Branded

by Stacy Gail

  Seriously, the man needed to time his damn conversations better. “Ry...oh, God.”

  “Yeah, I’d say we have a deal.”

  She nearly cried in relief when his mouth found hers again. When her fumbling hands zeroed in on the fastenings of his jeans, the pleased rumble that vibrated through his chest made everything girly inside of her squeal in triumph. The haze of pleasure had almost shut her down completely, to the point that the only thing that mattered was having him inside her, stretching her walls and plunging into her so hard she’d feel him there forever.

  The feverish urgency that pushed her to rip at his belt and top button of his jeans came to a crashing halt when suddenly he caught her wrist, his head jerking up while the hand down her panties went still.

  No!

  “What the hell is that?” As if he were oblivious that every cell in her body was screaming with mind-blowing tension that needed release—badly—he looked back over his shoulder. “Do you hear that?”

  “No.” What she heard was her own need thrumming through her body. The vicious hunger to have him inside her blocked everything out, from the birds in the trees to the sound of an approaching throaty motor.

  Oh.

  Oh, no...

  “What the hell kind of asshole neighbor has goddamn power equipment running this early in the fucking morning?” Well and thoroughly put out, Ry tossed out more random swear words as he craned his neck to see over the garden’s high fence. Then he sighed. “Shit. You’re not going to believe this.”

  “Willard Padgett. On a mini tractor. Coming this way.” Hurriedly she dove her hands under her shirt to refasten her bra, while desire clamored for relief in a way she’d never felt before. “Am I right?”

  “Unfortunately.” Looking pained, Ry raised a reluctant hand in obvious greeting. “Fuck, fuck, fuck. He just spotted us. Now we have to be nice. How the hell am I supposed to be nice with a goddamn hard-on?”

  “Do up your pants,” she implored, quickly taking her own advice. “He’s here to hill my potatoes.”

  He absorbed that while reluctantly doing as she asked. “If we were talking about a younger man, I think I’d get pissed as hell at that. I’d probably assume you meant he was going to plow you good and proper, or some damn thing.”

  “My actual freaking potatoes,” she said, flinging a hand to the edge of the garden before running her hands over her hair. “How do I look? Do I look...” Ravished? Horny as hell? “Do I look presentable?”

  He glanced back at her, and his face softened in a way that made her belly swoop. “Presentable? Woman, you’re so damn beautiful it hurts me in all the right places just looking at you.”

  “Really?”

  “Hell, yeah, really.” A faint smile curled the corner of his mouth before he pressed a kiss to her brow. The caress was so tender it made her throat tighten and eyes sting. “In fact, you’d better stop looking so beautiful, or I just might not give a shit we’re about to have company.”

  “Don’t you dare.” Just when she thought her insides couldn’t get any squishier, she remembered what had kept her up all night. Like that, the distress flooded back in with a vengeance. “Ry?”

  “I’m right here, darlin’.”

  “You think I’m beautiful...even though I’m a horrible person?”

  He raised a brow. “What?”

  “I can’t believe I didn’t see how offensive my behavior was toward you and your brothers over the years, or what a hypocrite I am,” she said, cringing. “I mean, harassing you the way I did... Ry, if you’d ever treated me the way I treated you in the past, I would’ve filed a restraining order.”

  “You were an idiot kid.” Chuckling, he pulled her close when she would have buried her face in her hands. “Idiot kids do idiot things, but there was always something different about you. Something better. Aside from your killer legs, amazing ass and black magic eyes, I mean.”

  She blushed all the way from her navel to the top of her head, and it took a monumental effort not to outright fan herself. “What could be better than all that?”

  “The way you drive your car.”

  It was her turn to be confused. “Uh, what?”

  “I know the guy who sold it to you told you to take good care of it, so you drive it like a nervous granny out of respect for him. Then there’s all the window art you do for Pauline’s Praline Sweet Shoppe. You’ve been doing those fancy murals for free ever since you started working there, and you do it because you love Pauline, Willard and Lucy. Then there’s this garden that you tend for Pauline and her special diet for her gout, when you’re not a fan of vegetables and you really hate bugs. There’s your great taste in music and how much you love to move to it—something that I enjoy more than you could possibly know. There’s also how trusting you are, though that’s a problem for me because you can’t imagine that there’s anyone out there in the world who’s so fucked up in the head they’d peep on you through the damn windows you leave open all—”

  “Wait,” she interrupted, shaking her head in bewilderment. “Why do you even know all that about me?”

  “Because when it comes to you, it’s impossible for me to not pay attention. And what I see when I look at you,” he added, running his fingers through her hair while Willard rumbled to a halt beside Ry’s truck outside the garden gate, “is a woman who’s as beautiful on the inside as she is on the outside. That’s why you’re special to me, darlin’.”

  His admission caused a blossoming of warmth inside, as if his words were melting her.

  You’re special to me, darlin’...

  At that moment, Willard came through the gate. As she turned to face him, Ry pulled her close to his side, brushing another swift kiss over her hair as he did.

  And all the while, that melting warmth remained.

  Chapter Eight

  “Quick question,” Celia announced as she entered the kitchen at the back of Pauline’s Praline Sweet Shoppe, dressed in her painter’s clothes of denim overall shorts and a T-shirt. “Do I drive like a granny?”

  Standing at the center work station, Lucy and her best friend, Coe Rodas—the former owner of and current mechanic for Celia’s car—looked up from the task of boxing up cupcakes topped with heaps of blue frosting.

  “You damn well better drive like a granny,” Coe said, pointing a cupcake in her general direction. “I’ll take my car away from you if you don’t.”

  “Coe, Celia’s been driving that car for years now, she paid hard-earned money for it and created the artwork for a couple tattoos for you as well.” Lucy closed up one box before reaching for another. “I think it’s safe to say it’s her car at this point, not yours.”

  “And I think it’s safe to say I have attachment issues. I repeat, she’d better drive my car like a fuckin’ granny.”

  “Ignore him,” Lucy advised, rolling her eyes. “That’s what I do whenever he starts spouting nonsense.”

  Celia popped a thumbs-up. “So noted.”

  “Why are you talking about granny-driving, anyway?” Lucy went on, placing blue-topped cupcakes into their little plastic holders at top speed. “Did someone honk at you or flip you the bird?”

  “It’s just something Ry said the other day.” Unfortunately she hadn’t had the opportunity to delve into the subject with Ry more deeply. She’d been called by her boss at DigiLife Marketing shortly after Willard had arrived. Shortly after that she’d found herself heading into San Antonio for an all-day skull session with a new client. Then it had been Ry’s turn to fly himself back to Houston to wrap up his business, and while they’d talked and texted each other several times since, she hadn’t seen him in days. Her libido had been unceremoniously put on hold—a fact that had her suffering through distracting fantasies while sleeping and awake—and she was now more familiar with sexual frustration than she ever wanted to be.

&nb
sp; “Ry? As in Ryland Brody?” Coe’s dark brows came together. “Did he say he’s got a problem with how you drive? You want me to explain to him how wrong he is?”

  “Before the pissing contest can begin, you should know that you’ve got the wrong end of the stick on this one, Coe.” Lucy smiled, clearly used to his junkyard-dog protectiveness. “Ry and Celia are seeing each other.”

  “What, like in dating?”

  “I’m certainly not referring to how epic their eyesight is.”

  “It’s nothing official,” Celia hastened to say, simply because she had no clue where she and Ry were headed herself. “We’re just at the beginning stages. Who are all these cupcakes for, anyway?”

  “My boy’s second birthday party’s tomorrow. Which you’re invited to, by the way,” Coe said absently, eyes narrowed as he regarded her. “Miranda’s ready to murder me because I forgot to mail the invites. I ask you, who the hell sends out handwritten invitations to a two-year-old’s birthday party? Aidan won’t remember any of it, and most of these cupcakes are going to end up smashed all over his face, so what the hell’s the big deal?”

  “You’re the one who married a Brookhaven, so don’t go crying about it now.” Popping another box closed, Lucy slanted Celia a glance. “I still can’t believe you’re seeing Ry Brody, after that absurd scene he caused at The Spot.”

  “You kidding me? The scene Ry caused?” Coe barreled into the conversation, apparently up to date on what had happened months earlier. Thanks, Bitterthorn, Celia thought on a sigh. “Dude deserves a medal for his restraint, the way I see it.”

  That made Celia’s brows shoot up. “Wait, what? Restraint? Seriously?”

  “Hell, yeah, seriously. I would’ve put you over my knee and tanned your ass in front of the whole fucking town for playing grab-ass like that,” he said, shooting her a stern look that made her feel about as old as Aidan. “Whether you like it or not, facts are facts, Cel. And the fact is it’s dangerous for women to get that shitfaced in public, then come on to a man when they’re obviously not in control. You’re lucky you made moves on a decent guy who’d never dream of taking advantage of you. I just hope that lesson Ry taught you sank in, and you’ll never be so damn careless with your safety again.”

  “Believe me, I won’t.”

  “Good, because you matter to a lot of people in this town, you got that? Including Miranda, Aidan and me, so feel free to bring Ry to Growing Garden Park tomorrow around two. You can watch Aidan squish blue frosting up his nose while I go about explaining to Ry that you drive the way you do for a reason.”

  Celia smiled. “Ry’s not even in town right now, and I’m going to be working all weekend on a new campaign, I’m afraid. But I’ll be sure to drop a present by the garage for Aidan later on.”

  “Face it, pal,” Lucy smirked, stacking the last of the cupcake boxes into a neat pile. “It’s just going to be the Jax tribe and the Padgetts at the party, since you blanked on mailing the invites. And speaking of Willard Padgett,” she went on to Celia while Coe offered a groaning sigh. “He told Pauline, who then told me, that he didn’t think you and Ry were just at the beginning stages, as you put it. Word is, Willard rolled up early to your place a few mornings back, only to find that you and Ry were already together. He had the idea that since it was so early in the morning, maybe Ry had been there the whole night?”

  “That’s the problem with Bitterthorn,” Celia muttered while her face grew uncomfortably warm. “One person gets a glimpse of a totally innocent scene, and the next thing you know it’s been turned into a daytime soap opera.”

  “Get married,” Coe suggested and grabbed a cupcake out of a box to shove a good portion of it into his mouth. “People lose interest in you the moment you say I do.”

  “The question is,” Lucy wanted to know, “was it totally innocent?”

  “Yeah, it was. Ry and I had had some words the night before, and he came back bright and early the next day to lay down the law that we were never going to fight like that again and then leave it to fester overnight. That’s all there was to it.”

  “That’s a good plan,” Coe offered around a mouthful of cupcake. “Never sleep on a fight. Yell it out and then go to bed together. Makes for great makeup sex.”

  Again Celia’s face heated up. “We are nowhere near that level yet.”

  “Geez, then get to that level already. That’s probably the reason why you guys fought in the first place.”

  “Coe Rodas, mechanical genius and relationship counselor.” Lucy snorted, shaking her head. “You should hang out a sign.”

  “I’ll give that advice some thought as I decorate the front windows,” Celia drawled, waving a hand as she made her escape to the spray bottles, acrylics and brushes she’d dropped off in the front room.

  Giving thought to having sex with Ry was pretty much a guarantee, she thought wryly as she went about stripping off the old paint—the mural she’d done of a groundhog having tea with his shadow under a tree beginning to bud. Thanks to their interrupted time together, she’d been unable to think about anything else. Absence was supposed to make the heart grow fonder, but no one had ever told her it also made a person horny as all get out.

  Now she knew.

  More’s the pity.

  Thanks to bad timing, she hadn’t had the opportunity to see just how explosive she and Ry could be beyond a handful of mega-hot kisses. Sure, those kisses were a good indicator that their sexy times were going to be off the charts, but it wasn’t a guarantee.

  But she had hope.

  And frustration.

  Lots and lots of frustration.

  After spraying a solution of water, soap and a touch of windshield wiper fluid on the inside of the window, Celia took a large bladed wallpaper scraper and scraped the groundhog mural off the glass, letting the familiar task empty her mind. She’d already sketched out the new mural at home, and was busily painting blades of bright green grass, a veggie garden scene, and partially hidden Easter eggs when someone outside knocked on the window. She jumped and looked up quickly to see Des and Fin Brody grinning at her, phones out and obviously taking pictures of her.

  “Dumbasses,” she muttered, refusing to press a hand to her heart to calm its wigged-out racing. What she did do was flip them off before pointedly going back to her work. Before she could get back into her artistic groove, however, the door to the bakery opened with a jingle.

  “Hey, Celia,” Fin greeted, putting his phone away while the youngest of the Brody brothers, Desmond, kept his out, clearly videoing the scene. For that alone, she figured she couldn’t be blamed for wanting to fling a paintbrush his way. “Fancy meeting you here. Say hi to Ry, by the way.”

  “What?” Again her attention snapped to them while the ever-present hunger to see Ry’s face became a physical ache. Good grief, she had to be losing her mind. “Ry?”

  “Yeah, he wanted to make sure we didn’t screw up the bakery order we’re here to place for Green Rock’s barbecue next weekend, so he insisted we come down here in person with him on live chat,” Des drawled, then waved the phone around. “Talk about a control freak.”

  “Shut the hell up and the give the phone to Celia, you morons, ” Ry’s voice commanded clearly from the phone. “And even though Celia and I are solid now, don’t forget the rules.”

  “Rules?” Celia slanted a questioning look Des’s way, even as she recalled Ry had mentioned something about rules to Fin earlier.

  Des, whose black hair had a deeper wave to it than Finian’s, rolled eyes that were shaped a bit bigger than his brothers, and were the lightest sea-glass green she’d ever seen. “Ry has rules when it comes to you. Lots and lots of rules.”

  “What rules?” Instead of answering her question, Des shook his head, handed over the phone and beat a hasty retreat to where Fin greeted Lucy at the counter. Turning the phone around, Celia looked into the
screen now filled with Ry’s drop-dead gorgeous face. “What rules?”

  “You already know some of them. I reminded Fin about them, remember?”

  She stared. “You mean when you said you didn’t want him to speak my name or even think about me?”

  “Exactly. Those rules. They also can’t be alone with you, or smile at you, or make any personal comments that might be construed as flirting, and the only time they’re allowed to touch you is if you’ve somehow managed to catch yourself on fire. That kind of thing.”

  “Holy crap,” she said faintly, not quite able to get her mouth shut. “You know that’s crazy, right? Please tell me you know that.”

  “I don’t see what’s crazy about it. You’re mine, and I’ve done my best to make that crystal fucking clear to my idiot brothers.”

  Just when she thought he couldn’t stun her any more than he already had. “You really think of me as being yours?”

  “Damn straight.”

  For some reason, the absolute confirmation made her want to shiver, but she still had her pride. “I wasn’t aware that I could become anyone’s without my express consent. When exactly did this happen?”

  “The night you grabbed my ass and told me I was what you wanted for your belated birthday present.”

  “I thought I offended you by doing that.”

  He snorted. “Hardly.”

  “Not to mention it happened months ago and you never made a move in my direction after that.”

  “So what? It’s not like you grabbing my ass had an expiration date on it.”

  Oh, the arrogance. “So basically you’re saying you left me hanging and only went for me when you were in the mood?”

  “I’m saying that despite all the years and mileage I’ve got on you, I wasn’t going to wait another fucking moment to make my move,” came the brutal reply. “Now, are you going to keep trying to pick a fight, or are you going to say hello to me?”