by Vi Summers
Louisiana downcast her gaze to where her fingers gripped the saddle. She took a moment to collect herself, then straightened her spine with a renewed sense of determination.
“Thank you. I know it sounds weird, but I needed to hear that.”
I threw my arms wide and rode without holding the reins. “I’m an open book, darlin’. Always do me the favor of askin’ before you go assuming.”
“Fine, here’s a question for you—do you regret what happened in the rain?”
My heart stuttered as the memory of her rain-soaked top, pebbled nipples and parted lips came back with full force. I forced a swallow, then a single word. “Nope.”
“Do you actually like me?”
My voice grew tight. “Yup.”
“Would you turn me away if it were to happen again?”
Christ, she was breaking my balls.
“Nooo,” I said warily this time, as if I was falling into some kind of trap.
“Does the fact that I have a son repulse you?”
There it was—the true reason behind all the questions, asked in a tone bordering on disgust.
“Okay,” I snapped. “Just hold on a fucking minute. Stop,” I hissed and leaned across to yank on Dottie’s reins to bring her to a halt.
With Red and Dottie standing abreast, bringing me and Louisiana in parallel, I twisted in the saddle and glared.
“Is that what this is all about?”
Louisiana jutted her jaw. “You didn’t answer my question, Brandon.”
“And I’m not goin’ to because it’s a stupid fucking question.” I barely held my unexpected temper in check. I was offended that she would even think that her having a son would repulse me.
“Obviously it’s not, because you’re yelling at me!”
“Damn right I’m yellin’ at you! Are you out of your goddamn mind? Why would I find it repulsive?”
Louisiana’s face colored with rage, and dread pulling in my gut, knowing our conversation was heading into dangerous territory.
“Because I’ve pushed another man’s baby out of my vagina. That changes things down there.” She gestured wildly to her lower half without unlatching her glare from mine.
“You really think I’m that shallow? Well, fuck me, Louisiana. Here I was, hoping to find myself a woman to love unconditionally and create a family with, but thanks for the insight,” I snapped.
The raw hurt on her face filled me with a torrent of instant regret. My passion ran deep, and sometimes when challenged, it flooded me with overwhelming fire.
I reined Red in a tight circle while struggling to get my frustrations under control. I had to fight hard to stop myself from sinking a boot into his flank and galloping recklessly down the trail.
Louisiana yelled. “You need someone who’s wholesome, untainted, and not insecure.”
The last three words brought me to an abrupt halt. I urged Red forward a couple of paces, then stopped abreast of Louisiana again.
We had reached the crux of the issue. Insecurity.
“Sweetheart, you ain’t tainted,” I implored. “Anyone who treats you or tells you otherwise ain’t worth your time of day.”
Tears shone, but she managed to hold them at bay. The dejection in her eyes had me swallowing hard multiple times in quick succession.
“You’re too good for me, Brandon.”
I dismounted before I could think, then reached up for her. Lou fell into my arms after unhooking her feet from the stirrups, and as soon as her feet hit the ground, I cupped her face in my palms.
“I decide who is and who isn’t good enough for me, darlin’, and from where I’m standing, you’ve raised the bar to a new high.”
A crinkle appeared on her forehead as her lips trembled.
“Can I kiss you, Lou?”
Her eyes flicked to mine again and filled with something other than sorrow. With a subtle nod, she stepped a fraction closer. Slowly lowering my mouth toward hers, I watched her reactions closely, then gave over to the pull between us when her eyelids fell closed.
Her heart-shaped lips parted, then latched onto my upper lip as soon as my mouth descended upon hers.
The kiss, while slow and tentative to begin with, ignited my blood on impact. Her soft lips worked in sync with mine and when I tilted her head to deepen our kiss, she spurred me on with the first swipe of her tongue.
The horses shifted around us as I became lost in Louisiana’s taste—so sweet thanks to her berry lipgloss. My hands traveled from the back of her neck down to her ass, then rose to her waist. I wanted to touch all of her all at once, but savor the experience. Like unwrapping the most anticipated gift under the Christmas tree, I was torn between ruthless impatience and prolonging the unwrapping for as long as sanely possible.
Louisiana’s soft hums of pleasure spoke directly to my dick, and there was no point in attempting to hide what she did to me. My knees weakened when she pressed her body against mine. I couldn’t hold back the groan of need that had me kissing her with a frantic desire.
So sweet, so warm, so goddamn delectable. An addiction that heightened as she molded herself to my chest and kissed me with urgency.
My hands followed each dip and hollow from her hips to her face. I could barely breathe, yet it felt like I would never need oxygen again.
The moment she shoved off my Stetson and roughly wove her fingers through my hair, I knew we had to stop before I took her on the side of the track. Shit, I wanted to. I truly fucking did.
“Christ almighty, darlin’,” I panted before meeting her open mouth again.
When her hand slid between us and rubbed my erection, I grunted and ground back, driven blind and wild by wanting her so damn bad.
Before completely throwing caution to the wind, I smoothed my hands to her shoulders, then with agonizing reluctance, put the barest amount of space between us.
“Where’d you learn to kiss like that?” I puffed as my heart pounded a mile a minute.
Louisiana was equally breathless as she smirked. “Jail.”
A wicked little glint entered her clear blue eyes and had me snarling. “Get your ass back on the horse, Louisiana, you little temptress.”
She threw her head back and laughed. The bliss-filled notes lifted on the breeze, circulated among the leaves on the nearby trees before dancing along my heartstrings.
I hoisted her up with a firm hand on her ass, then gave her thigh a little slap once she was happily settled on Dottie’s back.
Effortlessly boosting myself into Red’s saddle, I casually draped the reins across my thigh and grinned over at Lou. “Want to race back?”
She bit her reddened lips, then surprised the hell out of me. “Not race, but maybe we can go a little faster?”
My soul smiled as wide as my face. “That’a girl.”
Another step forward after a backpedal and a rather sexy half-pace to the side. I was closer to falling for her than I had ever been.
Chapter 17
Louisiana
We pulled to a stop in the massive yard on a neighboring ranch and I took a giant breath. Despite the pretty dress, freshly shaved legs, and practically breaking my back to braid my hair, I still felt as if I didn’t belong here at the local dance.
Brandon’s calm presence brought peace when it was just him and me, but I was about to enter a den where the lions would circle. I’d overheard the whispered gossip and poorly disguised sniggers while Rory and I were in town. As much as I didn’t give a shit what they thought they knew about me, I was terrified. While fidgeting with the hem of my dress to pull it lower, Brandon gently snagged my hand and laced our fingers.
“Relax, darlin’. Rory’s already here.” He gestured to the shiny black truck we parked next to. “And Wyatt will be soon.”
“Wow, that’s flash,” I murmured, admiring Rory’s ride.
Brandon scoffed. “It’s her pride’n joy. She’s rough as hell with everyone else’s vehicle, but when it comes to her own, she drives it like a ni
nety-year-old.”
I laughed. “Terribly?”
His laughter rose with mine. “No, Lou. Carefully.” He slapped the wheel of his older truck. “Love my old girl here and I won’t be tradin’ her anytime soon. Besides, no point in ownin’ a new truck when I use it around the ranch.”
“So, what you’re saying is that you’re just as precious about your belongings as Rory is,” I teased.
Brandon pursed his lips and glared at me. “I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that.”
His lip twitched as I tried my hardest to hold in my laughter, and his lop-sided smile grew when he leaned across to tweak my knee. It was the key to unlock my laughter, and I squealed when he did it a second time. The uneven rhythm of my heartbeat skipped and danced further in response to Brandon’s deep, rolling chuckle.
“I like that sound. Do it again for me, darlin’.”
I playfully screamed and laughed while batting his hands away. “Fuck off.” The last thing I wanted was to look like we’d just fucked in the hay before walking into the party.
After a couple more teasing snips of his fingers against my bare legs, he sat back in the driver’s seat and caught his breath. The flecks in his hazel eyes seemed brighter and more electric as they skipped over my face before dipping to my exposed thighs. My wriggling had pushed my dress higher, and my face heated as I tugged the hem back down to modest levels.
“Do I look okay?” I whispered. Brandon looking me over like a starved man made me self-conscious.
His eyes lifted to lock on mine. “Damn beautiful.”
The sincerity of his tone landed on my heart. Ever since our kiss last weekend, we’d been tip-toeing around the very obvious attraction burning between us. Brandon hadn’t so much as set his hands on me since, unless it was to show me how to hold something or boost me onto Dottie.
I craved his touch. It seared through my veins and lit every molecule of my body, leaving me breathless like never before.
“You gotta stop lookin’ at me like that, sweetheart,” Brandon drawled from next to me.
I blinked a couple of times. “Like what?”
He leaned close and ran the back of his forefinger along my jawline. “Like you want me to kiss the hell outta you again.”
Heat gathered between my legs. Tonight would test our resolve to the utmost limits. The simmering desires between us were close to the surface, and it wouldn’t take much to bump us across the forbidden line we had already danced along.
I wanted him, and he wanted me. If only it was that plain and simple. That much we both knew. But there was no way of telling who would be the first to crack.
One good thing about being in the parolee program was that drinking was prohibited. There would be no drunken demands of fucking me falling from my lips tonight.
I didn’t say anything in response to Brandon’s hoarsely breathed words. My eyes did, however, lock onto his lips and flare when his tongue darted across the lower one.
“And what if I did?” I challenged, wanting him to kiss me again.
Softly before the hunger in his movements took over, just like last time.
Brandon’s expression grew stormy. “Not where I can’t kiss you properly. Stay here,” he said and shoved out of his door, leaving me staring at the empty driver’s seat he couldn’t get out of fast enough.
Huffing a slight laugh, I spun when the passenger door jerked open. Brandon made a show of bowing and extending his hand. The frown pulling my carefully penciled brows immediately eased into a smile I felt resonating in my soul.
Whoever said chivalry was dead hadn’t been charmed by this sexy cowboy.
“Thank you,” I said, setting my hand in his.
I swung my legs onto the step of the truck before jumping onto the grass. Despite landing steadily, Brandon kept a hold of my hand.
His eyes skipped down my body. “You look real pretty in that dress, Lou.”
My own gaze skimmed along his arms and chest, admiring and desiring.
Clean jeans hugged his hips and tapered perfectly down his legs. The dark gray collared shirt was rolled to the elbows. Tonight, he’d also switched out his worn Stetson for freshly shampooed and styled hair.
“You scrub up pretty well yourself.” I bit my lip and looked up from under my lashes.
Brandon cleared his throat and graced me with a smitten smile. “C’mon, darlin’, let’s head inside.”
I wove my arm through the crook of his elbow when he offered it and tucked close as he led me toward the open barn doors. Music already flowed into the late afternoon sun, and nerves tightened my chest as we reached the threshold. Brandon gave me my arm a reassuring squeeze.
“They’re already staring,” I hissed.
“Because you’re the prettiest girl here.”
I snorted, then felt him chuckle.
I was different now—around Brandon. Jail had hardened me, but as soon as I arrived at the ranch, that side of me began to slip away. Slowly and surely, Brandon was stripping away those walls to reveal the old me. The me that simply wanted to be a momma again. To live a simple life where my son’s hand was in mine. To sprinkle kisses on his cute little nose whenever I wanted. I missed his smell, his voice, his happy singing that brought rays of sunshine to my darkest of moods.
“I got you, darlin’.” Brandon’s smooth voice and a soft squeeze of his hand brought me back to the present.
I blinked away the tears prickling the corners of my eyes while being steered in a specific direction. I spotted Rory as my eyes scanned the clusters of groups standing around with drinks in hand, laughing and talking joyously among themselves. She was talking with an older couple, and three sets of eyes locked onto me when we came to a stop before them.
Brandon introduced me before anyone got a word in. “Mom, Pop, this is Louisiana. Louisiana, these are my parents, Jack and Deirdre.”
Jack extended his hand in a firm handshake. “Nice to meet you, girly. I trust my son here has been treatin’ you well?”
“He has, thank you.” My attention turned to Deirdre as she opened her arms and stepped forward. “Rory has told us all about you. It’s nice to finally meet you in person, Louisiana.”
I stiffened. I couldn’t help myself. I was waiting for the backhanded comment; the disapproval. The judgment.
Much to my surprise, it didn’t come. I flicked my eyes to Rory. She just smiled and shrugged like it was no biggy. Surely, she or Brandon would have told them about why I was here.
Jack answered those unvoiced questions almost immediately. “Brandon runs a tight ship over there and needs to. He’s had some hardened men pass through those ranch gates, and hats off to him. The first woman, though…” Jack whistled and looked me dead in the eye. “Now that’s a new kettle of fish.”
“Enough shop talk, Pop,” Brandon interrupted. “We’re here for a night off, and that includes probing for details. Oh look, here come Allen and Irene. Louisiana, these are Wyatt’s parents,” Brandon explained when they arrived.
Irene seemed frosty, and it didn’t escape my attention that Rory made a quick getaway. While Allen’s expression was friendly enough, Irene made me bristle by the way she looked me over with blatant scorn.
And the first judgment award tonight goes to… Wyatt’s mom.
Thankfully, Brandon ushered me away for a drink before an interrogation could commence. I felt like I was on trial all over again and the jury had already decided I was guilty based on gossiped whispers.
“Your parents seem lovely,” I said quietly as we wove through the party-goers.
Brandon laughed. “Ignore my pop. He’s old school and doesn’t hesitate to voice his opinion. However, he doesn’t let preconceptions cloud his judgment.”
Just like Brandon.
Admiration rose in my chest to know that his father had taught him valuable life lessons through his own values.
“How about Wyatt’s mom, though?”
Brandon caught my grimace and groaned. “Now she’s go
t an opinion about everything and it’s usually not worth listenin’ to.”
“What’s up with her and Rory?”
His hand slid onto my lower back when we came to a stop at the drinks table. “She’s always had an issue with Rory. A few years back, she accused Rory of sleeping around then trying to seduce Wyatt.”
I burst out laughing. “I’m sure Wyatt can stand up for himself without his mom meddling.”
“He ranted about it for a solid month,” Brandon drawled through a wry grin. “Rory won’t give her the time of day now.”
I accepted a can of pop and took a sip. The bubbles fizzed over my tongue as I looked around the sea of strangers. Just as I settled into having Brandon’s touch graze over my lower back, I saw a woman heading our way with her sights firmly locked on Brandon. He stiffened when I assumed he saw her and then hissed a curse under his breath.
Oh yeah, we were heading for a showdown.
Chapter 18
Louisiana
“Hi, Brandon.” The cute red-head smiled before narrowing a chilly glare on me. “And you must be the woman from prison?”
I scoffed. As if that defined me. Brandon cut in before I chose a retort, and his voice held an edge of warning.
“Jolene, this is Louisiana. Louisiana, Jolene.”
I instantly recognized her name and looked at Brandon for confirmation, which he gave me with a quick head dip. So, this was the woman he hid from at the last dance? Interesting.
Jolene’s curious gaze ran over me. “You don’t look much like you’ve done time.”
I shrugged, both a little uncomfortable and irked from the way she spoke without thinking.
“Looks can be deceiving,” I deadpanned.
“They sure can,” she said with another pointed look over the new dress Brandon had bought me.