The Cowboy's Thirty-Day Fling

by Jenna Jacob

  Before she could finish her sentence, a thunderous explosion rocked the house. Like a mighty earthquake, the floor shook and creaked beneath their feet, followed by the sound of breaking glass. The unholy cacophony of chaos was so loud and unexpected, Brea screamed. Sawyer tucked an arm around her waist and rolled them both to the unforgiving floor. Ozzie’s frantic barks grew louder as he began clawing at the other side of the bedroom door. The blood-chilling sound of his claws gouging into the wood made her heart slam faster and harder against her ribs.

  “What the hell happened?” she gasped.

  “Gunshot.”

  “Gunshot? That sounded more like a goddamn cannon.” Brea thrashed beneath his body, struggling to get up.

  “What are you doing?” he growled. “Stay still.”

  “I need to check on Ozzie. He might be hurt.”

  “I’ll get him. Don’t move,” Sawyer demanded as he stood.

  “Why would anyone want to shoot Barbara’s house?” Ignoring his order, Brea sat up.

  Sawyer shook his head, clearly at a loss for words. When he opened the bedroom door, Ozzie came bounding in—hackles up and teeth bared. He looked downright ferocious. She knelt, and the snarling dog rushed to her, sniffing her arms and face, as if taking inventory to see if his human was still in one piece.

  “Come back here, you dirty, no good, sum’bitch!” a man bellowed from the front yard.

  “Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Sawyer hissed as he stormed to the window and threw back the drapes.

  “Get back here, you coward. I know I winged ’ya. Dagblast it. Now I gotta hunt you down to finish you off.”

  Checking Ozzie over for any injuries he might have sustained from the mêlée downstairs, Brea tipped a quizzical gaze up at Sawyer. “Who is that?”

  He didn’t reply, simply jerked the window open and stuck his head out into the darkness. “Goddammit, Emmett.”

  The crazy Bigfoot dude? Priceless.

  “What the hell are you doing?” Sawyer scolded. “Trying to kill us?”

  “Not you, Neville. I was trying to put Bigfoot down,” Emmett called out. “I caught the smelly, fuzzy bastard peeking in Barbara’s window down here.”

  “You sure it was Bigfoot and not something else…like a man?”

  “Instead of yelling at me, you should be thanking me for saving your life and that purdy young girl who’s staying here. Bigfoot could have had her as an appetizer…or worse, both of you for his dinner.”

  No longer in protect mode, Ozzie started licking Brea’s face and wagging his tail, until she pushed him away and stood. “Enough, brave boy. I’m fine.”

  Moving alongside Sawyer, she peered out the window. Emmett stood in the middle of the yard, cradling a giant shotgun.

  “So why didn’t you kill it?” Sawyer yelled, clearly pissed.

  “I tried. That crafty, sum’bitch, turned tail and ran ’fore I could get off another shot.”

  “One that would have finished taking down the house, no doubt,” Brea mumbled under her breath.

  In the distance, a siren wailed. Ozzie whined and cocked his head. Brea stroked the fur between his ears, trying to calm him.

  “Sounds like Jasper’s on his way. Stay there. We’re coming down, and whatever you do, don’t shoot.” Sawyer closed the window and sucked in a deep breath. “We’d better go see how much damage that crazy fucker’s done.”

  “Why isn’t he in a mental hospital? Clearly, the man certifiably insane.” Brea slapped her hands on her hips with a huff.

  The lingering fragments of terror slid from his eyes as they slowly raked a wistful caress down her body. Regret lined his face.

  “No argument there. Emmett’s definitely a few cornflakes short of a full box.”

  As she watched Sawyer button his shirt, Brea realized how easy it had been to slide back to old, familiar patterns. How ridiculously naïve she’d been to believe that since Sawyer didn’t love her or want her to move in, she could scrape away the fragile resolve she’d been crafting and glue it back in place at her leisure. How stupid she’d been to think she was finally in control. Brea wasn’t in control of anything.

  Clearly, the crazy shot gun toting fool in the front yard wasn’t the only one a few cornflakes short. Brea’s box was half-empty as well.

  If Emmett hadn’t shot up Barbara’s house, Brea would be on her back, knees spread and ankles locked around Sawyer’s narrow waist, making yet one more monumental mistake.

  Until she quit letting her hormones rule her brain, grew a spine, and found the willpower to stick to her convictions, Brea had no business being alone with any man, especially Sawyer.

  “Brea.” He said her name in a sharp, brittle tone. Turning, she found Sawyer intently watching her. His lips were pressed in a tight, angry line. “Don’t start second-guessing this. When we’re done dealing with Emmett, we will be talking this out.”

  Brea was about to decline that conversation but held her tongue when blue and red strobes began dancing off the walls while the blaring siren screamed even louder.

  Taking her hand, Sawyer led her downstairs. When they reached the bottom step, the siren fell silent, which only punctuated the macabre carnage decorating Barbara’s living room.

  The plate-glass window had been blown to bits. Shards of glass, like jagged teeth, refracted prisms of light from the police car and sent them dancing around the room like a seventies disco ball. What was left of the curtains was billowing in the warm night air now wafting into the house.

  Fragments of glass littered the hardwoods, and buckshot peppered the drywall.

  “Oh, god,” she gasped. “Look at this mess.”

  “Drop your shotgun, Emmett,” came a command from outside.

  “Aw, for crying out loud, Jasper. You know I ain’t gonna shoot ya,” the crazy Bigfoot hunter drawled.

  After praising him for his protection, Brea closed Ozzie off in the mudroom so he wouldn’t cut his paws, then headed back to join Sawyer. When she rounded the corner of the kitchen, all three men were standing in the living room.

  Emmett wore the same curmudgeon expression he had at the Binge and Bag, while Jasper—the fit and handsome forty-something cop, with tinges of gray at his temples—pinned the old man with a dispassionate expression. Sawyer had his hands on his hips with anger blazing in his eyes as he inspected the damage.

  The cop’s badge glimmered in the recessed lights overhead and brought an oily rush of déjà vu. She could still smell the stench of urine and stale sweat that permeated the holding cell. Logically, Brea knew she wasn’t going to be caged in that hellhole again, but it didn’t lessen the anxiety spiking or the bile burning the back of her throat.

  Staring at the cop, she sank to the couch, wrapped her arms around her middle, and tried to stave off an encroaching panic attack. Sawyer ate up the distance between them in three long strides. Brows slashed in concern, he knelt in front of her, blocking her view of the cop, and gently cupped her chin.

  “Don’t worry. I’ll have the house fixed up long before Barbara returns.”

  “I’m not worried about that.”

  Brea couldn’t mask the quiver in her voice or keep herself from glancing up at Jasper.

  Sawyer followed her gaze and frowned. “Why does Jasper upset you? Are you wanted for something?”

  His whisper was slathered in suspicion. Brea shook her head and clenched her jaw. The man she’d been ready to bang ten minutes ago thought her a fugitive. A new kind of misery invaded her soul. She’d climbed in bed with guys who’d probably thought worse of her, but for some strange reason, Sawyer’s opinion mattered. Maybe fragments of her self-respect had been jarred loose in that godforsaken holding cell. Or maybe she was finally beginning to wise up.

  What do I really know about Sawyer?

  Brea knew he liked steak, beer, and bringing joy to sick kids. He also enjoyed kinky sex with three skinny, big-breasted, beautiful women…at the same time. She couldn’t fault him for his appetite. She’d carved
plenty of notches in her bedpost, too.

  In many ways, they were surprisingly similar. Maybe Sawyer used his body to connect with women the way she did with men. It would explain his desire to seduce her, but Brea ached for something more. Sadly, she’d never find it in the mesmerizing stare of Sawyer Grayson. The man was as big a player as she. Or rather as she used to be.

  “I don’t believe you,” Sawyer softly whispered. “Jasper is freaking you out. Is it because you were in jail?”

  Colton! You son of a bitch!

  “What else did Colton—”

  “He didn’t say anything. I heard you two talking about it when I was on my porch. Tell me what happened.”

  “I don’t want to discuss it.” She stiffened and dropped her gaze to her lap.

  “There’s a whole lot you don’t want to discuss, but we’re going to…soon.”

  “No. I-I need you to leave and—”

  “Dagnabbit, Jasper. I told you it was Bigfoot!” Emmett stomped his foot. “You ain’t taking my gun again. I gotta protect this town from that big, hairy ape.”

  “That’s my job. That’s what the people of Haven pay me for. I am confiscating your gun.” Jasper pulled off his hat and ran a hand through his dark salt-and-pepper hair. “You need to call me if you see Bigfoot and I’ll shoot him for you.”

  “He ain’t gonna wait around for you to decide to show up. He’s a slippery cuss,” Emmett argued. “He was bent over, yonder…peeking in the window. I seen him with my own two eyes.”

  “Are you sure it was Bigfoot and not some peeping Tom?” Sawyer asked.

  “Well…” Emmett pondered the question. “I’m not rightly sure.”

  Brea’s pulse leapt. “Someone was looking in the window?”

  “It would explain why Ozzie came unglued right before the gunshot,” Sawyer grimly stated.

  A look of worry filled his face, sending a veil of fear to coat her flesh.

  “Ain’t you been listenin’ to me? I done told ya that twice now, missy.” Emmett scowled. “You youngsters don’t pay attention these days. Y’all got your noses in your fancy computer tablets, cellular phones, and spend all your time taking selfless.”

  “They’re called selfies,” Jasper corrected.

  “I don’t care what they’re called,” Emmett huffed. “You all need to put your electronics away and open your eyes. There’s a big ol’ world out there.”

  The old man raised a gnarled finger and pointed at Brea. “You’d best be keeping the lights on and your doors locked up tight, little lady. Someone’s watching you. It might be Bigfoot or some twisted maniac wantin’ to defile you.”

  “Emmett!” Sawyer barked. “Enough.”

  But it was too late. The seeds were sown. Panic sent her stomach roiling. Her mind filled with images of a faceless sicko raping, torturing, and murdering her. Tremors assaulted her body, and all Brea wanted to do was grab Ozzie and run back to Colton and Jade.

  As if summoned by ESP, the couple barreled through the front door.

  “Who got shot?” Jade’s eyes were wide with panic, her face pale with fear. The second she spied Brea, Jade raced to the couch and wrapped her in a tight hug. “Oh, thank god. I was so scared you were dead.”

  “I’m fine,” Brea whispered as they both trembled. “No one’s dead, but that crazy Bigfoot hunter blew the shit out of Barbara’s house.”

  “Emmett…really?” Colton chided with a long, heavy sigh.

  “Pfft. You’re all gonna be thanking me one day when I save your hides from that ugly beast.”

  “Yeah, yeah,” Jasper drawled. “Until then, you need to see that Barbara’s house is set right. Pay for the damage you’ve done, or she’s liable to shoot you when she gets back home.”

  “I ain’t one to shirk my responsibilities. Don’t you go accusing me of such, neither. I ain’t never let no one pay my way. My momma taught me better than that.”

  “Too bad she didn’t teach you common sense,” Jade mumbled so low that only Brea could hear.

  “There ain’t nuthin’ wrong with my hearing, you little tart.” Emmett scowled at her.

  “Did you just call my wife a tart, old man?” Colton bellowed. “I ought to kick—”

  “Jasper! Get him out of here before we all lose our tempers,” Sawyer ordered.

  Colton sent a weak smile to Jade before kneeling alongside Sawyer. “Brea, sweetheart…are you all right?”

  She didn’t respond, simply watched Jasper lead Emmett outside. Once the zany old fart had left, she nodded. “I was until that lunatic started talking about peeping Toms and rapists.”

  “Oh, sugar. Ignore him,” Jade lamented. “Emmett’s nuttier than a squirrel turd.”

  Brea chortled. “It’s a little hard to do when he’s shooting the damn windows out.”

  “I know…I know.” Jade patted the back of Brea’s hand.

  “How did you two hear…?”

  “Lucy from the Binge and Bag called us. Her sister, Lottie… Wait. Let me start at the beginning. Francine, the town dispatcher, got the nine-one-one call from Maynard Pierce. He lives across the street.” Jade pointed toward the jagged window. “Anyway, after Maynard reported the gunshot, he called Jack—”

  “No, sweetheart, his name is Jeff,” Colton corrected.

  “Oh, right. Sorry. Anyway, Maynard called Jeff, who is married to Lottie…who called Swat-Team Evelyn, who already knew all about the shooting, who called Lucy…who called us since she knows you’re staying here and we’re friends. So, we jumped in the truck and came back over to make sure you weren’t dead!” Jade flopped against the back of the couch and took a deep breath.

  Brea shook her head. “Wow. Wireless internet can’t hold a candle to the way news travels in this town.”

  “You have no idea!” Jade rolled her eyes. “At least a photo of you engaged in a torrid lip-lock on Main Street hasn’t graced the front page of the newspaper.”

  “Not yet,” Sawyer mumbled.

  Brea turned a guarded gaze on him.

  While the fiasco tonight would surely make headlines, thankfully she and Sawyer wouldn’t. Brea wasn’t letting the man near her pants, tits, or pussy again.

  Her lusting days were over.

  Finished.

  Through.

  Even if she had to bite the bullet and order a case of granny panties, then find a convent that would take an overused virgin…she was really, truly done with men!

  Sawyer

  * * *

  Sawyer wanted to throat punch Emmett for turning what had been the start of a phenomenal evening into a fucking three-ring circus. Brea wasn’t only beating herself up for negating her ridiculous man ban but also freaked out over Jasper showing up. There would be no picking up where he and Brea left off. He’d be lucky if he got the chance to kiss her again.

  Son of a bitch!

  “You got any plywood we can use to board up that window?” Colton asked, pulling him from the depressing thoughts crowding his brain.

  “Yeah. In the garage.”

  Colton kissed Jade softly. “We’ll be back in a few to take care of this mess. Why don’t you and Brea wait in the kitchen…fix yourselves some tea…or toss back a few shots.”

  “No! Brea doesn’t get booze.” Jade blanched.

  Colton cringed. “Right. Sorry, sugar.”

  “I never did find out…why you don’t drink? Are you allergic to—”

  “It makes her—”

  “Shut it, Jade,” Brea snapped.

  “Yeah. Sorry.” Her bestie cringed.

  “We’ll clean up the glass while you guys get the wood.”

  “No. You relax. You’ve been through enough for one night.” Sawyer patted her knee before standing.

  “Don’t tell me what to do,” she bit out.

  “Fair enough.” He nodded, trying not to take her bitter reply personally.

  Brea had been through a lot tonight. And while he didn’t particularly like her prickly attitude, it was far better than t
he fear in her eyes when she’d seen Jasper.

  She opened her mouth to say something more, but Jade stood and pulled Brea to her feet before the two made their way to the kitchen.

  Once outside, they were halfway to his garage when Colton rounded on him, stopping Sawyer in this tracks. “What’s this shit about a peeping Tom?”

  “I don’t know. Emmett first started ranting about Bigfoot looking in the window, but when pressed, he admitted it might have been a man. Someone or something was out there for sure, because Ozzie went apeshit right before Emmett blew out the window.

  “Was he in front of it, barking?”

  “I don’t know.”

  Colton’s eyes narrowed. “What do you mean you don’t know? Where were you and Brea?”

  “Upstairs.”

  “In her bedroom?”

  Colton’s disapproving tone and expression had Sawyer itching to remind him that he wasn’t Brea’s father. Instead, he stormed to his garage, yanked the door open, and flipped on the light. “Yeah.”

  With arched brows, Colton bit out his next question. “Did you two—”

  “Have sex? Not that it’s any of your business, but no. Emmett blew all prospect of that happening away as well as the window.” He watched Colton’s jaw clench and tick. The air between them turned arctic. “Look, if there’s some reason I should back the fuck off, I’m all ears.”

  Colton pursed his lips. “Not my place to tell you her secrets, man.”

  “Fair enough, but you obviously have an issue with my interest in her. Who are you protecting…me or her? And why the fuck was she in jail?”

  Colton’s mouth gaped open. “She told you about that?”

  “No. I overheard the two of you on the deck earlier tonight.”

  “Ah.” Colton nodded.

  “When I asked her about it, she didn’t answer. So now I’m asking you.”

  “If she doesn’t want to tell you, then—”

  “Dammit, Colton. What the hell did she do?”

  “She didn’t do anything,” he spat. “The only thing she’s guilty of is getting mixed up with a douchebag who treated her like shit and tried to throw her under the bus. But he didn’t succeed. She’s free and clear… They never even brought up any charges against her.”