Love Under Two Private Dicks [The Lusty, Texas Collection] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting)

by Cara Covington

Mel met Connor’s gaze, smiling in response to that man’s expression. They didn’t have a lifetime of history between them, and they might not know what each other was thinking all the time the way he imagined some of the other men in this town could, but they certainly were on the same page when it came to Emily Anne Bancroft right then.

  “She promises to try to not piss us off, but not a word said about thinking about herself in a more positive light,” Connor mused.

  “Yeah, I caught that omission, too. I wonder if she realizes that we will know if she’s not thinking positive things about herself anyway, whether she says anything negative or not.”

  “I’m right here, gentlemen.” Emily Anne’s body went ramrod stiff against his. She straightened to her full five-foot-two-inch height then looked at him over her shoulder. “Y’all don’t need to talk as if I’m not, or as if I’m too stupid to understand that you’re talking about me or that you’re still pissed with me.”

  Mel finally understood that overused phrase about a woman being beautiful when she was angry.

  “Believe me when I say, Emily Anne, we’re both very well aware of the fact that you are, indeed, right here.” Connor lifted her chin so she could meet his gaze and understand how serious this moment was for them.

  “Because trust me, we sure as hell would not be showering together, otherwise.” Mel said that close to her ear. It pleased him when she shivered.

  “We’re all three of us venturing into foreign territory,” Connor said, “and in more ways than one. We’ve never done anything like this before, Mel or I, but we have done our research and we do know some things are inevitable, and some things are necessary.” He leaned forward, kissed her nose, and reached for the soap. “And for the record, one of those inevitable things is the way we feel about you—not just your happiness, but your safety and well-being.”

  “That’s why we’re both determined that you’re going to think more kindly about yourself.”

  “Even if we have to fight you to get you there.”

  Well, we really are of one mind when it comes to our woman. In light of how much they both cared about her, what was a little awkwardness between them?

  Mel stroked his hands down Emily Anne’s arms. “Lean back against me, precious. Let’s get you clean.”

  “And then, woman, we all three of us will go to the kitchen, work together to get that dinner of ours started, and have a long, overdue chat.”

  Chapter 9

  “Hey, there, Billy J!”

  Billy J. Cooper recognized the female voice that called to him in broad daylight in the middle of West Grand Street in Comanche, Texas. He mentally smirked when he noticed he was standing right there in front of the newspaper office. He snickered. Maybe I’ll take out a personal ad in The Comanche Chief for everyone to read on Thursday mornin’. Society Bitch Comes On To Lowly Ranch Hand.

  Although he wouldn’t be a ranch hand for very much longer if he had anything to say about it!

  Linda Sue Powers hadn’t given him the time of day, not once through all the years of their shared education from first grade through to high school graduation. Or at any time since.

  Ain’t it funny how a man’s prospects start lookin’ up and everything begins to open wide for him? He wondered if he could get Linda Sue to open wide for him. Mouth or legs, it didn’t make a bit of difference to him.

  All cats really were gray in the dark.

  So Billy J put on his bored face, left his shades in place and turned, waiting for Linda Sue to catch up with him.

  “How’re you doing there, Billy J?” Linda Sue tried not to show how “fast walking” that half a block had winded her. “And how’s you ma and pa doing?”

  He knew what she wanted, and why, and he decided he’d make her work for it just a little bit, first. “We’re all just fine, Miss Powers, thank you, ma’am. And you?”

  “Oh, go on. Listen to you! You’re just so cute.” She patted his arm and then left her hand there and smiled up at him. “Calling me Miss Powers, when we went to school together every day, and everything.”

  There never was an “everything” as far as Billy J ever knew. Hell, the only girl who ever looked at him all through school and later was Emily Anne Bancroft. Just thinking about Emily Anne and the way she ran off just when he needed her most was enough to get his blood to boiling. He told that little inner voice that insisted it wasn’t her that’d run off so much as it had been him that had run her off to shut the fuck up.

  He turned his attention back to Linda Sue. One good thing about his wearing his sunglasses was that she couldn’t actually see him ogling her tits. “Yes, ma’am, we did go to school at the same time.” Though his folks were renters, not land owners, so Miss Linda Sue Powers and her crowd had never even looked cross-ways at him.

  “So, I’ve heard some exciting news about you, Billy J. Mary Beth told me that a Nashville record producer saw you and your band over there at The Waterin’ Hole, and he has offered you a recording contract! Why, they say you’re on your way to the Grand Ol’ Opry!”

  “That’s what I hear, too.” He gave the woman his patented panty-remover smile to let her know he was looking at her and that he liked what he saw.

  If she wanted to spread ’em for him, who was he to deny her the privilege?

  Billy J had done nothing to perpetuate those rumors that were swirling around, though he’d done nothing to stop them, either. The way he figured it, those rumors would be more than rumors before long.

  All he needed to do was to find Emily Anne Bancroft.

  Lovell Howard had been at The Waterin’ Hole one of the Saturday nights he and the guys had been performing, a few months back. Hell, he hadn’t even known the man was there at the time. Emily Anne had sung a couple of numbers with them that night as she did most Saturday nights. The crowd was good which had made Norman, the man who owned the joint, happy.

  At the end of their last set Howard had approached and introduced himself. He’d told Billy J that he really liked their music, and gave him his card, and invited him to send him a couple of demo songs so he could share them with his boss. He said that they had a fresh new sound, just what M & V Records was looking for. He’d said that he had a sixth sense about these kinds of things, and he had no doubt that with work and coaching, Billy J and his band would top the country charts.

  Billy J would never forget that night. That had been the moment he’d been waiting for, dreaming of, since he and the guys started playing together in tenth grade.

  Finally he had great things in his future. Finally he’d have the kind of money and the kind of pussy he knew, deep down inside, that he deserved.

  Didn’t Linda Sue’s interest in him now just prove that his fortunes had already changed?

  There had been, as far as Billy J could see, just one tiny problem. Only one thing stood between him, and having his greatest dreams come true.

  That problem was named Emily Anne Bancroft.

  He’d dumped her ass the very same night that Mr. Howard had handed him his future in the form of that business card. Who could blame him? The last thing he wanted was for those Nashville people—sophisticated, beautiful people—to see him with fat and frumpy ol’ Emily Anne. He couldn’t have been happier when she lit out of Comanche like her pants were on fire. Sure as hell beat her turning into a weepy, whiny clinging vine of an ex-girlfriend.

  He and the boys had cut their CD and sent it along, and Billy J had gotten himself ready, mentally and hell, spiritually, to receive the blessings he’d always known were his due.

  Yeah, he’d been happier than a pig in shit until he’d gotten that phone call from Lovell Howard telling him that he needed to send a tape that featured that “sweet little armful of woman” who’d been on the stage with him that Saturday night.

  Well fuck me seven ways from Sunday! Who would ever guess that ol’ fat and frumpy would end up holding the key to my future?

  He figured that it would be a simple matter of finding the
bitch and telling her he was sorry. He might have to grovel and beg and that sure as hell didn’t sit well. Christ, the woman was so damned pathetic—most times she took whatever he wanted to dish out and then would just come crawlin’ back for more.

  Well, except this time, when he needed her to do just that.

  Billy J had already decided that for the good of his future, he’d apologize, tell her he missed her, and then get her to sing with them, work a rehearsal that they’d tape and then send out to Howard. Hell, he’d even spring for a handful of posies. They had them down at the grocery for five bucks a dozen.

  Billy J guessed that as a singer, she didn’t sound half-bad. She could at least hit all the notes and had good timing. Anyone listening to her singing on that tape wouldn’t know how fat she was. And well, Lovell Howard had already seen her, and still wanted her in the band. There’s just no figuring some men.

  After that, if that offer of a recording contract was extended to him, he guessed he could manage to keep Emily Anne around—and hell, Nashville? Likely he’d find all sorts of hot little groupies willing to fuck on the side, despite Emily Anne being there.

  It might even work out to my advantage, in a way. If one of those pieces starts acting like she wants a ring, I can use Emily Anne as an excuse to keep things light.

  Billy J had talked himself into being okay with this second turn of events, but he hadn’t been able to find Emily Anne. None of their friends—well, his friends, really—had any idea where she’d gone. When he settled down to really look for her, he realized with a bit of a shock that she’d been gone for months.

  Billy J had even gone to see Miz Bancroft, beggin’ her to tell him where her daughter had gone—lyin’ through his teeth and pleading that he’d made a horrible mistake in a moment of weakness and that he—God help him—loved her. He’d even arranged for Miz Bancroft to hear the “rumors” about him and his impending fame and fortune.

  So far, the old bat had refused to budge and tell him where her daughter was, though she had promised to plead his case to her.

  Billy J tilted his head and considered Linda Sue Powers. Her daddy was a big man in these parts, a businessman who had his fingers in damn near every pie on the menu.

  Mr. Powers was a lot of things to a lot of people—and he was boss to a lot of ’em in the county, too.

  Including, he suddenly remembered, Emily Anne’s daddy.

  Billy J reached up slowly and took off his shades in a maneuver he’d been told the ladies found sexy as hell. “Linda Sue, would you allow me buy you a cup of coffee over at the restaurant, there?”

  Hell, he might even score twice. He might be able to get into Linda Sue’s panties—and he might get her to find out, through Emily Anne’s daddy, where the hell that bitch had gone.

  “Why Billy J!” She gave him a big smile and slipped her arm through his. “I thought you’d never ask.”

  * * * *

  Emily Anne sat in the kitchen, bundled in Connor’s bathrobe, a glass of sangria beside her, watching the men work together to prepare dinner.

  “We’re setting up a home office here,” Mel said. “If I’d lived in a house in Waco, I likely would have had one there. But I was living in the same apartment I moved into when I originally opened the business. The idea of a house, and a home office, seemed a little arrogant back then.”

  Both men had quick grins, and Emily Anne found it was one of the things she liked best about them.

  “I haven’t been in any one place long enough to put down roots before now,” Connor said. “The last couple of years especially I’ve been all over the damn place. Because I worked for a government agency based in D.C., I had a small apartment close to there, in Arlington.” He shrugged and then turned his attention back to chopping vegetables. “I never thought I’d want a house to live in, but this feels…right.”

  “Well you’ve certainly made quick work of moving in. I didn’t see a single box waiting to be unpacked between that bedroom and here.”

  “That’s because most everything you see by way of furniture and dishes and such more or less came with the place.” Mel looked at Connor. “We’ll set up the home office this weekend. I’ve got some things in my apartment that I’ll bring, and the rest we’ll have to purchase. You’ll see boxes aplenty then.”

  “I had the impression that you’re busy, investigating all manner of things. Is it all confidential, or can you talk about some of what you’re working on?”

  “Some things are confidential,” Mel said. “Some aren’t. Like the case we’re working on at the moment for the Town Trust. We can talk about that one.”

  “I heard about that awful man who made off with Chloe and Carrie’s inheritance when they were little more than babies. What kind of a man does something like that?”

  “Normally I’d say a very evil man, but in this case, we think that Ralph Baxter’s actions were generated by desperation and his gambling addiction, more than any deep leaning toward being evil,” Mel said.

  Emily Anne shook her head. “Y’all surprise me with that kind of thinking. It’s like you’re giving him the benefit of the doubt in a way, and while I think that’s a fine way to be, in general, I wonder if it’s earned in this instance.”

  “What do you mean, sweetheart?” Connor asked.

  It thrilled Emily Anne to no end to have the attention of these two very intelligent men, to know they were listening to her and giving her words and therefore her thoughts merit.

  “I just meant that while that old saw about desperate times and desperate measures is true, I think a body reacts with what’s at their core, you know? Maybe this Ralph Baxter isn’t as evil as that Tyrone Maddox, who back in the 1800s sought to marry Sarah Carmichael and then kill her for her inheritance—but his soul is black, nonetheless. You know, a good tree bearing good fruit—and the opposite of that.”

  “Huh. You have a point.” Mel looked over at Connor. “That means he might do something knee-jerk again that’s bad—maybe something more ‘evil’ than he’s done so far, because he’s had all these years to resent leaving a life that, without the gambling, and the loss of the Rhodes, could have been a damn prosperous one.”

  “Y’all don’t think he’s living high on all that money he stole?”

  “No. Because we think he did something worse than stealing from two orphans, something that made him go to ground somewhere and stay there.”

  “What do you think he did?”

  “We think he had a fight with the lawyer who was his partner in the crime of stealing from those orphans, and he killed the man.”

  “See? Someone just desperate because of an addiction wouldn’t necessarily do that. I believe only a truly evil soul will take the life of another.”

  It didn’t bother her one bit that the men shared a look, and then treated her to one of patience. Maybe they didn’t agree with her reasoning, but they certainly weren’t belittling her for it, either. She decided to pretend she hadn’t seen that look. “Do you have any leads? That’s the word, isn’t it?”

  “That is indeed the word,” Connor said. “And we do have one—a big one. We’re almost done working it through, too.”

  “We think the man took another name and hunkered down on a piece of land somewhere in the Central to South Texas area,” Mel said. “We think he was looking for a place to run to before that tornado took Donald and Alice Rhodes’s lives. He owed a lot of money to the wrong people and needed a place he could hide out, under the radar. He’d been compiling a list of available properties at the time Chloe’s parents were killed. We have that list, and we’ve added to it some with land sales that would have occurred in our time frame. It’s been a challenge because we don’t know, not for certain, if he purchased the land before or after his partner’s death.”

  “We’re eliminating them, one by one,” Connor said. “It’s slow going but we have help—Ace Webster and Kemp Whittier are also investigators and they’ve been lending us a hand eliminating the pro
perties in Tarkett and Divine Counties. We feel pretty confident that something is going to break, soon.”

  “Oh! Summer’s husbands. That’s what you were talking about at The Dancing Pony. I caught a word or two, and I wondered.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” Mel smiled at her. “Speaking of those folks, we hear Mrs. Webster has herself a very nice boutique over in Morehead.”

  “She does, indeed. As a matter of fact, I plan on heading on over there on Monday.”

  “Well now, angel eyes, I hope you’ll be in the mood when you come back to…model your purchases for us.”

  “Or I might be more in the mood to let you discover them, by and by.”

  The men laughed and turned their attention back to dinner preparations. She’d never before had the experience of men cooking for her.

  Emily Anne thought it was something she could definitely get used to.

  “What about you, Emily Anne? How do your parents feel about the fact that you’ve begun to set down roots in a town away from them?”

  Emily Anne had it in mind to say that her parents were complicated, and leave it at that. But that wasn’t the way she should respond, and she knew it. They were working on building something solid here, the three of them. Already it felt better than she’d ever imagined being in love could feel.

  Her face colored at the mental slip. I am not in love. I’m just…in lust. The little imp that lived inside her began to giggle hysterically at the bald-faced lie.

  Yet, she really didn’t know where to start when it came to her relationship with her mother. “It’s complicated.”

  “That sounds like what some folks fill in for the ‘relationship field’ on a social media website,” Mel said.

  Emily Anne laughed. “It does, doesn’t it?” She took a moment to try and find the right words. “My mother loves me. I don’t have any doubt of that whatsoever. It’s just that sometimes she doesn’t show me that love in the way I need her to.” Emily Anne thought of the way her mother seemed to be trying to get her to give Billy J a second chance. The more she’d thought about it over the last week, the weirder it seemed. “And lately she isn’t behaving rationally at all.”