by Jenny Penn
“You mean Sally,” Brett corrected him, but GD didn’t even smirk as he ignored that dig.
“And Kyle. They’re very familiar with this course.”
“That almost sounds like you think they might beat us.” Brett paused, waiting for GD to join him in a laugh, but all he got was a pointed look. “You do think that!”
“Just because you’re bigger doesn’t mean you’ll be faster,” GD warned him. “Hailey didn’t pick two pussies, even if you don’t want to admit it.”
“Oh please. Mike and I wiped the floor with those two, and what the hell is that look for?”
“Just because somebody doesn’t fight back doesn’t make them weak.” GD paused, instinctively glancing back over at Kitty Anne and smiling.
“She’s impressive, too,” Brett commented, amused by the way that compliment had GD’s chest swelling outward with pride.
“That she is.”
“That’s a big rock on her finger, too.”
“Yep.” GD glanced over at Brett, his grin growing. “You planning on getting Angie one? Because I can hook you up with the jeweler.”
“I think I’ll wait until I know she’s going to say yes.”
Before GD could respond to that, Mike came jogging up. He’d been moody most the day, but right then, he was wearing a wide grin. Shirtless and sweaty, his brother glanced between GD’s smirk and Brett’s scowl before settling on the big man.
“This thing is an awesome workout.”
“Better than Angie?”
Mike stilled at that question. His smile faded into a dangerous look as he narrowed his gaze on GD. “What are you talking about?”
“He knows,” Brett warned his brother.
Mike blinked that in and then did just what Brett had. He changed the topic. “What happened with the dead bird, man?”
GD snorted, clearly irritated at both brothers’ attempt to avoid the subject he clearly wanted to linger on. “It’s a long story, and, trust me, you don’t want to hear it.”
“That bad, huh?”
“It’s a camera imbedded in a stuffed bird and pointed at a bed. How can it not be that bad?” GD shot back. “Even worse, you got Wanda all worked up. You know how she feels about crimes against women. She takes it personally.”
“Wanda.” Brett shivered at just the thought of GD’s cousin. She’d beat him up when they’d been little. He was not looking to running into her now that she was grown. “How long she sticking around for?”
“Too long.”
That, apparently, was all GD had to say about that subject. He wasn’t even subtle about it. He just walked away, leaving Mike and Brett with the uncomfortable silence that seemed to arise whenever they were alone.
“You get the feeling he’s not thrilled with Wanda’s visit?”
“Why should he be?”
Wanda was trouble. Always had been. GD hadn’t been lying about her making everything personal, or her drive to protect what she considered the weak. In that one small way, Brett could respect her. He just also wanted to steer clear of her.
The awkward tension rose back up, but Brett couldn’t stand it anymore. “So, when are we going to talk about the fact that Angie is pissed at us?”
“When I know what we’re going to do about it?” Mike responded after a second. “Because, right now, I don’t have a clue. You?”
“Not really…but dinner, a romantic dinner, heartfelt declarations, the whole prince charming thing, I would think that would be called for at this point.” Brett just never had done any of those things. Neither had Mike.
“I just don’t think it’s that easy,” Mike insisted.
“Why not?” Brett didn’t understand why Mike was so hesitant when it was obvious that seduction was called for. At the very least, it couldn’t hurt, but Mike was the brains, and he actually had a good reason for his concern.
“Because…I mean, Angie has been dreaming of us for years,” Mike stressed. “She created a fantasy. She fell in love with it, and last night…maybe she felt the difference.”
Brett blinked that in, realizing in that moment that Mike hadn’t doubted himself. He’d doubted Angie. “You’re saying she doesn’t really love us.”
“I’m saying she doesn’t really know us, and that’s not something you fix with a dinner.”
“But dinner is the place where you start to fix it.” After all, if she didn’t know whether they were the same men she’d dreamed of, it was time to prove that they were.
“All right.” Mike slowly nodded, though he still seemed reluctant. “We’ll start with dinner.”
Chapter 17
Angie’s phone buzzed for the fourth time in as many hours. This time it was Mike’s name that flashed across her screen, but still, she ignored its summons. Instead, she sat there tense and nervous, waiting for the sound to stop as Lana eyed her from the other side of the desk. She’d been showing Angie how she organized the schedule so that it was easily managed.
They’d been at it all day and most of the night. Lana was training her so Angie could train Lana’s replacement. In the process, she’d started to type everything up and fill it into a book that was quickly becoming Angie’s new work bible. Names, contact, how to operate every computer system, it was all there.
So were Brett and Mike.
They weren’t going anywhere, and neither was her problem. It would be nice, though, if she could at least understand why her heart was racing. Angie didn’t have a clue. All she knew was that the very thought of them made her panic. Lana seemed to sense it.
“Are you ever planning on talking to those boys again?” she asked, a hint of amusement softening her words.
“I might,” Angie shot back with a shrug, trying to play it off as if she weren’t half as freaked out as she was.
“I thought you said they were good,” Lana reminded her, as if that counted for much.
“Technically speaking.”
Angie could admit that, but that didn’t mean she wanted to talk about it. So she did what she’d done whenever Lana had brought up either Brett or Mike. She changed the subject. Unfortunately, she was running out of subjects, but there was one big one she hadn’t brought up yet.
“So, did Patton talk to you about her club idea?” Angie asked innocently, knowing she was about to blow Lana’s mind.
“What?” Lana stilled at that, blinking in wide-eyed confusion. “Patton’s starting her own club?”
“Yep.”
“Don’t they call those places asylums?” Lana leaned back in her seat with a laugh, clearly amusing herself. “Or is she planning on starting a clown college? What? I’ve got to know. What is Patton’s club going to be?”
“The Cattlewoman’s Club.” Angie didn’t hesitate this time, feeling more as if she was defending her friend than betraying her.
That answer certainly had Lana sobering up, along with straightening up. “The Cattlewoman’s? You mean, she’s going to find men to crawl naked on leashes?”
“I think she’s thinking more along the lines of the Harem on steroids with male strippers to keep the women entertained.”
At least, that was about as much as Angie had listened to, but that didn’t mean she hadn’t caught the general gist of Patton’s grand plan. Neither was she unaware of the risk she was taking in revealing all to Lana.
“I think the real point of the club is to kind of unionize the ladies from this club and pool their power to have more say about how they interact with the Cattlemen.”
“She wants to be head bitch.” Lana summarized Patton’s goal rather well, even if she was just a little off the mark.
“Actually, I think she wants you to be head bitch.”
“What?” Lana’s mouth actually fell open, and seconds later, laughter came rolling out. “That is the craziest thing I’ve heard in ages.”
“Maybe.” Angie didn’t want to cast that stone because she beginning to realize that the craziest thing around was actually her.
Sh
e’d convinced herself that she was in love with Brett and Mike, but what if she wasn’t? What if she was in love with a dream? What if Lana was, too?
“Actually”—Angie frowned as the idea growing in her head developed with each word—“I think maybe it would be a good thing. You know, you and Chase have never been equals, not in business, not in your relationship.”
That observation had Lana’s laughter drying up. Her brow began to narrow into a frown, but Angie barely noticed. She was too busy realizing just how much she and Lana had in common.
“That’s sort of something Patton has with him that you don’t.”
Patton had always been in love with Chase, but it hadn’t weakened her. It hadn’t reduced her to his servant, but rather his match. That was where Patton’s confidence came from, along with the certainty that she didn’t have to fear Lana. Chase would always be hers.
“She’s giving you a chance to have it.” It was a setup. Angie could see that now. “Once you do, you’ll realize that you can do better than him.”
“Ha!” Lana shook her head at Angie. “You’re as crazy as she is if you believe that shit. Nobody is Chase’s equal. The man is an island. He holds himself above everybody else. Trust me, I know.”
Angie didn’t think Lana did. She didn’t think Chase held himself above Patton, though she wouldn’t deny that is what made Patton special. That was what made Angie feel less than with Mike and Brett. They weren’t equal.
Angie had been chasing them for so many years. She was tired. She wanted to be the one who was pursued. If that was what she really wanted, then she was going to have to answer her phone.
“Angie!” Lana snapped a finger in front of her, making Angie start as she realized she’d drifted off. “You okay? You seemed to check out there for a moment.”
“Yeah.” Angie shook off her doubts with the determined reminder that her relationship with Brett and Mike could turn out differently than Lana and Chase’s.
Maybe she had been a little naïve in thinking things would be perfect, but that didn’t mean they couldn’t be. Some things just required work. One thing Angie knew was that Brett and Mike were worth the effort…or, at least, her dreams were.
Angie glanced up at the clock. It was almost nine in the evening. There was still enough time to salvage the night. With that thought, she reached for her phone.
* * * *
“Was that Angie?” Mike tossed that question over his shoulder at Brett, whose phone had rung just a moment ago.
“I don’t know,” Brett muttered as he glared at his phone. “I think we lost the connection. I haven’t got any bars.”
“Eh.” Mike shrugged off that concern. “We can give her another ring when we get back into town.”
“Or maybe we could surprise her,” Brett suggested. “Women love surprises. I think they consider them romantic.”
“Depends on the surprise.” After all, it was a surprise that had gotten them into this mess.
Mike knew that it had been a tactical mistake to slip into Angie’s bed and molest her like he had, but the truth was, he hadn’t been thinking straight. Actually, he hadn’t been thinking at all. He’d been riding high on emotion, overwhelmed by the sudden sense of freedom.
He knew Angie would never understand. Mike didn’t suspect he could explain it to her, but he really did feel better now that he’d worked off his aggression on his old man. All the frustration, all the resentment, all the bitterness, it was all gone. Now when Mike thought of his father, all he thought of was a pathetic, old bastard.
They’d been better off without him.
“What’s that?” Brett straightened up in his seat as the sight of the lights that had glimmered in the distance grew brighter.
They were flashing, and there were people in the road. Women. There were women in the road, and they were waving for help. Mike slowed down, coming to a stop beside one seriously stacked brunette, who clung to his window as he rolled it down.
“Is there a problem?” he asked, certain he already knew the answer.
Their car was pulled over to the side. Four of the hottest women he’d ever seen were crowding in around the truck. They were barely dressed, and he couldn’t help but think that this was the way so many pornos started. Even the brunette’s answer sounded scripted.
“We’ve run out of gas, and our phones don’t have any coverage.” The brunette batted her thick lashes at him as she offered Mike a smile that he knew well. “Could you help us?”
* * * *
Angie bit back a yawn and glanced over at the clock. It was nearly two in the morning, and she still hadn’t heard from Mike or Brett. She’d tried calling them several times but kept getting dumped into voicemail. She didn’t know what that meant and couldn’t help but be a little unnerved.
Those concerns remained only whispers thanks to Lana, who kept her busy all night long. The club was once again Master-less. What with Brett and Mike having disappeared, GD having quit, and the terms of the Davis brothers’ truce with Patton being they hadn’t worked when Lana was on duty, things had gotten a little crazy for a while.
They’d settled down, though, and now that she finally looked up at the clock, Angie was stunned at the time and suddenly a little panicked. God, she hoped they hadn’t gotten into another fight, or worse. That right there was the problem. She didn’t actually know them well enough to know what kind of trouble they would be likely to get in.
It had been years since they’d hung out. Truth was she’d thought they’d hold out longer, that she’d have more time to get to know them again, but now she didn’t even know what to expect as she headed for the front of the club and the ride Lana had called up to the butler’s station to arrange for.
There actually weren’t any taxis this time of night, but a valet would work. What she got instead was Dean. The brash, young buck offered her a big smile and tip of his hat as she walked up toward him.
“Evenin’.”
“I thought a valet was going to give me a lift,” Angie responded, without bothering with a polite greeting or even acknowledging his.
“I’m headed toward town, so I offered.” Dean smiled all innocently, but Angie knew better. There was nothing innocent about the man.
“Great.” Angie heaved a deep sigh, wondering if she should insist on a valet.
“Oh, come on,” Dean cajoled her as he tried to place a hand on her back to lead her toward the truck the valet had pulled up under the main entrance’s carport.
Angie shrugged away from his touch, shooting him a sharp look. “Don’t even.”
“All right.” Dean held his hands up in surrender, falling in step behind her as she led the way to his truck. “Don’t worry. I’m not trying to make a move here.”
Angie snorted at that. Dean was always making a move. That was just the kind of guy he was, but he wasn’t dangerous or known to push. So, she allowed the valet to assist her up into the cab as Dean jogged around the hood to the driver’s side.
“No, I’m serious,” Dean said, picking up their conversation as if there had been no lull. “Why is it that women always think I’m hitting on them?”
“Because you are?” Angie snorted as she buckled herself in, already feeling confined as the valet shut the door and trapped her in the cab with Dean.
“See, that’s what I don’t get,” Dean complained as he eased the truck around the lushly landscaped island that curved around with the cobblestone drive. “I ask an honest question, and you just dismiss me.”
Angie couldn’t deny that, so she simply avoided it. “You’re supposed to put your seat belt on. It’s the law.”
“And if I do, will you tell me what it is I want to know?”
“Trust me, you don’t really want an answer,” Angie assured him as the thump of the road smoothed out into asphalt and the lights of the club began to fade into the background.
They weren’t needed for her to see the look Dean shot her as he reached for his seat belt and snappe
d it pointedly into place. As if she couldn’t read the intent behind that action, he prodded her almost instantly with a patient but firm-sounding command that only a Cattleman could perfect so well.
“I’m waiting.”
“Fine.” Angie gave in, but she had one condition. “Just don’t get mad at me and leave me on the side of the road because you don’t like what you are hearing.”
“Trust me, honey, I’d never do a lady like that.”
“There,” Angie snapped, clearly shocking him with the sharpness of her tone. “That’s the problem. You’re a condescending punk, who talks and acts like he’s a twelve-year-old with his first boner.”
“I got my first boner when I was—”
“I don’t care.” Angie held up her hands in a bid to be spared that bit of information. “You asked. I answered.”
“That you did.” Dean nodded, and then, thankfully, he shut up.
As the silence and the road stretched on, Angie began to feel a little bad for being so brutally blunt. He had asked, though. Insisted, actually. Still, she could sense a decent enough guy lurking underneath all the attitude. He couldn’t even be blamed for having an attitude. His reputation preceded him, but more importantly, so did his age.
Angie had been raised in an age when men were supposed to be men, all rough and hard. Dean was young enough to have been raised in an age when men were supposed to be boys, all hip and cool and smooth. Those terms would never be used on either Mike or Brett.
“Can I ask you a question?” Dean finally broke the silence, pulling Angie from her thoughts as she glanced over at him.
“If I say no, you’re going to anyway, right?”
He flashed her a quick smile. “I’m just curious if the rumors are true.”
“They rarely are,” Angie informed him. “Especially about me, but you can go ahead and ask.”
“Did you really just decide to be in love with Brett and Mike because of some dream?” Dean’s smile faded slightly as his words seem to weigh on him. “I mean, can you do that? Just decide to love somebody and…love them?”
