Their Ex's Redrock Dawn (Texas Alpha Biker)

by Shirl Anders

  “I’ve been getting her read, and this place ticks all the boxes,” Cabe said.

  Then Justice’s voice entered the conversation. “You put down a down payment, get the keys, and do your thing; take her pulse on what she thinks of the house—”

  Tag’s voice interrupted with bar sounds behind it. “Yeah, then unravel the deal if she doesn’t dig it.”

  There were a lot of “yeahs” going on in his ear as Zeb smiled ... he might like these guys. They reminded him of buddies from his unit. Feeling easier, he decided it was time.

  “Going in,” he uttered, and the chatter quieted.

  “You don’t need to part the sea all in one night, Zeb,” Justice advised him.

  But Zeb remembered Caval’s words the most. “This creep is a civvy, ranger, he don’t know shit. You take control, you lead the talk.” That was what Zeb took with him to confront the man that was trying to destroy the woman Zeb was set to protect with his life.

  Zeb thought he had better fucking odds.

  Zeb had never seen the shit Shaw up close, but the dude looked like a nervous school teacher, with a button-up shirt and slacks. The creep was so out of place, he might as well of hung a neon sign on his chest saying, “All you hardass bikers pay attention to me.”

  Because the eyes roaming Shaw’s way were numerous, some wondering what they hell he was doing in the place and others speculating on bad things, like could they jump him in the bathroom or when he left and get his cash, cards, or his ride to turn into quick money in their pockets.

  Zeb drew down the meanest look he had, sweeping it across the busy bar as he prowled toward Shaw. It mostly worked ... eyes turned and the few that stayed were the ones thinking on the worse things. After Zeb was through with Shaw, he did not give one damn if that went down.

  Shaw had ordered a pitcher with two glasses, and his eyes finally caught Zeb’s approach. Shaw’s eyes whipped over Zeb, then he paled, and then he looked down at the table and took a deep breath.

  “He’s fucking rattled,” Zeb muttered under his breath.

  “Good,” Justice said in the earbud.

  Zeb kept his glower going as he stomped his motorcycle boots up to the table and he shoved Shaw. “Move back further, you’re like a sign in here, idiot.”

  “Um, yeah, yeah,” Shaw sputtered, looking around, then staying further back in the corner of the booth, where Zeb knew he could get better audio on the prick. Then Zeb did something he knew Shaw was not expecting: he shoved in and sat on the same side as Shaw, and he grabbed the pitcher and poured a beer, lifted it, and gulped.

  Shaw was still sputtering, not really words, as if he wanted to say them but couldn’t get them out, while looking at Zeb wide-eyed from the side. Zeb didn’t give a damn what Shaw thought; he’d get better audio this way.

  “Thanks for the beer,” Zeb said, mildly.

  That seemed to deflate Shaw about halfway from pinging like a rocket out of the booth. “W-we talked on the phone?”

  “We did,” Zeb agreed, looking sideways at Shaw’s dark eyes. The dude was handsome, and he worked out some, but Zeb was pleased to see the bastard’s hairline was receding. “My name doesn’t matter, Shaw, I’m just your fairy godfather from Merc Inc.”

  “Okay,” Shaw expelled, then he took a long breath. “Um, so you do this often?”

  “Yeah,” Zeb said, then because he wanted Shaw to chat, he laid down some rope. “I had an ex-wife. She tried to fuck with me, as in dump me, put another man in my house, and then she tried to fucking take my house from me. Last straw. That fucking house was mine. Her just giving me her pussy did not earn her that roof.”

  “Oh man,” Shaw said, then he leaned forward, elbows to the scratched tabletop. “Some p-pussy never learns.”

  Zeb lifted an evil grin; he knew Shaw was trying to toughen up—it was all a badly played act, but Zeb, of course, played along, not letting the bastard know he sucked at it.

  “Yeah,” Zeb agreed. “Now I got two women on my dick. Both know about each other and one gets kicked to the curb if they open their lips to complain.”

  “Wow,” Shaw said, grabbing his glass of beer. “How you doing that? That’s very cool.”

  Zeb scratched his jaw while glancing on and off at Shaw as he talked. “I don’t know ... takes money, I guess. I got the cash now to throw at them, keep them happy.”

  “See,” Shaw exclaimed, “that’s what I’m going to do. I got the hottest piece of ass—she’s a freaking beauty queen. I just need a little more cash. But man, sex the both times with her was the fucking hottest shit.”

  Zeb heard a snorted chuckle in his earbud and he clamped down hard on his features, not betraying his inner feelings about what a stupid dick this guy was. Two times. Tula had his fucking balls.

  “Yeah, my new motto is no need to marry them, unless they’re rich.”

  Shaw looked at him, calculating; Zeb kept his gaze steady, letting him, then Shaw finally said, “You get rid of her, then?” He paused, looked around, then whispered, “Your ex-wife. Is she dead?” Zeb did not answer verbally, he just slowly nodded. “Man,” Shaw whispered in awe. “Man.”

  Zeb shrugged. “It is what it is, and I got my fucking house.”

  Shaw shook his head, saying, “Yeah.” Then Shaw leaned toward him. “I might not tell you this, but with you being reputable and all from the mercenary place and with your ex-wife and all, but my wife is rich ... I mean rich, and she never told me.”

  “No shit,” Zeb offered, trying to keep his features neutral.

  “What kind of fucking woman doesn’t tell the man she’s married to she’s got millions hidden from him?” Shaw asked, with his eyes getting bright and mean. “She wants the damn marriage vows. She thinks I’m worth that, but not her money.”

  “That is ...” Zeb said, pausing for effect. “Really screwed, dude.”

  “Yeah,” Shaw said, nodding. “Isn’t it?” Then Shaw slapped the table. “This is why I need you. To get me what those vows promised and, buddy, you get that for me and I’ll give you a raise like you’ve never seen.”

  “Oh yeah,” Justice said in the earbud.

  Then Vincent uttered, “Easy now.”

  Zeb was already leaned back in the booth, with his hand up to Shaw in a stopping motion. “Hold that shit,” Zeb ordered. “You put the five thou in an envelope right here, first.” Zeb pointed to the table.

  Shaw scrambled around immediately. “This was hard to get until you do her, but I got it by signing her name at another bank she thought I didn’t know about, where she tries to hide her money.” The packet came out in Shaw’s hand, and he set it on the table. “There ... exactly what you said, five thousand.”

  Zeb took a breath, looking at Shaw, who was breathing heavy in excitement, and he said, “You’re giving me five thousand as a down payment for what? You want me to kill your wife and if I do I get a bonus?”

  “Yes,” Shaw stated, grabbing the packet, then lifting it to plant it on Zeb’s chest. “A big bonus, man. But it has to look like an accident for the insurance. You did that kind of thing, right? With your wife.”

  Zeb grabbed the packet so Shaw would lower his hand as his other fist clenched and he gritted his teeth to keep his cover. In his ear there were several exclamations of the kind expressing they had just got the fucker.

  “I did,” Zeb uttered to Shaw’s question, and to buy him the seconds it was taking him to inwardly talk himself out of punching Shaw bloody now that they had him. Then that thing that made him a good sniper kicked in. It was a thing that slowed everything in his mind in tense situations, where he could see it all, and he knew he wanted to make sure, so he leaned toward Shaw.

  “What have you tried already? To make it look like an accident? We need to make this look good,” Zeb said.

  Shaw looked eager, with no clue what was about to go down, because in Zeb’s ear he heard that Justice was walking in, and that helped satisfy some of Zeb’s rage. “Her car, the brakes, but I must not have
cut the brake line enough. Then I let loose a bull in a pen she was in at the rodeo, but some rodeo hand saved her, before the bull could gut her.”

  “We got enough,” Justice uttered. “If he should have a black eye or two before I lock him up, I’m just saying this is a fucking biker’s bar.”

  Zeb growled fiercely, straightened, while Shaw bucked back at the complete change in aura he must have felt, and Zeb tore at the top of his tee shirt, until the wire came partly loose and could be seen.

  “You see this fucker,” Zeb snarled to Shaw’s wide and darting eyes. “It’s a wire. You’ve just confessed.”

  “No!” Shaw wailed.

  Zeb grabbed him by the collar and slammed him into the back wall of the booth. Shaw’s head rocked back with a thud.

  “Just so you know, stupid shit. Carly’s my woman now and you are a fucking stupid idiot for picking Tula over Carly.”

  Then Zeb punched him once, heard his nose break, and he shoved him, letting go as Shaw wailed, and Zeb shoved out of the booth. “Stupid fuck,” Zeb growled, then he walked away as Justice passed him to arrest Shaw.

  Before Zeb got outside, Tag got his shoulder. “That was fucking righteous, man,” Tag said.

  Zeb nodded. “Thanks, man.”

  Side by side they pushed through the bar doors, and once outside Zeb paced to the parking lot, then stalked around in a half-circle, trying to pace his adrenalin out. Vincent came up with Cabe by his side.

  “You need a job, you’re hired,” Vincent said.

  Zeb continued to pace in front of them. “Thanks.”

  “Only had to do it once ... not five times,” Cabe said. “That guy is a stupid dick.”

  Zeb nodded. “Yeah.” He kept pacing and shook his shoulders. A damn fight would be good right about then, he thought.

  Tag pounded his shoulder once. “Semper fi, man. We’re all vets.”

  Zeb stopped pacing and looked at each of them. “No shit.” They all nodded. “Thanks, guys, really couldn’t do it without you.”

  “Well, we could all hug like Marine wussies,” Cabe said, looking at Tag, whom Zeb would bet was ex-marine. “Or we can go get our women.” Cabe pointed at Tag. “Which still leaves you out, brother.”

  Then some hardass razzing ensued, which helped Zeb better than any other thing that could have happened, except what he did next, and that was find his woman and put her against him.

  ***

  Carly was shimming in her Rockstud Valentino stilettos when someone tall, hot, and with muscles from top to bottom hauled her back into him. The arm that came around her to do this showed a tattoo she knew, around a sinewy bicep, so she didn’t screech or turn and slap him; instead she moved her booty right back against him.

  Warm breath heated her ear. “Those fucking heels, babe, make my cock hard.”

  She was kind of drunk, so she giggled as Zeb slowed her body down to his rhythm that was sexy, swaying, and intense to a really fast song. The people around them shook and jumped like crazy, but all she felt was Zeb’s hard body molding and moving hers. She so wanted him like this. Who knew drunk made her super horny.

  “Ranger,” she moaned, and her head fell back to his shoulder.

  Zeb’s warm, firm lips kissed enticements along the curve of her neck as he swayed them, with his fingers spreading out over her belly. That hand pressed, keeping her booty over the hard ridge she could feel in his jeans as the lights strobed around them and they danced really slow and very naughty on the dark edges of the partially full dance floor.

  Her happy drunken thoughts knew she should be thinking about stupid, really important life stuff, but she couldn’t manage it. Zeb was there and that meant he was okay, so instead she let her drunken horny side take over and she rolled against him, getting an aroused growl in her ear. His hand inched a little lower as they ground together.

  “We’ll talk later. You’ll get the full story eventually,” Zeb said in her ear. “You don’t need to take it all at once, because all you really need to know, sweetness, is you’re all mine. That sweet, wet pussy’s mine, those soft, pouty lips are mine, those fuck-me legs, and that hot ass of yours are all mine.”

  Her hand lifted and wound around the back of his neck as she arched into him. If they were not where they were at, she’d have him inside her just like this.

  “Yes, baby,” she whispered to everything her man was laying down that she was so picking up.

  TWENTY-THREE] Fourth Of July, I Just Turn You On, Sweetness

  A couple months later, Carly walked into the great room of her lake house, which was filled with people. The sliding glass doors over half the wall were all open so people could move inside, outside, or down to the lake, and they were everywhere. It was the Fourth of July and she and Zeb were throwing a party.

  He’d told her to make it the party to end all parties, and he’d said seeing her lake house resort he’d known she could do it. So she had, and she grinned because he’d never thought she went over the top even when she’d had the party catered, had another army of helpers hired to serve, clean, and keep things filled, ordered like a thousand balloons, put streamers of red, white, and blue everywhere, got valets, and gave each guest a big package of fireworks to set off that night.

  Then she’d made a guest list of almost a hundred, which included his army buddies (some of which they’d help fly in), Redrock locals like her besties and their husbands, and then all the young women from WTSF and the half a dozen young men the charity was working with.

  Just then, Carly noticed the lethally graced Caval Rome prowling her way with the most beautiful young Indian woman, in her early twenties, Carly had ever seen, walking doe-eyed beside him. Carly had invited Caval and any of his mercenary friends, plus Justice, Angel, and even Jaggar, who had not shown up yet, she didn’t think.

  “Carly, like you to meet my daughter, Blue,” Caval said, arriving in front of her.

  Carly knew her eyebrow rose as she looked between them. Caval with his hair so black it had a bluish sheen to it where it hung straight down his broad chest covered in a blue tee shirt that had a closed white fist on it, next to the slender and delicate-looking young woman with browner hair pulled back, defining her exotic features. She’d never expected an edgy man like Caval to have a daughter.

  Carly smiled. “It’s good to meet you, Blue. What a kickass name.”

  Blue’s smile came slowly, nearly hesitant, and when it did come out the girl was even more beautiful. Caval had his hands full, Carly decided.

  “Thank you,” Blue said shyly.

  While Caval leaned near Carly’s ear. “You have an age group she can hang with around here?”

  Carly looked into Caval’s light green eyes, which seemed to change to silver as she watched. “I sure do.” Over Caval’s shoulder she saw just the person. “Justice,” she called.

  Justice Walkinghorse was not wearing his normal federal marshal getup, but Carly figured he’d never lose the jeans and boots. Justice walked over looking at Carly, but then his gaze traveled to whom she was with and it shifted back and hooked on to Blue. Something very interesting crossed Justice’s face that Carly thought might be interest.

  “Justice, this is Blue and her father Caval. Blue doesn’t know anyone around here, you mind taking her to meet Angel and Vicki? You guys can even take the jet skis out if you want. There are plenty of suits and towels in the pool house down by the grotto.” Carly nudged Blue, who was gazing at her feet, blushing. “Go on.”

  “Nice to meet you,” Justice said, and he got a peek from Blue.

  Caval shook his head and grabbed a beer from a passing waiter. “Go on, Blue, honey,” he muttered.

  Justice nodded to them both and gently touched the back of Blue’s shoulder to get her moving as Caval turned his back on her, but leaned into Carly’s ear. “That Indian better be a gentleman.”

  Carly smiled. “He will be; it’s why I picked him.”

  Caval nodded, and she was opening her mouth to ask him a dozen
questions about Blue, who her mom was, and where she lived, when Caval walked off and disappeared into the crowd.

  “Well damn,” Carly said.

  “Well damn what?” Tess asked, from the other side of her.

  Carly fluffed her ponytail, looking where Caval had been. “Caval Rome was just here,” she whispered to Tess, whose eyes widened. Both Rusty and Tess wanted to meet Caval with a burning curiosity. “He’s got an Indian princess daughter—she’s that pretty, Blue is her name, and I think Justice was smacked upside the head when I introduced them.”

  “Damn, I missed him,” Tess said, popping a chip in her mouth to chew, then she said, “If you see him you have to show him to me so I can show Rusty, but I really think Justice has a thing for Angel.”

  Carly nodded, stealing a chip from Tess’ hand with a grin. “This should be interesting. I can’t believe Caval has a daughter like that.”

  Tess nodded, not having even seen Caval but taking Carly’s word for it, which Carly really liked. “I’ve already run into two of the Merc Inc. guys,” Tess said. “You can’t miss them; they all have on these tee shirts with a white fist on them, besides looking military-workout humongous and musclebound.” She leaned closer to Carly. “I swear one looks like the Rock.”

  Carly’s eyes widened, looking at Tess, who nodded slowly. “Wow,” Carly offered.

  “Yeah,” Tess said. “Double wow. This seriously is the best party.”

  Carly’s inner hostess glowed. “Where’s Rusty—” she started to ask, but suddenly, right behind Tess, charged green eyes appeared above a kickass black goatee.

  As if sensing a presence, Tess whirled, then exclaimed, “Finn!”

  His grin was tummy tingling as Tess and he hugged briefly. Carly knew about Finn helping her out, even if she didn’t know him extremely well. Zeb had also told her all about the meeting out in the desert, and they’d speculated on Finn being undercover.

  “Babe,” his deep voice rumbled to Tess, then he nodded toward her. “Carly.”