“Unlike Brooke’s clapped-out old banger,” Travis seethed.
“Yeah. Anyway, about six months ago she stopped turning in for work. After a few days, she rang her boss and told him she had to go away and wouldn’t be working for them anymore. The guy said she was in tears on the phone. He couldn’t get it out of her where she was going or why, but he said something didn’t feel right somehow. He asked around her friends but no one knew anything. One of her girlfriends went around to her apartment a few times but never got an answer. They guessed she’d left town, like she said.”
Travis took a slow sip of his coffee. “D’you reckon she’s been on the road all this time?”
“Chicago’s a long way off. She wouldn’t have driven all this way for a few days’ vacation.” Kent frowned.
“Do we know where the boyfriend is?”
“Not yet. Mason’s looking into that. Hasn’t come up with a name yet, but he will.”
“Probably explains who she’s running from. If he’s the fucker that did all that to her body, I can’t wait to meet him myself.” Travis scowled.
“Join the line, bro,” Kent fumed, shaking his head.
“Looks like the weather’s improved. The road must be passable by now. If the bastard’s on to her, he could show up here anytime.”
“That’s what I thought. I think we’d best be going to that gig tonight just to keep an eye on things.”
“You don’t think I was planning to leave her alone with Rich the Red-Light Wrangler, do you?”
Kent chuckled. “Not really.” Rich had a real bad reputation locally for being a bit of a manwhore. He was also a bit of an enigma; the folks in town took him to be bisexual, but he was known to only take women home with him. His daddy didn’t approve of gays, apparently, particularly not in his own family.
The phone rang again and Kent rushed over to answer it. His gorgeous face turned to a puzzled frown.
“OK, boss, thanks for letting me know. Can you send it here as soon as you get it? Much obliged. Keep me posted.” He sat back down, a thoughtful expression on his face.
“Mason?”
Kent nodded gravely. “Someone he knows at the police department in Chicago recognized the name. Mason said the guy can’t recall the exact circumstances, but he thinks someone in his department has been trying to get hold of a Brooke Anderson to find out why she failed to appear in court last week. He’s going to check it out and let us know. He’s also agreed to forward a picture of her so we can check it’s the same girl.”
Travis ran his hand through his hair. “Well at least it’s something,” he said with a sigh. He frowned at Kent’s unhappy face. “You think she’s done something wrong?”
Kent shook his head. “I don’t know. It’s not only criminals that wind up in court.”
Travis grabbed his partner’s arms across the table. “Then what?”
Kent sighed. “Mason said the guy warned him that if this Brooke Anderson is who he thinks she is, the pictures ain’t pretty.”
Chapter Nine
Brooke hummed a country song as she prepared for her date. She couldn’t remember the last time a guy took her out. A pang of sadness hit her that she wasn’t going with Travis and Kent, though. Travis had mentioned the gig when they were up at the ranch but hadn’t said anything about it last night, so she assumed he’d either forgotten or changed his mind. She felt a warm glow in her stomach as she remembered Travis’s kisses from last night. For a while there, everything seemed to be right with the world. She’d even managed to forget all about Chad while she was in Travis’s arms.
Her thoughts turned to Kent. He had been so gorgeous when he was using the single tail on the sub; Brooke wondered what it must have felt like. She knew only too well how it felt when Chad whipped her, but he had always been angry with her. The sub Kent was with was obviously enjoying the sensations. He had seemed to be entranced by the whole scene, although he was very much in control of everything in it. There was tranquility about both Kent and his sub that Brooke couldn’t get over. Kent was so handsome too. At one point she had hoped to be kissed by him last night as well as Travis. Brooke sighed. It seemed a pity that whenever things looked as though they were going well, it always ended up getting spoiled.
She left her long blonde waves loose and wore her best black jeans with a very pretty top. It was black and had a low drawstring at the front. The material felt like satin, and it had green-and-purple floral embroidery around the edges. The sleeves were wide and felt luxurious against her skin. It had a handkerchief hem that hung just low enough to drape over her curves. Her makeup was a little heavier than her normal natural look, and she felt good about herself.
After pulling on her boots, Brooke delved into her backpack for her small purse. It was made of plain black leather and blended well with any of her outfits. Something caught her eye and she bit her lip as she checked it. The outside pocket of her backpack was very worn. She slid her hand inside and felt what she was looking for—the statement. She didn’t know why she still had it with her. It was going to be evidence she had planned to show the police. She wanted to prove to them that Chad was still local and was trying to force her to sign the false declaration to get himself off the hook. Too late now. She stuffed it back into the pocket and hid the bag under the bed before leaving the room.
“I was just going to call your room.” Don Montgomery was standing at the reception desk when she reached the foyer. “Your date’s just arrived.”
“Hi.” Rich Buchanan looked scrumptious in his designer jeans and white shirt. It wasn’t just any shirt, though; this was pure white and had scroll embroidery creating a yoke effect around his muscular shoulders. It looked as though it might be made of silk or something similar, and it had a luxurious sheen, which glistened when the light caught it. He wore polished tan boots and a matching hat and had a suede jacket hooked around his finger, which was perched just by his shoulder. He was leaning casually against the wall, waiting for her.
Brooke’s mouth went dry, and she was suddenly aware that she was gawping at him.
“Hi, Rich,” she managed at last.
He grinned. It wasn’t the kind of grin she was used to from Travis; this was a self-satisfied smirk. Brooke suddenly felt a little irritated by his arrogance. He obviously knew he was handsome and looked pleased that she had noticed it too. She took a deep breath as he held the door open for her to leave. “You look lovely tonight,” he murmured as she brushed past him.
“Thank you, so do you,” she replied and then immediately regretted her words when she saw his smug expression.
“I’ve brought my car, as you can see.” Rich gestured to the top-of-the-range sports car that he had parked directly outside the front door of the hotel. Its cobalt-blue metallic finish gleamed in the twilight. Even the hubcaps glinted bright silver in the light. She wondered how come his car managed to look so immaculate when everyone else’s was always covered in dust and dirt. He probably employed someone to do nothing but keep his car clean. Brooke seethed a little at his audacity.
“We can walk from here, it’s only the end of the road,” Brooke replied with a frown.
“Or we could arrive in style.” His smug titter made her grimace.
“I’d much rather get some fresh air, and it’s not raining right now. Do you mind if we walk?”
As Brooke was speaking, he unlocked the car and was about to open the door for her to get in. He sighed irritably. This guy was obviously not used to a woman not complying with his auspicious plans. An angry glint crossed his eyes and Brooke flinched. It was only for a fraction of a second, and then he seemed unperturbed again, but Brooke knew better than to ignore it.
“Very well,” he said with an exasperated flounce and locked the car again.
It was just as well really, as Brooke had already walked past him and his beloved vehicle and was on her way down the drive. He caught up with her within a few strides and casually slung his arm around her shoulder. Although s
he tensed, she thought better than to argue with him, so she said nothing.
“What brought you to Moone?” he asked nonchalantly.
“I had a few days vacation and fancied some peace and quiet. Do you live near here?” Brooke was becoming an expert at fending off questions and knew this guy would be much happier talking about himself than anything else.
He chuckled incredulously. “Don’t you know where I live?”
She frowned. “No. Why would I know that?”
They were on the main street now. He gestured to the mountain behind them. “At the foot of that mountain, to the west, is the Buchanan Ranch.” He sounded like a tour guide, and she rolled her eyes.
“Is it very big?” She could guess the answer but thought it best to indulge him as he was clearly dying to tell her.
He sniggered. “Quite big, sweetheart.” His voice was patronizing and she wanted to kick him. She refrained, but only just.
“I presume it’s your family’s place, then? Do you live at home?” She asked as sweetly as she could, but could tell by his expression that she had hit a raw nerve.
“It’s the family ranch but I kind of run it. I live on my own. I’ve got a shack on the estate. I might take you back there later if you’re a good girl.” He squeezed her tighter, and she thought she was about to vomit.
“Do you ride, Brooke? We’ve got loads of horses. I’ve got a free hour tomorrow afternoon actually. Maybe I could take you out?”
“I do ride, but I’m heading home tomorrow. Thank you anyway.” She smiled sweetly at him.
“Well if things go well tonight, I might just tempt you to stay a little longer.” He sounded snide, which made her skin crawl.
“Sorry, cowboy, I’ve got work to get back to.”
He snorted. “What do you do? Work in a shop?”
She cringed. He obviously had her taped as the “little woman” and anything she said would only give him more ammunition to condescend her with. She thought it best to say nothing and just smiled.
Brooke was still trying to imagine what is was about the supercilious ass that made her think a date with him would actually be fun, when they arrived at the bar.
He led her in and found a table for her to sit at near the front of the stage. To his credit, he was a perfect gentleman and held the chair out for her to sit down before heading for the bar to fetch their drinks.
It was a small, friendly bar with wooden floors and a tiny stage against one wall. A large area had been left bare toward one side of the stage, and several people were already dancing along to an Alan Jackson song being played while the band set up. Brooke smiled at the vast array of outfits they wore. Some of the girls wore dresses or flared skirts while others preferred jeans. Some of them had vest-tops on while others wore shirts or pretty tops. The guys were all in jeans, most of them really smart ones. They mostly wore shirts, although one or two wore T-shirts, showing off their bulging biceps. Quite a few people wore cowboy hats, and certainly looked the part with their thumbs tucked into their belts while they line danced across the floor. This was the sort of place Brooke loved. All the tables looked very old and quite shabby, and all the chairs were odd. It had a homey feel about it. It smelled of wood and beer. Some people were sitting around or standing at the bar chatting excitedly. She recognized Hal at the bar and gave him a wave. He beamed when he saw her. There was no sign of Travis or Kent though, and she felt a little pang of disappointment.
Brooke watched the band set up the last of their equipment. There were four good-looking guys, obviously brothers. She could tell straight away which one was going to be the lead singer—he was already flirting with the girls as he straightened his mic and tidied the leads across the stage. Brooke smirked.
“Here you go,” Rich placed a wineglass in front of her and she sat forward. He poured her a drink and placed the bottle on the table. He was drinking a pint, which he’d already half finished. “What’re you smiling at?” He glanced over toward the stage, but evidently couldn’t see anything comical there.
“Thank you. Oh, it’s nothing really, just some girls eyeing up the band.”
“There’s something about being in a band which seems to have the girls flocking, isn’t there? I can’t see why myself. I usually find people who go around playing a guitar for money never seem to have any.”
Brooke shook her head and sighed.
The band started up as the lights dimmed, and everyone cheered. Big spotlights swooped across the stage, picking out the hunky Brandon Boys.
Brooke was grateful for the distraction, as she was already bored with Rich’s choice of conversation. She tapped her foot in time to the music and found her mood lightening by the minute. Her date seemed to be enjoying himself too. She saw a good-looking guy come up to Rich, place another pint in front of him, and whisper something into his ear. Rich beamed and flushed slightly. Then the man walked away grinning and Rich went back to watching the band.
“Shall we dance?” Rich was on his feet as a catchy tune started up and Brooke stared up at him in surprise. She hadn’t taken him for a dancer.
She smiled and sprang to her feet. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d danced. He led her to the busy dance floor and twirled her around. There were several other people on the floor, and the atmosphere was electric. Those who were sitting down were clapping in time and singing along, and the band was really great.
During a couples dance, one of the guitarists looked over at Brooke and winked. Rich automatically took her in his arms and danced close to her. Brooke flushed. She didn’t see Rich as her type at all, but he sure had a jealous streak.
They stayed on the dance floor most of the night after that. She decided Rich was loads of fun as long as you weren’t trying to make conversation with him.
“Mind if I cut in?”
A deep voice Brooke knew well growled from behind her and her pussy clenched. Rich stepped back, letting go of his date.
“Just this once,” he replied sulkily and nodded to Brooke.
Travis grabbed her from behind and swung her around to face him. Her heart leapt. He looked amazing. He wore a smart turquoise shirt that had the sleeves rolled back, revealing a brown, tan, and turquoise contrasting pattern, which was also featured under the placket and collar. He teamed it with smart black jeans and pointed-toe boots. He smelled divine—Armani was obviously his favorite scent, and it suited him. Brooke placed her hands on his shoulders as the music slowed down. His shirt felt like satin under her trembling hands. His stubble brushed her forehead, and she felt his heat as he pulled her close.
“Having fun, darlin’?” His voice was a deep murmur in her ear, and it did wonderful things to her.
“I am now,” she whispered.
He chuckled deep in his throat, and she felt it reverberate through his ripped chest. He had left half his buttons undone, allowing his chest hair to poke through. Brooke loved that look on him.
“It looked to me like you were getting along fine,” Travis said with a smile.
Brooke looked over to where Rich was strolling toward the door of the bathroom.
“He’s OK, but he’s not you,” she confessed.
Travis’s hot mouth reached down and devoured hers in a long, sensual kiss. His tongue forced its way into her mouth, taking possession of her. She gasped into his mouth as her pussy gushed and she felt his erection dig into her. She was surrounded by his heat, his scent, and his passion. She grabbed at his hair as they kissed and he squeezed her ass, while his other arm wrapped around her like a boa.
All too soon the music stopped and Rich was back, a whiskey in his hand. He was quietly seething.
“Time to give back my date, Beaumont.” Although Rich tried to make it sound like a friendly request, the expression on his face told another story.
Travis slowly pulled away, leaving Brooke feeling bereft. He winked at her and grinned. “See you later, darlin’.” He gave her another quick kiss on the top of her head while Rich downed
his whiskey and placed his glass on a nearby table.
Brooke smiled back at Travis while Rich slipped his arms around her. She watched her cowboy make his way back to the bar and noticed Kent waiting there. Kent looked very smart in his dark jeans and pale green Western-style shirt. Brooke sighed at the sight of the two handsome men and allowed her mind to stray momentarily. If only things had worked out differently for the three of them…
“What’re you thinking about, sweetheart?” Rich’s voice brought her from her reverie, and she gasped when she saw the sinister look on his face. She recognized the expression as one that Chad used to give her when he asked the exact same question. It was a look that said he knew darn well that she wasn’t thinking about him and he wanted her to spell it out to him so he could punish her for it. She tensed in his arms and tried to step backward, but he held her tight.
Rich sniggered. “Now how about some of that lip action you were so keen on giving your cowboy over there?” His voice was a sneer as he leaned in to kiss her. He held her so tight she had nowhere to go, and she smelled the whiskey before his mouth assaulted her lips.
Panic flared through her. She suddenly felt as though Chad was right there, and for a moment she thought she could even smell him. Her blood ran cold and prickles raced up her back as horror engulfed her. Rich’s mouth attacked hers and she tried to scream. Her hands thumped his arms, trying to loosen his grip. She tried to shake her head to get away from his mouth, but he was too strong. Eventually she did the only thing she could think of. She drew her knee up hard into his balls.
Rich crumpled, letting go of her as if she had the plague. “You bitch! I’ll—”
“You’ll do nothing, Rich Buchanan, unless you want to spend the night in a cell. Now leave the lady alone.”
Tears streamed down Brooke’s face and she trembled. Kent wrapped his arms around her and led her away from the dance floor. Travis took hold of Rich and hauled him outside.
Kent led Brooke to a quiet corner of the room and held her while she sobbed, trembling. “I-I didn’t want him to…” she stammered.
Ménage on Moone Mountain Page 9