forget what his brother was like. A year and a half to forget, five minutes to remember.
“Fine,” Marc said. “But I’m driving. And don’t expect me to help you out. If bullets start flying, you’re on your own.”
City Limits was a blue-collar bar and grill located at the intersection of Highway 28 and the middle of nowhere, opened by Les Parker in the 1960s in response to Rainbow Valley liquor laws. The fact that it was inches outside the city limits gave the establishment its name and brought the wrath of the upstanding citizens of Rainbow Valley right down on Les’s head. Evidently back then, an evening of drinking and dancing condemned a person to hell for eternity.
Decades later, Terri Vaughn bought the place and ran it in Les’s tradition, offering cold beer, hot barbecue, and an easygoing atmosphere that welcomed locals and tourists alike. Only a few citizens remained who believed a trip to City Limits excluded a person from walking through the Pearly Gates, but Marc was afraid the moment Daniel showed his face there again, Terri was going to personally send him up there to see if that rumor was true or not.
The crowd was light as Marc and Daniel slid onto barstools. Terri was behind the bar, drawing a couple of frozen margaritas for customers. Her long blond hair was tied in a loose ponytail. She wore tight boot-cut jeans slung low on her hips and a T-shirt that hugged her breasts in a way that left nothing to the imagination. She moved with the authority of a woman who took no crap from anyone, but at the same time she wore the smile of a businesswoman who knew how to keep her customers happy.
“My God,” Daniel said on a breath. “Is it possible for her to be a year older and even hotter than the last time I saw her?”
Terri laughed at something one of her customers said, then turned around. The moment she laid eyes on Daniel, her smile vanished.
She sauntered over with a stone-faced, narrow-eyed stare. Placing her palms on the bar, she leaned in and looked at Daniel as if he was dirt on the bottom of her boot. “Daniel Cordero. I do believe I threw you out of here. I expected that to stick.”
Daniel assumed a properly chastised expression. “Now, you know I’m real sorry about what happened that night. And I did pay for the damages.”
Terri flicked her gaze to Marc, then looked back at Daniel. “Here’s the deal. I’ll let you drink in my bar, but only because you’re with Marc. But if you get out of line again, not even your brother will be able to save you.”
“Enough about Marc,” Daniel said. “Let’s talk about us.”
Terri’s glare sharpened. “I’m running a bar. Unless you’re placing an order, you and I got nothing to talk about.”
“Coors,” Daniel said with a smile. “And make sure it’s ice-cold. It’d be a shame to warm up this frigid relationship we’ve got going.”
Terri turned to Marc. “The usual?”
“Yep.”
“Coming up.”
A minute later, she set the drinks down, giving Daniel a stare that was even frostier than the beer. As she walked away, he tilted his head and followed every shift of her hips. Marc was surprised his tongue wasn’t dragging on the ground.
“If she sees you looking at her like that, she’ll bust your balls,” Marc said. “Then she’ll bust the rest of you.”
Daniel sighed. “Yeah, but what a way to go.”
“What are you doing here a week early?”
“Besides throwing a wet blanket over my brother’s love life?”
“Yeah,” Marc deadpanned. “Besides that.”
Daniel shrugged. “Bad breakup. Figured I’d move on before she put a contract out on me.”
“What is it with you and women? Do you have to drive all of them to the brink of homicide?”
“Any day I’m still breathing I consider a good day. Hey, speaking of women, when is Angela coming home for a visit? I’m sure she’s dying to see her favorite uncle.”
Speaking of women? At age eighteen, Angela qualified. But would there ever come a day when Marc looked at her and didn’t see a seven-year-old girl with a ragged, self-inflicted pixie haircut and a missing front tooth?
“With luck, it’ll be a long time,” Marc said. “The longer she stays at school without coming home for a visit, the more comfortable I’ll know she is.” He paused. “I’m a little worried about her. UT is a big place. She’s not used to that.”
“She’ll be fine, particularly with the boys. She’s gorgeous. They’re gonna love her.”
“You said that just to piss me off, didn’t you?”
“Angela can take care of herself. You worry too much.” Daniel took a sip of his beer. “If you’d let me pay for her college, at least you could stop worrying about that.”
“I don’t worry about that.”
“Then it would be the only thing you don’t worry about.”
“We’ve been through this. It’s my responsibility, not yours.”
“Well, I’m getting ready to take all kinds of responsibility off your shoulders. Might as well throw that into the mix.”
“It’s handled.”
“It’s a drop in the bucket to me,” Daniel said. “Let me pay it. Then you never have to think about it again.”
“Keep your money. It’s easy to spend too much and
then wish you hadn’t. Are you saving? Might want to think about the future.”
Daniel frowned. “Great. Here it comes again. Your rainy-day speech. Christ, Marc. I’m your brother, not your kid. I don’t need your advice about every fucking thing.”
Marc wholeheartedly disagreed with that. He wanted to ask Daniel who he thought had raised him from the time he was thirteen years old. Who made sure that there was enough money put away for his college after their parents were gone, because he had a genius-level IQ and it would have been a waste if he hadn’t had the chance to go to college. Was it really so unreasonable for Marc to worry that even the incredible amount of money his brother had been able to make he would fritter away? If that happened, one more person would end up on Marc’s list of people to worry about all over again. But since he’d hoped for a whole evening to go by before he and Daniel got into it over something, he decided it was best to drop it.
Daniel eyed Terri again, zeroing in on her ass as she bent over to pick up a stray straw off the ground. Then he looked back at Marc. “Did I tell you I spent some time in Napa recently?”
“No. You didn’t mention that.”
“Being a part owner of a vineyard is surprisingly good date bait.”
“Right up there with being a millionaire?”
“Nah. Money only gets you so far. But wine—that’s romantic. I spouted all kinds of crap about vintages and appellations and color and clarity. Pour a woman a glass of wine and talk about mouth feel, and she’s yours.”
“Dad would be so proud. He taught you all about wine making so you could pick up women.”
Daniel looked heavenward. “Thanks, Dad. Appreciate it.”
“I don’t suppose you’ve finally developed a taste for the stuff, have you?”
“Oh, hell no,” Daniel said. “If I never see another glass of wine again, it’ll be too soon.”
“You’ve actually got a better palate than the rest of us. Like it or not, you know what you’re tasting, and that’s all that matters.”
“I’d probably know every nuance of Drano if I tasted it, too. I’d just rather not.”
