Betting On The Maverick (Montana Mavericks: What Happened At The Wedding 3)

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Betting On The Maverick (Montana Mavericks: What Happened At The Wedding 3) Page 7

by Cindy Kirk


  As far as Brad was concerned Justin would always be the pain-in-the-ass younger brother determined to tag along with him and Nate. When Justin didn’t get his way, he could be a real jerk. Like the time he put snakes in Brad’s boots.

  Brad clamped his hand on Justin’s arm when he started to rise. “Sit.”

  “Sorry, bro.” Justin appeared amused. “Not my keeper.”

  “You play out my hand,” Brad told him. “Keep the winnings.”

  Justin thought for a second then grinned. “Wait until I tell Nate. He’ll never believe it.”

  “Shut up and play the cards,” Brad said mildly, deliberately bumping against Justin when he stood.

  He crossed the room, feeling less sure of himself with each stride. This uncertainty was a new feeling. From the time he’d been fifteen, Brad had known just what to say to girls and then, as he grew older, to women.

  He and Nate used to joke they’d grown up being irresistible to the opposite sex. Now Nate was married and the owner of the new Maverick Manor hotel. Two years ago he’d even run for mayor of Rust Creek Falls. He’d lost to Collin Traub, a fact that had only fueled the fire between the two families.

  Now that their sister Nina had married a Traub, a truce of sorts had come to pass.

  “Well, if it isn’t Brad Crawford.” The brunette—Leila—served up a sunny smile. “We were just talking about you.”

  “Is that right?” Brad felt his natural ease returning under the warmth of her admiring gaze.

  “Were you talking about me, too?” a voice behind him asked.

  Brad turned to find Justin standing there. He frowned. “I thought you were playing my hand.”

  Justin shrugged. “I folded.”

  “I had four kings.” Brad had to restrain the impulse to wrap his hands around his brother’s neck and squeeze tightly.

  “If you thought it was such a good hand, you should have stayed and played it yourself,” Justin said in a matter-of-fact tone before flashing the women an enticing Crawford smile. “Margot and Leila. Right?”

  Brad gritted his teeth. “My pain-in-the-ass brother, Justin.”

  “Oh, we remember Justin.” A trill that some men might find sexy filled Leila’s voice. “He was an über-hot senior when Margot and I were lowly freshmen.”

  Margot’s gaze met Brad’s but he couldn’t tell what the glint in her eyes meant.

  “Why don’t I snag a table?” Justin suggested, his gaze returning to Margot. “We can get reacquainted.”

  “Forget the table.” Leila swiveled on the stool and stood. “I didn’t come to sit and talk. I came to dance.”

  The brunette smiled seductively at Brad, just as Justin took a step closer to Margot. Utilizing the swift footwork he’d once displayed on the ball field, Brad stepped in between the two, took Margot’s hand and pulled her to him. “Good idea. Let’s dance.”

  Once they were out of earshot, Margot gave a little chuckle. “Aren’t you the smooth one?”

  “I am the big brother.”

  Margot tossed back her head and gave a throaty laugh. There was no time for silly chitchat as the band launched into a series of songs practically demanding a raucous two-step. By the time the set ended, Brad and Margot weren’t the only ones breathing hard. To slow things down, the quartet chose a love song to lead off the next set.

  Sometimes, Brad thought, you just know there is a God.

  His arms wrapped around Margot and they moved together in time to the music. She fit perfectly in his arms, her body soft and molding to his. The light flowery scent of her perfume mixed with the fresh aroma of her shampoo created an enticing combination.

  “I didn’t realize you were playing poker here this evening.” She sounded almost apologetic. “I thought you played at someone’s house.”

  “It’s easier to meet here.”

  “Do you come every Saturday night?”

  “Usually.” Brad deliberately kept his answers short and sweet. Though he didn’t mind talking poker, this discussion had to remind Margot what happened the night before her father disappeared.

  Out of the corner of his eye, Brad caught sight of Leila and Justin on the other side of the dance floor, their bodies glued together. “Looks like those two are getting acquainted.”

  Margot turned in his arms. “Leila was hoping for some action this evening. Appears she’s headed in that direction.”

  “Perhaps I should have asked her to dance.” The second the words left his mouth, Brad knew they’d been a mistake.

  Margot stiffened in his arms.

  “It may not be too late.” The green eyes that met his were edged in ice. “I’m sure you can figure out a way to make the change. You are, after all, the big brother.”

  For some reason, the comment made him laugh and in seconds Margot was laughing, too.

  “I’m right where I want to be.” Brad kept his tone light.

  When she glanced curiously up at him, he offered a benign smile. “No one can two-step like a cowgirl.”

  “I love to dance,” Margot admitted.

  When the band launched back into another series of fast-moving songs, they stayed on the sawdust strewn floor for another set, before collapsing into some seats at a recently vacated table.

  Brad gestured to the server for two beers then settled his gaze on Margot. This seemed the perfect opportunity to find out more about her. “What did you and Leila do this evening?”

  She told him about their trip to the pizza place in Kalispell, which he admitted was one of his favorites and then about the ice cream store.

  “Did you try the s’mores flavor?”

  Margot thought for a moment then shook her head. “I didn’t see it on the menu. If it had been there, I definitely would have given it a try.”

  “They don’t have it all the time.” He smiled, thinking how nice it would be to share ice cream with her.

  He pulled himself up short, barely stifling a snort. Yeah, and maybe they could go pick flowers together, too.

  Still, he did approve of her choice of pizza. They chatted easily, the conversation flowing like a freshwater stream. They’d just made the leap from food to horses, when Justin and Leila appeared at the table.

  “I’m going to show Justin my father’s new hunting cabin.”

  Margot lifted a brow. “In the dark?”

  Leila’s lips curved slightly. “There’s a full moon tonight.”

  Margot glanced from her friend to Justin. “Don’t worry about coming back for me. I can find a ride home.”

  “You can ride home with me,” Brad said, then turned to Leila. “If you can take Justin home.”

  Leila and Justin exchanged smiles.

  “I can do that.” Leila elbowed him. “But if he’s not good, he might have to walk home.”

  “Oh, baby, I’ll be good,” Justin promised.

  It was all Brad could do to stifle a gag. Still, as he walked Margot to his truck and opened the door for her, Brad couldn’t help thinking he owed his brother. This couldn’t have worked out better if he’d planned it.

  Now, he just had to figure out a way to snag himself a little honey in the form of a good-night kiss or, if he was really lucky, something more.

  Chapter Eight

  On the drive back to the Leap of Faith Ranch, Margot was pleased to discover her head didn’t ache from all the dancing and the noise. Perhaps the glass of wine she’d had with the pizza and the few sips of beer had relaxed her more than she realized.

  Or perhaps it was Brad’s company. The realization surprised her. Though she hesitated to describe him as a restful kind of guy, he was accomplished in the art of small talk and kept the conversation flowing with seemingly little effort. After spending the past few years around cowboys who could only
talk rodeo, this was a refreshing change.

  “Do you think you’ll be seeing Leila again before she heads back to Atlanta?” Brad slanted a sideways glance at her as he turned onto a gravel road that would eventually lead them to the ranch.

  “I can’t say for sure since she has her niece’s christening tomorrow and her parents’ anniversary party the day after that, but the odds are good.” Margot leaned back, a slight smile curving her lips. “She’s already going stir-crazy and she hasn’t even been here forty-eight hours. She asked me how one can be expected to exist without a Starbucks.”

  Brad smiled at that. “Sounds as if she won’t be moving back.”

  Margot laughed and shook her head. “Not a snowball’s chance.”

  “Big-city life can be seductive,” he said in a low tone that made something in her belly quiver.

  It wasn’t the comment, she knew, but the way those smooth, firm lips lingered over the word “seductive” and the way her mind immediately leaped to all that the word implied.

  “Mmm-hmm,” she murmured, remembering that brief taste of his lips when she’d planted that kiss on him and surprised them both.

  “Once you finish with your rodeo career, do you see yourself coming back?”

  It was virtually the same discussion she’d had with Leila earlier this evening.

  “I’d like to settle here.” Her gaze turned pensive. “I’ve thought about offering a series of barrel-racing boot camps. The majority would be designed for the serious rider who wants to increase their speed and proficiency. Others could be like a dude ranch introduction to the sport.”

  Surprise widened his eyes. “You’ve given this a lot of thought.”

  “Not really.” Margot gazed out her window into the darkness. “I’ve just discovered I like to teach. If that possibility was off the table, I’m not sure what I’d do if I did come back.”

  “Work the ranch,” he said almost immediately.

  “My dad could use the help,” she admitted, “and I’d be happy to do what I could to make life easier on him. But growing up, we were always tangling over one thing or another. I bet we’d drive each other crazy.”

  She found the thought that there just might not be a place for her on her father’s ranch disturbing.

  “Maybe you’ll find someone and settle down,” Brad suggested in a casual tone.

  Margot gave a snort. “I’ve perused the inventory in this area. While it’s possible there might be a diamond in the rough out there that I’ve missed, it’s not likely.”

  “Do you have a boyfriend on the circuit?”

  “What is this?” She rolled her eyes. “Twenty questions?”

  He smiled easily. “Just curious.”

  “Next you’ll be asking me the last time I slept with a guy.”

  A quiet hum filled the air.

  “I’m guessing it’s been a while,” he said after a long moment.

  “What gives you that idea?” She didn’t even try to keep the indignation from her voice. “I’m an attractive—”

  “It’s been a while for me, too.”

  “No way.”

  He lifted a shoulder in a slight shrug and steered the truck into the long drive leading to the house. “You know how it is, Margot. People like to talk. They believe what they want. I like women. That sure as hell is true. But I don’t sleep with everyone I date.”

  Her skepticism must have shown on her face because he laughed. “Scout’s honor.”

  “You’re too...hot,” she said finally, unable to come up with a better word, “to go without sex for long. Testosterone oozes from your pores.”

  He looked startled then pleased.

  “I could say the same for you,” he said. “Except for the testosterone part.”

  “It’s hard to get involved with guys you see every day.” Margot considered. “The circuit is its own little microcosm. It’s one thing if you’re together and happy. It’s quite another to be there bumping elbows when things go south.”

  “It’s not any better here,” Brad admitted with a rueful smile.

  “You’re right.” She rested her head back against the seat and expelled a heavy sigh. “We’re both screwed.”

  “People are going to continue to talk about you living here with me.”

  “I’ve got an idea. You could move out.”

  “Good try.” The truck came to a stop in front of the house.

  Margot frowned. “Why don’t you park in the garage?”

  “Have you seen all the junk in there?” he asked then stopped. “Not to disparage your father’s stuff...”

  “It probably is junk. Mom controlled his pack-rat tendencies when she was alive but I’m sure he’s been accumulating all sorts of useless stuff ever since.” She slanted a questioning glance in his direction. “I’m surprised you haven’t cleaned it out by now.”

  “I wasn’t sure what he’d want to keep or toss.”

  “That’s sweet.”

  He killed the engine, but made no move to get out. “I’m a sweet guy.”

  Inside the house, Vivian barked wildly.

  When Margot’s hand moved to the door handle, Brad’s hand closed over her arm. “What’s your hurry?”

  She tilted her head questioningly.

  “When you went on a date in high school and the guy took you home, did you ever just sit in the car and make out before going inside?”

  “With my dad?” Margot laughed. “If I tried anything like that, he’d be out with his shotgun.”

  “I had several brushes with protective dads back in the day.” Brad leaned close, brushed a kiss as light as a feather across her cheek. “But the only one in the house right now is Viper. Unless we open the front door I should be safe.”

  He lifted one of her curls and tucked it behind her ear. “Of course, the way I’m feeling right now, I’d risk it.”

  Margot held herself very still. Her breath hitched. “What are you saying?”

  “I’m asking,” his voice low and smooth as cream, “if I may kiss you.”

  She tapped her cheek with her index finger. “I think you already did.”

  Brad shook his head slowly from side to side, a slow and lazy smile tugging at his lips. “That was nothing.”

  The moment her gaze linked with his, something inside Margot seemed to lock into place and she could not look away. She moistened her lips with the tip of her tongue. “Perhaps you could illustrate the difference, cowboy...”

  He reached out and touched her cheek, one finger trailing slowly along her skin until it reached the line of her jaw. “Happy to be of service.”

  The words barely left his mouth when he shifted and gathered her close against him, kissing her. Gently, he stroked her back, cradled her head.

  Margot wasn’t sure what she expected but it wasn’t this slow sensual onslaught of her senses. His mouth teased, planting warm sweet kisses on her lips then moving to her cheeks and neck, sending shivers all the way to the tips of her toes.

  She loved the way he smelled, a woodsy mixture of cologne and soap that brought a tingle to her lips and heat percolating low in her belly.

  They kissed gently, sweetly, for the longest time. But a fire had begun to build and the kisses grew longer and more intense. Her pulse became a swift tripping beat. When his tongue teased the fullness of her lower lip she opened for him and when it penetrated her mouth it was as if he was inside her.

  A smoldering heat flared through Margot, a sensation she didn’t bother to fight. He tasted like the most delicious, decadent candy and she couldn’t help wanting more.

  She yearned to run her hands over his body, to feel the coiled strength of skin and muscle sliding under her fingers. She wanted him to touch her in the same way.

  She p
lanted a kiss at the base of his neck, his skin salty beneath her lips.

  Brad folded her more fully into his arms, anchoring her against his chest as his mouth once again covered hers in a deep, compelling kiss.

  Then he sat back, his hands dropping to his sides. “We should go in.”

  Margot felt like a child whose new toy had just been snatched from her grasp. For a second she wondered if going in meant they’d go in and go to bed...together.

  Something in his eyes told her that wasn’t the plan.

  Her stomach curled with nervousness.

  With a sigh he looped his arms around her pulling her closer against him. “I want to take this slow.”

  “Why?”

  “I don’t know.” For a second, he sounded as confused as she felt. Then he blew out a breath and the cocky look was back in his eyes.

  “You’re right,” she said with a studied nonchalance that deserved an award. “Too much kissing is gross.”

  His eyes widened with surprise then he laughed.

  Though her heart performed another series of flutters, she laughed, too, and opened the door.

  * * *

  Had he friggin’ lost his mind?

  In his bedroom—alone, because he was a certifiable idiot—Brad pulled off his coat and flung it on a nearby chair. What had he been thinking? Calling it quits just when the action was heating up?

  He had no doubt it would have taken very little effort to get Margot into bed. They were both on fire...until he’d thrown a bucket of water on the moment.

  Though he suspected not many people saw that side of her, Margot was clearly a sensitive woman. And it didn’t take a rocket scientist to know she was going through a rough patch. She faced not only the abrupt end to her rodeo career—at least for now—but the loss of her mother and now her father’s craziness.

  The last thing Brad wanted was to do anything that would add to her burden and take advantage of her situation. He’d chosen to play the role of gentleman, instead of a randy cowboy out for what he could get.

  But darn it, being a randy cowboy was so much fun.

 

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