by Susan Arden
“Like hell. You’d better not. The day it’s my turn to take off, I sure won’t be thinking of you or this place when I’m with the woman who’s got me on the go.”
Brandon’s chest constricted. “We’ll see.” He climbed into his truck and pulled through the gates of Evermore. Three days to do as he pleased, with a woman who tantalized him in and out of bed. “Mia,” he groaned. In less than an hour, she’d be sitting next to him.
On the drive, he tried to keep from overreacting about how or what he’d do to squelch this breach in the club security. Serious shit for someone to commit what amounted to fraud, and more and more his mind returned to one name. He gritted his teeth and picked up his cell phone.
“What are you doing checking in? Aren’t you off the grid?” Miller laughed. Being the middle brother, nothing perturbed him. He was ice, and the man who worked the finances of the ranch.
“Need a favor.”
“Shoot,” Miller said.
“How are you set for pulling some records?”
“As in financials?” Miller asked, his voice growing serious.
“Sort of. Whatever you can lay your hands on.”
“Who?”
“Valerie Kramer.” He clenched his jaw, expecting some flak from his brother.
“Isn’t she the girl—”
“Same one. You met her at that bonfire last year.”
“Never good when you’re investigating a past girlfriend.”
“This isn’t stalking. She’s done something shady, dealing with money or a loan that might involve me and without my goddamn permission.” Frustration slow-burned in his gut.
“Holy shit. You got her social security number? If not, get me her birth date and current address.”
“Got it all at the club. That won’t be a problem,” Brandon said, his voice dropping low.
He kept a file on Val in his safe. Maybe that’s what she was after. When she’d blown him off and admitted her interest in him had been money based, he’d suspected that the truth was more encompassing than her sharp words.
It didn’t take long for the truth to bear proof. She’d overstepped toward the end by opening a charge account at a lingerie boutique in his name. When the bill came due, Val had already split, and he paid it only after questioning the owner. He’d received a copy of the credit application—the one she’d completed and signed. He’d followed up by sending Val a warning, informing her she’d better think long and hard before she used him again. She downplayed the matter with an email—wrote that she’d forgotten the bill when she’d moved.
In retrospect, it was too easy to see how one-sided the relationship had been, with him freely buying her whatever she’d wanted. Fuck! Knowing her, I set myself up to get blindsided. He gripped the steering wheel until the muscles in his arms shook.
“Thought you were headed out of town.” Miller remarked. “Still going to the cottage?”
“My plans haven’t changed. I’ll have Pen send the information to you,” he spoke through gritted teeth, telling himself to calm down.
“That’ll do. I’ll be waiting. If she’s doing something wrong, I’ll find it. This won’t take long and if you need, I have an attorney available who can deal with this stuff. Sounds like identity theft, and we’ll go after her like white on rice.”
“That’s what I thought. Thanks.” He felt a glimmer of relief, knowing Miller’s expertise in working under the radar and slowly he relaxed his chokehold on his steering wheel.
“You’ll owe me, but nothing you can’t handle,” Miller said.
“Tack it onto my bill.” He could feel a smile tug at his mouth. “You know I’m good for it.”
“Bran, never a doubt. Payback isn’t a bitch when you’ve got someone covering your back.” Miller laughed and hung up.
If anyone could uncover the financials on a person, it was Miller and his connections. His wife’s family had more resources than God, and Miller walked a slender line between the seriously rich—due to Virginia’s father—and small town living. They were all counting the days until Miller finally acquiesced and moved to Dallas to assume a position in his wife’s family empire. But until then, Brandon was glad their family was still intact at Evermore.
The thought of starting his own family tore into him and he gripped the steering wheel harder. Lost in thought, he arrived at Mia’s apartment with some firm ideas of what he wanted for his future to look like. Her beside him topped his list, but how to convince her to stay, if she wanted to leave…that challenged him—kept him on edge.
Mia had said to give her a heads up, so he texted her, I’m here.
Perfect timing. I’m ready, Mia texted back.
He smiled to himself. She didn’t need to do anything other than get into his truck. He’d brought food and several…items…to keep them busy. Walking up the steps to her apartment, he found her at the mailbox just inside the foyer.
The front door knob spun in his hand. “What’s up with this lock?”
She walked to meet him at the doorstep, her brows drawn. “The lock has been busted for a while. The rent is cheap, the location is great, but things take a while to get repaired.”
“And here I thought I was lucky getting in last night.”
“More me.” She laughed softly and drew her bottom lip between her teeth.
“Come here,” he said, holding out his arms. The anticipation of tasting Mia’s softness ignited his smoldering lust to command her. Yet that’s not all that she needed. He reminded himself she sought independence out of a desire to assert her strength and a measure of her resourcefulness, not retribution or a need to hurt him. He most definitely could work with those parameters and encircled her waist within his grasp.
“Kiss me,” he said, gazing into her captivating eyes.
She rose up on her tiptoes and pressed her soft mouth to his. She parted her lips, sweeping her tongue into his mouth. Without waiting, she deepened the kiss, and he let her decide how far to take it. She sucked and nipped his lips, then slid her tongue back into his mouth and he couldn’t hold back. He took them to the hallway wall and pressed his body into hers, thrusting his tongue into her mouth, and unleashing a groan that spilled from his throat.
“Baby,” he murmured, squeezing her hips up to him.
Her tits rubbed teasingly over his chest, and the urge to take her rode over him. “Can you wait until we get to the cottage?” He was putting the ball in her court. No pushing, even though that’s what he felt like doing. That’s not what worked. He had to let her come to him.
She planted another indescribable kiss on his lips and he inhaled her fragrance, struggling to pull away. Some essence of Mia had sunk bone-deep inside him, ran wild in his blood, and had taken up residence in his heart. He stared down at her, coming to the realization that he was falling in love with her.
Madly in love, in fact. The feeling of coming undone hadn’t lessened. Shit, it only increased each time they were together. Each of his brothers—except for Rory—had fallen like a ton of bricks for their wives and fiancée. Even his sister had gone off the deep end, a feat he’d never believed possible. Why shouldn’t he? The question remained…was Mia?
Her dark, seductive eyes blinked up at him. “Barely,” she murmured. “Good thing we have an appointment.”
“Appointment?” he repeated in a bemused voice and truly only interested in sampling another taste of her mouth.
She laughed. “I promised.”
The front door opened without warning and a man walked inside. The smile on Mia’s face immediately morphed into an angry frown. Brandon shifted his attention to the man, wondering who the hell could invoke her displeasure, and so swiftly. Mia tensed against him, but made no move to say or do anything.
“Sweet thing,” the man said. “No words of welcome?”
“That’s the thing,” she said softly. “You aren’t welcome.”
“Always were a challenge,” the man snapped. He leered at Mia with barely concealed
lust and it sent Brandon into protective mode.
“Better turn around and make for that door,” Brandon said, keeping his voice down as he addressed the guy.
“Just leave, Beau.” Mia tensed against him as she spoke.
Holy shit. Brandon recognized the name, making the connection with the one on his club form marked ‘No future admittance.’ The asshole who had exposed himself. Worse, the fucker who’d insulted and hurt Mia. Her miserable ex.
The jerk took a step toward them. In response, Brandon straightened and lowered his arm protectively over Mia’s shoulder. “Mister, your hearing must be off. So far you’ve been politely asked to use the door. I suggest you do it.”
“Don’t think so.” The man curled his hands into fists, his gaze falling as though he were checking Brandon out.
“Is it a habit of yours to show up uninvited? Says a lot about a person.” Brandon pulled Mia to his side, farther away from that chickenshit.
He had Beau Humphrey by a good five inches, and had no problem putting his words into action.
Humphrey shook his head. “Pal, I don’t know you. I don’t want to. And this is personal. Mia and I have history. How about I suggest you be the one to step through the front door and let this woman and me settle our differences. She’s mine. Whatever you enjoyed is over. Tell him, sugar pie.”
“Wrong, Beau. You need to leave and don’t come back. Ever,” she said firmly. Mia tried to pull away from Brandon like the spitfire she was, but he wasn’t having it.
“So, I made a mistake. You gonna hold that over my head, then come on. It don’t matter ‘cause I got a way for us both to be happy. Don’t think I didn’t see you last night. At that sex club,” Humphrey sneered.
“How’d you get inside?” Brandon asked, stepping in front of the dude while holding Mia off to the side.
“Is that where you two met? Oh, I see,” Humphrey snickered. And then he made the mistake of throwing the first punch.
“Mia, get back.” Brandon arched his torso, pushing Mia farther behind him.
Shit, he had no choice but to shut this asshole down. He brought his fist around in an uppercut, clocking Humphrey in the jaw. The punch landed with enough force to send the man staggering backward.
Brandon wanted answers. He grabbed the loser by the lapel of his shitty suit and delivered two rapid jabs into his face. “Answer my question. How’d you get in?”
“What the fuck is it to you?” Beau stared up at him, a line of blood trickling out of his mouth.
Brandon slammed the man into the wall. “Not how we’re playing this. If you can’t remember, I’ll take you outside and beat the shit out of you. Give me a good reason and we’re out that door.”
“Okay. Okay!” The dude held up his hands. “A client gave me passes.”
“Name.”
“Why do you care?”
“It’s my club, dumbass.”
Humphrey laughed and leered over to Mia. “Oh, shit. This is too funny. You’re hooked up with a sex club owner?”
Brandon could knock this fucker into tomorrow without breaking a sweat. Feral impulses in him fired across his nerves to deck the dumbshit. Trouncing him wouldn’t be any problem—he’d grown up wild and crazy on a cattle ranch. Fighting and wrestling were second nature to Brandon.
He clenched his jaw and twisted Humphrey’s arm up behind his back, then walked the sack of shit to the front door. Before exiting, he wheeled the idiot around to face to Mia. “Anything else you want to say to this sorry serving of garbage on feet?”
Mia shook her head. “Nothing.” She stared back at him, her eyes wide with worry.
Seeing Mia upset burned him. Brandon held on to the fucker, lifting him onto the tips of his toes, but all the while he kept his voice gravelly and in control. “Come around here or my club again, I’ll have your ass thrown in jail. Cheap suit and all.”
He marched the asshole to the door then flung him out onto the front porch. Brandon followed him outside and kicked him in the ass, making him stumble down the steps.
“Don’t get so riled.” Humphrey retorted, straightening his jacket. “You can’t honestly believe this is the last time I’ll see her. The way she acts, shit. I’ll have that sweet piece of ass anytime I want. Maybe we can do a threesome. If not you, I’ll get her hooked up. Time is on my side.”
“You’ll never see her again.” Brandon walked down the steps coming up to the asshole and wondering why he hadn't already beaten him to a pulp.
The sick fuck’s grin widened. “What are you going to do, keep her under lock and key in a dungeon? On second thought, bet you’d like that. Huh?”
“Your mouth just bought you a ton of trouble.” Brandon lunged at the arrogant ass, sending them both to the frozen ground. He struck Humphrey in the face, landing two well-aimed punches. Then he processed the threat this moron had slung about Mia, and really went to work on teaching Humphrey a lesson. Brandon pummeled him in the face and torso with both fists, pounding into the man’s head, aiming for damage and delivering a clear, stone-cold, unmistakable message that Mia was his. Totally. Irrevocably.
“Brandon, stop!” Mia pulled on his shoulder. “He’s not worth it.”
He almost couldn’t stop himself, at least not until he glanced up and saw the anguish in Mia’s eyes. He nodded. “Wait for me on the steps. Now, Mia.” He kept his voice down, waiting for her to do as he’d directed.
When she turned around and walked back to the porch, he trained his gaze on the moron holding the side of his face and spoke unhurriedly. “You touch one hair on her head, and I’ll hunt you down. There won’t be a rock big enough for you to hide under.”
Brandon stood up and joined Mia. She held out his hat. They walked inside as he knocked it against his thigh and he took hold of Mia’s arm.
“I’m sorry," she said. “He’s a jerk.”
“Only glad you’re rid of him.” A tightening in his gut took a painful hold. He’d seen upset boyfriends before but that dude’s amusement—enjoyment—in threatening Mia was beyond crude…it was disturbing. “Need to get the front door fixed pronto.”
“I contacted the superintendent, but I’ll do it again.”
“If he doesn’t have it fixed by the time we get back, let me know. I’ll deal with it,” he growled.
“Isn’t that a little overprotective? Get this memo, I already have a fanatical father.”
“Now you’ve got a fanatic—” he almost said boyfriend. Shit, was this the best way to let her freely come to him? Announcing his status without talking with her? Priceless, McLemore!
“Yes?” she unlocked her front door. “What were you going to say?”
Shutting the door behind them, he pulled her into his arms. “Boyfriend. I don’t want you dating anyone besides me. I don’t want to date anyone else. You’re wearing my collar. I know it’s temporary, but I’d rather have you completely for three months, not half-way.”
She inhaled and smiled shyly up at him. “No, I can’t imagine you doing anything half-way.”
“So. Do you agree?”
“You strike a hard bargain. Boyfriend…I like the sound of that.”
“Good, ‘cause now I can do some things that come with boyfriend status.”
“Like?” She curled her arms around his waist and buried her face in his chest. He wrapped his arms around her, kissing the top of her head.
“You’ll find out.”
Chapter Nineteen
“Just five minutes,” Mia swung her gaze to Brandon, biting down on her lip and imagining what it would be like in a private cottage, where she could scream to her heart’s content from his ability to command her pleasure.
“Give me those,” Brandon said. “You’re getting me hard with that look. I hear you loud and clear.” He carried the houseplants in front of him as they climbed the front steps to the treatment center. After signing in, they waited in the reception area. It wasn’t long until a peal of laughter and shouts echoed down the corridor, and t
wo blond heads bounced toward them.
“You came!” Selma shrieked. Instead of grabbing Brandon, the twins grabbed Mia. “We knew you would.”
“We got you something,” Mia squeezed out, gasping from their tight hugs.
“Hey, Brandon,” the twins said in unison, finally turning to him.
Selma asked, “You doing okay?”
“Better than ever,” he said standing off to the side.
“Here. One for you, and one for you.” Mia handed a bag to each girl. “Just a little something.”
“Oh my God! You remembered!” Esme drew out the package of bubble gum. “And it’s sour apple! My favorite.”
Selma removed a pack of mascara. “You totally rock. I have a special visitor coming and I was sweating if you’d bring this gem. Big, big hug!” Selma threw her arms around Mia again.
Brandon’s eyebrow rose, but with a sharp look from Mia he quit with a shrug of his broad shoulders. “And these,” he said.
“We’re ready,” Selma replied. The girls shifted the bags in their arms and each of them took one of the plants.
“Good.” Mia smiled, hoping they truly were. “This is your project. Each of them has directions. When I come back on Sunday, I want to know more about each of your plants than I know about you. "
“Our counselor clued us in. And we’ve been studying.” Esme pulled a small houseplant guidebook from her pocket. “I checked this out from the center’s library.”
Selma brushed her fingers over the leaves of the peace lily. “I only read a magazine. But there was an article on plants.”
“It was about flowers, silly,” Esme retorted.
Selma stuck out her tongue. “Still. It was on track.”
After a few more minutes of minor bickering and the rise in color along Brandon’s neck, Mia promised the twins she’d be back, even though they whined and wheedled for her to come well before Sunday. She didn’t divulge her plans and held to her original visitation schedule. That’s how treatment worked best with her newest patients, who loved to badger and push each and every boundary.
