Angie's Destiny [Cattleman's Club 7] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting)

by Jenny Penn

  “GD! Kevin is—oh, hello there.” Coming to a stumbling stop, the stranger blinked up at Brett with the most brilliant violet eyes he’d only ever seen once before.

  Patton had eyes like that and hair a few shades lighter but with the same reddish streaks. In fact, if the two of them were standing next to each other, Brett would have sworn they were siblings, but that couldn’t be…could it?

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt.” The guy seemed nervous and was shooting GD pointed looks. “If I could, though, have a moment with you, Mr. Davis?”

  “Sure.” GD slapped Brett on the back, jarring him out of his stupor as he walked past. “I’ll be back in a moment, buddy.”

  “Sure,” Brett echoed, shaking his head free of the ridiculous thoughts that had caught a hold for a moment.

  Patton didn’t have any siblings. She had a mother who had run off and a father who had been murdered, but no brothers. Even if she did, there was no way GD would be hiding that fact. He was tight with the Davis brothers. Not as tight as Brett and Mike, but pretty damn close.

  They’d all gone to school together. Who they had not attended class with was Dean. That bastard sure as hell didn’t owe Brett or Mike a single thing. Just the opposite. He had every right to his revenge.

  Mike and Brett had been completely in the wrong. That wasn’t something that sat well with Brett, especially not if Dean wasn’t really after Angie. That still left him curious about what the other man was after. He put that question to Mike not a half-hour later.

  Some kind of emergency had erupted with one of the kids, requiring not just GD and Nick to go off to assist, but Kitty Anne as well. They’d all rushed off, leaving Mike and Brett to figure out what to do with the rest of the night. There was a lot of night left, but that didn’t change the direction Mike turned in as they reached the end of the drive.

  They were headed home for another long, lonely night. That grim thought took Brett back to the reason they had to suffer—Dean. Dean and his deal. Something was wrong there. Brett could just sense it, but he couldn’t figure out what it was.

  “Brett!” Mike snapped, shooting him an annoyed look as a semi whooshed past, headed in the opposite direction. Its bright lights cut across the cab and illuminated Mike’s frown as Brett blinked and glanced over at him.

  “What?”

  “Weren’t you listening to what I was saying?”

  Brett blinked and frowned, straining to think of the right answer. It was pretty obvious. “You talking about Kitty Anne and the deal you two were working out.”

  “And?”

  “And…it’s a go?”

  “Brett.” Mike sighed, assuring Brett that he had guessed wrong.

  “So, it’s a no.”

  “I didn’t say that,” Mike snapped, confusing Brett all the more.

  “Then what the hell did you say?”

  “That you weren’t listening to me!”

  That retort had Brett growling as he all but threw his hands up in frustration. His brother was determined to be difficult. Well, so was Brett. Dismissing Mike and his woman-like hissy fit, Brett went back to mulling over their current predicament.

  While GD might not have had much to say about the matter, Hailey had tons. She lectured them almost every time she saw them. Brett put up with it only because she was also willing to pass messages to Angie and relay back more than just the answers.

  From Hailey’s perspective, Mike’s plan was a roaring success. Angie seemed to be melting beneath all the attention. Knowing that only made it all the harder to stay away, which was just why Brett really wanted to know what had motivated Dean to make the deal he had. Especially if Dean knew he couldn’t win.

  That question bugged the shit out of Brett. He couldn’t just relax back into the couch and watch TV while Mike spent another night going over numbers and plans. His brother was obsessed with calculating their future down to the very penny. He barely noticed as Brett cut through the kitchen and headed out the back door.

  Brett didn’t bother with either his keys or his wallet but headed off on foot down the shadow-lined streets. There were very few sidewalks in Pittsview and very little traffic to worry over. In fact, not a single vehicle passed Brett as he cut through the large neighborhood that surrounded the city’s south side.

  The sheriff did jog by with a kid keeping pace beside him. Both were wearing flashers and appeared lost in the silence of their run. Alex cast a nod in Brett’s direction, but his steps never faltered, and neither did he break the rhythm of his breathing to call out a greeting.

  That was just fine with Brett. He was lost in his own thoughts. Those thoughts led him directly to where he’d been warned by just about everybody not to go. Twenty minutes after he walked out of his own back door, Brett found himself staring up at Dean’s front door.

  Brett knew he should turn around, but he didn’t. Instead, he walked up the three steps that led to the top of the yard and the path that ended at the arched wooden door. That was when he definitely should have turned around, but he didn’t. Instead, he knocked and waited until Dean appeared, wearing a pair of jeans that had been split up the side to allow room for the cast covering his leg.

  “Oh God,” Dean groaned and banged his head into the side of the door. “Why me?”

  “Don’t panic.” Brett held his hands up in surrender, deeply bothered by the sight of the bruises still marring Dean’s clean-cut features. Then there was the cast that had him leaning slightly on his good leg. “I’m not here to hit you again.”

  That got a snort as Dean looked up toward the heavens in exasperation.

  “I just wanted to…”

  Brett faltered as Dean finally turned his gaze on him. He wanted to know why Dean had offered Angie the deal he had, but Brett didn’t have the audacity to ask that question with the man’s eye still discolored from his beating. There was really only one thing to say.

  “I’m sorry. We shouldn’t have hit you.”

  “No. You shouldn’t have,” Dean agreed with no hint of annoyance. “But apology accepted. Good night.”

  “Wait a minute.” Brett stepped up, smacking a hand against the door Dean tried to close in his face. “Why are you being so bitchy?”

  “Because you beat the shit out of me?” Dean offered that with a lift of his brow. “Now—”

  “Dean?” The sultry call of a woman in heat to the lover she desired echoed out of the hall across the living room and drew Brett’s gaze over Dean’s shoulder.

  The other man groaned, his eyes fluttering shut, even as Brett’s connected with the woman who was wearing next to nothing as she came to a pause in the entrance to the hallway. For a second, both of them froze, the brunette with horror and Brett with shock. In the next breath, she took off down the hall as Brett turned his amazed gaze back on Dean.

  “You’re doing the mayor’s wife? She’s like sixty!”

  That had Dean’s eyes snapping open and his hand swinging out to fist itself in Brett’s shirt. Before Brett could brace himself, Dean yanked him into the living room and slammed the door closed. Despite his broken leg, the other man lorded over him with an intimidating scowl and a fierce look of determination that hadn’t been there two weeks ago when he’d been squaring against both Brett and his brother.

  “You’re a real ass, you know that?” Dean snapped.

  “It was her.” Brett paid little attention to the other man’s insult, as finally some of the pieces started to fall into place. “She was here that night, and that is why you don’t want this to be a big deal.”

  “I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about,” Dean denied and then dared to threaten. “But I suggest you keep your wild speculations to yourself unless you want to end up in the cast.”

  “Those are awfully big words for a man who is actually in the cast,” Brett shot back, feeling less and less guilty about having put Dean into that cast. “I can’t believe you are doing a married woman. That’s low.”

 
; “Please.” Dean snorted. “They’re not doing anything their husbands don’t. Women of any age with something to prove are a whole hell of a lot of fun.”

  Brett blinked, wondering how the hell Dean knew that. However he knew it, one thing was for damn certain. Angie was way too good for this weasel. Brett intended to make sure she knew it, too.

  “Well, I guess that is your business. I should probably leave you to it.”

  Brett tried to brush past Dean but didn’t dare to actually bang into the man, not about to be accused of knocking him over. Dean knew it, too. He shifted his weight, intentionally blocking Brett’s way as he held him up.

  “What you’re about to do now doesn’t matter to Angie, but it will to a whole lot of other people,” Dean warned him, expanding his threat with a pointedness that had Brett bristling. “Being at war with the local government isn’t exactly the best condition to start a business with. So just remember, they are not doing anything their husbands aren’t.”

  The way Dean stressed those two words left no doubt that there were not only more but that their husbands held positions that had the kind of authority nobody in a small town wanted to piss off. Brett didn’t really care. Not as much as he suspected Dean did.

  “But it matters to you.” Brett stepped up to openly challenge Dean’s attempt at intimidation. “Because you’ll be their primary target. So, you know what you are going to do tomorrow?”

  “Free Angie from our agreement?” Dean guessed accurately.

  “You’re a smart man.” Brett complimented him with enough disdain in his tone to make a mockery of his words. “Now step aside.”

  Dean didn’t say a word but eased back, allowing Brett to pass. He headed out the door, not even bothering to look back when it slammed closed behind him. Dean could slam all the doors he wanted. That slime ball wasn’t going to get anywhere near Angie. That was all that mattered.

  What mattered was that tomorrow Angie would be free and this was the last night he had to go to bed alone. That thought turned his attention from Dean to just what he planned to do tomorrow once Angie came home. He didn’t even consider Mike until he pushed open the back door to find his brother just as he’d left him.

  Mike appeared completely oblivious to the fact that Brett had been gone for over an hour. He glanced up as if startled by Brett’s sudden appearance. As always, Mike didn’t take well to being surprised.

  “Where the hell are you coming from? I thought you were watching TV.”

  “I went for a walk,” Brett retorted, shutting the door behind him and turning toward the fridge. He fished out a beer and popped the top as he turned back to his brother, trying for complete indifference. “I actually ended up running into Dean.”

  Mike stilled at that, his gaze narrowing as he tensed. “Yeah. That’s odd.”

  “Not really.” Brett shrugged. “We were at his house.”

  “Brett.”

  “I didn’t hit him.”

  “That doesn’t mean he won’t claim that you did,” Mike shot back.

  “I don’t think so.” Brett smiled. “I kind of caught him in the act with the mayor’s wife.”

  Mike blinked at that, clearly not certain how to take Brett’s comment. Enjoying his brother’s look of disbelief, Brett slid into the seat opposite Mike and regaled him with even more salacious tidbits.

  “And from what I gather, she is one of many.”

  “No!” Mike whispered, his eyes beginning to twinkle with merriment. “The mayor is like seventy. His wife is like sixty.”

  “According to Dean, she’s only gotten better with age.”

  Mike didn’t even seem to hear him but appeared lost in the wonder of the moment. “Wait until Angie finds out.”

  “Mums the word.” Brett shook his head. “Dean’s going to let her out of their deal, but we’ve got to keep our mouths shut. Understand?”

  “I understand.” Mike’s momentary smile faded as he glanced down at his papers. “All my plans…nothing is ready.”

  * * * *

  Dean sat there on the edge of his bed, listening as Mrs. Rebecca Winters rushed about the place. To most people, she was Becky, the warm, sweet wife of the mayor. She was involved with all the right associations, went to all the right functions, and threw parties for the poor. In short, she was the perfect small-town mayor’s wife.

  Unfortunately, she was married to a letch. After Dean had proved that point to her, little, innocent Becky had turned into an angry and outraged Rebecca and fucked Dean’s brains out. The woman might sag here and there, but she was tight, hot, and wet in all the ways that counted.

  Beyond that, she paid well.

  “Here.” Rebecca slapped a thin stack of fifties down onto Dean’s nightstand before turning to offer him a hopeful smile. “Next Monday?”

  “Yeah. That’s cool.” Dean nodded slowly, wondering just why he wasn’t happier.

  Rebecca could have really wigged out about the Brett thing, but instead, he’d stumbled back into the bedroom to find her playing with herself and hungry for dick. She’d fucked him damn near raw, and that was normally a good thing. Not tonight.

  Tonight he just felt wrong.

  “Try not to brood too much, darling.” Rebecca reached a hand out to cup his chin and tilt his face up. “Even if Harvey finds out about what we’re doing, he’s not going to do anything that would risk his political career.”

  Dean offered her a quick smile and nod. After leaning up for the chaste kiss she dropped on his lips, he sat there watching her go, knowing that wasn’t the problem. He didn’t give a shit about Harvey Winters, even if the fat bastard was the mayor. What Dean cared about was Gwen. She was gone now.

  Nobody really cared besides him. The only family that had shown up for the funeral had been her cousin Kristen. She’d looked nervous, sending him curious glances that didn’t hide the speculation in her gaze. Dean knew she was wondering if he’d killed Gwen.

  She wasn’t the only one.

  Chapter 22

  Wednesday, July 15th

  Angie woke up slowly, coming to with a reluctance that weighed on her. She lingered in bed, unwilling to get up as she considered that she had no real reason to. Lana was running things fine without her. The book she was building would make it easy enough for anybody to step in and take over her job, even if finding somebody was going to take a while. So was sorting out how she felt.

  Patton had really forced her to face a truth that Angie had long avoided admitting. She was afraid. Falling in love with Brett and Mike had been easy because they had been a custom-made fantasy. The question now was really whether or not she could love the real men that they were, even if they were flawed.

  Angie so wanted the answer to be yes. The letters and gifts that Mike and Brett had showered her with just went to prove that some things could be better than her dreams. Dean’s bruises were a reminder that they could also be worse. Those thoughts just had her going around and around until she finally rolled out of bed to escape them.

  Feeling as if her limbs weighed a ton, she shuffled into the bathroom, where she took twice as long to get everything done. Even once she was freshly showed, groomed, and dressed, Angie still felt deflated and unable to move any faster than the slow pace she set as she started up the path from the servants’ campus toward the main lodge.

  It was a long walk. That didn’t help. Neither did the cup of coffee she ordered up once she made it to the dining hall. Accustomed to her presence, the men ignored her, allowing Angie to brood over her breakfast as her thoughts continued to churn. They didn’t stop until a shadow fell across her table.

  “Angie?”

  “Dean.”

  Angie looked up to find him staring down at her with eyes that both opened and closed. He was almost back to looking human again. She knew he was definitely back to fucking, cast or no cast.

  “Can I have a seat?” Dean asked, nodding to the chair opposite her, and there was really little Angie could do but agree. After all
, the man was standing there balanced on crutches and one foot because of her.

  “Of course.” Angie gestured politely to the chair, watching as Dean made a show out of settling down. Only once he’d rested his crutches against the side of the table and glanced over in her direction did she finally continue on. “So? What can I do for you?”

  “Actually, it’s what I can do for you that I’m here to talk to you about,” Dean corrected her, but Angie still wasn’t ready for his big revelation. “I’m letting you out of the deal.”

  “What?” She’d specifically told Patton that she didn’t want to have the whole thing called off. That would leave her to have to deal with the Brett and Mike situation too soon. “I don’t—”

  “Brett stopped by last night to apologize.” Dean paused, his eyes lifting for a moment as his lips thinned. “He convinced me to break our deal.”

  “He did?” Angie stiffened at that announcement. “How?”

  She feared she already knew the answer to that question. It was the answer to all her questions, or maybe not. Dean surprised her once again as his gaze dropped back to hers and he smirked.

  “Not in the way you’re thinking. He didn’t threaten me or hurt me,” Dean assured her. “As I said, he apologized.”

  “And you just forgave him?” Angie asked, not believing that story for a moment.

  “Something like that.” Dean studied her for a moment before leaning forward slightly and dropping his voice to a whisper that assured nobody overheard him. “Trust me. I wouldn’t give in to threats or intimidation. Only blackmail.”

  With that confession, Dean reached for his clutches and hefted himself back onto his feet. Once again, he paused to smirk down at her and offer a final suggestion.

  “I’d count myself lucky if I were you. After all, look at the lengths those two idiots are willing to go for you.”

  With that, he took off for the main door, leaving Angie to watch him leave and wonder if he didn’t have a point. Brett and Mike had fought for her, had wooed her, and according to Hailey, they were even getting their shit together for her.