Redneck Romeo (Rough Riders)

by Lorelei James

  Rory kissed her mom’s cheeks. “Go on. We’ll be up in a minute.” As soon as her mother was out of earshot, Rory murmured, “I cannot believe she’s hosting the wedding reception at her house. I know it’s just a family reception, but that means all those McKays. And all their kids.”

  “Hey, you’re one of them too now, Mrs. McKay.”

  Tell and Georgia’s little girl, Carly, started to fuss. As Dalton’s first niece she was the official flower girl even when she didn’t do anything but look cute as a button in her beribboned dress. Tucker had done better than expected as ring bearer, but he’d lit out for the creek with Landon, Wyatt and Jackson as soon as possible.

  Brandt and Jessie’s baby girl, Bethany, let out a loud wail.

  “I think we’ll grab the kids and head up to the house too,” Brandt said and yelled for the boys.

  Dalton’s mom gave him another hug. “I’ll ride up with the judge.”

  “Well I’m not staying here by myself to watch the newlyweds suck face,” Sierra announced. Yanking up the skirt of her bridesmaid’s dress, she whistled for Jingle and shouted, “Hey Dad, wait up.”

  And then they were alone.

  Dalton faced Rory with a grin. “You know, we could…”

  “Absolutely not, Dalton McKay. I am not having sex with you on that rock… Omigod please, stop doing that. Right now. Seriously…”

  “In a minute,” he murmured against her throat.

  Rory grabbed a handful of his hair and yanked so they were looking at each other. “Save it for the honeymoon.”

  “You mean tonight, right? And not waiting to have my wicked way with my wife until we’re in Spain?” Having Rory to himself for two weeks in Europe was gonna be some fun.

  “Of course I mean tonight. You do have a room reserved for us someplace?”

  “Don’t need reservations in the great outdoors.”

  “You are not expecting me to spend my freakin’ wedding night in a sleeping bag out in the woods, are you?”

  He laughed. “Nope. You get enough of the great outdoors in your job.” Their transition to living together in a new state, as a couple, had gone much smoother than they’d imagined. They’d bought a house, a small fixer-upper to give him something to do. He’d found a logging company that needed part-time seasonal help and he planned to serve as a hunting guide in the fall for Boden. But for the most part, he was content being in their home, taking care of Rory, supporting her in the career she loved.

  She swept his hair from his forehead. “I love you. Promise me we won’t get separated for too long at the reception?”

  “I promise.” Then he kissed her. The kiss caught fire, like it always did between them. His mouth wandered, as did his hands. He’d just about had her talked into a quickie, when he heard motors gunning behind them and a series of annoying beeps.

  Dalton stepped in front of Rory so she could straighten the top of her dress.

  Kyler pulled into view in a side by side ATV that’d been decorated with white streamers and graffiti and had tin cans tied to the back end. A big sign said, Just Hitched.

  More loud beeps sounded and he saw Sierra riding another ATV. She pulled in behind Kyler.

  “Please tell me she’s not wearing her bridesmaid’s dress on that muddy ATV.”

  Sierra waved at them with the bottle of champagne and yelled, “Wahoo! We started the party without you, suckas.”

  “And…she’s drinking.”

  Dalton laughed.

  Kyler bounded over. “Your wedding party got back to the house and realized they hadn’t left you a way to get back.” He tossed Dalton the keys and pointed to the ATV. “Your chariot awaits.”

  “Thanks Ky. Could you—”

  “Drive Sierra back to the house? I’d planned on it.” He propped his hands on his hips. “Not sure an open bar was the best choice for the reception. Anyway, I’ll keep an eye on her tonight.”

  “Thanks, I appreciate it,” Rory said.

  “Don’t mention it. Seriously. Don’t say nothin’ to my parents.” He frowned. “If they think I’m havin’ any kind of fun they’ll make me stay with the little kids.”

  Kyler looked at Sierra when she honked the horn ten times in a row and yelled, “Come on, little cuz. Time’s a wastin’ to get wasted!”

  Kyler looked back at Dalton and Rory and grinned. “Hey, someone’s gotta teach me how to be a wild McKay now that the last single man’s been married off.”

  They watched as he climbed in the driver’s seat. At the top of the hill he spun the tires and threw mud everywhere as Sierra loudly egged him on.

  “You know, this is really starting to seem like an episode of My Big Fat Redneck Wedding,” Rory said.

  Dalton laughed. “Then I guess that makes me…your Redneck Romeo, huh, jungle girl?” He swooped her into his arms and carried her to the four-wheeler, the happiest man in the world.

  About the Author

  Lorelei James is the New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of contemporary erotic western romances set in the modern day Wild West and also contemporary erotic romances. Lorelei’s books have been nominated for and won the RT Book Reviews Reviewer’s Choice Award as well as the CAPA Award. Lorelei lives in western South Dakota with her family…and a whole closet full of cowgirl boots.

  Connect with Lorelei James:

  on Facebook: www.facebook.com/LoreleiJamesAuthor

  on Twitter: @loreleijames

  email: lorelei@loreleijames.com

  website: www.loreleijames.com

  Look for these titles by Lorelei James

  Now Available:

  Rough Riders

  Long Hard Ride

  Rode Hard, Put Up Wet

  Cowgirl Up and Ride

  Tied Up, Tied Down

  Rough, Raw, and Ready

  Branded As Trouble

  Shoulda Been A Cowboy

  All Jacked Up

  Raising Kane

  Slow Ride

  Cowgirls Don’t Cry

  Chasin’ Eight

  Cowboy Casanova

  Kissin’ Tell

  Gone Country

  Wild West Boys

  Mistress Christmas

  Miss Firecracker

  Anthologies

  Wild Ride: Strong, Silent Type

  Three’s Company: Wicked Garden

  Beginnings: Babe in the Woods

  Running With the Devil

  Dirty Deeds

  Coming Soon:

  Doctor Feelgood

  She’s a little bit country, and he’s…not.

  Gone Country

  © 2012 Lorelei James

  Rough Riders, Book 14

  Arizona businessman and long-lost McKay love child Gavin Daniels has been awarded sole custody of his teenage daughter Sierra for one year. In order to steer Sierra back on track after a brush with the law, he pulls up stakes and heads to Wyoming, looking for support from his ranching family…even if he isn’t sure where they fit in the McKay dynamic. He’s prepared for every contingency with the move: the less-than-enthusiastic response from his daughter, learning to run his corporation remotely, but he’s thrown for a loop when his new housemate, Rielle, is a whole lot sexier, funnier and sassier than he remembered.

  Rielle Wetzler has finally overcome the stigma of having hippie parents and being a young single mother. In the two years since she sold her ailing B&B to Gavin Daniels, she’s become financially stable running the homespun businesses she loves. But now Gavin is in Sundance to claim the house that’s rightfully his. Although Rielle knew this day would come, she isn’t prepared to leave the home she built for herself and her now-grown daughter. And to further complicate matters, her long-dormant libido is definitely not ready to live with this newly buff Gavin—who isn’t a cowboy, but has the take-charge attitude to prove he’s all McKay.

  Sharing a roof, their troubles and their triumphs is too much temptation, and before long, Gavin and Rielle are sharing a bed. But sharing their hearts and liv
es forever? That’s a whole ’nother ball of wax.

  Warning: Contains a feisty, independent heroine who doesn’t need a man to take care of her needs outside the bedroom and a sweet, sexy and bossy hero who’s up to the challenge of proving her wrong.

  Enjoy the following excerpt for Gone Country:

  “Rielle?”

  She pivoted in the dirt and faced Gavin. “Are you lost?”

  “No. Just exploring.” He sighed dramatically. “I’m lonely.”

  “Right. You’re bored.”

  His low, throaty laugh was seductive. “That too. I followed the road that winds around the gardens and it ended abruptly.”

  “It ends to deter explorers.”

  “You are hilarious. So what are you ripping out, plowing up, or chopping down today?”

  Rielle peeled off her gloves and set them on top of the fence before she left the fenced garden. “I’m about to check my fruit trees to see how close I am to harvest.”

  “Then you what? Pick them, load them and haul them to a farmer’s market?”

  “Some gets sold locally, but the bulk goes to restaurants across the country.”

  “There’s a market for it outside of Wyoming?”

  “A much bigger market.”

  Gavin fell in step with her as she headed toward the grove of trees at the bottom of a small hill.

  Rielle gestured to the orchard. “These are considered old fruit trees. They’d been here thirty years when my parents bought the place thirty years ago. So they’re sixty-year-old trees that’ve never been treated with pesticide. That’s incredibly rare.”

  “So you just leave them be and let nature take her course?”

  “I prune and water and use natural pest repellents. It usually works. But one year the trees were infested with some weird bug and had zero yield. I figured all the trees were done for because…”

  “You couldn’t spray them.”

  “Exactly. The next year, the trees came back stronger than ever, no bugs. I chalked it up to nature knowing what the trees needed better than I did.”

  He walked alongside her. “I am a clueless urbanite when it comes to trees—with the exception of recognizing orange and grapefruit trees.”

  “I think it would be cool to walk into your backyard and pick a grapefruit for breakfast.” She touched a branch of the closest tree. “This is a pine sweet apple.”

  “Never heard of that variety.” His eyes lit up. “Ah, this is the tree that lays the golden apples.”

  She laughed. “Yep. I have two of these. Next in line are mountain pear trees, again a rarity. These two are the fussiest of all the trees; I never count on any kind of yield.”

  “But when it does bear fruit?”

  “I get five bucks apiece for them. They’re so tiny, yet have such robust flavor. One chef in Chicago has a standing order to buy the entire crop. He’s anxiously awaiting shipment because it’s been two years since these suckers have bloomed.”

  Gavin whistled.

  “The next two trees are golden apricot. I sell the fruit to locals or find some use for it in my own cooking and canning. After those are the plum trees. The variety is sweet water pink, another rarity. The skin is such a deep purple it’s almost black, but the flesh is a very pale pink. The fruit doesn’t get big, and it tastes like a cross between a blueberry and a strawberry.”

  “What’s the going rate for a sweet water pink plum?”

  “Six bucks apiece.”

  “Do you sell them around here?”

  She shook her head. “Wyomingites won’t spend that on a beer, let alone on a tiny piece of fruit. There’s a Japanese fusion restaurant in San Francisco that takes the whole lot every year. My understanding is the chef slices a single fruit and plates it with single curls of white, dark and milk chocolate and charges twenty-five bucks for it.”

  They kept walking and she began to feel self-conscious, blathering on about trees. “You sure you’re interested in this? Or are you just being polite?”

  He stopped and grabbed her hand. “I’m very interested.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I’ve never known anyone who makes a living off the land the way you do. I mean, yes, the McKays do, but in a different way. I’ve watched you nurturing your garden, slaving to harvest, exhausted but exhilarated. It’s something to behold. I don’t think I could do it year in, year out, being at the whim of nature and the weather.”

  Rielle stood close enough to him to let his eyes draw her in. That vivid blue, the same blue all the McKays had, but his eyes seemed…brighter somehow. Truer. Something about Gavin said trust me. This was the first time she’d ever had that gut reaction. Because she didn’t trust easily, that made her attraction to him all the more acute.

  “I like seeing you this way,” he said in his rough and compelling voice.

  “How’s that?”

  “In your element.”

  “Meaning covered in dirt?”

  “You being dirty suits me just fine, Rielle.”

  Oh. My. God. Had he really meant it that way? Yes, if the heat in his eyes was a sign.

  “I don’t even know what to say to that, Gavin.”

  He just smiled. He dropped her hand and pointed to the last two trees. “What about those? Magic Mediterranean figs that taste like ambrosia and earn you a hundred bucks a pop?”

  In that moment the sexual tension vanished and everything went back to normal between them. She was glad for it, even when she had a pang of regret for being tongue-tied when he always came up with such sexy off-the-cuff comments. “Those are just plain old red delicious apples.”

  “But from sixty-year-old trees.”

  “Yep. I don’t sell many of those. I sacrifice them to the deer, hoping they’ll gorge themselves on these first two trees and leave my other trees the hell alone.”

  “Logical. But I see you’ve erected some netting as extra insurance.”

  “That’s mostly to keep the birds away. That’s also why I’ve let the chokecherry bushes get overgrown. It’s a natural deterrent and a critter barrier.” She ducked under the netting and beckoned to him. “Come into my secret garden, tycoon.”

  A smiling Gavin followed her without question.

  At the base of the plum tree, she pointed to a branch directly above his head. “I can’t reach that high, so I want you to pick that plum closest to the trunk.”

  “Seriously? You’re letting me try a six dollar piece of fruit?” His eyes took on a strange twinkle. “I’ll warn you, I don’t have any bills smaller than a twenty on me.”

  “I oughta charge you double for that crack. Go on. Pick it.”

  Curling his fingers around it, he tugged and promptly handed the fruit to her as if it was a bomb. “It’s so small. And warm.”

  “That’s what makes it so luscious.” Rielle held the fruit between her thumb and forefinger. “I’ll take the first bite so you can see how juicy and tender the pink flesh is.” Keeping her eyes on his, she brought it to her mouth, using the very edges of her teeth to sink down through the skin. The instant the sweet juice hit her tongue she closed her eyes and moaned. Normally she limited herself to the damaged or near rotten fruit, not the perfect ones such as this.

  When Rielle opened her eyes, Gavin was right there. He couldn’t tear his gaze away from her mouth. Her voice dropped to a sultry whisper. “See how the juice coats the pink flesh when it’s soft and warm?”

  “Goddamn, I want a taste,” he said, his voice a deep rasp. “A full taste.”

  “Of this fruit?”

  His hot blue gaze locked to hers, broadcasting that he wasn’t thinking about the plum. “Oh, I’d take a full taste of that too.” Holding her hand in place, he bent forward and sucked the other half from her fingers. “Mmm.” After he removed the pit from his mouth, he nipped her fingertips. “I’m thinking I need another taste.”

  “Gavin.”

  “You know what I want to do right now? Lick every bit of juice off your lips. The
n I want to suck it off your tongue. So when I kiss you the first time? I’ll know the sweetness and heat is all you.”

  Her mouth had gone desert dry, but she eked out a soft, “Do it.”

  The best type of growing up involves getting down and dirty.

  Rocky Mountain Rebel

  © 2013 Vivian Arend

  Six Pack Ranch, Book 5

  Vicki Hansol made different choices than her less-than-reputable mom and sister, yet her fiery temper has left her branded with the same town-bad-girl label. When she desperately needs a change of scenery, her get-out-of-town-free ticket arrives—and requires she face down one of her deepest fears.

  Easygoing Joel Coleman has nothing to complain about, but he’s never really done anything to brag about either. The youngest member of the Six Pack Ranch is looking to make some changes in his life that include stepping out from under his twin brother’s shadow.

  So when the bold beauty with the smart mouth approaches him with a proposition, Joel is intrigued. Her request for him to teach her to ride soon takes on a whole new meaning. All that passion in his arms, his bed, in the barn…hell, anywhere he can get it? Bring it on.

  But tangling the sheets leads to unanticipated complications, and by the time the dust settles, everything family means is going to be challenged.

  Warning: Saddle up for some youthful vigor applied with great enthusiasm. Ropes, rails and raunchy sex—there’s more places to get dirty around the ranch than first meets the eye.

  Enjoy the following excerpt for Rocky Mountain Rebel:

  No, she wouldn’t play the blame game. No matter how she’d been treated while growing up, no matter what her family’s reputation, she was an adult and responsible for her own actions.

  Right now? There was no one to blame for being unemployed but herself. She’d love to say it was Eric’s fault, but he wasn’t the one who’d moved his fat head into her fists.

  She shouldered her backpack and headed down the alley, thankful he hadn’t pressed assault charges. He could have, and it would have been nothing more than another round of he said, she said… The town bad girl acting out against the star valedictorian.

  Another round with another loss for her.

  The end of the alley was mere steps away, the sunshine on the sidewalk her goal, when someone stepped around the corner and she jerked to a stop.