Cowboy Edition EBook

by Maree, Kay

  I dismounted before I could think, then reached up for her. Lou fell into my arms after unhooking her feet from the stirrups, and as soon as her feet hit the ground, I cupped her face in my palms.

  “I decide who is and isn’t good enough for me, darlin’, and from where I’m standing, you’ve raised the bar to a new high.”

  A crinkle appeared on her forehead as her lips trembled.

  “Can I kiss you, Lou?”

  Her eyes flicked to mine again and filled with something other than sorrow. With a subtle nod, she stepped a fraction closer. Slowly lowering my mouth toward hers, I watched her reactions closely, then gave over to the pull between us when her eyelids fluttered closed. Her heart-shaped lips parted then latched on to my upper lip as soon our connection was made.

  The movement of her mouth against mine heated my blood on impact. Her soft lips worked in sync with mine and when I tilted her head to deepen our kiss, she spurred me on with the first swipe of her tongue.

  The horses shifted around us as I became lost in Louisiana’s taste; so much sweeter than I imagined it to be, thanks to her berry lip gloss. My hands traveled from the back of her neck down to her ass, then rose to her waist. I wanted to touch all of her at the same time, yet wanted to savor the experience. Like unwrapping the most anticipated gift under the Christmas tree, I was torn between ruthless impatience and prolonging the unwrapping for as long as sanely possible.

  Louisiana’s soft hums of pleasure spoke directly to my dick, and there was no point attempting to hide what she did to me. My knees weakened when she pressed her body harder against mine, and I couldn’t hold back the groan of need that had me kissing her with a frantic desire.

  So sweet, so warm, so goddamn delectable that I could already feel an addiction forming. The further she molded herself to my chest and the more urgent our kiss became, a raw and untamed need began to rise until I was completely lost in her taste and curves.

  My hands followed each dip and hollow from her hips to her face. I could barely breathe, yet felt I would never need oxygen again.

  The moment she shoved off my Stetson and roughly wove her fingers through my hair, I knew we had to stop before I took her on the side of the track. Lord I wanted to, I truly fucking did.

  “Christ almighty, darlin’,” I panted before meeting her open mouth again.

  When her hand slid between us and passed over my erection, I grunted and ground back, driven blind and wild by everything about her.

  Before completely throwing caution to the wind, I smoothed my hands to her shoulders, then gently and with agonizing reluctance, put the barest amount of space between us.

  “Where’d you learn to kiss like that?” I puffed as my heart pounded a mile a minute.

  Louisiana was equally as breathless, and it took her a few inhales before she found her voice. “Jail.”

  A wicked little smirk and glint entered her clear blue eyes that had me snarling. “Get your ass back on the horse, Louisiana, you little temptress.”

  She threw her head back and laughed. The bliss-filled notes lifted on the breeze, circulated amongst the leaves on the nearby trees before dancing along my heartstrings.

  I hoisted her up with a firm hand on her ass, then gave her thigh a little slap once she was happily settled on Dottie’s back.

  Effortlessly boosting myself into Red’s saddle, I casually draped the reins across my thigh and grinned over at Lou. “Want to race back?”

  She bit her reddened lips, then surprised the hell out of me. “Not race, but maybe we can trot?”

  My soul smiled as wide as my face. “That’a girl.”

  Another step forward after a backpedal and a rather sexy half-pace to the side, I was closer to falling for her than I had ever been.

  Louisiana

  The next weekend, we pulled to a stop in the massive yard on a neighboring ranch and I took a massive breath. Despite the pretty dress, freshly shaved legs, and practically breaking my back to braid my hair, I still felt as if I didn’t belong here.

  Brandon’s calm presence brought peace when it was just him and I, but I was about to enter a den where the lions would circle. I’d overheard the whispered gossip and poorly disguised sniggers while Rory and I were in town. As much as I didn’t give a stuff what they thought they knew about me, I was terrified. While fidgeting with the hem of my dress to pull it lower, Brandon gently snagged my hand and laced our fingers together.

  “Relax, darlin’. Rory’s already here, and Wyatt will be soon.” He gestured to the shiny black truck we’d parked next to.

  “Wow that’s flash,” I murmured and admired Rory’s ride.

  Brandon scoffed. “It’s her pride and joy. She’s rough as hell with everyone else’s vehicle, but when it comes to her own, she drives it like a ninety-year-old.”

  I laughed. “Terribly?”

  His laughter rose with mine. “No, Lou. Carefully.” He slapped the wheel of his older truck. “Love my old girl here and I won’t be tradin’ her anytime soon. Besides, no point in ownin’ a new truck when I use it around the ranch.”

  “So, what you’re saying is that you’re just as precious about your belongings as Rory is,” I teased.

  Brandon pursed his lips and glared at me. “I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that.”

  His lip twitched as I tried my darnedest to hold in my laughter, and his lop-sided smile grew when he leaned across to tweak my knee. It was the key to unlock my laughter, and I squealed when he did it a second time. The uneven rhythm of my heartbeat skipped and danced further in response to Brandon’s deep, rolling chuckle.

  “I like that sound. Do it again for me, Louisiana.”

  I playfully screamed and laughed while batting his hands away. “Fuck off.” The last thing I wanted was to look like we’d had a good romp in the hay before walking into the party.

  After a couple more teasing snips of his fingers against my bare legs, he sat back in the driver’s seat and caught his breath. The hazel of his eyes seemed brighter and more electric as they skipped over my face, then dropped to my exposed thighs. My wriggling had pushed my dress higher, and my face heated as I tugged the hem back down to modest levels.

  “Do I look okay?” I whispered. Brandon looking me over like a starved man made me self-conscious.

  His eyes locked on mine. “Damn beautiful.”

  The sincerity of his tone snagged in my throat. Ever since our kiss last weekend, we had been dancing on eggshells and tip-toeing around the very obvious attraction that burned between us. Brandon hadn't so much as set his hands on me since unless it was to show me how to hold something or boost me onto Dottie before I got the hang of it myself.

  I craved his touch. It seared through my veins and lit every molecule of my body, leaving me breathless like never before.

  “You gotta stop lookin’ at me like that, darlin’,” Brandon drawled from next to me.

  I blinked a couple of times. “Like what?”

  He leaned close and ran the back of his forefinger along my jawline. “Like you want me to kiss the hell out of you again.”

  Heat gathered between my legs as well as on my cheeks. Tonight would test our resolve to the utmost limits. The simmering desires between us were close to the surface, and it wouldn’t take much to bump us into the forbidden territory we had been edging closer to.

  I wanted him, plain and simple. Yet it wasn’t. And he wanted me. That much we both knew. But there was no way of telling who would be the first to crack.

  One good thing about being in the parolee program was that drinking would breach the contract I signed. There would be no drunken demands of fucking me falling from my lips tonight. Yes, simply having sex with the 'boss' would be a contractual breach, yet stupidly, thanks to the sexual tension crackling between Brandon and me, I was tempted to play with fire to see how fevered it would burn.

  I didn’t say anything in response to Brandon’s hoarsely breathed words. My eyes
did, however, lock onto his lips and flare when his tongue darted across the lower one.

  “And what if I did?” I challenged, because hell yes, I wanted him to kiss me; softly before the hunger in his movements took over, just like last time. Effortlessly coaxing a response, a craving I couldn’t ignore.

  Brandon’s expression grew stormy. “Not where I can’t kiss you properly. Stay here,” he said and shoved out of his door, leaving me staring at the empty space he couldn’t get out of fast enough.

  Huffing a slight laugh, I spun when the passenger door jerked open. Brandon made a show of bowing and extending his hand. The frown pulling my carefully penciled brows immediately eased into a smile I felt resonating in my soul.

  Whoever said chivalry was dead? It looked so damn sexy on Brandon.

  “Thank you,” I said as I swung my legs onto the step of the truck before jumping onto the grass. Despite landing steadily, Brandon kept my hand in his.

  “You look real pretty in that dress, Lou,” he drawled while his eyes skipped from my head to toe.

  My own gaze danced to its own song; the contour of his body. “Thanks. You scrub up pretty well yourself.”

  And he did; clean jeans that hugged his hips and tapered perfectly down his legs. Dark gray collared shirt with the sleeves rolled to the elbows. Tonight he’d also switched out his worn Stetson for freshly shampooed and styled hair.

  Brandon cleared his throat then led me toward the barn where music already flowed from the open doors. Nerves tightened my chest and made it hard to breathe. Brandon must have felt my pace slow because he gave me a hand squeeze and a reassuring smile.

  I was different around him. Calmer. Not on edge or looking over my shoulder. I had become hardened in jail, but as soon as I’d arrived at the ranch, I felt that side of me immediately begin to slip away and give way to the old me.

  Above everything else, I simply wanted to be a momma again. I yearned to feel my son's hand in mine, to sprinkle kisses on his cute little nose. I missed his smell, his voice, his happy singing that brought rays of sunshine on my darkest of moods.

  "I got you, darlin'." Brandon's smooth voice and a soft squeeze of his hand brought me back to the present. Ignoring all others in the barn, he steered us in a specific direction.

  I spotted Rory as my eyes scanned the clusters of groups standing around with drinks in hand, laughing and talking joyously amongst themselves. She was talking with an older couple, and three sets of eyes locked onto me when we came to a stop before them.

  Brandon introduced before anyone got a word in. “Mom, Pop, this is Louisiana. Louisiana, these are my parents, Jack and Deirdre.”

  Jack extended his hand in a firm handshake. “Nice to meet you, girly. I trust my son here has been treatin’ you well?”

  “He has, thank you.” My attention turned to Deirdre as she opened her arms and stepped forward. “Rory has told us all about you. It’s nice to finally meet you in person, Louisiana.”

  I stiffened. I couldn’t help myself. I was waiting for the backhanded comment; the disapproval. The judgment.

  Much to my surprise, it didn’t come. Flicking my eyes to Rory, she just smiled and shrugged like it was no biggy. Surely she or Brandon would have told them about why I was here.

  Jack solved the mystery almost immediately. "Brandon runs a tight ship over there and needs to. He's had some real-life hardened men pass through those ranch gates, and hats off to him. The first woman, though…" Jack whistled and looked me dead in the eye. "...now that's a new kettle of fish.”

  “Enough shop talk, Pop,” Brandon interrupted. “We’re here for a night off and that includes probing for details. Oh look, here come Allen and Irene. Louisiana, these are Wyatt’s parents,” Brandon explained when they arrived.

  Irene seemed frosty, and it didn’t escape my attention that Rory made a quick getaway. While Allen’s expression was friendly enough, Irene made me bristle by the way she looked me over with blatant scorn. And the first judgment award tonight goes to Wyatt's mom.

  Thankfully, Brandon ushered me away for a drink before an interrogation could commence. I felt like I was on trial all over again and the jury had already decided that I was guilty based on gossiped whispers.

  “Your parents seem lovely,” I said quietly as we wove through the party-goers.

  Brandon laughed. "Ignore my pop. He's old school and doesn't hesitate to voice his opinion. However, he doesn't let preconceptions cloud his judgment."

  I saw where Brandon got that trait from. Admiration rose in my chest to know that his father had taught him valuable life lessons through his own values.

  “How about Wyatt’s mom though?”

  Brandon caught my grimace and groaned. “Now she’s got an opinion about everything and it’s usually not worth listenin’ to.”

  “What’s up with her and Rory?”

  His hand slid onto my lower back when we came to a stop at the drinks table. “She’s always had an issue with Rory. A few years back she accused Rory of sleeping around then trying to seduce Wyatt.”

  I burst out laughing. “I’m sure Wyatt can stand up for himself without his mom meddling.”

  “He ranted about it for a solid month,” Brandon drawled through a wry grin. “Rory won’t give her the time of day now,”

  I accepted a can of pop and took a sip. The bubbles fizzed over my tongue as I looked around the sea of strangers. Just as I settled into having Brandon’s touch graze over my lower back, I saw a woman heading our way with her sights firmly locked on Brandon. He stiffened when I assumed he saw her and then hissed a curse under his breath.

  Ohh yeah, we were heading for a showdown.

  Louisiana

  “Hi, Brandon.” The cute red-head smiled before narrowing a chilly glare on me. “And you must be the woman from prison?”

  I scoffed. As if that defined me. Brandon cut in before I chose a retort, and his voice held an edge of warning yet not sharp enough to convey anger.

  “Jolene, this is Louisiana. Louisiana, Jolene.”

  I instantly recognized her name and looked at Brandon for confirmation, which he gave me with a quick head dip. So this was the woman he hid from at the last dance? Interesting.

  Jolene’s curious gaze ran over me. “You don’t look much like you’ve done time.”

  I shrugged, both a little uncomfortable, and a bit pissed from the way she spoke without thinking.

  “Looks can be deceiving,” I deadpanned.

  “They sure can,” she said with another pointed look over the new dress Brandon had bought me.

  The scorn in her eyes made my defenses come to life. I shouldn’t have to justify myself to anyone, no less a stranger. Yet here I was, about to do just that. An explanation was on the tip of my tongue, but it soured the longer Jolene glared over me. Fuck that—this piece of work wasn't getting the best of me, so I created a lie on the spot to fuck with her.

  “You’re right, you know, about the ‘deceiving’ thing.” I air-quoted. “I mean, I have been jailed for the abuse, rape, and murder of four men.”

  Her mouth fell, and she spluttered as her wide eyes pinged to Brandon. Shit, I hoped I could keep a straight face; the pure shock on Brandon’s almost had me cracking.

  Now that I had Jolene in the grips of morbid fascination, I decided to really have some fun.

  “The hardest part wasn’t killing them after I’d kept them tied up for days on end; it was keeping them drugged enough to keep them subdued, but their dick still functioning.”

  “Are you serious?” she breathed.

  “Deadly,” I bit.

  Jolene gasped and shifted further away from me. “All at once?”

  I clicked my tongue. “Oh no, of course not all at once—two at a time, obviously.”

  “How on earth?”

  Locking down a laugh before it rose, I leaned toward her and smirked. “You mean catch them? That was the easiest part. Just buy them a beer.”
I casually gestured to Brandon’s bottle nestled perfectly within his grasp.

  Horror widened her eyes and Jolene spluttered for words.

  It was too damn easy. In the back of my mind, I wondered how long it would take for the rumor to circulate after our conversation ended. My bet was immediately.

  "Should you be drinking that, Brandon?" Jolene asked, eyeing his beer as if it was laced with a sedative. I let her keep those suspicions—maybe it would keep her away from us for the rest of the night.

  Brandon lifted the bottle and held her gaze as he took a long sip. He shrugged. “Tastes good to me.”

  Jolene’s eyes couldn’t get rounder if she tried. Unable to hold back my sordid amusement, I let out a snigger that sounded evil even to my own ears. It had the intended effect though; Jolene lifted her chin and sniffed, then turned on her heel without a further word.

  I watched her stride across the barn and join a small huddle of women who all leaned close in anticipation to hear all about what the felon was like.

  Brandon wove his arm around my waist and tugged me close to the side of his body. “You sadistic little minx,” he half-growled, half-laughed against my ear. “I’m almost a little wary of you again.”

  I grinned as I looked up into his twinkling eyes. “Was it believable?”

  “Not for me, but Christ, Jolene couldn’t get away fast enough.” His laughter was the most unrestrained I’d ever heard, and my heart stumbled in response to the smooth, deep tempo.

  “Oh, Wyatt’s just arrived,” Brandon declared and grabbed my hand.

  The trail he blazed in Wyatt’s direction wasn’t rushed; he seemed to savor each opportunity we got to touch as much as I did.

  Reluctantly, our hands separated when we reached Wyatt.

  “Hey guys,” he beamed. “Not drinking tonight, Louisiana?”

  “Nah, apparently I’m becoming good at adhering to the rules.”

  Brandon snorted as Wyatt cracked out a booming laugh. His brown eyes held a hint of recklessness in anticipation of a great night out.

  “I’ll grab you a drink while you two catch up,” I offered to Wyatt.