And where Brett’s mother was concerned. Until recently. Thank God.
He and his brother were quite tired of the affectionate looks the two had shared but never did anything about over the past few years. It had been obvious his mother and Terry liked each other, yet some misguided loyalty to his late father no doubt prevented them from acting on their attraction. Bill Brennan and Terry Hawkins had been best friends since high school. Not only was Terry an exceptional foreman, he was also like a surrogate father to him and Finn ever since their dad had died in the Gulf War more than twenty years ago. It was damn good to see both Terry and his mother so happy. They deserved it.
“It’s a pleasure to meet Brett’s future in-laws.” His foreman grinned broadly and released the man’s hand before he dropped an arm back around his mother’s shoulders and tugged her close.
Kind of mimicking how Brett now stood with the corporal.
“Why thank you, sir.” Mr. Jennings nodded. “We’re looking forward to coming up for a visit in a couple weeks. Maybe you could show me around.”
“Absolutely,” Terry replied.
A visit? Nice touch, Brett thought, then noticed Gus behind the bar, his lips twitching into a grin under a handlebar mustache.
Bloody bartender was in on it, too? Finn and Cammie sure went through a lot of trouble. He held back his own grin. Far be it for him to keep the older cohort out of the limelight.
Pointing to the merry man, Brett nodded. “Mr. and Mrs. Jennings, this here is Gus Rankin, the owner of this establishment.”
Gus stopped wiping the bar and turned his attention to the couple. “Welcome to the Lonesome Steer. Can I offer you some fresh beef barley Cammie made this morning?”
“Oh, that sounds wonderful,” his mother exclaimed.
Mrs. Jennings nodded, glancing toward the kitchen. “Is Cammie still here? It would be so nice to see her again.”
“No. I’m sorry, ma’am.” Gus shook his head, gaze apologetic. “You just missed her.”
Yeah, right. Brett barely contained a snort. She was no doubt laughing her ass off in the kitchen with his dead-meat brother.
“Make it soups all around. My treat,” Terry offered, placing two extra chairs around one of the tables.
Apparently, the prank involved lunch.
Good, he was hungry and didn’t have anything pressing to attend. He drew a chair back for the corporal and waited until she was seated before he took the one on her left. Sundays were free days at Royal Pines. Tuesday, a fresh round of guests would arrive and he’d jump, boots first, into running the ranch again.
Something he’d looked forward to for several long months.
“So, tell me, Brett,” the former D.A. began as everyone settled into their seats. “What are your plans now that you’re back?”
Ah, the What are your future plans, and how are you going to take care of my little girl? interrogation. Boy, they were really taking the prank to the limit. He cocked his head, completely up for the challenge.
“Well, sir, I’m going to do what I’ve always done.” He reached next to him for his fiancée’s hand, surprised to find her fingers so cold. “I’m going to run the ranch,” he stated, while rubbing the woman’s fingers until warmth returned.
Mr. Jennings raised a brow. “I thought Finn ran things.”
Brett laughed. Given a choice, his brother would rather run his former SEAL team.
Unlike him, Finn had always planned to be career military. War, or no war, that had been his brother’s goal. Not Brett. He loved the ranch and everything it entailed. Grooming the horses, leading groups on a two-day hike up the mountain, rappelling off Parson’s Gorge. The ranch, the land—Royal Pines was in his blood.
But he was also a patriot. So, when the towers fell, he didn’t hesitate to enlist and follow in his father’s footsteps by joining the marines.
Brett loved his country and the Corps. He really did. But he’d served four tours. The war was over. Troop strength was being downsized. It was time to come home, and stay home.
And it was time to answer her father’s question.
“No, well, yes. Finn did run things, sir,” he replied. “But that was only while I was gone. We’ll both be running Royal Pines now.”
He hoped.
Besides Cammie, Brett was the only one who knew Finn had a physical scheduled at the Coronado Naval Base in California this week. The idiot had asked him to keep it quiet because Finn wasn’t sure what he was going to do should he pass.
Dumbass.
Brett sure as hell hoped his brother got a clue before that happened. Finn was now officially engaged to the best damn thing ever to come his way. Cammie would support his brother no matter what, even though she’d once loved then lost a Navy SEAL. The last thing Brett wanted was to put his friend in that position again. Had he known his brother’s intent, he never would’ve gotten the two of them together. Probably.
“Ah, I see,” Mr. Jennings told him, but his frown said otherwise.
Gus arrived with their soup and left with their drink orders, but the interruption did little to deter the former D.A.’s questioning.
“So, tell me, Captain,” the man continued. “Are you okay with being away from my daughter while she goes to law school?”
Law school?
He glanced at the redhead next to him. Her cheeks were turning the prettiest shade of pink, deepening the blue of her eyes, until they resembled a Colorado summer sky. He gave himself another mental shake. Cripes. Since when had he turned into Mr. Sentiment?
“I wasn’t aware she was going to law school,” he replied.
It was true. Not once had the corporal mentioned her future plans to him or anyone else in the unit. He knew she had a criminal justice degree, but never heard her talk about furthering her education. She had a knack with the village children overseas. Teaching seemed more fitting than becoming a lawyer.
Slim fingers tightened around his hand before she lifted her chin and held her father’s stare. “I’m not.”
The lines in Mr. Jennings forehead deepened as his eyebrows slammed together. “What? But you’ve been accepted at Stanford for the fall.”
Stanford?
Brett’s gaze returned to the corporal. Wow. Beautiful and smart.
Unless, this conversation was as bogus as their engagement…
“I’ve been accepted at several colleges, Dad. I’m still not sure which one I’ll choose,” she said before dropping her father’s disapproving gaze to concentrate on her soup.
Okay, now they were taking the acting thing a little too far. He could do without the family drama.
Which…was most likely what they were counting on.
Well, it wasn’t going to work. He held back a snicker. Fine. He could play the hand dealt to him.
Placing his spoon down, he squared his shoulders and sent Mr. Jennings a direct look. “I’ll support whatever decision your daughter makes.”
Intent on showing he meant business, he grabbed her hand again and waited until she glanced at him before bringing her fingers to his lips. Those mesmerizing, damn eyes of hers rounded on her indrawn breath, and he took pleasure in knowing he’d managed to turn his usually chatty corporal speechless.
“I just want to make her happy,” he declared, about to go in for the kill. “Maybe Trisha will help me out on the ranch, and we can get started right away on having a family.”
That was the first time he’d called the corporal by her first name. It felt…odd, but in a good way. She turned that pretty shade of pink again, and son of a bitch if he wasn’t drawn in, watching her gaze darken as he continued to brush his lips across her knuckles. Heat smoldered in her eyes, and something inside his chest tightened. She was good. Damn good. He almost believed her desire was real.
“Oh, that would be wonderful, wouldn’t it, Rose?” Mrs. Jennings asked, regaining his attention as she touched his mother’s shoulder, her face alight with joy.
“I…ah…yes,” his mother stamme
red, sending him a happy smile. “I can’t wait for grandkids.”
Well, they sure as hell weren’t going to come from him, at least, not in this decade. But he was more than happy to lay it on thick to usurp their prank.
He smiled broadly at the women and glanced at the men, surprised to see them both smiling. Funny. He’d thought there would’ve been a few protests. Oh well. Whatever. He released the corporal and went back to concentrating on his lunch, letting his mother and Mrs. Jennings turn the conversation to recipes.
Soon, he grew tired of the game. It had gone on long enough. He glanced around the table. Surely, they’d call it quits soon.
“Well,” Mr. Jennings began, setting his spoon down. “We’d better head out if we’re going to make my brother’s by nightfall.”
Finally.
The man’s words awoke Brett’s adrenaline. He rose to his feet with the rest of the table, eager to see how this would all end. He was impressed. They even had an escape planned.
Anticipation increased as he watched the corporal hug her parents.
“Have a safe trip,” she told them, before returning to slip her arm around him.
“We’ll see you both at the ranch in two weeks. Do we need reservations?”
The corporal stiffened at her father’s words. Brett was fascinated. The man was too good.
“No,” he replied. “If the guest ranch and cabins are booked, I’m sure we can put you up in the house.”
His mother nodded. “Yes, that would be lovely.”
Trisha’s eyes widened, and she just stared at him. Unblinking. He had all he could do not to laugh. She looked genuinely shocked. And, he had to admit, quite adorable.
Her father stepped to him, hand outstretched. “Well, Captain, I trust you’ll do right by my daughter.”
Brett released his fiancée to shake her father’s hand. “Of course, sir.”
“Just remember, Colonel Fisher and I are old friends.” The man’s gaze was suddenly as firm as his grip. “He’ll have my daughter’s back.”
Bravo. Another good play.
Brett nodded again, wondering what in the world her parents had to gain by doing this prank? Were they that bored in their lives?
“I can assure you my son will take good care of your daughter, William,” his mother proclaimed, stepping up to pat the man’s arm, giving Brett a reason to break the handshake.
“I’m sure he will, Rose. Trisha has four older Navy brothers to see to that.” Her father cocked his head and smiled. “In fact, I think my oldest boy, Liam, and your son, Finn, have crossed paths.”
This just kept getting better and better. Another spark of admiration shot through his veins. Who had come up with that one?
“Oh?” His mother smiled. “I’ll have to mention him to Finn.”
“You do that. We’ll see you in two weeks,” Mr. Jennings reminded before he and his wife disappeared from the honky tonk.
Brett watched the door for a few seconds, untapped energy zinging through his body as he eagerly waited for the couple to walk back in and reveal the joke. Ten seconds turned into twenty, and still no Mr. and Mrs. Jennings. He turned to the others who had gone mysteriously quiet. His mother, Terry, Gus, even the two cowboys playing pool all wore matching grins, but no one said a word.
Not one damn word.
He glanced at the corporal. She was still staring at him with that surprised expression on her pretty face.
“Thank you, sir,” she finally said, before body slamming him with a tight hug. “I can’t believe you did that for me.”
And he couldn’t believe how his lower body tightened the instant those delectable curves brushed against him again. Fully. And on target.
He detangled himself from her tempting embrace. That was dangerous territory. Major danger. She would always be one of his men. His body had no business craving her curves.
He cleared his throat. “Come on, Corporal,” he said, keeping his tone light. “You know I can take a joke. And you all deserve an Oscar. Well done.”
Terry frowned. “What are you talking about?”
“You know what I’m talking about. Your prank,” he replied, striding to the kitchen door, smile ready on his face. “You can come out now Finn, Cammie. Joke’s over.”
Charging into the kitchen, he was prepared to congratulate the couple on their masterful prank. It was a doozie. A classic. One for the record books. But what he found stopped him dead in his tracks.
An empty room.
Empty? No. No. That’s not right.
He narrowed his gaze. Didn’t help. The couple still didn’t appear. Now, he out-and-out frowned. They weren’t in there? He pivoted around and marched back into the bar, his sights trained on the bartender.
Gus held his gaze. “Cammie and your brother left a half-hour ago, son.” The man’s handlebar mustache twitched ever so slightly.
“Left?” He blinked.
That made no sense. Why would they leave and miss out on the best part? Revealing the prank.
No. Gus had to be mistaken. Finn and Cammie were at the Lonesome Steer. Hiding. He studied the bartender for several seconds before he realized the man was dead serious.
His gut tightened with the mother of all knots, and he broke out into a cold sweat.
If his brother wasn’t present, that meant…
With legs beginning to buckle, he sank onto the closest stool, his thudding heart taking up residence in his left boot.
This wasn’t good. This was not good.
Remembering to suck in air, Brett gulped once, twice…five times before he slowly raised his gaze to meet the redhead’s anxious face.
Ah, hell no.
He really was engaged to Corporal Trisha Jennings.
Chapter Two
Trisha Jennings didn’t know what was worse, facing her controlling father or her formidable, former commanding officer.
Both could be stubborn and make her life a living hell.
She glanced at the silent man stewing next to her. Rigid, broad shoulders, muscles flexing in his arms while his knuckles whitened around her steering wheel.
Okay, yeah, the captain wins that one hands down.
If only Mrs. Brennan and Terry would’ve allowed her to drive up to Royal Pines on her own. She knew the way—she’d visited a few months back for her friend, Cammie’s, engagement party. Granted, the colonel had driven, and they’d approached from the west. But still, she had a killer sense of direction. Heck, if she could use a map to find her way across an Afghan desert at night, she could certainly find her way to the Brennans’ Colorado dude ranch from Texas.
But, no. They’d insisted she had company. She should’ve insisted on Terry.
Twisting forward, Trisha sighed, her insides knotting worse than the Colorado pines they passed at warp speed.
For over two hours now, two long, silent, tension-filled hours, the captain wouldn’t let her say a word. Not a single, solitary word. Every time she opened her mouth and tried, he held up a hand and glared at her, his mesmerizing blue eyes full of so much anger she was afraid to speak lest his murderous gaze was capable of the strangulation hinted in the dark depths.
But she’d had enough. The man confused the heck out of her back at the Lonesome Steer. First he’d been upset, then friendly, then downright undressing her with those incredible eyes. And now, he was furious. What the heck? It wasn’t her fault the cowboy only went along with their fake engagement in front of her parents because he thought it was a prank.
It really wasn’t her fault.
When she’d called the ranch to warn him of her slip up with her parents, his brother had answered and informed her Brett wasn’t home. Finn had assured her the captain would have her back. She’d foolishly assumed the former SEAL would’ve clued his twin in on the phone conversation. Obviously not. For some unfathomable reason, Cammie’s fiancé apparently used Trisha to pull a joke on her C.O.
I’m such an idiot.
Still, what’s done w
as done. Now, they needed to regroup and form a plan.
Which was impossible without talking.
She turned, and once again, Captain Silent held up that darn hand. It was getting old. Real fast. Trisha folded her arms across her chest in order to keep from swatting at it.
Friggin’ sexy…
He narrowed his gaze in warning, as if he read her thoughts.
…Cowboy!
And darn him. He never looked so good. Blessed with a strong jaw, high cheekbones, and thickly lashed, sky-blue eyes, which, right now, were flashing under his brown Stetson. Then there was his mouth. Jeez, why hadn’t she ever noticed his lips before? They were full, but not feminine, with a nice chiseled edge and sexy divot she had the sudden urge to lick…making her feel guilty and just a little bit naughty.
And as for muscles? The man was loaded. Muscles bulged out of his slate gray shirt, flexed in his forearms, and she knew there was nothing but sinew underneath. She had always considered her captain to be good-looking, but never realized he was so flippin’ hot.
Mouth-watering hot.
Good parts tingling hot.
Oh yeah, her good parts had been tingling ever since he’d crushed her against those hard, hot muscles. Heck, she was a healthy female. Of course she was tingling.
Again, it wasn’t her fault. She blamed it on the civilian clothes. They accentuated the fine physique she knew him to possess thanks to their desert gym workouts overseas.
Funny, she’d never felt this flushed by his presence in Iraq.
Get it together, Marine, she silently berated. It was imperative she continued to think of the man as Captain Brennan and not the sexy-hot-as-sin cowboy she had the uncontrollable urge to lick. Everywhere. Twice.
Darn it.
After a few deep breaths, her mind cleared and body cooled to a manageable burn.
Enough.
She unfolded her arms and lifted her chin. The time for silence had ended.
“I’m sorry, Captain.”
He clenched his jaw so tight, a cracking sound echoed through the car. “Save it, Corporal,” he ground out. “We’re almost to the ranch.”
She hesitated, wanting to have it out already, but perhaps he was right. If she waited, then she wouldn’t have to be in such close proximity when she confronted him. Good call. She nodded and twisted back to face the front.
Cowboy Payback Page 2