Forget Me Knot

by King, Lori

  “Stop drinking and you’ll stop having to enjoy the Sheriff’s hospitality.”

  Roman shook his head, “Look I didn’t come up here for a lecture. I just wanted to say I’m sorry.”

  “Yeah, me too. I just wish you really knew what you were sorry about.” With that Drannon left his younger brother standing next to the window in his room, and headed downstairs to confront his own issues. Roman had yet to admit that he was fighting addiction, and until he faced his guilt over the past, he’d never win the battle. Unfortunately, there wasn’t much Drannon could do to help him. The more he pushed, the harder Roman resisted, and the bigger playboy he became. Only time would tell if Roman’s guilt would be his downfall.

  The door to the study was open, and a fire had been lit in the fireplace. Making herself at home, Lacy had pulled a small round ottoman over so that she could put her socked feet on it while she worked. She had been immersed in the internet for a little while when the heavy thud of boots coming down the hall grabbed her attention. Her eyes lifted and met a pair of familiar dark brown ones.

  His curly hair was damp, and he wore a button down shirt tucked into fresh blue jeans. He no longer wore the heavy canvas coat and chaps, but he still looked like a perfect cowboy to her. She had to consciously force herself not to lick her lips as she looked him over. The cowboy gave her a wary glance, pausing in the doorway, before he seemed to find his resolve. His shoulders suddenly seemed broader and his chin jutted out with determination. “Miss Denvers, I owe you an apology—”

  Lacy held her hand up to stop him, “No, you don’t. I’m tougher than I look. No cowboy is going to ruffle my feathers with a few compliments.” She smiled at the relief on his face. “You do owe me something, though.”

  His thick black eyebrow rose, “Really? What’s that?”

  “All of that flirting, and you never managed to tell me your name. I think you owe me that after getting me all worked up and walking away.”

  The cowboy’s mouth dropped open just before his nostrils flared and his eyes lit up. “All worked up, huh?” His movements were slow and steady. Like a predator after his prey, he made his way across the room until he stood before her. Her seat on the low slung wingback chair, put her at eye level with that tantalizing bulge under his zipper, and damned if her mouth wasn’t watering.

  She let out a shaky breath and forced her eyes upwards to meet his. They were a rich brown like worn leather, and she wanted to sink into them and let him have her body completely. Never before had she imagined she would fall weak to a man wearing blue jeans and cowboy boots, but the whole image tripped her trigger making her hotter and wetter than she had ever been before.

  “My name is—” he hesitated, before continuing, “Drannon Russo.”

  Her stomach plummeted and ice shot through her veins. “Oh shit. You’re one of the owners.”

  He gave a short nod, but he kept those penetrating eyes locked on hers. They both waited in silence for the other to speak. Lacy wasn’t sure what to say. She was flirting with the ranch owner, not a regular cowboy. This man probably had more money than she had hairs on her head. There was no way she could have a fling with him now.

  Shuffling her laptop she shut it down, and stood up. Their bodies were inches away from each other, and she could feel his body heat singeing the skin of her bare arm. The same arm that had given her an explosive orgasm just a few minutes ago, while she fantasized about him.

  “I, um, I think I’m done now. I better put this away before dinner.” She took a small step sideways, with her laptop under one arm. She started to push her braid back over her shoulder, and he stopped her.

  His hand enveloped the end of her thick red braid, holding it and keeping her from moving away. “Don’t run off Miss Denvers—”

  “Lacy.”

  Their eyes met and held, bringing a small smile to his full lips. Seductive lips that she could imagine running over her skin, and sucking at her nipples. God, this man was delicious. Why did he have to be the ranch owner?

  “I’m sorry I didn’t speak up and tell you who I was. Most of the time, I’m introduced to guests at the dinner table, so they already know who I am before I can even speak with them. It’s rare that I get a chance to meet a sexy woman—and flirt with her—before she knows how much I’m worth. I enjoyed it immensely.”

  Lacy couldn’t stop the side of her mouth from drawing up in a sardonic smile. “I’m glad I could bring you some measure of pleasure today; however, you and I both know that this can’t go any further Mr. Russo.”

  “Drannon.”

  She didn’t respond, and a low growl rattled from his throat. “My name is Drannon to you, Lacy.” She held her ground, with her lips closed, but her heart rate increased when he tugged her by the braid just a few inches closer. She could feel his breath on her cheek, and it smelled like chocolate and mint. “Say my name Lacy, please?”

  Her breath caught in her chest, and she inhaled sharply when his lips ran over the skin of her jaw. Goose bumps popped up all over her body and she sighed with pleasure. “Drannon, please…”

  That seemed to be the magic word. Suddenly her breasts were pressed against his broad chest, and her braid was wrapped around his fist while his lips savaged hers. He pushed his tongue between her lips and stroked it over her own. She moaned into the kiss and reached up to grip the back of his neck. His curly hair tangled in her fingers, and he gasped when she tugged before he returned the gesture with her braid. Her brain went blank as she turned herself over to the sensation.

  Releasing her hair, he gripped her ass in his two massive hands and pulled her even tighter to him, sliding one thick thigh between hers. She couldn’t stop herself from grinding against the hard muscle, her already sensitive clit leading the way as she sought satisfaction.

  They battled for control, nipping, stroking, and suckling at each other’s mouths as if each was starving for the other. Lacy loved the way his big hands held her so easily in his grip refusing to let her move an inch away from where he wanted her. The silent power he wielded made her clench her thighs tighter around his leg as she enjoyed the pressure against her pussy. Higher and higher they both climbed in their desire to touch and taste each other, and just when Lacy had decided to throw caution to the wind and let him fuck her right there on the floor, a voice shattered the veil of passion around them.

  Marilyn was standing in the doorway with her back to them, attempting to get their attention while trying to give them privacy.

  “I’m so sorry, but dinner is on the table, and I would hate for it to get cold. Would you prefer I put it in the oven until uh..well…um…until you’re ready for it?”

  Drannon’s eyes sparkled with amusement, and he quirked that one damn eyebrow at Lacy again, to let her make the decision. She shook her head slightly, and pulled away from him. Marilyn had just rescued her from making a terrible mistake based on lust and not logic. She was grateful and irritated all at once.

  “No need Marilyn, we’ll be in shortly. Thank you.” Drannon spoke softly, and Lacy grew more irritated at the control he seemed to have over his own emotions. The passionate cowboy who was ready to ravage her a moment ago had disappeared in an instant, leaving behind Mr. Calm Cool & Collected in his place. “May I escort you to dinner, Lacy?”

  She frowned at him and glanced to the hallway to be sure Marilyn was gone before speaking. “That was a mistake, but mind you, it won’t happen again Drannon. I’m not here for a wild fling. In two weeks, I’ll be leaving, and I won’t leave my heart behind. Got it?”

  For just a moment, she thought he might argue. She was surprised by how much she wanted him to argue with her. Instead, he gave her a wicked smile that promised he wasn’t giving up that easily, and held his arm out. “You know, riding is a hands on experience. You’ll never learn the joy if you can’t relax and let yourself welcome the wild nature of it.”

  She gave him a glare that was met with loud masculine laughter as he led her in to dinner. In her
heart, she knew she was already ankle deep in a puddle of trouble. Drannon Russo made her weak. His nearness seemed to set her body on fire with a fever that could only be cooled by his touch. How she was going to survive without getting burned was anyone’s guess.

  Drannon’s heart was racing in his chest, and he could probably split wood with the erection in his pants. He’d never held a woman in his arms who made him feel so out of control. His ex-wife had turned him on, but it was in a younger, innocent way. The lustings of a teenager for the girl next door.

  Lacy, however, lit his fuse like a firecracker, and he nearly exploded too quickly. As disappointed as he was to hear that she felt guilty over their hot make-out session, he wasn’t about to let her brush him off that easily. What happened between the two of them was nothing short of epic, and it deserved his full attention.

  The moment they entered the dining room, the hair on the back of his neck rose, and he felt something primal stir in his chest. All of his brothers were already seated and the interest they focused on Lacy was more sexual than his inner caveman could tolerate.

  “Well, hello.” Roman jumped to his feet and stepped closer to Lacy. Too close for Drannon’s comfort. When she accepted Roman’s offered hand, and he pressed his lips to her knuckles, Drannon very nearly growled out loud. “I’m Roman Freemont, but you can call me Romeo.”

  “Nice to meet you. I’m Lacy Denvers.” She giggled, and Drannon touched her waist to gently guide her away from his younger brother. Before he could put much distance between the two, Hawke was at his elbow brushing past him to reach Lacy. He offered his hand, but thankfully, refrained from putting his lips on her.

  “I’m Hawke Kapshaw, and Lacy, you are absolutely beautiful.”

  Leave it to Hawke to be blunt. Lacy gave the blonde man a brilliant smile, and pressed her hand to her upper chest. “Wow, thank you. Um, back at’cha handsome.”

  Before Hawke could take advantage of the compliment, Vin reached over the table and offered up his hand, “And I’m Vin. I might not be as handsome, but I’ve got them all beat in size.” The wink Vin gave her put a clear exclamation mark on his double meaning, and Drannon rolled his eyes.

  Lacy’s eyebrows rose, and she gave him a confused look. “I thought Marilyn said there were no other guests here right now?”

  “Vin’s not a guest,” Drannon explained, “He, and the rest of this pack of wolves are my brothers, and co-owners of the ranch.”

  “Oh, I—” she paused and then looked from one man to the next frowning. “Russo, Kapshaw, Freemont…you’re brothers?”

  “Yes ma’am.” Roman said, snagging her hand once again, this time pulling her away from Drannon. He held her chair as she settled in and then swiped the seat right next to her, leaving Drannon to take the chair at the end of the table on her left. “We’re not blood, obviously, but Abe and Sera Crawley took us all in when we were kids and gave us a home. We more or less adopted each other.”

  Lacy nodded, smiling, “That makes more sense. I was wondering why none of you looked alike.”

  Drannon took a moment to really look at his brothers like he hadn’t in years. Hawke with his shoulder length blonde locks and blue eyes looked Scandinavian next to Vin with his olive complexion and dark blue eyes. Roman’s hair was sandy brown, and it fell in feminine waves to his shoulders. Women couldn’t seem to resist his hazel eyes, and charm, hence his nickname. Of the four, Drannon was the oldest, but he only had a year up on Vin, and considering what Vin had lived through, he figured they were more than equal in experience. Even with all of their physical differences they shared many personality traits born and bred in the foster system cycle and the rebelliousness of young boys. He respected them and took pride in the fact that they looked to him as the patriarch of their family now that Abe was gone.

  “…always wanted to learn how to ride a horse, so I booked the trip never even considering what the weather would be like.” Lacy’s voice interrupted Drannon’s thoughts, and he turned back to catch the threads of conversation.

  “Where are you from originally?” Hawke was asking, leaning forward to scoop food onto his plate as he listened with rapt attention.

  “Chicago is where I’ve lived for the last two decades, but before that I lived wherever my dad’s job took us. I was born in Wichita, Kansas.”

  Drannon couldn’t tear his eyes off Lacy. Her movements were graceful and sleek, and with her long neck and slender build, she reminded him of a gazelle. She’d be beautiful astride a horse with her crimson hair billowing behind her.

  “Hey D! You still with us?” Vin snapped his fingers in front of Drannon’s face, and he startled, frowning.

  “I’m right here, what do you want?” he snapped at his grinning brother.

  “I’ve asked you three times to pass the potatoes, but you were making googly-eyes at Lacy here and must have missed it.” Vin said, winking at their guest again. For a moment, Drannon considered punching the smug look off of Vin’s face, but the pink blush on Lacy’s cheeks and the embarrassed way she fidgeted helped him restrain himself.

  “Here,” he said, shoving the bowl of spuds in Vin’s direction, “I was going over monthly numbers in my head not making googly-eyes.”

  The lie tasted bitter on his tongue, and the look Vin shot him proved it sounded just as sour, but the conversation resumed around him. As usual, Roman made the woman laugh, while Vin made her blush, and Hawke romanced her. Drannon was beginning to think perhaps she’d forgotten he was there, when she suddenly reached for his hand. It was clenched in a fist on the table, but the moment her soft skin brushed over his, he shivered.

  “Are you okay Drannon?” she asked, concern tinting her question.

  Warmth filled him, and he forced his grip to relax so that he could turn his hand and weave their fingers, pressing his palm against hers. “I’m great. So, you were explaining that you booked the trip months ago, but why didn’t you postpone your trip when you realized there was going to be snow?”

  “Snow?” she asked looking down at her plate with a frown before she shrugged. “Honestly, I didn’t bother to check the weather when I packed my bag and headed for the airport. I lost my job right before the holidays, and I’ve been a bit out of sorts since then. I’m trying to build my own business, but it takes a lot of work and more capital than I have available. Right now, I’m waiting to hear back from a big client about a marketing campaign I presented to them. If it tanks…well…I don’t know what I’m going to do.”

  “So, you’re in marketing?” Hawke’s attention was less romantic and more serious now. “Do you, like, plan advertising and tell businesses how to grow?”

  “Sort of, yes. I’m in marketing, but I specialize in graphic design. Logos, advertisements, that kind of thing. It depends on what the business needs. This company needed a whole new branding of their product after a recall last year, so they were more willing to think outside the box. Most companies find a team and stick with them until they aren’t making money anymore. It’s hard to get in with big corporations.” Lacy explained.

  “Do you know how to create a website?” Hawke asked, and Drannon immediately recognized where his brother was going with the conversation.

  “Hawke, no. She’s a guest, that’s all,” he said firmly, shaking his head at his brother.

  “But—”

  Lacy was frowning at him now, “I’m sorry, I don’t understand. Do you need a website for something?” When Hawke hesitated, she prodded him further, “Because the answer is yes, I do know how to create one. Is this for the ranch, or for yourself?”

  Hawke gave Drannon and apologetic smile, and then proceeded to explain their lack of business sense to the only woman who’d lit Drannon’s fires in years. Damn it, now she was going to think he was a stupid cowboy who couldn’t build a business.

  Cursing his luck, Drannon pulled his hand away from Lacy, who barely seemed to notice as she spoke animatedly with Hawke, and now, Vin and Roman were in on the conversation. The f
our of them were excitedly coming up with ideas for some form of advertising campaign that would get the ranch noticed by adventure seekers as well as families.

  “Whoa! Wait a second. We’re not your average vacation destination, guys…” Drannon cleared his throat and corrected himself. “…and Lacy. We’re offering therapeutic stays to veterans with PTSD as well as lodgings for foster children. We can’t just invite everyone in America to come spend a weekend in the midst of that.”

  Lacy frowned, and nodded, “You’re right, that’s not the best environment for a B&B.”

  “A B&B?” he asked.

  “Bed and Breakfast. It’s the term used for a place that’s generally less sophisticated than a five star hotel, but offers a homier, more comfortable atmosphere and usually a great experience. I haven’t seen much of the ranch, but what I have seen has been fantastic. The ad that I saw when I booked my stay said that you guys were a dude ranch, but it feels more like a B&B now that I’m here. I think you have a great opportunity to build up the guest side of the ranch, but not if you’re more focused on the therapeutic side.”

  “Why can’t it be both?” Vin asked shrugging. “I don’t understand why we can’t market it as a B&B for people who need space from the world to get their head on straight. Foster kids, convicts, vets with PTSD, vets who are homeless and trying to get back on their feet.”

  “I’m sorry…convicts?” Lacy asked, looking wary all of a sudden. Drannon’s stomach tightened in a knot.

  “Yeah, but not the seriously violent ones. Just the guys like us that have been through the ringer and need to regroup when they get out.” Vin answered casually.

  Just like that the temperature in the room dropped by twenty degrees as Lacy stiffened in her chair. “Guys like you?” she whispered. For a moment she sat frozen in her seat, but when she stood it was clear by the expression on her face that she was going to run, and Drannon felt sick to his stomach.