Kansas Flame [Kansas Heat 3] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting)

by Jenny Penn

  “Never mind.” Lindsay tried to wave away the embarrassing moment. “It’s none of my business. I’m just glad to meet my neighbors and sorry I can’t offer you any coffee but—”

  “Sure you can,” Cooper cut her off a second time. “Elton always kept some on hand.”

  “Some what?” Lindsay blinked, confused by his assurance.

  “Coffee,” Cooper repeated.

  “Coffee.” She blinked again and glanced up at the cabin behind Cooper. “You mean…go in there?”

  “Yeah,” Cooper drew the word out nice and slow, leaving no doubt of what he thought of her intelligence.

  “Do you know what it smells like in there?” Because the stink was one of the reasons she’d chosen to sleep in the Porsche.

  “Like everything else on the ranch—foul,” Cooper informed her. “But don’t worry, you get used to it.”

  “But I don’t want to.” Lindsay didn’t believe she’d have to either. “Trust me once I get the place cleaned up—”

  “That could take a lifetime,” Cooper retorted, sounding horrified by the very idea. “We can’t wait that long for a cup of coffee.”

  “Yes, well, I—”

  “—am embarrassed,” Cooper finished for her, but that wasn’t what she was going to say. He didn’t seem to care. “Don’t worry about it, lil’ bit. We’re used to both the stink and the mess. It won’t bother us.”

  But it bothered her and so did his habit of interrupting her every time she tried to speak. Lindsay suspected it was intentional, some kind of dominance thing. Perhaps it was just a need to control, which the man did appear to suffer from.

  “I tell you what, lil’ bit. You just relax and I’ll make the coffee. Okay?” Cooper didn’t wait for her agreement before turning and heading for the cabin as if the matter were already settled.

  “There’s no electricity,” Lindsay called out, not that the warning had any effect on Cooper.

  “Don’t need any.” Cooper paused with his palm on the door handle to cast a pointed look over his shoulder. “Are you coming?”

  With that he shoved the door open and walked into her cabin like he owned it. Lindsay stared after him, amazed at how quickly she’d lost control of the situation. Her astonishment grew as the rest of the men followed Cooper, heading in and taking over her cabin as if her permission were totally irrelevant.

  “He really knows how to make an exit, doesn’t he?” Nick commented as he stepped up beside Lindsay. He cast her a quick smile as he corrected himself. “Though I guess this time it was an entrance.”

  “I’d have said it was just a bad case of bossiness.”

  “Well, that is actually what they call him—the boss,” Nick retorted, sounding sincere for the first time that morning. “Most people don’t mind, especially not the ones who need help.”

  “That’s nice, but I don’t need help.” Lindsay wouldn’t accept any. It always came with too many strings.

  “I wouldn’t be so certain about that.” Nick threw an arm over her shoulder in a gesture that was way too familiar for how little they knew each other.

  Lindsay found that she didn’t have the will to object though. Engulfed in his deliciously wild scent, it took all her concentration not to trip over her own feet as he started guiding her to the porch’s front steps.

  “Do you even know how to turn on the electricity?”

  “I think I can manage to call the electric company.” It was actually on her list of things to do that morning. That is right after she got rid of her uninvited guests.

  “That’s good thinking,” Nick assured her. “But it won’t get you very far. The house runs on a generator.”

  Lindsay had noticed the generator but assumed Elton had kept it as a backup. Apparently she’d been wrong. Not that it mattered. However Elton had run his house, it was time to step into the twenty-first century and get a power line run out to the property.

  “Oh, and don’t bother calling to get that rusted tank out back filled up with gas. Not only will it leak but it’s not hooked up to anything,” Nick warned her.

  “It’s not?” Lindsay scowled. “Then what the hell does the generator run on? Gasoline?”

  “Grease.”

  Nick dropped that bombshell right at the foot of the porch steps, leaving Lindsay rooted in her spot as he started up the warped planks of wood. She just stared after him, waiting for the punch line, but none came.

  “It runs off what?”

  Chapter 2

  Lindsay tried to wrap her head around the idea that her house ran on grease. Apparently she had to go down to someplace called the Pitchfork and barter with a bar manager named Candy Anne Brown to get fuel for her generator. It felt like she’d fallen into some rabbit hole and woken up in a twilight zone, a very stinky twilight zone.

  Last night when she’d arrived, Lindsay peeked into the cabin only to come away with one single impression. There was some serious funk growing somewhere inside. The darkness had shielded the source but the bright light of day highlighted the problem.

  From the stained walls to the floorboards darkened with mold and mildew, it didn’t appear like her grandfather had been all that into housework. Elton was gone now and soon so would be his filth. Everything that could be scrubbed clean would have to be, and what couldn’t would be replaced. Looking around, Lindsay figured she’d be replacing almost everything—starting with the kitchen.

  Amazingly even more disgusting than the rest of the cabin, the small galley tucked in the back corner of the house did not look functional. Lindsay followed Nick to where the men had congregated around a laminate counter. She couldn’t help but note that it didn’t appear to be attached to the cabinets it rested on. The cabinets themselves were far from level, having warped long ago.

  “Not getting cold feet already are you?” Nick asked as if sensing Lindsay’s sudden trepidation.

  “Of course not,” Lindsay assured him with false cheer. “I’m just imaging what it’s going to look like when I’m done.”

  Tilting her chin up with that bit of forced confidence, Lindsay moved into the kitchen. Whatever the future held for her, it started with taking control of the cowboy helping himself to her cupboards. This was her home. These were her guests. They wanted coffee and she would serve it to them.

  Explaining that fact to Cooper, though, presented some challenges. The first of which was to get him to notice her. Absorbed in his task, he didn’t even spare her a glance as he carried a blackened pot toward the sink. Without a word, he stepped right around her when she tried to block his path. Not about to be ignored, Lindsay reached out and latched onto the metal kettle.

  “Thank you. I can manage from here.” Lindsay prided herself on the fact that her voice didn’t waver. Her hands, though, did as Cooper’s chin dipped, lowering his gaze until it settled on her with an intensity that scorched her cheeks.

  “I don’t mind.”

  A warning lay hidden in the dark recesses of his husky tone, one that both thrilled and unnerved her. Lindsay refused to allow either emotion to sway her.

  “Well, I do. This is my house and it really isn’t hospitable to let a guest do all the work.”

  “Then don’t think of me like a guest.”

  Cooper jerked on the pot, but Lindsay refused to let go. Snickers pelted the air behind her as they waged a silent battle for control of the odd-looking coffeepot. She managed to win the spontaneous tug-of-war, a fact that only increased the chuckles being smothered over by the counter. The men didn’t do a good enough job.

  “Give me back the pot,” Cooper demanded. From the flare of his nostrils to the narrowing of his eyes, he looked pissed, but Lindsay wouldn’t be cowed by his glare.

  “Get out of my way,” Lindsay shot back, matching the demand in his voice with her own belligerent tone.

  It wouldn’t have shocked her to learn that not many people had ever stood up Cooper. It certainly wouldn’t have been a surprise to find out no woman ever had. The man did
a good impersonation of mean. Unfortunately for Cooper, Lindsay knew all about assholes.

  As much as he tried to pretend like he was one, Cooper didn’t have the meanness in him. Balled into fists, his hands remained planted on his hips, his stance relaxed enough to assure Lindsay he wasn’t even thinking about using them.

  Then a second later they unfurled. Just like that his scowl faded away. Like a midday storm that disappeared into the bright afternoon sunlight, Cooper’s anger evaporated.

  “You really want to pick a battle over who makes the coffee?” Slow, patient, entirely too reasonable, the cool amusement in Cooper’s tone warned Lindsay that a trap lay ahead. She tried to avoid it by turning his question back on him.

  “Do you?”

  “Fine then.” Cooper stepped aside as he gestured to the sink. “Be my guest.”

  Lindsay smiled, trying very hard not to let her nerves show as she stepped past him. He was too happy. Something horrible or horribly embarrassing was about to happen. She could just sense it. It didn’t take long to figure out what had Cooper smirking.

  Never having actually made coffee before, Lindsay hadn’t figured it would be too hard. She watched TV. She knew most people made theirs using an electric machine that had on/off switch. Of course she didn’t have any electricity and the pot Cooper had relinquished didn’t have a plug.

  It was actually a kettle that had some kind of basket that could be suspended in it, but how it all went together was a mystery to her. Not that she really wanted to drink anything that came out of it. Lindsay nose wrinkled as she stared down into the blackened container and wonder how long it had been since the thing had been clean.

  A glance around the sink and counter alerted Lindsay to the fact that Elton hadn’t cared to keep soap or any kind of brush on hand. She could have been charitable and assumed somebody else had come along and stolen Elton’s detergent but the rest of the house spoke for itself. Obviously when she went into town to beg for some grease, Lindsay would have to pick up some cleaning supplies as well.

  Until then a soak in hot water would have to suffice. Lindsay turned the tap and then scowled when nothing happened. She didn’t know why she expected it to. Elton’s cabin used a well. Despite Cooper’s godlike confidence complex, wells required electricity to run their pumps.

  Of course Lindsay didn’t believe that Cooper had wasted his time by pretending to make coffee when he knew he couldn’t. There had to be a trick, something she wasn’t getting. She bet the answer started with the bucket sitting on the counter.

  Instinctively she knew Cooper had put it there and it didn’t take her more than a moment to figure out the obvious. There was a hand pump, probably an old one, somewhere on the property. He’d been intending to fetch water the old-fashion way. He probably didn’t think she’d figure that part out, which explained his smirk.

  Picking up the bucket, she turned her nose up and sauntered out the back door, honestly believing she’d taught the arrogant cowboy a thing or two about underestimating her. Ten minutes later as she carried the bucket back in with her arms aching, her back hunched, and sweat trickling down her face, Lindsay was willing to allow that they’d both learned a lesson. He’d learned she didn’t quit and she’d learned that he liked to gloat.

  Cooper smiled at Lindsay as she shuffled on past him, settling into place behind her to lean over her shoulder and watch her fumble with the coffeepot. She might have stood a chance at figuring it out if she hadn’t been half drunk on warm, leathery scent. It surrounded her just like his hard body. The subtle press of his muscles against her side combined with that intoxicating heat left her light-headed and fighting the instinctive lure to melt back into his strength, to be sheltered by it, protected by it.

  “What are you doing, lil’ bit?” There was something deep and intimate about the soft way that endearment rolled off Cooper’s tongue. The husky sound licked over her, making her breath catch as he leaned in even closer. “Do you even know how this goes together?”

  The amusement in his tone had her snapping back to reality as it dawned on Lindsay that Cooper was laughing at her. Stiffening up her spine, she shot him a dirty look. “I’m figuring it out.”

  “Yeah, well, we haven’t got all day for you to learn how to make coffee.” Cooper informed her with in all seriousness as he reached around to snatch the pot out of her hands before she could stop him.

  “Fine. Whatever.” Lindsay held her hands up in defeat, secretly grateful to be off the hook. “You’re in such a rush. You make it.”

  “Be happy to.” Cooper flashed her a grin. “After all, who am I to argue with a woman?”

  Lindsay snorted at that question, not about to be charmed by the double dimples that transformed his expression from forbidding to almost relaxed. The man had sent her outside to get an early morning workout trying to get the old, rusted water pump to work.

  “Well.” Lindsay billowed that word out with forced sigh as she settled back to watch Cooper work. He really did make making coffee look sexy. “Mr. Cooper, you mentioned something about a business deal?”

  “And something about calling me mister,” Cooper reminded her, as he pulled a pack of matches out of one of the rickety looking cupboards.

  “And something about not having a lot of time. Do you really want to argue over a name?” Lindsay asked, arching a brow.

  “I guess not. Time is of the essence so I will spare you the long, boring story and come straight to the point.” Cooper struck a match and turned the dial on the stove, allowing the one flame to burst into many before he shook the match out and turned to give her his undivided attention. “We need access to the springs in your eastern pasture.”

  “I see. That was direct.” It was also unexpected. Lindsay didn’t know exactly what to say, but Cooper clearly expected her to come up with something. “I guess I’m going to need some time to think things over.”

  “Time?” Cooper repeated, blinking at her as if she spoke some foreign language. “I’m afraid that’s not something we have a lot of to offer.”

  “Excuse me?” It was Lindsay’s turn to blink, amazed once again at the man’s audacity.

  “We need access to that water for the herds. They need to drink,” Cooper pointed out patiently as if that explained it all. Apparently it did to him because he didn’t have anything more to say, leaving Lindsay to gape up at him in astonishment.

  “Surely you didn’t expect me to give you an answer this morning? Only a fool would agree to something like what you’re suggesting without considering all the options. You know, I might have need for that water.”

  “Why would you need it? You’re not a rancher,” Cooper scoffed, apparently unaware of how arrogant he sounded.

  “I can think all sorts of things I might need it for but that’s not the point.”

  “You don’t understand. Elton always allowed us access.”

  “Then why not just buy the land off of him?”

  “All Elton had left of his family was this land.” Arms crossed over his chest, Cooper again resorted to trying to glare her into the ground as he lectured her like some errant child. “You don’t take that from a man.”

  “Yeah, I bet.” Lindsay wasn’t impressed by Cooper’s logic or his frown. “Leaving my grandfather to live like this was for his own good then? Because clearly Elton didn’t need the money, right?”

  The second the words left her lips, Lindsay knew she’d hit a nerve—the one in Cooper’s right cheek. He clenched his jaw so tight his muscles twitched under the strain. That small sign of his self-imposed control fascinated Lindsay, and she couldn’t help but wonder just how hard she’d have to push before he snapped.

  “We gave Elton all he would accept,” Cooper bit out, appearing to grow taller with each word. “Then again we weren’t his blood kin.”

  Lindsay flinched at that insult, and it was one. Elton hadn’t considered her kin. He’d made that clear, refusing to have any contact with her right up to the day he died.
Now he was gone and she was alone…or not.

  “Watch yourself, Cooper.” Stepping into the middle of their argument, Nick surprised her with a sudden defense.

  She recovered quickly as she watched the two brothers eye each other. Lindsay was familiar enough with violence to recognize when it started to thicken in the air. The last thing she wanted was to be the woman who pitted two brothers against each other.

  “It’s okay.” Offering Nick a smile of gratitude, Lindsay stepped between him and Cooper. “He’s not wrong. I would have taken care of Elton, he had let me. You, Mr. Cooper, on the other hand, didn’t want to pay an old man fair market value on his land. Instead you used it, waiting for him to die so you could pick it up cheap.”

  “I think you better be very, very careful about what kind of accusations you make, Miss Bryne,” Cooper warned her, his soft tone carrying a lethal edge but it was his words that cut deep.

  Carl Bryne had married her mother and given Lindsay his name, and she hated him for it. Now that the blood tests proved that Elton Howell was her grandfather and thus his son her father, Lindsay not only had legal rights to Elton’s property, she had a right to his name too.

  “It’s Howell, Mr. Cooper,” Lindsay informed him. “Lindsay Howell.”

  * * * *

  Cooper stared down at Lindsay and wondered what the hell he was doing, other than making an ass out of himself. He’d threatened a woman. The only excuse he had was that the girl had him completely twisted in knots. From the moment she’d looked up at him with those big honey eyes and he’d started babbling on about his name, Cooper had been lost.

  Lost and hard. He had twelve inches of painfully swollen dick that was driving him to complete distraction and making it almost completely impossible to act normal. If the woman didn’t watch it she might find herself bent over and mounted right there in her kitchen in front of all their neighbors. That idea brought a grin to his lips.

  Cooper would devour that little cunt until it creamed so hard she screamed for mercy. That’s when he’d fuck her. He’d take her for a rough ride, forcing her to come so many times the woman blacked out with the pleasure. When she woke, he’d be there hard and ready for round two.