by BA Tortuga
“Why? I mean, I’m not into anyone else.” She was fucking focused, even.
Cotton stared at the road, chewing his lip like he was trying to decide how to say it. “A girl don’t have to look at no one else for her man to be jealous. Other men just have to look at her.”
“Yeah?” She let her hand pet Cotton’s leg, slow and easy. “Boys are weird.”
“Uh-huh. I seen girls tear each other hair out for peering at another one’s man, with him not even giving two shits.”
“Shit, baby. I’ve seen girls tear each other up for wearing the same shoes to the same party.” Boys were weird—girls were vicious.
“Yup.” They were starting to get into the outskirts of Houston, and Cotton was already looking a little wild-eyed. He’d told her how much he didn’t love the place.
“You’re doing good.” She kept touching. “My brothers are going to love you.”
“You think? They won’t try to kick my ass?” Muscles shifted under her touch.
“They’re lawyers. They don’t do that. They threaten litigation.”
“Oh, right. Well, I’m broke dick, so they can’t get me.” Cotton jerked a little when her hand moved high on his thigh.
“Oh, now…” She chuckled, tickled. “I happen to know, from personal experience, that your dick is far from broken.”
His cheeks heated up for her, almost as red as his hair. “No, now that is working just fine for you.”
“Uh-huh. In fact, that whole part of things rocks my world, baby.” She liked sex and she loved Cotton. Making love with Cotton was just…wow.
“Me, too.” One eyebrow went up and down. “It ranks right up there with watching you eat a steak.”
That was weirdly hot, knowing that Cotton liked that. “What can I say? Sometimes meat breath isn’t a bad thing.”
“Nope. Sometimes it’s good.” Cotton straightened up a little. “So, where am I heading, honey?”
“Downtown. They’re in the middle of everything.” She typed in the address on Cotton’s GPS, let it lead them around the clover leafs with their ‘beware of trucks falling over’ signs.
“Lord.” Cotton was all tense around the mouth. Somehow, the idea that the traffic made him nervous made her feel better, not worse. As if he’d be more careful since he was freaked.
“I hate Houston.” She always had. Always.
“Yeah. It’s huge and stinky, and we don’t have the best history here.” Cotton grabbed her hand and squeezed.
“No. No, we don’t.” She sighed, chewed her bottom lip a little. “You know… I’ll be careful, if you need me to. Hide the ink and stuff in public.”
“What?” His brows went up, and he actually stared at her for a full second or two. “Honey, that wasn’t what I meant.”
“I know, but… Jeff grew up where you did, kind of, and he says that a girl like me is going to end up costing you money, sponsors, fans.”
“What?” Cotton snorted. “No way no meat boy is from my part of the world.”
“He says he’s from Decatur.”
“No shit? Well, he must have been the kid that everyone pounded on in high school.” Cotton squeezed her hand again, which was brave, considering that they had just gained two lanes. “Honey, if my sponsors don’t like it, I can go back to rodeo and be small time. The money is in the breeding, now, and all they care about there is the bull bloodlines.”
“But…that’s not fair to you.”
“Shit, honey, we need to talk about your priorities.” Cotton laughed, sounding genuinely tickled. “If you was working somewhere that supported PETA or Shark or something, you’d have problems with having a rodeo man as a lover, right? Would you expect me to wear pussy shoes and designer jeans?”
She stared at him, blinked. “No, baby. I’d tell them to kiss my ass. You’re mine, and I’m proud of you.”
“Well, there you go. Don’t let one stupid mistake on my part scar you for life, huh?” Cotton checked his watch again, then hit his blinker, heading for the off ramp and the closest parking lot. When they glided to a stop, he reached over to pull her arm, tugging until she was right there. Then he kissed her.
“Oh…” She moaned, the sudden fire surprising her.
Cotton kissed her, ignoring the honking of a Toyota that went by, ignoring the hooting of the kids walking on the sidewalk. He kissed her silly, until she could barely breathe.
“Baby…” She saw stars and she held on tight.
“I love you. Got it?” He said it against her mouth, making each word count.
“Uh-huh.” She did, soul deep. “Your girl.”
“That’s it. My girl.” He kissed her again before smiling against her lips. “Now, let’s go let your brothers try to scare me off.”
“Not going to happen.”
She was way scarier than the boys.
* * * *
Coffee. With Emmy’s brothers. Who were twins, which was a little freaky.
It was hard to know who was frowning at him, when they looked the same. Like, really. Really. They weren’t nothing like Emmy, either. She was short and curvy—they were super tall and gangly. They were suits, and she was hot as a firecracker. Emily was at the counter, ordering another round of coffee, laughing with the girl at the bar, and the twins were…staring.
“So…you’re taking her to New Orleans?”
“Yes, sir.” Cotton tried not to jitter. His momma always said that was a sign of dishonest intentions.
“Where are you staying?” That was from the other brother.
“In the Quarter. The, uh, Place d’Armes.” When Packer had told him about it, he’d talked to Landon—on account of the fact that the man was a Cajun—and Landon had said it was real nice. Had a pool and everything. Not too many haints. Bayou folk actually said words like haints.
“That’s a decent place,” one said.
The other one nodded. “It is. Are you going to leave her there? Because Thom and I are…”
“…taking the kids to Corpus for the weekend.”
Wow.
That was confusing.
“Whut?” Cotton cleared his throat. “Why would I leave her there?”
“Well, sir, the last time you two had an…”
“…experience. Terry ended up leaving a business dinner and picking her up.”
“And Thom spent the weekend listening to her cry.”
Cotton started feel a little panic rise. He was in Houston, in a froufy coffee bar and Emmy was never coming back. “Well, I didn’t…” Okay, he had walked off with that girl. Cotton shook his head. Damn.
“Boys, quit being assholes.” Em came and handed him a thankfully not-froufy coffee. “We’re going to New Orleans. We’re going to have a ball. He’s going to ride, and we’re going to have a blast. And when he leaves, I’m going with him. No tag teaming my cowboy.”
Oh, thank God. Cotton smiled at her with genuine gratitude. Who knew lawyers was so scary?
“We just worry, Emily.”
“I know, but I’m good. Now, be nice. Drink your coffee and admit that you’re incredibly jealous that he gets to ride bulls.”
One of the twins arched an eyebrow, while the other grinned and looked suddenly young.
Dude. That was a way in, at least. “Y’all should come to an event. I’ll get you a behind the chutes tour.”
“No shit? Emily Cecilia said that there was one in Orlando. The kids would like that.”
Em nodded. “They would, Tommy. Terry, quit scowling. You’ll get wrinkles.” Em leaned against him. “When they were little, they liked to play cowboys and Indians. I’ve seen pictures.”
“Yes, well, Emily, you liked to dress up in belly dancer outfits.”
“I still do!”
It was Cotton’s turn to raise his eyebrows. “How come I’ve never seen this? And y’all just let me know if you can come. I get tickets to the family section real cheap.”
“Because I was fat when I was dating you before.”
“If you keep drinking lattes, you’ll get fat again.” Terry poked Em in the ribs.
“You were never fat!” Cotton snapped, drumming his fingers on the table.
Em blinked at him and the Thom-brother grinned. “We can come to Florida. We’ll rent a big house. You can meet the kids.”
“Sure.” Okay, that was better than threatening him.
“So, Emily, you gonna have beignets at the Cafe du Monde?”
Em nodded. “I am. And we’re going to explore, and since Cotton isn’t a big chicken like you two turkeys, he’s going to take me on a ghost tour!”
Both brothers clucked. Together. In harmony.
“They got one where you walk part of the way and ride in a buggy part of the way.” Cotton chuckled. “Since Emmy didn’t grow up in the boonies like me, she thinks that sounds cool.”
“It does!” Emmy pinched him. “Cotton is just jealous because they drive donkeys and not horses.”
“Mules, honey. Mules.” Lord. Donkeys. That would be a sight.
“Aren’t they the same thing?” Jesus, that was cute.
“No. Donkeys are the little gray fuzzy deals. Mules look like horses but for the ears.” He wasn’t gonna smile.
“Huh. Neat.” Emmy sipped her coffee, grinned at her brothers. “I’m excited, either way.”
“Well, good. Just be careful of pickpockets…”
“And those tarot people.”
“And the buskers.”
“Lock your doors.”
“And stay with Cotton.”
Jesus, no wonder Em was nervous.
“I got her back, boys.” He let his fingers graze her shoulder. “I promise.”
Emmy’s cheeks heated. “We’re going to be fine.”
The twins stared back and forth between him and Emmy before grinning huge. Identical Cheshire Cat grins. Creepy.
Em didn’t seem to think so, though. She leaned over, kissed one, then the other. “I’m going to hit the little girl’s room before we go. Be nice.”
“Yes, Emily Cecilia.” That together-talking thing was fucked up.
Cotton sat there, not wilting. No, sir. He was upright, damn it.
“She really loves you.” He thought that was Thom.
“Are you going to marry her?” That was definitely Terry.
“I been thinking on it, yeah.” Cotton set his jaw. “I ain’t gonna ask her until we work some stuff out, though. She’s got to know I won’t do her dirty, or it won’t work.
They both nodded, and Terry met his eyes, so serious. “She’s not as wild as she looks, but I guess you know that.”
“I do, actually.” Emmy was this amazing mixture of adventurous and conservative. She was also his.
“You make her cry like that again, man, we will make your life a living hell.”
“Well, that’s your job.” Threats like that he understood. He’d do it for Ali.
Thom nodded. “It is. You must have a baby sister.”
“I do. She makes me crazy, but any man who hurts her had better watch himself. Real close.”
Terry smiled. “Yeah. She’s our Emily.”
“We get that.”
Cotton nodded, finally reaching out to take a sip of his coffee. They were her brothers, and lawyers or not, they understood what that meant. He could respect the hell out of that.
Warm, soft hands landed on his shoulders. “You about ready to go, baby? We want to be out of here before rush hour.”
“I am!” He hopped up, grabbing his hat. “We need to get on if we’re gonna make Landon’s.”
“Cotton and I are having supper at a friend’s.” Em kissed each brother on the cheek. “Love you both.”
“It was nice to finally meet y’all.” Nicer still to be hitting the road. “We’ll see you in Orlando.”
“We’ll be there. Have fun, Emily,” one said.
The other nodded. “Call us if you need us.”
“I won’t, but thanks. Love you!” Em slid her hand into the crook of his arm, perfect as you please.
They headed out, Emmy waving to the twins, both of them waving in eerie concert. “Well. That went well, huh?”
“I think so. They’re good brothers. My coffee was sort of marginal, though. What did you think of them?”
“They’re a little creepy.” He grinned, patting her butt. “But they sure do love you.”
“You’ll get used to it, and yeah. They do.” She pinked up so pretty.
“I will. Just like Ali will come around to you. Eventually.” Maybe when she was twenty-five.
“When she’s old and fat, maybe, and if she’s like your mom, that’s not going to happen.” Emmy shrugged, let him open the door. “I’m not what she thinks you deserve.”
“You’re better than what I deserve, honey.” He kissed her before he handed her up into the truck, tasting the weird coffee stuff she liked.
“Well, I’m what you have, and I want to stay.”
“Then we’ll do, because that’s what I want, too.” He leaned up against her and kissed her again, happy as a pig in shit all of a sudden.
His girl. His sweet girl.
Cotton figured he was just going to have to keep her. Period.
Chapter Twenty-Two
“Oooeee! Lookit you, girl! Ain’t you something?”
Em blinked over at Cotton, then at the tiny little dark Cajun coming across the yard. “Landon?”
“Sissy! Sissy-gal, you gotta come see Cotton’s woman! She’s fierce!”
Cotton chuckled, hand on the small of her back. “Landon. I told you he was Cajun, right?”
“Uh-huh. Wow.” She chuckled as another one—a girl in the tiniest little Daisy Dukes and a flannel shirt tied around her waist—came out on the porch.
“Hey, y’all! Cotton! You brought her!” The girl headed toward them, smiling hugely. “Oh, girlfriend, you are so pretty! I love your hair. I hope you’re hungry. Bubba smoked us a wild pig.”
“I love pork and thank you!”
God. Talk about excess of personality. They were adorable.
“They’re twins,” Cotton murmured before going to man-hug Landon and kiss the girl’s cheek.
“You’re Emmy, huh? I heard about you. Come on in. Cotton said y’all was gonna drive on after supper, but we made up the guest room, so you didn’t have to. You want a drink?”
“God, yes. Please.”
“I’m Laurel. Lord, I ain’t normally so rude. Come on, now.” There was a big dog of some indeterminate hound mixture, all ears and long, spindly legs. It sniffed her butt and woofed when she went by.
“It’s okay. You’ve got a sweet little place.” It was old and sprawling, with a huge porch and falling down shutters.
Her brothers would be horrified.
“Thank you. It’s not much, but it’s ours, huh? The best thing is the land.” Laurel led her into a kitchen that was an explosion of spice and meat smell. Oh, God, it smelled good.
“What can I do to help?”
Laurel chuckled, waved her hand. “Nothing. It’s all ready. Sit. Tea? Water? Beer? Coke?”
“Beer, please.”
Landon and Cotton tumbled in, hooting like mad, and Landon got everyone a beer. “You see how Packer won that one-off event in California?”
Cotton grinned. “No! Good on him.”
They were such boys.
She looked over at her cowboy and smiled as they popped a top and drank deep. “No shit, even with that bad collarbone and all. He rode himself that big bitch of a bull till it screamed for mercy.”
“Well, Aussie Aussie Aussie.”
Landon nodded and hooted. “Oi, oi, oi. I hope y’all are hungry.”
“Starving.” Pulling a pitiful face, Cotton put a hand to his forehead. “We stopped for froufy coffee.”
“Lord. Girl, whatchoo doin’ with my friend? Tell me it didn’t have no whipping cream.”
“Not on mine.” Cotton inhaled deeply, his chest swelling. “Oh, that smells good.”
&
nbsp; “It does, doesn’t it?” She chuckled. “And there’s something to be said for a mocha.”
Laurel chuckled. “I like café au lait.”
“There you go.” Cotton and Landon said it together, and Emmy rolled her eyes. Lord. This was going to be such a boy thing.
“So, are you an Emily? An Emmy? Em?” Laurel seemed like she was trying, so hard.
“I… Well, my friends at home call me Auntie—you know, like Auntie Em? But I really like Emmy.” God, no one had asked in a long time.
“Emmy. So pretty.” Patting her shoulder, Laurel moved past, starting to pull plates and stuff out of cabinets.
“Can I help?”
“Sure, honey. Grab a couple-three glasses for tea.”
“Cool.” That was way better than the first answer of there’s nothing you can do. She searched until she found glasses made from Mason jars.
Cotton and Landon were head to head, going over papers, her cowboy’s red, short-cropped head contrasting with Landon’s longer black curls. It was so cute. She poured the tea, putting a glass down next to each plate. Laurel bumped hips with her on the way by.
“Can you get that basket of cornbread, honey?”
“Sure.” She winked at Laurel. “That’s the most focused I’ve seen him in days.”
“I don’t believe that a bit.” Laurel had huge, dark eyes. “He was here, when y’all were fighting. I seen him focused.”
She grabbed the basket of bread, blinking a little. Huh. Cotton, focused on her?
She looked over and he was staring right at her, green eyes sharp and bright and smiling. Yeah, okay. Maybe he was a little focused on her. Emmy ducked her head, her cheeks heating.
Laurel laughed and clapped her hands. “I told him if you liked him half as much as he did you, he was a lucky man. Looks lucky, hon.”
“Well, who wouldn’t? He’s great.” She winked over. “Even if my head’s as big as his shoulders.”
The little gal tilted her head. “What? Nah. Not even close.”
Em pinked, but shrugged. “You know…”
Laurel nodded. “Buckle bunnies are vicious twats.”
“Laurel!” Landon looked shocked.
“What? It’s the truth, and you’re as queer as a three-dollar bill, so you ain’t got no room to talk, Bubba.”