Shadow Maverick Ranch Box Set

by Parker Kincade

  He opened the door to his room.

  Reese sat on the end of the bed, shoulders slouched, her gaze on her lap. Her dejected posture broke his heart. He’d do everything in his power to bring a smile back to that pretty face. And keep it there.

  He knelt at her feet. “I owe you an apology.”

  Surprise widened her eyes. “What on earth do you have to apologize for?”

  Now that he’d showered, he couldn’t keep from touching her. He cupped her hands in his.

  “I trust you, Reese. I do. When that guy said he was your fiancé, I knew in my heart it was bullshit. I was already upset about canceling dinner, we had an emergency and…” God, he was messing this whole thing up.

  He took a deep breath and started again.

  “Sometimes it takes a minute for my head to catch up with my heart, Reesey. I reacted like an ass—again—and there’s no excuse. I can’t promise it won’t happen again.” He raised her chin until she looked him in the eyes. “I swear to you, my heart will get the final say. At the same time, I need you to have faith that I won’t run out on you at the first sign of trouble.”

  He placed her hand above his heart. He held her there so she’d know it beat only for her.

  “I love you, Reese. With everything I am—good, bad, covered in sweat and cow shit, whatever—I love you. I’m not going anywhere, sweetheart. Never again. Can you trust in that, in me?”

  Tears streamed from her beautiful eyes. “I can. I will. I’m sorry, Pax. I was getting ready for our date. When I walked into the living room, he was just … there.”

  Anger stiffened his spine. “He broke into your apartment?” He’d teach that motherfucker a lesson about boundaries. While he was at it, he’d toss in a class in stay-the-fuck-away-from-my-woman-1-0-1 for free.

  Reese’s cheeks, wet from tears, flushed. “I’ve been trying to get my key from him for six months. He’s been a pain in my ass, but he’s never acted in a way that made me think to change the locks. When I saw he had my cell phone … when he said he talked to you, asked who you were, I went a little nuts. Cursed like a sailor. Demanded my key back.” Her face fell into her hands. “God, Pax. He insulted you—and I hit him.” Her head snapped up, eyes blazing through her tears. “I’ve never hit anyone in my life!”

  They’d talk later about her putting herself at risk. She’d fucking fought for him. His chest swelled with pride. He smoothed his thumb over her cheek, wiping the moisture away. “My gorgeous little firecracker. No more tears, sweets. Everything is okay now. We’re okay.”

  Her body trembled. He came out of his crouch and sat down beside her. He pulled her onto his lap.

  Her arms came around his neck. Her leg snaked over until she straddled him. “I love you, Paxton. God, I’ve never loved anyone else. Just you.”

  He buried his face against her neck, drawing in her scent until it became a part of him. She’d always been a part of him. His beautiful Reese.

  She loves me.

  His hand slid under her shirt. So soft, so different from his rough skin. Need fired his blood, his exhaustion all but forgotten with Reese in his arms.

  He placed her on her feet. He lifted her shirt as she went for the waistband of her jeans. He released the front clasp of her bra and, God almighty, her nipples darkened, puckered before his very eyes.

  He took one in his mouth. Her fingers tangled in his hair, holding him in place as he suckled her. He alternated between biting, sucking, licking—all actions guaranteed to drive her crazy. When her hips arched against his, he moved to the other breast, gave it the same attention.

  “Better get those jeans off, darlin’,” he mumbled against her delicious flesh.

  She released his head and stumbled back in her rush to do as he asked.

  He loved that about her. That she trusted him with her body, gave him control. Whether she knew it or not, she controlled him. Hell, she owned him—his body, his cock, his heart. Every bit of him belonged to her.

  He shucked his shorts and he pulled her now naked body close.

  His hands followed the length of her spine, over the delicate curve of her ass. He cupped her butt cheeks and lifted her, placed her on the bed.

  She wrapped her arms around him as he covered her. She made room for him between her thighs and he didn’t hesitate. He captured her mouth, his tongue pushing past her lips as he penetrated her, slow and easy.

  Moist heat surrounded him. So tight, she stole his breath. A perfect fit.

  He made love to her. Showed her with his body what words could never tell.

  The last ten years melted away. Reese tightened around him, came shouting his name. As he followed her into the bliss, Pax knew there’d be no more living in the past. No more pain. No more regrets.

  Only this. Only Reese.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Two weeks later …

  Reese walked into the shop and stopped dead in her tracks.

  Holy Mother of God.

  “What do you think, sweets?”

  Pax caught her eye in the three-paneled mirror. He stood with his arms spread wide. The stark, white button-down he wore strained against his massive chest. Stephen Casey, owner of the shop and the man currently kneeling behind him, adjusted the hem of Pax’s black dress pants with a quick tug.

  Her cowboy was a wet-dream-walking in jeans and ratty T-shirt. The suit gave him a darker, more dangerous look that had her imagination skipping down fantasy lane.

  As though he followed her thoughts, his cheeks reddened. Eyes narrowed, he made a wicked sound. “Feeling’s mutual, I assure you. It’s a damn shame winter is coming. I like seeing your legs in those shorts.” His gaze darted to the tailor at his feet. “Eyes on task, Steve.” The humor in his voice held an edge as Steve turned to check out her legs for himself.

  Reese went to Pax, her heart fluttering as it did whenever he looked at her. She’d never known she could be so content, so happy.

  “Very handsome.” And all hers.

  Reese ran her hands over his shoulders, pretending to inspect the suit he’d wear for his brother’s wedding, when really, she just couldn’t keep her hands off him.

  Pax would look magnificent, standing proud as Gavin pledged his life to Lauren. The vision was enough to make her downright weepy.

  The warmth of his hand enclosed her neck. “What is it, sweets? Everything okay? Hey, give us a minute, will you, Steve?”

  Steve muttered under his breath and wandered off.

  Reese toyed with the buttons of Pax’s shirt, staring at each one as she imagined sliding them free. They spent every night together, and she still couldn’t get enough of him.

  “Everything is fine. Lauren wants my assistant to handle the details on the actual day of the wedding. Insisted on it, in fact.”

  His thumb caressed her jaw. Subtle pressure had her raising her chin to look at him.

  Concern marred his brow. “Of course she did. You shouldn’t have to work that day, when the rest of the family is celebrating. Is there a problem?”

  And then he said things like that and she fell in love with him even more.

  She gave him her most seductive smile. “No, no problem at all. But it looks like I’m going to need a date.”

  The look he gave her melted her bones. “A date, huh?”

  She licked her lips and his eyes tracked the movement. “Yeah. I’ve got several months yet to find someone … Paxton!” Reese laughed as he swatted her ass, her heart full of love for this man.

  He got in her face, nose-to-nose. “I might be playing best man for this shindig, but don’t think I’ll let anyone else get their hands on you.”

  Heat filled her cheeks. The only hands she wanted on her were his. “I guess that means you’ll be my date?”

  “Always, sweets.” He leaned in and kissed her stupid. “Forever.”

  Cowboy Redeemed:

  A Shadow Maverick Ranch Novella

  by

  Parker Kincade

  Copyright �
� 2014 by Parker Kincade

  ISBN: 978-0-9894407-5-2

  No part of this e-book may be reproduced or shared by any electronic or mechanical means, including but not limited to printing, file sharing, and e-mail, without prior written permission from Parker Kincade. If you enjoyed this book, please encourage your friends to download their own copy.

  Editor

  Lacey Thacker

  Cover Artist

  Hot Damn Designs

  Formatted by

  JTLW Design

  This is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents, places, brands, and dialogues in this book are a product of the author’s imagination and are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, or persons, living or dead, is completely coincidental. This book contains content that is not suitable for readers who are 17 and under.

  Dedication

  For Mandy Harbin, for ALL the reasons.

  And for Clayton.

  Who stole my heart when I wasn’t looking.

  Chapter One

  “I’m sorry, Ms. Russell. You are out of options.”

  Ainsley slid to the back of the worn leather guest chair and crossed her jean-clad legs.

  He didn’t sound sorry. Relieved, maybe. Annoyed. Definitely not sorry.

  She flexed her fingers, willing them to relax. No need to go all white-knuckled on the armrest and give away her vast irritation with the man. Her expression was sure to do the job without resulting in a cramp.

  She stared hard at Mr. Wayne Sutherland, Attorney-at-Law. With his silver hair, dark eyes, and well-groomed beard, he could pass for Santa Clause. If Santa had an evil twin in a navy-blue suit so shiny it could’ve been stitched together with diamond dust.

  “What does that mean, exactly?” she asked.

  “That means it’s time to take a serious look at the offers you’ve been given. A girl like you has no business trying to run a ranch in the first place.”

  Every fucking time. “Good thing it’s not your decision to make then isn’t it? I didn’t choose this, Mr. Sutherland. That doesn’t mean I’m going to throw away something that belongs to me just because times are tough.”

  The little reminder of who held the deed, in theory anyway, hit its mark.

  “You’ve got several legitimate offers here. Gavin Mathis, for one, has been more than generous in—”

  “Not interested.”

  She’d met with Gavin several times. He was charming, far too good-looking for his own good, and had an irritating habit of not taking no for an answer. Not in the personal sense—he’d been strictly business with her. Gavin had a pretty fiancée Ainsley had met a time or two. His adoration for the woman was obvious.

  What didn’t seem to be obvious was Ainsley’s desire for a solution that didn’t require her to sell.

  “Ms. Russell, aside from the bank loan coming through—”

  “Ah. So I’m not entirely out of options then,” she remarked sweetly.

  His face crinkled into a scowl. “May I be frank?”

  Ainsley wondered for the umpteenth time what she’d done to garner this man’s hostility. She pinched the bridge of her nose and closed her eyes for just a moment, trying to ward off the headache that always accompanied these little visits. “By all means.”

  Mr. Sutherland cleared his throat, as though the mere sound of her voice was distasteful. He slapped open a file and stabbed a chubby finger on the contents he hadn’t seen fit to share. “You’ve got two months, three tops, before you’re out of money. As I mentioned before, selling off a substantial portion of the herd wasn’t the wisest choice.”

  No, she supposed it wasn’t. “I did what needed to be done to pay off my uncle’s debt. Debt, I might remind you, I didn’t create, but inherited.”

  “Selling the ranch would have been the best course of action. You could’ve paid off the debt and had a little traveling money in your pocket. Now, you’ll be lucky to get what you need out of the place.”

  “If you have a point, please make it. While I live for our monthly Saturday afternoon visits, I have work to do.”

  His cheeks turned bright red. Ainsley feared the man was about to blow an artery.

  “You’re a single, twenty-four year old woman.” His voice shook in obvious anger. “Your residence history has been sporadic, making your work history the same. Although you’ve always managed to stay employed, you’ve never spent more than a year in the same place. You’re a drifter, Ms. Russell. A gypsy. Banks don’t loan the kind of money you’ll require to gypsies.”

  She’d stayed in her last apartment, last job, for over two years. She’d be there now if her uncle hadn’t died, but arguing with Mr. Sutherland was pointless.

  Self-centered, judgmental bastard with his college degree and turned up nose. She’d made the most of the cards she’d been dealt. Fuck this asshole if he thought calling her a gypsy would degrade her. She had nothing to be ashamed of.

  And the bank hadn’t said no yet. There was still a chance she could make it work. In the meantime, there was one thing she could do to save on expenses. Something she should have done months ago.

  She stood. “Thank you for another enlightening meeting. I’m sure my uncle would appreciate everything you’ve done to help get things in order, Mr. Sutherland, but I’ll take it from here. Your services are no longer required.”

  His cheeks puffed. “You’ll need me to work the sale, the finances.”

  “I don’t need you for anything, Mr. Sutherland.” She didn’t need anyone. The trial-by-fire story of her life. “We are done here. Enjoy the rest of your weekend.”

  She quietly closed the door behind her and made her way to her car. She’d learned long ago not to waste time questioning what life threw at her. Six months ago she’d been four states away, renting a decent apartment and working as a bartender at a local hot spot. She’d made a living. But here … here she had an opportunity to make a life for herself. Discover what it meant to have roots.

  Ainsley unlocked the door of her well-used sedan and slid into the seat. She dropped her forehead to the steering wheel and took a steadying breath.

  What was the saying? Something about the best things in life don’t come easily? Ainsley had some seriously awesome stuff coming her way, if the mantra was true. She wouldn’t know easy if it gut punched her.

  She rolled her shoulders, tense and aching from her meeting. Only two things she could think of would relieve the kind of stress riding her. A stiff drink and a willing partner for an hour, two if she was lucky.

  With those things in mind, Ainsley decided to do something she hadn’t done since moving to this town. She backed out of her parking spot and headed down Main Street. Instead of turning left at the stoplight to head home, she turned right.

  And headed straight for the bar.

  Chapter Two

  Clayton Mathis knew when he was being watched.

  Call it a sixth sense, a prickling at the back of his neck, or just call it being damned observant.

  Sidelong glances, nonchalant scans of the crowd that started and ended on him, casual peeks from lowered lids. Oh yeah, she’d been eyeing him all night.

  Clay didn’t know her. Not her name, if she lived around here, or what she did for a living.

  He took stock of what he did know: Never seen her before. No ring on the important finger. Not even a shadow of a ring once worn. She drank her whiskey straight up. Followed each with a light beer, yet she showed no signs of intoxication. The woman could handle her liquor.

  With her back to him, she prepared to take her shot. Clay tilted his head.

  Christ. She wore a pair of jeans like nobody’s business, and she played a mean game of pool.

  He added those to his mental tally.

  “Yo, dude.”

  A smattering of peanut hulls hit him in the chest at the same time a boot connected with his shin. Clay forced his gaze from the intriguing woman and leveled a stare at his best friends, first one, then the other.

>   “What?” Clay brushed the shells from where they’d accumulated in his lap. He’d known Colton Lancaster and Dakota Blackstone since they were kids. He prayed for once they’d mind their own business.

  No such luck.

  “What the hell are you looking at?” Colt asked and turned his head to look toward the pool tables. “Or should I say who?”

  Dakota shifted in his seat, neck stretched to see around Colt’s shoulders. “Yeah, man. What gives?”

  Clay’s gaze drifted back to her. She widened her stance and leaned over to take her shot, giving him a spectacular view of her heart-shaped ass. His mental list continued.

  Clay wasn’t surprised the guys hadn’t noticed her. With a bar full of women dressed to fuck, the little pool shark didn’t really stand out.

  She stood an average height. He’d guess around five-six, five-seven at the most. Blonde hair, pulled up in a messy ponytail that teased between her shoulder blades whenever she moved. Strands fell around her face, as though they refused to be bound even when she’d repeatedly tucked them behind her ear. No heavily applied makeup to detract from her natural beauty. Jeans and flip-flops. Her tight pink T-shirt showed off small, pert breasts and a trim waist. She looked more like the unassuming girl-next-door than someone looking for hard-core mattress action on a Saturday night.

  From the looks of it, her kind of action included relieving every pool-playing cowboy in the joint of his cash.

  The girl was good, he’d give her that. She’d taken the last three cowboys who’d challenged her and was toying with her fourth. Dumbasses hadn’t even known what hit ’em. They just lined up, scrambling over each other for the chance to be the first to beat her.

  “Nothin’ gives,” Clay mumbled and relaxed back in his chair. He gave his boys his full attention. “Just watching a game of pool.”

  “Since when are you interested in pool?” Colt’s eyes slanted in suspicion.

  Her movements were graceful and elegant. She checked the angles, made a show of deciding which ball to target. She ran her fingertips up and down the cue as she moved, easily slipping it into position as she picked her shot. Her head lifted and she caught him staring. The corner of her mouth twitched up, as if she knew a dark, sensual secret meant only for him.