“Good thing caffeine doesn’t keep us awake at night.”
Brian came into the kitchen and popped a pod into the coffee machine. Less than a minute later he had his steaming cup in hand.
Chase grunted, then sat at the table and took a sip of the brew. “I imagine it might begin to, someday, when we’re older.”
“Huh. Guess we’ll have to decide, when the time comes, if sleep is really worth the sacrifice of late-night coffee.”
Chase grinned. Then he set took a seat at the table. “I’m going to head into town in the morning, after Carrie goes to work, and have a chat with Adam and Matt.”
“You’re thinking about that bastard who attacked our woman when she was barely more than a kid, aren’t you?”
“Damn straight. I didn’t want to say anything to her. She clearly isn’t worried about him at this point. Hell, as far as our Carrie is concerned, that bastard is in the past. But I did the math. Asshole might already be out of jail.”
“Fuck, you’re right. I wasn’t thinking.”
Chase saw reflected on his brother’s face the same disgust he felt.
“Yeah,” Brian said, “best if Adam gets a line on him, pronto.”
“We have the bastard’s name—George Lockwood—and the city—Abilene. With Adam’s connections, it shouldn’t be hard for him to put a trace on the man. Find out if he’s still in the system.”
“If necessary, we’ll get a PI on him. There’s that outfit that Adam and Jake had watching out for Maggie, when she was still in New Jersey.”
Chase nodded. He and his brother were definitely on the same page. “I want to know where that bastard is, and I want to know what he’s doing. He raped another woman after Carrie got away from him? What does that sound like to you, Bri?”
“It sounds like someone who had a temper tantrum because his toy was taken away from him.”
“Exactly. Not too difficult to understand the prick had some kind of obsession going.” Chase narrowed his eyes. “Carrie said he thought she was his gift from God. I don’t care how fucking long that sicko was in jail, or how many gold stars he got for good behavior while he was there. I’m not trusting that he’s rehabilitated.”
“You think he’ll come after her.” The look on Brian’s face told him his brother hadn’t thought of this possibility, until just now.
Chase shrugged. He’d always been a bit more cynical than Brian had been. I guess that cynicism is a natural byproduct for a man when he gets jumped in a New York alley and nearly knifed to death. He reached up and stroked the tiny scar by his eye. “I think it’s our job to take care and protect our woman against the possibility,” Chase said.
Brian opened his mouth, but Chase held up his hand, and turned his head to the side, listening. He’d heard a small sound, the creak of the floorboard just above the stairs. As tired as she was, he didn’t think their woman would have awakened. But she might have sensed she was alone in the bed and done just that.
Moments later a rumpled, sleepy-looking Carrie stood at the door to the kitchen. She sniffed, and then made her way over, and when he opened his arms to her, she crawled into Chase’s lap.
She’d obviously rooted around and pulled on a fresh T-shirt from one of the drawers, which meant she was awake enough to remember the three of them weren’t alone in the house.
Carrie reached out, snagged Brian’s coffee cup, and took a sip. Handing it back to his brother, she reached for his and tasted it. Carrie wrinkled her nose. “I like Brian’s better. Yours is too strong.”
Brian chuckled and Chase grinned. “Oh, really?” Chase put as much pout as he could muster into that.
“I was talking about coffee. Sheesh. The world doesn’t revolve around your cocks, you know.”
Brian raised his cup to his lips and grinned. “That’s not what you were saying an hour ago, darlin’.”
Carrie stuck her tongue out at him. The site of that little pink teaser got Chase hard again. Hell, I might as well face it. Being hard is probably going to be a constant state of being for me around this woman.
“I woke up and the bed was empty. I blinked, and then I smelled the coffee.”
“I see you found the clothes, too, sugar. My T-shirt never looked so good.”
“A lot of the drawers are still empty.” Carrie yawned around her statement.
Brian reached out and stroked her nape to ass, and Carrie purred like a sleepy little kitten.
Chase had already figured out she had no panties on. The shirt that had ended well above her knees when she had been standing in the doorway now hiked up to barely cover her sweet tush.
“Yes, we know. Feel free to bring some stuff over to put in those drawers. There’s plenty of room for your things here, darlin’.”
Carrie yawned again. “Are you asking me to move in?”
“Not yet, because we know you’re not ready to make that big of a commitment.” Chase ran his hand over her head. He loved the silky feel of her short, black hair. It felt softer than the most luxurious silk. “But we do hope you’ll want to stay over sometimes, and we want you to be comfortable. We hope you’ll feel free to leave things here so that you’ll have what you need when you do.”
She lay snuggled in his arms for a moment. Then she said, “Okay, I can do that. I’ll want to go home after work tomorrow. Maybe I’ll pack a bag.”
One thing he could say for their woman, she didn’t play games. He looked over at the clock on the microwave. “It’s nearly three in the morning, Carrie. I think we should go back to bed now.”
“Now you’re talkin’, cowboy.”
Chase chuckled. “To sleep, sugar, not to make love again.” He might call it fucking when they were doing it, because he liked to talk dirty, and judging by the reaction she’d had to it earlier, Carrie liked it, too. But he’d be damned if he referred to their intimacy as anything but what, in his heart and mind, it really was.
“Well, hell. I thought I could have some more loving.” Then she sat up. “Oh, crap, I wasn’t thinking. The two of you are ranchers, so you have to be up before dawn, don’t you?”
“Not today, no,” Chase said. “But you need more sleep.” He stroked his thumb over the area just below her eyes. “You’re lookin’ a mite shadowy there, sugar. You need to rest.”
“That’s just one of the curses of the fair-skinned. Every little thing shows. If I was deeper toned, like the two of you, you wouldn’t be able to see any fatigue on me at all.” Carrie sighed, then laid her head back down on Chase’s shoulder, right in that little indentation God gave men so that they could hold their woman—or their child.
He liked the feel of her head there a lot.
“That very well may be, sweet Carrie.” Brian bent over and kissed her cheek. “But your men are rather insistent that you get a good night’s sleep when you have to work the next day.”
Brian had said the very thing he’d been thinking himself.
“My men. I think I like the sound of that.”
She might claim she wasn’t very tired, but her voice gave her away. “So do we, sugar.”
Brian reached out and picked her up off his lap. “It’s my turn to play Sir Galahad and carry our Carrie up the stairs to bed.”
Carrie giggled, wrapped her arms around Brian’s neck, and said, “I can walk, you know. I’ve been doing it for years.”
“Of course you can,” Chase agreed. He quickly got up, scooped the two coffee cups, and set them by the sink. Then he followed his brother and his lover, catching up with them at the base of the stairs. “Question is, why bother walking when you have two very willing attendants who’re happy to give you a lift? Especially in the wee hours when you’re a lot more exhausted than you want us to know.”
When they entered the bedroom, Brian set their woman on the bed and said, “Scoot over to the middle, darlin’.” Then he walked around to the other side. Before Chase turned out the light, he met his brother’s gaze. They’d discuss how they could best take care of th
eir woman in the morning. Brian nodded, and in that one gesture Chase read steely Benedict determination.
If they had to, they’d get all the men of Lusty involved. Carrie was theirs, and Lusty’s. And Lusty, by damn, took care of her own.
That was, after all, the Benedict way.
Chapter 10
Julián never minded his own company, especially when he could enjoy it surrounded by good country music and the rumble of conversation.
He’d managed to do that a lot over the last few years, and he supposed the habit in many ways symbolized the biggest change he’d experienced in his own personal makeover program.
He didn’t used to like himself much. Now he did.
For a weekday, this bar in the town of Divine, Texas—The Dancing Pony—seemed to have a healthy number of customers. Clean, with a cool, darkened interior, Julián imagined the regulars considered this nightclub a refreshing sanctuary after the heat of a long, hard day at work.
The club featured a large dance floor in the center of the room, and at the moment several couples were two-stepping to “Springsteen” by Eric Church. The seating area surrounded the dance floor on three sides, which told Julián the club was probably very aptly named. Most of the tables were the high-topped, bistro style, with equally tall, cushioned chairs around them. Against one wall he saw an enclosed DJ booth. He’d bet the place got hopping on a Friday or Saturday night.
When he’d come into the club he’d been hot and tired, and so had headed straight to the bar. He’d arrived ahead of the others, which was just as well. He really did appreciate some alone time. Alone time was thinking time and he had a hell of a lot on his mind.
It was great that he’d mended the rift with his brother, and that he and Peter were friends again. He’d immediately liked his new brother- and sister-in-law. Julián could admit that he really was okay with his brother having a wife and a husband. I guess I have come a long way, after all.
He liked his bosses, and he liked Lusty. He liked everyone he’d met in the small town of his roots, so far.
All of which confused the hell out of him, and did nothing to explain the whispers growing in volume deep inside of him.
He’d really hoped that when he got to Lusty he’d know that that was where he belonged. But damn, it just wasn’t feeling like it.
Could he have been wrong? Maybe he wouldn’t really know when he found his place. Maybe that had been some sort of flight of fancy or some other kind of bullshit thinking on his part.
And to hell with this kind of stinkin’ thinkin’. Julián wasn’t given to flights of fancy, period. He’d stay in Lusty until it was time to move on. Since that time wasn’t now—hell, he wasn’t even in Lusty at the moment—he’d let it all go and work on relaxing and having a good time tonight.
Movement out of the corner of his eye snagged his attention. The sweet-looking bundle of woman sitting beside him seemed to be having a really good time, if her barely suppressed snicker was any indication. He surreptitiously watched as she stuck her pretty little pink tongue out to gather some of the salt off the rim of her margarita glass. She seemed very pleased with the taste. Looking up and down the bar, she didn’t even notice him. When she spun around to give the entire club the once-over, it looked as if that move made her dizzy, and he got ready to catch her, just in case she slid out of her chair. Her lush, long dark hair swung as she moved, and he couldn’t stop himself from taking in her delicate, almost fragile beauty and her delectable, womanly curves.
Why, the cute little honey is on her way to getting wasted.
Concern for her came and went, as his mind played back a bit of the exchange earlier between this lovely woman and the bartender. The man had her purse and her car keys, which told him two things. The first was that she must be a regular here, since she knew the bartender well enough to entrust him with her personal property. The second was she might be looking to party, so she might be interested in joining him for a while. Maybe they could have a good time, together.
Maybe they could start their party here at The Dancing Pony and take it back to his motel room. Provided she wasn’t really drunk, of course.
Julián had lines he wouldn’t cross and taking advantage of a drunken woman was one of them.
Delightfully tipsy, now, that was another matter entirely.
Just then she giggled and whispered something that sounded like, “Thank you, Señor Patrón.”
Julián smiled. That was as good an opportunity as any. “What was that, darlin’?” He swung around in his chair so he could face her, smile in place. When she turned and blinked, her sweet eyes wide and innocent-looking, he thought she just might have stolen a tiny piece of his heart right then and there. “You having a good time?” he asked her.
“Yesirreee, I am.” She nodded in emphasis, and then looked as if that action made her just a bit woozy. Her mouth smirked, and he thought she just barely captured another giggle before it escaped. She gave him a very pretty smile. “And how is your evening so far, cowboy?”
Julián angled his chair just a bit closer so he could be better able to meet her gaze. “So far…so good. I’m visiting from out of town.”
Before he could ask the lady her name, a familiar-looking cowboy approached. Julián realized it was one of the men he’d met earlier at the Divine Creek Ranch.
“Jayney! How’re you doin’, sweet cheeks?”
The cowboy reached out his hand. Julián shook it and nodded in greeting even as his mind went off on its own little tangent. Her name is Jayney. Jayne. A pretty name for a pretty woman.
“Good to see you again, Alvarez. You enjoying some of the nightlife while you’re in town?”
Julián had to wonder if the man was warning him away from the pretty young woman. Not being from the area, Julián thought it prudent to step back, mentally, for a moment. He reached for his bottle, and took a sip of his beer. “Yeah, gotta head back in the morning. Chase and Brian Benedict should be here in a little while with Angel, Joaquin, and Teresa. I’m liking the nightlife so far.”
The woman next to him gave a high-pitched squeal as she finally seemed to recognize the other man.
“Buck! Hi! I’m so happy to see you! How have you and Chad been?”
Julián almost raised his eyebrow. Buck and Chad? Maybe the cowboy wasn’t warning him off, then.
Buck gave Jayne a big smile. “Wonderful. Want to come and join us? He’s sitting right over there.” Then Buck turned his attention to Julián. “If you don’t mind, Mister Alvarez?”
Julián had the sense then that over and above whoever Buck might be to Jayne, he was a man interested in her well-being.
Buck didn’t know him from Adam and couldn’t know he wouldn’t take undue advantage of her. Can’t blame the man for looking out for a friend. “Not at all,” Julián said to Buck. Then he switched his gaze to Jayne. “But save me a dance, darlin’?”
“Sure!” She reached out and laid her hand on his chest, and Julián had to work at keeping his cock from standing at attention. When she petted him, he damn near lost that battle. He liked the feel of her hand, a lot.
“I sure will, cowboy,” Jayne said.
He tipped his hat to Jayne and grinned. Damn, but that woman made him want to smile. Then he nodded to Buck.
Jayne giggled as Buck put his arm around her waist and escorted her over to a table in the corner.
Julián turned back to his beer, but figured he could keep an eye on them, using the mirror behind the bar. If it looked as if either of the two men were interested in sweet little Jayne, he’d stay where he was. He didn’t poach, which was another of his do-not-cross lines. If, however, neither of them exerted a claim, why, then, he had every intention of collecting that dance.
Whether he tried for anything more than a dance would just depend on whether or not Jayne was only a little tipsy, or a lot.
The music played, more people came in, and it seemed to Julián that the trio at that table in the back might be friends,
but they weren’t, any of them, intimate.
When a man was with a woman who’d been his lover, it showed. He’d noticed it time and again as he’d watched people in the Big Apple, and then again as he’d traveled the rodeo circuit.
Julián blinked as he assimilated that little bit of information. Good, then, they’re not any of them now, nor have they ever been lovers. Julián smiled. There was at least a dance in his immediate future.
Jayne certainly was one fine-looking woman. He could never understand why some girls wanted to starve themselves and look like sticks. Julián appreciated a woman he could wrap his arms around, one who’d take him on and give him a nice, soft, sexy ride.
Shit. He adjusted his seat on the barstool. His little brain had better settle down and stop trying to take over the night’s agenda.
He promised it that if it behaved it might earn a mighty fine reward, indeed, by and by.
Julián flicked his eyes to the table where Jayne and her friends Buck and Chad appeared to be in deep conversation. He had no idea what they were saying, of course. But it looked as if Jayne had given them some bad news. Both men looked unhappy…and a bit uncomfortable. The one who’d come to fetch her, Buck, looked to be adjusting his seat the same way Julián had just done. Interesting.
The waitress had come over a few minutes before, and now she returned and dropped off a tall glass at their table. Buck slid it over to Jayne and pointed at it and then her.
Julián smiled. It looked to him as if Buck had seen to it the lady took in some good old H20.
He bided his time for a few more minutes, watching and waiting. He set his beer down and caught the bartender’s eye. “I’ll take another one, please.” It would only be his second of the night. “I’m just going to go see if I can interest a beautiful woman in dancing with me.”
The bartender nodded, grinned, and said, “Good luck.”
Julián eased to his feet and slowly ambled over toward that corner table. He could hear them, just a little, but needed to get a lot closer before he would be able to make out—
Love Under Two Cowboys [The Lusty, Texas Collection] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) Page 11