by Meg Ripley
She had made love with Tyler every night for a week now and she was due to leave in just two days. So far, he seemed to have let down his guard with her; he was freer, always joking and laughing. He loved teasing her, and in the week since they had first made love, he had displayed a voracious appetite and a boyish good humor that had endeared her to him. She had fallen in love with him, she admitted to herself. She loved him as she had never loved anyone and sometimes, when he stared at her, she could almost imagine that he loved her, too.
A small sound beside her made her turn her head to look up; someone was standing over her, but the glare of the sun entered her eyes, making it hard for her to see the person’s face.
“Ty?” she said, grinning as she sat up.
“Guess again,” Max said coldly.
“Oh. What do you want?” she asked, sitting up. She had never cared much for Max. She had caught him several times staring at her ass, but she couldn’t even complain about it to Tyler because they hadn’t defined who they were; they hadn’t defined their relationship.
“I was just wondering how long you planned to be here.”
“What?”
“You came to interview Tyler. I assume you're not doing that while he’s fucking you, and frankly, you've been disturbing my family’s sleep with your incessant moaning. When do you plan to get on the first flight back home?”
Hot color flooded her cheeks as embarrassment surged through her. He knew they were sleeping together? Did everyone know? They had been so careful.
She looked at him, her eyes astonished.
“Yes, Brooke, I know he’s fucking you. I mean it was my idea and all, but even I'm surprised it’s taken him so long to divert you.”
Color drained from Brooke’s face. Sleeping with her was Max’s idea? How? Why? And to divert her from what?
Max chuckled cruelly, “I can practically see the wheels turning in your brain. I assure you, watching you prance around has been fun to watch, but it’s getting old.”
“You’re lying,” Brooke said shakily, tears welling in her eyes. “Tyler would never discuss something like that with you.”
“Something like what?”
“He would never seduce me because you told him to.”
Max looked chagrined, “I never meant to say that, Brooke; it just slipped out. Forget you heard it,” he added as he rose to his feet and slowly strolled away, leaving her feeling as though her heart was splintering into a million pieces in her chest.
Brooke rushed into the house, shrugging into her bathrobe to cover her bikini as she raced towards Tyler’s library, her flip-flops slapping against the tiles noisily.
She walked into the room without knocking, her eyes wild and frightened as she spotted him sitting behind the desk. Two men in suits sat before him; their faces turned towards her in curiosity.
“Brooke?” Tyler said, coming smoothly to his feet.
“I need to speak with you,” she announced baldly.
"I’m in a meet—" he began.
“Now!” she cut in. “I need to speak with you now!”
He stared around at the men sitting before his desk, then his measuring gaze returned to her tear-streaked, pale face. With a nod at the men, he dismissed them.
The moment the door shut behind the men, Brooke exploded, “Is it true?”
“I don’t understand.”
“Did you decide with your family that you were going to seduce me?”
“Where did you hear a crazy story like that?” he asked.
Brooke couldn’t help but notice that he didn’t deny it.
“I'm not sure what you’re talking about,” he added.
“You decided to seduce me so I wouldn’t ask questions you didn’t want to answer, right?”
“What the hell?”
“Don’t lie to me. Did you decide to seduce me to get me to stop asking questions?”
“Do you honestly think that poorly of me?” he asked quietly, his gaze trained on her face.
“What I think is that there can be only two answers to the question: yes or no. You’re being very cagey, Tyler, which means you did seduce me for kicks. What, so you and Max could laugh?”
“Max? Is he the one who told you that?” he asked, his gaze sharpening.
“Like it matters,” she spat bitterly, before turning on her heels to exit the room.
“Don’t. I love you,” he said grabbing her arm.
Brooke glared balefully at him, wrenched her arm from his grasp and slapped him as hard as she could.
“That’s too damn bad because I hate you!”
She ran out of his library and into her bedroom, slamming the door shut after her. She could hear him calling her name even through the shut door but she ignored him. She flung herself onto the bed and cried for all she was worth.
Minutes later, she dragged herself out of bed and started throwing her belongings into her suitcase; she was done here, she thought. She felt empty and drained; Tyler had taken everything she had and flung it right back in her face.
It was time to go. She had never liked Montana anyway; too many skeletons.
****
Brooke whistled to herself as she brushed her hair into a glossy sheen. She had all the time in the world on her hands these days. She had quit her job soon after returning to New York and was currently searching for a new job. Handing her resignation letter to Collins just as he had been about to whip out one of his famous pink slips had been sheer bliss.
She grinned anew just remembering his flummoxed expression.
As she grabbed her handbag and headed towards the front door, she adjusted the strap of her leather wristwatch. She opened the door without looking up and promptly slammed into a brick wall.
All the air whooshed out of her lungs as a pair of strong, masculine hands shot out to grab her and hold her steady.
Brooke looked up disbelievingly into a pair of hooded grey eyes and watched in disbelief as his lips canted one of those slow sexy smiles he did so well.
“What are you doing here?”
“We need to talk. Then you can toss me out on my ass. Please.”
Longing warred with reluctance inside of her; longing won and she angrily stepped back to allow him into the lobby.
“Yes?” she said aggressively the moment he sank onto a sofa.
“First off, I’m sorry for the way things went down. I never meant to hurt you and I swear on my life I did not seduce you for any reason other than the fact that I could not help myself.”
Silence.
“Brooke, you have no reason to believe anything I say, but if you will believe nothing else, believe this: I went after you on my own accord.”
“I don’t understand.”
“My family has an awful secret yes, but I was never bothered about it. That was always my mother’s headache.”
“I see. And what’s this horrible secret?”
“My dad had an affair right after their marriage and had me. She has always taken it as a personal kick in her teeth and seems convinced that knowing he left the reins of the company to an ‘illegitimate’ son may affect the company’s stocks, especially since the family is associated with strong family values and all.”
It all made sense now. Painful sense.
“I was never bothered by my roots. He loved me and cared for me, but I think she sees me as a symbol of his infidelity and I don’t blame her. I understand, which is why I barely go to Montana.”
It was so simple and yet so complicated.
She dropped her head, examining her hands. Then deciding, she raised tear-brightened eyes to his and said, “I am originally from Montana.”
She saw surprise flit across his features which he quickly suppressed.
“I ran away from home when I was sixteen.”
“Why?”
She shrugged, “The usual; drunk mother, weird step-father and step-brother. They never hurt me but I knew they could one day. I broke my step-brother’s leg one night
and ran away that night. I have not looked back since.”
Bile rose in Tyler’s throat, “Did they hurt you?”
“No. I was just afraid they might.”
“Why did you tell me that?” he asked.
“You trusted me,” she said simply.
Their gazes clashed, held and no more words were necessary as she crossed the room to sit on his lap.
“I never discussed seducing you with anyone. Max might have suggested that at a family meeting, but my sights were already set on you. From the first day I looked into your eyes, I was a goner.”
Brooke blushed prettily, ducking her head and making him chuckle in amusement.
“So where do we go from here?”
“I want to get to know you better, Brooke. I am already in love with you, but I would love to see what more it could be.”
Her heart melted as she gazed into his dark, languorous eyes and said, “I love you too, Tyler.”
His grin was pure evil as he hauled her closer and said, “In that case, you’re gonna have to stop wearing those damned pantyhose.”
“Huh?”
He stroked his thumb across her lips.
“You’re going to go insane replacing them because, I promise you: I will destroy every pair that gets in my way.”
Laughter fled as he replaced his finger with his lips, kissing her with enough tenderness and heat to make her toes curl.
THE END
Wrangled By Two Cowboys
I was finally starting to come to terms with the fact that my long-time boyfriend left me for my former college roommate—and got engaged a mere three weeks later—but then, Bryan and Angela decided to host their Jack and Jill party at the bar I've been going to every Friday night for the last five flippin' years.
As I attempt to drown my sorrows and have a pity party with my best friend (and terrible bartender) Patrick, a delectable cowboy with eyes like hot chocolate saddles up beside me.
Damian brings me out of my awkward hell and into his world, where he introduces me to the equally gorgeous Remy. These two have been playmates since they were young, and now, these very grown men are looking for someone new to play with.
Hell, I'm game... ;)
"I hate him, I hate him, I hate him. Drop dead."
Patrick reached forward carefully and withdrew the glass from in front of Nixie, pulling out the picks she had thrown into it with each exclamation.
"Honey, it's lovely that you have reached the point of aggravation and, apparently, intoxication at which you feel free to express your emotions, but you are using up all of my little plastic swords and I need those for my sissy mixed drinks."
Nixie sighed and slumped down onto the bar, resting her head on her folded arms and squeezing her eyes shut against the tears that had been threatening them since she sat down. She actually wasn't drunk. She wished she was because it would probably help her get through the night more easily, but the drink that she filled with picks had only been her second and Patrick had confiscated it before she was able to take more than a sip.
"What's wrong with me, Patrick?" Nixie asked, lifting her head from her arms and digging her fingers back through her hair.
"Nothing's wrong with you. You have completely legit reasons to be upset right now. Your boyfriend broke up with you because he said he needed to work on himself and wasn't ready to make any major commitments and then got engaged three weeks later to your former college roommate who, incidentally, introduced the two of you in the first place, and they are having their joint bachelor-slash-bachelorette party tonight."
"Thank you for that rambling run-on sentence of a recap."
Patrick tilted his head and looked into the distance like he was going back over what he had just said.
"No, that was actually completely grammatically correct. Wordy as hell, perhaps, but grammatically correct."
There was a loud cheer from the small private room at the back of the bar and Nixie rolled her eyes, sagging back down onto the bar.
"I guess he could have been more tactful than to hold the party at the bar he knows you have gone to every single Friday night for the last five years," Patrick said, glancing over at the room and then back at Nixie, "Speaking of which, why are you still here?"
"I am showing how positive and strong I am, and that he can't get me down," she replied, not bothering to lift her head from her arms.
"Yeah," he said, sounding unconvinced, "You show them, girl." Nixie felt him pet the back of her head awkwardly, "Not that this whole situation you've got going on here isn't effective, but do you know what would really make an impact on Bryan?"
"What?"
"Dancing with someone like that delicious piece of man candy that has been eyeing you for the last hour."
Nixie raised her head to look at Patrick.
"How many times have I asked you not to use that phrase? It makes me uncomfortable." She turned around to look in the same direction as Patrick, "Damn."
"I told you. Man candy."
Nixie turned back to Patrick.
"Where the hell did he come from?" she asked, glancing back over her shoulder at the gorgeous man across the bar.
"I don't know, but he's looking at you. Maybe he's looking at me." Patrick struck what Nixie could only assume was meant to be a subtly sexy pose, held it for a few seconds, and then relaxed again, "No, definitely you."
"Great. I've had an audience for my emotional breakdown."
Patrick suddenly picked up a rag and started randomly wiping down any surface he could reach without moving from his spot.
"I don't think that's why he's been looking at you. Perk up, Fancy, he's on his way over here."
"What?" Nixie half-shrieked, half-whispered, but before Patrick could respond, she felt someone step up beside her.
She glanced up and saw the man from across the bar standing close to her, gazing down at her with eyes the color of chocolate and lips that looked like they were just as sweet.
"Hi," he said and the smooth, silky rumble of his voice rolled through her like thunder.
"Hi."
"Is there anyone sitting here?"
He rested his hand on the back of the barstool beside her and Nixie shook her head.
"No."
"Can I join you?"
There was a strange yip sound from Patrick and Nixie looked over to see him suddenly extremely invested in cleaning and arranging the glasses in the ceiling racks that likely hadn't been touched in several years.
"Absolutely," she said, turning back to the man.
He settled his denim-clad body onto the barstool beside her and looked at Patrick.
"Is he ok?"
Nixie let out a long breath.
"He's fine. He's just not very good at his job."
Patrick shot her a disgusted glance over his shoulder and the man beside her laughed.
"I'm Damian," he said, extending his hand to Nixie.
"Nixie," she said, tucking her hand into his.
He didn't so much shake her hand as give it a gentle squeeze and Nixie felt a flutter in her belly.
"So, what are you doing sitting here all alone tonight?"
There was another cheer from the private room and Nixie cringed.
"They're pretty loud, huh?"
"That is an engagement party for my former college roommate," she started.
"Shouldn't you be in there, then?"
"And my ex-boyfriend."
"Ah. Well, that's uncomfortable."
"It most certainly is."
Damian slid off his stool and held out a hand to Nixie.
"Let me take your mind off it."
There was another yip from Patrick, but Nixie had such focus on Damian she didn't even look his way. She took Damian's hand again and let him guide her off her stool and toward the small dancefloor in the center of the room. Only a few other people were dancing, but Nixie didn't care. Damian pulled her into his arms and rested his hands on the full swell of her hips. She could
feel the heat coming off his body as he moved against her, encouraging her to roll with him to the rhythm of the music throbbing around them.
****
"I can't believe that I'm actually going to ask this," Nixie said, her eyes flickering to the DJ booth a few feet away. "Do you come here often?"
Damian laughed and pulled her a little closer.
"This is my first time."
"That would explain why neither Patrick or I recognized you."
"I guess you do come here often?"
Nixie sighed, unsure if whether her answer was going to sound impressive because of her devotion and consistency, or really pathetic because she has had nothing better to do for five years of Friday nights.
"Every Friday night."
There was yet another cheer from the back room, this time even louder and more rambunctious, and Nixie cringed.
"So that would be why you are subjecting yourself to being here while that's going on. You don't want to break the streak you have going."
"Something like that."
No matter how hard she tried to hold them back, Nixie felt the beginnings of tears pricking at the corners of her eyes. Dammit all to hell. Back foul beasts! That didn't work either. She had lost all control of her emotions and was officially reduced to a pool of uselessness and sniffling.
The worst part about this whole situation is that she had felt like she was over Bryan. She had even been considering breaking up with him in the weeks leading up to him crushing her soul with his little whirlwind romance with her former best friend. Things had felt a little distant between them for a while. Of course, that was probably because the further he was getting from her, the cozier he was getting with Angela, but that was not something that Nixie really wanted to dwell on at that moment.
Damian tucked a finger under her soft chin and lifted her face to look at him. Eyes like hot chocolate stared back at her. Dear lord she loved a good cup of cocoa on a chilly autumn night.
