Angie's Destiny [Cattleman's Club 8] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting)

by Jenny Penn

  “I would do anything to prove it to you,” he swore and knew he’d just caught a break when Kristen straightened up and eyed him curiously.

  “Anything?”

  “Anything.”

  “Then you won’t mind attending church with me and my parents this weekend.” Kristen smiled brilliantly, but Brandon suddenly saw a trap widening beneath his feet.

  “Uh…yeah, about that.” Brandon breathed out a deep breath and silently cursed Dylan. “I’ve already been invited.”

  “What?” Kristen frowned.

  “Dylan, he…uh, kind of met your parents for tea and⎯”

  “He did what?” The force of her indignation had Kristen actually lifting out of her seat. “How dare he!”

  “He was just trying to help me out,” Brandon tried desperately to explain.

  “You don’t understand,” Kristen snapped as she fell back into her seat, her elbows hitting the table and her hands catching her head as she moaned. “My mom’s going to have me engaged to that jerk by the end of the week!”

  Brandon blinked in that complaint and, for some reason, couldn’t help smiling. That would teach Dylan to get involved in his business. Brandon could almost see it now, and it was funny as hell.

  “Well, I’m glad to see my impending doom amuses you,” Kristen muttered as she glared balefully across the table at him.

  “No.” Brandon shook his head. “But Dylan’s impending doom does.”

  That had Kristen’s head lifting out of her hands as she straightened up, a hint of hurt glinting in her eyes. “You consider marriage to me to be impending doom?”

  “No, but I consider being henpecked by your mother to be a nightmare that Dylan roundly deserves to suffer.” Brandon met her gaze with a snicker. “Don’t you?”

  For the first time, they shared a smile. Then Brandon dared to press his luck and reach out to cover her small hands with his as he sobered up.

  “I really am sorry about what happened at Duncan’s party. I didn’t mean for things to get that out of control, but you just have this effect on me.”

  Kristen blushed, a hopeful glimmer rekindling in her eyes. “Really?”

  “Really, but that’s no excuse.” Brandon took a deep breath, willing himself to relax, as it seemed he was finally making progress. “You deserve better, and I would be honored to escort you to church.”

  Kristen blinked and shyly looked down at the table as she began in a hesitant voice. “You know, some of my friends and I are going dancing on Saturday down at the Strut in Dothan. Have you ever been there?”

  “No, I can’t say that I have, but I love to dance.” Especially if that meant having a chance to hold her close once again.

  “Maybe you’d like to join us, and, um, we could even get some dinner first.” Kristen glanced up from beneath her lashes to offer up that hopeful sounding suggestion, and Brandon felt his heart melt. She really was sweet, and so much fun to tease.

  “Why, Miss Kristen, are you asking me out on a date?”

  Chapter 10

  Saturday, May 17th

  Kristen was still blushing two days later as she stared at herself in the mirror. She couldn’t believe she was going on a date. An actual date! And she’d been the one to ask the guy out. It was as if she was a whole new woman.

  A whole new woman that had a date with a very attractive deputy.

  Kristen couldn’t help but sigh as her thoughts turned back to Brandon. She called him that in the privacy of her own mind, daring to dream of him in ways that were all too sinful to be repeated. That didn’t stop her from quivering with a rush of delight as she thought one day, maybe, they might come true. One day she just might let him kiss her again.

  Not tonight, though. That would be moving too fast, and Kristen had already decided she wasn’t going to make that mistake again. That reserve got tested when Deputy Hammel arrived looking fresh, pressed, and bearing flowers. His shaggy hair was combed and the smooth line of his jaw completely hairless.

  He was a handsome devil with that sparkle in his eyes and the grin that assured her he was liking what he saw, too. Kristen didn’t dare to allow her gaze to wander, not like he did. She blushed as he took a slow, long look. The warmth in his gaze made her stomach quiver as a rush of pleasure flooded her senses, and felt more than her cheeks heating beneath his look.

  “You sure are beautiful, Miss Kristen,” the deputy drawled out as he shook his head and lifted his smoldering gaze back up to meet hers. “And I’m going to be the envy of every man we pass tonight.”

  “Why, Deputy Hammel, I do believe you are trying to sweet talk me,” Kristen teased him, unable but to melt beneath his praise.

  “I think you can call me Brandon tonight,” he stated with a heat in his tone that sent a shiver down her spine.

  Kristen swallowed hard and nodded. “Okay. Brandon.”

  “Very good. Oh, these are for you.” He thrust the flowers clutched in his fist out to her, and she could tell they were freshly cut and couldn’t help but cast him a quick smile.

  “They’re lovely,” Kristen assured him as she took the unwrapped stalks from his hand. “But I’m wondering if there is there some old lady out there you sweet talked into letting you pluck her garden?”

  “No old lady,” Brandon swore. “These came from my own garden.”

  “You grow flowers?” That had Kristen pausing to glance up at him in surprise. She never would have thought of him as the type.

  “I prefer to say I enjoy gardening and keeping a well-kept lawn.” Brandon’s grin grew as he cast a wink at her. “Sounds a little more manly, don’t you think?”

  Kristen laughed at that and nodded. “Definitely more manly. Why don’t you come on in while I go put these into water?”

  “Thank you.” He accepted her invitation, following her into the house and shutting the door behind him as Kristen headed for the kitchen and a vase.

  There were no vases, only glasses, but they’d do. Kristen pulled one down as Gwen appeared, dressed for one of her meetings. She scowled at the flowers lying on the counter as she pulled open the fridge to pull out the six-pack of hard cider she had stored there.

  “Where did those come from?”

  “Deputy Hammel,” Kristen responded primly. “We’re going on a date.”

  She hadn’t told her cousin about her date and hoped to avoid her altogether tonight, not wanting to be reminded of why this was a bad idea or how gullible she might be. Kristen had a made a choice. She was going to give the man and these feelings a chance. She owed that much to herself.

  Thankfully, Gwen didn’t have anything rude to say. Not to her. She just snorted and headed out to the living room as Kristen fluffed her flowers up in their new makeshift vase and began filling the glass with water.

  The rumble of the faucet couldn’t drown out the conversation taking place in the living room, and Kristen couldn’t help but cock her head and listen in, even though she knew it was wrong to eavesdrop.

  “Gwen.” There was distinct distaste in the deputy’s tone.

  “Brandon,” Gwen shot back just as sharply. “What’s with the look?”

  “You tried to screw me over.” Brandon didn’t hold back, and Kristen found herself drawn to the kitchen door as she strained to hear every word.

  “What are you bitching about?”

  “You knew I had nothing to do with that stupid competition. That was all Duncan, and you just had to go and run your mouth, didn’t you?”

  “Kristen had a right to know.”

  “Bullshit,” Brandon shot back before shocking Kristen with the accusations that he laid at her cousin’s feet. “You’re just jealous, aren’t you? You know Kristen is a true diamond, and all you are is a sack of well-used coal.”

  “Jealous?” Gwen sounded honestly outraged by that suggestion. “Please. I haven’t got the time to waste.”

  “Not even for the sheriff?”

  “Screw you, Brandon.”

  “You know he
’s in love with Heather Lawson.”

  “That pudgy stick in the mud won’t be able to keep him.”

  Gwen attacked, proving that Brandon had hit the nail on the head. She was in love with the sheriff. Who would have ever figured wild-child Gwen would fall for a straight arrow?

  “She already has him…and he’s already had you. Guess you just weren’t worth keeping, huh?”

  Kristen frowned, unnerved by the harshness of Brandon’s tone. If her cousin was in love and heartbroken, then it was a sad state of affairs, and nobody should taunt her over it. That wasn’t right.

  “That’s quite enough out of you, Deputy Hammel.” Kristen stepped around the corner and stepped up for a very shocked Gwen. She wasn’t any less surprised than Brandon, who reddened, hopefully in shame.

  “Kristen⎯”

  “I’m sorry, sir, but I can’t allow you to continue to belittle and insult my cousin.”

  “I didn’t mean⎯”

  “You most certainly did.” Kristen cut him off as she stormed across the room to latch onto the front door handle and wrench it open while both Brandon and Gwen continued to gape at her. “Now, I think you should leave.”

  “But…but…our date?” Brandon sputtered, sounding suspiciously panicked.

  “Is over,” Kristen told him definitively and then nodded toward the outside. “So go on. Get.”

  * * * *

  “Get. She told me to get!” Brandon looked across the bar at Riley, who stared back without a single hint of an expression. “And dumbass that I am, I got! What the fuck is with that? I mean, really, I’m letting this woman turn me into a complete pussy. Dylan’s right. I’m not in charge here, am I?”

  The big bartender sighed.

  “And, God help me, if the guys down at the station house ever hear about this, it’ll be get, get, get, get, all damn fucking day long. They’ll never shut up. Do you know what it’s like to have to listen to same damn story over and over again?”

  That had Riley smirking.

  “Yeah, I know, you’ve probably heard it all before. So, you got any advice?”

  “Yeah. Order something.”

  Brandon shot him a dirty look for that uncompassionate response and reached for his wallet.

  “Beer me. No. Never mind that. Whiskey me.” Brandon slapped a fifty onto the countertop as he met Riley’s gaze. “And leave the bottle.”

  That had the man rolling his eyes, but he did as told, snatching up the fifty and making no change. Brandon didn’t care. He didn’t even notice. He was still stuck on shocked.

  This was supposed to be a perfect night. He was going to charm Kristen, dance with her, and then, at the very end, go in for another kiss. Instead, he had to call Dylan and confess that he’d screwed everything up again. It hadn’t helped that his friend hadn’t seemed surprised.

  He hadn’t volunteered to come hang out with Brandon either, which left him sitting there alone drinking until all three Davis brothers piled into the bar, leading a small group of hands in. The boisterous group took up position at the pool tables in back while Devin, the youngest of the Davis brothers, cut a beeline for the bar.

  “Hey, Brandon.” Devin greeted him a hard slap on the back. “How’s it going?”

  That had Brandon turning his brooding gaze from the bottom of his glass up toward Devin’s questioning gaze. “I’m sitting here drinking whiskey by myself. How do you think it’s going?”

  “That bad, huh?” Devin asked as he nodded to Riley. “Three pitchers, man, lots of cups.”

  “Sure thing,” Riley nodded before pausing to look pointedly at Brandon’s whiskey bottle. It was almost half gone, and he wasn’t relinquishing the rest of it. Brandon made that clear as he reached out to pull it closer.

  “So…” Devin plunked down in the seat beside him, not taking the hint when Brandon returned his gaze to the bottom of his glass. “I’m going to take a guess and say this is about a girl.”

  “Kristen Harold.” Brandon nodded, knowing there was no point in staying silent. Devin wasn’t one to let up.

  “Never heard of her.”

  “She’s new in town.” Brandon glanced over at Devin. “She’s Gwen Harold’s cousin.”

  “Gwen Harold. Oh, man, you are in trouble.” Devin shook his head sadly as Riley began to pile the pitchers up on the bar.

  “Don’t I know it.” Brandon sighed. “I was supposed to go to church with her and her parents tomorrow. Going to make a good impression and all that, and then I blew it by running my mouth at Gwen. Jesus, I’m an idiot.”

  “Aren’t we all at some point?” Devin countered. “And really? Church?”

  Brandon understood the doubt in the other man’s tone and shared a look with him. “Kristen is a good girl.”

  “Is that right?” Devin seemed to consider that for a moment. “Okay, here is what you do. Show up for church. If she’s that good, she won’t make a scene there.”

  That was a good point, but Brandon didn’t know where it was going when Devin pulled his stool up a little closer and breathed a little too near Brandon’s ear.

  “Then you make sure you get seated next to her, real close, and take her hand and just gently rub her palm with your thumb and⎯”

  “Dude!” Brandon leapt backward, coming off his stool the second Devin tried to take his hand and show him what he meant. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

  “Giving you good advice and getting your sorry ass out of that seat,” Devin shot back as he slid off his own stool to pick up the pitchers Riley had slid in front of him. “Now grab the cups and come join us. Moping and drinking alone isn’t going to do you any good.”

  * * * *

  Dylan certainly wasn’t moping around or drinking alone. He had no interest in joining Brandon for either of those events. Instead, he headed out to Dothan to right the ship Brandon had tried to sink once again. The man was on a roll, a downward slide, and Dylan wasn’t going to take that trip.

  Whatever had happened in the bakery, he was sure it had been a fluke. He had his head right on his shoulders now, Dylan assured himself, as he turned into the Strut. He was early, but he figured Kristen couldn’t accuse him of following her if he was there first.

  Taking up a spot at the bar, he waited damn near two hours for the place to fill up and Kristen and her friends to show up. During that time, Dylan received quite a few invitations from the young and the available, but he passed them all by, remaining rooted in his spot.

  He wasn’t about to screw things up by having Kristen walk in and find him dancing with another woman. He knew he’d made the right call the moment he saw Kristen come through the door. Damn but she looked pretty tonight.

  She was dressed, as always, in a modest outfit that complemented her slender frame. Dylan admitted that she wasn’t really his type as he sat there studying her. He liked big boobs, a round ass, and legs that made a man weak, but for some reason, he couldn’t seem to tear his gaze away from Kristen.

  She moved with such grace and smiled with such joy it was like watching a bolt of sunlight drift through a room, and he just wanted to reach out and be warmed by that heat. Dylan’s heart began to do that strange thing again where it pounded a little too hard. Damn if his hands weren’t growing damp. He was nervous and about to break out in a sweat.

  How very unattractive was that?

  He needed to get a hold of himself. He was here on a mission. To that end, he stayed seated, giving himself the time to study his prey and manage his reaction to her. That last one was harder than the first. Dylan’s gaze tracked Kristen’s every movement, and he found himself smiling when she smiled, feeling lighter when she laughed and annoyed when men came up to hit on her.

  With her light-colored sundress and her hair all curled, Kristen was attracting every lowlife in the bar. Thankfully, she was also turning them all down, dancing only with her friends. Kristen really was a good girl, and God how Dylan ached to corrupt her.

  Physically ached. He cou
ldn’t remember the last time he’d been so aware of his balls, but they were boiling, and his dick was throbbing. It was just lust he told himself, just lust, and the sooner he got Kristen naked and moaning beneath him, it would done. He could fuck this need right out of himself and go back to being happy.

  Right then Dylan was far from happy. In fact, he was downright miserable, and he knew the cure. Finally lifting off his seat, he carried his beer and cut across to the table Kristen and her friends had taken. They’d settled back down when the music had turned from an upbeat honky-tonk rhythm back to a slow melody that invited the warm press of two bodies. Dylan knew who he wanted to press up against.

  “Ladies.” He nodded to the table at large, casting quick glance across the group that fell awkwardly silent as his gaze finally landed on Kristen. “You’re looking lovely tonight.”

  “Hmm.” Kristen eyed him, making that same non-committal sound her father had and addressing him with a good deal of similar skepticism. “Deputy Singer. What a surprise.”

  “Hopefully a pleasant one.” He offered her a little smile, daring her to be rude and tell him it wasn’t.

  “That remains to be seen,” Kristen murmured less than charitably. “What can I do for you, Deputy?”

  “I’m just looking for a dance.”

  “Hmm.”

  “I swear,” he vowed as he held out his hand to her. “Just one dance and you’ll be done with me.”

  “Somehow I doubt it.”

  But that didn’t stop her from putting her hand in his or allowing him to lead her out to the dance floor. Dylan was vainly aware that he was the first man she’d said yes to. The only man. That thought filled him with a strange warmth that only bloomed hotter as he turned to sweep Kristen up in his arms.

  She was such a little thing and tucked in perfectly against him as he wrapped his arms around her waist and lost himself in the smooth perfect sway of her body against his. Nothing had ever felt so right before, and he was in serious trouble.