by Leah Braemel
“Would that freak you out?” Since she’d never used the L word herself on any guy before, she could only go by what she’d heard her girlfriends say about how their dates had not reacted well when they’d said it.
“No.”
“Then I...I...” Shit the word stuck in her throat. The last person she’d said I love you to had been her mother, and look how that had turned out. “I like you. A lot.”
The eyebrow drew down in a dark slash. “That wasn’t the L word I was thinking about.”
She shifted her gaze to focus on her hands. “Hey, you’ve not used the L word either, so all’s fair, right?”
If he had, she’d have probably run out the door as if her ass had been set on fire.
“Yeah, I have. Just not while you’re awake.”
“What?” Her head came up involuntarily at his quiet response until she jerked it back down again.
He cupped her jaw in his palms and swiveled her chin until she met his gaze. His warm, steady gaze. “I hope I’m not screwing this up by saying it too soon, but I love you, Paige. And I’ve never said that to any other woman before.”
Oh God. Her heart raced to hear the actual phrase. Other than her mother, no one had said it to her before. Well, a couple of her dates had but they hadn’t meant it the way Jake did. Their motivation had nothing to do with love, but pure sex for sex’s sake.
She searched his eyes for panic or mirth or something to tell her he wasn’t serious but found only sincerity. Part of her felt like Sally Field accepting the Oscar while the other part wanted to push him away before he could hurt her. Because the only other person who had said it with feeling had been ripped from her life. “Really?”
“Yeah. Really.” He smoothed his things over her forehead. “Hey, are you freaking out on me now?”
“Little bit.” Try a whole lot. Which he could probably tell from the way she was shaking.
“Don’t worry. I won’t press you to say it to me until you’re ready.” He placed his hands on her hips, his thumbs tunneling under her shirt to stroke her sides. “Are you sure you can’t tour with me?”
So tempting. God, she was so not ready for this. Come on, be sensible. You’ve known him less than a month and you’re considering changing your whole life for him? “Reba went to a lot of trouble to get me hired. I can’t just walk away.”
The first thing her father would say if she did, “You’re just like your mother.” Followed by words like “fickle and temperamental,” or worse, “unstable.” Maybe she was. She forced a smile. “Besides, there’d be no room in your truck for me anyway.”
He pulled away, his smile still in place, though some of the heat had disappeared. “I know. I can still dream that when this whole scheme pans out and I get rich and famous I can buy one of those big tour buses and you won’t have to work. You could travel with me all around the country. Be my personal roadie manager.” A tug at the hem of her shirt, he bared her breasts, thumbed the nipples, never taking his eyes off hers. He knew just where to touch, how much pressure to send flames cascading from her breasts down to her pussy. “You could keep the groupies at bay.”
Her body softening beneath his touch, she nodded. “That would be cool. Not the groupies throwing themselves at you, but touring with you.”
He shifted until she was lying beneath him, then sat back on his heels and unzipped her fly. “Lift up.”
No arguments there. Within seconds her jeans and underwear lay in a heap on the floor. He bent his head and reached for his own zipper.
“Need help with that?”
He glanced up, his lips curving up as if he sensed she was struggling not to sit up. To not touch him. “I’m good. Just stay where you are.”
She squirmed at the rasp of the metal teeth on their downward path, knowing what was hiding behind them. Holy Hannah, that’s all it took to get her wet and needy. Her legs naturally fell open without any urging as he pushed the denim off his hips. His long, thick length sprang free, bobbing as it taunted her. After having sex almost every day since she’d met him, it was going to be disappointing to go back to her battery-operated boyfriends to get off. Don’t think about that. Just enjoy the here and now.
She bit her lip as he rolled on a condom. He slowly fisted his shaft. “So did you never go anywhere once you started living with your dad?”
Really? Seriously, he expected her to think about how she’d been stuck in Joshua Falls ever since. She hauled herself up on her elbows. “You keep teasing me, Grady, and I’ll tie you down to the bed and show you how good I am at teasing. And believe me, I can be very creative.”
His eyes widened, heated even more. “Promises, promises.” He caught her hands and trapped them above her head, using his weight to hold her in place. “You were about to tell me about how you’ve never traveled.”
A shift of his hips slid the blunt head of his cock over her clit, driving her insane. Over and back in a relentless rhythm until she was panting. “Dan doesn’t like...oh...traveling. Said there was no reason...yeah, right there...” What were they talking about again? Who cared. She tilted her hips, willing his thick shaft to find its way inside.
“Uh uh.” He freed her hands, placing his arms on either side of her head, effectively keeping her trapped in place. Her brain stuttered as he pressed inside her, stretching her with a slow delicious pressure.
Oh God, he’d be leaving tomorrow. This would be the last night they’d make love for almost three months. The last time they might ever make love. He’d go on the road, find someone else. Someone not broken and unwanted. Anyone else. Use that L word on them. For all she knew he’d said it to every girl he’d laid.
Something stung her eyes making her blink. And blink again. Her chest hurt too. What the hell was happening?
“Shhh, don’t cry.”
“I’m not crying.” Blink. Blink.
He swiped a thumb beneath her eyes and held it up, a drop glistening at the tip. “I’m not leaving you forever, baby. I’ll be back before Thanksgiving. And we can chat online in the meantime. Skype.” He wrapped his arms around her. “Don’t cry, baby. Not over me. I’m not worth it.”
“I’m not crying. I never cry. And you are so worth it.”
Oh God, he thought he wasn’t good enough for her. What a sweet, sweet man. And so blind.
Chapter Seventeen
If Jake had been home, his momma would have yelled at him for the trail of mud his boots left on the hotel’s marble floor. He muttered “sorry about the mess” as he passed the hotel janitor patiently leaning on his mop handle, Cam, Drew and Hunter echoing similar apologies behind him. His shirt clung to him like a second skin, the motel’s air conditioning quickly cooling the miniscule amount of warmth he had left.
The day had begun so promising—blue sky, an invigorating nip in the early morning air, stirring his Texas-warmed blood. The thick carpet of pine needles crunched beneath their feet as they’d wandered the campgrounds beside the Boots and Spurs venue—which had turned out to be an old racetrack.
The first of the clouds rolled in as they did their sound checks. Thunder rumbled in the distance when they took to the stage. At least they’d been able to take cover under the stage’s tarpaulin when the mother-of-all storms whipped around them, unlike many of the fans who had braved staying in the fields during the mid-afternoon storm.
It wasn’t until after their set they’d discovered the camp grounds had flooded and left their trailer, along with every camper parked around them axle deep in mud. Each of them had dropped more than a few F-bombs when they also discovered that someone had broken into the trailer and ransacked it. Anything of value, from their backup instruments to Jake’s iPad and Cam’s laptop were missing. As if that weren’t enough, the bastards had opened the windows and soaked all their bedding.
Right now he’d kil
l for a shower. One he could throw Drew into—the drummer must have been wearing that shirt four days straight. Jake’s eyes watered when the guy got too close, though from the smell of him, today’s rain had mitigated some of his BO.
Jake booked a room, using his credit card to pay for it. Which he’d probably end up paying for on his own anyway.
Cam groaned as he handed out the extra card keys. “Dude, that was brutal today. I’m surprised the crowd at the gate didn’t riot.” Thanks to a mix-up, some bright spark had closed the gates, resulting in a five-hour wait out on the road. If they hadn’t had been able to reach their tour manager who had called the gate to let them in, they would have missed their own session.
Yawning widely, Hunter punched the button for the elevator “I was terrified I was going to get electrocuted with all the water on the stage.”
Jake had kept an eye on the cables too. The tarp that was supposed to shield the stage from the sun did precious little against the driving rain. But they’d been expected to play, so they had. “Gotta give the volunteers credit for dealing with the worst of them though. Not a job I’da wanted.”
They fell silent in the elevator, and stumbled down the hall until Jake stopped at the number written inside the envelope. “Two oh seven. This is us.”
Once inside, Jake tossed his hat on an empty chair and ran his fingers through his hair. Despite his resentment at having to wear a cowboy hat, it had come in darned handy in keeping the sun off his face. When it was sunny. It had provided precious little coverage in the rain. Maybe if he got lucky, it had gotten wet enough that it would lose its shape and he could ditch the thing.
A line up immediately formed for the bathroom, Drew somehow ending up in there first. As he emerged he announced, “I’m going to hit the bar. See if I can find some groupie to hang out with in her room. Hunter, you coming?”
A muffled shout of agreement made it through the bathroom door.
Cam grabbed a fresh shirt and was still struggling to put it on as he called, “Hang on, I’m gonna come with you. You comin’ with us, Jake?”
“No. You go on without me.” The second the door closed behind them, Jake pulled out his phone to call Paige then paused. She’d probably be asleep. Her hand curled beneath her cheek, her lips parted, Pebbles snoring at her feet, Brewskie lying on his back, all four feet up in the air, huffing as he dreamed of chasing rabbits. The way she’d been lying as he’d slipped from their bed the morning he’d left. He’d stared at her for a long time, memorizing the way her hair spread out over his pillow. Then she’d awoken, turning those large dark eyes on him, blinking as she focused to awareness, all rumpled and warm and soft. Feminine sprung to mind, but he hadn’t said it. She would have taken it as an affront. Or she’d be afraid when she realized he’d seen through her hard shell exterior, past all the leather and the tattoos and the piercings. And seen the vulnerable woman beneath.
Although he suspected she’d deliberately let him see through the crack in her façade. If that was the case, he shouldn’t be leaving at all. But he had to.
He’d pressed a finger to her lips, and told her to stay in bed. She’d tried to get up anyway, claiming she wanted to help him get ready.
He’d bent over and kissed her until she stayed in place, knowing it would have to last him for far too long before he got another.
He turned on his side, blocking out the thought that she might meet someone else, might never be in his bed again. Had she realized his desperate ploy at binding her to him by getting her to take his dogs? His hope that every day she came home and was greeted by their wagging tails, she’d think of him?
His phone vibrated in his hand. Huh, Paige. She’d been thinking of him too.
“Hey, you.” Her voice floated through the phone and settled into his head in a caress. She asked how his latest gig had gone, he asked about her job—she was filling in for one of their accountants who had gone on vacation. He asked about his dogs, all while he wondered what she was wearing, if she was in bed. He hoped she was.
“Anyway,” she said, her tone alerting him to pay attention, “the auditor is giving his report tomorrow morning. Reba and I have been asked to sit in.”
“Do you know what it says?”
“No, but I’m pretty confident it’ll be similar to the numbers I gave you before you left.”
Which were terrifyingly large red numbers.
“Jake? It’ll be okay.”
“I know.” He, Ben and Gabe had briefly discussed ways to deal with the debt their bookkeeper had created. But even if they had to beg, borrow and steal the funds to pay off their creditors, they’d all agreed, selling off any part of Bull’s Hollow would be viewed as a last ditch effort.
“Jake?”
“Yeah?”
“Don’t take this as a blow to your manhood or anything, but I’ve got some money you can borrow if you want. It’s not a lot, but if you need it...”
She slayed him. She completely. Slayed. Him.
Chapter Eighteen
“As you will find in my report, if you choose to sue her, you have sufficient proof that Bonnie Panola has indeed misappropriated Bull’s Hollow Funds over the past three years.”
No surprise there. Paige shifted her attention away from the auditor so she could watch Ben’s and Gabe’s reactions when Ben asked, “What’s the final total that she stole? Paige has given us a rough estimate, but...”
When the auditor confirmed her numbers, Gabe’s jaw dropped while Ben buried his face in his hands.
Poor guys. Though she’d given them a rough estimate as she’d picked up the discrepancies she’d figured, she knew they’d hoped she was wrong. Sitting in a lawyer’s office hearing the stark numbers repeated had to rip Ben’s heart out, and make Gabe wonder why he’d signed on to be a member of the Bull’s Hollow LLC agreement.
Thank heavens Jake wasn’t there. And that the report hadn’t been delivered before he’d signed the music contracts. He would have given up his dreams in a heartbeat with those numbers.
“As you were informed when you hired my company,” the auditor continued, “it is our policy to forward our report not only to you but also to the appropriate authorities to assist in criminal prosecution against Mrs. Panola.”
Randy stood and shook the auditor’s hand. “Thank you, Mr. Poole. I’ll just show you out.” A glance around at the table. “I’ll be right back and we can hear Mrs. Tuckett’s report on the state of the ranch’s finances.”
Sitting between Paige and the chair the auditor had vacated, Reba opened her laptop and booted it up. Sitting across the large wooden table, Ben fiddled with his phone while Allie consulted something on a tablet. At the far end of the table, Gabe sat stiffly beside his lawyer, the infamous Victoria Taylor-Massey, a sophisticated blonde from her elegant dove gray suit with white silk shirt, with a simple gold bangle at her wrist, to the bored expression that couldn’t hide the alertness in her eyes. Victoria’s stylish updo made Paige aware of her own helmet hair.
Randy returned and took his seat at the head of the table like a king presiding over his court. After a word to Kim, the clerk taking the notes on the session, he nodded to Reba. “Now, Mrs. Tuckett, if you would present your report?”
Reba cleared her throat while Paige handed out copies of her report. “As you’ll note in Miss Reynolds’ report, we’ve uncovered a number of unpaid receipts and further debts that Mrs. Panola incurred under Bull’s Hollow’s name. Your insurance coverage both for land and vehicles has lapsed which means any claims for Mrs. Panola’s thefts will not be covered and your client will be responsible for covering the debts she’s left.” She listed the outstanding accounts and the figures, her tone compassionate but professional. “At the moment the most outstanding debt is the property tax bill, which has been outstanding for the past two years, and has garnered further penalti
es and interest. Also of concern is the outstanding bill with Carter Valley Feed Mill, which I understand has resulted in a filed motion for foreclosure.”
“In short, Mr. Freeman,” Victoria drawled with a pointed glance at Gabe, “Bull’s Hollow is in severe financial trouble.”
“We’re good for it,” Ben snapped. “The land alone has been valued at almost fifty million dollars, not counting buildings and machinery. We’re just temporarily short of cash, that’s all. If we have to, I can go to my grandma and ask for help.”
“Ah, yes, the esteemed Mrs. Agnes Carter Grady.” Victoria tapped her pen on her yellow legal pad. “I’ve heard that trying to get money from that old lady is like trying to extract compassion from a rock. As it smashes into your face.”
Ben’s shoulders tightened. “Jake and I are her grandsons. She’ll help us.”
One elegant blonde eyebrow arched. “Will she? Considering Jake isn’t technically her grandson? Or have you failed to inform her of that tidbit?”
“Victoria, stop baiting him.” Gabe frowned. “We’ll figure something out. We’re shipping cattle in a few weeks. That’ll bring in some cash.”
Paige settled back as Reba continued with the rest of her recommendations.
When the question of who would act as their bookkeeper arose, Reba recommending Cissy continue with Paige’s oversight, Gabe’s lawyer raised a hand. “Excuse me, but I have a problem with that recommendation. First off, I don’t consider Charlene Grady competent to act in that capacity considering she failed to catch your previous bookkeeper’s light fingers. She obviously does not have an eye for detail which, given the deplorable state of the ranch’s finances, is important to my client’s new position as part-owner. Not to mention Mrs. Grady’s continued hostility toward my client is unacceptable. Secondly, while Miss Reynolds has done a competent job reorganizing the books, I object to Miss Reynolds or Kligman and Tuckett continuing to have anything to do with Bull’s Hollow’s finances given their obvious bias against the Grady family.”