by BA Tortuga
His fist connected with Coke’s solid, square hand, the bullfighter moving faster than anything. “No, son. Once is all you get here. That’s it. Go on. Get ready to ride.”
“Yes, sir.” He gave Dillon an apologetic shrug and got a smile and nod in return. Nate clapped him on the back when he went by.
He felt like he’d passed some sort of test.
Heck, it had been a whole night of firsts, and it wasn’t near over yet.
Cotton just hoped he’d live through it.
* * * *
“Six. Seven. Eight.” She watched and whispered under her breath, watching Cotton go round and round. Laurel was right beside her, holding her hand.
“Yes!”
He jumped off and the crowd went wild.
So did she. Just a little. Okay, a lot. She hooted. That was what Laurel called it.
“You see that, girl? Your man did just fine! He’s gonna be in the money.”
“I saw!” She stood and clapped, watched him throw his hat and grin. God, he was something, and she was stupid for him.
Then he did something that left her completely speechless. He ran to the fence right in front of her, hopped up, and leaned over to smack a kiss in her direction.
The camera caught it, put it on the big screen, and Emmy just stood there, stunned.
Cotton hopped down, pumping his arms and grinning, and the crowd screamed for him again. Wow.
All the ladies were laughing, teasing her, and Emmy grinned. “Yeah, yeah.”
Tracy handed her a little dark-haired baby. She’d learned quickly that there were more babies than moms and anyone ‘in’ the club was recruited to help. Emmy just held that baby and smiled, feeling as if she was on top of the world. Only four more guys had to ride, and only three of them ended up ahead of Cotton in the scores.
The crowd headed down into the arena, and Tracy touched her shoulder. “Come on. There’s a club room where we can get away from the crowds.”
“Oh. Cool.” Last time had been bad, standing there, waiting for Cotton to notice her. She carried the baby carefully, not wanting to trip on the stairs. She could see girls—little blonde things in tiny outfits—sneering and staring, but it didn’t matter. She got it. She had what they wanted. Now that she had one, she could understand wanting one of these guys. And heck, now that she’d met a bunch of them and their families, she could understand just wanting to be around them.
Laurel had two little ones walking with her, one in each hand, and Tracy and the mom with the zillion babies led the way. There were three ladies behind that didn’t speak English, then another group of what seemed like local wives.
God, this was complicated.
Good thing she had Laurel, who seemed to be in the same boat. She didn’t really know anyone, either. Still, Tracy introduced them to everyone, including the Brazilian wives.
The cowboys started trickling in, dragging gear and grabbing families, gathering babies and kids and wives. Laurel leaned close. “Cotton and Landon are always the last.”
She laughed. Yeah, she could see that. Cotton and Landon both had an overdose of personality. They would be popular with the fans.
They were bruised and dirty, and some smelled a little like cow poo. But they were awfully sweet. Mostly. There were a couple that sorta…stared, and she knew they were talking about her job. She wasn’t gonna be embarrassed, though. It was good money.
“So, is Ace really going to hire you?” That came from an absolutely gloriously ugly in a beautiful way man with an Aussie accent. “Packer, by the way. Good friend of Cotton’s. Glad to finally meetcha.”
“Hey. I don’t know, and pleased.” She grinned, shook the man’s hand.
“Well, if he does, make him pay like it’s today and not twenty years ago.” He grinned, and she blinked. Wow.
“Oh, man. I know what I’m worth.”
“Lord, yes, and if she don’t, cher, Cotton does.” Laurel squealed as Packer scooped her up, hugged her tight.
“How are ya, girl, huh?” Packer kissed Laurel’s cheeks before setting her down.
“I’m happy, cher. You rode so good! How’s the shoulder?”
“It’s okay.” He rotated it a bit, grinning again. It changed his whole face. Cowboys were universally something, American or Aussie.
“Look at you, stealing all the pretty girls!” Landon bounced up between them, arms wrapping around Laurel’s waist, then hers. “These two are all mine.”
“I think Cotton might have something to say about that.” Laurel hugged her brother, just cackling.
“Shee-it. He don’t care if I steal his girl, do you, Boll?”
Em glanced over, met those green-green eyes that were just lit up.
“I will kick your ass, Nut-Butter.” Cotton smiled at her, punching Landon on the shoulder.
She laughed, then found herself tucked into Cotton’s side.
“Hey, lady.” He kissed her cheek, looking like he was on top of the world.
“Hey, baby. You did a fabulous job. I’m so proud.”
“Thanks!” His cheeks went pink, and all the guys laughed.
“Cotton’s never had someone to tell him that, yeah?”
She patted his butt. “Well, he’s got me, now.”
“I do. Lord, this has been a good event, huh? Who wants a beer?” Cotton bumped hips with her. “Unless you want to go get some food alone, honey.”
“I’m easy. A beer sounds great.”
“Cool.”
“I’m in.” Packer clapped Cotton on the back. “Gotta go change.”
“We’ll come, huh?” Laurel asked, and Landon nodded.
“Yo, Cotton!” Sam Bell stood at the door, Beau Lafitte at his side. Those two were famous—well, Lafitte was famous, Sam was more like a sidekick. Still, the man’d been hurt bad at the finals last year and…yeah. It’d been close. Hell, they’d both done retired and everything.
“Hi, Sam.” Cotton’s hand tightened on her hip, and he sort of stiffened. Not in a I-don’t-like-you way. She’d seen that with Jeff.
“Y’all.” Sam stopped, took a slow breath. “All you comin’ down to the house tonight?”
Everybody around them stopped breathing. Everybody.
Cotton actually choked a little. She could hear it. “Um. You bet! We’d love to.”
Beau nodded, took over for Sam, who still wasn’t talking easy. “Good deal. Bring your buds, bring air mattresses if you got ’em. We’ll collect keys and shit in the house, make a night of it.”
“Sounds good.” Cotton was vibrating. That was the only way to put it.
The two men left, and the guys all stared at each other.
“Shee-it.” Landon whapped Cotton on the arm. There was a lot of whacking in bull riding. “Beau Lafitte done asked you to his barbecue, Boll.”
“Uh-huh.” Packer was grinning. “And his mates.”
Em touched Cotton’s shoulder. “You okay, baby?”
“I am. This is kind of a big deal, Emmy.” He laughed a little, hugging her hard. “Packer and Landon, y’all will come, right?”
“Hell, yeah! Miss that particular shindig? No way!” Landon hooted. “I’ll go get directions from somebody.”
“Thanks, Lan. We’ll have to get our shit at the hotel and all.” Cotton plopped a kiss on her mouth. He seemed so tickled.
She grinned. “I take it we’re going to skip the beer?”
“There will be plenty of beer at the Cajun’s, Miss Emmy.” The bullfighter, Coke, came by and handed them a sheet of paper. “Here’s the directions. Dillon said you might need ’em.”
Coke’s face was all bruised, but the guy was all smiles.
“Thank you, Mister Coke.”
“You’re welcome. Good ride, cowboy.” He also clapped Cotton on the arm before walking off.
“Damn. Okay, y’all. Landon, can you get copies of this? We can meet at that McDonald’s on the way to the highway. You know, off the Quarter about ten blocks?”
“You got
it, Boll. Pack, you ridin’ with us?”
“I am. See you two in about an hour and a half?”
Cotton nodded, already steering her toward the door. “Yep. See y’all.”
They didn’t stop again until they got to Cotton’s truck, his hand on the small of her back. “Baby, is everything cool?”
“Huh? Oh, yeah.” He turned, grinning hugely, the afternoon sun making his eyes shine. “I’m so good. I mean, that means we’ll leave town a day early, but we’ll spend tonight and tomorrow at Beau’s. He has legendary parties.” Cotton opened the door for her, leaning in. “I ain’t never been invited before.”
“No? It sounds like fun.” She leaned too, kissed him, long and slow. “You did so good today.”
“I did, huh? I was showing off for you.” Humming, Cotton kissed her again, tongue pushing in. “We need to find a Wal-Mart on the way, get us an air mattress for the truck.
“Mmm. That sounds promising.” She couldn’t help her moan, the way her thighs rubbed together.
“It does, huh?” Rubbing noses, he laughed. “We need mosquito netting, too.”
“Mmmhmm. We’ll celebrate your rides. We’ll party. I promise to be amusing and only shake my tits at you.”
“There you go. I promise not to be an idiot any more than I have to.” Cotton kissed her again. Someone wolf whistled, reminding them that they were in a parking lot. Cotton flipped them off.
“Come on, stud. Let’s go get our stuff and check out.”
“Are you okay with it, really?” He peered at her, so sincere and serious. Bless his heart.
“With what? A big party, having a couple of beers with you, hanging out with a bunch of cowboys instead of a bunch of drunk businessmen?”
“I meant leaving the city a night early.” He grinned, coming around to hop in on the driver’s side. “Beau’s place is way out in East Egypt nowhere. Swamp and cattle.”
“Neat. Do you think we’ll see an alligator?”
She was from Houston. She knew swamps.
“We might. They have nutria, I know.” They got moving, and Cotton was just humming, tapping his fingers, looking like all was right with his world.
Em chuckled, stretched, then watched the streets go by.
Cotton stopped out on the street at the hotel, not bothering with the valet. They could pack in just a few minutes. She wasn’t going to complain. Cotton was so happy. She did the packing while he dealt with the front desk. Her phone rang while she was in there. Jeff. “Hey, buddy?”
“Hey, Auntie. How’s it going?”
“It’s great! I’m having a ball. How’re you?” She shoved clothes into bags, then grabbed the hangers of shirts.
“Oh. You know. I’m here.” He sounded…down.
“Yeah?” She probably should sound more concerned. “How’s everybody?”
“Fine. Fine. When are you coming home?”
“I don’t know, Jeffy.” She thought maybe there was really work for her here. Good work. Interesting work where they would appreciate what she knew.
“Oh. Well. I miss you.” Oh, bless his heart. That was sweet. Where was her cherry thong?
“You should go hang out with Mouse…” Oh, dude. How did they get up there?
“I guess. I was just hoping you’d say you’d hurry home.” Jeff was getting a little…whiny. He was good guy, but Cotton was waiting.
“Honey, I have to go. I’m sorry. I’ll call tomorrow. Promise.”
“Okay. See you, Auntie.”
“Be good.”
Cotton was walking to the door as she opened it, clicked her phone shut.
“Hey, Emmy.” He smiled, and it was like Christmas. “You ready to hasta?”
“You know it.” She handed him his duffle and shirts, grabbed her bag and laptop. “Let’s go play, baby.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
Beau’s place was kind of surreal.
Hell, it was surreal that they’d been invited in the first place. Him and his people. His people. Landon and Laurel and Packer. Hell, he would have invited Garret, but the man was city fond, and Kynan wasn’t popular with that crowd. And Adrian had gone home to see his wife, which, yeah.
Right.
Whatever.
Oh God.
Emmy had changed into a tiny tank top and one of his flannel shirts, along with a pair of faded jeans. The look made his mouth dry. He just. Wow. He was a happy, happy man. He wasn’t sure what to do when they got parked. Did he just go in? Did he wait for the hounds to stop baying at them?
Em took his hand, squeezed once. “Come on, baby. Let’s go. Grab the beer, and I’ll get the cupcakes.”
“Okay.” They had stopped at the Wally World and gotten all manner of shit. Emmy had told him that as guests, they had to bring drinks and dessert at least, so they had Bud Light and those fancy swirled cupcakes. They wouldn’t starve, at least.
Of course, Landon and Packer had bought Slim Jims and Oreos and cigarettes and Jack and pork rinds and… Yeah.
There were already a ton of people there—kids running around, people in lawn chairs and on blankets. There was a bonfire set up, four grills smoking. It was insane.
“Cotton!” Dillon Walsh came over, smiling, doing a little clown-dance. “I didn’t get to meet your girl, before or after you clocked me.”
Shit. Dillon even had a bruise.
“You hit him? Cotton?” Emmy sounded shocked, but Cotton knew better. Defending her always got him laid.
“He made fun of you. Last time. Emmy, this is Dillon. Dillon, my girl, Emmy.”
“Hi.” Dillon stuck out his hand, smiling, looking like there were no hard feelings.
Em shook. “It’s his job, baby. Besides, I sorta stick out.”
“Well, he made you cry.” Cotton stuck his chin out. He wasn’t going to apologize for standing up for his Emmy.
“Well, we’re even. You’ve never been here before, eh?”
Emmy’s hand settled on the small of his back, petting on him, loving on him.
“No.” His ears heated up. “We, um, brought cupcakes.”
“Cool.” Dillon glanced over his shoulder, laughing when two very long-eared, very short dogs came barrel-assing up.
“Oh! Oh, look at the puppies!” His girl squealed, bent right down and laughed as they tackled her.
They were little hounds, and Cotton thought maybe he’d seen them before, with Coke. Lord, they were cute. Not as cute as Emmy rolling around getting loved on. He heard Dillon chuckle, knew he was staring hard, but…that was his girl.
“Hey, you bring them dogs to hunt nutria?” Beau got there about the time Coke did, and there was a great slapping of backs before Beau turned to him. “Hey, Cotton. Glad you could make it.”
“Thanks. We, uh, where do we put the food and stuff we brought to share?”
Dillon popped up, swatted Coke on the ass. “I know this one. I’ll be Sam.” Dillon squared his shoulders, speech slowing to a drawl. “Now, you see them long tables? There’s food. Help yourselves. Two rules—one, if you drink so much as a beer, you put your keys in the bowl in the kitchen. Two, no getting drunk and puking in the house.”
Sam Bell—the real one—sauntered up and knocked Dillon’s hat off. “Fuck. Off.”
Everybody laughed, but Cotton thought it was a little sad.
“You got the rules, son?”
“Yeah, Gramps.” Those were easy enough rules. Cotton nodded, and Emmy chuckled, standing up and brushing off.
“Such cute babies.”
Coke snorted. “Wait until one of them eats your underwear.”
Emmy laughed, nudged him with her shoulder. “I don’t think Cotton would approve.”
“No, sir. Only one allowed near that is me.”
There was applause and hoots and hollers, and he felt Emmy’s cheeks get hot. Of course, he thought maybe he felt a really hard nipple against his arm, so score.
They were so gonna use that air mattress.
“Oooeee! This sure is a nice pl
ace you got, Mr. Beau. Sam! Good to see you, friend. We should go play roper.” Landon bounced over, dangling Wal-Mart bags. “Should we put the pork rinds over to the kitchen, m’sou?”
Sam chuckled, eyes twinkling a little. “I’ll show you. You met Adam Taggart?”
“Huh?” Landon went with Sam, hop-skipping along. “The pick-up man?”
Cotton didn’t want to contemplate that too much.
Beau and Dillon watched Sam and Landon walk off, while Coke took Emmy’s arm and begged a cupcake.
Cotton thought he might just bust, the way Emmy walked with Coke to the house, chattering about their drive and his puppies. He loved her a bunch. He really did.
“Just make yourselves at home. There’s horseshoes, chairs. The hounds don’t bite—not the little ones or the big ’uns.” At Beau’s words, four huge bloodhounds seemed to appear from nowhere, a passel of puppies running behind.
“Emmy will spend her whole time messing with dogs.” He grinned. “Thank you for inviting me.”
“No problem.” Beau winked at him. “Go. Have fun.”
“Thanks.” He went, before it got any more awkward. AJ clapped him on the back when he went by, grinning. Cotton waved weakly, feeling like he was in Wonderland.
Emmy was kneeling down, talking to kids, who were touching her hair. She was laughing, really laughing, and he just damn near busted from pure pride. Well, that and wanting to make babies with her. Damn. He’d never thought that about another girl. Period.
She looked up at him, smiled, and damn.
Damn.
He was blown away by her. Really, really deep sunk in love. Cotton went over, reaching for her, needing to touch.
She stood, came right to him. “Hey, baby. You look so good.”
“So do you.” Cotton kissed her mouth. “Love you.”
“Oh…” She beamed for him. Sweet girl. She was so hungry for affection, and he was just the man to give it.
“Boll! Quit hogging Emily. Don’t you want to go play horseshoes or something?” Laurel bounced over, three beers in hand.
Emmy chuckled. “I’m hogging him, not the other way around.”
“Well, you’ll have plenty of time when it gets good and late.” Packer came over and grinned, ears wiggling. “It’s time she learned the time-honored tradition of hanging out with the sheilas.”