Her Lusty Lions [Lions of Lonesome, Texas 6]

by Jane Jamison

He almost laughed but managed to hold it back. Somehow, he didn’t think she’d appreciate his sense of humor much. He, however, appreciated her come-back a hell of a lot. “Nope. But I sure as hell can hear her saying exactly that. Sorry. I didn’t mean anything by it.”

  “It’s okay.” She blew out a breath and glared at the car. “I guess I’m a little cranky. My damn car decided now, out in the middle of nowhere, to break down.”

  “They tend to do it at the most inconsiderate times.” He wondered if she’d think it odd that he’d phrased it that way. His brothers were constantly kidding him about his sometimes flowery language.

  She blinked, thrown off-guard, and grinned. “Yes, they do. I’m Mira Ashby, by the way. And who are you?”

  He was halfway in his dismount when she said her name. He paused, just a second, then landed on his feet. Dropping Rider’s reins, he strode over to the fence and hoped his surprise and delight was showing on his face. The sooner she realized that he wanted her, the better. “The name’s Davis Fairland. It’s nice to meet you, Mira.”

  When she accepted his outstretched hand over the top railing of the fence, he was sure an angel had touched him. A primal acknowledgement, both as a man and as a lion, swept over him, and his lion roared its recognition. He glanced down at their hands and wondered how long he could keep hers in his. His hand engulfed hers. He could easily imagine her pussy engulfing his cock. Lifting his gaze to those stunning eyes again, he lingered a moment before giving in to his animal’s—and his man’s—need to slide his gaze down her body and check out every sexy inch of her. He’d travel all the way to her feet, then take a leisurely trek back up to her lovely face.

  “It’s nice to meet you, too.” She tugged her hand from his. “Are you any relation to Michael Fairland?”

  “That depends. If I am, would you consider that a good thing or a bad thing?”

  She laughed, the sound like bells ringing in the distance. “I don’t know him well, but I think it’s a good thing considering his heart is kind enough to care about a wounded rabbit.”

  “Yep. That’s my brother Michael all right. He’s soft that way.”

  She tilted her head to the side in question. Did she know that was what werelions did?

  “Soft? What was he supposed to do with the poor animal?”

  Most werelions would’ve put it out of its misery with one good bite. But he wasn’t about to tell her that. “Put it down is what most ranchers would’ve done.”

  “Really? Without even trying to help it?”

  He didn’t like the way her eyes had grown wary. As though she was sizing him up and he was coming up short. “Life and death is black and white around here. No rancher has the time to nurse a rabbit back to health. It’s better to respect the circle of life.”

  He cringed inwardly. Had he just referenced The Lion King?

  “I guess I’m not used to disposing of a life so easily. Even an animal’s.”

  He tipped his hat back, making sure she understood. “No one around here takes life casually, if that’s what you’re getting at. We just tend to let nature take its course.”

  The wariness grew in her eyes, and he had to get rid of it. If her gaze ever turned cold toward him, he was certain it would freeze his heart. “We do what we can, but when the end has arrived, the end has arrived. There’s usually not much you can do to stop it.” He was encouraged as understanding took away the wariness. “Kind of like the life of an old Ford Escape.”

  Warmth and humor returned to her lighten her eyes. “This car isn’t that old.”

  “Let me give it a look.” He didn’t know much about cars. Horses made more sense and were a lot easier to like. Taking care, he put his booted foot on the middle rung of the fence then hopped over and landed in front of her.

  She backed up in a hurry. “Oh.”

  He’d caught a whiff of her scent earlier, but being closer was even better. Doubting that she wore a perfume, he inhaled and picked up her natural aroma.

  She smells like sunflowers. Sweet and delicate.

  Standing close enough to see the flare of her nostrils, he resisted the almost overwhelming impulse to pull her into an embrace.

  She cleared her throat. “Um, you were going to take a look, right?”

  “Yeah.” Yet, he stayed where he was. Hell, if he had it his way, he’d never move again unless it was to get even closer.

  “So?” She averted her gaze from his. “Are you?”

  He took another long breath and smelled her nerves taking hold. Thankfully, he didn’t smell fear on her. He’d hate to have her be afraid of him. But would she if she found out what lurked deep inside him? He forced himself to go to the car and was grateful when she followed him.

  He pretended to know what he was doing by leaning over the engine. Didn’t women expect men to know about cars? He’d never cared much about what women thought before, but now he did. At least, this woman.

  “Did you buy it new?” Did it really matter? Not as far as he was concerned, but he had to say something. He needed to hear her lyrical voice again.

  “No. I bought it from a nice farmer a couple of weeks ago.”

  “A farmer around here?” If that was the case, he’d make sure she got her money back. Although he didn’t know jack about cars, it was clear enough that a recently purchased car shouldn’t go belly up after only two weeks.

  “No. I bought it in Wiley, the town near the highway. Do you know it?”

  “I do, but I don’t know everyone who lives there.” Wiley was a regular human Texas town. A few of the residents knew about the people of Lonesome, but most, like many folks in small Texas towns, didn’t put their noses where they didn’t belong. As for the citizens of Lonesome? They did their best to stick to their shifter town.

  “So? Can you get it going again?”

  He shook his head, again feigning a knowledge he didn’t have. “Nope. It’s given up the fight to live.”

  Even her frown couldn’t make her face any less beautiful.

  “Well, hell. What am I going to do now?”

  He didn’t mind a woman cussing one damn bit. In fact, sometimes it made her hotter. Besides, cussing was a requirement in some situations, including a dead car.

  “You could hitch a ride back to town.” He leaned against the car and made a show of searching the road for any oncoming vehicles. “Or you could hop on the back of Rider and come back to the ranch house with me.”

  “Rider?”

  He tipped his head toward the horse calmly munching on grass. “My horse, of course.”

  “Oh. Right.”

  He was glad to see she was considering the idea. “It’s not far from here. From there, we could use the landline to call a tow truck.”

  “Thanks, but let’s not go to all that trouble.” She made a funny face. “I don’t know why I didn’t think about using my cell phone.”

  He let her retrieve her phone from her car, knowing it would do no good. Sure enough, she was soon lifting the phone into the air, searching for a signal. “I’m not picking up any bars. “She moved toward the middle of the road, turning around as she went as she kept trying to pick up a few bars.

  He let her keep turning around, enjoying the alternating view of her breasts, then her ass, then her breasts…she was a show he’d never get tired of watching.

  “It won’t do you any good. This area never gets reception.” He shrugged as she turned to face him again.

  “No cell phone towers?”

  “Nope. Not a one. Not out here.”

  “But I got reception in town.” She tried again, but it would do her no good. “And at the Hartley ranch.”

  “Their ranch is closer to the highway where the tower is.”

  She lowered her arm, her gaze confused. “I thought you said there were no towers at all.”

  “I meant close to my ranch. Consider this the Bermuda Triangle of Texas. No cell phone reception at all. But I do have a landline at the house.”

&nbs
p; She finally gave up and shoved the phone into her back pocket. “Got it. Still, we just met.”

  He could understand her hesitancy. After all, she was a woman alone and a man she didn’t know was inviting her back to his house. “True enough, but you know Michael. He’s a good guy, which makes me a good guy because I’m his brother.”

  She laughed, the sound bringing a soft smile to his face. “I don’t think it works that way. I’ll bet even some serial killers have had brothers.”

  “Trust me. Michael’s no serial killer.”

  His joke earned him another one of her laughs. “I’m not talking about Michael, and you know it.”

  “Then what are you going to do? Stand around out here until someone comes along? I’d recommend that you don’t. This isn’t a busy road. Which brings up the question of what you were doing all the way out here. Not that I mind.”

  “I was just taking a drive, trying to get to know the area better.”

  “Don’t tell me you got GPS on your phone to work.”

  “No and I guess I should’ve taken that as a warning sign.” She glanced down the road. “As for what I’m going to do? Beats the hell out of me.”

  “Like I said, you’re welcome to hop on behind me.”

  She started to disagree, to argue again that she didn’t know him, but he held up a hand, stopping her. “How about you go to the dance with me tonight?”

  She blinked as once more he’d thrown her a curve. “The one at the saloon?”

  “That’s the one. The town takes over the bar every six months for a shindig. Like a community get-together kind of thing. But the dance is out back under the moon.”

  “But how does that solve my problem right now?” A twinkle lit her face as the sunlight created a soft glow behind her.

  “Well, it’s kind of backwards, but you’ll be able to get to know me better at the dance tonight. Until then, just pretend you already know me.”

  “Mr. Fairland, that’s really a strange way of looking at this situation.”

  “Well, Ms. Ashby, there are a lot stranger things in this world.” She didn’t know the half of it. “So how about it? If I wasn’t a stand-up kind of guy, I could’ve already done some very bad things to you.”

  The need for her rose higher, making it harder to breathe. His lion clawed at his insides, demanding that he take her as werelions used to take their mates—forcefully and without their permission. But the good man that he was wouldn’t allow it.

  Her lips parted, her breathing quickened. He drew in a slow breath and caught a whiff of her arousal.

  “What kind of bad things?” she asked in a whisper.

  If he told her, would she let him show her? The “bad” things he wanted to do to her would be good. Very good for the both of them.

  The honking of a car horn jolted him and turned her toward the car coming up behind her. Davis squinted into the sun before finally recognizing the driver.

  “Miss Kitty.” Damn. Of all the times for her to show up, why did it have to be now?

  “It is?” Mira shaded her eyes. “It is.” She pivoted back to him. “I guess that solves my problem.”

  Did she sound disappointed? Or was he imagining it?

  “Hey, Mira, looks like you’re in a pickle.” Miss Kitty pulled the car alongside them with the window down. “Hey, there, Davis. Mira, do you need a ride?”

  “Yes. I do.” She took his hand. “Thanks for the offer, anyway.”

  “But will I see you at the dance? I can pick you up, or you can meet me there. Whatever you want to do.”

  “We’ll see. Maybe.” Suddenly, without warning, she rose onto the tips of her toes and gave him a peck on the cheek. “Thanks for the help.”

  He felt like pressing his fingers to his cheek to keep the kiss lingering there for as long as possible. Thankfully, he kept his hand down. “I didn’t do anything.”

  She slid into the passenger seat of Miss Kitty’s car. “Yes. You did.”

  “Nah, I didn’t. But I’ll call the tow truck and have them take the car to a mechanic friend of mine. If you want me to.” Was it wrong of him to want her to come to the dance if only to repay his help? Even if it was, he didn’t care.

  “Thanks. That’ll be great.”

  “Okay, you two, I wasn’t driving by for your pleasure,” said Miss Kitty. “I have errands to run.”

  Mira lifted a hand in good-bye as Miss Kitty put her foot to the accelerator.

  “Tonight,” he called after her, feeling like a pimple-faced boy asking out a girl for the first time.

  * * * *

  “You’re a good dancer, little lady.”

  Mira smiled as Michael guided her around in a circle of two-stepping couples. She’d gone back and forth on whether to come to the dance, but Miss Kitty had pointed out that, as a new resident, she should attend if only to make sure people didn’t think she was a big city snob. Miss Kitty assured her that the Summer Dance was a great way to meet more people and to “loosen the hell up”. Maybe if she met more people, then she’d want to stay in Lonesome.

  She had to admit that she was having a great time. She loved to dance and had accepted invitations from several men to show her moves on the temporary stage that had been erected behind the Whiskers and Whiskey Saloon.

  Michael, however, was her favorite partner. He knew all the dances and made her laugh. The only thing missing was a good sexual attraction to him. Instead, she’d already placed him in the friend zone.

  “You’re a good dancer, little lady.”

  “Little lady? You make me sound like the old-time schoolmarm.”

  “And I’m the handsome sheriff enjoying the night before he and his posse head off to round up the rustlers tomorrow morning.”

  “Oh, my.” Her Southern accent was atrocious, making her giggle. “Do be careful. I hate patching up bullet holes in men.”

  He adopted an equally awful accent. “Don’t you worry your pretty little head, miss. I can take care of myself. Rest assured that if anything happens to me, my faithful horse, Ranger, will bring me on home.”

  Michael could definitely make her laugh. More than once, she’d tried to feel something more toward him, but she failed every time.

  “Where are your brothers?” She’d asked the question without thinking and quickly diverted her gaze.

  “All of them or just Davis?”

  She looked up and saw teasing in Michael’s eyes. “Well, Davis is the one who invited me to the dance.”

  “And I heard you turned him down.”

  “No, I didn’t. I said I might show up. And I did.”

  “So what did you think of Davis?”

  Was he fishing for a specific answer? “He seems nice. Not at all the serial killer type.”

  “A serial killer? What’s that mean? Do you know something I don’t?”

  “Of course not. It’s nothing. Just a joke between Davis and me.”

  “Sounds like you liked him.” He tilted his head, making her meet his gaze. “Like really liked him. Am I right?”

  “I don’t know him. But I suppose he’s all right.” Davis was more than all right. He was as handsome as Michael, yet there was a connection she’d felt between them, a vibe of sexual energy that was lacking with Michael. But why?

  “He’s all right, huh? Believe me when I say he’s more than all right. All my brothers are. They’re great guys.” He twirled her around. “But tell them I said that and I’ll cut my tongue off.”

  “I wouldn’t want you to do that. I hate reattaching tongues almost as much as I do patching up bullet holes.”

  “Amen to that.” He glanced around. “You’ll meet Henry and Rick tonight along with seeing Davis again.”

  “I will?” She took a look around, too. “Are they here?”

  “Yeah. They’re close by. Don’t doubt it for a second.”

  “I’m looking forward to meeting them.”

  “That’s good because here comes Henry now.”

  He�
�d no more said so before she was turned away from Michael and spun straight into Henry’s arms.

  “Hey, honey, you’re looking awful pretty tonight. I’m Henry, Michael’s handsome brother.”

  “And modest brother, too.” She loved the way he took control, leading her with confidence much like Michael had done.

  “Hey, I’m not bragging, but I’m not going to deny the truth.” His shaved head shone under the party lights strung overhead. Obsidian eyes dove into her as though seeking answers.

  Was she ready to give him the answers to any of his questions? Instead of responding, she lowered her attention to the dark hair peeking out from under his shirt. His grip was strong, yet gentle, and when he pulled her against him for a quick spin, her breasts pressed against a very hard chest. The heat of desire hit her, making her miss a step.

  “Are you okay?” he asked.

  “Sure.” Yet her voice was breathy.

  “You’re beautiful. You know that, right?”

  How was she supposed to answer? “Thank you.”

  “No. I mean, really. It’s not just a compliment.”

  She had to tease him. “It’s a fact.”

  “Exactly.”

  “And it’s a fact that you, brother, need to step off.”

  Again, she was spun away from one partner to end up facing another. He was as tall as Henry and Michael, but he had dark brown wavy hair and light brown eyes.

  “I’m Rick Fairland.”

  “Oh. Nice to meet you.”

  He slid his gaze down then up, making her very self-conscious and very warm. The heat that had started to build with Henry got another sexual log on the fire. The night was cool, but the slight breeze wasn’t doing anything to keep her from burning inside.

  “My brothers told me about you. Especially Michael.” His intense stare deepened. “But none of them did you justice.”

  “Thanks.” Embarrassment colored her cheeks. She wasn’t used to getting so many compliments, especially from so many men in one night.

  “Now I know why they’re sweet on you.”

  She jerked her attention back to those soulful eyes. Eyes that had the same amber flecks she’d seen in other men’s eyes. Even some of the women’s. Yet before she could wonder about his eyes, another man had tapped Rick on the shoulder.