Angie's Destiny [Cattleman's Club 8] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting)

by Jenny Penn

  “Now you sound like your mother, except for the nice parts.” Gwen groaned. “Has it never occurred to you that I like all those men?”

  “But don’t you like one more than the others?” Kristen asked, knowing her cousin did. Gwen liked the sheriff, but he must have hurt her something bad because her expression didn’t grow wishful. It hardened.

  “No.” Gwen finally answered with an unnerving quietness. “There is one I hate more than all the rest.”

  Kristen’s heart ached for the pain she sensed lying beneath that confession, but she knew how her cousin would respond to any hint of pity. So she straightened up and offered Gwen the sound, firm advice she needed.

  “Hate is not going to get you anywhere.”

  That had Gwen cracking a smile that held little warmth. “Oh, Kristen, hate is going to take me everywhere.”

  With that, Gwen turned and disappeared down the hall, leaving Kristen staring at the door and wondering what her cousin meant by that. Actually she had a feeling she knew. As much as she tried to avoid the memory, Kristen couldn’t help but recall the conversation she’d overheard between Gwen and her male friend and knew her cousin was up to no good.

  Of course, her mother would have said the same about Kristen if she could read the thoughts swirling through her head lately. They were hot and exciting and beyond embarrassing, but that wasn’t going to stop her.

  Taking off her dress and packing up her outfit, Kristen washed up and headed to bed, only to lie there and count the clicks of the clock as the seconds slowly piled up into hours. She was too nervous to sleep. Tomorrow was Friday. Tomorrow was the day she would ask Brandon and Dylan out on a date.

  Just the sound of their first names in her head had Kristen wanting to giggle with a strange glee, and she knew that tomorrow was the beginning of a wonderful adventure.

  Chapter 15

  Friday, May 23rd

  “I don’t know why I ever listened to you,” Brandon grumbled for only about the millionth time.

  That was just that day. It had to be like the gazillionth time for the week, and Dylan was getting tired of hearing him complain. He just knew nothing was going to stop him. So he just sat there listening while he glanced between his radar gun and the road it was aimed down.

  Brandon’s was pointed in the opposite direction. They had their cruisers pulled up side by side, their windows down so they could chat as they waited for the even traffic to pick up. Right then, the road was quiet, even if Brandon wasn’t.

  “This waiting is killing me.”

  “That’s because you’re obsessing,” Dylan pointed out, earning him a dark look from the other deputy.

  “I’m obsessing because you ruined my life,” Brandon snapped back, making Dylan groan. This is what came from talking to his friend lately.

  “I didn’t ruin your life,” he said, defending himself half-heartedly, knowing there was no real point in that either.

  “There is no way a woman as sheltered and innocent as Kristen is ever going to agree to both of us. We should have drawn straws.”

  “And if you had lost?” Dylan asked, knowing the answer already.

  “Still,” Brandon insisted, pointedly ignoring Dylan’s question. “If one of us had seduced her, we could have lured her slowly into the idea of multiples and domination.”

  Dylan didn’t think that would have gone any better. It probably would have gone a whole hell of a lot worse. “Start as you mean to go on. There has to be honesty if you want a real relationship.”

  Brandon snorted at that. “Like you know anything about relationships.”

  Dylan defended himself. “I know what they’re not. Besides, I’m not the one who invited Rachel to a fictional pool party, and I know if you’re trying to date one woman, you’re not supposed to ask another one out.”

  “Screw you, Dylan, you know I just did that because Adam begged me to.”

  “Yeah, he was desperate.” Dylan could agree on that. “But you’re only one step behind him, buddy.”

  Brandon snorted at that. “Please.”

  “You’re just upset because she turned you down.” Dylan smiled at that.

  It was all so stupid. Adam and Killian were still trying to convince their girl to take them back, but Rachel was having none of it. So those two idiots had decided to surprise her with a romantic dinner. That wasn’t the worse idea Dylan had ever heard, but then things had gotten weird.

  For some reason Rachel thought Brandon lived with Duncan. Of course, Adam hadn’t wanted to deal with Duncan’s bullshit so he’d asked Brandon to invite her to Duncan’s house for a party that had taken place a week past. It had all been in a vain hope to lure Rachel to Duncan’s for a private, romantic dinner Adam and Killian had planned. It was supposed to be a surprise.

  What would be a surprise, though, would be Dylan finally getting his own pool.

  “I’m still thinking of the pool,” Dylan admitted. “You think we can get it in by the end of the summer?”

  “Pool? What pool?” Brandon acted as if the word was new to him. “We’re not getting any pool.”

  “Oh, for God’s sakes,” Dylan muttered. “You know you can be a real ass sometimes.”

  “And you come by it so⎯oh, look at that.” Brandon’s attention caught at the sight of a massive sedan busting the speed limit as it hauled ass down the road. “I’m sitting right here!”

  “That’s thirty above,” Dylan murmured, somewhat impressed by the numbers flashing on Brandon’s radar. “You’ve got to hit that.”

  “No shit.” Brandon was already clicking on his lights.

  “You want backup?”

  “I’ll call if I need it.”

  Then Brandon was gone, his siren breaking up the quiet of the late afternoon and gaining an immediate response from the speeding car. It braked hard, assuring Dylan that there was no chase coming. No other cars, either.

  Sighing as he glanced at the time, he hoped somebody came his way soon. He was bored. It was looking to be a long shift, or it was until the radio started crackling and Duncan was hailing him. Dylan pressed the call button on the mike clipped over his shoulder.

  “Hey, man,” Duncan called back, dropping police procedure and assuring Dylan this was a personal call. “You’ll never guess who just came into the station house.”

  “Mickey Mouse?” Dylan shot back, smiling as he imagined Duncan’s expression going sour with that sharp retort, but Duncan was quick on the return as always.

  “Not that kind of mouse. Try Kristen Harold instead.”

  “Kristen?” Dylan perked up, his heart doing a double beat at all the reasons she might have stopped by.

  “Yeah.” Duncan drew the word out with a smugness that assured Dylan he was amused. “And she was looking for Deputy Hammel or Singer and blushing about as red as a tomato. I think you boys are about to get lucky.”

  “Screw you, Duncan.”

  “She’s headed home, if you want to go make a traffic stop.”

  Dylan was already pulling off the side of the road. If Kristen had something she wanted to say, then he was eager to listen. Eager enough to put on the lights and speed fast enough that he managed to catch her putting down Main Street.

  Pulling up behind her, he beeped his siren at her and just like the good girl she was, Kristen immediately pulled over. She was already off the scooter and turning toward him wearing a smile and a blush as Dylan hopped out of his cruiser and started sauntering up to her.

  “Deputy Singer.” Kristen greeted him with a hint of nervousness coloring the delight in her tone. “Was I speeding?”

  “I somehow doubt it.” Dylan couldn’t help but chuckle over even the suggestion, but then again, that might have had something to do with the light feeling of joy that flooded through him whenever he was in Kristen’s presence.

  “I hear you’re looking for me,” Dylan pressed, too eager to wait for the conversation to develop naturally. “So, here I am, at your service. What can I do for you
?”

  “Deputy Singer,” Kristen started, only to pause, lick her lips, and suck in a deep breath before beginning again. “Dylan, I was wondering if you might grace me with the pleasure of your company on Saturday night.”

  Dylan laughed. He couldn’t help it. She was so adorable in her pink helmet, glancing up at him with a shy hopefulness.

  “You really are too much, princess. You know that?”

  “Is that a yes?”

  Dylan didn’t answer. Not with words. Instead, he stepped up to cup Kristen’s jaw and lift her face up for his kiss. With a tender gentleness he’d never felt before, he tried to go slowly, rubbing his lips softly against hers in a chaste kiss Kristen immediately deepened. Her mouth parted beneath his and almost instantly he was drowning in her intoxicating taste.

  He wanted more. He needed it. Dylan had waited long enough for another taste of paradise, and he didn’t have the reserves to fight against the lust all but consuming him. Over and over he plundered the sweet, velvety depths of Kristen’s mouth until she was moaning and leaning into him.

  Who knew where that would have led if a car hadn’t sped by? It honked its horn as some twit hollered a “woo-hoo” out the window. That destroyed the moment, and Kristen and Dylan broke apart, each taking a moment to catch their breath before Kristen met his gaze once again. This time there was a sparkle glittering in her gray eyes.

  “That was definitely a yes.”

  “It was.” Dylan paused to frown, remembering that he and Brandon. “Only Saturday is no good. Brandon and I are volunteering to help out at Camp D. We’re participating in an obstacle course and will probably be pretty late.”

  “Oh.” Kristen looked crestfallen for a moment before perking back up. “Well, you could join me and my friends tonight. We’re going dancing again.”

  “I wish I could, princess, but I’ve got to work.” Dylan scowled, feeling kind of a like a toad for turning her down twice in a row. “But we could do church and brunch on Sunday again.”

  It was as if he’d offered her diamonds. Kristen’s face lit up with such happiness Dylan wanted to kiss her again. Then he did, though, this time, he forced himself to keep it short. Short and sweet, just like Kristen.

  “Sunday then.”

  “Sunday,” Kristen repeated back with a nod before casting him another hesitant glance. “Will…Brandon be joining us?”

  “Always.”

  * * * *

  Sunday couldn’t come soon enough for Kristen. The time ticked by so slowly it was torturous. Friday night alone was a nightmare. She was so giggly and bubbly with the knowledge that, on Sunday, she was going to spend time with both Brandon and Dylan again. Some of that time they’d probably spend kissing.

  The memory of how good their kisses could be made her blush and all the more eager to get kissed again. That thought had her watching the other men at the bar and wondering if any of them could kiss like her two. She didn’t think so. She didn’t think any other man could make her feel the way Brandon and Dylan did.

  They made her feel special.

  Kristen snuggled that feeling close and clung to it all night and all of Saturday until her cousin came home raging and busted Kristen’s bubble of bliss.

  Kristen was in the dining room, working on making a quilt out of the leftover scraps from her tailored wardrobe, when Gwen came slamming into the house. She was cursing and ranting into her cell phone. It was impossible, given the pitch of her tone, to avoid hearing what Gwen had to say.

  “…Not right! That was supposed to be an all-male event. What the fuck was Heather doing there?”

  Kristen cringed at her cousin’s choice of words but focused in on the one word that explained a lot.

  Heather.

  This had to be about the sheriff. Kristen had learned enough over the past couple of weeks to put the picture all together. Gwen and the sheriff had obviously had a thing, but he had a real thing for Heather Lawson. That had broken Gwen’s heart and made her bitter.

  “You’re so full of shit. There’s no way Miss Goody-Two-Shoes would ever get it on in the bathroom of a boy’s camp. I don’t believe it…it’s a lie. No, it has to be….Ahhh!”

  Gwen screamed, prompting Kristen to hop immediately up and rush toward her. She made it in time to see Gwen chunk her phone on the ground and stomp it to death. She belted out one obscenity after the other with each smashing pound of her foot before she wore herself out and collapsed in heaving sobs on the couch.

  “Oh, honey.” Kristen was beside her in an instant. Throwing an arm around Gwen’s shoulders, she tucked her cousin into her side and began to rock her. “It’s all going to be okay.”

  She repeated that mantra until Gwen had calmed down enough to jerk back. She leapt off the couch and turned to pin Kristen with a pointed look.

  “This never happened.”

  Kristen had no idea what she meant by that, but before she could ask, Gwen was storming off to her room. She disappeared down the hall, and a moment later, her door slammed, leaving Kristen sitting there wondering what had just happened.

  She didn’t really know, but it left her disturbed and with an uneasy feeling that her cousin was spinning out of control. She felt a need to do something but didn’t know what to do. So she went reluctantly back to her sewing but wasn’t able to find happiness in the effort as she had earlier.

  Instead, she worried over Gwen. That was, she worried until Brandon called to arrange a time to pick her up in the morning. He said he was looking forward to seeing her, that he’d missed her, and Kristen went to bed holding on to those sweet words and woke smiling with them still ringing in her head.

  She took her time showering and getting ready for church, wanting to look her best for both Dylan and Brandon…and God, she quickly reminded herself, not wanting to think what He’d have to say with her dating two men at the same time. Hopefully, He’d understand, though she knew her parents never would, but this wasn’t their life.

  It was hers, and she was going to live it.

  Kristen made that vow as she took one last look in the mirror. She heard the truck pulling up in the driveway and grabbed her purse, pleased that her men were punctual. It was an admirable quality, and so was patience, but Kristen was out of that.

  She threw open the front door before Brandon even reached it and was waiting on the top step to the house’s small front porch. He smiled up at her as he came bounding up the steps. Boy did he ever look good in a suit. She smiled, thinking he’d probably look good in anything.

  “Good⎯”

  Kristen didn’t get a chance to finish her greeting as Brandon caught her cheeks in his hands and sealed her lips with a kiss. The heady, intoxicating flavor of coffee and cinnamon flooded through her as Kristen sighed and melted into his arms. This was what she’d been missing, what she was willing to risk her heart for.

  She just hoped she didn’t end up sitting on the couch, crying her eyes out. That grim thought had her pulling back and forcing her quivering legs to take her weight as she stared up at Brandon. He stole all the worry beginning to fill her with one simply whispered confession.

  “I missed you.”

  “I missed you, too,” Kristen whispered back, feeling her heart grow soft and heavy as her words brought a smile to his lips.

  “Come on, we better get before I ravage you right here on the front porch.” Brandon held a hand out to her, his eyes twinkling with merriment and a heat that assured her he wasn’t entirely kidding.

  Kristen returned his smile and slid her hand into his. “Just think what my parents would say if we skipped church to spend all morning kissing.”

  Brandon blinked and shot her a funny look. “It wouldn’t be only kissing, Kristen. You know that, right?”

  “We shouldn’t talk about that,” Kristen responded as her face flamed at even the implication they’d be having sex. If that was what it came to, that was what it came to, but she wanted it to evolve naturally…without any discussion. Brandon, appar
ently, did not agree.

  “Don’t you think we should?” He paused to open the cab door, and Dylan caught his question. He was waiting in the driver’s seat to greet her with another bone-melting, heart-pounding kiss before blindsiding her with a question.

  “Don’t you think we should what?” Dylan asked as Brandon joined them on the bench seat and shut his door.

  “Talk about sex.”

  “Deputy Hammel!” Kristen felt the searing heat flush across her cheeks, but they weren’t laughing because they weren’t kidding.

  “No,” Dylan cut in as he began to ease the truck back out of the drive. “He’s right. We need to come to a few understandings.”

  Kristen didn’t want to understand anything. She wanted out of this conversation but feared the only way to the end it was to go through with the discussion. “Like what?”

  “Well, like birth control,” Dylan began pointedly before making Kristen squirm with even more embarrassment as he bluntly continued on. “I’m assuming, given your never-been-kissed status, you aren’t on any.”

  Kristen should just let that lie, but neither man was filling the silence, and finally she caved. “I am.”

  “You’re on birth control?” Both men seemed honestly shocked by that admission, but Brandon recovered first, frowning down at her. “Why?”

  Kristen couldn’t meet his gaze but focused on her hands as she tried to politely explain what she didn’t want to explain. “It’s a female thing.”

  “A female thing?” Dylan snorted. “What the hell does that mean?”

  “I’m…not regular.”

  “Birth control has something to do with bowel movements?” Dylan frowned.

  “Don’t be absurd,” Kristen snapped, out of patience with his prodding. “I’m talking about menstruation!”

  “Oh.” Both men breathed out that word as they nodded and then fell awkwardly, blessedly silent. That only lasted for a moment, though, before Brandon was turning back to the second most uncomfortable conversation she had that day.

  “Well then, that’s great. No condoms needed, right?” He glanced down at her hopefully, and Kristen didn’t even know what to say. Dylan did.