Leather for Two: Wings of Steel MC

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Leather for Two: Wings of Steel MC Page 15

by Rhonda Lee Carver


  From the short distance, Pearl could feel the penetrating heat from his hazel eyes that once made her think of tumbles in haystacks and long, scorching kisses. She lost her marbles one hot summer night behind a Rhinestone barn and blabbered her adolescent crush to him. She’d never told anyone about that evening, not even her sisters. Pearl was the only one who knew what happened that night—and of course DJ.

  Why was he staring at her like he wanted a repeat? Never!

  Why the hell had she been crushing on him anyway? Then again, what adult woman doesn’t feel a sense of regret over their first stupid crush, especially when the boy was an arrogant jerk?

  She abhorred DJ.

  Holding the cold metal of the shotgun in her hands, she removed her finger from the trigger and aimed it away from Satan who was now leaning casually against the porch rail, all six foot two, two hundred pounds of egotistical, self-righteous cowboy who sent her temperature rising—and not in a good way.

  “Don’t act as if you have no clue why I’m here! Where is Pugly? I’m going to shoot that danged bastard once and for all!” Since shooting DJ wasn’t an option, she could shoot the donkey, or at least take away his ‘tools’ for impregnating her prized horse.

  A proud smile spread over DJ’s tanned face making the brackets around his mouth deeper. “Why don’t you put that thing away before you shoot someone? I’ll get you a glass of water to cool you off.”

  “Don’t bother!”

  “A dip in the pond then?”

  He was pushing her every button. “If you can’t keep your donkey in your own pasture then I’m going to take matters into my own hands,” she seethed.

  “I’ve been thinking about this.” He hooked his thumb in his front pocket and shifted his work boots. “It seems all of the males here wander over onto Rhinestone to sample the greener grass. Foolish bastards we are.” His words dripped of latent meaning and she caught every implication like a slug into her stomach. She needed to keep her wits.

  At times, she questioned whether she truly despised DJ, but the emotion that scorched her insides and made her dizzy told her it was a good possibility. He was a poison she couldn’t seem to medicate or extricate. After so many years she shouldn’t allow fury to consume her, but she had little control when it came to DJ. “Scrawny caught Pugly in the pen with Charmin, again. That makes the second time this month.”

  A casual shrug of his shoulder sent an ache through her jaw. “I already heard. Scrawny was nice enough to bring my donkey home. He certainly has a thing for that horse of yours. And from what I hear, Charmin likes the attention.” He winked.

  “How can you be so inconsiderate? Does it even occur to you that Charmin is a Thoroughbred, a perfect pairing of sire and dam? I have been preparing her since Thanksgiving to breed with a suitable stud, not with a donkey!”

  “Ahh, but wouldn’t their mule be so precious?”

  His sarcasm boiled her blood. “I’m beginning to believe you’re walking that ass over to the Rhinestone, opening the gate, and letting him in with Charmin.”

  He scratched his jaw and the rasping of his five o’clock shadow made her ears throb—and another place further south she wasn’t about to examine closer. “Why do you hate us boys with a passion, Pearl? We’re your neighbors.”

  “I don’t hate you boys.” She sighed.

  “Really?”

  “I only dislike you.”

  The corner of his mouth twitched. The same lips that had kissed her virgin lips when she was seventeen and had brought her more dreams over the years than she could count. She gave her head a shake. One freaking kiss! How was it possible she hadn’t forgotten his taste, his leather and soap scent, and the feel of his hands on her back pressing into her flesh?

  She became even madder.

  “Aren’t you ever going to get tired of busting my balls?” His velvety smooth voice that made women drool only made her want to vomit. Rumors were spinning that he had an entire following of waiting and willing booty call hopefuls. She wouldn’t be a fish he could hook as he’d done before.

  “Probably not.” She smirked. “After all, it only seems you get some sick humor out of provoking me.”

  “How have I provoked you?” He pushed away from the rail, tucking his hands into his back pockets. The large silver buckle on his belt twinkled in the sunlight.

  “For one, you lied. Your dad told mine that I almost hit you with the truck. We both know that no such thing happened.”

  His gaze narrowed and he knuckled the rim of his brown hat. “I guess we just have different ideas of vehicular assault.”

  Her mouth dropped. “I didn’t hit you!”

  “Yeah, because I jumped into the ditch.” His face turned red.

  “I was twenty feet from you. If you hadn’t shot into the grass like a varmint, you would have seen that I was merely passing by. Then you went crying to your dad, telling him a cockamamie story.” She laughed and she quite enjoyed his infuriated expression. Securing the butt of the gun on the ground, she held the muzzle. She realized she wouldn’t be using it today.

  “I hope you love that little darlin’ mule Charmin foals. I’ll take it if you don’t want it.”

  His words crashed into her sanity. Although she hated to admit it, he got the upper hand because the fact was her Charmin was probably with foal—or rather mule. Not only had she bought Charmin because she was beautiful, but Pearl had researched the most beneficial bloodline to mate with her newest horse. All of the hard work could be for naught. “Charmin is worth ten times what that ugly donkey of yours is valued.”

  “Hey, don’t offend my donkey.”

  “You know he’s ugly. That’s why you called him Pugly. Now where is he?”

  Although still irritated, she wouldn’t shoot the donkey. She hadn’t shot anything in her life. In fact, she wasn’t much of a good shot. Somehow she’d probably miss Pugly and shoot herself in the foot.

  “He’s in his pen resting. He burrowed a hole through the fence during the night.” DJ’s calm voice had returned.

  “And who might we thank for securing a good fence?” She popped up a brow.

  “Me.”

  “Figures,” she huffed.

  “Maybe I should bring it to your attention that your dog, Oyster, is always over here fraternizing with my Callie.” He ascended the steps, pushing back his hat. “But I can handle an oversized dog and I wouldn’t need a shotgun.”

  “Who’s Callie?” Her words were barely past her lips when she heard a loud whimper behind her. She turned and her breath caught. A pair of molten, brown eyes stared back at her. “That’s not a dog. That’s a miniature horse.” The Mastiffs tongue plopped out of her mouth and swung like a pendulum.

  Pearl loved animals, always had. So when Callie lopped toward her then stopped a few feet away, ears perked as if silently asking for permission to approach, Pearl was more than happy to oblige. “Come here, girl.” Pearl held out her palm. The dog was beautiful.

  “Be careful. That dog might appear sweet, but she’s big and powerful,” DJ warned.

  “Do you think you’re the only one who can handle a dog?” She patted Callie on top of the head, rubbed her behind the ears, and received what looked like a canine smile. “See, Callie’s a big baby. Ain’t that right, girl?”

  The telephone rang from inside the house.

  “I need to get that,” DJ said.

  “Go ahead. Callie and I will get to know each other better.”

  The squeaking of the screen door made Callie’s ears pop forward. Her tail whirled and before Pearl knew what was happening, Callie jumped up, her huge paws pushing Pearl’s chest, sending her backward. Not expecting the sudden onslaught of weight and strength, she lost her footing. At the same time that she was pushed to the ground, hitting her bottom hard on the cement, her hand slipped off the gun.

  Bang!

  The gun fired.

  “Shit!” DJ yelled.

  Pearl struggled with Callie and finally mana
ged to slide out from underneath the two-hundred pound pooch. Struggling to her feet, Pearl couldn’t believe her eyes.

  This wouldn’t end well for her.

  ****

  DJ stared up at the petite brunette from his hospital bed in the emergency room. The way she had her chin cocked and her fist planted on her slanted hip made his stomach twist. Or maybe it was the dose of pain meds that made him queasy, but he’d bet a month’s wages it had everything to do with the cowgirl who almost killed him, for the second time.

  He practically growled as he shifted his legs on the stiff mattress. If it wasn’t demeaning enough that he had every nurse and doctor in the ER examining his backside, he had to wear the thin, feminine gown, which added to his annoyance. He’d asked one nurse if they had something manlier, maybe one without the flowered design, but she’d told him ‘one for all’. She did whisper to him that he could take it off if he’d be more comfortable. Her smile had stretched from one hoop earring to the other, followed by a fluttering of her long, mascaraed lashes. He might have found that offer appealing if he wasn’t in a hospital bed with his wounded ass stuck up in the air. This wasn’t a pose he ever wanted to be in.

  But thanks to the lady who still eyed him as if she could shoot his other cheek, here he was.

  “Pearl, I think you’ve gone and jumped off the deep end,” DJ growled.

  “You know I didn’t mean to shoot you. It was an accident,” she huffed.

  “This is why crazy women shouldn’t be allowed to have guns.” He shook his head.

  “This is why crazy men shouldn’t own pets.” Her jaw softened some. “Anyway, I didn’t kill you. You’ll be like new in a few days.” Her smiled seemed like it’d crack her face.

  An overwhelming feeling of wanting to toss her over his knee and spank her rushed through him. “You shot me in the ass, woman!”

  “Clarification…the bullet skimmed your ass. Although it might hurt like hell, I can see it and it’s not that bad.”

  “Not that bad? And stop looking.” Rolling his eyes, he swore his rising blood pressure would make the staff in the emergency department think he was having a heart attack. Then he’d be in the hospital for more than the shot in the butt. “I’m sorry that I’m not in the mood for finer details, sweetheart. A shot ass is a shot ass.” He could hear his brothers now joking about his predicament. He’d never live this down. Good thing they were away for a few more days at the cattle auction and rodeo in San Antonio.

  Pearl’s tongue came out and swept along the plump ridge of her bottom lip, causing a stirring below the waist. What the hell?

  Oh hell no! His parts had better behave.

  He blamed his lack of discipline on the fact that he hadn’t been with a woman for a long while and not from any sexual attraction for the crazy cowgirl standing ten feet away from him. She was the devil’s spawn. He didn’t like her—not one bit.

  Yeah, he’d admit she was pretty enough. In fact, all of the Stone women could turn a head from a mile away and, like all his brothers, at one time or another they’d either sampled one of the sexy trio or had tried. DJ wished he was immune, but one night on the Rhinestone back when he was a teen had proven he couldn’t resist. He’d lost his head with Pearl after she’d told him she ‘liked’ him and smiled the prettiest smile he’d ever seen. Hell, he’d had a crush on her too, a big one, but his plans for college were at the top of his priorities. Besides going away to school, he wasn’t interested in a long distance relationship. He wanted to get his business degree and come home to open the R&R, just as his father had promised he could.

  After four years at The University of Texas, DJ came home and made sure to avoid the troublemaking female Stone clan, only waving in greeting or asking about the weather when he came across one of them. Pearl had always given him the cold shoulder as if she was too good for him. He’d rather take a dirt bath off a horse than be in the same room with her. She looked as if she could fire up his ass—and she’d actually managed to this morning.

  The cave of his chest narrowed. DJ just wanted the doctor to get into the room and stitch him up so he could head home. It wasn’t his idea to come to the hospital in the first place. Pearl had freaked and almost passed out when she saw what she’d done. After realizing the bullet wasn’t lodged in his body, he’d planned to slap on a butterfly bandage and call it fixed, but Pearl insisted she drive him to the hospital. She wouldn’t take no for an answer.

  Hell, she’d been right. He needed his ass to work and the quicker he healed the better. He had people scheduled for riding lessons, tours, and cabins were lined up for rental. An injury would only get in the way of business.

  His brothers picked a darn good time to go on vacation. They’d wanted him to go, but someone had to watch the ranch. He hadn’t taken a break longer than a day in more time than he could remember so why in the hell should they be allowed? Even his dad was away on some fishing expedition.

  Bringing his attention back on that smirking tart, he hoped more than anything Charmin had a baby mule Pugly—it’d deserve Pearl right.

  “Karma is a bitch!” Pearl sniffed loudly.

  “Yeah, and so are some women.” Damn, he’d sunk too far and by the narrowing of her gaze, she wanted to bury a finger into the wound on his cheek. A gentleman through and through, he wasn’t sure how Pearl could make him come unglued each and every time. Pearl’s mouth opened and he knew she was about to rip him a new asshole, but the door opened and DJ was saved by the doctor. He’d never been happier to see a white coat in his life. “That’s your cue to leave, Pearl. Three’s a crowd.”

  He watched her—mouth closed, lips thinned—as she turned and marched out of the room. DJ smiled. There was something about making her angry that made revenge a little tastier.

  Feeling a cool breeze sweep across his butt cheeks, DJ flinched and shot a look over his shoulder. The doc had the gown open and was examining DJ’s rump. “How does it look, doc?”

  “Like you’re one lucky son-of-a-gun. It’s only a flesh wound, but I’ll give you a couple of stitches and you’ll be as good as new—at least in a week. No riding though for two weeks.”

  “Two weeks?” DJ couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

  “Yes, that’s what I said. Two weeks. Although the wound is nothing serious, you’ll need to take it easy so you don’t pull out any of the sutures. They’ll have to stay in for ten days. If you’re worried about a scar and what the ladies might think, we can keep them in longer.” The doc covered the flap of DJ’s gown.

  “Can’t you just slap on a butterfly bandage or use glue and I’ll keep ointment on it?” The last thing he wanted was to be stuck in a horizontal position for one day, let alone a week.

  “The wound’s too deep for a bandage alone. And you’ll risk infection.”

  DJ ground his hands into fists. All of this over a donkey, a horse, and one out-of-her-mind woman! “Then let’s just get this over with.”

  ****

  Pearl heard the tapping of heels on the waxed floor and looked up to find Em coming up the corridor, a smile on her face. Only she would find this situation humorous.

  “I’m glad you came, Em.”

  “And I thought Jewels shouldn’t handle a gun.” Em shook her head, her smile growing wider.

  “I didn’t know if you got my message. Service is crappy here.” Pearl stood up from the seat in the ER lobby.

  Em gave her a quick hug and a kiss on the cheek. “I wouldn’t miss this for the world. I wish I could have seen the look on DJ’s face when he was shot in the butt. Priceless.” Her words made several surrounding people turn their heads in interest.

  “Shhh!” Pearl grabbed her sister’s arm and tugged her down the hall away from others. “I’m not proud of what I’ve done. It was an accident.”

  Em raised a thin brow. “Okay.”

  “What? You don’t believe me?” Pearl wrapped her arms around her waist, feeling a wave of uneasiness.

  “I believe you, but you
do know this doesn’t look good.”

  Pearl nodded. What could she say in her defense? The proof was in DJ’s wounded ass. “What do you think Dad is going to say?”

  “Oh, I think you’ll find out very soon.” Em’s face paled.

  “Why is that?” Pearl asked.

  Em stabbed a finger through the air. “Look.”

  Pearl turned and her breath rushed from her lungs. Coming toward them through the lobby was Joshua Stone. His furrowed brow, red face, and quickstep told her just how upset he was. “Did you call and tell him, Em?”

  “No, I didn’t. Maybe Scrawny did.”

  Once he was closer, Pearl attempted to put a smile on her face. Sometimes that worked for the Stone daughters, but his jaw remained steely. “Dad, what are you doing here?”

  He shook his head and, as he stopped, his boots squealed on the floor. His grey eyes narrowed into slits. Powerful and in-charge, her father had the capability of making almost anyone cower under his glare—including his three daughters. He wasn’t a mean man, but he had little patience when it came to mischief.

  “I’ve come to clean up another mess.” His focus drifted over the lobby full of sick people. “Let’s take this to a private spot where we can talk.” He nodded his head toward the other end of the hall.

  Pearl followed him, shoulders slumped. Em gave her a look of encouragement.

  “You didn’t need to come and clean up anything. I have this under control.”

  Joshua’s wrinkles deepened. “Pearl, then why am I getting a call from Scrawny telling me you took off in a huff after threatening DJ Walters? Then I come to find out that you shot the boy in the ass.” His gaze burrowed into her skin.

  “I didn’t shoot him.” Pearl sighed. Joshua’s wiry silver brow shot up. She swallowed the heaviness in her throat. “Okay, I did, but it was an accident. His dog jumped on me and the shotgun went off.”

  There wasn’t even an ounce of forgiveness in her father’s expression. “I thought we’d discussed this before following the incident with the truck. You were supposed to stay far away from him because you two act like children.” He kept his voice low. “What is it with you and your sisters and toting guns like they’re purses?”

 

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