by Sabrina York
She had nearly died, after all.
He caught sight of the crowd in his sitting room and changed course. “Hey, what’s going on in here?” he asked. “Did I miss the invitation to a party?” He grinned, and dimples exploded on his cheek.
She nearly sighed.
Claire leapt to her feet, wringing her hands. “Cody, Porsche was almost trampled by the bull in the south paddock. I told you we needed to post signs.”
He turned to her and their gazes locked; her pulse pattered. He was so beautiful with his sandy brown hair, his chiseled face, his sculpted body. And that expression, the intensity in his eyes as he stared at her with his hands on his hips . . . Scintillating.
If this was what it took to get him to notice her she should have danced with bulls long ago.
But then he opened his mouth.
“What the hell were you doing in that field?” he bellowed.
She blinked. Well hell. That was not the loverly concern she’d had in mind.
“Cody, back off. She’s had a terrible fright.” Lisa was such a wonderful friend.
“Of course she’s had a fright. If she was gallivanting in the south paddock, she deserved to have a fright.”
“Technically, I wasn’t gallivanting—”
“I told you, you should have posted signs!” Lisa tried once more to pass the gauntlet, but this time, Cody grabbed the shot. She gave up, sending Porsche a smile and a shrug.
Obviously if one wanted something done, one must do it oneself. Porsche hefted to her feet and made a beeline for the bar.
“What’s all the shouting about?” Cade asked as he wandered into the room. Though he was Cody’s brother, he was not nearly as pretty. In fact, his features were rough and savaged. Of the two, Cade was the somber one, the serious one. And unlike his brother, he was not afraid of commitment.
“Porsche went riding in the south paddock!” Cody bellowed.
For God’s sake. It wasn’t as though she’d done it on purpose.
Cade shook his head. “But we put the new bull in the south paddock.”
“Exactly.”
“Good God, Porsche! What were you thinking? You could have been killed.” Cade marched over to her, spied her shot, stole it, and knocked it back. With a sigh, she took a snort from the bottle, because the shot glass thing just wasn’t working out for her. It was a lovely burn. “If you’d died in that paddock, do you know what would’ve happened?”
She blinked at him. “What?” Not that she was interested. She’d be dead by then, after all.
“Your brother would kill us.”
Irritation riffled. “Wait. You’re worried that my brother would kill you if I died?” There was just something wrong with that. Oh, not that Ford might kill them, but that the prospect of upsetting her brother worried them more than the thought of her mangled body languishing in the south paddock.
“Well, thanks to Brandon, you all don’t have to worry about your brother coming over here with a shotgun,” Lisa said soothingly. She patted Brandon on the shoulder, though she had to lift her arm to do so.
It occurred to Porsche, all of a sudden, just how tall he was. How large. His muscled body dominated the room, and that was saying something because Cody and Cade weren’t exactly pipsqueaks.
Cade fixed his attention on Brandon and frowned. “What did you do?”
“He rescued her.” Claire clutched her hands together and set them to her cheek. She batted her lashes too, which, all things considered, was annoying as hell. But then, that was Claire. She’d been annoying as hell pretty much all her life, so Porsche was used to it.
Cody turned to Porsche and his brow furrowed. “He rescued you?”
Oh, she liked having his attention on her. “He did.” She fluttered her lashes before she remembered how annoying it was. “He jumped the fence, swooped in, snatched me up, and we rode off into the sunset—”
“It’s noon,” Claire said dryly.
Porsche glared at her. “It was very romantic.”
Cade’s attention snapped to Brandon. “You jumped the fence?”
“I did.”
“Are you all right?”
Wait. What? Was he all right?
She was able to keep herself from spinning around the room and warbling, Hello, I’m the one who almost died, but just barely.
Brandon nodded. “I’m fine. And so is Gotham. No casualties.”
“Oh God.” Cade sank down next to Porsche and stole the tequila bottle. “You were on Gotham?” Everyone knew Cade loved that horse.
“Yeah.” Brandon stubbed his toe into the carpet. “Sorry about that.”
“You’re worried about the horse?” Porsche didn’t intend for her voice to rise to quite such a shrill bleat, but honestly. Her life had been at risk.
“He’s my favorite horse.”
“Well, I think Brandon deserves a treat for being such a hero.” Lisa hooked arms with him and tugged him toward the kitchen, and Porsche rolled her eyes. That was Lisa’s answer to everything. Treats. Usually Porsche didn’t mind, but this time she hadn’t been offered one.
All of the men though, anticipating some gastronomic orgasm, followed.
This left Porsche and Claire alone.
They exchanged a wordless look that only women who’d been friends since the first day of Mrs. Wemberly’s Sunday school class could understand. Porsche sighed. “Did you see that? He barely even noticed me. I was almost trampled by a two-ton bull and he hardly flicked an eyelash.”
“Oh pish.” Claire waggled dismissive fingers. “The bull is only one ton.”
“The size of the bull is not at issue—”
“Besides, annoying his bull isn’t the way to go about capturing my brother’s attention—”
“I believe the bull was annoying me.”
“Do you have any idea how much he paid for that bull?”
“It doesn’t matter what it cost. In the end, they’re all steaks.”
“As a vegetarian, I find that comment insulting.”
Porsche froze and gaped at her lifelong friend. “You’re a vegetarian? When did that happen?”
Claire waved her hand in a vague direction—probably toward Bubba’s Bar and Grill because her last visit there had ended with her in the ER having her stomach pumped. “Thursday.”
“Well . . . congratulations?”
“Thank you.”
After a moment Porsche asked, “How long do you think it will last?”
Claire wrinkled her nose. She leaned in and whispered, “I’m really missing bacon.”
“Understandable.”
“Though Charlie has been very encouraging.” Her nose wrinkled. “Of course, it means more meat for him.”
“He does like his meat.” Claire’s boyfriend was the town’s sheriff and a definite carnivore. Probably needed all that protein to fuel those bulging muscles.
“He keeps scraping all his vegetables onto my plate.”
“How generous of him.”
For some reason Claire looked very put out. Probably because she really didn’t care for vegetables. “My point is—”
“Was there a point?” With Claire, sometimes it was difficult keeping hold of the gist of a topic. She was like a conversational roller coaster, barreling up and down and around in dizzying circles.
Claire fixed her with a pedantic look. “I believe it was you, not being able to capture my brother’s attention.”
Oh right. They’d been talking about her problem.
“You’re going about it all wrong.”
Really? She’d been in love with Cody Silver her entire life and never once had elicited so much as a kiss, no matter how hard she tried. “Thank you, Captain Obvious.”
“Harassing his livestock—”
“I wasn’t harassin
g—”
“And putting yourself in danger is not going to work. He would never be interested in a woman who is TSTL.”
“I don’t know what that means.” Claire loved using acronyms no one else on the planet understood.
She sighed. “Too Stupid To Live.”
Really? “Claire, you cannot believe I did that on purpose.” What lunatic would? No matter how gorgeous Cody was. “I mean, there were no signs posted on the field.” She grasped that straw because she knew Claire would appreciate the argument.
Indeed, her chin firmed. “I did tell them to post signs.”
“They never listen.”
“They never do,” Claire agreed.
“Besides, there was no guarantee that Cody would be there to save me.”
“Yes.” Claire folded her fingers and adopted a prim expression that screamed sarcasm. “In light of that, it would be a foolish ploy.”
“It was not a ploy. It was an accident.”
“At any rate, you’re lucky Brandon was there to save you.”
“I was.” It hit her again what a close call she’d had—through no fault of her own—and how lucky she was. She pinned Claire with a curious look. “Who is he again?”
Her friend blew out a breath. “Again? Are you even paying attention to this conversation?”
“I’m trying.”
“He’s Cade’s friend. They served together in Iraq. They met up in Austin when Cade and Cody were down there auditioning new dancers for the show.” In addition to running a ranch with very dangerous bulls, the Silver brothers ran a B&B with a twist. They brought in male dancers on the weekends to perform for Dallas’s horny housewives. Everyone thought Cody had lost his mind when he first proposed the idea, but the parties they threw had saved the ranch from certain doom. The Double Stud was now one of the most popular destinations in the area for a ladies’ night out.
“Wait. Brandon is a dancer?” He hadn’t seemed the type. Most guys that big were slow movers and stuck to the Robot and the Sprinkler on the dance floor. And somehow, she just couldn’t envision him slathered with oil and body glitter . . .
Or maybe she could.
“Mmm hmm. According to Cade, he’s pretty good. Well, of course, or he wouldn’t have invited him here to perform. From what I understand, he took it up as physical therapy after an injury in the field.”
Porsche blinked. “He doesn’t seem injured.”
“If you pay attention, he walks with a limp.” This was a gentle jab. Claire was always accusing Porsche of not paying attention. Which was ridiculous. She was very alert.
“Have you seen him dance?” She wasn’t sure why the idea was suddenly so fascinating. Granted, Brandon was a damn-fine-looking man—though he didn’t have Cody’s golden hair or green eyes. But he had saved her, after all. He deserved some adoration for that.
Oh, and he was built. He’d been able to swing her up behind him with one hand and, now that she thought about it, his upper arms had been very well defined. And his chest. Not that she’d clutched him, but she had.
Claire laughed. “I haven’t seen him dance yet. They just got in this morning, but you’d better believe I’ll have some chore to do in the dining hall when they practice.”
“Oh yeah.” Porsche nodded, her eyes wide and innocent. “I think you’ll need help with that.”
“Probably.” Claire sighed and stared out the window for a moment. “It’s really a shame about Cody,” she said.
Naturally that snagged Porsche’s attention. Anything about Cody did. “What?”
“Him not noticing you.”
Oh. Right.
“He’s really screwing up our plans.” They’d made a blood vow in the third grade that one day they would be sisters. Cody was not cooperating, and now that Ford was married, and Cade and Lisa were engaged, Cody was their only option. But then, for Porsche, Cody had always been the only option.
Porsche shook her head and voiced her greatest fear. “If he hasn’t noticed how irresistible I am by now, he probably never will.”
Claire patted her hand. “You are irresistible. I’m sure of it.”
“Thank you.”
“Maybe he’s just intimidated by Ford.”
Porsche’s brother had always been something of a bear when boys showed her a lick of interest. But Porsche was a grown-up now. And since he’d met Crystal, he’d become absorbed in their romance and let up a little. She wasn’t sure if it was Crystal’s influence—convincing him Porsche could make smart decisions—or the fact that his fiancée kept him preoccupied, but it really didn’t matter. The fact was, Ford had stopped hovering. At least, as much as he once had.
“Cody’s not afraid of Ford.” Cody wasn’t afraid of anything.
Claire snorted. She did that. Often. “Maybe Cody only wants what he can’t have. Some men are like that. I mean, think about it. You’ve always been around. Always been available. Maybe he just takes you for granted.”
Porsche gaped at Claire as her words bubbled through. It was as though a thousand-watt lightbulb went off in her head. And suddenly everything was so clear. She had been going about this all wrong, following Cody around and drooling as she did. She knew at once what she needed to do.
If Cody wanted only the things he couldn’t have, she needed to make herself . . . unavailable.
With the possible exception of embarking on a junket to Hong Kong—in which case, out of sight was out of mind, which was a bad idea—her best bet was to obtain a significant other. Some handsome glorious manly man who would give Cody pause.
What she needed was a boyfriend.
Chapter Three
Though everyone in the kitchen kept peppering him with questions about the bull, his rescue, or the emotional condition of Cade’s horse, Brandon’s true attention lingered in the sitting room, on her.
Her name was Porsche.
Porsche.
It was a beautiful name, and the instant he heard it, he couldn’t help but think how perfect it was for her. It seemed to go with her long, dark hair and her curvy figure. She was sleek and expensive-looking, just like the car.
And she had a regal demeanor and was quick-witted, just like the character from Shakespeare’s Merchant of Venice.
It was a good thing she was both, because he wasn’t certain how she spelled it.
At any rate, the name matched her.
“So, Brandon,” Lisa said with a smile as she passed him a decadent-looking cupcake, “Cade tells us you just got your discharge papers. What are your plans now?”
It was mortifying that he just stared at her. He should have some sort of canned response for questions like this. The truth would never suffice.
Yes ma’am. I bought a motorhome and a dog and I intend to aimlessly drive around the country until I find a place that feels like home?
He knew, if no one else did, there was no such place.
Not anymore.
Instead he simply lifted a shoulder.
Cade saved him, huffing a laugh and pulling Lisa into his arms. “Come on, honey. Give the man some time to acclimate to civilian life.”
Lisa responded with a glare. She wriggled out of Cade’s arms. “But where are you from? Do you have family?”
Ah. A question he could answer, though he didn’t want to. “I was raised in a military family, ma’am. Growing up, I lived all over the world. Japan, Germany, Kansas . . .”
“Fascinating.” He liked her interest, the way her eyes glowed. He didn’t have the heart to tell her it wasn’t fascinating in the least. He’d been uprooted every year of his life. He’d moved nineteen times before he graduated from high school. It was a miracle he’d finished at all, because his education had been so spotty.
“And your family?”
“Ah . . .” He looked down. “My father passed about five years
ago, and my mother died of a stroke when I was in the hospital.”
“I am so sorry.” She was clearly horrified to have brought up such a painful topic, so he attempted to soothe her with a smile.
“I have one brother. He’s a Navy SEAL, like I was. I have no idea where he is right now.” And they weren’t close. Not after their last exchange. After that, they’d probably never speak again. “I guess you could call me rootless.” He huffed a laugh, but it wasn’t funny.
“Nonsense.” It was cute the way she dismissed his dismal truth with a snort. “Everyone has a place they belong.”
Yeah. He belonged in the military. But he was of no use to them anymore.
“Brandon is . . . exploring his options.” God bless Cade. He understood. Though he’d always had a home, a stable and set place in the universe, a family, he did understand what it cost a man to reinvent himself when he got the heave-ho from the service. And from what Brandon had seen, he was doing pretty damn well for himself.
And yeah, that flash of envy was beneath him.
“What an exciting time,” Lisa said, and when Brandon pinned her with a bemused look, “exploring your options. Why, the entire world is your oyster right now.”
What a pity he disliked oysters.
Lobster, maybe.
“So what do you think you’ll do?” Cody asked, leaning on the counter and fixing him with an intent glance.
“You could become a rancher,” Lisa suggested.
Brandon chuckled. “Ma’am, I don’t know the first thing about ranching.” He could ride thanks to a summer camp he’d attended in Ft. Sill, Oklahoma, but that was about it.
“You call women ma’am. That’s a damn good start.” He liked the way her eyes sparkled. The way her smile was so warm, so welcoming.
“Somehow I don’t think that’s enough.” Besides, though he liked the wide-open spaces and earthiness of the ranch, he knew it wasn’t for him.