by Maree, Kay
My eyes quickly scanned the length of his torso. His natural swagger seemed to emphasize the expanse of his chest and shoulders. Even when relaxed, his arms were well-defined with muscle. A sprinkling of hair wove from the base of his throat, down his chest, then disappeared under the top of his jeans, and I noted that the cold porch boards didn’t seem to be a bother for his bare feet.
“Can I sit?”
I flicked the blanket open and shuffled sideways. “Sure. It’s so peaceful out here.”
Brandon agreed as he sat, then casually draped the blanket over his lap. Although we both remained silent, our coiled tension filled the night air. Each subtle shift of his body washed over my senses like ripples on a lake. When he spoke, the gravity of concern in his voice resonated deep, and that compassion shorted my breath.
“Are you okay, Louisiana?”
I pursed my lips and focused on the dark silhouette of the barn outlined against the starry sky.
“I will be,” I whispered.
When Brandon nervously rubbed the tops of his thighs, his tanned forearm brushed against mine and created little zings across my exposed skin.
“If you’re uncomfortable with me or Jake, I can ask the sheriff to have you removed from the program, no questions asked.”
His business-like manner contrasted with his caring tone, and while I was mildly offended, I understood that we were both figuring things out.
“Why did you agree to a woman?”
Brandon stiffened and turned his head my way. “Why not? I’m not a traditionalist that thinks ranchin’ is just a man’s work, darlin’.”
“Louisiana,” I replied.
He coughed to hide a chuckle but didn't correct himself.
“Brandon?” I started, then shifted my focus from the stars to find him watching me intently. “How much do you know about me?”
His mouth twitched as he carefully considered my question. “I know the circumstances of your case, and that you were incarcerated for eleven months without bail.”
“Do you think I did it maliciously?” I whispered.
Brandon tilted his head. “That’s not for me to speculate on, Louisiana. However, I’d put a confident bet on the fact that most parolees who come here are indeed guilty as charged.”
Disappointment and offense tightened my tone. “So why do you open your home up to convicted felons?”
I understood that Brandon was a kind-hearted guy, but I was still skeptical about his motives.
He swiped a hand over his mouth and chin, then let out a heavy sigh. “I believe in second-chances, darlin’. And I know I’m not meant to be calling you darlin’, but it’s a habit.”
The shrug, then cheeky flash of his grin made my stomach flip.
The peaceful night created a pull between us, and just for the briefest time, I wasn’t a parolee bound by a contract for getting released early on good behavior.
My eyes dropped to Brandon’s lips when he licked the lower one, and despite the trickle of need that began to weave through me, I tore my attention away and stared into the night again before I did something I would regret.
Brandon
The look on Louisiana’s face broke my heart. I could see the thoughts play out over her face—the night doing little to disguise her despair. She was hurting being out here.
Her case file had been comprehensive and contained information I wouldn’t discuss until Louisiana broached the subject herself. I’d read enough to know that she wouldn’t open up about her biggest heartache until she trusted me. And until then, I would respect her privacy. But still, her heavy sigh and the way her mouth trembled while she thought I couldn’t see it… Jesus, it made my chest burn.
It took a whole lot of willpower not to enter her room earlier tonight when I saw her sitting in her room window. My steps had faltered, and I found myself staring up at her, transfixed by both her beauty and her sorrow.
“Brandon?”
I turned to the whisper of my name. “Yeah, Louisiana?”
“I never said thank you… for giving me this opportunity. It means so much…”
“I know, darlin’.”
She narrowed her eyes and stared hard while trying to decipher the hidden meaning behind my words. Eventually, she broke our connection and stood abruptly.
“I think I’m ready to head back to bed.”
Swallowing down the tension that built in my throat, I rose with her and held the house door open. Louisiana was at the stairs by the time I locked the door, and I followed her blanket-shrouded form as she ascended. She paused at her bedroom and looked back over her shoulder as I reached the landing.
“Goodnight, Brandon.”
“Goodnight, Louisiana. Sleep well.”
A scoff sounded in the dim light as she edged the door closed, and I stood there without moving, feeling like I should have been doing something more for her.
Only when the door quietly clicked closed did I make my way to my room. Sleep wouldn’t come while Louisiana consumed my head. From one moment to the next I fluctuated between trying to keep a hold of her lingering scent and warmth from her sitting close outside, then cursing myself for finding my thoughts wandering in her direction more than strictly necessary. It crossed too many boundaries to be wondering if her eyes were open or closed, or what position she slept in. Hell—what she was wearing.
With a frustrated groan, I rolled and buried my head under the pillow. Surely Louisiana wouldn’t be as alluring in the morning…
~*~
“Mornin’ boss,” Jake grumbled as he entered the kitchen, just after dawn as per usual. “Sleep well?”
I scoffed and shoved another forkful of scrambled eggs into my mouth. “At a guess, I got a solid four hours.”
Surprise lifted his brows, and he kept one cocked. “What the fuck were you doin’ all night?”
Setting my fork down, I lightly massaged my temples. “I heard Louisiana go outside at two, so I followed.” I grimaced at how creepy that sounded.
Jake shook his head while making a coffee. “So much for bein’ chill.” A snigger followed the murmured remark, and I glared while chewing down the last of my breakfast.
It wasn’t like me to get riled up over some gentle ribbing, but Christ, Jake was irritating me like sand in the asscrack. I all but tossed my plate and cutlery into the dishwasher, then left him to eat while I let the dogs out.
The closed curtains of Louisiana’s bedroom window taunted me and dared me to take a second glance as I passed. Resisting the urge, I kept my eyes forward to deliberately avoid hoping to catch a glimpse of her pretty face peering down at me again. She was probably still asleep anyway—at least, I hoped she was because we had a big day ahead of us and she was going to need all the energy she could get. I planned to get her in the saddle, and I had a feeling it wasn’t going to be an easy task.
When I got back to the house, I found Jake casually leaning against the kitchen bench talking to Louisiana as she made a hot drink.
While I mentally tsked at the fact she was wearing the itty-bitty shorts again, I tried to hide the amused smirk that wove itself onto my mouth. I was positive I hadn’t encountered the ‘real’ Louisiana yet—aside from her telling me not to call her Ma’am, she hadn’t given me much attitude. Today would test that theory.
“End up sleeping okay?” I asked Louisiana after composing myself.
“It was okay,” she replied. The bags under her eyes told me otherwise.
“So, what’s the plan for today?” she asked with renewed life in her voice.
Jake sniggered into his mug, already knowing what lay ahead. I gave him a quick glare, then softened my expression on the pretty blond.
“This morning Rory is taking you into town to go shopping.”
Louisiana’s curiosity piqued. “For just the morning?”
Jake weighed in. “One morning with Rory is all y’all need, jailbird. Trust me. I’ve been shopping w
ith her before and fuck me. One morning was enough to leave me cowering.”
Full-bodied laughter filled the kitchen, and true happiness briefly made Louisiana's blue eyes come to life.
“Surely she can’t be that bad,” she scoffed.
I shrugged. She really could be, but I didn’t want to put Louisiana off my sister before she met her.
“Power shopping is her specialty. Mostly because she hates shopping,” I explained.
Louisiana's gaze bored into mine as if having a secret conversation with herself. Finally, she squared her shoulders and got a little attitude.
“I still don’t think I need new clothes.”
Jake chuckled and threw up his hands. “I’ll leave you to deal with this, boss.” He smirked on his way past, knowing he was skipping out on a pending argument.
His departure somehow emphasized my awareness of Louisiana and shone a spotlight on the fact that she and I were alone in the same space.
Christ, I internally cursed.
“Louisiana, you can argue until you’re blue in the face, but I’m telling you now, darlin’, you’ll be needing jeans and boots before the day’s out.”
An edge entered her expression as she jutted out her chin. “And I’m telling you that I won’t.”
I crossed my arms over my chest and deadpanned, “Humor me.”
“Fine,” Louisiana declared. “I’ll humor you just to get you off my back.”
“Good.”
“Great,” she retorted.
The fire in her eyes lit a little somethin’ inside of me, and I tilted my head down to look at her from under my brows.
Frustration in my veins was at odds with the amusement. However, those two emotions I could ignore. What I couldn't ignore was the instant need that burst to life in the pit of my stomach. At that moment, I was at war with my morals and my desire to get a little filthy with her.
Visions of the tender skin of her inner thigh rubbing against the saddle caused my throat to grow tight. Somehow the thought morphed into what it would be like nested between her legs, tasting her, feeling her writhe under my weight, and inhaling each gasp as it left her parted lips.
I’d had my respectable share of women in the past, but never before had I been dry-mouthed with greed for one, nor brazen enough to let those thoughts show.
Louisiana’s elevated breathing brought back my awareness, and I almost staggered from the sexual tension rolling between us. I knew she felt it; a look like that wasn’t present in a woman’s eyes when she wasn’t wickedly turned on.
“Fuck,” I hissed and ran a hand over my face as clarity returned. “Louisiana, I’m-”
“It’s okay,” she said, breathy enough to almost crack my composure all over again. “How long have we got?”
My jaw hit the floor. “Pard’n?”
A flush washed over her cheeks when she realized that her question sounded like a very tempting proposition. “Oh.” The nervous tinkle of her laughter flowed around me before she hastily explained herself. “I meant, how long have I got before Rory arrives?”
I coughed away my embarrassment over the misunderstanding and flicked my wristwatch. “Half an hour or so. She'll bring you back at lunchtime and this afternoon you'll get stuck into what I showed you yesterday. Also, I’d like to get you in the saddle.”
Louisiana balked. “I told you yesterday that that ain’t happening.”
And here we were, back to facing-off. “And I told you yesterday that it was. You know what?” I added with a wave of my hand. “It’s semantics that I don’t have time for.”
Coffee in hand, Louisiana wordlessly pushed past and strode from the room. Moments later, her heavy footfall sounded on the stairs as she headed for her room.
Cursing myself all over again, I slapped my Stetson on my head and headed out into the yard. Jake’s smirk met me in the barn.
“You’re lookin’ a little ruffled, boss.”
“Shut the hell up.” With a growl, I dragged a hand over my face. “I don’t know where my head’s at, ya know?”
He let out a burst of deep laughter. “It’s down south, brother.”
Flipping him off, I opened the second barn door and hooked it back. “She’s sure as hell got me confused,” I confessed.
Jake shook his head and hummed. “Bitches be, Bran. Bitches be.”
“That literally explains nothing.”
He gave me a wry look and smirked. “Yet everything.”
What was up with everyone today?
When I heard the distinct sound of tires on gravel, I only hoped that Rory would bring some sense of normality with her.
Sure enough, I exited the barn to see her drive into the yard at an excessive speed, then slam on the brakes. As a result, a large dust cloud engulfed the front porch—no doubt sending particles streaming through the screen door to settle across all the surfaces of my lounge and hallway—again. I marched toward my sister with my teeth clenched and fists balled at my sides.
“Morning brother,” Rory sang as she stepped from her pickup.
“Rory, how many times! You have no idea of the amount of dust that kicks up and sends inside.”
A sinister grin broke out on her face. “Don’t I?”
Grumbling under my breath and choosing to otherwise ignore the taunt, I leaned my ass against her truck bumper and brought her up to speed.
“Make sure she gets some damn boots, jeans, and shirts. Nothin' skimpy," I emphasized as flashbacks of Louisiana’s smooth thighs ruthlessly sprang to mind.
Rory’s attention flicked up and over my shoulder, then filled with curiosity. I resisted the urge to turn and follow my sister’s line of sight, already knowing exactly what she was eyeballing. Or whom.
“She’s watching, isn’t she?”
“Yup.” Rory’s hazel eyes flicked to mine. “She’s pretty, Bran.”
My pulse jumped uncontrollably while I tried to appear nonchalant on the outside. “Ya reckon?”
“Blond…” Rory mused out loud. “Good thing those aren’t your type, ay big brother.” Her light laughter caused me to duck my head and inspect the toes of my boots, just in case my expression gave away the secret.
“Oh, I think she’s coming down! I’ve been lookin’ forward to meeting her. Louisiana, isn’t it?”
I spun and followed my sister, hurrying up the front steps. “It is. And just calm your rush, will ya.”
As per usual, my sister pulled open the screen door with an excessive force that sent it slamming against the external cladding.
“Jesus, Rory. Stop bein’ so damn rough!”
“Rough?” Her brows scrunched in the middle. “I wasn’t bein’ rough—I’m excited!”
Muttering under my breath again and removing my hat, my back snapped ramrod straight when Louisiana’s long, bare legs appeared through the banister of the stairs.
I averted my eyes until she fully came into view, but even then I couldn’t help but cast a quick appreciative gaze over her entire length. Luckily for me, her attention was honed onto my sister instead of my lack of professionalism.
The two women faced-off about four strides apart, and I physically felt the air shift.
“Rory,” I warned. “This is Louisiana Carlyle. Louisiana, this is my sister Rory.”
They were apples n’ oranges side-by-side. Louisiana had height on Rory, while Rory had curves that had the local boys stealing a second and third glance when she passed. Rore’s dark brown hair was tightly braided down the back of her head, whereas Louisiana’s blond locks hung freely around her shoulders as if daring me to suggest that she tie them up.
I exhaled the breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding when my sister finally extended her hand.
“Nice to meet you. I hope you’re ready to spend some money. Bran tells me we’ve a lot to get today.”
Louisiana snorted. “Did he bang on about boots and jeans?” she asked in a tone that clearly moc
ked my request.
Rory sniggered. “He did. Nothin’ out the norm there. C’mon, let's head out. It’s almost an hour into town and we’ll need an early start.”
“Remind me that I need to get lipgloss. That’s if I’m allowed to use it out here?” Louisiana snipped and arched a brow at me.
I gaped between the two of them as Rory threw her head back in laughter. “Ooh girl, ain’t no taming you.”
Rory led the way out the door, and Louisiana gave me the side-eye as well as a triumphant smirk on her way past.
It would keep; we’ll see how much she smirked when she was in the saddle for the first time.
Brandon
A cow having trouble birthing kept Jake and I busy the entire morning, and by the time we got back to the house for lunch, Rory and Louisiana were back from their shopping trip—glossed lips and all.
Louisiana's pretty pout instantly drew my attention to her mouth, and I decided on the spot that I liked her wearing a little gloss. Besides, it would stop her lips from getting chapped from the outdoor elements.
“And you thought we would be back late,” Rory sassed as we all took a seat around the dining table.
I gave her a dirty look. “Calving trouble. Could have used your assistance.”
She scoffed. “Well, I’m glad I was shoppin’.”
Louisiana divided curious looks between me and Rory. “What assistance is that?”
I lifted my arm and flexed my fingers. “Getting the calf into the right position to be birthed.”
Her face contorted into blatant repulsion. “Argh. That’s disgusting!”
Biting down on my laugh did nothing to stop it from escaping. I shook my head while making a sandwich, all the while smiling at the lingering memory of Louisiana’s expression.
“Normally I’m the one elbow deep because I’ve got smaller hands,” Rory explained as if this topic was totally appropriate to discuss over lunch; to us, it was.
Louisiana blanched. “Okay, we need to change the subject. It’s putting me off my food!”
Jake sniggered under his breath, choosing that moment to add an inappropriate comment. “It’s unbelievably warm inside-”