“We’re only going to my house,” Trudy assured her. “You might drive my brother mad with lust, but I think you’ll be safe. The cast will slow him down, if nothing else.”
Caroline didn’t hesitate, slipping off her glittering flip-flops and the black yoga pants she’d worn for the flight and bending over to cover her thong with the jean shorts. “I’m sure he’ll be fine. I can’t believe I’m finally going to meet him after all our near misses. He always seems to come to visit you when I’m out of town.”
Trudy grimaced, but Caroline wasn’t looking in her direction. “Yeah, I know. It’s weird.”
Not weird so much as perfectly timed. For all their sakes…but mostly for her own. She liked keeping her past and present separate, and she had been determined to keep her sex life private from her brother. She didn’t want him to know that she was thinking about teaching other people how to use rope for bondage scenes, or that she liked to be controlled and spanked. That she really got off on watching. She wasn’t ashamed of her kinky preferences, but it wasn’t something she wanted to share with him or anyone else in the outside world. It was hers. Her outlet. Talking about it outside of the club or outside of the online community she was a part of only tarnished it for her.
Caroline was very involved in it all, truly in the lifestyle, and very open about it, so it was inevitable that the subject would come up when she and Jefferson got together. And like any older brother, Jefferson would subtly—or not so subtly—give her hell for it. While she trusted Caroline’s discretion absolutely, Trudy didn’t want to put her in the position of having to lie for her, which meant keeping the two of them apart for all their sakes.
That was easier to do when Jefferson came to see her—then she could control the situation, avoid discomfort.
There would be no avoiding it now.
Trudy paused for a moment before following her lead, peeling off her damp jeans to replace them with a pair of longer cutoff shorts that she wore around the house for cleaning.
Why she hadn’t heard horse hooves she’d never know. Maybe it was all the guilt and nerves buzzing in her ears.
“Trudy? Gertrude Adams, is that you, girl?”
Her hands momentarily froze before she hiked the shorts up over her lace underwear with a sigh. She knew that voice.
“Mr. Giese?” She turned around and saw the old man clinging to his horse…and he wasn’t alone. “And Tommy. Look at you, all grown up.”
The Giese’s owned the neighboring land, and Tommy Giese had been fourteen when she left home. He’d followed Trudy around everywhere she went, no matter how she tried to shake him. She did the math. He had to be twenty-seven now. He’d finally grown into his arms and legs. He was more handsome than she’d expected…though the leer on his face was still juvenile and familiar.
He licked his lips and nodded his head. “I wasn’t expecting to see you, Trudy. Certainly not so much of you. Aren’t you some kind of rock star by now? Cute tattoo by the way. Is that a flying bunny on your hip? And those purple streaks in your hair…you do that on purpose too?”
The older man glared at his son for a moment before tipping his frayed baseball cap toward Caroline and Trudy. “Pardon his manners, ladies. He gets them from his mama’s side, I’m afraid. Those people are rude to the bone. It’s good to see you again, Trudy. After your daddy’s funeral everyone in town laid bets you wouldn’t come round again until Jefferson’s. Has your brother taken a turn for the worse?”
Tommy snorted. “He broke his leg being an idiot for the cameras, Dad. He’s not dying from the damp lung.” He eyed Caroline and studied her legs in a way that made Trudy uncomfortable. “Who’s your friend, Gertrude? I’d like to get an up close look at her tattoos.”
Caroline responded before Trudy could, walking toward the horses to reach up and politely shake the older man’s hand.
“It’s nice to meet you, Mister Giese.” She lowered her voice conspiratorially. “I have family that enjoys embarrassing me, too. A cousin who can’t resist pinching every behind that gets within touching distance and talking to any tabloid reporter in a ten-mile radius. Luckily, high doses of medication, a few stints in rehab and years of therapy have worked wonders. I highly recommend it.”
Mr. Giese laughed, loud and chainsaw rough. “No surprise you two gals are friends,” he chortled. “Hear that, Tommy? Don’t think I won’t call a head shrinker if you don’t get home before I do. Go on, now. Git.”
Tommy glared at Caroline and Trudy before smacking the reins against his poor horse and disappearing down the road at a gallop.
His father shook his head. “At this rate I’ll never be a grandfather,” he muttered, tipping his hat once more. “Maybe it’s for the best. Tell Jefferson I’m here if he’s shorthanded. Least I can do after the deal he’s givin’ me. Though from what I understand, Big John has everything under control.”
“Thank you, sir. I’ll let him know,” Trudy assured him, watching him ride away, her brow furrowing. The cameras? What deal? What the hell was going on?
“I bet that Tommy had a giant-sized creepy crush on you, didn’t he?” Caroline leaned against the rental car with an intrigued expression. “Speaking of giant… did he say Big John? Am I really going to meet someone named Big John? You’ve never mentioned him before. Sounds promising. My spidey senses are all a-tingle.”
Trudy winced. Sometimes she really hated Caroline’s superhuman ability to sniff out a story. John’s nickname on her lips sent Trudy’s mind racing.
Big John. Big Bad John. That was what everyone had called him when he first arrived, and the moniker had stuck. Like that old country song, he’d come from somewhere in Louisiana, an enigmatic man with secrets that he’d somehow managed to keep for years in this tiny, nosy town, and he was as big as a mountain. A sexy, lickable six-foot-six mountain. He also had a protective, possessive hero complex and the ability to invade every dirty fantasy Trudy ever had for over a decade.
And she’d never mentioned him to her best friend. The best friend who knew every dark and dirty secret Trudy had ever had. Except for that one.
With a bolt of clarity that struck her like lightning, she suddenly knew why. Two of the most sexually charismatic and attractive people she’d ever known were less than ten minutes away from meeting face to face. The idea made her throat tighten uncomfortably. How had that not crossed her mind? But it hadn’t, not until she’d seen Tommy’s lewd expression when he’d caught a glimpse of Caroline. Not until she’d said his name. Big John.
Caroline would be as taken with John as every other woman in town under eighty always was. And no man she’d ever met could resist Caroline when she decided she wanted him.
Hell.
Caroline whistled and straightened with a worried frown. “From your expression it seems there’s a lot you didn’t tell me. Don’t worry, Tru. I’m not planning on riding any cowboys on this trip, no matter how big they are. I only want to help with your brother if you need me…and get that interview. But you do know that I’m now going to pester you until you tell me everything that blush of yours is hinting at.”
“I know it.” Trudy shrugged, trying not to meet her probing gaze. She opened her car door and slid behind the wheel, waiting for Caroline to follow. When she was in the passenger seat, groaning in gratitude at the fresh blast of cold air that greeted her, Trudy took a deep breath.
Time to go home.
They traveled the rest of the short trip in silence, and Trudy could feel Caroline’s curiosity increase with every passing moment. She turned into the driveway, parked the running car and hopped out to open the gate before driving through, making sure she closed it behind her, then headed down the long, bumpy path that led to the old place.
The trees along the driveway thinned and the land opened up as they reached the two-story house covered in butter yellow paint that was chipped and faded with age. She could see some work had been done. The gutters looked new and the windows were double paned. The white paint aro
und the windowsills and on door looked fresh and clean. But the place had never been paid much attention to, beyond emergency fixes. For as long as she could remember, it had been neglected. Her dad used to say that fixing up the place had been her mother’s dream. When she left, she’d taken that dream with her. Holding onto the land was all that mattered to him after that.
The building they used as a garage was open now, revealing two brand-new, sparkling-clean trucks, three motorcycles and one dirt bike, all carefully lined up and gleaming. Jefferson took better care of his toys than he did the family home. She felt the need to lecture, but who was she to talk? She was a stranger here now.
The rusty old fifty-five Chevy truck they’d always used on the property was out in the middle of the driveway, its hood up and a toolbox beside its front tire. Someone was forever working on that piece of junk. Trudy smiled, remembering her father swearing and cooing at it as if it were a skittish colt.
Someone was working on it now. She slowed her car as she caught sight of a pair of long, thickly muscular legs covered in faded denim sticking out from beneath the truck. One was bent, a dusty boot tapping in time to music she couldn’t hear, and one straight, letting her know that whoever it was, he was tall.
Those legs belonged to John Brown. Her body’s reaction left no room for doubt.
She parked beside the Chevy and took a deep breath. Maybe he wouldn’t notice their arrival. Maybe they could sneak past him and into the house, avoiding this reunion until she could cool off and refresh her war paint. Until she could change into something that wasn’t wrinkled and damp from the heat and travel.
When she opened her car door, she immediately heard the ringing of a cell phone and looked over the hood of her rental car in time to see the boot stop tapping.
“What now?” His voice was deep and rasping, exactly the way she remembered. She leaned against the door when her knees turned to Jell-O.
There was a long pause and then. “Good to know. Yes. No, I don’t think so. I’ll get right on that, boss.”
Caroline had stepped out of the car and Trudy forced herself to walk around the hood to join her as the shirtless man slid out from beneath the Chevy and sat up. John looked up at them in silence for a moment, a slow subtle smile lighting his eyes and transforming his rugged features as he focused in on her. “Welcome home, Trouble.”
Caroline’s whispered, “Oh my,” was difficult to hear with her heart pounding so loudly in her ears. Trudy’s memories had been detailed. Graphically detailed. But they still hadn’t done him justice.
John was…
Kinda broad at the shoulder and narrow at the hip
And everybody knew you didn’t give no lip to Big John
Damn that song anyway. She didn’t need it to remind her that he was perfect. Strong. That she wanted to do so much more to him than give him lip. She squeezed her thighs together as he pushed himself to a standing position, shoved his phone and mp3 player into his pocket and strode closer.
He was impossible to avoid. The definition of the word masculine should have his picture beside it in the dictionary. He was broad–shouldered. Well-muscled in a way that came from hard work and genetics, not gyms and protein shakes, and tan from working the land rather than from an expensive spray at the salon. His chest was lightly covered with damp dark blond hair, glistening with sweat and streaked with grease, and Trudy had to fight the instinct to press herself against him and inhale his scent. To stroke that strong jaw covered in light brown stubble, to trace those sharp cheekbones. To run her fingers through the wavy blond hair that curled wetly around his ears and swooped over his forehead, untamed. The only soft thing about the man was his lower lip. She wanted to suck it. Wanted to taste him.
She’d missed him. She’d had no idea how much until now.
She tried to breathe and focus on regaining her swiftly disappearing control. Her reaction to him had always been a primal one. A submissive one, she knew now after more than a decade of distance, three doomed relationships and years of experience at the club.
At nineteen, hell, even at twenty-one, she’d been too innocent to understand the way he made her feel. All she’d known was he was dangerous. That she had the desire to give him whatever he wanted. That despite her urge to run, if he’d told her to stay for him…
But he hadn’t.
He was watching her with those intense light-blue eyes, squinting to study her beneath the blazing afternoon sun. She wondered what he saw. Other than the subtle indigo highlights she’d rebelliously added to a few of her thick brown curls last week, and the tattoo that could only be seen when her pants were down, she hadn’t changed that much.
Don’t kid yourself, your breasts aren’t nineteen anymore. Everything has changed.
“Trouble?” Caroline’s voice made Trudy stiffen in shock. She’d forgotten they weren’t alone. “Oh, I do love that. Please tell me that was her nickname in high school. I know that’s what I’d call her. In fact, I’m kicking myself for not thinking of it first.”
She stuck out her hand and Trudy watched John’s large palm engulf her small, elegantly manicured fingers politely. “I’m Caroline Aaron, by the way. You must be Big John.”
One of John’s sandy brown eyebrows rose and he glanced at Trudy again. Caroline laughed. “We ran into a sweet old man and his son down the road while we were in nothing but our unmentionables. It was all very scandalous, I’m afraid. He was the one who mentioned your name.”
Trudy noticed John’s lips tighten when Caroline mentioned the unmentionables. “The Gieses? What happened? What did Tommy say?”
“He was rude, if that’s what you’re wondering.” Caroline nodded, her hand leaving his to fan at her face. “Do you think we could take this conversation inside? I believe I could be close to having a fit of the vapors. Isn’t that what happens this far south? Well, now I understand why.”
Trudy sucked her lips, holding back her smile at the bewildered expression on John’s face as he nodded. “Sure.” He turned to snare Trudy’s gaze. “Trudy and I will bring in the bags.”
He wanted to speak to her alone. She could see it in his eyes.
When Caroline glanced her way, Trudy nodded. “That door leads to the kitchen, and there’s a guest bathroom right beside it. Make yourself at home, freshen up and get cooled off. I’ll be right behind you.”
Caroline’s nod was hesitant, but the idea of a bathroom and more air conditioning seemed to motivate her. She reached inside the car for her large purse and turned to walk toward the house, her shorts clinging to her perfect backside in a way that demanded admiration.
Trudy looked up at John through her lashes, certain he would be distracted by the view. But he wasn’t looking at Caroline. His beautiful eyes were heated as they unmistakably focused on Trudy’s breasts. On the V-neck of her T-shirt, which was decorated with classic pin-up girls posing with their curves on display.
“John?”
His jaw tensed. “Trudy?” he mocked softly. “We need to talk.”
Chapter Two
She was back. It was about damn time. Being this close to her, near enough that he could reach out and grab hold, was making it hard for him to believe he’d managed to wait this long.
John was a patient man. Life was hard and long, but with careful determination, even the lightest breeze could eventually wear down a mountainside. At least, that was what he’d come to believe, and that was the way he’d tried to live his life, with restraint and patience. The way a man with his size and history had to live.
Until he met the one woman who could apparently out-stubborn him—Gertrude Estevez Adams.
When she left all those years ago, he’d never imagined the move would be permanent. She’d had words with her father, but he’d bet that as soon as the California lights dimmed, she’d come home and make it right. That hadn’t happened. She’d only come home to bury her father, and John—in a moment of weakness—had forgotten himself, forgotten his patience, and then let her s
lip through his hands. When she’d left again, it forced him to readjust his thinking. She needed more time. Eleven years more time, it seemed. If he’d known that back then…
John looked down at her and his pulse pounded as all the blood in his body rushed south. If he’d known, he still would have let her go, but he’d have given her more than a taste of what she was leaving behind.
Trudy pushed one stray curl behind her ear, revealing the golden skin there and making him lick his lips in anticipation. She was home now. That was all that mattered.
“We need to talk,” he repeated softly, reaching for the first bulging piece of luggage.
“About what?” Trudy’s voice was low, and she wasn’t looking him in the eye. “You said he needed me. I’m here. Is it more than a broken leg, John? Is he sick and not telling me?”
The guilt and worry threaded through those words made him swear silently at himself. Some part of him had known she would think that, and hadn’t cared. Whatever it took to get her to come. Was he a bastard for putting her through that?
“Bruises and a clean break,” he assured her. “That isn’t the problem.”
Trudy bit her lip and John held back a groan. “Is it money, then? Mr. Giese said Jefferson made a deal with him. Are we selling off the land now or something? Are things that bad?”
John bristled. “No.” Not even close. He’d worked his ass off to ensure that the G&J became a self-sustaining success. That despite the current state of the economy, she would never lose her family’s land. Didn’t she read any of Jefferson’s productivity reports? He knew they were copied to her email. He’d made sure of it.
And speaking of the Gieses, what the hell had Tommy seen of Trudy that was so scandalous? He had a sudden desire to beat the little snot down until he found out.
“Then what?” Trudy finally looked up at him in frustration. “Stop being so damned monosyllabic and tell me, John. Why did you bring me here?”
Big Bad John (Bigger in Texas Series) Page 2