Triple K Set

by Beck, J. L.

  Maggie thought it was a real sweet gesture and she didn’t want to hurt his feelings, seeing how he looked so smitten by her. She took it and smiled at him.

  His cheeks turned a true plum color as his gaze dropped down to his boots.

  Maggie giggled and tipped the glass to gulp the drink down. She drained the glass in nearly one big swallow.

  His eyes were back on her and they grew wide.

  Oh boy, he probably thinks I’m unladylike, but damn…I don’t care! She’d had back-to-back dances for more than 2 hours straight and fought off being fondled, handled, groped and grabbed for nearly the entire time. She glanced over at the cowboy. “I’m sorry, but I was parched!” She laughed.

  The smitten cowhand grinned and looked as if he struggled with something, like he intended to ask something.

  Oh no, don’t ask me, no. I can’t dance another step!

  “Would you like to—?”

  “No. She’s all booked up.”

  Maggie sucked in her breath at the sound of Jet’ voice. Her gaze shot over to see him standing next to the kid cowboy.

  Gosh darnit! Did he have to stand side-by-side right up next the other man? Jet stood at least 5 inches taller, 5 inches wider, hell—5 inches as in a hundred miles more glorious all the way around. Everything about him… outshone the poor kid in every way possible. His eyes sparkled with some amused secret, his tanned face just looked so smooth and kissable while his smile dazzled— Bedazzled would be a better word for it, Maggie reminded herself with a grim reality.

  DAMN HIM!

  Jet grinned, but his smile didn’t quite reach his eyes now. He looked serious, hell-bent on something—about something. He stepped forward and offered her his arm. “Maggie and I have something important to discuss.”

  Maggie stared at him. Mmm, I wonder what angle he’s playing now? She narrowed her eyes at him. The kid, Billy, Bobby, Flobby? He seemed to instantly disappear as she looked and he suddenly wasn’t there at all. She felt a bit relieved ’cause all he did was make Jet look so much more magnificent… And damnit all, she couldn’t have any more of that going on. It’d been hard enough all day to resist him as it was.

  He placed his palms up at her in a defensive manner. “I just wanna talk, no passes, no…funny stuff!”

  Maggie stared at him for another full minute, hands on her hips with her eyes narrowed.

  Jet’ usual confident expression faded to unsure now, as the minute turned into yet another.

  Satisfied that he was, as Daisy put it, ‘hoppin’ on one foot’, Maggie stepped forward and looped her arm with his. “Okay…I’m up for it, if you are!” She let out a boisterous laugh.

  Looking surprised, he blinked his eyes at her sort of odd response, then smiled slightly as he led her away from the dancing quad.

  CHAPTER TWENY-SIX

  “There are more big things waitin’ for you, if you play your cards right.”

  DAISY

  Meanwhile, back at the Stud Ranch…

  Daisy grabbed the suitcase she’d hastily packed before when Rand first showed up and she tried to run. With shaky hands, she flung it open. She intended to handle this situation with him in the same way as she always had…RUN! She stared at what she’d shoved in there before. Lifting out three bras, one sock, along with a corset and a garter belt—her face flushed. Well, where the hell did she think she’d been going, to the strip show hall of fame hotel? I’d packed nothing but underwear and no clothes! She then remembered why she’d been packing. HIM! No fucking wonder all I packed was lingerie!

  Daisy stomped her foot. Where’s my backbone? Where’s the woman who raised her daughter on her own while snubbing her nose at the disapproving populace of Flatonia? The one who forged her own business by peddling hot-bodied men to desperate southern women? Sighing, she dropped the suitcase and sat on her bed. That Daisy disappeared the minute she saw Rand Monroe’s beautiful face, strapping bod and that dazzling smile again. “Damnit all to hell!” she shouted. “I ain’t gonna run no more!”

  Her eyes narrowed. He’s up to something diabolical and it can’t be just to fix something they shoulda done all those years ago. She knew by the way she dumped him and ran away twice in their illustrious love affair, that it couldn’t be a good ole happy ending for her. He says he aims to marry me… Her lips firmed into a thin line. Well, gall darnit! I am gonna do this gig up as big as Texas. Maybe then, he’ll be surprised enough to let his hand slip. Yeah, she knew it was nothing but a desperate bluff, but she needed some upper ground in this game.

  Daisy Plush squared her shoulders, grabbed her cell phone and hit the buttons.

  A couple of hours later, Daisy was pacing back and forth. Where did he disappear to? He’d left hours ago and she’d had time to hire the caterers, call the dressmaker for tomorrow, and she called Mable Kincade to see if she would allow the wedding to be held over there… Since both her daughters were living there now.

  Of course, ole Margie said yes and she even sounded thrilled. Daisy assured her she just needed the space and everything else was paid for, food, cake, liquor and decorations. Yeah, she’d known old Mable for a lot of years. Plus, Mable seemed to think they were all gonna be family soon. Did she know something I didn’t?

  Daisy glanced at the clock and she halted her pacing. Damnit! Did he do all this on purpose? Let her go and hire people, tell everybody then he bails, so I’m left at the—

  The door swung open while her suspicious thoughts were forced to recoil back into her addled brain.

  Rand shut the door behind him and gazed over at her. “Why do you look so rattled, Daisy?”

  She flipped around, so he couldn’t see her face.

  Grabbing her, Rand turned her back around. “Did you make all the arrangements?” he asked in a doubtful tone.

  Daisy kept lips pursed stubbornly.

  He shook his head at her as if this was what he expected.

  “It’s all set.”

  His head shaking stopped.

  Daisy nodded at him. “All of it is set… AND, we are gonna get—” she halted as though the word suddenly became foreign and hard to pronounce.

  “Married?” he supplied with a smile.

  She nodded again. “…At the Triple K. Where Maggie and Brea are.”

  “Why not have it here?”

  “At a male whorehouse, Rand?” She scoffed.

  “I don’t give a damn if we fly to Vegas and have an Elvis marry us.”

  She blinked at his tone. “Well, our girls are over there too.”

  “As long as we do it…I don’t care where.”

  “So, you still intend to go through with this?” she asked before she thought better of it.

  Rand looked stunned at her line of questioning as he threw his hands up in the air. “Ahh…no! Crickey! I came all this way to play a prank, don’t ya know? To get you up the aisle and then…” he paused and stepped up close again, while looking closely at her face. “God damnit, Daize! Is that what you think is happening here?”

  She swallowed heavily and looked away.

  “Oh, fuck me!” His accent became real thick suddenly.

  Biting her lip, she knew she just pushed him past his tipping point now. “It’s been years, but I sure would—like to?” she joked in a small voice to try to calm him down.

  Rand stared at her, his angry expression fading, as a grin appeared on his lips when he got what she meant… He threw his head back and laughed.

  Startled, Daisy jumped.

  Rand kept chuckling as he grabbed her up and scooped her into his arms.

  Gasping at the unexpected action, Daisy held her breath.

  Marching over to the bed, he dropped her on it.

  Her breath expelled in a great big whoosh as she bounced across it.

  Rand stood by the bed and tugged his shirt off.

  Daisy again sucked in her breath. It’d been so long since she’d seen that hard body. Tasted his skin, felt like…fireworks going off inside her body.
r />   “Starting stripping, Daisy girl!” he ordered.

  Smiling hugely now, she sat up and unbuttoned her blouse. “No need to holler. You don’t have to tell me twice!” Daisy eagerly ripped her blouse away, then she took the rest of her outfit off.

  Now she lay nude on her bed, hoping Rand found her just as desirable as he did all those years ago.

  He tugged his boots off then his jeans.

  Her breath caught in her chest while she stared at nothing but glory. I remember now… His skin felt as smooth as velvet but it always looked like hammered steel.

  He stood gazing intently at her.

  “The years have been good to you, Rand,” she whispered in awe.

  His hot gaze roamed all over her skin as he tilted his head at her. “They have been more than kind to you too, Daize.”

  She shook her head. “I’m not eighteen anymore.”

  “Well, you were twenty when I met you. So, you were never eighteen to me.”

  She tittered at his joke and felt anxious to have her leather back. “Well, big man? Are ya gonna jump into my saddle?” she asked outright… Daisy style, that is.

  He grinned and lay down next to her, tugging her close.

  She let out the most satisfied sigh when his smooth skin met hers.

  “Now, don’t go and get mad at me,” he warned.

  Batting her lashes as she almost felt drool pooling at her lips in want of licking him like a man popsicle from his ankle to his chin, she peered up at him. “Now, why would I—”

  “We aren’t gonna do anything tonight.”

  Her mouth popped open in pure unadulterated shock.

  At her fish out of water expression, he chuckled a little and pulled her close then wrapped a sheet over their bodies.

  “Wha—what?” she whispered in shock.

  “I am saving myself for my wedding night.”

  Daisy sat bolt upright in the bed and gaped at him.

  Rand kept a steady gaze with her as he shrugged at her, his smile wide.

  “Now, leather man, you’d best be kiddin’ me!”

  Rand stared at her face for a full minute and then laughed so hard, he fell over in the bed.

  Daisy felt her glower leave as relief flooded her and she lay back down, wrapping her arms around him. “I knew you must be just playing with me.”

  He slowed his chuckling and pulled her closer. “Nope.”

  Daisy again froze. “You mean you’re serious?” Her voice rose.

  “Yep. I sure am… We did all this backward, you know?”

  “Backward?” With her anger rising now, she squirmed in his arms. Rand held her tight and she now remembered his strength when she couldn’t rise up, even by an inch.

  “We met, had sex on the beach, then birthed a baby, then set a wedding date.”

  Daisy rolled her eyes. “Yes, Rand, I do remember all the sordid—”

  He sighed. “But we never had a wedding night…” His voice sounded strange, odd-like.

  Did he sound—forlorn? she wondered.

  “Well, this time we are going to do it right. I—we waited 20 years to have a wedding night and by holy hell or high fucking water? We will have a genuine honeymoon night like we always should have had.”

  Daisy settled down; in fact, he shocked her down. Maybe she did need to realize how she’d hurt this big-hearted sexy man all these years. “I am so sor—”

  Rand tugged her up and planted his lips over hers, soundly cutting her heartfelt apology short. He kissed her do deep, so hard, Daisy thought she might pass out. His velvety, hot tongue meshed with hers, while his warm hammered chest met with her soft bouncy jugs. Tears rolled down her cheeks as she vowed to make it up to him. Nah, it couldn’t be done, truth be told. But hell, she swore right then, she was gonna die trying.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  THE RABBIT HOLE

  MAGGIE

  At the Cook’s Cottage, Triple K

  Jet held her hand and led Maggie down a long sidewalk at the side of the big house. She shivered suddenly and felt odd, like everything was echoing around her and she knew she’d become light headed as they walked along. A giggle slipped out as she realized she might just be drunk.

  Jet halted and turned to look at her. “What’s so funny now? Did I do something stupid again without knowing it?”

  Maggie tiled her head back and stared intently at him. “Well someone sure has issues!” She laughed loudly.

  Jet blinked his eyes at her. “Are you—” Maggie started to fall backward and he caught her. “—Drunk?” he finished his question.

  She let out a hiccup and grinned at him. “How come you gotta be so dammed sexy? Huh? Why couldn’t my dream man be a little more—normal looking?” She laughed loudly again.

  Jet swung her up into his arms and carried her along the walk. “I guess we’re all built like we are?”

  Maggie giggled. “And some are built like hot cowboy sundaes!”

  Jet grinned at the odd expression. “What?”

  “Nothin’.” She shook her head. “You can’t tell him, ya know—that I think he’s this hot sundae who needs a good lickin’?”

  Jet halted and stared down at her. “You think I need…” He looked shocked, then he again shook his head and kept walking. He carried her to a door and kicked it open with his boot.

  “Whoa!” Maggie shouted. “That was too fucking cool, like Bruce Lee or Van Damme cool! You must have boots made for—kickin’ ass!”

  He chuckled and carried her over to a couch, setting her down.

  “Oooh, comfy couch!” She tried to sit up and failed.

  Jet stood above her wearing a puzzled expression. “Did you have a lot to drink?”

  Halting her struggles, she peered up at him. “God damnit, you are yummy!” she blurted out, entirely ignoring his question altogether. Then, she tried to sit up again and this time managed to do it, rather wobbly—but she did do it. “How’s ’bout we just get it the hells over—over with and…” She reached down and tugged her shirt off. “…DO IT!” She tossed her shirt aside.

  Jet’ eyes widened. “Okay, now I know you been drinking.”

  She unsnapped her bra and let her very large breasts plop right out—in the open, her nipples bared.

  “God damnit, Maggie!” He swore with awe in his voice and took a step back.

  “What?” Her head wobbled as she peered down. “Oh, these? Um, yeah double D’s!” She giggled. “Double D’s at the Triple K!” She laughed hard at her own joke until she snort laughed. She put her hands underneath them and lifted her boobs right up. “I’ve always been on the busty side, ya know?”

  Jet bit at his lip. “Just sooo…” His breath seemed to catch as he stared.

  “Want some, big chicken hawk?” she asked with wickedness in her voice. “They’re yours for the pilfering!”

  He looked uncomfortable as he then knelt down close to the couch. “I swear, Maggie, you are the damndest, most annoying…” His voice faded away. “…Beautiful woman I have ever met!” He licked at his lips and stared at her ample breasts as though they tempted him to do naughty things.

  Then, he stood up.

  Maggie leaned all the way back to keep her doubled gaze on him. “So…what’ya gonna do about it, big chicken hawk cowboy? Here’s the chick all served up.” She unsnapped her jeans. “Hot and ready.”

  Jet brought his hand up to his lip and tugged on it as though he were now more perplexed than ever before or he was tempted more than ever. “God damnit!” he yelled and stepped up to the couch again.

  ~~* * * *~~

  The next morning…

  Cook’s Cottage…

  Maggie cracked one eye open, everything hurt…Her eyeballs felt like her eyelids were made of sandpaper. Her body felt cold and clammy, except for certain spots at her back and backside of all things. There, it felt warm and then around her waist had a warm spot too. A butt warmer? Some kind of overly large heating pad? In pain, she closed her weary eyes. “Oh, dam
n…” She groaned in pitiful misery.

  Something moved behind her—the warm spots! Both her eyes instantly popped open. She was staring down at an old homespun rug, one she never saw before laying on a wooden floor, she also didn’t recognize. Her befuddled eyes swung up and she saw a front door. She kept blinking to make sure she was actually here in a strange, unfamiliar place.

  A male sleep filled moan sounded from behind her. She widened her eyes and held her breath. It’s a living heating pad, who groans! What is this?

  Suddenly, the door she stared at before burst open off its hinges. She froze and her befuddled thoughts halted in mid-step too.

  Brea came storming in looking like she was ready for war…Cole looked a bit fearful, unlike his usual easygoing self as he stepped in cautiously behind her.

  Maggie could only gawk, as the rest of her body seemed unresponsive. She felt like somebody who was witnessing a train wreck and couldn’t look away while she was lying on the tracks.

  “What in the hell are you doing with my sister?” Brea shouted.

  Maggie winced, ‘cause the shout hurt her head like a booming drum lived in her skull. Who is she talking to? Then the mysterious warm spot moved abruptly and knocked her off the perch of a couch she’d been laying on. She dropped to the homespun rug like a rock in a throwing contest. “OOPH!” she let out with a stunned shaking to her sore body.

  “What?” A deep voice shouted back.

  Her eyes rounded as she heard the one voice she did not expect to hear after waking up somewhere. Oh, no! No, no…double crapola, NO! She rolled over with a grunt and peered up at the couch.

  Jet, the yummy cowboy she loved to hate sat upright on the very couch she was just glued to, bare chested and looking disoriented.

  Then Maggie’s startled gaze swung back over to her sister’s face.

  Brea was turning three different shades of red. “Oh, no…YOU DIDN’T!” She lunged forward. “You so did not do this…Your ass is lucky I couldn’t find the shotgun shells!”

  Cole, who stood behind her, caught her before she got too far.