by Gigi Moore
He didn’t want this to end, didn’t want to imagine how empty his arms would feel once he let her go, but knew condemnation approached, if not from him then from her, because why would a poised and polished city slicker want to be pawed by a country boy like him? Why would she want to get involved with an animal?
Desiree’s breath came out in pants, her movements distinctly hostile and agitated even as she slid her hands into his hair and fisted a nice hank at the nape. He felt the push-pull of her actions before she finally tried to fend him off in earnest. When she jerked her hands from his hair and punched her small fists into his chest, Carson got the picture and released her. He didn’t step back quick enough to avoid the hard slap she delivered to his cheek, though.
It proved a nice wake-up call, one he had to admit he needed.
Carson shook his head and glanced down at her standing in front of him, unable to miss the way her full breasts pushed against the soft cotton of her Western shirt as she breathed heavily. He especially was unable to miss the stunned look on her face.
He wondered what stunned her more, that he had kissed her or that she had kissed him back as passionately as she had. That proved at least one thing he was certain of. She’d wanted that kiss as much as he had.
What had happened inside that beautiful head of hers in the span of seconds to make her pull back so violently?
Carson wanted to blame his brother and Desiree, anyone but himself, for the tangle his emotions were in right then, but he couldn’t really muster the energy, not when he remembered the look on her face when he’d shown his appreciation for her pie.
Spending this time with her and enjoying her dessert as well as her lips had been a rare indulgence and a nice break from the usual Old West exhibitions and shootouts he participated in. As much of a disruption as her appearance had been, he couldn’t even bring himself to regret her unscheduled visit.
Problem was, any time he spent with her would prove as much of a façade as the Western town. It wouldn’t be real, not for him, because they couldn’t go anywhere.
He almost reached for his heated face where she’d struck him, but Carson fought the impulse. He wanted to protect her, if only from her own regret and shame. Besides, he’d deserved it for taking advantage of the situation even if he hadn’t exactly taken advantage of her.
Wordlessly, Carson turned from her and mounted Free, then reached down to help Desiree up into the saddle. She accepted his help this time without comment or complaint. She took his offered hand before easily sliding her left foot into the stirrup and swinging her other leg up to settle into the saddle behind him all cuddly and snuggly like a tick.
Carson closed his eyes and gritted his teeth when she curled her arms around his waist and pressed her cheek against his back. Her body heat practically singed the skin beneath his shirt, made him tense and hard.
What was she trying to do? Torture him?
“I’m sorry,” she whispered.
Were tears now moistening the back of his shirt? Merde!
Yep, she was definitely trying to torture him, no doubt about it. “Me, too.”
* * * *
Carson entered the barn determined to give Sam a good talking to, but before he could open his mouth to say anything, Sam slammed his fist into his jaw.
The blow caught him totally off guard and spun him around. The basket of pie he was carrying went flying out of his hand and hit the floor, kicking up dust a couple of feet away.
Seeing stars, Carson shook his head and flexed his sore jaw, the same one Desiree had earlier slapped. Boy, the little peeshwank could pack a wallop, that was for sure. “That’s the second time today someone has felt the need to hit me.”
“Wonder what you did to deserve it the first time.”
“Nothing she didn’t want me to.”
“Is that why I smell her tears on you?”
“That all you smell on me?”
Carson couldn’t help the smart-ass remark despite the dangerous glint in his brother’s eyes. He messed with Sam’s head and he knew it. He couldn’t, however, stop himself. He especially couldn’t stop the smug look he felt automatically lifting a corner of his mouth into a roguish grin that surely taunted Sam’s possessive sensibilities. He knew his brother. Kid remained an eternal idealist and had a chivalrous streak as big, if not bigger, than Carson’s. If he thought Carson had done anything to sully Desiree’s reputation, he’d want to do something to rectify things.
Carson glanced down at his brother’s hands flexing into fists at his sides. He should put the kid out of his misery before this went too far and they both did or said something they’d regret, all because of a woman. Although Desiree, Sybilesque mood swings and all, was worth fighting over.
He didn’t want to let Sam think him a complete bastard or that Desiree was in any way flawed but briefly thought fostering either or both conditions might be a good idea if it kept Sam from nurturing any romantic notions toward Desiree. In the end, he decided against it, silently vowing to do as little damage to Desiree’s reputation as possible. “Stop wearing your heart on your sleeve, Sam. I kissed her. That’s it. Just a kiss.” He wished he could say that and really mean it, because it had been much more than a kiss for him. That was the problem.
“You did more than that, whether you realize it or not. I saw her when she got off your horse and she looked…devastated.”
“Oh don’t be so melodramatic!” Was she devastated from just a kiss? Had he gone too far?
Sam peered at his brother. “You don’t fool me one bit.”
Carson squinted back then pushed by Sam to retrieve the basket.
“She got to you, didn’t she?”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Yeah, I do. You kissed her thinking to try and get her out of your system, prove to yourself that it wouldn’t be a big deal and she wasn’t worth all the ruminating. But she got inside your head, got past that well-guarded self-control and distance.”
Carson stood and pushed the basket into Sam’s chest. “I saved you some pie.”
Sam took the basket.
“She said you could drop the basket off at the house when you’re done.” Hell, he’d throw his brother at Desiree the same way Sam had thrown her at him. Sam deserved a normal romantic life. Let him have Desiree if she’d take him. Carson couldn’t risk it, decided he just wouldn’t fall into the trap with Sam. At least this way he’d stay outside the circle his brother seemed determined to draw him into, detached and ready to put a stop to things if they got to be too much for Sam to handle or if their cover might be blown.
He knew he’d probably have better luck stopping a runaway locomotive with his face, but let the kid have his fun, at least as much as he could before the hammer dropped and they had to make another great escape.
“Is that really what she said?”
Carson turned to face his brother. “What do you mean?”
“Are you sure she didn’t say you could drop it off at the house?”
“What difference does it make as long as she gets the damn thing back?” Carson headed toward the door but his brother stepped in front of him to block his path.
“The difference is you like her same as I do.”
“I don’t have time for this.”
Sam grabbed his arm as Carson tried to push past him. “Don’t play the self-sacrificing older brother on this, Carson. You think I’d be happy with her knowing you want her, too, and denied yourself?”
“The question is moot since she doesn’t seem to want me, isn’t it?”
“I don’t believe that.”
Despite his earlier promise to himself, Carson said, “Haven’t you been listening to me? She slapped the crap out of me. Either the girl is a serious prude like I said, or she’s got some other heavier issues that neither of us need to be dealing with right now.”
“Speak for yourself. You’re just trying to discourage me.”
Carson sighed. “Obv
iously it’s not working.”
“It’s not just me she wants. I know that with everything in me.”
“Why, are you so sure? What aren’t you telling me, Sam?” He watched his brother flush and hesitate as if he was questioning the wisdom of coming clean to Carson. He was almost afraid to hear what Sam had to say and quickly added before his brother could respond, “I think you’ve been hanging around Tamara and Jess and Jax too much.”
“They’re happy. They’re making things work.”
“That’s them. We’ve got other issues to deal with besides the potential ménage a trois you seem intent on promoting, in case you’ve forgotten.”
“I haven’t forgotten, dammit! It’s not like I can run away or change who or what I am.”
Carson’s breath hitched in his chest at the ragged tone of his brother’s voice.
The forced isolationism was finally getting to the kid. He could see it in the dark circles under Sam’s eyes. Kid was only twenty-four, too young to be carrying around Mama’s and Carson’s burdens on his shoulders in addition to his own. Now he was talking about taking on Desiree’s. “Sam, what do you think can happen between us and Desiree? Do you think she can handle what we are? Really?”
“I think we owe it to ourselves to find out.”
Carson sighed again and shook his head. “She’s been hurt.”
“What human being who’s reached adulthood hasn’t been?”
Carson didn’t say anything, but he knew a man had hurt Desiree badly in the past and not just some average break-up-make-up drama or some guy who hadn’t called her after she’d given in and slept with him. This was much worse. He could feel it in his bones. A man had hurt her inside and out, had damaged her psyche.
He wasn’t sure that he and Sam were the men to repair it, repair her, and he didn’t know if he wanted that responsibility anyway. The look in her eyes when she’d slapped him told him that he couldn’t handle her kind of pain without committing himself and opening up to her as much as he’d have to make her open up to them. This he couldn’t do. There could be no quid pro quo in the relationship, something he knew a woman like Desiree needed and would demand.
“What are you trying so hard not to tell me, Carson?”
“Forget I said anything.”
“You’re afraid.”
Carson chuckled as his heart thudded in his chest. “Speak for yourself.”
“I’m not the one backing away from something that could be wonderful just because one of the party’s been hurt.”
“There’s hurt and there’s hurt, Sam.”
“Everyone deserves to be loved.”
“Couillon!” Carson cuffed him upside the head. “Who died and made you her knight in shining armor?”
“Just because you say you don’t want the job don’t try and dissuade me.”
“You’re really not going to let this go, are you?” He didn’t miss the emphasis his brother put on say, questioning Carson’s resolve not to have anything to do with Desiree. He didn’t miss that Sam knew he was just blowing smoke up both their asses to get Sam to drop the subject of Desiree plus them.
Sam shrugged. “There’s something there. I feel it. I don’t want to let it slip through my fingers and spend the rest of my life wondering what could have been.”
Carson already wondered.
Thing was, he knew what could have been. He’d touched and smelled what could have been. For one glorious moment he’d held what could have been in his arms and felt her quivering pleasure when he’d kissed her.
He wanted that again, but would a few hours glorying in her arms, reveling in her pussy, be worth the risk? In the long run, would it be worth their freedom once Remy or their pack discovered their whereabouts because one of them slipped up and shared something with someone they shouldn’t have?
Carson put his hands on his brother’s shoulders and stared into his eyes. “Do you know what you’ll be risking, getting involved with Desiree, getting more than casual about any woman?”
“I’m not as strong as you, Carson. I need to be needed. I want to know love.”
“And you think I don’t?”
“Do you?”
“I want what Mama and Daddy had.”
Sam goggled and Carson realized his mistake. This little talk was chipping away at his armor, Sam finishing the job Desiree had started earlier.
“Why shouldn’t you go for it? Why shouldn’t we?” Sam asked.
“Because we aren’t always meant to have what we want.” Carson ought to know, since he wanted his parents to be together and around forever. He wanted his family back, intact, but that wasn’t going to happen.
“Stop blaming yourself for Daddy’s death,” Sam murmured.
“I don’t blame myself.”
“But you blame yourself for not being able to protect Mama after.”
“I don’t want to talk about it.” Carson swallowed hard, remembering how for years after Dad’s death Mama had to fend off Remy’s advances.
It didn’t matter to Carson that the alpha waited a respectable amount of time after Dad died. No time would have been respectable enough to accept another man into his life, as his father, especially not the man Carson suspected of having a hand in his father’s death.
“I know you think you should have gone up against the pack with your suspicions, but Mama made the right choice, Carson. There was no way you could have won, not against that powerful an alpha.”
“She should have let me try.”
“We didn’t have enough proof. Mama took the path of least resistance for all of us.”
They’d never believed his assumptions about Remy, hadn’t seen what he had when Dad was alive, the way the alpha looked at Mama even then. He would make them see it, though, show them all exactly the sort of man Remy was…someday. “So now we’re outcasts without a home or people to call our own.”
“It was either that or watching you executed, unless Remy decided to be merciful and let you fight for alpha privileges.”
Carson fisted his hands in frustration. He would have gladly fought Remy. Better to die fighting than go out with a whimper and the truth untold.
He stared at Sam and thought about all that his mama and brother had given up to save his too-noble and proud hide. They deserved better than a life on the run, hiding like animals.
Sam gripped his shoulder. “Listen, I want to be with Desiree if she’ll have me, but I won’t make a move without your and Mama’s blessing.”
“Now who’s being self-sacrificing?”
Sam shrugged and Carson could see the strain finally catching up with him after ten years—five on the run and five mourning the death of their father before that.
Mama’s blessing was a given. She wanted her sons happy and had been trying to get Carson and Sam to do more socializing since they’d arrived at The Double R almost a year ago. Her motto was why let Remy win by only living half a life?
Could he in good conscience deny Sam’s chance to achieve Mama and Daddy’s sort of love with Desiree if that proved his fate?
Sam hadn’t been all that young, granted, but family loyalty had allowed him to be dragged along for the ride when Kara helped Mama break Carson out of Remy’s stronghold.
Over their years on the run, Carson often wondered what had become of his ex-girlfriend. Kara had been a good friend to the family even after their breakup and one of their only allies, at least the only one willing to act so boldly. She’d risked much to help them. Knowing Remy as he did, she couldn’t have fared well, and this bothered Carson more than he could say. Protecting the smaller and the weak—children, females, humans—had been a part of his DNA since before his father’s death. The instinct had only grown stronger after Dad’s death. To think that he had failed to protect Kara—someone he cared about and knew intimately—or that Kara had suffered for helping him and his family made him feel like more of a failure than he did already.
Much like Kara, however, when the three
of them went on the run, they’d challenged Remy’s authority, adding fuel to the fire after what Carson had done. Sam’s going along had probably saved his life. No telling what Remy would have convinced the pack to do to him as punishment against Mama and Carson. He’d been in a pretty self-righteous mood and well within his rights to ask for blood. Not to mention it was his perfect opportunity to bargain for Mama’s allegiance. Carson would keep his life and freedom if Mama gave herself to Remy.
Remy and the pack weren’t here, though, and Sam and Carson were.
“Do what you have to do, Sam.”
“You mean that?”
“Yeah. Go for it.”
“What about you?”
“Don’t worry about me. I’ll do what needs to be done one way or the other.” Lay in the cut, have his brother’s back like Sam and his mama had his back, and make sure Sam didn’t get hurt too bad when the bottom finally fell out and they all had to go on the run again.
If we go on the run again.
Carson intended to make a stand. He was old enough now, strong enough to at least try.
Remy needed to pay for what he had taken from all of them. It was long past due.
Chapter 6
Remy sat back on the overstuffed leather sofa and crossed one ankle over the opposite knee, taking in his opulent surroundings and impressed with what he found.
The carpet on which his sole rested was plush, cushioning his feet in decadent comfort, the burgundy color complimenting the vivid earth tones of the walls and the furniture. The gender-neutral appearance appealed to his alpha sensibilities. A sensualist by nature, Remy also liked the artwork—sculptures and paintings—strategically scattered throughout the waiting area along with lush, broad-leaved potted plants. He thought the overall effect was an elegant and stylish reflection of the beautiful and intelligent owner.