Acres, Natalie - Cowboy Boots and Unsettled Debts [Cowboy Boots 3] (Siren Publishing LoveXtreme Forever)

by Natalie Acres

  Regardless of the danger looming, Ace almost followed his daring vixen to the bathroom. It wouldn’t have taken him longer than a minute to spank her sweet ass for making him so horny.

  “What the hell were you thinking?” Brantley asked, stalking Casey.

  “She showed off the goods, but tried not to sell,” Casey explained, taking the blame like a man should. “I really didn’t give her better options.”

  “I didn’t see her protesting,” Brantley pointed out. “When I walked in, her hand was on top of your head and she was humping against your mouth. What the hell was that?”

  Casey rolled his tongue over his bottom lip. “Delicious.”

  “Fuck you, Casey,” Brantley said, his nose twitching.

  “Come on, Brantley,” Ace said. “Give the guy a break.”

  “Yeah, Brantley. Work with me here. Put yourself in my place. Abby hiked up her skirt and that dildo was visible between glistening folds. All I could think about was how sensational she’d taste.”

  Brantley snarled.

  “Did she?” Ace asked curiously.

  “Did she what?” Casey asked, already losing his train of thought.

  “Was she as appetizing as you’d hoped?” Ace asked, taunting Brantley more than prying. Hell, he didn’t care about Casey’s reply. He planned to sip on her sweet cunt the first time he found an opportunity, too.

  “Shh,” Abby said, reentering the kitchen and pointing toward the stairs. “Juraz thinks Casey is my brother.”

  “What?” Brantley and Porter asked, raising their voices in unison.

  “He caught me coming out of the house,” Casey explained. “I had to think of something.”

  Ace crossed his arms and leaned against the wall. “Mighty damn convenient if you ask me.”

  Casey waggled his brows. “I know, right?”

  Son of a bitch. The little shit planned to get in there first. And he might have the opportunity if he and Abby were sharing the same roof.

  “Please,” Abby said, propelling her arm and pointing toward those steps again. “He’s taken with me, or at least, I think he is. Let’s not fuck this up.”

  Ace pinched his nose, smirking regardless of trying to hide it. “Speaking of which, how soon can you shake the bastard?”

  “Why?” Abby asked, cocking her hip and resting her palm in the small of her waist.

  “If somebody doesn’t bend you over and make you holler soon, you’re bound to fuck this up all on your own.”

  “Are you volunteering?”

  “Honey, I’ve already heard you scream my name.” Ace walked toward her. His stride was slow and easy. He caressed her cheek and stared into those soft blue eyes. “You didn’t disconnect the call when you started enjoying yourself.”

  “Oh my God, that reminds me,” Abby said, pushing him toward the door. “You have to go.”

  “Why?”

  “Because, you have to get out of here.” She dropped her voice and quickly added, “Juraz heard me call your name. Go on. Get out of here.”

  Ace started to mention a name-change for the duration of the mission but as he backed out of the house, he decided that wouldn’t work for him. There was only one name he wanted falling from Abby’s lips when the time came for him to take her to bed.

  The screen door slammed behind him. He stared through the webbed window and winked. “One of us will soon need a rain check.”

  Abby ran splayed fingers through her hair. “If I need assistance again, I’ll give you a call.”

  * * * *

  Fowler felt like he was in a horror movie. He paced the dimly lit hallway. Minutes before, he’d heard Juraz leave the bathroom and enter the bedroom. He didn’t want to alarm him, so he kept pacing, making plenty of noise as he stomped across the floor runner.

  He wasn’t good at this sort of thing. He didn’t like to fly by the seat of his pants. He was a sharpshooter for a reason. He could find his position perched on a rooftop and wait. No interruptions. No small talk.

  Then, when he took his shot, he felt no remorse. He hadn’t shaken hands with the bastard. He didn’t know anything about the person except that his mark was the bad guy and he was one of the good fellows.

  Then again, he could do this job without missing a beat. He reminded himself of the differences in this mission and those in the past.

  Juraz Mendete had killed in cold blood. He’d murdered their leader. He’d taken away Abby’s family. Hell yeah, he could shake this bastard’s hand and pull the trigger without hesitation.

  “Fowler!” Brantley rasped, barely above a whisper. “Get down here!”

  He didn’t have to tell him twice. He barreled down the stairs, passed Abby along the way, and rushed the door.

  “Let’s get out of here,” Brantley said, pushing him toward the kitchen.

  “Where’s Ace?”

  “Gone,” Brantley replied.

  “How about Casey?”

  “Staying.”

  “And Porter?”

  “Barn.”

  “What’s wrong with you?” Fowler asked as soon as the late-afternoon air hit them in the face.

  Brantley motioned for him to follow him. “Stay down. I don’t want Juraz to see us if he looks out the bedroom window.”

  Fowler followed orders. “You didn’t answer my question.”

  “I’m in a mood. I’ve been this way since this assignment started. And then…”

  “Casey getting a hold of her first is hard to swallow.”

  “Yes, it is,” Brantley admitted.

  “Don’t worry, Brantley. You’ll get your chance, just like I will. Casey isn’t the only one she cares about.”

  They walked through the woods in silence. Once their feet hit the other lawn, the property that once belonged to Sam Kane, Fowler grabbed hold of his arm. “You can’t blame Casey for what happened back there. I would’ve done the same thing.”

  “No. I don’t think you would’ve.”

  “Uh-huh,” Fowler muttered. “You’d better believe I would’ve. If I’d had a chance to get in between those gorgeous legs, I would’ve gone at her like I go at turkey on Thanksgiving.”

  “Nice image.”

  “You’re pissed, and that’s fine, but you need to get over it. And now would be nice. We’ve got a job to do.”

  Brantley kept walking, pursuing the front porch where Ace and Porter were sitting in rocking chairs waiting for them. “We thought you were at the barn.”

  “I’ll start acting like a farmer tomorrow,” Porter told him.

  Fowler stopped. “Brantley, we’re not done.”

  “Yes we are,” he snapped over his shoulder.

  “No,” he said, grabbing his arm and forcing him to face him.

  Brantley immediately balled his fists and caught himself before his right hook connected with Fowler’s jaw. Ace leapt to his feet as if he thought he’d need to separate a brawl.

  “This is crazy!” Fowler shouted. “You’ve got your undies in a wad because Casey got to Abby first. You’ve had your chance. Hell, I’ve had mine. Now here we are. We can’t think of anything else, and do you know why?

  “We’re afraid of missed opportunities, of the chances we had but didn’t take. It’s killin’ every damn one of us because we know when the time arrives, Abby may spread her legs for Juraz and fuck the hell out of him while we watch.”

  “I’ll kill him first,” Ace said, backing away after he apparently determined his assistance wasn’t required.

  Porter frowned. “Fowler is right, you know. Brantley, pull her off. Send her out of the country until this is over. You have the power to do that now. Donovan said they could send someone else in here. Let him. If you don’t, we’ll fuck this up, and our actions could place Abby in an extremely dangerous situation.”

  Brantley shook his head. “She’d never forgive me.”

  “I’ll never forgive ya if something happens to her,” Fowler informed him. “She’s too close. She can’t keep things in pers
pective. One wrong move and she could end up dead.”

  Brantley took a deep breath and locked eyes with Ace. That always bugged the hell out of Fowler. They were a team, but Brantley and Ace acted like they were the elite of the group, the two who apparently understood one another without a word exchanged between them.

  After they remained as they were for far too many seconds, Brantley said, “You’re right. She’s too close, but we’ll find a way to use that to our advantage. Juraz took up with Abby the minute he set eyes on her. We don’t have any guarantee Veronica, or any other operative for that matter, would appeal to Juraz. Besides, our covers are in place. We have to run with this now.”

  Ace stomped off, heading toward the field located directly in front of the house. Apparently, the shared code between Ace and Brantley malfunctioned.

  There was no doubt in Fowler’s mind—Ace didn’t want Abby anywhere near Juraz. And there would be hell to pay if something happened to the woman Ace and the rest of them never took the time to claim.

  Chapter Ten

  “You know I can’t call Veronica in here,” Brantley said as soon as he joined Ace down by the pond later that evening.

  Ace had been sitting there for several hours. At some point, he must’ve gone into town and picked up a cooler. The ice chest was located next to his hip. “Want a beer?”

  Brantley shook his head. “One of us needs to stay sober.”

  “You can’t drink just one?”

  “Is this peer pressure?”

  Ace took a deep breath. “No, but this is…I don’t want Abby working this case. Fowler was right. She’s too close. Only you and I started this mission with a clear understanding of Abby’s true connection to Conrad. We ignored the fact because she wanted us to believe she was capable of taking out the man who murdered her father and family. She can’t, Brantley. She’s hurting inside. She’ll make mistakes. She can’t focus. I saw that last night when she first met Juraz.”

  “You didn’t mention anything. What happened?”

  Ace shook his head. “Man, she was like a lost soul, a helpless child.” Ace’s expression changed. He had that faraway look in his eyes, barely visible under the moonlight but there all the same. “We were at Juraz’s club. They’d just connected. They were making small talk. Evidently, she picked up on the fact Juraz was ready to move things along. Next thing I know she’s on her knees.”

  “What?”

  “She fell right into the role of his sub, and her act was almost a skilled agent’s undoing. The second he responded to her, a flash of death settled in her eyes. I thought she might kill him right there in the middle of the club. I kept my hand on the butt of my piece the whole time, but if she’d lost it, there’s not a doubt in my mind—we would’ve all died there. That place is better guarded than bin Laden was during his days of hiding.”

  Brantley rubbed his nape. “I’ll take that beer.”

  Ace reached in the ice chest and pointed toward the house as he wiggled a bottle free of frozen chips. “Fowler and Porter are close. He’ll tell Porter about Abby, and if you think I’m set on seeing her go, wait until Porter finds out those kids were Abby’s half siblings. He’ll go nuts.

  “Seven years ago, Porter graduated from the University of Tennessee. His parents and kid brother had driven down to Knoxville to celebrate the occasion. They checked in at a local motel, nothing fancy but considered a nice spot to stop all the same. They picked the wrong place at the wrong time.

  “Prior to Porter’s graduation, about an hour before, Knoxville was buzzing with local news. A family of three was found dead in a downtown motel room. The reason for the murders? A group of kids strung out on drugs did it for kicks. A year later, Porter joined the Underground Unit.”

  “You’re right,” Brantley said, considering Porter’s past. He’d known about Porter’s history, but Ace’s way of reminding him forced him to face the truth. “This won’t go over well with Porter. He’ll relate too much to what she’s going through.”

  “It’s too risky, Brantley.”

  “I know,” he said quietly.

  They sat by the pond drinking beer until the moon was full and bright. Finally, Ace said, “So what are you gonna do?”

  “I’ll get in touch with Sloane tomorrow.”

  “We need to get her out of there as quickly as possible.”

  “You’re right. I’ll call him now.”

  * * * *

  Juraz made Abby very uncomfortable. He followed her every move as she worked her way around the kitchen. The cooking idea was a general disaster. She couldn’t find the bowls. She had a hard time locating a baking dish. And every drawer she tried to open was only there for show.

  Finally, Juraz said, “You don’t cook, do you?”

  She released a burdened sigh. “No.” She placed her palms behind her back and crossed her fingers. It was a small lie told to a crook. What the hell did it matter? The fibs started the second she stepped into the role of an executive visiting Chicago for training purposes.

  To ease the guilt, she reminded herself of the vile character in front of her. She needed to assume the role of an actress, a woman in position to take out the villain in her story.

  This man had killed her father. He’d murdered her siblings, raped her stepmother.

  She grabbed hold of the countertop. Her nails bit into the grout between the small lavender tiles. Eyeing the knife set within her reach, she resisted the urge to wrap her fingers around the only weapon within her grasp.

  This wasn’t the way to take out a killer. Besides, they needed information. She couldn’t dispose of the enemy until they discovered who was next in line to take his place.

  Juraz seemed delighted, rather than angry. “I’m an excellent cook.”

  “Really?” she asked, forcing herself to step away from the past and to concentrate on her current appointment as Juraz’s companion.

  “My mother was Sicilian. She was from a big family. Every single day was an occasion for cooking, every holiday another opportunity to collect secret family recipes.”

  “So you cook Italian?”

  “No,” he replied, grinning. “Mexican, actually.”

  She arched a brow.

  “I’m kidding.”

  She laughed. And it sounded forced.

  “Okay, so that was a bad joke. What do you have in terms of spices?” he asked, rolling up his sleeves.

  As he made his way around the kitchen, Abby stared at his hands. A few times she felt as if she heard that pounding zoom-zoom sound like spectators often heard right in the middle of a horror movie. She saw blood on his hands and jerked. The imagery was so real she had a tough time refocusing.

  “Is something wrong?” he asked, coming to her aid and grabbing hold of her arm.

  She shook her head. “No, I’m just…I’m uh…” She stared at his fingers gripping her arm, making sure the blood was only a figment of her imagination. Bile rose in her throat.

  Where was Ace when she needed him? Why the hell hadn’t they handed her the new programmed earpieces when she’d first arrived? Why weren’t they better prepared to handle this situation? And since when—damn it—was she terrified?

  “Abby?” Juraz’s voice faded in and out. “Abby? Are you all right?”

  She cleared her throat. “Juraz, I can’t do this.”

  “You can’t do what, Abby?”

  “We just met yesterday,” she began explaining. “We flew home from Chicago and now you’re making my home, yours.”

  “Isn’t that what you wanted?”

  “No,” she said slowly. “I mean, yes, but not yet. It’s too soon. I don’t know you, and here you are rushing around my kitchen ready to cook dinner. I mean, your mother is Sicilian for God’s sake!”

  “And what does that have to do with anything?” Juraz asked, sounding offended.

  “My point is—I should’ve been told that before I brought you here. I should know more about you before you spend the night in my home!
” A beat later, she softened, or at least made the attempt. “Don’t you understand? Wouldn’t you like to know more about me before I submit to you and agree to become your sub?”

  “You’ve already stepped into the role, sub.” His voice was firm, cold.

  “Maybe, but I can change my mind. Wouldn’t you like to know where I grew up? I’d like to hear about your past. Wouldn’t you like to discover more about me—my hobbies and dreams, goals and ambitions?”

  He stared at her blankly. Okay, so evidently not. She needed to stuff this card she’d played back in the deck. He wasn’t ready to concede.

  “Okay,” he reluctantly said, backing away and crossing his arms. “What would you like to tell me and what would you like to know?”

  Abby forced a smile. Oh no, buddy. I’ve made up my mind. I’m not sleeping in the same bed with you tonight. “I’d like for you to tell me where you’ll be staying while we get to know one another.”

  Chapter Eleven

  “Sloane refused,” Brantley announced, snapping his phone shut.

  “I heard,” Ace said, thinking they could do something about that if they wanted to involve the Donovans.

  “Keep in mind, his first wife died. He’s very protective over Veronica.”

  “Then what is she doing working for the Underground Unit?”

  “I imagine she’s about as tough as Abby. I could see us telling her to quit, couldn’t you?”

  “Isn’t that what we’re more or less doing?” Ace asked, rethinking the request.

  They sat in silence, nursing their beers. Ace heard something in the distance and reached for his pistol.

  “It’s me,” Casey said, storming them. “We’ve got a problem.”

  “Just one?” Brantley asked.

  “It’s Abby.”

  Ace jumped to his feet. His heart raced. His blood was pumping so rapidly, he developed an instant pounding headache. “Where is she?”

  “Calm down, Ace. She’s fine.” Casey looked over his shoulder and addressed Brantley. “But she sent Juraz to his place.”