“Well, Mase,” Michael said, walking over to his big brother and placing his arm around his shoulders. “How can I explain this to you so you will understand,” he began. “Abby is an Armstrong. To make matters worse, not only does she have our blood running through her veins, she has Rachael’s. That combination is highly volatile and prone to explosive behavior at any time. What you just experienced was the fury that we try so hard to control, mixed in with the terrible twos. You’re lucky you survived.” Michael laughed.
“Well, what do I do with this?” Mason said, holding up the doll he had gotten her.
“You can always sleep with it!” Marcus offered with a smile.
As Mark and Bridget walked down the long corridor, his phone started to ring.“Butthead calling. A butthead is calling.”Ignoring it completely, he tried handing his phone to Bridget as the phone continued to ring.
“Bridget?” he said, waving the phone in her face, “aren’t you going to get that?”
“No.”
“Why?” He smiled.
“It’s him.”
Mark knew that out of all of his brothers, Mitchell was the only one that she couldn’t stand. Mitchell made it his own personal mission in life to aggravate the living crap out of Bridget. He was ruthless about it, too. The more his brother got under her skin, the more she took it out on him. Though he thought it was absolutely funny, he just wished Mitchell hadn’t picked this particular day to call. For the last week, she had been an utter bear to deal with, and frankly, she was getting on his nerves.
“Bridget, tell him I’m not available.”
“You tell him,” she said firmly, shoving the phone back into his hand and walking away. Crap! he thought to himself. Mark leaned against the cold stone wall and hit the power button.
“Chicken!” Bridget shouted at him.
“So are you!” Mark shouted back as he walked into the locker room.
He found his teammates laughing and horsing around. They were eager for the upcoming game, and their adrenaline was running rampant. It didn’t take long for Mark to get caught up in all the excitement and banter, and soon he forgot about his brother, his commitments, everything.
Practice was going as well as to be expected. Everyone was anxious and eager to get the show on the road, everyone, that was, except the coach. For the last three hours, he had made it damn near impossible for Mark to do his job, and he’d had enough.
“I don’t care who owns the damn team, Jimmie. This is ridiculous. We shouldn’t have to play like this.”
“Look, Mark, we are just being precautious. This isn’t a team of little pussies were playing. It’s the Hawks!” he began before Mark interrupted him.
“I know damn well who were playing. I am not Jones!” he shouted and walked off the field.
“Where are you going? We still have practice!”
“I’ll see you tomorrow!”
He had to get away from everyone, especially the idiot owner and his brooding minions before they sucked all the fun out of the game. It was one thing to follow the safety rules of the league, but it was another to stop the team from playing the game as it should be played. He knew it wasn’t only bothering him, but the rest of the team also. The only problem was that he wasn’t too afraid to open his mouth and tell them where to stick it! And that generally got his butt in a lot of trouble, but now they had gone too far.
The owners had gotten together with the coaches and devised a plan to play the game with limited access. They only wanted him to throw the ball. That way he wouldn’t be put in any harm’s way.
Yeah right!
Apparently, they thought if they limited his actions on the field, it would lessen his chances of getting hurt. The only problem with that was that it actually opened him up for anyone who could get their hands on him, and it didn’t take a genius to figure out that if he went along with this harebrained scheme, the Hawks would figure it out, and soon they would be prepared.
“They’re not looking for a win. They’re looking for a way to get through the game without anyone getting hurt!” he said to himself as he removed his shirt. He had to get out of this place. It was suffocating him.
The fresh, cool air hit his face, and Mark tried to relax, but it wasn’t working. He needed total peace and quiet. He needed to think, and doing that in one of the world’s busiest cities wasn’t going to work. He hailed a cab and had the driver take him to the nearest car rental place.
He needed to drive.
Chapter 5
“Son of a bitch!” Mark cursed himself. “I knew I should have brought a damn map,” he said, standing around in the thick forest, lost.
“This is just perfect,” he said, trying to get a signal on his cell phone. “Shit!” he cursed once more and stormed off, looking for the path that would lead him back to his rental car.
This was a complete nightmare.
He knew Bridget would be furious when she got her hands on him, not to mention the players and the coach. He just had to quickly find his way out of this mess and get his butt back to London. The problem was that he had no clue where in the hell he was at. He had just rented a car and driven. After a couple of hours fuming over the team’s decision, he realized that he might have made a wrong turn, not to mention he kept forgetting to drive on the other side of the road.
Walking for more than an hour, he knew the sun would start to set soon. Generally not a man to worry, he was beginning to get a little miffed at the prospect of having to spend the night out here, roughing it. He hated that more than getting lost. He hated sleeping outdoors. He never could get used to all the noise of Mother Nature and the feeling that millions of tiny bugs were crawling all around him.
He kept walking, hoping that he hadn’t got himself turned around again, when he came up upon a stream. “Oh thank God, water.” He walked over to the stream and helped himself to a drink. Rinsing off his hands and face, he sighed at the feel of the cool water.
Looking around, he was amazed at the beauty of this little hideaway and felt that little twinge of dread plague him once again. “Knock it off, Armstrong. Get a grip. It’s just a game,” he said, standing and admiring the meadow’s beauty. He walked around to survey the whole place when he came upon her.
Sleeping on the soft, mossy ground lay the most exquisite woman he had ever seen. She couldn’t be more than five six, with the longest and most slender legs he had ever seen. Her delicate hands and the body of…oh hell, she has a rockin’ hard body. There lay a creature that men could only dream about. She was proof positive that God was playing some horrible trick on him for all the times he had just used and discarded women like they were some tissue that was no longer useful.
Then she moved.
Mark’s heart literally stopped. His breathing ceased.
She was real.
Holy crap! he thought and looked to the heavens and thought, God, I don’t know what I did to deserve this, but thanks a million. I owe you one.
Sarah had the funny feeling that she was no longer alone. Slowly opening her eyes, she saw him staring at her. Sitting up on her elbows, she smiled. “Hello.”
He just stood there like a deaf, blind mute.
Sarah thought for sure that they taught Englishmen to speak, and she was curious why he just stood there ignoring her. So she said it again. “Hello.”
Mark was speechless. For the first time in his life, he couldn’t think of anything to say. No cute remark, no snappy comeback, not even a simple “hi.” She just laid there staring up at him with those magnetic sapphire-blue eyes, and when she smiled his heart did the funniest flip-flops. Shaking off the feeling and getting his wits about himself, he uttered, “Good afternoon.”
“Well, I was wondering if you could speak.” She giggled, getting up and dusting off her backside to stand.
She’s an American!
What the hell is she doing all the way out here? he wondered. “Oh yes, I can speak rather well. I was taught well in those little buildings. You know, th
ey’re called schools. I just wasn’t expectin’ to find anyone out here,” he replied sarcastically and immediately regretted it. Why can’t you think before you speak! he quickly thought as she looked at him.
“You’re not English. I hear a trace of a southern accent. Where are you from, cowboy?”
“Actually, I am from Wyoming.”
“Really, you could have fooled me. I thought northerners had a little bit more manners than that,” she said snappily as she started to walk away.
What the hell! Mark thought to himself.Who in the hell does she think she is? Doesn’t she know who I am? Hey! Where in the hell is she going?
“Hey, wait up,” he said, running after her.
Sarah stopped and turned around to face him. “Yes.”
“I kind of got myself turned around out here. Can you point me toward Kiln Kildare?”
“You mean, you are lost and you can’t find our way back, right?”
“I am not lost.”
Sarah smiled and started walking again.
“I’m not lost!” he shouted, watching her leave him there, stranded.
“Then you should have no problem of finding your way back!” she yelled as she left the meadow.
“Now wait just a damn minute. Where are you going?” he shouted, following her.
“Home,” she simply replied.
“And just where might that be?”
“Over the next couple of hills,” she replied with a grin on her face. Something told Sarah he wasn’t the outdoorsy type. The thought of walking any distance would literally scare the crap out of him.
“Over the next couple of hills! You walked all this way?” he stood flabbergasted.
“Yep.”
“Do you have a phone I can use?” he asked politely.
“Nope.”
“A cell phone?” he wondered.
“Nope.”
“A map?” he hoped.
“Nope.”
“A computer?” he prayed.
“Nope.” She smiled. Mark couldn’t believe this. Who was this woman, Jeremiah Johnson’s wife! He tried to control his rising temper and asked, “Just how in the hell you communicate with people then?”
“You know, it’s funny. I pick up a pen and I just start writing on this white thing called paper!” she said with a little too much sarcasm.
“Cute, real cute.”
“I thought so.”
“Just exactly how far am I from the nearest town?” he said, catching up with her.
“About a mile or two in that direction,” she said, pointing southeast.
“That’s just great,” he commented with a little too much scorn.
“Going to miss some hot date, cowboy?” she asked sarcastically.
“No, thank God,” he said with a little too much zeal and immediately regretted it.
“And here I thought for sure you had some hot young filly waiting on bended ear to hear that pleasant tongue of yours.”
“Look, lady, I don’t know you from beans. I am lost, okay! There, I said it. I am lost. I am just asking for a little help. Can you manage that without all the cynicism and crap?” he said, finally snapping. Within the short few minutes they were together, she had managed to stun him, start his juices flowing, get under his skin, and piss him off. That had to be a record, he thought.
“Such a big word, cynicism. Do you even know what it means?” she said, laughing. Sarah couldn’t help herself. He looked so angry, that his head was about to pop. Although he was lost, hungry, thirsty, and maybe a little scared, there was just something about him, that made her feel he needed taken down a notch or two before she gave in and helped him.
His last thread snapped.
Mark grabbed a hold of her arm and flung her around until she was chest to chest with him. Holding tightly to her arms, he looked down into her eyes, and even though he wanted to spew profanity at her, his eyes lit up with excitement. “Are you going to help me or not?”
He just stood there glaring at her. His heart began to race as he could feel the warmth of her body radiating against his. She was soft and firm, and damn it all, she smelled like heaven. She fit him perfectly, and before he could stop it, his body began to react to her.
Sarah looked at him. He was a mass of a man. She figured he was about six two, and with his golden-blonde hair and sea-blue eyes, he was a definitely one handsome cowboy, and dear God he was radiating testosterone. He was an absolute perfect specimen of what a man’s man should be.
The only thing she could figure out that could be wrong with him was that mouth of his. He sure could dish out the bullshit, but when it was turned on him, he acted like a small child. Well, one thing was for damn sure. She had met many of men like him, and she knew just how to treat them, like the children they were.
“I will help. Now please let me go,” she whispered firmly.
“Thank you, and before you say something you shouldn’t, I should let you know that I don’t say that very often. So count your blessings. You are one of exactly three people I have ever said that to. So where is this house of yours? It’s going to rain.”
“Right over there,” she said, turning around and pointing to the small cottage off in the distance. As she started to walk toward the house, Mark just stood there.
“So why are you so far away from home, cowboy?”
“Work.”
Sarah stopped when she realized he wasn’t following her, and she turned. “What work might that be?” she asked.
Mark just stared at the little cottage. “I play for the Texas Rebels,” he answered proudly as he moved toward her.
“Sorry, never heard of them, baseball?”
“Football.” Mark couldn’t believe it. Everyone knew of the Texas Rebels. They were plastered all over the television and every magazine fromSports IllustratedtoUs Weekly. How in the hell had she not heard of them? He was a freakin’ star!
“Well, that explains a lot.” She smiled and continued walking.
“Just what do you mean by that?”
“No offense, but it is my understanding it doesn’t take the brightest bulb in the pack to play a game that was meant for children.”
Mark just closed his eyes and took a deep breath.
I take everything back, God. I knew you would never put something so beautiful in front of me without having your fun first. You’re punishing me, right?he thought to himself. “I’ll have you know that I am a graduate from Notre Dame University.”
“Physical education?”
“Ha-ha, very funny, history major. Thank you very much.”
“Well, move your butt, Professor. The rain has started,” she said, taking off running toward the warmth of her home. The rain pelted them as they both ran across the hills toward the cottage. What looked like a simple, short distance took over ten minutes, and by the time they reached the cottage, they were both drenched.
The cottage was small but completely adequate. With a simple living room with a large fireplace and a small kitchen off to the side, it had all the modern conveniences. A curtain hung over an archway that shielded the only bedroom in the home. Bookshelves lined the walls along and around the hearth, with pictures of her travels all around.
He watched her walk over to one of the few cupboards in the kitchen and pull out two large mugs. Lighting the pilot on the stove, she set a kettle on it. Walking away from him, she entered her room and emerged moments later with fresh, dry towels and handed him one. She started to add logs to the hearth when Mark said, “Here, let me do that.”
Sarah didn’t know why she said it. She just couldn’t stop herself. “Are you sure you know how?” This man had gotten under her skin in less time than it took a mosquito to find a new blood source. What was it about him that made her act this way? She had never been so rude to anyone in her life, but there was something about this man that just got under her skin.
“Son of a bitch! Now I know why you live alone out in the middle of nowhere.”
/> “And just what do you mean by that?” she snapped with her hands on her hips.
“Look, lady, we can stand here and argue, or you can move your ass and let me properly start that fire.”
“Fine, have at it!” she shouted. “I will go see if I can find you something dry to wear,” she said, walking to her room, fuming. “Doubt it, though. Nothing will fit that big ego of yours,” she commented as she pulled the cord, releasing the curtain behind her. As Mark started the fire, he stood warming himself and prayed, God if you can get me through this without strangling this woman, I would greatly appreciate it.
Turning around, he saw her.
There behind the curtain, she started to undress. It was like something out of a movie, like where they have those screens where the women are silhouetted behind. It was extremely erotic. Captivated by the curvaceous body on the other side, Mark stared. As she removed her thick sweater, he saw the outline of her sensuous torso, from the slender waist to the fullness of her breasts. Slowly removing her wet jeans, he noticed she had a little sway to her hips as she pulled down the wet pants. Mark about exploded right there as he thought about wrapping those long, firm legs around him. She was absolutely beautiful. He just stood there watching in a daze, but when she let her hair down, Mark had to grab the back of one of her chairs to support his legs. There, standing behind the curtain, stood the most exquisite woman. She allowed her hair to tumble down to her back, and Mark sucked in his breath and slowly licked his lips. If ever there was a perfect striptease, he had the wonderful pleasure of watching it firsthand. The way she moved behind that curtain had him panting and aching to grab his crotch for relief.
“Hey, cowboy!” she yelled, but it was the whistling of the kettle that brought him back to reality. “Can you get that? I am almost done,” she spoke.
“Yeah, sure,” he uttered, afraid to move for fear that she would vanish.
“So, you never did tell me what you were doing all the way out here. I generally don’t see a lot of people this far out from Edinburgh.”
“Oh, I was just out looking around. Thought I would get out of the city for a while,” he lied.
The Texas Rebel [The Armstrong Brothers of Cedar Creek 2] (Siren Publishing Classic) Page 5
