Rock Star Cowboys (McLendon Family 3)

by D. L. Roan

  Breezy cocked her head to the side and listened for it again, every cell in her body responding to the urgent call to attention. Another murmur followed the first, but this one was distinctly feminine. Alarmed and curious, she took a few quiet steps in the direction from which the sounds had come.

  Silent as a wraith, she tiptoed along the well-worn path, darting behind the trunk of a large pine when she saw a flash of blue denim through the bushes to her right.

  Heart pounding with exhilaration, she closed her eyes and listened to the deep male voices, her memories providing the details of their matching faces. A sharp feminine giggle spurred her curiosity. The rough tree bark scraped against her shoulder blades, snagging on her flimsy shirt as she peeked around the base of the tree.

  Heat infused her cheeks and flooded her body all the way down to her toes. She was lucky to have found a good hiding place, for had they noticed her, there was no way she could have moved if her life depended on it.

  Spread over the moss-covered ground, hidden amongst the thick ferns just inside the wood line was a plush red quilt. She wasn’t close enough to tell if the small yellow flecks sewn into the fabric were polka dots or flower petals, but there was no missing Connor and Carson’s lithe, tanned bodies stretched out on the quilt, bracketing Charlotte’s feminine frame.

  She strained to hear them over the rapid heartbeat pounding in her ears. An odd but warm sensation flushed through her veins, reminding her of the tingly feeling she’d experienced in the creek when they’d pulled her from the deep water. Except...this was different, stronger, and originated from somewhere deeper inside. Her chest began to burn, her head felt lighter and Breezy realized she wasn’t breathing. Slowly she let out a measured breath, silently gulping in her next as her gaze remained glued to the secret lovers only a couple dozen feet away.

  All three lay on their sides, Charlotte facing Carson with Connor tucked seamlessly against her back. Their half-naked bodies seemed to touch from head to toe, melding together like an almost motionless statue. Only the rhythmic movement of Carson’s hand beneath Charlotte’s skirt and the slight pumping of Connor’s hips behind her gave away their seductive movements.

  “Stop that,” Charlotte said with a teasing giggle, slapping at Carson’s hand. Afraid she’d be caught, Breezy ducked back behind the tree.

  “Come on, darlin’. Let Connor make you feel good.” She swallowed at the sound of Carson’s smooth, cajoling voice.

  “I’m...I’m not sure, Car. I’m not ready for this.” Charlotte’s breathy response and use of Carson’s familiar nickname caused a small pang of jealousy to prick Breezy’s heart. She knew she’d never be the one they touched like that, but seeing them lavish so many of her dreams on someone else—anyone else—was hard to swallow all at once. She was stuck, however. She couldn’t move now or they might see her there, watching from the shadows like the low-class Youngblood child she suddenly remembered she was.

  “We won’t go all the way,” Connor assured her. “We just want to play a little.”

  Breezy peeked around the tree again and her mouth went dry. She covered her eyes with her hand and tried desperately not to look, but her fingers splayed apart of their own free will. She watched through the slit, seeing Connor and Carson unbutton their blue jeans and push them below their chiseled hips.

  They lay at such an angle that she couldn’t see anything other than their identical pale flesh from just above their hipbones and down over their perfectly rounded behinds. She stifled a grin as she saw the stark white line against their deeply tanned torsos and wondered why she found it so funny looking.

  “You’ll feel good. I promise.” Connor coaxed Charlotte’s skirt up, his hand moving steadily between them. Charlotte gasped, clutching Carson’s shoulder in a desperate grip as Connor positioned himself behind her. Carson leaned in and kissed her lips, opening his mouth over hers in a way that made Breezy’s stomach flutter to life with a million butterflies.

  “I’m only going to push a little, Char. Tell me if I hurt you.” Connor’s hips flexed ever so slightly behind her as he promised. “You’re so soft and hot here.”

  Breezy’s insides quaked with nerves and unacquainted arousal as they began to move together. She knew what they were doing. Well, sort of. She’d never done it before, but she wasn’t ignorant of what parts they were touching and why.

  She’d heard Julie Fillmore talk about it in the locker room after gym class once. She’d said that having sex was the best feeling in the world. Listening to the sounds Charlotte was making, Breezy had to believe it was true.

  Her own lips tingled as Carson and Connor took turns kissing Charlotte. Her thighs shook with the effort it took to remain still as she balanced against the heavy pull that pulsed to life between her legs. Breezy clenched against the throbbing that began low in her belly as she watched Carson’s hand move faster beneath Charlotte’s skirt.

  Charlotte threw her head back and moaned aloud. A deep raw sound bellowed from Carson’s throat, a sound that was instantly echoed by his brother. Caught up in their current of passion, a desperate whimper escaped from between Breezy’s clenched teeth. The lustful sound of her own voice shocked her to the core.

  She slapped a hand over her mouth in a futile attempt to take the revealing noise back, but it was too late. With dreamy eyes Carson looked up, pinning her in place with his smoldering gaze, his hips still flexing against a completely unaware Charlotte.

  Breezy bolted, racing through the woods like a mystical sprite. Her steps were sure and swift despite the darkness that had engulfed the path. Her cut-off shorts provided no barrier to the long spindly branches from nearby shrubs whipping against her bare legs. Fireflies whizzed past her as she sprinted towards the faint golden light that filtered through the sheet she’d used to cover their living room window. Sparing not a single look back, Breezy leapt up the bare concrete stairs that served as their front stoop, slung open the trailer door and ran straight into her bedroom at the end of the narrow hallway.

  “Close the damn door!” Her pa’s curses went ignored as she slid down the wall onto the floor beside her bed, chest heaving from the effort to catch her breath. The sound of Pa slamming the front door shook the trailer. Her shoulders hunched against another string of shouted curses that bled through the thin-framed door.

  “Next time you leave that door open, girl, I’m gonna give you a whippin’ you’ll never forget!” His threat was followed with a violent series of pounding blows on her door.

  She’d long ago made a habit of locking it. The motion was as automatic as closing it, and this time had been no different. As long as the lock held she knew she was safe. Pa had never belted her around like he did Ford, but something had changed. She couldn’t quite put her finger on what, but he’d been different since he’d gotten home from the hospital. She didn’t trust the odd feeling.

  The pounding continued for a minute before he finally stopped. She uncovered her ears and relaxed against the wall as his muffled curses moved away from her door. Hopefully it was the last she’d hear from him before he passed out on the sofa for the night. She had enough troubles to choke a horse. She didn’t need her pa to give her any more.

  Tucked away in her dark room, she pulled out her memories of the scene in the woods. One by one, her mind worked like magic to slow Carson and Connor’s movements, freezing each one into its own separate frame. The fluttery ache in her stomach flared to life once more as she examined each still picture in detail.

  They had the most perfect, most beautiful twin bodies. She knew it wasn’t the proper way to describe a guy, but somehow handsome didn’t cover it, and she didn’t know a more fitting word. They were beautiful, inside and out.

  They were every bit as attractive in their worn blue jeans and cowboy boots as they were in swim shorts and no shirt, but nearly naked? Her shoulders shook with a sudden shiver as she remembered Carson’s dreamy stare. Even in the near darkness of twilight she could see the vivid green hue of hi
s irises. Her hands flew up and covered her scrunched up face as a fresh wave of embarrassment crashed over her.

  “He saw me!” Her head shook in denial, though she knew it was true. He’d looked right at her. There was no way he hadn’t seen her. Was there? “Ugh!” She rolled to her feet, flopping face first onto her mattress. What was she going to do? Carson would surely tell Connor he’d seen her watching them with Charlotte.

  “Charlotte!” she gasped. “Oh, I’m such a loser.” Charlotte knowing added a whole other level of humiliation. They’d think she was spying on them! “You were spying on them!” she scolded herself. Watching wasn’t the same as spying, though. It wasn’t as if she’d known what she was going to see when she’d walked into the woods. She could try to explain it...no....she’d never get the words out. Oh, this was such an epic disaster. She’d never be able to look them in the eyes again! Ever!

  She laid there in the silent darkness for what seemed like hours, her rickety metal bed frame squeaking with each restless toss and turn as she replayed the day’s disaster over and over in her mind. She must have fallen asleep sometime later because she was startled awake by another violent knock on her door. Confusion mingled with alarm. The jolting cocktail flushing the sleepy haze from her system, she realized the knocking was coming from the front door.

  Sliding to the edge of the mattress, she waited to see if Pa was awake. More knocking. Was he going to answer the door?

  She reached over to the cardboard box serving as her night stand, lifting her latest romance paperback to see the bright red glow of her alarm clock. Half past ten. Who could it be this late?

  Another series of wall-rattling blows startled her.

  Realizing her pa was passed out cold and not going to answer, she unlocked her door and rushed to stop the incessant pounding. With a twist of her wrist, she pulled the door open to be greeted by a blinding beam of light. She jerked her head back and squinted to see who was standing on their stoop, beating down an unlocked door with a flashlight.

  “Sorry, miss,” an unfamiliar male voice said from behind the bright glare. Breezy dared to re-open her sleepy eyes to see not one, but two deputies and...was that...? ”Uncle Dirk?”

  “Breezy, where’s your pa?” She stumbled back as her uncle pushed his way past her and into their living room. The choking smell of his cologne followed in his wake, and she fought the urge to wrinkle her nose. He would consider it disrespectful at best, and the last thing they needed was to get on Dirk Grunion’s bad side.

  That thought brought her up short. Ford must not have been able to pay the rent on time. That’s why their uncle was there with the Sheriff’s deputies. He was going to kick them out!

  “Uncle Dirk, wait! Ford will get your money, I swear it!” In a rare moment of desperation she reached out and pulled on her uncle’s arm to get his attention. “I know he’s been late before, but he always makes—”

  “This isn’t about the rent, girl. Now go get your pa out of bed.”

  “Ain’t no need for all this shoutin’!”

  Breezy whipped around to see Pa standing—or leaning—against the wall inside the threshold of the narrow hallway leading to their rooms. Sweat stains marked the sleeves of the work shirt he’d unbuttoned, but not bothered to take off. She considered it a remarkable bonus that he’d remembered to zip his pants, but the button was unfastened and the ends of his belt still hung open. The stench of stale beer and body odor wafted into the cramped space as he teetered on his feet and she fought the urge to gag.

  “What’s all this about?” he asked.

  “Mr. Youngblood.” One of the deputies she’d all but forgotten was there stepped over the threshold. His eyes narrowed and his upper lip curled in disgust when he got his first whiff of her pa. She saw the look of contempt as the officer swiveled his head, his gaze moving around the room and taking in their meager belongings.

  An uncomfortable twinge of shame crawled like a spider across her skin. Their things were old and probably trash to most people, but Breezy’d done her best to keep the place clean. Still, she couldn’t stop the heated embarrassment from rising to her cheeks as she followed the officer’s cold stare from their worn and ripped sofa, over to the broken television in the corner, up to the brown swirls that stained the ceiling and then back down to her Pa, who was still standing there with an odd smirk on his face.

  “There’s been an accident, sir,” the officer said, pausing to clear his throat. “We need for you to come down to the hospital with us.”

  “An accident?” The hair on the back of Breezy’s neck stood on end as the uneasiness she’d felt earlier in the day morphed into a gnawing ache in her stomach.

  The officer glanced over at her. She saw the moment the contempt in his eyes turn to pity. “No!” she shouted as she read the unsaid words in his eyes. “Oh God, no! Not Ford!”

  The officer gave her an apologetic shake of his head. “He’s not...he’s not gone yet, but...” he paused, giving her pa a curt nod. “We’d like to offer you a ride to the hospital so you can say your goodbyes.”

  Pa didn’t move. Breezy waited for him to say something, to do...something! She glanced over at her uncle, but was met with a blank expression. He just stood there with his hands tucked into his pockets, staring down at his shiny shoes. Everyone was standing there! No one was doing anything to help Ford!

  Breezy lunged past the deputy and grabbed her pa’s arm. “What are you waiting for? We have to go!”

  He twisted his arm from her grasp. “Get your hands off me, girl,” he said with a nasty snarl.

  “But, Pa! We have to go now!” Desperate to get to her brother, she blindly grasped at his arms, his shirt, anything she could get her hands on to use as leverage to pull him towards his truck.

  “I warned you not to touch me!”

  Breezy cried out when his hands clamped brutally around her upper arms. He shook her so hard her teeth rattled inside her head and caused her to bite her tongue.

  “Let go of her!” One of the deputies said as he pried her from her father’s bruising grip. The coppery taste of blood filled her mouth as the deputy restrained Pa against the wall beside the front door. “Your son is dying,” the deputy said, his voice a low rumble next to Pa’s ear. “Now is your only chance to say goodbye. Do you really want to spend that time in jail?”

  “He’s no son of mine!” Pa sneered.

  Breezy gasped. Her heart raged inside her chest, making her cheeks sting from the sudden rush of blood through her veins. She raised her hands to cover her face; the verbal assault felt every bit as though she’d been slapped with a stark reality she wasn’t ready to believe.

  “Let him die, for all I care!”

  The hate-filled response was slurred by the alcohol still tainting his blood, and muffled by the wall his face was pressed against, but every word hit Breezy with cold, calculating precision.

  The clarification that comes with the flood of certain raw emotions can be life-altering. Love, anger, hate, even fear all have the power to mask the truth. Every once in a while, in the right combination, they can also work like a microscope, zooming in and out until even the tiniest molecule is pulled into perfect focus.

  What seemed like an endless wave of visceral sensations ripped through Breezy’s soul. Disgust and hatred for her pa, love and sorrow for her dying brother, fear for her future without him, grief for a mother she never knew, rage against how unfair it all seemed. They were twisting and turning the scene in front of her until suddenly everything clicked into focus and she knew exactly what she had to do.

  Her legs moved stiltedly of their own accord. She was numb and disconnected from the world around her as she pushed past the deputies, out the front door and stumbled down the concrete steps. She walked, one foot in front of the other, each step harder and harder to take, yet taking her that much closer to Ford.

  She didn’t stop when she heard the deputy’s car start behind her, or when it pulled alongside her on the muddy roa
d. She didn’t stop when one of the deputies got out and stood in front of her, trying to block her path. She stepped around him and kept walking, twisting away from his touch when he tried to stop her, pushing him away when he tried again, screaming when he lifted her into his arms, her fists pounding against his chest. He had to let her go! She had to keep walking! Ford wouldn’t die as long as she kept walking.

  Chapter Four

  Out of the corner of his eye, Carson caught the slightest of movements. He turned his head to see a wide-eyed Breezy Youngblood standing not twenty feet away with her hand clamped over her mouth.

  At first he’d thought he was hallucinating, seeing her standing there amongst the thick ferns in her cut-off jeans, looking every bit as skinny as a pipe drain. Thank heavens she’d bolted before Charlotte saw her. Good god! They would never get the girl to relax enough to let them fuck her if she found out someone had been spying on them. Especially if that someone was Ford Youngblood’s little sister. The little Grunion spy. She was probably home by now, telling her brother every little detail she could remember.

  “What is it?” Charlotte asked, her sexy little moans tainted with enough alarm to make Carson worry they were about to lose their shot once again.

  “Nothing,” he hurried to assure her. “Just a squirrel or something.”

  His gaze caught on Connor’s and he was reminded of why tonight was so important.

  “Con needs you, darlin’.” Charlotte had pushed her skirt down and Carson pushed it back up. Connor gave him a weary glance, but he ignored it. This was going to happen tonight or it may not happen at all.

  He urged Charlotte’s legs apart and motioned for Connor to take his place. His brother hesitated at first, but Carson knew what his twin wanted. He watched as Connor slid down into position, his shoulders wedged between her thighs. The damp evening air was thick and laced with her rich, sweet scent. He was getting hard again. A few minutes and they’d be ready to go. He just had to get her there.