Racked and Stacked

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Racked and Stacked Page 2

by Lorelei James


  “Vaguely. But it’s not in the same league as the threats you’ve given me.”

  “Used to give you,” she said sweetly. “Do you miss those threats?”

  “Nope.” He grinned. “But they were creative as hell. I will admit that much. So feel free to direct those insults at anyone else to keep me entertained tonight.”

  Riss pretended to wipe away a tear. “That’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.”

  As they reached the main lobby, Ike said, “Think Boy Scout and Sweetie Pie will ditch their wedding reception again?”

  Her former nemesis had a sly sense of humor. Calling Tobin “Boy Scout” and Jade “Sweetie Pie” always made her laugh because his descriptions of their BFFs were dead-on. “They can try. It’s up to us to stop them.”

  Ike groaned.

  She patted his cheek. “Smile, cowboy. The night is all uphill from here.”

  Chapter Two

  One hour later . . .

  “It was just a blow job.”

  Ike froze outside the doorway when he recognized Riss’s voice.

  So much for her being on her best behavior.

  “It was a stellar blow job, hot stuff, and you know it,” the unseen male responded hotly.

  “It was ages ago.”

  “I think about it all the time. And seein’ you here . . . I consider it a sign since I’ll be workin’ in Casper for a few months. I’d sure like to get together again. Take you out on a real date this time.”

  Ike cringed. Oh, buddy, wrong thing to say.

  “Not interested.”

  “Come on. Just one date.”

  “I told you before. I don’t date.”

  “Ever?”

  “Never ever ever ever.”

  “Why not?”

  Christ on a cracker. Why wouldn’t this guy just take a hike?

  “Lemme spell it out. The ratio of men to women in this state is four to one. That’s way too many partners for me to pass up.”

  “So you’re happy just whorin’ your way through Wyoming a blow job at a time?” the guy demanded.

  “Yep.”

  Then Riss emerged through the doorway, head held high.

  Never a dull moment around her.

  When Ike turned the corner, he was face-to-face with the recipient of Riss’s oral expertise.

  The man—still smarting from Riss’s smackdown—glared at Ike. “What do you want?”

  He pointed at the bathroom. “To use the can. You in line?”

  “Nah. It’s open.” Recognition dawned on the guy’s face. “Hey. I know you. Ike, right? Cattle broker with Stocksellers?”

  Instead of correcting him with former cattle broker or I got shitcanned, Ike said, “Yeah, that’s me. Remind me again where I should know you from?”

  “Ryland Johnson. I work at the Blackwood sale barn.”

  Although Ike had zero recollection of this guy, the salesman in him surfaced. He offered his hand and a smile. “Now I remember. What’re you doin’ out here?”

  “Me’n my buddies signed up for a private hunt.”

  “The Split Rock has great guides. You’re sure to get your money’s worth. Nice seein’ you again. Take care.” Ike sidestepped him.

  But Ryland blocked the door. He jerked his chin toward the private banquet room. “Are you at the same wedding as Riss Thorpe?”

  “Yep. Why?”

  “What’s the deal with her? Is she dating anyone?”

  She just told you she ain’t the dating kind, jackass. “Do you know her?”

  “I’d like to get to know her better. This is the first time I’ve seen her since we . . . ah . . . hooked up a few months ago.”

  “And you were lookin’ for a repeat?”

  “Yeah.”

  Ike shook his head. “Look elsewhere. Riss is the ‘one and done’ type.”

  “More like blow and go,” Ryland grumbled. “Maybe if I—”

  “Don’t even try to change her mind unless you want your balls kicked into your throat and a fat lip.”

  The mouth breather immediately bristled up.

  “Not a threat from me, buddy. I’m just warning you that’s what Riss will do to you if you keep bugging her.”

  Ryland looked skeptical. “I’ll keep it in mind.”

  When Ike returned to the wedding reception, he sidled up to Riss standing at the bar. “A funny thing happened on the way to the bathroom . . .”

  “I’ve heard this joke before,” she deadpanned.

  “Not a joke. I ran into a friend of yours.”

  Riss faced him, her green eyes narrowed with suspicion. “What friend?”

  “Guy named Johnson.” Ike took a plastic cup of beer from the man tending the keg and nodded his thanks. “He claims you’re familiar with—”

  “His Johnson?” she inserted. “Unfortunately.” She snagged the shot glass off the bar top, downed it, and signaled to the bartender for another.

  “Whoa there, partner. You promised Jade you’d be on your best behavior and you’re doin’ shots?”

  “I promised her no tequila. This is rum.”

  He raised a brow. “Like that is somehow better?”

  “For me? Yes. So what’d he say to you?”

  “He asked if you were dating anyone. He seemed a little put out that you wouldn’t . . .” He grinned. “Well . . . put out.”

  “Christ. Suck a guy’s dick one time and suddenly he’s in love.”

  Ike choked on his beer.

  Laughing, Riss slapped him on the back. “You oughta be used to my lewd and crude mouth by now, Palmer.”

  “Not when your goal is maximum shock value with minimum effort, Thorpe.”

  She shrugged. “Some people consider my vulgar vocab my most charming attribute.”

  “Really? Name one person.”

  “Jade.”

  “She’s from New York. Nothin’ shocks her, so she don’t count.”

  “Whatever. I know you’re dying to hear the dirty details about me’n the big Johnson.”

  “Why would I give a damn about how you handled that tool?”

  “Because you, Ike Palmer, are as snoopy as a fifteen-year-old girl.” She poked him in the chest. “Don’t deny it.”

  He couldn’t. “Fine. Get it off your chest if you have to, so I can immediately scrub it from my brain.”

  “Four or five months ago I drove a load of cars to a junkyard in Nebraska. I had to spend the night and ended up in the local bar, where I met Ryland. We had some shots, some laughs, and I figured what the hell, I was horny, and he was there. I blew him in the parking lot and he lasted like a minute, setting off my bad-sex warning bells, so I cut my losses and went to bed alone.”

  “You assumed he’d be a lousy lay because he was quick on the trigger?”

  “Uh, yeah. Stamina is a good thing.” She cocked her head. “Oh no, cowboy. Did I hit a nerve? Are you and Johnson packing the same kind of fast-shootin’ gun?”

  “No,” he scoffed.

  “Sure you aren’t.” She patted his shoulder. “Belly up to the bar and tell Doc Riss about your stamina issues.”

  “That’s never been an issue for me. I’m just saying that your aggressiveness probably caught him off guard since most guys don’t get blow jobs from women they just met unless they’re paying for it. I doubt the poor SOB had had many encounters with a woman like you.”

  “And that, my friend, is exactly why I bailed.”

  While watching her tongue circle the rim of the shot glass, Ryland’s claim It was a stellar blow job echoed in Ike’s head.

  “Besides, the guy couldn’t kiss for shit. That’s the best indicator of how good his tongue game is.”

  His don’t ask mantra vanished instantly. “Seriously?”

  “Ye
p. I did us both a favor by walking away.”

  Ike leaned in. “He don’t see it as a favor and I suspect he’ll try to corner you again even when I warned him off. So if you need me to—”

  “He gets out of line, I’ll handle him. I’ve never been a damsel and I ain’t about to start acting like one now.” Riss pushed her red curls off her damp forehead. “Keep an eye on the horny duo. It’s hotter than balls in here and I need to get some fresh air.”

  “It’s four degrees below zero outside,” he reminded her, watching that curvy ass twitch as she exited the side door.

  Grumbling about hardheaded women, Ike headed to the back of the room, where he intended to perfect his wallflower impression as he watched for the bride and groom to try to make a break for it. He’d never imagined this would be part of his best man duties.

  It’d surprised him when Tobin had asked him to be his best man, since Tobin had two brothers and Renner Jackson had been more than just Tobin’s boss. Then again, as the remaining bachelors in their group of friends, in the last few years he and Tobin had spent their free time together.

  Until Jade entered the picture. Then Tobin was one hundred percent about his new love. That hadn’t been a surprise. Tobin had always been looking for a serious relationship.

  Not Ike. He liked the single life. Usually weddings were a great place to hook up, but as Riss had pointed out, the only single women at this one were the Mud Lilies—a seventy-plus set that included Jade’s grandmother—and the blow job queen, Riss.

  “So what’s this I hear about Hugh staying on the West Coast?”

  Ike looked at his longtime friend Bran Turner, who’d snuck up on him. With a beer in his hand and no sign of his three rambunctious boys, the rancher appeared more relaxed than Ike had seen him in a few years. “Wouldn’t you stay where palm trees blow in the ocean breeze?”

  Bran smirked. “Point taken. What’s he been up to?”

  “Meeting with rodeo committees to convince them to use Jackson Stock Contracting for their events. There’s a huge market and hasn’t been much competition. Seems a lot of them use the same stock contractors and have for years.” Sometimes my ability to bullshit around the truth surprises even me.

  “I can see why.” Bran took a swig of his beer. “It’s a big area to cover. The price of hauling premium rodeo stock has to be somewhat cost prohibitive.”

  “Could be. But contestant complaints have led the Cowboy Rodeo Association to investigate events where the scores have been consistently low. We’re lookin’ for opportunities to fill in as temporary contractors—and show our versatility and top-notch rough stock.” If they could ever get any takers. They’d been pounding the blacktop for a year and a half on behalf of their new business endeavor and so far few rodeo committees had followed through with their promise to partner with them. But as Ike had done his entire professional life as a salesman, it was all about how you spun it. And the last thing he wanted was for anyone to realize that under his co-ownership, Jackson Stock Contracting was spiraling toward failure. He hadn’t even told Riss how bad things were after they’d used her as a driver. Like an asshole, he’d led her to believe they’d been using another trucking company to transport their livestock to events . . . instead of admitting the truth that they hadn’t added any new events at all.

  “I’m glad you’re doin’ something you like. But, man, I hate to think of the day when you’ll be too busy to deal with my cattle sales.”

  That day had arrived more than a year ago, but not due to his busyness. Now wasn’t the time for Ike to confess he’d been fired from his previous job and signed a no-compete clause, so he’d bought into the stock-contracting business to save face. He had months to suggest another broker before this year’s calves would be saleable. Ike gave him a considering look. “You draw the short straw to bring this up with me?”

  “Yeah.” Bran sighed. “You’ve always gone above and beyond for the Lawsons and me. Same for Renner, Kyle and Eli. I suspect you’re still dealing with the Hales’ sales even when that’s become a clusterfuck.”

  “You don’t know the half of it.” Ike did a quick scan of the room. He still couldn’t believe that Dan and Driscoll Hale—Tobin’s father and oldest brother—had skipped Tobin and Jade’s wedding. Even though Dan Hale had been the first rancher to sign on with Ike years ago when he’d first started in the cattle-brokering business, even if Ike still had his job with Stocksellers, he would’ve ended his association with Dan.

  “I don’t wanna know the ugly particulars, but now that Streeter is workin’ for Renner at the Split Rock full-time, I’m hearin’ them anyway, since my wife loves to gossip.”

  So do you. Ranchers were a nosy lot. Everyone in the county knew everyone else’s business—or they thought they did.

  A shit-eating grin creased Bran’s face. “Hot damn. My wife has that look in her eyes, so I gotta go.” Bran clapped Ike on the shoulder. “See ya.”

  And he was gone.

  Ike saw the couple slip out the side door.

  First lesson he’d learned when he started doing business at the Split Rock? Never open any door without knocking first. That included the door to the storage closet and the walk-in cooler. His married friends apparently snuck in a quickie whenever they had the chance.

  “Who’re you hiding from?” Riss asked, causing him to jump, since she’d snuck up on him.

  “You.”

  She snickered. “And here I am again, just like a bad penny.” Then she nudged him. “Scoot over so we’re both in the shadows.”

  “Why? Did Johnson try to corner you outside again?” he said sharply.

  “No. But us both bein’ in the shadows is a stealthy way to bust Tobin and Jade.”

  That didn’t sound right. He squinted at her. She’d lost some of that sexy swagger he secretly found appealing. “You sure that’s the only reason?”

  “It’s just . . .” She glanced down before meeting his gaze. “These formal dresses suck. I’m sure I look as awkward in it as I feel.”

  No, freckles, you look awful damn cute.

  Cute. Right. She’d kidney-punch him if he ever called her cute to her face.

  Normally Riss wore baggy and stained coveralls, or painter’s pants, paired with an equally baggy hoodie.

  But she had cleaned up very well for this wedding. She’d tried to tame her crazy red curls into a ponytail. Leaving her neck exposed accentuated the ivory tone of her skin. She’d used eyeliner that made the green hue of her eyes even more arresting—the color ranging between pale green and peridot, depending on her mood. Her emerald-colored bridesmaid’s dress molded to her, reminding him—and every other male—that she’d been blessed with a truly magnificent body, especially her tits.

  “Why are you staring at me?” she demanded. “It’s sure takin’ you a long damn time to come up with an insult.”

  “Truce, remember?” Ike allowed his gaze to encompass her face, as if he was truly seeing her for the first time. “You don’t look awkward, Riss. You look really pretty.” Before he could stop himself, he ran the back of his knuckles down her cheek, from her temple to the tip of her chin. “It pains me—”

  “To admit that?”

  “No. And stop interrupting me. It’s a pain to see that you covered up your freckles.”

  She blinked at him. “Why?”

  He shrugged. “I like them. They’re just . . . you.” That sounded like a come-on. He backtracked. “Besides, makeup hides your level of anger so I can’t see your face getting red.”

  “Then that means you can’t see me blushing either.”

  “Why would you be blushing?”

  She blushed even deeper. “Because you said I looked pretty.”

  He barely kept his jaw from dropping. This woman could babble about blow jobs in public without batting an eye, but a compliment brought heat to her cheeks? He did
n’t know what the hell to even say to that.

  “Genuine flattery from Palmer the Charmer is enough to make any woman swoon.”

  She did a shimmy-shake with her shoulders—was that supposed to convey a swoon?—sending her enormous breasts swaying, and Ike’s avid gaze tracked every shift of flesh against fabric. “At least you were looking at my face.” Another shimmy-shake sent her breasts bouncing. “Not that you are now. It’s hard to look away from the girls when they’re out of captivity, isn’t it?”

  Jesus. “How long do we have to stick around after the newlyweds are allowed to leave for real?”

  Surprisingly, she didn’t needle him about the rapid subject change. “I’m not sure. I know Jade’s mom and dad are staying until the last guest leaves. I thought the Mud Lilies would be whoopin’ it up tonight and chase everyone away, but they’ve been on their best behavior.”

  “I suspect Jade demanded obedience from them the same as she did from you.”

  “Me obedient? Never. My toned-down behavior is strictly voluntary.”

  Ike preferred wild Riss. She had a spontaneity he lacked. “Like that’s a shocker.”

  “I am shocked that none of the Mud Lilies have stalked you and demanded a dance.”

  “Me too. I figured since they were behaving they’d track me down and regale me with stories about the wild bachelorette party you threw,” Ike said.

  Riss rolled her eyes. “You really think that Garnet would let anyone else plan a night of debauchery for her only granddaughter? She barely let me host a bridal shower for her.”

  “That’s strange, ain’t it?”

  “You don’t know the half of it. Garnet’s cronies have called dibs on throwing Jade a killer bachelorette party.”

  “They do understand that a bachelorette party is supposed to take place before the wedding, right?”

  “Not in the Mud Lilies’ universe. According to Jade, the only way Tobin would agree to let them plan a party was if it took place after the wedding and the honeymoon.”

  His eyebrows rose. “Tobin is usually putty for them old gals.”

  “Not when he overheard Garnet and Miz Maybelle discussing the ‘ultimate Vegas girls’ weekend,’ which included a trip to a gun range, a skyscraper zipline challenge and an overnight stay at the Desert Dreams Dude Ranch. He forbade them from taking Jade out of Wyoming. Not fun for him to fly to Vegas to bail them all outta jail.”

 

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