by Susan Arden
“What?” Brett asked, tying the apron she’d given him. He came up behind her and kissed the back of her head.
She held up the letter so he could see it. “Looks like Dr. Peterson told Ryder Bennett that her team had accepted another offer from Pro Works. As of next year, our department will be engaged in a two-year research project that has nothing to do with Ryder Bennett or his corporation. It’s much larger and more encompassing than simply studying university students.”
“Is that good?” he asked, leaning against the counter and pulling her to him.
“It’s better than good.” Cory laid her head against his shoulder and considered what this news meant insofar as her future and staying in school out West. She’d managed to speak with Ryder Bennett and told him to back the hell off. It had not been one of her finest moments, but her Texas upbringing of walking a straight line made her stand her ground. Billionaire or not, Mr. Bennett wasn’t going to underhandedly victimize her.
She’d visited one of Brett’s volunteer groups for adults with learning disabilities and heard heart-rending stories from several women. During the meeting, she’d learned how many people opted for empowering assertive methods over deflating passive acceptance. Or worse, damaging aggressive gut reactions. From there, she’d phone Mr. Bennett and stood her ground, telling him unequivocally to leave her alone or she’d file a complaint for harassment.
“Sounds impressive. Looks like you won’t be leaving L.A. after all.”
“It’s a megacorporation. Parent company to cosmetics and apparel groups. The top suppliers identified so far in our marketing program to university students. Dr. Peterson wrote the chairman of Pro Works, a UCLA alum; Pro Works agreed to match Bennett’s grant, but only if Dr. Peterson would identify and help with Pro Works’ advertising team. Not only are they in Paris, but Pro Works has offices in London, Madrid, New York, Chicago, and even Tokyo.” She turned around to face him. “This is a much broader program. There’re so many pieces.”
“Does that mean you’re still on for Paris?” he asked. Suddenly his face took on a serious expression.
On Christmas morning, she and Brett were downstairs making coffee before attempting to tackle breakfast. Cory tucked the paper back inside the envelope. Tossing it onto the counter, she threaded her fingers with Brett’s. “I was still thinking of not going back to UCLA. I was unofficially accepted into A&M thanks to Miller’s connections.”
There. She said what she’d been harboring, but she didn’t feel the sense of relief she’d expected. With this turn of events, confusion filled her and unhinged her decision to transfer to a school closer to home. She’d been doubtful about her next move when it came to being far from home in a program that had torn apart her basic need to feel safe and secure. Now, that wasn’t the case, but still she felt unsure on what to do. Standing in the kitchen from her childhood, the place she’d be for years to come with her family, and the man she loved by her side, she wanted it all. And that was impossible. Something had to give and she wasn’t willing to put her engagement to the test.
“Remember, this isn’t a decision you have to make on the fly,” he said, as though sensing her confusion.
“Yeah. Better get the coffee started before there’s a riot,” she said, reaching for the canister.
“Not so fast. I’m not going anywhere until I’m forced to,” he said, kissing her neck.
With his hands slung low on her hips, she leaned against him, pouring aromatic ground coffee into the filter basket. His fingers moved under her shirt and swiped across her belly. She gasped under the onslaught of Brett’s hands. Her skin tightened and she almost dropped the coffee scoop as he delivered her into the realm of craving him. With the feel of his hard body behind her and his seductive laugh swimming in her head, she was on the brink of doing something crazy on one of the kitchen counters.
“Know how close you are to having yourself mauled?” she asked.
“That’s the direction I’m hoping to take you, baby.” He picked up her hair, twisting it around his hand, and lightly bit her neck. “The things I want to do to you when I get you back home.”
“Number 88, you’re about to be pulled into the mud room and have your clothes removed.”
“We’ve all the time in the world,” he said with a trace of laugher, then slowly nibbled her neck until she squirmed. “I’ll take what’s mine later tonight.”
“You don’t mind getting up early to help?” Cory stopped fighting and leaned up next to Brett, pressing her hips into his. She’d volunteered to be the one who manned the kitchen on Christmas morning since Mama was still recovering, not expecting him to get up as well.
“Not if it means I get to snuggle up against you for a few more minutes before the troops arrive.” His low voice caressed her neck. “Got you something. Better give it to you before it’s too late.”
Closing the top to the coffee maker, she turned in his arms. “As in Christmas present?”
She smiled, wondering when they’d exchange gifts and if he’d want to do it privately or in a room filled to the gills.
His lips curved upward. “Not really. I don’t want you to think of this as a gift. More like a promise.” Brett dug into his pocket while keeping his other hand on her hip, his thumb angled right at the spot to make her go wild. And he had for a week, once he was fitted with a knee brace—he was unstoppable. She’d stayed with him, learning from Raquel and Anna what exercises worked and how to motivate one stubborn tight end who might be feeling blue. The doctor had said if Brett didn’t heal lightning fast, he’d be benched for the Super Bowl. So far, so good. He was on track for not only playing but starting.
“I like promises,” she murmured.
He held out a closed fist. “Open your hand and shut your eyes.”
She glanced down at his hand, then back toward his face. “It’s too small to be a puppy.”
“Miss McLemore, not until we’re married and can figure out the logistics.”
Her heart jumped. She’d still not settled what she was doing this summer. They’d agreed to getting married in the winter of the following year. A long engagement in the history of Evermore couples. But so what? Her parents had always said she broke the mold, and why stop now?
He sighed, “Still waiting for those beautiful eyes to close.”
“Oh. Right.” She laughed, holding out her palm. His fingers brushed across the surface of her hand, and then he set a flat piece of metal on her skin. Brett wrapped her fingers around whatever he’d placed in her hand while he cupped her fist.
“Ready. What do you think it is?”
She opened her eyes, meeting his gaze that sparkled with amusement. “You’re definitely up to no good.”
“Take a guess,” he said, his lips curling into a sexy smile.
“Metal. Flat. Feels rough.” She cocked her head, concentrating on the texture of the warm metal he’d placed in her hand. “A key?”
He bent his head, scraping his jaw over her cheek, before brushing his mouth across hers. “Why are you so smart?” He moved his hands back to her waist, bringing her firmly between his legs as she opened her fingers and stared at an ornate key with a pink ribbon.
“What’s it to?” She spied a tiny paper tag and turned it over. “Rue 152, Penthouse.”
“This is to our apartment in Paris,” he said, staring at her. “If you like it. It’s leased, but the realtor assured me, if you wanted something different, no problem.”
Cory felt her eyes widen. “You got us a place?” She jumped up, throwing her arms around his neck, pressing her body flush with his. “I love it. We’ll be together in Paris!”
“I’m thinking of taking some time off this summer. I’ll come when you’re not busy.”
“Always have time for my sexy fiancé. And in Paris!” She hugged him.
“We can travel, too. I got some books and a travel agent who said we can do anything from rail to bikes. All we have to do
is pick.”
“I can’t believe you’ll be with me.” She kissed him squarely on the mouth, melting as his tongue tangled with hers.
The kitchen door swung open. “Don’t you two ever get tired?” Rory grumbled. “Is the coffee ready?”
She laughed against Brett’s mouth. “My twin was born with a party pooper gene.”
“Morning,” Brett said, refusing to let her go without one last squeeze to her hips. With an arched brow, his gaze dipped low on her body and her skin heated. That look of his was imprinted in her brain and had the power to make her tremble. He pushed away from the counter and opened a carton of eggs. He’d agreed to make pancakes and dressed in a white apron, he was something, all right.
“Here,” Cory said, picking up a mug and handing it to her brother. “Merry Christmas.”
“Back at ya,” Rory said. Her brother leaned against the sink on the side of the coffee pot, waiting for the beep. “Saw Matt’s car out in the driveway. Gillian and Stephen just pulled up, too.”
“Why don’t you go and help them?” she asked, frowning over at her brother. Rory was wound tighter than an eight-day clock, and she wondered what woman would ever put up with his nonsense.
“Thought it would be more fun to annoy you in the kitchen, little sister.” Tugging on his Stetson, Rory smirked causing his solitary dimple to deepen.
“Mission accomplished. You’re free to move on to your next target,” Cory said, pinching his arm.
“Hey! I’m the person who has to go and deal with the barn babies. So excuse me if I’m not a cheerful elf this morning.” He yawned and straightened after the coffee pot beeped.
Brett turned to him. “You need help?”
“You know how to handle a bottle? We had twin colts born last night. Looks like we’re doing twins this season, and it’s always the female that gives me trouble.” Rory glanced over to them, winking.
“Ha. Ha,” Cory said. “You know you love me.”
The kitchen door opened and a rush of bodies entered, along with two baby carriers. A profusion of colorful sweaters, leather jackets, and smiling faces. A whole lot of family. A chorus of “Morning” along with “Merry Christmas” rang out.
“Our family. Got to love ‘em since we can’t escape them.” She leaned over, sliding her hand along Brett’s fingers. “I think the kitchen will be fine if you want to go see what’s going on in the barn.”
“You sure?” he asked. “I’m not about t shirk my kitchen duties.”
Cory butted Brett with her hip. “If you’re serious about learning the basics of breeding, I suspect feeding colts is the place to start.”
“Hot damn!” Rory laughed and rang the dinner bell. “A recruit.”
“Not so fast,” Stephen scoffed. “Matt? You up for some early holiday barn work?”
Her oldest brother kissed his wife and his twin babies. “Hold down the fort.” He smacked Carolina playfully on the behind.
“We’ll try,” Carolina said.
Cory picked up her nephew wearing a tiny football jersey. “Hey, look at Matt Jr. He’s ready for the Super Bowl.”
“Thank your mother,” Carolina said. “Times two.”
“Let me see Isabella,” Gillian called out. “She’s seriously too cute in her jersey!”
She and Gillian each held a baby and flanked Carolina who announced, “Looks like we’re a team.”
“What’s all the fuss?” Miss Louisa asked, coming into the kitchen. “I smell coffee brewing.”
“I didn’t forget your secret ingredient.” Cory smiled over at Miss Louisa while her heart swelled with the chattering voices, banter, and laughter. The side door slammed and more footsteps were coming down the hall. She exchanged looks with Brett.
“I’ll be back in a flash.” His lips stretched into a heart-stopping grin.
Brett proclaimed next year, he had plans for their own ranch and for all Rory’s ornery ways, he was her one brother with tons of experience when it came to breeding horses…well, after Brandon. She wholly supported Brett’s ranching interest that included acquiring some quality quarter horses and starting out with a few head of cattle this spring. So long as his future included her, it was all good.
“Mmm, looks like we’ve got it covered. Go on.” She kissed him and stared up into his face, her heart beating a mile a minute. “Love you.”
“Love you back, cowgirl,” he whispered. “Always.”
~The End~
For now
If you enjoy a Bad Boy…try one of these best seller romances
Tempted by Trouble starts this series, featuring Matt and Carolina
Twice Tempted is the story of Cynthia and Rob
The Cowboy Rode a Harley
Yee Haw for the hot romance between Gillian and Stephen
In 2014 more BAD BOYS are coming your way
Enjoy Brandon McLemore’s Clarkesville adventures.
DOUBLE TROUBLE
Releasing Spring 2014
Stay tuned for BREAKING BAD,
where Rory learns the meaning of a four letter word: LOVE.
PLEASE if you or someone you love or know is experiencing learning difficulties, please check out the National Center for Learning Disabilities
http://ncld.org
Acknowledgements
NaNoWriMo…Girls’ Night Out came about during the 2013 NaNo endeavor.
If you need a push or support for writing, then take the dive in November and, really all year long. I NaNo…do you?
Barbara Gibbs. Thank you for your proofing of this book.
Silver Sprocket. The frosting.
With my sincere appreciation and thanks to Eric Hobbs, Sports Consultant. For question after question asked about football, and your patience in explaining the tenets and nuances of the game.
