Special Cowboy Menage Collection

by Morgan Ashbury

  “I want to believe that. I want to believe that somehow I deserve to be here with the two of you. But that’s not how it feels.”

  “Believe it,” Grant said as he approached. He sent Jesse a slight nod, then stroked his finger down Annie’s face. “Life isn’t about penalties and punishments, sweetheart. It’s about living and loving and laughing. And we all deserve every good thing, and every bit of love we can grab.”

  Annie looked from Grant to him. Her expression had cleared, the self-reproach he’d seen in her eyes replaced now by something so soft, it warmed his heart.

  “Every time we’re together, it seems you’re spoiling me, taking care of me. Your kindnesses wow me, and your tenderness melts me. I never expected anything like this. I never expected you. What am I going to do with you two?”

  “Oh, well, that’s easy. You’re going to go riding with us,” Jesse said.

  “After which you’re going to eat lunch with us,” Grant added.

  “And then we’re going to eat you.”

  It was a completely satisfying way to answer her. Annie’s face turned crimson and her words seemed to have run away from her, because all she could do was laugh and sputter.

  “The pink on your cheeks suits you. Gives you a very healthy glow.” Jesse bit the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing.

  “It’s not the blush that’s giving me a glow. It’s all the riding I’ve been doing lately. I’m starting to feel right at home in the saddle. Just gets a little tiring always remembering knees in and heels down.”

  He looked over at Grant, his grin as wide as his friend’s. Then they both burst out laughing. He hooked his arm around Annie, hugged her tight as all three finished their walk to the barn. “Now, if that’s a complaint, Annie, you know we’re more than happy to let you ride double.”

  “Or better yet just lay back and let us do all the work,” Grant said.

  “After all,” Jesse beamed, “our state’s motto is ‘Equal Rights’.”

  “Huh,” Annie huffed just before she gave them a laughing smile.

  Her eyes were sparkling with good humor, and that was a whole hell of a lot easier to look at than her expression of self-loathing.

  “And here I thought it was ‘Save a horse, ride a cowboy’.”

  “Maybe you could take up a petition, present it to the state legislature,” Grant suggested. “Who knows, with the progressive history Wyoming has, they might just adopt it.”

  “Maybe I will.”

  Jesse pulled the door open, the familiar scents of hay and horse wafting out as warm summer breeze blew in. He watched as Annie went right over to her horse, greeting the filly with soft words, a softer touch, and a piece of apple she’d filched from the fridge.

  The words she’d spoken earlier about him and Grant finding wives came back to him. Maybe it wasn’t too soon to show their own little filly a particular plot of land.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Never count on a loose cannon being predictable.

  Billy had long ago taught himself how to chill out, cool off, and wait. Not a patient man by nature, it had taken him some time to master that particular skill. Yet every once in a while, he developed a sense way down deep, a kind of shivery certainty that logic couldn’t shake, that patience was not only undesirable, but dangerous.

  That feeling began to blossom inside him as he drifted off to sleep the night before, and by mid morning, it had become a throbbing presence in his psyche. As he looked out over Main Street from his apartment atop his fix-it shop, he realized he’d left a couple of bases uncovered.

  He’d followed Rutherford to the Super 8 just off I-80 outside Laramie, satisfied the man would remain there for the night, confident everything and everyone was where they belonged for the moment.

  He reasoned he’d have time to line all his ducks in a row, but there was one thing he hadn’t done.

  Shit. It wasn’t yet noon. If he headed out, there was no guarantee he’d be able to take care of that one detail.

  Turning away from the window, he went to his bed and pulled the black case out from under it. Inside, there were handy little technological gadgets, though not nearly as many as there had been before he’d set foot in Branchton. This job has cost me a fortune.

  Needing to remind himself of the reason he’d spent that fortune, he sat down at his computer, clicked on a bookmarked site.

  They said the necklace was so delicate, so beautiful, it must have been created by the gods. Featuring fifty of the most exquisite tear-drop diamonds cut by ancient hands, delicate gold strands and settings, the necklace known as Aphrodite’s Tears shimmered in the one photograph taken of it in modern times, for the auction at Sotheby’s where it was purchased by billionaire industrialist and sometime-diplomat Algernon Piers. He presented it as a twenty-fifth wedding anniversary gift to his wife, Gladys Hamilton Piers. The couple had hosted a lavish party at their Park Avenue penthouse to mark the occasion, where they received well wishes and gifts and, apparently, a first-class surveillance. Two days later, the penthouse was broken into and the necklace stolen.

  That had been three years ago.

  There’d been no sign of the necklace since. Algernon—who was nobody’s fool—had made sure the expensive bauble had been properly appraised and insured before presenting it to his beloved wife. He collected a tidy ten million dollars from Lloyd’s of London as consolation for his loss.

  Billy had no idea whether Mrs. Piers had been gifted with that money, or not.

  The necklace’s value, if indeed it was still intact, had only increased despite the current economic downturn. He’d listened to rumors, of course, and the gossip that traveled the circles that wound just under the veneer of polite society. Smart man’s money was on the stones having been removed and moved, the gold melted down and sold.

  He believed the necklace was intact.

  Billy sighed. He really wanted that necklace. He entertained a fleeting image of his mother draped in Aphrodite’s Tears, likely paired with her classic black Dior.

  Then he laughed. He loved his mother, but not that much.

  His gaze flicked to the bottom right of his computer screen. Time had a disgusting habit of marching on, even when it would be more convenient all around if it would just chill for a few. Billy logged off the computer then spun his chair around.

  He tried not to wince as he took the five thousand dollar GPS tracker out of his case. Thank God he had his friend Nigel, who could supply underground and often illegal equipment in exchange for cash. So he’d be able to replace this beauty, as he had the uncomfortable feeling he might not get it back.

  He removed the rest of what he needed, preparing to be on his way. The sound of his cell phone blaring out Coldplay’s Viva La Vida stopped him in his tracks.

  That ring tone belonged to only one caller, an old friend who’d become a cop. His very own deep throat—sort of.

  “Yes?”

  “I thought you’d like to know there’s been a search requested through NCIC. Whoever asked for the information must have some favors owed, because the Bureau has put out feelers looking for Rutherford.”

  “He was serving time in the state minimum security. How’d he end up with the Feds tracking him?”

  “Logically, someone in the Bureau must have had their eye on him.”

  Billy rubbed his chin. “Fuck, do you think he was into shit we don’t know about?”

  “Your guess is as good as mine. All indications to date are that he’s a two-bit player who just happened to hit it lucky with the Piers heist. No one could possibly believe he’s smart enough to have planned it.”

  “No.” But having him entered into the NCIC raised the game to a whole new level.

  “Do you have any idea who requested the info?”

  “No, but I’ll find out. Watch yourself. There could be another player you don’t know about.”

  “Thanks for the heads up.”

  “Hey, that’s what partners are for.”
>
  Billy closed his phone. Partners. He didn’t think so. The way he saw it, he’d been the one to do all the work. He should be the one to reap the rewards.

  Shaking his head to dispel useless thoughts, he checked to see he had all he needed. Things had just potentially gotten more complicated, which was the last thing he needed. But that internal alarm also just got a bit louder.

  He had the feeling he didn’t have a moment to spare.

  * * * *

  Annie loved riding with her men almost as much as she loved having sex with them. She enjoyed their easy moods, their senses of humor. She enjoyed talking with them, exchanging ideas about anything and everything.

  She also loved her horse. Razzmatazz seemed the perfect name for the mare. Her coat gleamed shiny blond, and sometimes, when Annie spoke to her, the horse would almost prance, as if she were a Hollywood starlet—or a Las Vegas show girl.

  Those emotions were notable enough, and her heart felt fuller than it ever had. But the most surprising thing of all was that Annie had fallen in love with the land.

  She’d grown up on the edge of a large city, and then moved to the largest city in the eastern United States. She’d never felt any desire to get away from the urban sprawl and concrete jungle, had been perfectly happy where she’d been planted for most of her life.

  Her westward migration had been brought on by grief, by her desire to start fresh, and it had been a matter of pure luck she’d landed in Branchton, Wyoming. She’d never camped, never done anything that could be considered even remotely ‘outdoorsy’.

  Yet she was falling in love with the land. Falling in love, period. She shoved that last thought away. She could not, would not fall in love. Being in lust was enough, and more than she dreamed possible just one year ago.

  The Medicine Bow Mountains rose up in the west, and Annie couldn’t help being moved by them. Used to towers of cement and steel, Mother Nature’s skyscrapers seemed grander, almost spiritual. Used to an abundance of trees, the grasslands at first seemed strange and barren. Yet now, as she rode with her lovers across their land, as they came upon the streams and creeks that flowed and bubbled, she appreciated the grasses, flowers, and trees that lined those natural waterways.

  For the past few minutes, the men led the way, side by side. Following, she felt free to admire them. Talk about Mother Nature’s masterpieces. Each possessed unique qualities. Each had found different ways to endear himself to her. Looking at them now, fresh from their bed, she honestly couldn’t say that she cared more for one than the other.

  She loved them equally.

  She loved them. Closing her eyes for a moment, she allowed herself to revel in the truth. Yes, she did love them, and that was a miracle. But she wouldn’t look to the future. She would only take each day as it came. Eventually, they would move on. But until then, she would enjoy them.

  Grant turned in his saddle, looked at her. “Jesse and I have something we want to show you.”

  “Alright.”

  She nudged Razzamatazz forward, and when her men maneuvered their horses to make room for her between them, that’s where she planted herself.

  “This is the line where our ranches join,” Jesse said, leaning forward on the saddle horn. He met her gaze, then looked again at the land. “In this area, we took down the fence when we decided to merge our operations. This spot right here was where we were when we made the decision to form a single company. This also used to be our favorite camp-out area.”

  Annie didn’t know much about camping out, but she thought she understood why the area would have appealed to them. Before her lay what appeared to be an open meadow, fairly flat, with lots of nice long grass. Ringing the meadow were trees. A couple of evergreens, of course, but closer to the stream she recognized Rocky Mountain maple, and her newly favorite tree, peachleaf willow. For the camper, there’d be water, shade, and relatively soft ground to sleep on.

  “Since we were old enough to ride off on our own, whenever one of us was pissed, or needed space, this was where we’d come,” Grant took over. Annie heard pleasant memories in his tone. “And on those few occasions we snuck out late at night, here was where we’d meet up.”

  “Your lands have many pretty spots,” Annie said. “I like this one. Not just its appearance, but what it stands for. Thank you for showing it to me.”

  There must be something more they wanted to say, because they looked at each other and seemed to come to some sort of unspoken agreement.

  “It may not seem like it, because of the back and forth path we’ve been riding for the last hour, but the county road is due west of this spot, about a quarter of a mile. In fact, if we ride to the crest of that little hill over there, you can see it.”

  Puzzled by a strange, almost hopeful note in Jesse’s voice, Annie cocked her head.

  “So it wouldn’t be very expensive to have materials trucked in. Jesse and I are both really good with our hands.”

  “I noticed.”

  The men laughed, and it seemed the laughter cut through their nerves. Annie had no idea what they’d become uptight about. She gave them an encouraging smile.

  “What Grant meant was that we’re both good at building things. We also know people who could come in and lend us a hand. It’ll take us most of the fall and probably into the spring to finish it, of course. But by this time next year, it should be ready.”

  They were both smiling at her, waiting for her reaction. Excitement hovered between them. She hated to disappoint them by not sharing that excitement. She must have missed something, because she didn’t have a clue what they were talking about.

  “What should be ready by this time next year?”

  “Your new house. Well, our house, actually. A place where the three of us can live together,” Jesse said.

  “You want to build me a house?”

  “Yes, we do,” Grant confirmed.

  “But…why?”

  The men looked at each other for a long moment. Finally, Jesse turned his horse around so that he faced her.

  “Because we love you. We want to live with you. Not just for an overnight here and there, but for every night. What you said about us eventually falling in love, getting married? We’ve both already fallen in love. With you.”

  “You’re it for us,” Grant said. “We want to live here with you and build a life with you. Out here, right here, in this spot that means so much to us both.”

  Annie shook her head, not certain she heard them correctly. Their smiles told her she had. Shock roiled within her and she blurted out the first thing that came to mind. “The three of us can’t live together!”

  “Sure we can if we want to. Besides, Wyoming is a very progressive state,” Jesse said.

  “Not progressive enough to turn its back on three people in a ménage relationship openly living together!” Annie had never heard of anything so preposterous in her life. It was one thing for them to carry on this affair in private. Yeah, one woman, two men, that was a bit out there. But she figured what the three of them did in private behind closed doors was no one’s business but their own.

  “We Wyomingites are a forward-thinking people,” Jesse replied calmly.

  “We are,” Grant agreed. “Forward-thinking is in our history. Why, when the Wyoming territory was organized in 1869, Wyoming women were the first in the entire nation to vote.”

  “Wyoming elected the first female governor in the nation, too, in 1925,” Jesse said.

  “And the only place in these United States that has a statue erected to a prostitute is right here in Wyoming.”

  Annie’s laugher exploded from her. “You made that last one up!”

  Jesse laughed and Grant blushed. Then he shook his head. “No, honey, I didn’t. But maybe I could have chosen a better example.”

  “The thing is,” Jesse said, his laughter gone, “we want you and we want to live with you. Make a family with you.”

  Annie shook her head slowly. Her throat stung, the backs of
her eyes itched, and the sight of her men blurred before her.

  All she’d ever wanted, all she’d ever dreamed of, was what Jesse and Grant were offering her right here, right now. She would give three decades off her life to go back, undo the mistakes she had made, then come forward. They offered her that dream, but it was too late for her. Making a family with the men she loved was the one thing she could never do.

  “No.” She swallowed hard, vowing not to cry. “I can’t. I can’t make a family with you. I can’t make a family with anyone.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  One appetite fed, one to go.

  Rick Rutherford rubbed his belly as he exited the restaurant just down the street from his motel. Maybe going back for a fourth plate of food had been a mistake, but hell, the all-you-can-eat Sunday brunch buffet was too good to pass up. A couple of years of eating nothing but prison food with puny portions made a man eager to just stuff himself when the opportunity arose.

  Now that one craving had been satisfied, it was time to do something about the other. It wouldn’t take long to drive to that pissant little town Annie had run off to. Only two things he needed to decide, and that was what time he should go there and whether he would fuck her before he collected his stuff, or after.

  Decisions, decisions.

  He snickered as he walked across the restaurant parking lot. He’d go back to the room, shove his stuff back into that single duffel bag he’d brought. That would take maybe a minute. He’d find himself a mall, pick up some cologne. He was going courting—that image made him snicker again— the least he could do was smell good. Then he’d put this town behind him. He figured he and Annie could spend a nice Sunday evening having their reunion. Yeah, it would probably be best to wait until sundown to announce his presence. Her store wasn’t open on Sunday anyway, but still, it would be a good idea to wait for the sun to set. Most folks would be at home then, less chance of anyone stopping by, interrupting them.