by Chloe Lang
She looked from her work and grinned. “Hey, fellows.”
Heath nodded. “Hi, Carol.”
“Hey,” Drake added.
“Guys, sit anywhere you like.”
Heath took a seat at one of the booths farthest from the bar.
She walked over to their booth with a definite flirty gait. “I’ve got a fresh pot of coffee about done. You two want some?”
“Something harder this morning.” Drake sat across from him. “Jack straight up.”
“Same here.”
Carol walked away, leaving the two brothers alone.
The guilt that had been with him since bedding Gabby was heightened whenever Heath was around one of his younger brothers. He’d fucked up. Sure, he’d had good intentions, but that didn’t matter. He’d lost his brothers, but even more than that, his actions had driven a wedge between the six of them, dividing them into what most didn’t ever see—two warring sets of brothers.
Best to face the music head-on. “Drake, do you love her?”
“You already know the answer to that.” His younger brother’s eyes narrowed. “Isn’t that why you’re fucking up my life again?”
Like a guilt-seeking missile, Drake’s words hit him straight in the gut, detonating the ancient pain inside Heath.
Carol came back, carrying their drinks. “Here you go, fellows. Want to start a tab?”
Drake didn’t acknowledge her, fixing him with an accusing stare.
Heath looked up at her. “A tab would be great. We’re going to need a few of these.”
She cocked her hip to one side, sliding her hand down her waist. “Seems like you two need someone to listen to your troubles. I wouldn’t mind helping you out.”
“No,” he stated in his most Dom voice. Carol, despite her puppy dog pretense, was a pain-slut regular at The Master’s Chambers, so he knew she would respond to direct orders better than some vague request. “Make yourself scarce, now. We’ll let you know when we need more.”
Her too-thin lips curled up, making her overpainted face look even horsier. Then Carol snapped to attention. “Yes, Sir.”
When the woman was out of earshot, Heath turned back to Drake, who was still glaring at him.
Heath grabbed up his glass with the liquid amber and downed it in one swallow. The burn down his throat helped him to focus his thoughts. How to make Drake understand that he wanted to renew what they’d lost so long ago because of what he’d done with Gabby?
“If we can let the past go, I think we have a chance—”
Drake pounded the table with his fist. “A chance for what, Heath?”
If he had even a razor-thin chance of convincing his brother to come on board with his idea, now was the time to come clean.
“Drake, just hear me out.”
“Why the fuck should I? You’ve done it again. You’ve wormed your way into Charly’s bed.”
“Give me a chance to explain.”
“Hell no.” Drake leaned across the table. “You think I will ever be able to trust you after all that has happened between us?
“You mean the Gabby incident?”
“Don’t try to be fucking evasive with me, Heath. You may be the master manipulator in town, but I have your number. In fact, I’ve had a clear view of what kind of brother you are ever since I walked in on you screwing my fiancée. That kind of betrayal doesn’t just go away.”
“I know. I just wanted to show you guys what a gold digger she was, Drake. That’s all.”
“Well, it worked really well. Good for you, bro. Can you imagine how that made the three of us feel?”
“What’s it going to take to get you to trust me again, Drake?”
“Nothing comes to mind. Too bad you don’t have a time machine to stop yourself from fucking Gabby.”
Right or wrong, Heath knew what he’d done had worked. Gabby was out of his younger brother’s lives for good. He’d do it again. “I did what I had to do. Any chance we can fix this between us?”
Drake cocked his head to the side. “Way too late for that, bro.”
Of course he was right, but that didn’t stop him from hoping for forgiveness. “I know it is. But is it too late for us to…for me…to make amends?”
“I don’t know, Heath.” The edge in his tone softened a bit, which gave Heath a peek at the light at the end of the impossibly long tunnel.
“I miss you guys, Drake. I miss my brothers.”
“I do, too.” He sighed. “Fuck, Heath. Maybe you can fix things with Dax and me, but Seth is another story. Dax and I were on the fence with Gabby, but Seth…well, he was in deep. You crushed him that night.”
Heath tightened his jaw. He was glad Gabby was gone. She’d been bad news from the start, but the younger brothers had been incapable of hearing the truth. The only solution he could come up with was to show them. Foolishly, he’d thought their brotherly bond would be unshakeable and that once the dust had settled, things would go back to normal. They hadn’t. In fact, the younger three brothers had delivered their own brand of retribution. Incorrectly thinking that Tobias and Nate had a part in the Gabby betrayal, the three had seduced Felicia, the woman the older brothers had been sharing back then. Strongs had a natural inclination for stubbornness and havoc.
“But what does this have to do with Charly?”
“Drake, I love her, too.”
“Then we have a much bigger problem, bro.” He lifted his glass and drank every drop of his whiskey. “I am not going to give her up, and I bet you won’t either.”
“What if neither of us had to give her up?”
Drake’s eyebrows shot up. “How’s that even possible?”
“I’ve given that a lot of thought. I’ve come up with a plan that will give us the woman of our dreams and gives me back my brothers.”
“You’d need a miracle for that.”
“I have one. Her name is Charly Wynn.”
Chapter Two
Dax rode his horse, Tuxedo, along his favorite stream on the ranch Drake, Seth, and he would own one day.
“Good boy.” He patted his ride’s muscled neck.
The open spaces suited Dax. Wilde was a small town, but for him, it was actually too big. Riding under clear, crisp skies, he felt most like himself in the saddle on his black-and-white paint. Together, he and Tuxedo had covered every inch of this land many times. Repairing fences, moving livestock, hunting, fishing, or running off poachers suited him just fine. Whatever reason or excuse he could find, Dax always jumped at the chance to get out here.
Today’s reason was about a possible trespasser.
The tracks he was investigating were not from an animal’s paws. They were human. That wouldn’t have been strange if the prints had been from boots—cowboy or hiking—but they weren’t either.
Who the hell would be way out here in athletic shoes? Not poachers, at least not smart poachers.
Spotting the last set of tracks, he pulled on the reins. The ground here was rocky, so he’d have to pick up the prints upstream by the ancient pine trees that his dads dubbed “The Three Sisters.” Still rocky, but more dirt to disturb than right here.
This wasn’t the first time someone wandered onto one of the Strong ranches. One of the little-traveled county roads bordered some of the northern parts of the property. A young couple from New York were the last foolish travelers he’d rescued. They’d rented a Winnebago for their honeymoon and decided to take a detour onto the ranch. When he’d found them, they were out of water, out of gas, and at each other’s throats.
I wonder if they are still together. Not a big believer in forever, he doubted it.
Dax had come from the south, leaving his truck and Tuxedo’s horse trailer by the stock tank back there. Other than small ATVs, vehicles weren’t the best mode of transportation here.
“I hope we find whoever left these tracks alive, Tux.”
The horse’s ears perked up. Someone was coming.
Dax pulled his Beretta .45 Colt out o
f its holster. Once he heard the sound of a horse galloping toward him from the south, he holstered his weapon again. Whoever was approaching was family or friend, not the trespasser he was tracking.
Drake, his twin, came into view. “Hey, bro. Dads told me you were checking on something out here. What’s up?”
“Found some tracks.”
“Likely some halfwits again.”
“That’s what I’m thinking, though I’ve only found one set of tracks. Might just be one halfwit. Size-eleven athletic shoes.”
“Unbelievable. Male, obviously.” Drake took off his hat and wiped his brow.
“Or a woman who would be a perfect match for Sasquatch.”
His twin raised an eyebrow. “You’re not doing it again? You need to give Pete a break, Dax.”
Drake was referring to his ongoing practical joke on the man who owned the local casino and was the only resident minister of Wilde.
“And why should I? It’s too much fun. Besides, who knows if Bigfoot isn’t wandering around our land?” Dax burst into laughter. God, he loved pulling pranks, especially on Pete. The guy deserved some payback, after all.
“If I ever find what you use to make those tracks, I’m going to burn it.”
“But you’ll never find it, Drake. So, why are you here? Are our dads checking up on me?”
“No. Got a favor to ask of you.”
“Spill it.”
“I’m going to Texas to look at some cattle our dads are thinking about buying.”
“Go. Seth and I can handle things here.”
“I know the two of you can handle the ranch.” His twin sighed, which was unusual. “But that’s not what favor I need. I want you to keep an eye on Charly for me while I’m gone.”
Charly Wynn. The girl had twisted Drake into a pretzel. He was gone on her. Dax couldn’t blame him. Ever since the night Drake, Seth, and he shared Charly, Dax couldn’t get her out of his mind.
“Done.”
“I’m serious, Dax. Heath took her to Malibu.” Something in the way Drake was acting didn’t sit right with him.
Still, Dax wasn’t about to let the older three get an advantage with Charly. She was too sweet, too kind, and fucking sexy as hell. “I’ll do it. I won’t let her out of my sight, Drake.”
* * * *
Charly stared at her cell by her half-eaten breakfast of egg whites and wheat toast. Since Heath and Drake had left, there’d been no word from either of them, which crushed her heart. They’d done what she’d asked and left. Now, she regretted it, though it was the best course for all of them.
Instead of longing for a call from Heath or Drake, she should get back on track with her plan for Malibu. That thought only added to her anxiety. Though she’d been told it could be up to four or five days before she heard back from the hiring manager, Charly expected to hear sooner. She’d been happy with the interview, leaving it really confident that the job offer would be coming soon. But no call had come. Patience wasn’t something that came easy for her.
Carlotta walked up with a pot of coffee. “Vould you like me to top you off, my dear?” Her accent was endearing, though one couldn’t quite place its origin.
Norma’s was quieter than she’d seen it before. In fact, she was the only customer in the place. She guessed that was probably normal for the diner since it was past ten in the morning on a weekday.
Charly covered her cup with her hand. “No thanks. I didn’t know you waited tables, too.”
“De gal scheduled for dis shift has a sick kid to deal vith. So, here I am. Vant some company?” The woman sat without waiting for an answer. “Better. My feet, dey are killing me. You look sad, child. Vat’s troubling you?”
“Nothing.”
“My dear, your eyes are swollen from crying, I bet. Talk to me.”
“I need to buy some better makeup.”
The woman smiled. “Charly, you look great to the untrained.”
Besides her so-called psychic talents, Carlotta’s observation skills were clearly better than most.
“I’m waiting on a call about a job. Just a bit jumpy about it, that’s all,” Charly lied.
Carlotta’s eyes narrowed. “Very odd.”
“What?”
“That you vould lie to me, Nevada’s most-renowned mind reader and fortune-teller.”
Charly laughed. “I suppose that was foolish.”
“And not da most foolish ding you’ve done since arriving in Vilde, I bet.”
Images of Heath and Drake in her hotel room flashed in Charly’s mind. “Keep this up, and you’re going to make a believer out of me, Carlotta.”
“I can see by your aura how heavy your heart must be.” She patted the back of Charly’s hand. “You’re stronger dan you dink, my dear.”
“Far from it. I’m only brave when I feel safe. When I don’t, I’m a total mess.”
The glass door opened, jingling the bell.
Charly looked in the direction of the entrance and saw Drake entering the cafe. Her breath hitched in her lungs, and her heart raced in her chest.
He looked directly at her and then headed straight to her booth. She frowned as she watched the man’s steps. He wasn’t Drake, whose gait was more meandering and casual. The cowboy marching her way was Dax, his twin. The memory of being with him, Drake, and Seth came into focus in the back of her mind. She looked down at her cell, trying to will her trembles away. The last thing she needed was another Strong brother to deal with.
“Come by de liquor store tomorrow, my dear.” Carlotta stood up. “You need anoder reading in da vorst vay.”
“Hello, ladies.” Dax tipped his cowboy hat.
“Sit anyvhere you like.” Carlotta waved her arm at the empty restaurant.
His lips curled up into a way-too-sexy grin. “I’ll sit with Charly.”
“Dat’s one less table for me to clean, if she doesn’t mind.” The woman’s eyebrow shot up.
“Fine with me, but I’m not staying much longer.” Why was her body reacting to Dax’s proximity with shivers and warmth? Because “crazy” was her middle name, of course.
Dax scooted into the booth opposite her. “Where are we headed today, sweetheart?”
“We’re not headed anywhere.” I don’t need another Strong to get inside my head or my heart.
He grabbed her hand, and her heart skipped a beat. “That’s not quite right, kitten. I’m your shadow until Drake comes back from Texas.”
“Don’t call me ‘kitten,’ please.” Charly smiled at the cowboy and pulled her hand free of his grasp.
“Sure.” He leaned back in the booth. “How about ‘pet,’ ‘doll,’ ‘sugar,’ ‘baby,’ ‘angel,’ ‘cutie pie,’ or the oldie but goodie ‘honey-bunch.’”
She couldn’t help but laugh. “You’re too much.”
“I have a whole list, hot stuff. Shall I go on?” He grinned.
“You are the mischievous one of the six of you. Isn’t that right, Dax?” She looked down at her cup but didn’t take a sip. The little coffee left in it had to be cold. “‘Charly’ works fine.”
“Then we agree. Kitten it is.”
She frowned but actually liked how the word vibrated off his lips. Rather than seeming derogatory, his tone sounded kind and affectionate. “At least it’s better than ‘cutie pie.’”
Dax rubbed his chin. “Maybe I should reconsider my pet name for you.”
“Please don’t. I can live with ‘kitten’ if you must.”
“Oh, kitten. I must. I very much must.”
Charly’s cell buzzed. She looked at the screen, and her heart leapt in her chest. The number she saw was from Malibu.
“Everything okay, Charly?” Dax asked, clearly concerned.
“Shh. It’s about a job.” She clicked the “talk” button. “Hello. This is Charly Wynn,” she said in the most professional-sounding tone she could voice.
“Hello, Charly. This is Doctor Gayle Swenson.”
Charly crossed the fingers of her free
hand that wasn’t holding the phone. “Hello, Dr. Swenson. I’m glad to hear from you.” With this call coming so soon after her interview, she hoped the job was already hers. “How may I help you?”
“Let me get right to it. I hate to be the one to tell you, but the position is no longer available.”
Her eyes welled with tears, but she held them at bay. “I’m sure you had some amazing candidates. I appreciate—”
“Charly, we didn’t hire anyone new for the job.”
“I don’t understand.” Her mind spun with a slew of worry.
Dax moved to her side of the booth and put his arm around her. His eyes narrowed, letting her know he was more than a little concerned.
“The person who was vacating the position has decided to stay another year before retiring.”
Charly felt her panic take a seat in the middle of her gut. “I see.”
The Center shouldn’t have asked for the interview until they were certain they had a job to offer. Now almost broke, her car still in the shop, and her mother’s bills piling up, she was all out of options.
“Her husband was laid off from his job, so retiring isn’t possible at this time for Sally.” Dr. Swenson seemed to be justifying their screwup.
She wanted to scream and call Dr. Swenson a complete and utter bitch. But on the slim chance this Sally person might change her mind or get hit by a bus, she didn’t. “I understand.”
“I’m so sorry that this went as far as it did, Charly. You were the top of our list. We would like to keep your resume on file in case another position comes available at the Center. That is, if you don’t mind.”
Charly knew that would be a long shot. The Thompson and Carlton Renewal Center didn’t have openings often. “Thank you. That would be great.”
Dr. Swenson said a few more things that Charly could barely register. Her world had just collapsed. Continuing to sound enthusiastic for the BS the doc was feeding her wasn’t going to last a second longer.
“Dr. Swenson, thank you for letting me know.” Trembling, Charly was grateful for Dax’s encouraging squeezes. Rather than prolong the conversation with the good doc, she lied, “I’ve got an appointment in five minutes. I’ll be in touch.”
