Naughty by Nature: The Lowells of Honeywell, Texas Book 2

by J. M. Madden

  Cheyenne guided her back through the barn door and to the room-sized, portable outhouse one of Brock’s men had built just for this occasion. It had been hooked up to a hose outside, so it had running water to flush the toilet and clean with. It was actually quite nice and almost felt like you were in a house, with a tile floor and high-end fixtures. There was a baby changing table in one corner, and a front porch with a chair. It was also completely handicapped accessible. Brock had reasoned that it would be used more than once over the coming months.

  As soon as they returned to the barn, John pulled Shannon down into his lap and wheeled her toward the refreshments.

  An older man walked into the room, silver haired and dark eyed, with a beautiful redheaded woman on his arm. Cheyenne immediately flung her arms around the man, then turned to Sheridan. “This is Chad’s boss and partner, Duncan Wilde. Duncan, Sheriff Sheridan Lane. Not sure if you’ve met or not.” She turned to the woman at his side. “And you must be Alex. It’s such a pleasure to meet you!”

  Cheyenne knew immediately that they would get along like long lost friends. Actually, she’d felt an immediate kinship with all of the women that had arrived today. Some of them were bridesmaids in the wedding party, like she and Payton were. Shannon, assuming the babies were delivered fine, was supposed to be the maid of honor, but Cheyenne had cheerfully offered to take over the shower responsibilities for her.

  They all agreed that they needed to have a meeting about the dresses they would be wearing for the wedding—assuming Daddy would give them a color—before the Colorado contingent left Texas.

  Mama and Daddy came out in the midst of all the arrivals. Her father’s eyes gleamed as they looked around at what she and Payton and Brock had done. “I see you’ve been taking plays from my playbook,” he murmured.

  Cheyenne laughed. “Oh, really? Maybe we both just have great taste.”

  “I love you, baby.”

  “I love you too, Daddy.”

  He glanced at Sheridan standing behind her. “You gonna let me plan your wedding too?”

  Sheridan laughed and shook his head. “That’s completely up to her.”

  Cheyenne narrowed her eyes at her father. “We’ll see…”

  Cheyenne lost track of all of the men and women that came. There were so many of Chad’s military friends from the Lost and Found group she lost track of names. Marlene’s NBC group showed up early, because they wanted ringside seats to see who all arrived. They claimed one far side table where they could watch everyone. Cheyenne saw a few other disabled men and women arrive and asked Chad if they were part of his group as well, but Chad shook his head. “Brock said he invited some of the guys from the Sweetwater equine therapy place down the road.”

  Ah, yes, there was Ryan Whitfield, the woman that ran it, weaving her way through the crowd to sit with Payton.

  Emily arrived late to the party, her skin flushed, her pale green eyes looking tired. “I’m sorry I’m late. It was hard getting away from the city today.”

  Cheyenne wrapped her in a hug. “Hey, Chicken. No worries. Just glad you’re here now. Mama and Daddy are over there,” she pointed.

  With a nod, Emily headed in that direction, after grabbing a flute of champagne.

  All of the people in the room took time to talk to Chad and Lora and wish them well. The happy couple ate and danced and played ridiculous games that Cheyenne and Payton had dreamed up. Cheyenne thought Lora looked ethereal in the pale blue dress swirling about her legs as she moved.

  The guests played along when the kids started running around with digital cameras taking silly pictures, and by the end of the night the wooden chest was overflowing with helpful advice cards and all of the Jenga pieces had been signed. Three boxes worth. The toilet paper wedding dress, made by Sophia herself, hung in a place of honor near the bride-to-be.

  Lora caught her eye several times, thanking her over and over again. Chad joined her at one point where she and Sheridan had settled and wrapped her in a hug. “Sis, I can’t thank you enough for everything you’ve done for us today. You’ve made Lora feel like an important part of the family.”

  “She is an important part of the family,” Cheyenne told him sternly.

  “I know, I know. Sometimes it takes people a while to realize that, and a really big demonstration.”

  “Yes,” she agreed, laughing. “But remember. It wasn’t just me. Brock has been working on this for the past week, and Payton has helped me with planning for longer than that.”

  “I already spoke to Brock and thanked him. I’ll find Payton next.”

  With another squeeze, Chad returned to Lora.

  There was a general feeling of goodwill in the room, and Cheyenne took a moment to absorb it. There were a lot of disabled men and a few women here, but no one reacted to the disabilities themselves. She had worried that the general public wouldn’t understand what all the men shared, but she’d been mistaken. Every one was talking and laughing.

  “You know,” Sheridan said softly. “There’s a lot of love in this room right now. Chad has amazing friends. And this community has really stepped up as well.”

  “Yes,” she whispered, leaning back against him.

  “I’m not trying to steal anyone’s thunder, but I have something for you.”

  Cheyenne looked up at him curiously. “What’s that?”

  He fished in his pocket for something, and Cheyenne’s heart began to race.

  “I’ve only loved twice in my life, so this might be a little rusty.” He pulled the ring from his pocket. “Cheyenne Lowell, I love you with all my heart. Will you marry me?”

  She looked down at the giant fake ruby on the sparkly plastic ring and burst out laughing, then met his twinkling gaze with a brilliant smile. “Yes, Sheridan Lane, I will.”

  He cupped her face in his hands and rested his lips on hers, brushing back and forth, breathing her in. Cheyenne sighed as he stroked a finger down the side of her breast.

  “Mama!”

  Cheyenne pulled back, a little dazed. She blinked before looking up at her daughter.

  “What, Savannah?”

  Savannah’s eyes were wide with panic behind her glasses and her nice clothes were suspiciously dusty, with damp patches here and there. “You need to come quick! Grace did something really bad!”

  Still laughing, Cheyenne looked at Sheridan, “Are you absolutely, positively sure about this marriage thing? You’re not getting any more outs.”

  Grinning, he took her hand and tugged her to her feet. “Let’s go see what our daughter’s gotten herself into.”

  The End…

  And now, a sneak peek!

  Following is an unedited first glimpse of Emily and Jackson’s story! You can Pre-order it here! Or you can check JMMadden.com for other links!

  Emily Lowell is in a pickle. At her Brother Chad’s wedding shower, her former lover, Jackson, has just shown her exactly how combustible they still are together.

  Yes, they made a pact to marry if she hadn’t found anyone else within ten years, but the pact is moot. She’s now engaged to be married to one of the hottest real estate brokers in Houston.

  Should she be swayed by the wild heat that Jackson stokes in her, or should she follow the path she’s planned?

  Jackson may not give her a choice…

  Emily didn’t like feeling like she was being stalked. Her glance roved the room, looking for cool blue eyes in a lean Native American face. She’d felt Jackson’s gaze many times before and knew what it felt like when he watched her.

  Glancing around the crowded dance floor, she tried to spot him, but it was impossible in the crush of people.

  “You okay?”

  Emily looked at the man across from her. Kane was a nice guy, he really was, and startlingly attractive, but there was no pull there. They’d danced for a while, then fallen into some line dancing. The band that Cheyenne had hired for Chad and Lora’s shower was awesome. They did covers of all genres, not just country, so
that was really nice. It gave her a chance to move her body.

  Neil never wanted to dance, even when they were alone in the apartment.

  She shoved thoughts of her fiancée away and focused on her current partner. Kane Kaldwell was a handsome man, in spite of the burn scars that had taken most of the golden blond hair on the right hand side of his head. That was mostly hidden beneath his buff colored hat, but he’d shown her when they’d taken a break, as if to get it out of the way. The scars ran down his entire right side, he’d said, compliments of a roadside bomb in northern Afghanistan. His smile dimmed, then, and Emily had reached out to rest her hand on his arm.

  Dancing was good exercise, he’d told her with a twinkle in his golden eyes when he’d approached her. Emily had debated for a moment whether or not to accept, because she was technically engaged. It was the flash of hurt in Kane’s eyes as she’d hesitated that made her accept.

  And she was glad she had. Kane was a sweetheart, well-read, educated. He was only here for a little while to work on his PTSD, he told her frankly, at the Sweetwater Center.

  Emily thought it took true heart to reach for help like that, and she told him so. He’d grinned and shrugged, trying to blow it off, but she thought he appreciated her words.

  Kane excused himself at one point to get them fresh drinks and that was when the move came. Without even looking up, Emily could feel Jackson approaching her from behind. Straightening her spine, she twisted in her seat to face him. “What, Jackson?”

  Jackson Windwalker gave her a sardonic smile, his lips curling. He dragged Kane’s chair away from the table and spun it around, straddling it. Such a Jackson move. “Hello, Emily. I was hoping for a chance to meet your fiancée tonight.”

  She laughed and looked around at the scene. People dancing, liquor flowing, country western music pounding from the speakers, and best of all, it was in a barn. Neil wouldn’t be caught dead here. Emily could understand it was a long commute, but even if this party had been in Houston she doubted he would have attended. This was not his cup of tea. “He had other engagements,” she said carefully.

  One black brow quirked under the shadow of his hat and he looked at her incredulously. “More important than your brother’s engagement party? Has anyone even met Neil yet?”

  “No,” she said, narrowing her eyes at him. “I know what you’re getting at. He is a completely real man, Jackson. He just had other obligations.”

  “Hm,” he murmured, stroking a broad, scarred hand over his chin. “Have you given him enough notice to attend the wedding? I mean, that’s two and a half months away.”

  “He’ll be at the wedding,” she snapped, totally not believing in her own words.

  Neil Shepherd lived and breathed Houston real estate, always on the lookout for the next hot deal. It was a constant source of aggravation for her. Yes, she worked a lot too, but she made time for the relationship. Every minute from Neil was only grudgingly given.

  “And how about your own wedding. Have you set a date for that?”

  She smiled sweetly, refusing to let him see her frustration. “Not yet.”

  Kane returned then, smiling at her, handing her a glass of champagne with raspberries like she liked. Emily took the glass and turned to introduce the two men, but Kane had already stuck his hand out to Jackson. “It’s nice to see you again, Jackson.”

  “Kane.”

  His expression looked calm, but Emily thought she’d heard a bit of anger in Jackson’s deep voice. Normally, very little ruffled him, and she wondered what the poor guy had done.

  Kane pulled a chair from a neighboring table and the men began talking.

  Emily sipped at her champagne and turned to look at the seated crowd. Dinner had been eaten, as well as dessert, and they’d moved onto the drinking and dancing and yarn spinning. There were many locals here, most of which she knew, but there were just as many new people here, friends of Chad and Lora’s she assumed.

  Some of the pairings were a little comical. The former model Lilly Carmichael, one of Chad’s friends, was seated with Marlene’s Naughty Book Club. Her handsome fiancée stood behind her chair, stroking her shoulders. Emily wanted to talk to her herself because the woman designed stunning clothes.

  There was a truly intimidating man over against the wall that had scowled at her when she’d walked in, and it had taken her aback, even scared her a little. The man was serial killer material. But right now he held Chad’s soon-to-be stepdaughter Mercy on his knee, and he was leaning in for her to tell him something.

  She wondered what would make a lion bow to a mouse like that.

  Daddy had his head down and was talking to a voluptuous African American woman, when they suddenly burst out laughing.

  Then, a few minutes ago, a man missing both legs had arrived in an all-terrain wheelchair, causing a bit of a stir. Right now Chad’s buddy John was talking to the man, and they were both leaning over the chair looking at the mechanics of the vehicle. John was almost falling out of his own wheelchair.

  There was diversity galore in this room. She hated to even think what Neil would say if he was here.

  Tipping back her glass she let the champagne roll over her tongue, and she mashed the berries with her tongue, then swallowed. When she glanced up, Jackson’s gaze was on her mouth, and there was a heat in his blue eyes that burned.

  Emily set the glass on the table with a snap and turned to Kane. “Let’s dance,” she said, holding out her hand.

  Quicker than a snake Jackson took that hand and pulled her up out of her chair. “Thought you’d never ask.”

  Emily had a moment to see Kane’s glowering expression before Jackson tugged her through the crowd. “That was rude,” she snapped.

  “No, it wasn’t. You haven’t seen rude.”

  Then they were at the dance floor and he was pulling her into his arms.

  Emily could have wept at the feeling of her body against Jackson’s again. She slammed her eyes shut and fought to control her breathing as he led them into a slow dance.

  When they’d been together years ago, he’d refused to dance with her, saying it wasn’t a manly thing to do. Over the course of their short, volatile relationship, though, she’d taught him. It was obvious he remembered everything.

  “This brings back memories,” he rumbled. “Why won’t you look at me, Emily?”

  Hardening her heart, she opened her eyes. Jackson’s jaw was above her head, his beautiful, bronze Native skin millimeters from her own. His skin had fascinated her, because it was so beautiful. It had taken him a long time to believe her because it had been a source of ridicule all his life. As had his deep blue eyes. His thick black hair was drawn back into a low tail tonight, not in his normal braid, and she curled her fingers into her fist. There was no touching tonight. No more than they had to for this dance, then she was going back to her table.

  Jackson’s hand tightened on her side as he guided her across the floor, and occasionally his hips bumped into her own. Emily thought it was an accident at first, but he did it several more times. “Stop it, Jackson,” she snapped.

  He chuckled, breath puffing against her ear as he pulled her closer, her breasts against the iron wall of his chest. “We used to be so good together, Emily.”

  Yes, they had. She would admit that. But it was years in the past. She’d moved on with her life and career. No matter how good he felt, she had other obligations.

  He rubbed against her again and she realized that it wasn’t his hip. “Jackson,” she breathed in warning.

  But he tilted his head sideways, blocking them from other people’s gazes with his black hat. “Yes, Emily,” he breathed into her ear.

  A shiver coursed through her and she could have cursed. She wasn’t supposed to show any reaction to him, but the touch felt so good. It had been so long ago. Both of his hands gripped her hips, and there was no denying what was between them now, pushing her back. Emily had a moment to wonder where he was guiding her to before a door opened
behind her and they slipped through.

  Emily hadn’t even known this door was here. Glancing around, she saw they were in the stall area of the barn. It was dimly lit, horses moving softly in the stalls. “We can’t…”

  That was all she got out before his mouth took her own.

  Emily should have known this was coming. Jackson did not give up easily and her being with another man just didn’t jive with his possession issues. Though she’d been gone years, he still considered her his.

  Moaning, she tried to pull away, but he angled his head again, sweeping his tongue into her mouth. Oh god, he tasted sublime. For the barest moment, she allowed herself to enjoy the kiss.

  Then one of his hands glided down her back to cup her ass, pulling her tight against his erection. Arousal flooded through her, making her slick with want. Emily dug her fingers into his shirt, not sure if she was pushing or pulling away. Neither. Both.

  She couldn’t do this. This wasn’t part of the plan. Straightening her arms, she pushed at his chest. Slowly, he pulled his mouth away, but he was grinning.

  “You might be able to fool everyone else, Emily, but you can’t fool me. If I slid a finger inside you right now you would be wet and throbbing, and I could make you come in seconds.”

  Fuck, he was right. She was throbbing. Aching. Trying desperately to remember why this was a bad idea.

  Oh, yes. Neil.

  “I’m engaged to be married, Jackson.”

  His white teeth gleamed in the darkness. “Not for long.”

  Turning, he walked past the stalls and out of the barn, leaving her burning.

  Trying the Knot is Available for Preorder!

  About the Author

  NY Times and USA Today Bestselling author J.M. Madden writes compelling romances between 'combat modified' military men and the women who love them. J.M. Madden loves any and all good love stories, most particularly her own. She has two beautiful children and a husband who always keeps her on her toes.