by Jillian Neal
“What?! She’s crazy. You’re her daddy.”
“Melony’s already informed her of that. Apparently she’s gonna give the mayor some special flower-thing that goes on your tux, but your mama ain’t happy with that.”
“It’s called a boutonnière, and I swear I have no idea how you put up with her as long as you did.”
“I’ve never regretted the years I spent with your mama, Indie. It gave me my girls and that’s a gift no one else could’a given me. I do resent the fact that she wants to pretend all those years away. I resent that a whole lot.”
“And I’m guessing I’m gonna go to bat for you when she brings up this ridiculous idea to me and that’s why we’re gonna fight.”
“You know, Indie you don’t have to fight my battles for me, but that fact hadn’t ever stopped you from trying.”
“She makes me crazy.”
“I know that, too, baby girl.”
“She’s making Luke walk me down the aisle.” Indie cringed.
Her father’s hearty laughter simultaneously warmed her soul and caught her off guard. “What’s so funny?”
“Oh, just tickles me when fate shows her hand. Looks like maybe, just maybe, she’s holding all the aces this time.”
“Mama or Fate?”
“The fates, baby girl. Never stand in their way.”
“There’s no such thing as fate, Daddy. Life sucks and then you die.”
“Well, ain’t that a sunshiny forecast from my Indie? Fate’s there, whether you want to give her a nod or not. Tickles me that you swear she ain’t there while your mama’s playing the part of the lightning rod. One way or another, sweetheart, you’re gonna figure out that what you’re running from is what you should be running to. If that weren’t the case, why is my girl still running?”
Before Indie could argue, the soft neighs and snorts of the horses traveled on the wind to her ears. A broad grin replaced her father’s correctly predicted scowl on her face.
He chuckled. “Sounds like someone realized you’re home. You better go on and see ‘em.”
“Come with me.”
“Let me get this sealant on, and I’ll meet you at the barn.”
Indie took off to see her horses. Okay, so maybe there were a few good reasons to keep coming home. Romeo met her at the fence. He nuzzled her chest and then turned back towards the paddock, restless. His ears twitched and his tail was in constant motion. Something was wrong.
“Where’s Juliet, boy?”
He snorted. Worry troubled his coal black eyes. Indie could read horses almost as good as she could read cars, and infinitely better than she’d ever be able to understand her own mother.
Stroking down Romeo’s side, she headed towards the paddock. Juliet was standing near the barn with her right front hoof off of the ground.
“What’s wrong, girl?” Indie rushed to pull the chain attached to a single light bulb hung from the center of the barn. She checked Juliet’s leg and hoof, but didn’t see anything wrong. Her stomach churned as she searched for anything that might’ve caused her horse harm. It was a little early in the year for rattlers and there was nothing on Juliet’s leg to indicate a bite.
Her father joined her in the paddock.
“She won’t put her hoof on the ground.” Panic rose in her tone.
Furrowing his brow, Ben performed the same check Indie had already gone through. “She was fine this morning. All right, baby girl, you’re gonna have to tell me how you want to handle this. Seems fate ain’t messing around this time. You know who the local vet is. He’s the only one who’s gonna come all the way out here. We can load her up in the morning and take her into Ogallala to see Dr. Carrion if you really don’t want to call Luke.”
Indie considered. Luke played vet for all of the local farms around the Glen. He hadn’t finished his doctorate degree but made it all the way through his masters before he went back to ranching. He was darn good at it, too. He’d know what was wrong immediately and be able to fix it. His cool, steady hands put the animals at ease. She’d seen him work with his own cattle and the Camden Ranch horses long before he had any kind of degree. She didn’t want Juliet to have to go through being trailered and driven almost an hour away.
“It’s getting late. Might need to wait ‘til tomorrow morning either way. She don’t seem to agitated and is loving up on you.” Her father pointed out. Indie nuzzled Juliet’s mane and gave her a rubdown. She neighed happily, but still wouldn’t settle on her right hoof.
“Let’s see how she is tomorrow, then we’ll decide,” her father negotiated.
“No, I’ll find Luke. It’s fine. I want him to look at her tonight.”
“You do whatever you want, sweetheart. Tell him I said she was perfectly fine this morning. I rode her. No problems.”
Pleased to hear that, Indie begrudgingly checked the time on her phone. “I swore on my hex set that I’d meet Mel and Miranda for drinks. I’ll go out to the ranch if I don’t see Luke in town.”
“That sounds like a plan, but never swear on your hex set, Indie Jane. You know better, but since that’s the case, you better get. I’ll check Juliet again before I head in for the night.”
“Call me if she gets worse, or if you get lonely, or if you just wanna show me how much you love me and rescue me from my little sisters’ girl talk.”
“Get out of here, sunshine. You know your sisters love you.”
Chapter Four
Luke continued to call himself an idiot. Every time the door to Saddleback’s opened his heart leapt and hopeful expectation coupled with the liquor swirling in his stomach. He should have just gotten off of his ass and driven out to her daddy’s place. He knew that’s where she’d run to, and they had plenty to talk about.
Saddlebacks, the liquor-infused honky-tonk of Pleasant Glen, was full of cowboys and cowgirls looking to blow off a little steam that evening. The waitresses were pulling double-duty with the bartenders. An endless supply of food was being served up constantly, and there was a local band playing covers fast and furiously. Seemed everyone in a forty-mile radius sought out companionship that night.
Summer had come into town, picked up J.J., and dropped off Austin. Luke, Grant, Austin, and their cousin Brock were now seated at a table front and center.
Luke tried to keep up with conversation, but seeing Indie drive off yet again had scrambled his head. Why had she stopped, waved, and then left? She’d told Grant she wanted to see him. Well, he’d been standing right there.
A gnawing concern continued to eat at him. She had to have seen J.J. What if she thought he was his kid? What if she’d assumed he was married with a family now? He had to find her and tell her J.J. wasn’t his, but that she was. Regret continued to weight his every thought when it came to him and Indie. So many things he’d fucked up. So many things he desperately wanted the chance to fix.
“Can’t believe Summer let you out for the night,” Brock teased Austin.
“I think she’s sick of all of the testosterone she’s living in, plus she’s freaking exhausted. She took the boys to Mama and Daddy’s so she can get some sleep before Hank cries all damn night from them shots. I ain’t staying long. Plan on making a trip to my house before I pick up my kids, seein’ if maybe Summer might like to try and fail at making another one,” Austin laughed.
Luke shook his head, but before he could call his brother a dumbass, Melony and Miranda Harper entered the bar — and right behind them was none other than Indie.
Grant, Austin, and Brock’s laughter ended abruptly. Every Camden eye slid to Luke. A half-second later every single pair of eyes in the whole damn bar were on him. He swallowed down another sip of Crown and considered. She was there with her sisters. He had no claim as of yet, and that fact burned through him like a kerosene soaked fuse. He didn’t give a shit how long it had been. She was his.
He scooted his chair back, but remembered that it was high time he showed her a little patience. No more taking her like a man possess
ed. She needed a steady hand and they hadn’t exactly announced to the town that they’d been together more than a few times in the last decade or so. He was the sanity, even if seeing her drove him insane with need.
She leaned into a nearby booth. The tight vintage Ford t-shirt she was wearing cradled her cleavage perfectly. The hem pulled upwards and her low-slung Wranglers revealed the small of her back. Red satin panties played peek-a-boo with him for a split second. Damn, damn, damn if that sexy little peek didn’t have him so hard up he’d be aching for days.
Nothing more beautiful than his Indie in red lingerie, her favorite kind to wear, his favorite kind to see her in. She never had any time for makeup or the other ridiculous fussing that so many women insisted upon. No, his baby was naturally beautiful with long auburn hair the precise shade of the Maple leaves in the late fall, cool green eyes, and the most beautiful pink lips he’d ever seen.
As soon as the bandages had come off of her chest, she’d taken to wearing the fieriest red lingerie she could get her hands on. Femininity redefined. Screw the make-up, perfume, and pearls. His girl knew precisely how to make him ache, red satin and lace. His mouth watered. His palms burned to hold her against him, to cup her ample breasts in his hands, and brand her entire body until she remembered exactly who she was and who she belonged to.
“Ain’t Indieanna Harper lookin’ some kind’a gorgeous to-night,” Grant goaded.
Luke shot him a warning glare. He felt his biceps flex and his nostrils flare.
Austin smirked, getting in on the game. “Got them legs that go on for ten country miles.”
“And fuck me runnin’ if them curves weren’t built for speed. Look at ‘dat azz. Keep a man nice and warm all night long.” Grant waggled his eyebrows.
Luke’s eyes flared. “Don’t,” he commanded.
“She always was the whole damn bucket of chicken, wasn’t she?” Austin pitched.
“Hell yeah, all legs, thighs, and breasts.” Grant knocked the ball out of the park.
“I ain’t kidding. Shut the fuck up,” Luke snarled.
“Something’s gotta make one of you move. If it has to be me making you so jealous you can’t see to beat the shit outta me, so be it,” Grant continued to challenge. “Maybe I’ll ask her to dance.”
“Maybe I’ll beat the shit outta you just before I feed you your sac for breakfast.”
A low whistle slid between Grant’s teeth. “But you’re just gonna wait ‘til she comes running back to your bed instead of going after her this time, making this thing official, and convincing her with either the head on your shoulders or the one in your dirty blue jeans that she needs to stick around this time, right?”
“Uh, am I in danger of getting my ass whupped if I ask how she got less developed up top than the last time I seen her back in eighth grade?” Brock looked genuinely concerned he might be overstepping his bounds.
Luke tried to rein in his temper for his cousin’s sake, but the outrage over the very idea of Grant spinning Indie around the dance floor of Saddleback’s continued to sizzle through his veins.
Luke’s eyes sought hers with heated magnetism. This time she offered him a quick sweet grin and a half-wave. His heart swelled. She never smiled at anyone like that. She’d smirk, or scowl, or flip someone off if they were stupid enough to mess with her, but a sweet grin, she reserved those for people she cared about deeply.
Sighing, he supposed he should answer Brock’s question. “Everyone at school and practically everyone in this whole damn town were so awful to her about them, and her back and shoulders hurt all the time, so she had them reduced right after we graduated.”
It still killed him that what people thought affected her badly enough to make her go through surgery. It was yet another failing on his part. He’d obviously didn’t tell her or show her how stunningly beautiful she was often enough.
He watched her thank Aaron, one of the bartenders, for the Fireball he sat in front of her. Before he could make his way over to her, Adam Gentry, slimy fuck-whistle if ever there was one, asked her to dance.
Grant, Austin, and Brock all cringed. Luke stood, determination and gall armored in his drive. Indie shook her head and pushed Gentry back. Asswipe. His eyes still hadn’t raised above her tits, and he was effectively drooling in the shit sloshing out of his cup. Drunk bastard.
Indie leapt from her seat. Luke almost grinned. There was his fire. “Get the hell away from me, Adam! You’re drunk.”
“I just wanted a hug. Haven’t seen you … in like … long time,” Adam stumbled over his words. Luke shoved two other cowboys he didn’t know out of his way. Indie caught his eye and fury rocketed through every muscle in his body. Her fight was fierce. She appeared unaffected to everyone but him. He saw the fear playing in the depths of her eyes.
“Get the hell away from her, Gentry,” Luke’s low baritone voice thundered off the wood paneled walls of the bar.
Melony and Miranda turned to see him. Their mouths hung open stupidly for a half-second before they beamed and started dancing in their seats like sparklers on the Fourth of July.
“You heard him, Gentry. Get before you get gotten,” Austin sneered. He, Grant, and Brock were right behind Luke, ready to fight if it came to that. Family through and through.
Before Luke could process any of that, Gentry, in all of his drunken stupidity, leaned in. He kept his right hand reaching undeniably for Indie’s breasts. Luke dove for him, but Indie’s back hand reached him first and was equally effective in knocking Adam Gentry for several loops. He stumbled backwards, and Luke slid to the side to let him fall on his ass. He had someone far more important to catch. His arms wrapped around her, blocking her from view of the entire bar, cradling her in his strength and his love.
“I’ve got you, darlin’.”
“Geez, bitch, what the hell?” Adam started spewing as soon as he managed to get himself upright. Rage ignited in Luke. He turned and stared Adam down. Grant shoved Adam back in a booth as Brock and Austin bared down on him.
“You got exactly what you deserved. Now get the hell away from her. She ain’t fighting by herself anymore,” Luke snarled.
Luke’s vow somehow spoke directly to Indie’s soul. She clung to him fiercely, terrified to let go. Her heartbeat drummed in her ears. What was going to happen next? His chiseled jaw flexed against the top of her head. My God, the way he was holding her in a warm sanctuary of solid muscle was … perfect. Where had the sweet, gentle, boy she’d known gone? She tried to remember when his boyish charm had turned into this man that looked like he’d been dipped in pure sex appeal and carved with a chiseled blade. When had this fierce, dogged grit appeared? Somewhere in the last fifteen years when she’d been running away, he’d turned into a full-fledged cowboy. She’d been viewing him under the cover of darkness. Clearly, she’d been missing out.
Her pulse quickened as he ran his hands up and down her back, steadying her. Indie lifted her eyes to his. A storm of fire consumed their icy blue depths. The black t-shirt he was wearing clung to the chiseled muscles of his arms and chest, and the worn Wranglers covering his long legs had her licking her lips involuntarily as her gaze landed on his zipper line.
Suddenly, he captured her quick breaths with his mouth as he layered her body to his own. She tensed and then her body melted in to his. God, she’d needed this for so long. This sure as hell wasn’t a nice to see you kiss or even a wanna go get busy in my truck and never see each other again kiss. No, this was a declaration. He took her lips with more intensity than he’d ever packed in a kiss before. Before. She tried to remember the last time she’d been kissed. Never like this. Never with enough fire to brand her soul, not even with him.
Her entire body responded like a slot machine that had just rolled three cherries. His lips demanded her compliance. She moaned softly in his greedy mouth. Those hands of his, those massive hands, one braided in her long hair, the other cupped her ass.
Angling his head to take more of her, he nipped
her bottom lip and then sucked away the pain that left her breathless and aching for more. What the hell was he doing to her? The initial intensity waned slightly, and he softened his claim, making her needy.
His tongue coaxed the seam of her lips until she opened for him. The red-hot cinnamon of the fireball she’d been drinking mixed with the heat of his whiskey in a combustible explosion in her mouth.
Her hands fisted his t-shirt, worked up over his pecs, and then circled around his neck. She pulled him closer, running her fingers through his dark brown hair. God, this was so good. This … this was why she’d come home.
Her hips bumped readily into his, so anxious she was almost embarrassed by her own desperation. A low growl of approval vibrated against her tongue. When the entire bar broke out in wolf-whistles and applause, she pulled away, gasping for breath.
“Pretty sure you just announced to the whole damn town that we might’ve seen each other a time or two in the last fifteen years.” She couldn’t quite decide if that irritated her or not. She knew perfectly well that her pleading eyes, her nipples standing at attention and giving him a full salute, and the fact that she couldn’t take her hands off of him probably spoke much louder than her words anyway. “Just what exactly are you doing?” she finally demanded.
“What I should have done fifteen years ago. That wasn’t my kid you saw me with today. That’s Austin’s little boy. Let’s go. We need to talk.” Luke grabbed her hand and half-dragged her towards the door. She turned back to see her sisters, who she was effectively abandoning.
Melony gave her two-thumbs up and was grinning like she’d just won the lottery. Miranda raised her glass to Indie with an identical beaming grin. A lot of help they were.
Luke’s gait increased in speed, pulling Indie along. Her entire world tilted off its axis. She had never let anyone, even Luke, order her around like this. The fact that it turned her on more than anything she’d ever experienced in her thirty-two years of life only irritated her more.
