The front door opened, and while slipping his phone in his jeans pocket, Judd came back in. Cleo immediately got to her feet, trying to steel herself since it didn’t look as if Judd was going to give her much to smile about.
“Where are the boys?” Judd asked.
Cleo fluttered her fingers to the stairs. “With Rosy. She’s getting them settled in their room.” She thought she detected a smidge of relief that meant Judd likely had something to say that he didn’t want the boys to hear.
“Darrell and I called in every favor we could, and for now the boys are in my protective custody.”
He muttered some profanity under his breath to let her know that this had not been his first choice of solutions. But it was music to Cleo’s ears. “That definitely won’t go on my Stupid Shit Men Say board,” she said, gushing. “It’s wonderful, Judd. Thank you.”
She wanted to throw her arms around him and hug him. Heck, she wanted to kiss him, but then that had nothing to do with her gratitude.
“Don’t thank me. You don’t have long to find another way to fix this,” Judd went on. “Darrell’s lieutenant will almost certainly question this and will want CPS brought in immediately.”
Oh. Immediately didn’t sound good at all. “How much time?” she asked.
“A day, maybe two at the most.”
So, not much, but it was still breathing room, and she’d take it. “Thank you,” she repeated.
Judd didn’t look any more comfortable with her double thanks than he had with the protective-custody arrangement. “I’ve got some things to do,” he mumbled when Rosy and the boys started down the stairs, and without even sparing Cleo another glance, Judd turned and walked out.
Cleo made sure she was smiling again when she faced the boys.
“I got the stupid bed on the top,” Little Leo announced, and since he was grinning, he obviously approved of that.
Beckham, however, wasn’t anywhere close to grinning, and she had no doubts—none—that the “stupid” adjective had been his.
“Will you stay, too?” Isaac asked.
Cleo glanced at Buck to make sure that was okay, and she gave Isaac a nod after Buck gave her one. “But I think I’ll look for a nonstupid bed,” she joked. But only Little Leo and Rosy laughed.
“I was going to show the boys around,” Rosy said. “Thought they might like to meet the horses.”
“And the chickens,” Leo insisted.
Rosy patted his head. “And the chickens.”
“I’ll take them out,” Buck offered. “I could use some fresh air.”
Rosy didn’t seem certain about that at all. Neither was Cleo, since Buck still looked a little weak and pale. But she didn’t object when Buck led the boys through the kitchen and out the back door. However, both Rosy and Cleo went to the window to keep watch.
“Thank you for doing this,” Cleo told the woman. “I know it’s a lot to ask.”
“The boys need help.” Rosy’s attention drifted from Buck and the kids to Judd’s cabin. It was only slightly more than a stone’s throw away.
And there was Judd.
He, too, was at a window, his gaze on Buck. He was talking to someone on the phone, and like Rosy, there was plenty of concern on his face. Plenty of hotness, too. He looked very much like the cowboy who could have hands-down won that audition for the bachelorette party.
“Still a little gaga over him, aren’t you?” Rosy said.
Cleo nearly attempted some kind of denial, but what was the point? Rosy didn’t need Buck’s ESP to figure that out. “Judd the Stud,” Cleo remarked, causing Rosy to hoot with laughter.
“Good one. He does get plenty of attention from the women around here. Including women who aren’t exactly free to give that attention, if you know what I mean.”
Cleo did indeed know what Rosy meant. Judd had those incredible Laramie looks, and even with his eternally broody mood, that wouldn’t deter lustful glances and attempts to snag him.
“Dr. Audrey Holcomb,” Cleo said as she watched Buck lead the boys into the barn. Leo was skipping along. Isaac, quietly following. And Beckham was giving Judd a run for the “broody mood” crown. “Either she’s already snagged Judd or would like to do that.”
Rosy made a sound of agreement, lifted her shoulder. “I think she’s more the ‘liking to do that’ sort. I can’t say for a hundred percent sure, but Judd doesn’t make it a habit of bringing women here to his bed.”
Ironic, since that’s exactly where Cleo had landed when they’d been sixteen. In that bed on rumpled sheets and with the hottest guy in Texas ridding her of her virginity. She suspected that plenty of women regretted their choice of first lovers, but no regrets for her.
She was betting, though, that Judd didn’t feel the same way.
Judd likely felt that old intimacy between them had come back to bite him in the butt. And that meant Cleo owed him big-time. And a whole boatload of thank-yous wasn’t going to do it. She needed to show her gratitude by working out a solution for the boys that didn’t involve him.
“This has really shaken Judd, you know,” Rosy went on. “Might not seem that way to most folks, but you and I can see it just fine.”
Yes, Cleo could indeed see it. She didn’t know all the details of what’d happened to Judd before he’d come to Buck’s, but she’d heard enough to know that he’d likely been on the receiving end of much more abuse than the boys had. It was the reason that Judd drank.
Correction: it was the reason he was an alcoholic.
“We’ll need to keep an eye on him to make sure this doesn’t set him back,” Rosy quietly added.
Oh, God. That fired a fresh blast of worry through Cleo. “How long has he been sober?”
“Not long enough.”
Well, crap. Cleo shut her eyes a moment and groaned. She darn sure hadn’t brought this to Judd to have it undo the progress he’d made.
When Judd finished his call and stepped away from his window, Cleo figured it was a good time for them to talk. Too bad she didn’t have options that would take him out of the picture that he didn’t want to be in, but she could run some possibilities by him.
And be certain that Judd wasn’t about to take a drink that he might feel he needed.
“I’ll be right back,” Cleo told Rosy. She didn’t expect this to be a long conversation. In fact, it might not even happen at all. Judd could be so riled that he might not speak to her.
Cleo hurried out and across the yard to Judd’s front porch. She was ready to knock, but the door was already open. The screen door was shut, but she could still see into the cabin, and since it was one big room, she had no trouble spotting Judd.
Naked.
Well, almost. He was shirtless, bootless and his jeans were unzipped. Cleo felt the quick zing of heat that left her “less,” too. Breathless. Mindless.
And suddenly wanting another taste of Judd Laramie.
Again, because of the small space, Judd immediately saw her, and while he didn’t actually huff, that’s what it looked as if he wanted to do.
“I was about to shower and go back to work,” he said.
That should have been her cue to go, but her feet had seemingly adhered to the porch. “I came over to thank you,” she said. “And check on you. And maybe go over some possible fixes for the boys.”
Along with feet-to-floor adhesion, she’d obviously contracted a severe case of babbling.
It didn’t help that the nearly naked Judd was standing right next to the bed where she’d made her sexual debut with him. Because it’d been pitch-dark that night, she certainly hadn’t seen as much of him then as she was seeing now. The man certainly had a filled-out, toned body. Probably a result of the ranch work and the bench and weights in the corner of the room.
Judd kept his hands on the waist of his jeans—it was the stance of someon
e waiting for her to leave so he could finish stripping down. When she didn’t leave, Judd blew out a long breath and walked toward her.
Because he hadn’t zipped back up, the flap of his jeans shifted and moved, giving her the answer to a burning question. Boxers, not briefs. Judging from the flat look he gave her, he had no burning questions about her.
He pushed open the screen door, holding it in place with his shoulder and thereby blocking the doorway. The stance also put him very close to her. Oh, mercy. He smelled all man, and that wasn’t in a “you need a shower” manly kind of way. It was more like musky, leathery foreplay to her suddenly aroused body.
“I need to put in a couple of hours at work,” he said. “Then we can talk about the boys.”
Cleo nodded and balled her hands into fists to stop herself from reaching out and touching him. She wasn’t a teenager anymore and could certainly put her hormones in check before Judd figured out she was lusting over him.
Too late.
When their gazes connected and held, she could tell that he’d already seen it. No flat look now but a heated one that he obviously wasn’t happy about. Since it had already become a seriously big gorilla in the room, Cleo just went with it.
She tipped her head to the bed and made a pinching motion with her fingers. “That’s the site of my first butt-cheek pinching. Your butt cheek,” she said to clarify and hoped it would lighten the mood. “It was a fantasy of mine.”
Well, he sure didn’t smile. But he did zip up his jeans as if concerned she might have another go at him. “I remember. It was an odd fantasy.”
Cleo shrugged. “I think it got all tied up with the realization that a really good butt pinch would have required you to be naked.”
“Still...” he said as if he wasn’t convinced that it was the best of fantasies.
“Oh, I had others, but I figured I’d sprung enough on you.” She paused, then asked, “Do you regret it happened?”
“The butt pinch or the sex?” Judd countered so fast that it made her laugh. And she was so playing with fire here. She knew it. He knew it. Heck, his butt cheek knew it, too.
“I don’t regret either,” she admitted. “You were good.” Which, of course, was a weak and puny description. He’d been incredible. Just a little awkwardness and a whole lot of the stuff that’d made it incredible. “Do you recall what you said to me that night after you brought me here?”
Obviously he didn’t because Judd just gave her a blank stare. “I said I’d be gentle with you?”
She could tell that was a guess. A wrong one, but it was a solid effort. And he had indeed been gentle. Well, until she hadn’t wanted him to be, but Judd had sussed out when to make the switch and go harder and faster for the finish line.
“You said that was your first pinch on the butt and that you’d never forget it,” Cleo said.
He shook his head, grimaced a little. “Obviously, I needed to work on my silver-tongue skills.”
“Oh, you did just fine, tongue included.”
Their gazes continued to hold and the heat kept on spiking until they heard the sound of the approaching car. No. Not a car, Cleo quickly realized. A motorcycle. And, once she turned around, she saw two riders sitting on it.
Judd spat out some profanity and hurried back into the cabin. Obviously, he wasn’t happy about these visitors, and Cleo soon joined him in the unhappy camp when the beefy guy stopped the motorcycle and got off. So did the woman who’d been riding behind him.
Lavinia.
She yanked off the helmet that she’d been wearing and stormed straight toward Cleo.
CHAPTER SIX
JUDD DIDN’T LIKE the idea of facing down trouble when he was half-dressed, but that’s what he got for hanging around in the doorway and half-assed flirting with Cleo. Now he was going to have to pay for that by being barefoot while he confronted a woman who for damn certain hadn’t come here to pinch his butt.
She was here to bust his balls.
He pulled on his shirt, the one with his badge attached, as he hurried back outside. Still barefoot. Just in the nick of time, too. Cleo was already off the porch and in the yard, and she was right in Lavinia’s rage-tightened face.
Lavinia was even less dressed than Judd because she, too, was barefoot and was wearing the same housedress/nightgown garb that she’d had on earlier. So, she’d likely come in a hurry.
But she hadn’t come alone.
The woman had brought her Harley-riding backup with her. A big guy in a stained wifebeater shirt and orange—yes, orange—leather pants was making his way across the yard. Obviously, he wasn’t moving as fast as Lavinia because he was moseying a good ten feet behind her. Fat that had perhaps once been muscles jiggled and swayed in his belly and thighs, and the motion made Judd wonder if there was enough friction to light a fire.
“You had no right to take my grandkids, you bitch,” Lavinia yelled at Cleo.
Judd glanced around to make sure the boys weren’t hearing any of this, and he groaned when he saw Little Leo come running out of the barn. Buck, Beckham and Isaac were right behind him, and thankfully Buck caught onto Leo and herded them all back inside.
Partly inside, anyway.
Isaac and Leo went with Buck, but Beckham stayed in the barn doorway. Watching, listening and seething.
Cleo made a strange sound. A growl and shudder combined, probably because she was having to suppress a whole bunch of anger and cusswords that she wanted to aim at this hellhound dingbat.
“I’ve got two words for you, Lavinia,” Cleo said, her voice an angry whisper. She made another of those sounds. “Support bra. Buy one and use it or you’ll end up bitch-slapping yourself with one of your own boobs.”
Clearly, Lavinia hadn’t been ready for that particular insult, and she hesitated as if trying to figure out how to respond to it. She also glanced down at the sagging body parts in question and perhaps realized that it was hard to argue with the truth. Even when the truth had nothing to do with anything else that was going on.
Lavinia’s head did an indignant wobble that she probably didn’t know made her look like a strutting rooster. It also set her boobs to swinging. “Yeah, so what? I don’t need hoity-toity fashion advice from the likes of a bar owner. I’m here to take my grandkids.”
“No, you’re not,” Cleo growled. “I won’t let you take them.”
“You and what army?” Lavinia challenged.
“This army.” Judd tapped his badge and moved between the women.
In hindsight, that probably hadn’t been his wisest move because Lavinia spun around, causing her boobs to smack into his chest. Judd nearly told her that he could arrest her for assaulting a police officer, but he’d be too embarrassed to write “boob assault” in a report. Obviously, Lavinia had more than her breasts as potential weapons. She’d used her hand and put some muscle behind it when she’d left those marks on Cleo and the boys.
Lavinia balled up her fist, and she volleyed her attention between Cleo and Judd, as she obviously tried to decide which of them to slug.
“Hit either one of us if you want to spend the night in jail,” Judd warned her, and he shot a glare at the guy just in case he was going to get in on this. However, the man just shrugged, causing more of him to wobble.
“Say, you got any beer?” the man asked. “Long ride, and I’m thirsty. Vinia said there’d be beer.”
Judd’s glare got significantly worse, and the man merely shrugged again.
“I want my grandsons!” Lavinia howled. She aimed her nicotine-stained index finger at Cleo. “She had no right to take them, and I know they’re here. I remember Miranda talking about this place and how much Cleo just loved it here.”
Judd was surprised the woman could piece all of that together. Heck, he was surprised she’d managed to get out of her own house. She reeked of stale beer and cigarette
smoke, and was obviously not a fan of good dental hygiene.
“Cleo didn’t take them,” Judd told her. “I did, after they ran away from you. Now they’re in my protective custody.”
“Protective custody?” she howled. “What the fuck is that?”
Cleo took a step toward her, getting back in Lavinia’s face again. “Watch your language. The boys can hear you.”
Lavinia opened her mouth, no doubt to spew some harsher profanity, but Judd gave her a look that stopped her in her verbal tracks. And he knew he was good at it, too.
“Protective custody is what I have and you don’t,” Judd warned her. “It means you can’t take the boys because you assaulted them.”
“I didn’t do nothing of the sort.” Again, it was a howl. The woman only seemed to have one volume level on her voice. “Is that what they told you? Because if so, it’s a bald-faced lie.”
“Then how’d they get the bruises?” Cleo demanded.
Lavinia hesitated. “They did it to each other. Boys fight, and they get bruises when they fight.”
Cleo’s groan was just as loud as Lavinia’s voice, and Cleo held up her wrist for the woman to see. “They got them the same way I got these. Remember, Lavinia, or do I need to refresh your memory?”
“Vinia, I’m ready for that beer now,” her companion complained.
“Not now, Otto.” Lavinia went with another head wobble in response to Cleo. “You did that to yourself to get me in trouble,” she said smugly.
“I don’t need to do anything to get you in trouble,” Cleo stormed. “You managed to do that all by yourself.”
Judd was about to hurry this along so he could get Lavinia and her beer-requesting friend out of there, but he wasn’t able to launch into a “get lost” order before he heard a sound he didn’t especially want to hear.
A police siren.
He glanced at Buck’s house and saw Rosy in the window. She had her phone pressed to her ear, and since she didn’t especially seem surprised by the cruiser coming in hot, it meant she’d called for it.
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