Montana Mavericks: a hot cowboy collection

by Rebecca Zanetti

  Juliet grinned. “Hi, Leila. Loni. There’s a small get-together in the kitchen. Come on in.”

  “Whoo-hoo,” Leila yelped, releasing her grandmother to skip down the hall.

  Loni crossed the threshold, her head tilted. “Quinn sent us to check on you. They’ve set Jacoby’s funeral for the day after tomorrow. Poor Melanie.”

  Remembered sadness washed through Juliet. Being alone made the world a darker place. “Melanie has you and your family, Loni. She’ll be all right.”

  Loni slipped an arm around Juliet’s waist. “You have us, too. Don’t forget that.”

  Temporarily, it felt nice to belong. “Thank you.”

  They entered the kitchen as Leila dropped to one knee, her gaze on Amy’s sandals. “Are those Manolo Blahniks?”

  “No.” Amy glanced down at the three-inch heels. “They’re Christian Louboutin.”

  Leila gasped, her eyes widening. “They’re so pretty.” She stood and ran to her grandmother. “I love shoes.”

  Loni ran a hand down Leila’s dark hair. “I know, sweetie. I do, too.” She glanced around the kitchen, a small smile playing on her face. “Well, this is nice, isn’t it?”

  “Very.” Joan took a healthy swallow of her beer, her disgruntled gaze wandering again to Amy’s dress.

  Juliet sipped more of her beer. The only thing missing from the party was—

  The door to the garage opened, and Quinn Lodge stepped inside. He stopped, his gaze on the gathering of women. A laugh bubbled up in Juliet, but she quashed it. If a “holy shit” expression existed, Quinn was wearing it.

  Leila leaped for him. He caught her easily against his chest and smacked a kiss on her forehead. “Hi, Uncle Quinn. Juliet’s having a party.”

  Loni bustled forward and pecked him on the cheek. “We stopped by to keep Juliet company, and turns out she had some visitors. Isn’t this wonderful?”

  He settled his hand on the butt of his gun in a natural pose. “Ah, yes. Very nice. I, ah, dropped by to grab the spotlight I left in my garage. There’s a wreck on the interstate.” He set Leila down, his gaze on Juliet. “I might be late.”

  She nodded, her face heating. Maybe the blush resulted from Loni’s delighted grin. Maybe it resulted from the heat in Quinn’s gaze. Or maybe it resulted from the glares from the other two women in the room.

  Quinn had already shut the door behind himself and escaped to the garage before she regained her voice.

  …

  Juliet awoke from a deep sleep to glance at Quinn’s bedside clock. Three in the morning. Something shuffled at the bathroom doorway, and Quinn strode into the room with that male grace she had begun to recognize.

  She sat up and clicked on the lamp. “I’m awake.”

  Wet hair curled around his ears, and he’d tied a towel around his masculine hips. Lines of exhaustion cut into the sides of his mouth, and dark stubble covered his chin. “Sorry if I woke you up.”

  “I didn’t even hear the shower.” She shoved curls out of her face. “You okay?”

  “Fine.” He dropped the towel and slipped under the covers, reaching over his shoulder to turn off the lamp.

  Instant heat radiated toward her. Should she go back to sleep? Perhaps give him some space?

  He made up her mind for her by rolling onto his back and tugging her on top of him. Gentle hands smoothed the hair away from her face. “The wreck was a bad one, but the ambulance arrived in time. I think everyone might be all right.”

  “Good.” She settled more comfortably against his hard body. Soft moonlight filtered in through the shades, and his eyes blazed through the dim. “You were gone a long time.”

  “Just a couple of hours. After clearing the scene, I had two DV calls to take. I hate those.” His hand wandered down her back and cupped her butt.

  Heat spiraled through her abdomen. “That means domestic violence, right?”

  “Yep. Worse calls ever. I arrested several people tonight—both men and women.” He caressed her rear. “Let’s talk about something else. How long did your party last?”

  A grin tickled her cheeks. “You mean the get-together of women who want Quinn Lodge? Everyone left after you made your appearance.”

  He snorted. “Funny.”

  “Not really.” She wiggled against his groin just enough to cause his eyes to flare. “This is an awkward question, but I feel the need to ask it. Are you, um, seeing either Joan or Amy?”

  “No.” He tugged her T-shirt over her head, leaving her in flimsy panties. “I have never dated Joan but did have one unfortunate night with Amy about a year ago after a fundraiser. We all make mistakes.”

  Jealousy zinged in a weird electric arc into her heart. “She still likes you.”

  “I like you.” His voice deepened to a dark tone that wandered right through her skin and warmed her. Everywhere.

  “I like you, too.” She pressed a gentle kiss against his nose and then looked closer. “Is that a bruise on your chin?”

  “Probably.” His hands flattened on her butt, pressing her onto his rapidly hardening cock. Even his thighs felt powerful and strong against her. “One of the guys didn’t want to be cuffed. We, ah, scuffled.”

  She took a deep breath, not really having considered the danger he faced every day. “Are you hurt anywhere else?”

  “You’ll have to discover that for yourself, darlin’.” He grinned. “Why don’t you start with my mouth?”

  “Why don’t I,” she murmured, brushing his lips with hers.

  His mouth captured hers. Deep, strong, he commanded the kiss like he did everything else in his life. Liquid fire rippled through her. Wetness coated her thighs. Her lips trembled and parted for him. He angled his head, depending the kiss.

  A click resounded inside her head. Fire and home. She was home.

  At the frightening thought, she lifted her head. Her breath panted out. Tingles erupted on her lips.

  “I wasn’t quite done kissing you, Juliet,” he rumbled, his dark gaze on her mouth.

  “What makes you think you’re always in charge?” She slid her knees up to straddle him.

  He grinned and slipped his fingers in the waistband of her panties. “If I were in charge, you wouldn’t still be wearing these.” A quick tug, and he yanked them off.

  She settled back into place and lifted an eyebrow. “I’m no longer wearing those.”

  “I guess I am in charge.” He flipped them over and began easing inside her, going slow but not pausing, until he thrust the final inch inside her with one strong push.

  With the shock of his entry, she cried out, her body arching into his. Mini-explosions rocketed through her sex. Flashes of light erupted behind her closed eyes. Need cut into her with sharp, demanding blades.

  She tangled her hands in his hair, rearing up to kiss him. Hard.

  He returned the kiss, his movements slow and drugging. Sexy and deep, he kissed her, consuming all her fear and uncertainty. She relaxed into the safe cocoon created by Quinn Lodge, melted into him with a sense of trust she’d never shared with another person.

  His body impaling hers, his mouth destroying hers, he stripped her of any lingering defenses.

  Finally, he lifted his head. “You are the most perfect creature I could’ve ever imagined.”

  She swallowed, her eyes widening, her heart softening. “Quinn—”

  “Shh.” He kissed her again, pulling almost out and then sliding back home. “Just feel.”

  So she did. She slid her hands down to his shoulders. Muscles bunched against her palms as his mouth wandered along her jawline and down her neck.

  He pushed hard into her, his pelvis slanting against her clit. Heat zipped up to her breasts, pebbling her nipples. His chest brushed the sensitive buds as he increased his speed, pounding into her until the headboard banged the wall.

&nb
sp; Her thighs clasped his, and she tilted up to take more of him. To take all of him.

  He thrust harder, his fingers digging into her hip. A ball of fire slowly uncoiled inside her. Then, with a flash of lightning, it detonated into a series of explosions that arched her back. She cried out his name, her nails digging into his skin. Wave upon wave of electric pleasure pumped through her until finally, she went limp.

  With a growl of her name, he ground against her and came.

  After several deep breaths, he dropped his forehead to hers. The friendly intimacy slid contentment into her smile. She patted his shoulder. “Sorry about the fingernails.”

  “I’ll wear your marks any day.” He withdrew, smiling at her brief whine of protest. Rolling to his side, he spooned her in safety and warmth. “I like having you here, Juliet.”

  “I like being here.” She rubbed his arm. “I’m sorry you had a rough night.”

  “The night just got a lot better…and drop the society tone. I’m not too tired to spank you.” Lazy amusement colored his voice, yet an edge always lived within Quinn.

  She swallowed. “That’s how I speak.”

  “Only when you’re uncomfortable or trying to control a situation.” He tightened his hold. “Before I forget, I was hoping you and Sophie would take Anabella Rush out this weekend. Maybe to a dinner and movie or something like that. My mom agreed to babysit her kids.”

  Juliet snuggled into the pillow. “Sure. I’ve met Anabella quite a few times and really like her. Why are you her social organizer?”

  “I think the woman needs a night out. Her husband is still overseas, and she needs a break.”

  The tough, gun-toting sheriff was a softy. “I’d be happy to help.” A sudden vision of what life could be like if she stayed with Quinn filled Juliet’s mind. She’d be called upon to help with the community, to be a part of so many lives. The sharp desire to be included in such a way stunned her.

  “Thanks.” He pressed a kiss to the back of her head, his voice slurring with exhaustion. “I’m excited for your showing tomorrow night. You’re my date, right?”

  Her smile heated her cheeks. “Yes. I’m your date.”

  “Excellent.”

  Time to tell him everything.

  Quinn began snoring in her ear. Poor guy was exhausted. Well, she’d take the reprieve and tell him all in the morning. Yes, she was a coward and was just fine with that.

  She closed her eyes, but her mind kept wandering to the showing. Had she gotten everything ready? What if she’d forgotten something? And where the heck was her laptop? While she’d backed everything up, having her gallery invaded gave her the creeps. Was her past catching up with her?

  Finally, she dropped into sleep.

  She’d slept for a while before something startled her awake. Her heart smacked against her ribs. She gazed around the unfamiliar room.

  A low growl jerked her head up. She slowly turned and scooted up in the bed.

  Quinn lay on his side, sweat dotting his upper back. The bedcovers had been shoved to his waist. A tortured groan roiled from his gut.

  She forgot his instructions and reached out to place a cool hand on his shoulders.

  He moved faster than she could’ve imagined, rolling over, forcing her down, and pinning her with his body. One broad hand wrapped around her throat. His heart beat hard enough she could feel it through her chest.

  “Quinn,” she whispered, her trembling hands caressing his chest. “Quinn? It’s me, Juliet. Wake up, baby.”

  His eyes shot open. They weren’t focused. His hold tightened.

  “Quinn, wake up.” She put more force into her whisper. “Wake up, now.”

  Awareness filtered into his dark eyes, followed quickly by horror. He moved his hand. “Jesus, Juliet. I’m sorry.” He made to roll off her.

  She shot her legs around his waist and her hands onto his shoulders. “Don’t move away.”

  He closed his eyes and his body vibrated. “Let go of me.”

  “No.” She caressed his chest. “I’m okay. You’re fine. You had a nightmare, and you didn’t hurt me.” She rubbed his whiskers. “Open your eyes.”

  He did, and the regret in them broke her heart. So she smiled. “I’m fine. You move like an old, slow mare.”

  An unwilling smile lifted his lip. “I’m neither old nor slow.”

  His grin relaxed her shoulders. “Unfortunately, you were so slow, I was afraid I’d hurt you, Sheriff. We might need to get you a personal trainer.”

  He snorted. “A trainer?”

  “Don’t worry. I took a karate class years ago. I’ll protect us,” she said.

  He lowered himself onto his elbows. “Are you sure I didn’t hurt you?”

  “Nope. Not at all.” She could help him through this—she really could. “I promise.”

  “Did I scare you?” He lost his smile.

  “No.” She kept hers in place. “Honest. I knew you’d never hurt me—and you didn’t.”

  Uncertainty had him pausing. “All right.” His phone buzzed from the table. He grabbed and pressed it to his ear. “Lodge.” He sighed. “I’ll be right there.” Hanging up, he dropped a kiss on her mouth. “Home invasion on the south side of the county. Gotta go, darlin’.” He kissed her deeper until all her bones turned to mush. “I’m looking forward to our date tonight and your amazing gallery opening.”

  “Me too,” she said.

  He sat up, his back to her. “Juliet? This, um, means a lot. That you’re here and willing to work on this. That you trust me.”

  The words slammed her in the stomach. She trusted him not to hurt her, but she hadn’t trusted him to still care about her once he knew the truth. “I do trust you—and I, ah, have a lot to tell you.”

  He looked over his shoulder. “Now?”

  “No. You have to go, and I need to finish getting ready for the show. Tonight, after the show, I’d like to tell you about my crazy family and the trouble they’ve gotten me in.”

  He smiled and somehow, the world brightened. “I look forward to it.”

  Juliet forced an answering smile. “Me, too.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  The gallery opening and art showing was a huge success. People still packed the gallery, although the show would end in less than ten minutes. Juliet wound through bodies, her cheeks flushed.

  Reaching Sophie’s side, she leaned over to whisper, “I’ve had six offers on Storm over Maverick.” The incredible oil was alive with dark thunderclouds and jagged lightning. “You’re going to need to meet with your tax guy to plan next year.”

  Sophie beamed. “How wonderful.” She tipped back her head and finished her non-alcoholic apple cider and set the glass to the side. “A reporter from Los Angeles interviewed me. He’s doing a piece on Western art and how the modern paintings compare with the early Remington, Gollings, and Seltzer work.”

  Juliet clapped her hands. “I’m so happy for you.”

  “I, of course, mentioned the Maverick Gallery at least ten times,” Sophie said.

  Juliet grabbed a flute of non-alcoholic cider from a bustling waiter and handed the bubbly to the star of the hour. “You’re a good friend, Sophie Lodge.”

  “Ah, Juliet…I’m hoping we end up more than friends.” Sophie glanced over to where Quinn and Jake huddled near an open window. “That man is in love.”

  “So am I.” Juliet’s gaze ran over the sheriff. Even in the dark suit with a crisp white shirt, a sense of wildness surrounded the man. Contained wildness.

  The caterer waved Juliet over.

  “Excuse me,” she murmured to Sophie. Turning on her decadent three-inch heels, she glided around people to the makeshift kitchen. “How are things going, Raul?”

  The stooped man tossed a white braid over his shoulder. A former chef from France, Raul had retired to Montan
a years ago. He had to be in his mid-eighties at the earliest. “Excellent. It’s time to cut off the champagne and collect the empty trays.”

  “You’re the boss.” Juliet laughed and headed into the chaos of the empty kitchen.

  “Now that’s a laugh I’ve missed.” A low voice echoed from around the corner.

  Fear made Juliet’s ears ring. “Freddy,” she said.

  “JJ.” Her stepbrother came into the room, his smirk baring sharp incisors.

  “Darn it, Fred. How did you find me?” Her hands trembled.

  He rubbed his nose. “I may not be as smart as you, but I can figure some stuff out.”

  “Get out of here, or I’ll call the cops.” Would her past ever leave her alone? She forced herself to keep from running for the hills.

  “The cops? Or Sheriff Snuggle-Bunny?” Freddy asked.

  Freddy knew about Quinn. Her knees weakened. “There’s nothing snuggly about Quinn Lodge. He’ll take you out back and skin you like the weasel you are.”

  “Don’t call names.” Freddy flashed the diamond in his incisor. A Third Street hooker once told him diamonds in teeth were cool. His tailored leather jacket, black jeans, and spotless cowboy boots couldn’t be more out of place in Maverick, Montana. Of course, he only wore the boots because they gave him a couple extra inches in height.

  “You look like My Cousin Vinny. Without the charm,” Juliet muttered.

  “I kinda like that movie, Juliet Jennifer Spazzoli.” He snorted. “Montgomery suits you better.”

  Montgomery had been her maternal great-grandmother’s maiden name. “Why are you here?”

  “What? I can’t meet up with family? It’s been too long.” He shoved an entire canapé in his mouth.

  If she screamed, Quinn would come running. “Did you break into the gallery yesterday?”

  Freddy lifted a narrow shoulder. “I needed a computer and figured my little sister would lend me one.”

  “What’s the truth, Freddy?” she asked.

  “I need help.” His beady eyes beseeched her. “For old time’s sakes.”

  The door opened, and Quinn stepped into the kitchen. “Hey? Are there any more of those shrimp deals—” His chin lowered as he took in the situation with one glance. “Who’s your friend, Juliet?”