She came over to look in the box he’d opened. “What’s all that stuff?”
“These are some of our awards from the department. It’s nothing compared to Wyatt’s.” He nodded to three boxes in the corner. “Those hold trophies from over a decade of riding in the rodeo.”
“Why didn't you ride?”
He brushed his hands together to loosen the dust. “We’re cattle farmers, always have been. Wyatt left for his own reasons.”
She tilted her head and began to trace the patterns on the front of his T-shirt. “What reasons?”
“Wyatt went through a stage in his teens, like many young men do. He got so caught up in the lure of traveling with the rodeo that he didn’t realize how bad things had gotten on the farm one year. Our dad went to work in the mines to earn money until things picked up…but things don’t always turn out as we plan, do they?” It surprised him that just thinking of his father’s sacrifice could bring his emotions to the surface even now. They’d been without him for over a decade.
“So he blames himself?”
“Foolish really. Nothing would have changed whether he was on the farm or not. Crops were bad, beef prices dropped, and the weather was a devil that year. But that’s why he stayed in the rodeo, even as an adult. I don’t think he could face coming home. Too much guilt.”
As Samantha picked up one of his plaques he held her around the waist from behind and nuzzled her neck. It felt good to have someone to talk to. His twin wasn’t one to share his feelings and he wasn’t willing to talk to the wall.
“I hope he doesn’t go back to riding.”
He spun her around and held her shoulders in his hands. “Why do you care so much, Samantha? You barely know us.”
“You three are everything to me. Where would I be if I wasn’t rescued and brought back to life?”
The new voice came from the top of the stairwell. “That’s not enough reason.” Wyatt took measured steps down into the basement. He only wore his jeans, no shirt. With a hand to the ledge of the lower ceiling, he leaned into the room. The muscles in his arm and shoulder flexed and Samantha’s eyes were riveted to his movements.
“Well, I wasn’t finished,” she said. “I was going to say that I feel like I’ve known the three of you forever. No men have ever treated me so well. It may only be a temporary affection, but I still appreciate it.”
* * * *
“Temporary?” Wyatt needed to teach the filly that she was wanted, more than wanted. He was ready to change the entire direction of his life just for her.
Her lips parted slightly, but she didn’t speak.
“I was going to show her some of mom’s old things.” Val had always been the most sentimental, but Cord was the one unable to let go of the past.
“Like what?”
Val reached into a box and gingerly pulled out their mother’s old wooden jewelry box. The gleam in his eyes was that of a ten year old at Christmas. He opened the box and slipped out a necklace and pendant, and then placed it in Samantha’s palm.
“It’s beautiful,” she said, examining the piece of jewelry. Samantha touched it with care, caressing the surface of the pendant with her fingertip. “My mother has something similar. I remember trying to wear it when I was little, even though she said not to touch it. It made me feel like a princess.” She took a breath. “That was a long time ago. Time sure changes a lot. My mom’s health isn’t the greatest now. Sometimes I wish things never changed.”
Val tucked her hair behind an ear as she admired the trinket, half in a daze. “Without change, we’d never have met you. Everything happens for a reason, Samantha.”
Wyatt took the final step into the basement. “It was our mother’s favorite piece. My brothers don’t seem to be able to let go of the past.”
“I wouldn’t talk, brother. Who’s the one that keeps running?”
Wyatt nearly growled when he exhaled. He didn’t like being reminded of what he knew too well. It was easier said than done to let go of guilt. It festered inside him like a cancer and he knew of only one cure—the woman standing in front of him.
“I’m here now.” He tilted Samantha’s chin up and kissed her on the lips without invitation. When she sighed against his lips, he knew she was more than willing. “Were you planning to bed my brother before I came down here? You seem awfully ripe, baby doll.”
“Of course not!” She scowled at him, but it faded as soon as he rubbed his palm over his hard-on.
“Yes you were.” He got comfortable, sitting on two stacked crates. “Now get to it.”
“Damn, the stories are true.” Val took the necklace from Samantha and carefully returned it to the jewelry box. “Can’t say I’m not game.”
“Be careful when listening to gossip,” he warned. “The only thing you can be sure of is what you see from your own eyes or hear from your own ears. The woman in front of you looks mighty real to me.”
He watched as Val slipped off Samantha’s shirt and then dropped to his knee to suck on her tits. Her moans filled the cramped space, increasing his arousal. His brother lowered her to a pallet on the ground, tugged off her pants, and then spread her legs. She made no attempt to protest. Her heavy breathing and hooded eyes were signs of her readiness.
Wyatt adored her little pussy, now glistening with her natural juices.
“Promise I’ll make this up to you, darlin’, but right now I've got to fuck you.” Val unclasped his belt and pulled out his rigid cock. He dropped between her legs and wasted no time in plunging deep into her pussy. Wyatt wouldn’t stroke himself as he watched the two fucking on the floor in front of him. He’d developed excellent self-control during sex over the years. He did find a twisted satisfaction watching two people he loved share pleasure with each other.
“It feels so good,” she cried out.
Val kissed Samantha with passion as he pumped in and out of her sweet cunt. In no time he was sagging over her body.
“Let me finish you off, sweet thing. Come sit on my lap.”
She eased to her feet, half in a daze. Val rolled to his back, making a pillow with his arms behind his head. It was his turn to watch.
“I ache.” She touched her clit, but he swatted her arm away.
“I know you do. Let me make it better.” He released his cock from his jeans, letting it bob in the air until she made the first move.
“Can I taste it?”
His little angel was a siren, testing his rock solid control. “Go ahead,” he coaxed. She bent over, her breasts dangling as she sampled his swollen head.
“It’s so hard. Can I sit on it?”
“I’m not adverse to the idea.” Once she stood, he gripped both her thighs, pulling her up to straddle his lap. She sheathed herself over his erection, her pussy already slick and ready to accept him. He had to hold back a growl as her inner muscles clamped around his cock.
“She’s got a nice little cunt, doesn’t she, brother?” Val was grinning like a fool, slowly stroking his semi-flaccid member.
“Perfect.” He secured her hips and began to thrust. “Ours.”
She ran her hands through his hair and licked a trail along the shell of his ear, leaving little nips along the way.
“Touch yourself, Samantha. I want you to make yourself come.” She obeyed, which served to nearly unravel his control. The rumors were right about one thing—Wyatt liked to dominate his women and it was all coming back to him. Her little hand snaked between them and she played with her clit as he fucked her with his dick. When she neared completion, she fidgeted, grinding on his erection and searching for his lips. They kissed—deeply, intensely. It wasn’t the pressure, the pleasure, or his balls coiling tight that he savored. It was the intimacy, the simple affection between them that he’d remember. As he pumped his seed into her throbbing pussy, he knew he was lost to her.
They didn’t move when it was over, just stayed connected as their breathing settled. Val snaked his hands around her from behind and cupped her breasts
.
“Can we keep her, Wyatt?” Val teased. His brother may be fooling around, but his words carried truth. They both kissed and caressed her, sharing knowing glances over her shoulder. What would they do if she decided to walk out on them?
Chapter Twelve
Four days passed. The men doted over her, wanting to ensure she was one hundred percent recovered from her hypothermia. She’d reassured them a thousand times, so she assumed they enjoyed taking care of her. It was a nice change from her regular life. But it all had to come to an end soon enough.
The sun had been shining for two days straight. Snow was melting, the roads were clear, and the power had returned the previous night. It was time for Samantha to face the music, get her car back, and return to Toronto. She’d have a great time explaining to the car rental place why she was late returning it, and anything could have happened to it being on the side of the road for so long. Her boss was probably calling the house like an enraged animal, wondering why she never answered. He always called her when they were short staffed, and she rarely refused a call-in. But a huge part of her didn’t want to leave the ranch, didn’t want the dream to come to an end. She cared about her three cowboys, could never thank them for all they did for her.
As much as she’d like to stay, she wouldn’t subject them to a lifetime with her. They deserved better, some cute farm girl with a bright future, not a burned-out waitress from the city. She wished things were different, but they weren’t.
“Where’re the twins?” she asked, walking into the kitchen in just woolen socks and Wyatt’s old T-shirt.
“Gone to get your car. Our neighbor, Chase, has a tow truck. They won’t be too long.”
She nodded, her good mood souring. “Good. That’s good.” One step closer to leaving permanently. Why couldn’t the snowstorm have lasted forever?
“You know, we should venture into town to pick you up some clothes, and other supplies you may need.” He poured two mugs of coffee and then returned the carafe to the machine. Wyatt nodded to the living room as he carried the hot drinks. She sat on the sofa but set the mug he offered her on the coffee table. Her mind was too scattered to even think about eating or drinking. She didn’t want to leave the Carson ranch but wouldn’t be a leech, living off the men with no way to support herself. How would she even get to work if she miraculously managed to get a waitressing job in the small town? She wouldn’t rely on these men. It wasn’t right. Samantha valued her independence as much as she hated the constant struggle.
“Val says you usually leave for the rodeo about now.”
Wyatt sat opposite her, cupping his mug as he leaned over his knees. He wore his usual long-sleeved flannel and worn blue jeans. When he looked up from the mug to her, his intense blue eyes nearly caught her breath.
“That’s true. My first event is eight days away, but I was planning to drop out.”
“Oh?”
“Things have changed, haven’t they?” He took a tentative sip of coffee, scowled, and sat it on the table. “Forgot the milk and sugar.” He smirked, a dimple appearing in his cheek. The man was adorable, so rugged and sexy, with an inexplicable boyish charm.
“How so?” She dug her nails into her palm after speaking. What was she doing? Was she actually searching for everything she wanted to hear? Even if Wyatt told her she was the reason he changed his plans, it didn’t change the fact any relationship between them was futile.
He rubbed his big, rough hands together. Hands made from hard, honest labor. Hands that felt amazing against her sensitive skin. She watched his every movement, waiting for him to speak. “The day I found you, I was a broken man, Samantha. I was coming home, not sure where I’d end up one day to the next. The circuit has worn me thin, and I know I can’t keep up the lifestyle much longer. Then I came across a girl in a broken-down car. All of a sudden I had a purpose—to help you.” He ran a hand through his hair and exhaled, as if trying to regain a sense of composure. “I’ve been happier the past week than I’ve been in years. Only a fool would give that up, don’t you agree?”
She shook her head. “I’m nobody, Wyatt. I agree you should stop riding in the rodeo. It’s dangerous. Settling back home with your brothers will do you all good—”
“And you,” he said firmly.
“Wyatt…” She got up on her feet and walked around the room, pretending to be appraising the pictures and decorations around the living room. “It wouldn’t work.”
“What is it? Is it this house?” He bolted to his feet, his masculine presence nearing her from behind. Once beside her, facing the wooden fireplace mantle, he picked up a trinket and held it up as if it were something that held great power over him. “They’re just things. We can change. We need to change.” He replaced the porcelain collectable back in its place and wandered around, looking at the furniture, the wallpaper, and décor. “It’s a shrine my brothers keep to remember the past, but we need to move on. All of us.”
“That’s good. Change can be good.” Why was she trying to convince him to let her go when she wanted their relationship to work just as much as he did, maybe more so. The way he spoke, with such conviction and emotion, frightened her. She’d never known men to be so passionate, but the Carsons had proved to her time and time again that she’d just been dating the wrong types of men.
“I see that now. Thanks to you.” He turned her to face him and then draped his heavy arms around her waist, tucking her close. “I used to dread the sunrise, no matter how beautiful. It only reminded me of my failures. My father and mother will never see the sky change from red to blue again, because I was too selfish to help them when I was needed. But after all these years, I think it’s time I moved on, gave myself a second chance.”
She reached up and cupped his cheek, rough with stubble. “That’s good. You have to forgive yourself. Living with guilt all your life is a death sentence. It’s no way to live.”
Val had told her how Wyatt carried such guilt over traveling the circuit in his youth when the family needed money. Wyatt believed he could have made a difference if he had returned and helped on the ranch, but it wouldn’t have changed a thing.
Samantha didn’t live with that level of guilt, but she still hated herself for not doing more with her life when she had the chance. She also desperately wanted to be able to help her own family, but didn’t have the means. It was easy to relate to Wyatt’s inner demons because hers were so similar.
“So you agree that new beginnings are good for a person?”
“Yes.” Then she thought better. He was referring to her. She could see the intentions in his eyes. “No. Yes. I don’t know.” The tenseness in her muscles softened. Why fight it? Maybe it could work.
“Are you afraid of me? Do you have someone in the city waiting for you?” He searched her eyes, maybe her soul, for answers.
What should she tell him? That she had nothing to go back home to but didn’t want to be a burden to the cowboys, or worse—a mistake. All the men in her life walked out on her or did something to hurt her, so it was hard to trust. What if they isolated her on this ranch with no income, no transportation, and turned from her dream men to a nightmare in time? She’d be trapped, worse off than when she started this godforsaken road trip.
“Nothing like that.”
“Then what is it? Is it us? The house?” He tilted her chin up with a curled finger. “We can change the house, modernize whatever you want. When the winter passes, you’ll see how beautiful the land truly is.”
“You don’t have to convince me, Wyatt. It’s just so soon. I need time to think.”
He took a deep inhale and nodded and then kissed her forehead. “You’re right.” He released her waist. Wyatt stared at her as if she was drifting away from shore and he longed to have her back. He played with her hair the way she loved, running his fingertips along the roots by her face, soothing her, lulling her. “How about we head into town and get you a few things. When the twins get home tonight, we can worry about getti
ng you home, if that’s what you want.”
She agreed, and after she slipped on a pair of makeshift pants, they both donned their coats. He’d pulled away from her emotionally when he released her physically, and she instantly missed their connection. Maybe she needed the men more than she realized.
Chapter Thirteen
“We towing it back to your place?” asked Chase, cigarette hanging precariously from his lips, as he used his controls to raise the little car’s rear into the air. The chains rattled, and the metal groaned in protest.
“There’s more than enough fuel at the ranch. We stocked up for the storm.” Cord was exhausted after digging out the car enough for the tow truck to back into position. They were miles from home, so he’d owe Chase a big favor for coming all the way out here to tow the vehicle for him. The window was smashed, as Wyatt mentioned, but otherwise the car looked to be undamaged. It didn’t matter what the rental place said. Samantha need not worry. Ever since she woke up from her coma, she’d worried herself sick over the damn rental. But she was his responsibility now, and he’d pay for any damages or late fees incurred.
Cord shook off his padded jacket before joining Chase and Val in the pickup. “So what’s the story with this girl you found?”
“Not just any girl,” said Val. “She’s the one.”
“Really now?” Chase shifted into gear, a crooked smirk on his face. “Which one of you does she have wrapped around her little finger?”
Cord and Val shared a look. Explaining that all three of them were comfortable sharing her wasn’t something they expected would be widely approved of. If it wasn’t the norm, it was looked down upon in their neck of the woods.
“Her name is Samantha and she’s none of your concern. You worry about that little sister of yours, not us.” Cord was glad he only had brothers. If he had a little sister with a body to die for, he’d be gray by now. Chase was as overprotective as they came, so Cord knew the comment would shut him up and give them an escape from providing an explanation about Samantha.
Espino, Stacey - Hardcore Cowboys [Ride 'em Hard 1] (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour) Page 9