Acres, Natalie - Sex Club [Cowboy Sex 5] (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour) (47 page)

“We’re something,” Kimberly admitted. “But I don’t think done is exactly what we are at this point, and until that day comes, I don’t want to hear any negativity. Got it?”

Kimberly stormed away, and Ansley leaned toward her mother. “Mom, Jason is a total creep. You have no idea what he did while she was—”

“Ansley, I don’t want to hear it,” she said, shaking her head. “Honey, if Kimberly decides she can’t live without Jason, we’ll have to accept him for who he is.”

“I doubt that will happen,” Ansley said, thinking she needed to have a talk with Kimberly and soon. She would explain how Jason behaved the last time he patronized the club. If she didn’t, Jason would eventually tell her and add his own perverse spin to what really happened.

“Let’s talk about you,” her mom said. “I hear you have four men in your life. Is someone glutton for punishment?”

Ansley felt her cheeks heat with embarrassment. This was her mom, for crying out loud! The front door was set ajar with another loud
ding
announcing someone’s entry. Before Ansley turned toward the entrance, she said, “Yes, Mother, that’s exactly what I’m after—a whole lot of punishment and the best of rewards.”

Chapter Thirty

“So when were you released, brother-in-law?” Ansley asked. “I figured you’d be sporting an orange jumpsuit and handcuffs this morning.”

“I see your sense of humor has returned,” Brock said, hugging her and kissing Peyton’s cheek.

“It never left,” Ansley assured him.

“That’s good to know,” he said, not quite buying her attempt to cover up her concern.

“I’m glad you’re both here. I need to talk to you,” he said, directing them to a nearby booth. He rarely asked to sit down for a private conversation. Ansley must’ve known this was a meeting to discuss the past twenty-four hours.

Actually, he was there on Tristan’s behalf.

Brock had asked Tristan to keep in touch so he could keep them apprised of any pending legal matters. In turn, Tristan requested a favor. He wanted Brock to check in on Ansley.

“Don’t act like the cops didn’t book you. I saw you deck an officer of the law. Besides, I couldn’t help but notice the pretty bracelets they wrapped around your wrists before they dragged you off to jail.”

“Can I have Tristan’s number? I want to be sure and tell him to wear your ass out the next time he sees you.”

Ansley gasped.

“That’ll shut you up,” Brock teased.

Peyton’s eyes widened. “Brock? Do you mind? I don’t like to imagine my girls in such a situation.”

Brock winked. “Maybe if you’d spanked your daughters a little more often, the men in their lives wouldn’t be so inclined.”

Peyton shook her head and laughed. “You’re talking about Trixie, and what can I say? She was spoiled as a child, but you and Rory pamper her worse than we ever did. If anyone is scolded in
your
house, I imagine she’s the one with the paddle.”

Brock twitched his nose. He’d let that comment slide. What mothers didn’t know about their daughters wouldn’t hurt them.

Ansley settled against the leather bench-style seat and was silent. She wore an agonized expression.

“Ansley, Tristan and Bailey will be back for you,” Brock reassured her.

“Yeah, maybe,” she replied. “Someday.”

“Am I missing something here?” Peyton asked.

Ansley balled her fist and stuffed her hand under her chin. Turning her cheek she ducked her face, but Brock saw the tears drifting over her cheeks. “I’ve felt like I’m at a loss all day. One minute, I’m fine. The next, I’m pissing off everyone around me. It’s better for everyone if I just sit here and listen.”

“Ah, honey,” Peyton drawled, leaning forward and taking her by the hand. “What’s the matter with you? Did you already have a falling-out with Tristan and Bailey?”

“It’s complicated,” she replied, studying Brock.

He wasn’t about to give away too much information. He’d promised Tristan and Bailey to keep their confidences, and he wasn’t sure how much Ansley knew.

When he’d spoken with them at the police station, they had been in a hurry. He hadn’t thought to ask how much they’d shared with Ansley. He was certain she realized they were involved with some sketchy folks, but outside of limited details, he wasn’t sure what she knew.

“How complicated?” Peyton asked. When Ansley didn’t reply, Peyton bit out, “Enough for them to run because they were afraid they’d be caught on camera after Bailey’s involvement in Jordie Anne’s shooting? Were they afraid the media would have a field day plastering their faces all over the television?”

“What are you talking about?” Ansley asked, her voice raising an octave.

“Ansley, what’s going on with Tristan and Bailey?” Peyton asked.

Brock couldn’t blame her for prying. Ansley wasn’t one to fall in love, but when she fell, she picked four men. The Cartwells would accept Graham and Elliott, but the other two were a different story.

Tristan and Bailey came with a lot of baggage and probably didn’t have much of a past for the Cartwells to dig through if, in fact, they’d already started to prowl. The past they wouldn’t be able to find would be more than enough to sound alarms in Kane Cartwell’s head. If Kane had started asking questions, Peyton knew all about his efforts.

“It’s not as bad as it sounds,” Ansley assured her.

No, this situation is much worse.
In spite of wanting to add his two cents, Brock bit his tongue.

“Ansley, are those boys involved in illegal activity?”

“No, Mom. And they aren’t boys. They’re men.”

“Then do you mind telling me why they left you right after the worst night of your life? Men stand by their women. Boys run and hide.”

“You don’t understand. They needed to take care of something important. That’s all I can tell you.”

“No,
you
don’t understand. That’s not how love works. If a man is committed to a woman, he doesn’t desert her when she needs him most.”

“I’m sure that’s how it looks, but Tristan and Bailey didn’t abandon me.”

“If your sister were in your shoes right now, what would you tell her? Would you want her to give her heart to men who didn’t take the time to nurture and protect her?”

“I knew you wouldn’t understand,” Ansley muttered, clearly agitated.

Brock cleared his throat. “Peyton, I spoke to Tristan and Bailey before they left. Ansley is right. Their situation is tricky, but they’re good guys. I think you’ll like them once you get to know them better. They left town, but I’m sure they’ll be back as soon as they can. They love your daughter.”

Ansley studied him. “Did they tell you that?”

“Without hesitation.”

“They should’ve told you,” Peyton pointed out.

“They did.”

“Then believe them,” Brock told Ansley before turning to Peyton. “If I had a daughter, I’d trust her with Bailey and Tristan. They have a few things they need to take care of out of town then they’ll be back.”

“You do have a daughter,” Peyton reminded him. “And I doubt you’d want her abandoned when she’s most vulnerable.”

“Mom, I’m seeing Graham and Elliott, too. They didn’t go anywhere. They’re still in town.”

Peyton’s face lit up. “And they’re fine men. Where are they, by the way?”

His mother-in-law must’ve forgotten how she’d cursed them when they went to Texas without inviting Ansley. Brock wouldn’t mention that either.

“They’ll be here later. Are you and Dads coming out tonight?”

“I doubt it. Your dads are pretty busy. We were out of town for a few weeks, and everything went to hell.” She shot Brock a quick glance. “When will Trixie and the kids be home?”

“You know Trixie, if she feels like she’s missing the action, she can’t sit still. They’re already on their way.”

“Good. I can’t wait to see my grandchildren.”

Brock ran his hand down the length of his face. He might as well give Peyton and Ansley a heads-up. They should all prepare themselves for what was heading their way. He’d accepted it from the moment he saw Jordie lying in her own pool of blood. “Trixie wants to see Mitch. I’ll probably drive her up to Virginia later this week.”

“Mitch? Why?” Peyton asked.

Ansley jerked. Brock narrowed his gaze. Without a doubt, Ansley understood why. He could tell by the way she shifted suddenly in her chair and wrung her hands like a little old woman might.

“Never mind,” Peyton said quietly, shooting Ansley a sideways glance.

“Will Bailey be charged?” Ansley asked.

“No,” Brock replied.

“Will they call him in for questioning again?”

“Maybe.”

“Will they find him?”

Peyton shivered this time. She stared at Ansley. “What do you mean by that? Is he trying to hide from the local authorities?”

Brock arched a brow.

“No, Mom. He has no reason to run from the police.”

“Good,” Peyton said. “That’s a relief.”

A beer delivery-truck driver entered the building, and Ansley leapt from her seat, acting as if she had been awaiting his arrival. “Okay, I have to run,” Ansley said, dropping a kiss on her mother’s cheek. “Don’t worry about me. Go home and get some rest. You have sags under your eyes.”

“Bags,” Peyton corrected her.

Ansley placed three fingers on each of her cheeks and pulled the skin down. She forced a laugh. Like Trixie, she teased her mother about her age whenever she had a chance. Peyton still didn’t look a day over thirty.

When Ansley left the building with the beer-distributor employee, Brock said, “I talked to Evan this morning. He said you accepted Ansley’s choices. Why do I have a feeling you’re no longer sitting in Tristan and Bailey’s cheering section?”

“Don’t take me for a fool, Brock Sheldon. Kane spoke to Pete after Bailey was interrogated. Pete may be in the hospital, but he still knows what’s going on. Now, either you tell me why Bailey and Tristan left town after the shooting or I’ll march down to the police station right this minute and start asking questions.”

“You do that and you might just cost your daughter her life.”

“How?” she screeched.

Brock swallowed the lump in his throat. How in the hell was he ever going to explain this?

“Let me buy you a drink, Peyton. You’re gonna need one.”

* * * *

“Brock, don’t beat around the bush with me. What’s going on with Tristan and Bailey?” The first crowd was entering the bar by the time Brock returned to the table with a glass of red wine for Peyton and a beer for himself.

Taking a seat next to her, Brock made an inquiry. “How much has Evan told you?”

“Don’t worry about Evan. I’m Ansley’s mother. You tell me what’s going on. I’ve always liked you, but where my girls are concerned, I’ll turn on you like a rattlesnake if you don’t help me when I’m asking you for information that could help one of my daughters.”

Brock couldn’t help but admire his mother-in-law. Peyton was tough and feisty. Age had made her stubborn, but it hadn’t made its mark on her appearance. She looked liked Trixie’s sister, not her mom. She bore a striking resemblance to all three of her daughters, in fact.