Cowboy 12 Pack
Page 127
She shot him a crooked grin. “Well, Cowboy?”
“Well, what?”
She flopped back on the bed. “Aren’t you going to strip for me?”
He tossed his hat on the other bed. Her eyes widened and then she barked a laugh when he knelt before her and worked off her shoes, dropping them on the floor.
“Not me, silly. You.”
“Hmm.” He found a blanket and covered her. It was a damn shame to cover all that beauty, but it really was for the best.
Her brow knitted. Gently, he kissed it. “What are you doing?” Yep. Her words were decidedly slurred.
“Putting you to bed.”
“To bed?” Her eyes crossed as she gaped at him, so she closed one and gaped at him through that. As adorable as it was, it made him want to howl. Because she was definitely drunk.
“Yes, ma’am. Putting you to bed.” Fuck.
“W-why?”
He sat down beside her and took her face in his hands. He couldn’t resist another quick kiss, just one for the road. One to remember her by. “Because I have one rule with drunk women, darling.”
“One rule?” Her lashes fluttered, then closed. “Whatisit?”
“Just say no.”
She opened her eyes again, but it was a blurry effort. “Just say no?”
“Yeah.” He blew out a sigh. “I don’t take advantage of women who don’t have full control of their senses.”
“I have full control.” To illustrate this point, she released an arm from the blanket and flopped it around in an attempt to cup his cheek. He helped her, setting her hand there and covering it with his own.
“Maybe we’ll meet again. When you’re sober.”
Her lips worked and she murmured, “I’m here all weekend.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.” But he was speaking to himself. She’d drifted off into a tequila-induced slumber. He knew this because her snore rocked the room. He allowed himself one more glance and then a brief buss to her forehead and, perhaps, a moment of regret. “Sleep well, Crystal,” he whispered as he slipped from the room.
He couldn’t help thinking he was walking away from someone amazing, someone he needed to know. Physically, she was everything he’d ever wanted in a woman—with the exception of the penchant for hard liquor—but she was, without a doubt, a city girl.
And experience had taught him, tangling with city girls was a straight road to disaster and heartbreak. He’d vowed to avoid them forever.
It was a good decision.
But damn. What a shame.
Chapter Three
‡
FORD MADE HIS way downstairs in a pretty sour mood. A glimpse into the parlor, where there was some kind of striptease going on to the thrumming beat of house music and the squeals of women, didn’t help. So when he locked gazes with Cody, he couldn’t help but glower.
Cody’s eyes widened. He paled. With a glance over his shoulder, he slipped from the room into the hallway. His throat worked. “Hey, Ford.”
“You texted me?” And hell. He’d hated leaving the ranch so late at night, but Cody’s text had intimated it was an emergency, and Ford hadn’t received it until he got home after a long day.
In the darkened room, the stripper removed some necessary article of clothing and the women screamed. Ford winced. “Is there somewhere quiet we can talk?”
“Yeah. Sure.” With gratifying alacrity, Cody led him to his office down the hall and closed the door. It shut out the sounds of mayhem, but only just. The thrum of the bass pulsed through the walls.
He pinned his friend with a dark look. “Well? What was so important you had to see me right away?” Cody’s expression made something curl in his gut. He’d known Cody his whole life. Whatever this was, it wasn’t good.
“Porsche’s here.”
Oh, shit. His stomach lurched. His pulse slammed in his chest. His breath wheezed. “What?” He tightened his muscles, surely not to keep himself from sprinting—sprinting—to the other room and dragging his sister out of the bacchanal. “And you didn’t see fit to tell me?”
“Swear to God, Ford. I didn’t know she was coming this weekend.”
“You didn’t know?”
“The reservation was booked under another name. I was as surprised as you when she showed up.” He raked his fingers through his hair.
Ford glowered at his friend. “I can’t believe she’s here. My baby sister at a strip club—”
“Technically, it’s not a strip club—”
“Technically, judging from what I just saw, it is. But that’s beside the fucking point.”
“Okay.” Cody crossed his arms over his chest. “What is your point? That Porsche’s here? Having a good time?”
“With strippers?” He jabbed a thumb in the direction of the pulsing music. “That’s my sister in there. Ogling naked men.”
“Half-naked. The law states that—”
“I don’t give a good goddamn what the law states. She’s my baby sister.”
Cody blew out a sigh. “She’s twenty-one, Ford. She’s a legal adult.”
Fuck it. It was true.
And how much did it hurt that she’d chosen to spend the most significant birthday of her life…here? And not with him. Blowing out twenty-one candles and eating too much fudge ripple ice cream, as they’d done for every one of her other birthdays. At home. With him. That was, probably, the root of his outrage. More so than the fact that she was here.
Porsche was his family, all he had left. He’d practically raised her. They’d always been close, but now…now he felt like he was losing her. And it killed him to lose her. It hurt even more than when Betsy had left.
Cody’s expression firmed. A muscle bunched in his cheek. “I told you as soon as I knew.”
“Yeah. I know.” It wasn’t Cody’s fault. But…fuck.
“What do you want from me, Ford? Do you want me to go in there and drag her out of the party?”
Ford scrubbed his face and sighed. She’d hate him if he did that. And the bald, uncomfortable fact was, Porsche was an adult. She could make her own decisions. He had no right to yank her back home the way he’d done when she was sixteen and sneaked out of the house to smoke cigarettes with that fuckwad Timmy Bryant.
Even though she was twenty-one now—and a shiver ran down his spine at that—even though she’d been living on her own in Dallas for a year, she was his baby sister. His pride and joy, his heart and soul. Letting go of her was proving to be a challenge.
He knew he had a tendency to be overbearing and demanding, but it only stemmed from the fear that she might get hurt.
“No. Don’t yank her out of the party. But could you keep an eye on her?” he asked. “Make sure she’s…safe?”
Cody frowned. “None of my guys are going to hurt her.”
“You know what I mean. Things can get pretty loco here. And I hate the thought of Porsche getting caught up in the crazy.”
“It ain’t that bad. I promise. Just a bunch of Dallas housewives and bachelorettes letting off steam.”
“Really? I just put one of your drunk customers to bed upstairs. She came on to me in the parking lot.”
“Really? Who was it?”
Ford shrugged. “A woman named Crystal.”
“Was she hot?”
“What does that matter?”
“It always matters.”
“Yes. She was hot. Also drunk. Off her ass.”
“They do drink.”
“My point exactly. For all that she thinks she’s a woman of the world, Porsche really is an innocent. All I’m asking is that you keep an eye on her. Swear to God, if anything happens to her here I’ll skin you alive.”
Cody bristled. “This isn’t my fault.”
“I know.” A growl.
“But, Ford—?”
“What?”
“You’re gonna have to let her go sometime.”
He frowned at his friend and for some reason his fingers curled into a fist.<
br />
“I mean, man, come on. You need a life.”
“I have a life.”
“Right. And it all revolves around Porsche.”
“She’s my sister.”
“You know what I mean. You gotta get back on the horse.”
His gut clenched. “I ride a horse every day.”
“Not that horse. You know what I’m talking about. Meet a nice girl. Get laid. How long has it been since Betsy left?”
His response was a snarl.
“There are tons of hot-and-horny chicks around here.”
“First of all, one of those chicks is my sister, so eww. Second of all, the last thing I need in my life is another city girl. I own a ranch. I will always live there. And city girls just can’t cut the…isolation. No bars. No Chinese restaurants. No strip clubs—”
“Snake Gully has a Chinese restaurant.”
Ford glowered. “Have you eaten there? It sucks. Point being, the women who come to your little parties are not for me.”
“Point being, Ford, you need to dip your toe back into the pond.”
“Not if the pond is crawling with piranhas.”
“They’re hardly piranhas.”
“Aren’t they?” He couldn’t help but recall a man-eating vixen slithering up to him and wrapping herself around him. She hadn’t even known his name, for Christ’s sake, and she’d been ready to take him back to her room. Who knew how many other men she’d offered the same? Damn. The thought depressed him. Because in another universe he would have loved taking her up on the offer. He set his teeth. He really didn’t want to talk about this. He didn’t even want to remember it. “Please? Keep an eye on her? I just don’t want her to get hurt.”
“Sure thing, Ford. Although…” He disliked the wicked glint in Cody’s eye. “If it would make you feel better, you could always stay here for the weekend.”
He snorted a laugh through his nose. “I’m sure she’d really appreciate that.”
Cody chuckled. “She would definitely be on her best behavior if she knew you were hanging around.”
“It would probably also ruin all her fun.” Why the idea made his mood lift was a mystery. Or not. He’d been ruining Porsche’s fun since she was ten.
Cody grinned evilly. He had a baby sister too. “I could sure use some help with the fencing in the south forty.”
“You’re going to make me work?”
“Just a suggestion. You could also help with the party.”
That sounded better. Then he could keep an eye on Porsche. And truth be told, the thought of staying for the weekend appealed—to help Cody out because it was the neighborly thing to do and surely for no other reason. But how fun would it be to appear at breakfast in the morning—just to see the expression on Porsche’s face?
“You can sleep in the bunkhouse.”
“With your stripper boys? No thanks.”
“The only other spot is the caretaker’s house down the road. Or the barn.”
Ford frowned. The barn was much closer. Much easier to keep an eye on the goings-on. Not that he was a control freak. He wasn’t. Not really. “You’re on.”
He didn’t even think of Crystal, lying up there in her bed, working off the tequila. Not hardly at all.
And then an irritating realization dawned on him. He’d left his hat in her room. He’d need to find her tomorrow and get it back.
Just that. The hat.
Nothing more.
He didn’t know why that sizzle of excitement snaked through him at the thought.
CRYSTAL GROANED AND draped her arm over her eyes as the morning light lanced through her corneas. Damn. She needed to remember to keep away from tequila. She wasn’t much of a drinker, and this was probably why. Morning afters sucked.
She didn’t even remember coming to bed.
She did, however, remember the dream she’d had featuring a tall, swarthy cowboy, her every fantasy come true. And a kiss. One that melted her bones and made her belly ache. Funny thing was, she could almost still smell him. She tried to recapture the trails of the dream, but they danced away. The image of his face, however, lingered. Haunting her.
With a sigh, she sat up and winced as pain screamed through her head.
A snore rumbled through the room and she cracked open one eye and peeked over at Jenn’s bed. Her friend was dead to the world, sprawled over the duvet, fully clothed. Crystal chuckled until she realized she was fully clothed as well, except for her shoes. Damn. Had she even brushed her teeth? She huffed a breath into her palm and grimaced.
She definitely hadn’t.
Her gaze stalled on a hat on the end of Jenn’s bed. Something flickered through her brain, some memory or dream or fantasy. She wasn’t sure which. She picked up the hat, stared at it. It was very much like the one he’d worn in her dream.
Something prickled at her nape.
Without conscious thought, she lifted the hat to her nose and sniffed.
A curious familiarity flooded her, along with a wash of excitement. She pushed it away and dropped the hat back on Jenn’s bed. No doubt her friend had stolen it from one of the strippers last night and kept it as a memento. She was a klepto like that. She had mementos from lots of guys.
With a sigh, Crystal grabbed a change of clothes and her toothbrush and headed for the bathroom down the hall. With a splash of water to her face and a good scouring of the gunk on her teeth, she felt far more human. She shuffled like a zombie as she made her way downstairs, but the smell of coffee perked her right up.
Their host, Cody, smiled at her as she entered the dining room. He was very handsome and surprisingly clean-cut—for a guy who owned a strip ranch. He even looked like a real cowboy. Porsche said he was a nice guy, but Crystal had decided to withhold judgment. At least until she knew him better.
“Good morning,” he said. “You’re up early.”
Crystal raked her hair back. “Couldn’t sleep. You, ah, don’t happen to have any aspirin, do you?”
He nodded to the bottle on the buffet. When her brow wrinkled, he chuckled. “Frequent request. And may I suggest some tomato juice?”
“Tomato juice?”
“The salt seems to help. Drink some water too.”
“Thanks.” She poured herself a glass of each and a coffee and then, because she was hungry, scooped some eggs onto a plate. She sat beside him at the table, because it was the polite thing to do. They were the only two in the dining room. As she sat, he watched her with an assessing eye. It wasn’t completely unpleasant to be scoped out by a handsome cowboy, especially considering the interest in his expression. Even if he was young enough to be her…baby brother. She cleared her throat. “Pretty wild last night, huh?”
He shrugged. “Pretty par for the course. Most weekends are like this.”
“Huh. Do you do this every weekend?”
“Whenever we have customers.”
“I see. Do you…like it?”
His brow rumpled. “Like it?” He shrugged. “It’s good money.”
She nodded and occupied herself with eating the eggs. They were fluffy and perfectly seasoned. “So how does all this work? This stud-ranch thing? Parties all night and recuperating all day?”
“We have things during the day. Like trail rides and picnics. Whatever you want to do.” With her booming head, trail rides were not on the agenda. “Most of the activities start after noon though.”
“Thank God for small favors.”
He tipped his head to the side. “I don’t remember seeing you at the party last night.”
“You don’t?”
“No.”
“I was there.”
His gaze glimmered. “I’m pretty sure you weren’t. I would have remembered.”
Ooh. She liked the way he said that. “Would you have?”
He leaned closer. “Definitely.”
She took a sip of her coffee and nearly had an orgasm. “Mmm. This coffee is amazing.”
“Thanks. But you can’t wi
ggle off the hook that easily. I know you weren’t there. I was scoping out the crowd.”
“Do you do that much? Scope out the crowd?”
“You bet,” he said with a wide grin.
“I think I’m starting to understand why you do this.”
“Do what?”
“Throw parties for chicks. Every weekend. You’re a horndog.”
“I am not a horndog.”
“I think you are.”
“Hey, you can’t blame a guy for looking.”
“And if one of those drunk, horny women should happen to come on to you?”
He held up his hands in a so–sue-me manner. “But seriously. I really do it for the money. When my dad died, the ranch was in deep trouble. My brother had this idea and we tried it, and it worked. We’re a working ranch.” This he said with a hint of a defensive tone.
“I’m sure you are.”
“So where were you last night? Really?”
Crystal couldn’t hold back her laugh, though it was something of a snort. “Do you never give up?”
“Nope.”
She sighed. “I left early. The music was bugging me and the guys were not…” She finished the sentence with an apologetic glance.
“Not your type?”
“In a big way.”
“That’s good to know.”
“Is it?”
“Yeah. It is. It’s kind of hard to be interested in a woman who likes this.”
“Dude. It’s your business.”
“I know. But seriously. It’s kind of hard to be interested in a woman who likes it.”
She fiddled with the corner of her napkin and glanced at him from beneath her lashes. He was awfully cute…although his chin was clean-shaven, which was a drawback. “Are you saying you’re…interested in me?”
“Most definitely.”
“Nice to know.” She shot him a wicked look. “Too bad I’m off the market.”
He clutched his chest and wailed, “Noooooo,” but she was pretty sure he was teasing and she laughed. “Don’t tell me you’re married.”
“Nope.”
“In a relationship?”
“Nope.”
“Dating?”
“Nope.”
He frowned. “Lesbian?”
“No.”
“Then what?”
“Just off the market.”