Her Uniform Cowboy (Harland County Series Book 3)

by Donna Michaels

  “I-I’m not ready for that, Jordan. I just couldn’t yet.” Bad enough she had to do this Guard thing in a few weeks.

  The woman squeezed one last time, then sat back. “When you’re ready, hun. Just think about it.”

  Brandi nodded, hoping it got them to drop the subject. “So…” She cleared her throat, and tried to cover the wince in reaction. “What are you doing here?”

  “We actually came to take you to the pub. There’s a great band playing tonight, and you haven’t been doing anything but work.”

  “Yes, we’re here to make sure you come and have some fun for a few hours.”

  Her stomached knotted. She didn’t want to laugh and pretend to have fun. Not with the big ‘C’ hanging over her head. And yet, she was tired of sitting and waiting for the phone to ring with results.

  “I don’t know. I have some plans to go over.”

  “No.” Jordan stood. “You have some plans to have fun. Starting now. Go get changed. Put on a killer shirt and tight pair of jeans.”

  All her jeans were tight.

  “And don’t forget boots. Guys love boots.”

  “Wait, guys? No one said anything about guys.” She sat back down.

  Kerri and Jordan exchanged a determined look, then each grabbed an arm and escorted her into her room. Mozart glanced at them and yawned. Lot of help he was…the traitor.

  She grasped the violin case and pushed it back under the bed, hoping when she stood, they’d be gone. They weren’t. And they were in her closet.

  “Here.”

  Jordan shoved a solid burgundy, scoop-necked T-shirt at her the girls had insisted she buy during their recent shopping trip. She’d had no intention of wearing the form-fitting shirt. Heck, the tags were still on it. And she’d shoved it way into the back of the closet.

  “And these.”

  Kerri slapped a pair of jeans on the bed Brandi had purchased at the same time.

  “And your Ariat’s. I love those boots.”

  With both sisters staring from her to the clothes on the bed, Brandi had no choice. “Fine.” They weren’t moving. Apparently they didn’t trust her. Double fine. She stripped and was about to shrug into the outfit when Jordan held up a hand.

  “Wait. The underwear, too.”

  “What? Why?” Crap, she was just not up for this.

  Kerri touched her arm. “Sexy underwear always makes us feel better. And we know you have some. We were there when you bought it, remember?”

  Remember? How could she forget? They’d practically thrust the pink lacy thong and matching bra in her arms, and because the store actually had her size, she’d let them, figuring she could at least wear the outfit under clothes to make her feel better.

  Shoot. She just proved their point.

  “Fine.” Grumbling, she grabbed the lace from a drawer, and when she turned around the sisters were gone and door was shut. She glanced at Mozart curled up on her jeans, staring at her. “A little too late, buddy.”

  And because she wouldn’t put it past the Masters sisters to check, Brandi quickly changed into all the suggested clothing, stepped from the room, and lifted her shirt. “See? It’s all on.”

  Matching pleased expressions lit her friends’ faces, and they nodded.

  “Good. Let’s go,” Jordan said, heading for the door Kerri held open.

  An hour later, Brandi dropped back into the booth they’d commandeered, wondering what was in the water. She’d danced with four different cowboys in the last half hour alone. Although it was fun and kept her mind occupied, she was tired and needed a break.

  “Your dance card sure is full tonight, darlin’,” Connor said, sliding her water closer.

  She drank half the glass then turned to him and smiled. “Thanks, and yes, it’s kind of weird.”

  “Not at all.” He shook his head. “Proves cowboy’s have good taste.”

  “Awe, thanks.” She leaned in and kissed his cheek, then added, “Darlin’.”

  Jordan and her husband laughed from the other side of the table. Then Cole straightened and nodded toward the door.

  “Hey, the Daltons are here. Why don’t we move to a bigger table?”

  And before Brandi knew it, she was sandwiched between Connor and Kade, with Kevin, Jordan and Cole on the other side.

  “If either of you want to dance with Brandi, you’d better put your request in now,” Connor said.

  And at that moment, she would’ve been quite happy to have the floor swallow her whole.

  “Yeah.” Cole nodded. “She’s got them lining up tonight.”

  Okay, in pieces. Swallow her in pieces. Anything so she didn’t have to respond or glance at the silent sheriff.

  The blue-eyed Dalton smiled from across the table. “Well now, of course she does. The woman’s beautiful, ain’t she, cuz?”

  Pieces or whole. She wasn’t partial. Just let the swallowing commence.

  Kade turned to her, and he was seated so close she could feel his breath. “Yep,” he said, then added in a low, thong-melting tone only she could hear. “Every inch.”

  Oh, look at that. Her thong melted.

  She reached for her water and sucked down the rest. Damn, the man was hot. Real hot. Her body was on fire. But he didn’t ask her to dance, or say anything else. Just sat there staring, gaze unreadable. She got the impression he was almost angry.

  “Hi, everyone.”

  Jace appeared at the table, saving her from…from herself probably.

  “Hi, Jace.” Kevin slapped the doctor on the back. “Pull up a chair.”

  The doc smiled, but shook his head. “Thanks, but I came over to ask Brandi to dance.”

  Oh, thank you, Lord. An escape route. The sweetheart continued to be a big help this week.

  “Love to.” She set her empty glass on the table and stood, noting the silent sheriff stiffen.

  With a smile, Jace took her hand and led her to the crowded floor where other couples two-stepped to the band playing their heart out on stage.

  “Any news?”

  “No.”

  He squeezed the hand he held at his chest. “How are you holding up?”

  “Okay.”

  His gaze narrowed. “You sure? You’re awfully warm.”

  She laughed before she could stop. Yeah, courtesy of the hotty sheriff. “Dancing will do that,” she said instead.

  He studied her a moment then nodded. “Dance with Kade yet?”

  Her feet suddenly forgot how to work. She stumbled with elephant-like grace. His grip tightened and he pulled her close.

  “You okay?”

  “Yeah.” Her face heated to fairly mortified.

  “So, I’ll take that as a no to dancing with Kade.”

  “Yes, I mean, no. I didn’t dance with the sheriff,” she said. “We’re just friends.”

  The doc tossed his head back and laughed, without missing a step. “Right. That’s why he’s looking at me like he’d like to demote me.”

  This time she laughed, her heart dipping at that thought for some reason. “Nah, he probably just had a rough day at work.”

  “With Donny as his deputy, it’s no wonder.”

  They were still laughing when the song ended and he walked her back toward the table. “You hang in there, okay? If you need to talk, call me.”

  With the Daltons and McCalls watching, all she dared do was squeeze the good doctor’s hand. “Thanks,” she said then released him.

  He turned to the table and nodded, then walked back into the crowd.

  Before she could sit back down, another cowboy approached and asked her to dance. This went on for a whole half hour. Finally, she told the next one thank you, but no and made her way back to her chair, noting Kade was now sitting at the bar with Connor.

  She’d passed the sheriff on the floor a few times, but other than a nod, he never said a word. Neither had she. What was there to say? They’d had their night of sex. Were keeping it simple. So, why was it Kade’s chest she wanted to bu
ry her face against? Why was it his arms she wanted wrapped around her tight as he told her everything was going to be fine? She dropped into her chair and refilled her glass from the water pitcher, happy to have the table to herself.

  “You look like you could use something stronger.” Kevin smiled as he joined her after dancing just about every dance since he’d arrived. All with different women.

  She snorted, very unladylike, before drinking her water. “Truer words.”

  He cocked his head. “Would you like me to order you something?”

  “No, that’s okay.” It was getting late, and she was getting tired of playing the dance-check-the-phone-game. “I’m going to leave soon.”

  “Well now, you can’t leave without dancing with Kade.” Kevin sat back in his chair, arms folded across his chest. “The two of you have been circling each other all night. What’s the problem?”

  “Problem? There’s no problem.” She sipped her drink and shrugged, hoping to appear nonchalant.

  “Good to hear. So, go ask him to dance.”

  The water in her mouth went down the wrong way. She choked like a dog on a bone. Yeah, graceful. Now her already sore throat hurt worse. “No,” she managed before taking another drink.

  “Why not?”

  “Jeez, what’s with you tonight? Don’t you have a groupie to dance with?”

  He threw his head back and laughed. “Nice try, but we’re not changing the subject.”

  “There is no subject. I’m going home.”

  “You are just as stubborn as my cousin. And here I thought you had more sense.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “What it means, darlin’, is simple.” He leaned forward to tap the table with his finger. “You both want to dance with each other, but neither will ask. What’s the big deal? So what if you’ve already had sex? No law says you can’t dance with each other, too. Go ask him. It doesn’t mean marriage. It’s just a dance.”

  Her gaze drifted to the sexy man in the charcoal shirt. God, he looked good, boots crossed at the ankles as he leaned a hip against the bar and laughed at something Connor said.

  Lifting the drink to his mouth, he caught her watching.

  Damn. Busted.

  He stilled and stared over his glass at her, smoky gaze still unreadable.

  Kevin was right. She wanted to dance with Kade, but until that moment, she hadn’t realized how much or why. She really, really needed to have his arms around her, needed to experience that safe feeling his embrace had evoked.

  “Go ask him,” the blue-eyed devil urged.

  Before she could think—or talk herself out of it—Brandi got up and walked straight to the gorgeous man, who set his drink down without dropping her gaze. As she approached, he straightened, and Connor turned, his quizzical expression disappearing under a lop-sided grin.

  Go ask him.

  Kevin’s words rang through her mind, and she hoped he wasn’t wrong when she stopped in front of his cousin, wishing she could come up with something witty.

  Keep it simple.

  Staring into those gray eyes, she fought the sudden influx of emotion she’d kept at bay the past several days. The need to feel his strong arms around her, to feel safe—to just plain feel—shook through her and gave her the courage to place a hand on his arm. “Would you like to dance?”

  For a heart-stopping moment Brandi thought he was going to refuse. That unexplained anger she’d seen earlier tightened his face for a split second, but something in her eyes must’ve relayed her need or sincerity. Whatever it was, she was grateful because he nodded, grabbed her hand and led her to the dance floor. Luck was on her side, because the band started to play a slow Tim McGraw song and he pulled her in close.

  Needing no encouragement, she sank into his wonderful, hard, welcoming chest, squeezing her eyes shut as she held tight, reveling in his strength and warmth as his strong arms closed around her. A few tears escaped before she could stop them but, thankfully, went unnoticed. By the middle of the song, she composed herself enough to loosen her hold, but not too much. He felt so damn good. Her need for the man turned into an entirely different category. Soon all the brushing and friction from their touching bodies stoked a familiar fire. Her body remembered his, remembered the muscles, ridges, the strength and his ability to take her right out of herself. She needed that tonight. God, how she needed that tonight.

  But what if tonight wasn’t enough?

  That question reverberated through her head as the song came to an end. There was no tonight. Just this dance. And it was ending. It had to end. Best if it ended.

  Then why was she still holding him?

  Because she was weak and the man made her feel strong. He made her feel wanted, and good about herself. But they’d had their night. And even if he’d wanted more, which he’d said he didn’t, the guy didn’t deserved to be with someone uncertain about her health.

  She knew without a shadow of a doubt Kade Dalton would stand by her, but she was unwilling to drag him down that road. He had issues of his own to deal with, and she refused to add to them. His heart was too big; he’d never walk away from the needy. So she needed to suck it up. She could do this on her own. And she would. Starting now.

  Releasing him, she stepped back, immediately missing his warmth. Muttering a thank you to his Adams apple, because there was no way in hell she’d risk looking into his eyes—those warm and accepting, mesmerizing gray eyes—she turned and walked right out of the pub.

  What the hell?

  Kade glanced at the faces of those nearby, as if they’d have the answer. No one paid any attention, just danced as if nothing had happened. But dammit, something did happen.

  “You should go after her.”

  He turned to find Jace standing next to him, arms behind his back, serious gaze trained on the door Brandi had exited. A foreign emotion squeezed Kade’s chest and heated his blood. Why the hell would Jace tell him to go after the girl? Wasn’t his friend seeing Brandi?

  His spine stiffened. “Why don’t you?” he asked before heading back to the bar and the drink he should’ve stayed to finish.

  “Sarge, wait. Top, would you wait,” the doctor implored, clamping a hand around Kade’s upper arm.

  Because he was sheriff, and only because he was the sheriff, Kade didn’t carry out the urge to knock the doc to the floor. Even though he was off duty, he still respected the uniform. Both uniforms. And it was because thoughts of using violence on a friend were so foreign and so far from what he was about, yet becoming more damn frequent, Kade stilled to listen to the man.

  “Look,” Jace began, wisely removing his hand. “I’m getting the impression you think there’s something going on between me and Brandi. But there isn’t.”

  Jesus, did the guy think he was stupid?

  “Don’t bullshit me, Turner. I’ve seen you with her.”

  The guy reeled back. “What? Here? When I came to your table to ask her to dance?”

  The deep frown didn’t fool him. Folding his arms across his chest, Kade stared the man down. “Yes, and yesterday in your car. So cut the crap.”

  Turner blew out a breath, glanced around, then grabbed Kade’s arm again and pulled him to a quiet corner.

  He was impressed. The doc’s blue gaze held just enough concern to go with his conflicted expression that he was almost prepared to believe whatever was about to come out of the guy’s mouth. Almost.

  “You need to go to her.”

  He yanked free. “Not going to happen.”

  “Look, I only drove her home yesterday because she…” Turner paused, exhaled a curse, then continued, “…because she needed one. Okay? And that dance tonight was just to check on her.”

  Right… Wait…

  His heart rocked hard in his chest when the words sunk in. “What do you mean check on her?” He grabbed the guy’s arm. “What’s wrong? Is she okay?”

  The doc gave him one of those damn patient looks.

  �
�You’ll have to ask her.”

  “Jesus, Jace. I’m asking you.”

  His mind worked overtime. If Brandi and Jace hadn’t been together yesterday in a friendly manner, then it meant professional. And since he knew the designer was only working on Jordan’s project right now, that meant…

  “I promised her I wouldn’t say anything, so I’m not saying anything,” the doctor stated, freeing his arm to cup Kade’s shoulder and stare him right in the eyes. “Go to her. She needs you.”

  The knot forming in his stomach tripled in size. Shit.

  Without a word, he pivoted on his heel and strode out of the pub, making the two minute drive to the designer’s cottage in less than one.

  Go to her. She needs you…

  What the fuck was going on?

  Chest tight for reasons he didn’t understand or care at the moment, he knocked on the door, half afraid she wouldn’t answer even though her truck sat a few feet away in the driveway. Her odd behavior this past week, and her death-grip on his ribs during their dance, battered his mind.

  Why the hell hadn’t he realized something was wrong sooner?

  He knocked again, louder, longer, then thrust his hand through his hair and squeezed the back of his neck. Christ. She’d even looked at him different tonight, needy—almost desperate—but he’d mistaken it for lust. Somewhere in the back of his mind he’d noticed, but was too damn blinded by…ah hell, he didn’t know, he just didn’t catch on.

  Dumb ass.

  Lifting his hand for the third time, he stilled when the door finally opened and Brandi stood there in a pink robe, staring up at him, eyes red and watery. His stomach bunched as if physically punched.

  “Brandi, what’s going on? What the hell is wrong?”

  She shook her head, tears filling her eyes and spilling down her face.

  Ah hell.

  The invisible band squeezing his chest tightened until he couldn’t breathe, cracking something open deep inside. “Come here,” he ground out, stepping closer to pull her in tight and close the door. “It’s okay. Whatever it is, it’s okay. I’ve got you,” he soothed, leaning back against the door as she burrowed into him.

  Unsure how to help when he didn’t know what the hell was actually wrong, he remained where he was and just held the woman, whispering words of encouragement and kissing the top of her head while she silently cried.