by Lori Foster
It’ll take a wild storm for the princess of Buckhorn, Kentucky, to catch the new sheriff’s eye—and heart—in this scorching new Buckhorn novella...
Kady Kasper’s sights have been set on Tucker Turley for far too long—and she’s tired of waiting for Buckhorn’s handsome sheriff to notice her. When a heavy storm brings them together, it’s about time to test the waters and see if the intense attraction she feels goes both ways. Because if it does, he’s about to learn how stubborn she can be…
Of all the things Tucker expected to deal with when the rain started to pour, a litter of stranded puppies and spitfire Kady, who’s determined to seduce him, sure didn’t make the list. Yet there he is, bachelor pad overflowing with furballs and Kady in his bedroom. He’s wanted her for years, but given her family’s prestige, he needs to know that she’s serious before he makes any further moves…but will his caution cost him everything?
Don’t miss the other titles in the Buckhorn Brothers series, including Buckhorn Beginnings, Forever Buckhorn, The Buckhorn Legacy, “Buckhorn Ever After” in the All For You anthology, Back to Buckhorn, A Buckhorn Summer, A Buckhorn Bachelor and A Buckhorn Baby.
TUCKER
Lori Foster
Dear Reader,
Welcome back to Buckhorn!
Though I know an actual Buckhorn exists, mine is an entirely fictional town in beautiful Kentucky. My first Buckhorn story was published back in 2000 and the series has become a true reader favorite. For me it seemed a natural fit to combine my need to help stray cats and dogs with continuing the series about a new generation of the leading family in Buckhorn.
Through a special contract with my publisher, the advance and all royalties on this story will go directly to the Animal Adoption Foundation, a local no-kill animal shelter that does an amazing job healing, protecting and loving cats and dogs until a “forever home” can be found for them.
I hope you enjoy the story, and I especially hope you enjoy knowing that by purchasing this story, you’ve helped a dog or cat in need.
To see other “benefit books,” visit www.lorifoster.com/benefit-books.
And to see other books in the Buckhorn series, visit www.lorifoster.com/connected-books/#buckhorn.
From the bottom of my heart, thank you!
Lori Foster
Dedication
To the Animal Adoption Foundation, with gratitude for all you do to help animals in need.
Thank you for letting me contribute in this small way.
Readers, in case you didn’t realize, proceeds from this book go directly to www.aafpets.org.
If you’ve purchased it, you, too, are helping.
The animals and I thank you.
About the Author
Lori Foster is a New York Times, USA TODAY and Publishers Weekly bestselling author with books from a variety of publishers, including Berkley/Jove, Kensington, St. Martin’s, Harlequin and Silhouette. Lori has been a recipient of the prestigious RT Book Reviews Career Achievement Award for Series Romantic Fantasy and for Contemporary Romance. For more about Lori, visit her website at www.lorifoster.com.
Contents
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER ONE
TUCKER PUT HIS shoulder to the muddy gate of the ancient truck and shoved hard. At the same time, the farmer hit the gas. The tires spun, spraying mud over Tucker’s legs and lap, splattering up his chest and even into his face.
He could think of a hundred ways he’d rather spend his evening. Sex would top the list, but then he’d been so long without, it was no wonder that particular activity seemed glued to the forefront of his brain.
He knew why it had been so long, but hopefully no one else suspected.
Finally, finally, the truck rocked free and gained traction. It lumbered awkwardly back onto the road.
Turning his face up to the pounding storm, Tucker let the rain wash away some of the mess. The turbulent weather was more intense—and dangerous—than usual for the area. He had a feeling it would cause more problems before it blew over.
There were times when being the sheriff of a small town was a major pain in his ass.
When the driver’s door of the truck opened, Tucker quickly stepped forward. “No, don’t get out, Harmon. No reason for us both to be soaked.”
Harmon, who was at least eighty-five, frail of body but sharp of mind, gazed at him with gratitude. “Thank ye, Sheriff. I’da been stuck there all night if it weren’t for you.”
A terrible thought.
Meaning it, Tucker said, “I’m glad I came by when I did. Now get home safe, okay? The storms don’t seem to be letting up anytime soon.”
Nodding, Harmon replied, “You too.” He pulled his door shut with a clatter and slowly, oh so slowly, drove away.
Tucker headed for his SUV, wondering if he should strip before getting in so he wouldn’t get mud on the seats. The town supplied the car for both official and personal use, and he kept it shining out of respect for the office. Luckily, he’d been off duty when he spotted Harmon, so at least he hadn’t ruined his uniform.
His shirt, jeans, boots and socks—hell, probably even his underwear—were muddy.
He was debating how much he’d have to take off to protect the car’s interior when headlights came around the corner. It took him a second to recognize the local news van.
Just what he didn’t need. Temptation.
Groaning, he crossed his arms and stood in the headlights of his SUV, just off the edge of the road.
The van slowed, rolling to a stop next to him, and none other than Kady Kasper herself rolled down the driver’s window. Though it looked as if she’d made an attempt to dry off, rain still plastered her pale blond hair to her head and smudged her makeup.
Her sunny smile belied her bedraggled state, which was no doubt thanks to the miserable weather. “Tucker, what are you doing standing around in the rain?”
Incredulous, he peered into the front of the van but didn’t see Cleets, her videographer. He looked toward the back interior and saw only equipment.
Un-freaking-believable. Keeping his tone level, he asked, “Are you out alone?”
One slender brow rose as her pale blue eyes widened. “Did I miss a curfew, Sheriff?”
Her whisky-smooth voice made his hackles rise. Only Kady. No one else got under his skin like she did. No one else turned him inside out. Hell, he was known for his calm manner.
Around her, he had to constantly fight for control.
He gave himself a few seconds, then replied evenly, “It’s nearing midnight.” Surely she shouldn’t be out and about alone.
Humor lifted the corners of her soft pink lips. “It’s ten thirty, actually.” She tipped her head. “Past your bedtime?”
A scowl got the better of him.
This woman, this one small female, had proven to be the bane of his existence. At twenty-five, she was six years younger than him. A walking temptation, a natural flirt and the most beautiful thing he’d ever laid eyes on.
How could he want any other woman when Kady Kasper existed?
Except...he didn’t dare.
For one thing, she was related to the most prominent, respected family in the area. Her father and three uncles were pillars of the community, known to everyone, respected by all. Anything that happened in or around Buckhorn, Kentucky, the brothers knew about it, probably had a hand in it, or had orchestrated it themselves. They claimed ownership of the area and the residents, and felt responsible for t
hem all.
But when it came to family, they were tighter than tight. Getting involved with one meant getting involved with them all.
Kady was Gabe Kasper’s eldest daughter. Though the youngest of the infamous Buckhorn brothers had been a dedicated husband and father for longer than Tucker had known him, rumor had it he’d been a real player in his youth. Clearly, karma was a bitch because his daughters were not only knockouts in the looks department, but also grade-A flirts.
Hitting on Kady would mean drawing scrutiny from that powerful family—and there were a hell of a lot of them, starting with the four brothers and their wives, then the numerous siblings, cousins and in-laws.
But he liked her family. That wouldn’t hold him back if it wasn’t for the second thing: Kady teased every man, young and old, who came within shouting distance. Flirting seemed a natural part of her persona. Even the way she commented on the damn weather had every man with a heartbeat thinking in innuendos.
It was wet.
It was hot.
Steamy, humid, damp...
When it came from her, it all sounded sexual. Add in the way she looked at a man, every man, and it made it nearly impossible to know if her coy gazes and sly smiles actually meant anything.
Hell, she was doing it now, staring at him with her thick lashes shadowing her eyes, a slight curl to her soft lips.
Tucker decided, not for the first time, that it was safer to stick to business. For added effect, he put on his best expression of authority. “We’re in the middle of a storm and it’s dark as Hades out here.”
“A storm?” she said with surprise, peering at the sky as if she hadn’t known. “Why, I believe you’re right.”
Ignoring her saccharine sarcasm, he swiped rain and mud from his face and asked, “Was there a reason you’re out and about, Kady?”
“Yes, sir.”
Oh, that deference was its own sort of come on; he’d love playing cop to her damsel in distress...and thinking that was dangerous. He gave her a stern frown.
She sighed. “You’re no fun at all.” Taking pity on him, she pulled around in front of his SUV, put the vehicle in park and turned off the engine. He walked to the driver’s window, ready to ask what she thought she was doing, but she turned away out of her seat and beckoned him with a finger. “Come around back.”
Said the spider to the fly...
Though the rain was cold, it was a smothering hot night, and he could almost feel the steam rising from his shoulders and the back of his neck.
With or without the storm, that was a typical reaction when he was around Kady.
He hesitated, but he wasn’t a coward, so he trudged through the puddles accumulating on the road and walked around the van.
Kady opened the doors. “Come on up here.”
He eyed her skeptically. With all the equipment, there wasn’t a lot of room left in the cargo area of the van. She’d laid an already muddy towel on the floor, but held a clean one in her hands.
Almost as if she expected to dry him herself.
His skin prickled at the thought, and he swallowed heavily.
Voice softer now, she promised, “I don’t bite, you know.”
Damn it, now she was taunting him? Not tonight.
Mouth tight, he reached for a handhold and pulled himself up next to her. “I never said—”
“Not unless you ask me to.”
His gaze clashed with hers, and she actually smiled.
Oh God, he envisioned that soft mouth open on his shoulder, the wet touch of her tongue, the sharp edge of her teeth grazing his burning skin...
As if she knew the image she’d planted in his brain, her cheeks flushed and she leaned a little closer.
Her scent was that of damp skin and body heat and smoldering sex appeal. He continued to stare, all but mesmerized—an unfortunate reaction to being this close to her—until she finally lowered her lashes, freeing him.
The second she did, he sucked in a deep, necessary breath and tried to regain his famed cool demeanor.
Kady nodded at the muddy towel on the floor. “I had to clean up after being in the storm.” She plucked at the front of a too-large shirt, no doubt a backup because he knew she wouldn’t have come to work in something so unfashionable. “I’m not sure how you managed it, but you’re as muddy as I was. I assume you don’t want to ruin the seats of your SUV, so you’re welcome to clean up, too.”
She said a lot, all of it in a breathless rush that made him uneasy...and a little horny.
Annoyed with himself, he snatched the towel from her lax hand and asked, “Where’s Cleets?”
“I dropped him off at home.” Recovering, her voice turned playful again. “Don’t worry, Sheriff. I’ll return the van, get my car and get home well before midnight, I promise.”
She shouldn’t be out here alone, period. Yes, she was a grown woman who handled a demanding job with finesse, and yes, Buckhorn was mostly free of any serious crimes, but the weather was shit, and he’d already helped two locals who’d gotten stuck in the muck. Anything could happen to a woman alone, and when the woman was Kady—
“My, my,” she murmured, interrupting his dark thoughts. “You look grouchy as a bear. Very uncharacteristic for you.” She shifted, putting one shapely hip against a cabinet, and her voice lowered more when she asked, “Anything I can do to improve your mood?”
She infused so much suggestion into those words, his spine stiffened. “No.” He toweled off vigorously, then shot her a look. “But you can tell me why you’re out in this storm.”
“Yes, sir.” She watched him a little too intently as he ran the towel over his head and the back of his neck, cleaning off most of the splattered mud. “Cleets and I got some live shots of the storm from different locations, one of them near the lake.” She scrunched her nose. “It’s so blasted muddy, I slid, which is why I’m in these clothes and why there’s a muddy towel on the floor.”
Appalled, he stared down at her. “You slid into the lake?”
“No, near the lake.” She continued patiently, “But if I had fallen into the lake, I assure you I can swim. I’ve been in and out of the lake since before I could walk.”
“Not during storms.” He’d seen the lake earlier. Turbulent winds carried waves up and over the surfaces of docks, crashing them against the rock-lined shore.
“No lightning,” she pointed out. “Just rain, so it’s safe.”
The words were barely out of her mouth before lightning cracked behind them, followed by a deafening boom of thunder.
Tucker lifted a brow. “Seems like your forecast is a little off.”
Frowning, she moved close to him—so close he held his breath—then reached past him to close the door, sealing them both inside.
“What...?”
A mere inch away, Kady cocked her head. “We don’t want to invite the lightning in, right?”
He could feel her warm, moist breath, damn it. Stepping back seemed like a good idea, but it also felt gutless. “You’re the meteorologist.”
Her attention dipped to his mouth, then the open throat of his ruined, button-up shirt. Casually, without any evidence of the turmoil he felt, she returned to her position against the cabinet. “I really can swim, you know.”
“I assumed.” Much of her family lived right on the lake. Her dad was still one hell of a water-skier, and all of them spent plenty of time on various boats the family owned.
“The storms will end sometime tonight, and tomorrow it’ll be sweltering.” She bit her lip, for once looking unsure of herself as she softly suggested, “You should come by and take a dip with me after work.”
Get wet with her? While she wore a bikini? Ah, no. “Can’t.” He swiped at the mud on the front of his jeans, studiously avoiding her beautiful blue eyes.
The silence stretched out, straining his co
mposure—and his resistance.
Finally, she asked, “So why were you playing in the mud?”
“I wasn’t playing,” he replied, his tone thankfully moderate. “But it’s not easy to help push a car free without getting splattered.”
She looked him over, then turned and knelt in front of a duffel bag, rummaging inside until she stood again with a large black T-shirt. She thrust it toward him. “Here you go.”
He eyed the shirt warily.
“Don’t be modest, Sheriff. There’s no wiping away the mud.”
“It’s fine.”
She rolled her eyes. “It’s not like I’ve never seen a shirtless man before.” She tipped her head, her tone whisper-soft. “I’d offer you pants, too, but I don’t have any more.” She gestured at the loose athletic pants she wore. “I had to do my own wardrobe change.”
“With Cleets?”
“No one has accused me of being shy.”
It was the oddest thing, but heat crawled up his neck and behind his eyes, feeling a lot like anger.
Or jealousy.
Mouth tight, he took a step toward her before he could even think about what he was doing. “You changed in front of him?”
Her lips twitched, then she actually laughed. “If I had, Cleets would still be blushing. He’s shy, you know. And very much a gentleman. Plus he has a sweetheart, and he would never be disloyal to her by ogling another woman.”
Feeling like a fool, Tucker listened as the storm raged outside the van, and in his heart.
“Yup,” she whispered, again reading his thoughts. “I think we’re stuck together, at least until it lets up a little.”
“Probably.” He started on the buttons of his shirt. It was ridiculous the way her eyes flared a little, how she settled back as if expecting a show. Living on a big vacation lake meant she saw men in nothing more than trunks all summer long.
He pulled the tails free of his pants and shrugged the sodden, muddy fabric from his shoulders.
When he reached for the black T-shirt, she held it out of reach. “You’re tanned.”
