More Than a Cowboy (The Carmody Brothers Book 3)

by Sarah Mayberry

  He braked hard enough to generate a spurt of gravel, then he switched the car off and turned to her.

  “Get over here,” he said, pushing his seat back as far as it would go.

  She didn’t need a second invitation, eagerly clambering over the center console and into his lap. She’d barely got a knee either side of him before his hands were sweeping up her thighs and under her dress to cup her bare backside.

  “Sierra . . . You drive me crazy,” he said, his voice low and needy.

  “Same. I’ve been thinking about you all day. Thinking about your cock. Having you inside me.”

  His fingers clenched her ass cheeks as he pulled her forward, crushing her mouth in a greedy, take-no-prisoners kiss. She met him tongue stroke for tongue stroke, shivering with delight when he slipped one hand between her thighs to where she needed him the most.

  She was so wired, so aroused, it only took a few deft strokes of his clever fingers to send her over the top. She arched into him, shuddering with pleasure, and he swore under his breath. She felt him fumble at his pants, and she lifted helpfully out of the way, wanting his cock desperately now. He was very hard and thick and she took him in hand and slid down over him with a rasping groan.

  “How can anything feel this good?” he asked in between trailing kisses down her neck.

  “It’s a miracle. Or the best trick evolution ever played on us,” Sierra said.

  He pulled the bodice of her dress out of the way and tongued her nipples, bringing them to hard peaks with teasing licks before sucking with urgent intensity. Sierra closed her eyes and gripped his shoulders as she rode him, reveling in how full she felt, concentrating on the delicious friction of his cock against her swollen flesh. She could tell he was getting closer, could feel the urgency in him, the way his muscles had turned to granite. His hands tilted her hips and guided her up and down, up and down. He did something on each downward stroke, a swivel of his hips—something extra—that made it even better for her and suddenly she was there again, coming with his name in her mouth, her breath sawing in and out of her lungs in frantic gusts.

  She collapsed against him afterward, floppy and useless, her face pressed into the place where his neck became his shoulder. His hand slid onto the nape of her neck and they simply breathed together for several minutes, their bodies cooling. Finally she lifted her head and smiled at his flushed face and heavy eyes.

  “So, I guess I have a new favorite restaurant,” she said.

  Garret laughed, the sound loose and free and loud, and she couldn’t not kiss him. Then she slithered back to her side of the car and put her seat belt on.

  “Take me home and let’s do that all over again,” she said.

  “Sierra Carmody, you are full of good ideas tonight.”

  He took her hand as he pulled back onto the road and Sierra couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt so purely, simply happy.

  As if he could sense her thoughts, Garret lifted their joined hands and pressed a kiss to the back of her hand.

  “How do you feel about putting those panties back on so I can take them off you again? Slowly. With my teeth.”

  She laughed. “Knew you’d like them.”

  “Like? They’re going to have to invent a new word for how I feel.”

  He gave her a long, steady look and she shifted in her seat. Lucky they were almost home, and that they had all night, because she could not get enough of this man and the way he made her feel.

  *

  Sometime after three in the morning, Garret wrote a quick email to Mandy on his phone, Sierra curled sleepily against his side, explaining he probably wouldn’t land at the office until nine thirty tomorrow morning.

  He had no appointments, and he’d been working around the clock since he started. He deserved a few hours of downtime with the woman he loved.

  Instead of rushing into work tomorrow, he was going to wake up at a civilized hour and cook Sierra pancakes and make her some kick-ass coffee.

  Then he was going to make love to her on the kitchen counter. Or maybe the dining room table. He hadn’t decided yet, but he was confident inspiration would strike.

  He fell asleep with the tantalizing image of Sierra spread across the dining room table in his mind, his arm wrapped tightly around her torso, breathing in the scent of her shampoo.

  He shot awake several hours later, startled out of deep sleep by a sound he couldn’t immediately identify. It took him a couple of seconds to recognize the noise echoing through the house as the sound of the doorbell.

  Rubbing his eyes, he reached for his phone. Eight in the morning. Who the hell was on his front doorstep at that hour?

  “What’s going on?” Sierra murmured, pushing her hair out of her eyes.

  God, he loved how sleepy and messy she looked in the morning.

  He leaned down to kiss her. “Won’t be a second. Someone’s at the door.”

  He pulled on last night’s pants and zipped up on the way out the door. He ran a hand through his hair and yawned as he entered the entrance hall. Man, last night had been crazy in the best possible way.

  Fully expecting to find a lost cab driver or delivery man on the doorstep, he opened the door to find himself facing a phalanx of grim-faced men and women wearing the navy blue of law enforcement. A sandy-haired guy with a goatee and a navy cap featuring a police shield stepped forward.

  “Garret Tate?”

  It took him a moment to get enough air into his lungs to respond. “Yes.”

  “Detective Green, DA’s office. I have a warrant to search these premises for any business papers or business-related files or computers associated with Tate Transport in relation to an ongoing investigation into charges of commercial bribery under section 15A of the Business Integrity Act.”

  Garret’s mind was completely blank. The cold morning air was like a slap against his exposed skin, but his brain seemed stuck in neutral. There were things a person was supposed to do in circumstances like this, right? Should he call his lawyer?

  He stared at the closely typed warrant the man had handed him, then shook his head.

  The movement seemed to help, his brain coming sluggishly back online. He didn’t have the expertise to challenge or block the warrant. The best thing he could do right now was cooperate.

  And, yeah, call his lawyer.

  “I’ll show you where the study is,” he said, stepping back.

  “That would be appreciated. I’m going to need you to hand over your laptop computer and phone also.”

  Garret was acutely aware of his bare chest and feet as the investigators filed into the house, fanning out to inspect the rooms.

  “I’m going to need the phone to call my lawyer,” he said.

  “You’ll have to use a landline,” Detective Green said, his tone calmly implacable.

  Garret was about to say more when he noticed one of the investigators turning into the hallway that led to the bedrooms.

  Where Sierra was still lying naked in his bed.

  “Hey. Wait a minute,” he said, taking off after the guy. “You need you to back up a minute. My girlfriend’s in there.”

  The investigator paused, throwing a look over his shoulder toward Detective Green, clearly checking to see if he should heed Garret’s request or not.

  “You guys aren’t barging in there before she’s had a chance to dress,” Garret said, ready to go to the mat on the issue. No way was he standing by while a bunch of cops barged in on Sierra.

  Detective Green called into the kitchen. “Whitehead. You want to come help us out for a minute?”

  Seconds later a young blond-haired policewoman joined them, eyebrows raised in query.

  “I’m going to need you to chaperone Mr. Tate’s girlfriend while she dresses,” Detective Green said.

  “Not a problem,” the woman said before turning to Garret, her expression expectant.

  Garret brushed past the first investigator and strode toward his bedroom, aware of the woman followi
ng hard on his heels. He could hear his phone ringing as he entered the room, and was relieved to find Sierra sitting on the bed wearing last night’s dress with one of his business shirts buttoned up over the top, her eyes huge with worry.

  “Are you okay? What’s happening? I heard all the voices . . .”

  “It’s the DA with a search warrant,” he said, and her eyes widened briefly for a moment before shooting across to the silent woman watching them from the doorway.

  His phone stopped ringing just as he grabbed it from the bedside table.

  “I’m going to need to write down my lawyer’s number from the contact list,” he told the investigator.

  His phone rang again before she could respond. Caller ID told him it was Mandy, and he took the call, whether he was allowed to or not. They could argue the finer points of their search warrant with him afterward.

  “Garret, thank god. The place is swarming with DA investigators. They have a warrant, they want access to all the servers, all our files . . .” Mandy’s voice was high with panic and urgency.

  “They just arrived here at the house. They’re about to take my phone, so I’m going to need you to call Alec Stone and fill him in on what’s happening. He’s a lawyer. His card is in the top left drawer of my desk.” He’d only met with the man yesterday. Garret hoped he was as good as Mae claimed he was. “Then I’m going to call you back from the landline in about five minutes, okay?” He was doing his utmost to sound calm even though his heart was going a mile a minute.

  “All right. I’ll call Mr. Stone now.”

  He could hear Mandy pulling herself together, making an effort to match his calm.

  “Thank you. I’ll be there as soon as I can be,” he assured her.

  “Okay. Good.”

  Garret ended the call. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see the policewoman stepping forward, her hand extended.

  “I’m going to need you to hand your phone over now, sir,” she said.

  Garret ignored her, toggling to the recent calls menu. The odds were good the call he’d missed as he entered was Mandy and that she’d hit redial immediately when he hadn’t answered, but it was better to be safe than sorry.

  He stared when he saw the missed call had been from his mother.

  It hit him then that the DA had probably raided his parents’ home in Marietta this morning, too, as well as the lake house and Tate Transport headquarters.

  Of course they had—they couldn’t risk missing vital evidence, and the only way to ensure that was simultaneous raids.

  Jesus, his mother must be beside herself.

  “Sir. You need to hand over your phone,” the policewoman demanded.

  Garret passed over the phone wordlessly.

  “Here, Garret,” Sierra said.

  He turned and saw she was fumbling in her purse. She pulled out her own phone and handed it to him.

  “Thanks.”

  He dialed and his mother picked up on the second ring.

  “Hello?” Her voice sound thin and shaky. Shocked.

  “Mom, it’s me. I’m calling from Sierra’s phone because the police have taken mine.”

  “Oh, god, Garret. I didn’t know what to do. I’m still in my bathrobe. They just pushed their way in . . .”

  “I know, Mom. They’ve got a warrant. There’s nothing you could have done to stop them. I assume they’re in Dad’s study?”

  “Yes. I told them he never keeps any work things here. It was all on his laptop, and you’ve been using that.”

  “I know. Just stay calm. They’ll be gone soon. I’ll be talking to the lawyer any minute now, but I need to get into the office. If you need anything, call this number, okay? Or Mandy at the office.”

  “All right. I will.” He heard his mother take a shaky breath. “Garret . . . I’m so sorry. If I had any idea this was going to happen, I wouldn’t have landed you in any of this.”

  He pressed his lips together. She’d had some idea. Enough of an idea to urge him to step in and take over when Ron was the logical choice of interim CEO in the short term.

  But now was not the time to get into any of that.

  “I’ll call you later, Mom.”

  He ended the call, very conscious of the silent presence of the policewoman. No doubt she was noting everything he said and did. He had nothing to hide, but that didn’t stop him from feeling guilty. Hunted.

  “You should get dressed,” Sierra said.

  It was the logical next step and he shot her a grateful glance.

  “You too. Head back to your room and we can meet in the kitchen,” he said, taking both her hands in his. They were cold, but she squeezed his hands firmly.

  “I won’t be a second.” She squeezed his hands one last time before letting go and moving toward the door.

  “Excuse me, ma’am.” The blonde moved to block her path. “I’m going to need to escort you to your room and check to ensure you don’t have access to any computers or other devices covered by the warrant.”

  “Sierra is my pilot,” Garret bit out. “She’s got nothing to do with any of this.”

  The woman’s face remained stolidly determined, and Sierra caught his eye and gave a minute shake of her head.

  “It’s okay. I’ll be back soon.”

  She exited, the blonde following her, and he’d barely been alone a second before another investigator stepped through the doorway to take her place.

  Of course. He needed to be supervised, too, in case he decided to start trying to destroy all the evidence hidden in his sock drawer.

  “Okay with you if I get dressed?” he asked, gesturing toward the walk-in closet.

  The investigator moved forward, giving the closet a quick scan before nodding his agreement. “Go right ahead, Mr. Tate.” The words were polite, but there was a hard, contemptuous glint in the other man’s eyes.

  Clearly he thought Garret was the kind of rich corrupt asshole who went around bribing people to get what he wanted and that this morning’s raid was the very least of his just deserts.

  Get used to that.

  Because this was just the tip of the iceberg. There were going to be a lot of people casting a lot of judgments before this was over.

  He dressed as calmly as he could, trying to ignore how much his heart was racing, the tightness across his shoulders. When he stepped back into the bedroom he was in full corporate armor, which felt a hell of a lot better than being commando in last night’s wrinkled pants.

  He headed for the kitchen to find the landline. Sierra joined him just as he picked up the receiver, dressed in her usual navy polo and khakis, her hair pulled into a hasty ponytail.

  “What can I do?” she asked.

  “I don’t know yet. Let me call Mandy. Then I’m probably going to need to head into the office and do what I can in there.” He shot a look toward the huddle of investigators conferring with each other in the doorway to the dining room. He had no idea how long they’d be here at the house, and he hated the idea of leaving them to search without being present, but he couldn’t be in two places at once.

  “I can stay here, keep an eye on all of this,” Sierra said, and he slipped his arm around her shoulders and pressed a kiss to her temple.

  “Thank you. I’m so fucking sorry you’re in the middle of all this.” He meant it from the bottom of his soul. Even though having her here helped ground him, he hated that she’d been exposed to all this ugliness.

  “You have nothing to apologize for, Garret. Okay?” she said.

  Her green eyes were steady and clear as they held his own, and after a second he nodded.

  “Sorry, I really need to make this call.”

  “You do that. I’m going to make us some toast, even though neither of us probably feels very hungry right now, because this might be the only chance you’re going to have to eat all day.”

  She crossed to the freezer to extract a loaf of bread, and he watched her for a moment, seized with a fierce, hot gratitude that he knew h
er, that she was part of his life. Then he dialed the office and waited until Mandy picked up.

  “Tell me where we’re at,” he said.

  He listened as she explained the investigators were concentrating on his and Ron’s offices, as well as the IT department. A whole team of investigators were down there, she said, helping themselves to the company’s servers.

  “What about Alec?” he said.

  “I couldn’t get a hold of him. His secretary said he had a breakfast meeting, and his calls are going through to voice mail. She’s going to get him to call back the second she hears from him.”

  Garret sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. “Okay. I’m going to be leaving here in ten minutes or so. Call this number if anything comes up before then.”

  “Sure, like the building collapsing. Something small like that,” Mandy said, her tone bone dry.

  It took Garret a moment to realize she was joking and he huffed out a surprised laugh. “Yeah, like that.”

  “Drive carefully.”

  He set down the receiver just as Sierra handed him a plateful of toast.

  “Eat,” she encouraged, ushering him onto one of the stools at the island counter.

  Garret dutifully took a mouthful of peanut butter toast, chewing mechanically. His thoughts were ricocheting in a million different directions at once. He needed to talk to Mae. He needed to talk to David. He was about to take another bite of toast when another thought occurred to him.

  “What?” Sierra asked.

  “Just wondering if this is happening at Ron’s place too.”

  “I hope so. Seems only fair.”

  “Yeah.” He finished his first piece of toast and moved on to the second, thinking about how his phone must be blowing up with missed calls and texts.

  “I’ll call you when they’re done here. I’m assuming we’re going to be staying the night here again?” Sierra asked.

  He finished chewing the last bite of his toast before responding. “We are. Sorry if that screws up your plans.”