Love Under Three Valentinos [The Lusty, Texas Collection] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting)

by Cara Covington

  They didn’t look as if they considered what they were doing as drudgery.

  “So you two really do enjoy cooking?”

  “Yes, we really do,” Paul said.

  “We both take after our dad, Craig.” Wesley grinned. “Of course, with the cycle we ride back in LA, sometimes we go long stretches without getting to work in the kitchen. So this is nice.”

  “Cycle?”

  “When we’re writing a screenplay, we’re at home, and we often find fixing meals is the break we need to get the other creative juices flowing.” Paul looked up from the biscuits he was making and smiled.

  “Then when we’re in production and post-production, we’re also doing a round of social events, which often leaves us too tired, and with too little time, to cook.” Wesley met her gaze then turned back to the pan of meat he was cooking.

  “In my house, growing up, mom did all the cooking. And the cleaning, the laundry—she did everything except those things we kids had assigned to us as chores.”

  “Your dad didn’t pitch in?”

  “No. My mother was a stay-at-home mom, and dad was a cop, which can be a very stressful job. Oh, he’d grill food in the summer, but that was...” The right word escaped her.

  Wesley raised one eyebrow. “Manly?”

  “Yeah, I guess that’s the word. Men cook on the outdoor grill.”

  “And call for more beer during the game?” Lucas tilted his head to the side as he looked at her. That gesture told her he wanted an answer.

  “Yeah, I guess he did, sometimes. But only when the Dodgers were playing.” She chuckled because the memory was a fond one. More often than not, she’d been sitting right there beside her dad, rooting for their team. Good times.

  Kat had been called a daddy’s girl all her life. It was a label she’d worn proudly.

  She came back to the moment and wondered at the way the brothers shared a look. Were they actually communicating, ala telepathy? Despite the intimacy they’d shared earlier, she felt reluctant to ask.

  The conversation turned a corner, as if the men had decided to lighten things up. That both relieved and annoyed her, although she couldn’t say why, exactly, she felt annoyed.

  Paul slipped the tray of biscuits into the oven, set the timer, and then began to make the scrambled eggs. Wesley set a platter of sausage links and bacon into the warming oven and then put more meat into the pan.

  He caught the confused look on Kat’s face. “This is just a bit of bulk sausage meat.”

  “I don’t think I’ve ever eaten it that way.”

  “You won’t now, either, at least not like this. It’s actually the first ingredient in our mother’s sausage gravy recipe.”

  By the time the oven buzzer sounded, all the dishes were ready to be served. Kat’s jaw nearly dropped at the amount of food they’d made.

  “When we’re at our mother’s table for a family breakfast,” Lucas said, “there’s also grits and sometimes French toast, too.”

  “And all in considerably greater quantities.” Paul laughed. “What with Warren and Ed having married Carol, and Nancy marrying Eli and Jeremiah, there was a full dozen of us there eating breakfast on Christmas morning.”

  “That is a very large family.”

  “Families in Lusty tend to be large,” Lucas said, “more often than not.”

  “Hence the name of the town.” Wesley shot her a mock leer, making her laugh.

  A comfortable silence settled over them as she tucked into her meal. She liked her bacon crispy, exactly the way Wes had made it, and couldn’t resist the happy sounds that came from her soul as she ate.

  The biscuits tasted dangerously addictive. Because they did, she took a second and, since Wesley had gone to the trouble to make it, tried some of the sausage gravy.

  Oh my God. Another addiction.

  There was no doubt about it. The Jessop men were seriously habit forming, in more ways than one.

  “I didn’t get to see much of Lusty the last time I was here.” Kat sat back from her plate. Lucas lifted the coffee pot and looked at her. At her nod, he filled her cup.

  “We were actually thinking the same thing,” Wesley said.

  “So, tomorrow, we’ve arranged a tour of the Lusty Clinic for you.” Paul met her gaze, one eyebrow lifted.

  “Why do I have the distinct impression that I won’t be a tourist there?”

  “Because you’re an exceptionally perceptive woman,” Paul said. “Robert has been in touch with Dr. Pawley, who sent him your file. Actually, Robbie said he knew the man, so that made things simpler.”

  “I see.” Kat was wondering if she should protest the presumption. Weren’t there privacy laws?

  “Don’t get pissy,” Wesley said. “One of the things you’ll find with us is that we take our responsibility of taking care of you very seriously.”

  “We need to ensure that you’re all right. If we were still in LA, we’d be taking you back to see the doctor, and probably more than once.” Lucas smiled at her, and she felt all the “pissiness,” as Wesley called it, drain away.

  “All right. The clinic tomorrow. What time?”

  “Robert said any time in the morning would be good.”

  The sound of vehicles driving up to the house caught her attention. As Lucas got up to open the door, Kat recalled that a couple of security consultants were supposed to drop by. Paul held his hand out to her. As they left the kitchen, she heard voices—and one of them belonged to the sheriff.

  Kat understood her feelings toward Sheriff Kendall were the result of their run-in over the apprehension of her skip—who also happened to be the target of a sheriff’s department operation.

  To say Adam Kendall had been furious with her would be an understatement. But having been around the Jessops the last few days, and especially since she’d been hurt, she was willing to concede that mostly his anger had been on her behalf. In his view, what she’d done had been reckless and dangerous.

  The man couldn’t possibly have known how well equipped she was to handle situations like the one that had gone down in that barn.

  Yeah, you’re so well trained and so professional you let a trio of street punks hand your ass to you.

  Then three big, strapping men came into the house, and Kat was able to close off her personal reflections. She smiled and nodded to Adam Kendall, who, hat in hand, returned both gestures.

  Paul touched her arm lightly, snagging her attention. “Kat, this is Mel Richardson and Connor Talbot.”

  She shook hands with both men and then followed them all into the large and airy living room. Kat hadn’t really seen much of this house except to note that, different from their house in Malibu, this one was open concept. The living room had enormous windows looking out, not onto the coastal mountains and ocean but onto the rolling pasture lands that surrounded Lusty, Texas.

  “I received a call about an hour ago from Detective Bannister.” Adam Kendall sat forward in his chair, and his gaze was set on her. “It seems one of the fugitives you recently apprehended, and returned to custody, has been murdered.”

  “Really? Which one?”

  “Larry Borden.”

  That wasn’t the answer she expected. “Borden? What the hell happened?”

  “The State of Colorado is investigating the incident because he was killed while in custody. So far, there are no suspects. It happened outside of institutional surveillance. His lawyer, of course, is raising hell. Apparently the man had been to see him just the day before.”

  “Well, I’m sorry to hear it.” Katrina ran a hand through her hair. “He escaped justice and lived free for nearly a decade. He deserved to go back and serve out his sentence as well as whatever else the system gave him for escaping custody. He didn’t deserve to die.”

  “His murder has raised a number of red flags,” Connor Talbot said. “It had been rumored that Borden had been able to escape custody in the first place because he had connections. The kind of connections that can get you
killed in jail if you double-cross them.”

  “I read the file on him, which included the report of the arresting officers. There was no mention of mob or gang associations.”

  “Apparently the investigators left that information out of the official file because they’d hoped to turn him,” Mel said.

  “Bannister and I are of the same opinion,” Adam said. “The assault on you by those street punks, and then the subsequent sniper attack in Malibu Canyon, are two different M.O.s, and were likely the work of two different...let’s call them special interest groups.”

  Kat felt flummoxed. This was a turn of events she hadn’t even imagined. “Wow. I’m finally one of the popular kids, after all these years.”

  “Banister’s snitches didn’t have a lot to say about the gunman. Only that he was seriously ticked because he not only missed you, now he’s also lost you.” Connor opened up the duffel bag he’d brought with him. “We aim to keep things that way.” He handed her a plastic bag that contained a number of cell phones. “We had our contact send us these—prepaid cell phones with California area codes.” He retrieved one and turned it over. On the back was a sticker with that phone’s number on it. “You’re free to call your family, of course, but use these, please.”

  “I’d also ask you not to tell them where you are,” Adam said.

  “But you’ve spoken to Banister, so he knows where I am.”

  “Actually, no. He thinks you’re in Dallas.” Adam shrugged. “I’m all for co-operating with fellow law enforcement officers. But he and your brother, albeit inadvertently, led that gunman to you. There’s just no other explanation as to how the sniper found you.”

  It was on the tip of her tongue to ask Adam Kendall if he was paranoid. Thankfully, her better angel kicked her in the conscience.

  The man was only trying to help and trying to keep her safe. She hadn’t been worried at all that the local South LA gang would follow her to Texas.

  A more powerful entity, like the one Borden may have been connected to, was another matter entirely.

  “All right. I won’t tell anyone where I am.” She looked over at the Jessops, who’d been sitting quietly but paying attention to everything.

  Then she focused on Adam. “Am I putting anyone in danger being here? Because, if I am, there is no way in hell I’m staying.”

  “No.” Adam answered her pretty damn fast, almost as if he’d been expecting the question. “We’re not a very large town, Kat. And we do have a habit of keeping a close eye on any strangers who happen through.”

  That didn’t sound right. Kat had found everyone in Lusty to be very welcoming, so far. “Why do you do that? Keep an eye on strangers, that is?”

  Adam looked at Mel and Connor. Connor appeared busy looking in his duffel bag, and Mel looked as if he wanted to laugh. Instead, he turned to her.

  “Suffice it to say that in the last few years there have been a few...interesting incidents in Lusty.”

  “Ask our sister the same question,” Wesley said. “I guarantee you’ll get another response.”

  “You’re not helping here, Wes,” Adam said. Then he looked at Kat. “If you’re concerned about sitting idle, we have a gun range that includes a gym. Wes, of course, is our resident black belt. Between the weapons and the karate, you should be able to keep your edge.”

  Kat decided not to think about the fact that she hadn’t once thought about resuming her regimen of workouts. At home, trips to the range and the gym were regular and as natural as breathing.

  For the first time in her life, she felt reluctant to get back to it.

  “That will have to wait until Robbie clears her,” Paul said.

  Adam nodded. “Bannister is in touch with the Colorado Department of Corrections and has also reached out to Borden’s original arresting officers. He’s promised to keep me apprised of the investigation.”

  Mel looked over at the Jessops. “Your window’s been replaced, and our associates are in place.” Then he looked at her and Adam. “We don’t know how long, if at all, they’ll be able to fool anyone watching. They’re coordinating with the LA County Sheriff’s Department. With any luck, they’ll get a line on the shooter. If he’s a standard gun for hire, and they nab him, he might roll on whoever hired him.”

  “As long as he isn’t one of those arrogant professional types, the kind who takes failure as a personal affront,” Paul said. “We wrote a character like that once.”

  “I remember,” Adam said. “Hit Man was a good movie. Let’s just hope life, in this case, doesn’t imitate art.”

  * * * *

  “You may find this hard to believe, but I was expecting the damage to be a lot worse.”

  Wesley tilted his head and glared at his cousin. From all he’d heard, Robert Jessop was a gifted surgeon and an excellent doctor. He was supposed to possess the kind of bedside manner that made his patients instantly relax and trust him.

  Kat wasn’t relaxed at the moment, and Wesley couldn’t say he blamed her.

  “Gosh, Doc, I’m so sorry to disappoint you.”

  Robert’s grin was immediate. “Feeling a little pissy, are you? If you want to take a poke at me, feel free.” Then he lifted her chin, and Wesley figured it was so he could look right into her eyes.

  “I spent five very long years at an inner-city hospital in Chicago. Focus on my right shoulder.” Robert’s words sounded like offhand conversation. He used a penlight to look into her eyes. “We had a very rough clientele. I saw more victims of gang violence than I wanted to.” He tapped his left shoulder and, when she looked in that direction, used the light once more. “One time, they even brought their skirmish right into my ER, shooting up the place. So I know from experience that, usually, when one of those groups wants to send a message, the damage is a hell of a lot worse.” Robert turned off the penlight and pocketed it.

  Kat sighed. “Yes, I’m pissy. The...damage likely would have been worse if the punks hadn’t been interrupted in their work.”

  “Three men attacked her outside a bar in broad daylight.” Paul’s voice didn’t betray the anger Wes knew he was feeling. “The bartender heard her scream and came out swinging with a baseball bat, chasing them off.”

  Robert nodded. Then he turned his attention back to Kat. “That was a very lucky break. How do you feel?”

  “I’m not as sore as I was yesterday, and the mild headache is gone.”

  Robert shook his head. “But how do you feel emotionally?”

  “I’m not sure I know what you mean. We already established I’m pissy. I can be that way a lot.”

  Even Wesley could see that Robert’s touch, when he turned Kat’s head to look at the stitched cut, was gentle.

  “No matter how well trained women are for the tough jobs they take on in life and perform with excellence, they’re more vulnerable than men in the same situations. No matter what we believe about gender equality—and trust me, I absolutely believe in it—physiologically speaking, men and women are different.”

  Wesley opened his mouth to ask Robert what the hell he meant by that. And then he looked in Kat’s eyes and saw something that made him shut his mouth.

  He reminded himself that his cousin wasn’t just a doctor with years of trauma experience. He was also a Dom, a real Dom, and had been a Dom down to his bones since they were kids. Robert would never do or say anything to hurt a woman. Would, in fact, do everything he could to care for any woman who came into his clinic in whatever way he deemed she needed being cared for.

  He shot a glance at Paul and felt like a chump when he understood that Paul seemed to know exactly what Robert was getting at.

  It galled him that there was something going on with their woman that he hadn’t caught on to.

  “I’m fine. I was a little shaky after it happened, but now I’m okay.”

  “All right. If you begin to suspect that you’re not all right, please talk to your men. If you don’t feel you can talk to them, you can talk to me.”


  Wes put his hand up in front of his mouth so Kat wouldn’t see his smile. The flash of fire that lit her eyes when Robert referred to them as “her men” was pure Kat.

  Their woman had claws, and he wouldn’t have her be any other way.

  Robert held her gaze until she nodded. A nod, not a verbal acknowledgement. Kat was too intrinsically honest to go back on her word, once given. But a nod? Maybe her conscience would let her get away with that one.

  Maybe, but he doubted it.

  Robert continued his exam, asking her to lift her shirt so he could examine the bruising on her side. What had been solid purple was now turning yellow and green in places. When Robert touched it, she didn’t wince.

  “Does that hurt?”

  “It’s tender when you touch it.”

  “Only tender?” He waited for her to nod. “Good.”

  He took a moment to look over the file that he’d set beside him on a tray table. “Moderate exercise only for the next week. You know that expression, ‘no pain, no gain’? It doesn’t apply to you at the present time. If something hurts, stop. There were no internal injuries, which is a blessing.”

  “When do you want her back to take out those stitches?” Wesley asked.

  “In another four days or so, I think. In the meantime, if you have any concerns—any of you—call me.”

  Wes, along with his brothers, nodded. Kat looked like she might say something but bit it back. He wondered if she was spoiling for a fight. If Robert hadn’t put that limit on her exercise, he’d take her to the range and let her have a full workout—with him. He didn’t have to have a degree in psychology to know that Kat was holding back her emotions or to know that the way she’d likely learned to deal with those kinds of situations was through a strenuous workout.

  Katrina Lawson was every inch a woman, but she had a lot of what he considered masculine traits. Likely from being a daddy’s girl all her life.

  It hadn’t escaped any of them that Kat idolized her father. The very fact that she hadn’t asked for her mother when she’d been hurt spoke volumes. He wondered if the relationship between mother and daughter had been damaged in her formative years.