Apocalypse Cowboy: Futuristic Romance with Zombies (3 page)

The shotgun blast took him by surprise. He’d thought the house vacant, but he hadn’t survived the apocalypse by being foolish or slow.

Ducking out of instinct, he covered his face, even as splinters flew from the doorjamb above him. When a second blast didn’t follow, he peered around the edge of the door that had changed little since the last time he’d seen it.

He heard a distinctive
click
as someone chambered a shell. The barrel came poking through the kitchen archway, followed by a miracle he hadn’t expected and certainly didn’t deserve.

“That’s the only warning I’m giving you, mister,” said a voice he’d dreamed about and never thought to hear again. “Get out before I blow your fucking head off.” Her vulgar language made him want to laugh. The little kitten he’d left had grown into a tigress.

As he watched the nervous waver of the shotgun, it occurred to him he’d better declare who he was before he found out if she meant her threat. “Hannah, is that you?”

No mistaking her gasp of surprise. Slowly, he stood, showing himself to the woman he’d foolishly left behind. A wide smile spread across his face, a motion so unfamiliar this past year, he felt his muscles strain to stretch, even as his heart stuttered in his chest.

She’s alive!
And she’s more beautiful than ever.

“Brody?” Uncertainty colored familiar features, but at least she lowered the barrel of the gun.

Brody drank her in, from the golden curls forming a halo around the face he’d never forgotten to her upturned nose sprinkled with freckles. Bright, brown eyes regarded him with confusion, and she bit her full, luscious lower lip. Lips that tasted sweeter than any dessert.

His gaze flicked over her figure, still generously proportioned with a bosom he’d loved burying his face in and rounded hips he’d held on to for many wild rides.

A tightness in his groin showed that more than one part of his body remembered the passion they’d shared. He took a step toward her, wondering if he dreamed, aching to touch her but scared she’d disappear, leaving him to wake once again to dreaded loneliness.

“It’s me, kitten,” he said, using the nickname he’d given her because of her penchant for snuggling and making a sound like a purr. He took another step.

“I’m not your kitten anymore,” she retorted, her eyes sparking with anger. The shotgun swung up. “Get out.”

Seemed like someone harbored ill feelings about the way he’d left. He couldn’t blame her.
I fucked up.
But that didn’t mean he couldn’t try and atone.

Raising his hands in surrender, he took another step toward the only woman he’d ever loved. Hope blossomed in his heart. Despite the danger she posed with her shaking finger on the trigger, he didn’t fear her. A part of him knew she’d never truly hurt him. “I’ve missed you,” he said softly.
More than you’ll ever realize.

An unladylike snort escaped her. “Then I guess you shouldn’t have left.”

He wanted to reply, but a commotion from behind her took both their attentions.

A feminine voice squealed, “Hannah, are you okay?”

“I’m okay, Bethie,” said Hannah, turning around to speak to her little sister who had to be about seventeen now if Brody remembered correctly. The gun lowered at Beth’s appearance, and Brody briefly thought of taking the weapon from her.

Thought and discarded. Somehow this new, harder Hannah didn’t seem like the type who’d react happily to him doing that. And the one thing he’d decided in the last few moments was that, from this point on, her happiness and well-being were his new purposes in life. He’d made the biggest mistake of his existence once in letting her go. He wouldn’t make that error again.

Judging by his less than warm reception, it might take some convincing to get her to take him back, which was fine with him. He had all the time in the world to give her.

Damn is it good to be home.

Turning to face her sister, Hannah tried to regain an equilibrium that had torn the emotional rug out from under her when Brody appeared in her kitchen.

And I almost took his head off.
She hadn’t been aiming to kill of course, just scare in case the intruder wasn’t evil. She’d missed, and yet, her body still shook.

What is he doing here? Why is he back after all this time?

The coward had never contacted her once he’d departed. Pride meant she’d never asked his family if they heard from him. The betrayal of his departure ran deep and had left emotional scars that never completely healed. He’d broken her heart. Left her alone to face the end of the world.

Left me.

And I told him to never come back.

The irony of her last words to him didn’t escape her.

Of all the eligible men to show up in this new post-apocalyptic world, it had to be him. The one man she’d sworn she’d never forgive, the one who’d broken her heart. He also was the only man she’d ever met who could make her tummy do flip-flops and wet her panties with a single look. Would anyone notice if she excused herself so she could go change?

How can he still affect me like this? I hate him.

Hated him, yet couldn’t help lusting after his still perfect body.

Beth tried to peer around Hannah’s body, which blocked the entrance to the kitchen. “What happened, Hannah? Did you kill him? Are we safe? Are—”

Hannah held up a hand to cut her off. “Everything’s fine.”
No, it isn’t,
screamed her heart. “It’s just Brody.” She turned around to face him when she said this and enjoyed the look of consternation on his face as she relegated his status unimportant.

But while Hannah might want to ignore what his return meant, Beth had no such qualms. With a squeal, her little sister shoved through the doorway and launched herself at him. “Brody,” Beth cried, jumping on him exuberantly, arms around his neck, legs wrapping around his waist. She hugged him enthusiastically, a hug that he returned.

Hannah stifled an urge to yank her sister away. She most definitely was not jealous. She’d gotten over Brody a long time ago.

So why am I digging my nails into my palm?

“What are you doing here?” Beth asked, her eyes shining bright in the familiar hero worship she’d relegated to him when he’d been a regular visitor in their home. Hannah’s irritation grew, especially when Brody smiled at Beth in obvious pleasure at her warm reaction to his arrival.

“I came back to see if anyone else had survived.”

“You’ve been elsewhere. Is it true? Is everybody dead?” Beth seemed suddenly subdued, giving voice to the question that had plagued the three of them since their section of the world had disappeared.

“Not everyone, but close,” he said, his eyes showing a bleakness and hardness that didn’t used to be there.

With the initial shock wearing off, Hannah took a good look at his face and noted the changes. His hair had grown longer and shaggier—self-cut due to an obvious lack of barbers—and his features appeared leaner, as if he’d lost weight. Even given his age, early twenties, he had lines on his face that gave him a weary, travelled look.

He’s seen things that have changed him
. Gone was the optimistic boy she’d once loved, and in his place, was a man.

An urge came over her to run her fingers down his new masculine face, to kiss away the lines he’d so harshly earned. Creases she knew would increase when he learned what else had happened. A secret she suddenly dreaded sharing.

A commotion and a bellow sounded, pulling her thoughts away from the past.

Brody’s body went tense, and Hannah hastened to reassure him. “It’s just Uncle Fred. I had him and Bethie go down to the cellar as a precaution when we heard the motorcycle.”

“That old coot’s alive?” Brody’s face lit up. “I’ll go give him a hand.”

Brody brushed by Hannah, his memory of their home apparently intact as he headed for the basement. Hannah’s breath sucked in at the brief touch of their bodies. He’d kept in shape and still felt as hard as ever, a noticeable fact that made her flush with heat.

“Oh, isn’t it wonderful? Brody’s back and more handsome than ever.”

Hannah couldn’t help but frown at her younger sister. “He’s not back for long. You watch, he’ll be gone before the day is out. There’s nothing here for him now.”

She didn’t quite believe her own words. She said them because she had to, anything to try and stop the hope that had taken root since she’d heard his voice and the tingles that even now ran through her body at the thought of being able to touch him again. She couldn’t allow herself to fall in love with him—she wouldn’t survive his leaving a second time.

For a moment Beth lost her smile, only to replace it with a sly one. “You’re just saying that because he left you. It’s a new world now, and a man like him is going to be looking for a woman to settle down with. You know you could get him back if you wanted to.”

Hannah looked at her sister in disbelief.
Take him back?
After what he did to me? Has Beth lost her mind?

“Not even if he was the last man on earth,” Hannah replied, although her body and heart protested otherwise.

Brody caught Hannah’s declaration as he wheeled Fred toward the kitchen to join the girls.

“Well, kitten, seeing as how few of us are left, you might want to rethink that stance.” He couldn’t resist goading her, and the flush on her cheeks and sparkle in her eye made it well worth it, even if he knew she was spitting mad. Folks always said love and hate didn’t lie far apart.

“You,” she said, pointing at him. “Outside. Now.”

Off she stalked, that plump ass he’d loved and never forgotten swinging sassily in front of him. If she hadn’t been so pissed, he’d have slapped it.

On second thought…

Her squeal of surprise as his hand smacked her jean-clad butt was totally worth the dark death glare she shot his way.

His reply? A totally unrepentant grin.

“You’re a jerk,” she muttered.

“So punish me,” he challenged. “I’ll even hold still if you want to slap me back.”

“Oh you’d enjoy that,” was her dry retort.

Out the side door and around to the front they went to stand on the porch. A porch they’d sat on more than a few nights, necking under the stars until Uncle Fred threatened to fetch the gun.

The good old days.

Alone, Hannah whirled to face him, arms crossed over her ample chest. She regarded him with a pinched expression, her full lips tight with ire.

A spitting kitten, so deadly but cute. Brody couldn’t help but grin as he leaned casually against the porch railing. It didn’t take a genius to guess she’d give him an earful. And he’d listen. He figured she had a right to vent. He had, after all, left her. But there was a silver lining to her anger. The way he saw it, she wouldn’t be so pissed if she didn’t still care.

She came at him bluntly. “I want you to leave.”

“Why?”

“Because you don’t belong here.”

“Says who?” Brody enjoyed watching her, even though right now she exuded anger, an emotion that made her cheeks bloom with color. He wanted nothing more than to wrap his arms around her and kiss her until her eyes glazed over.

“Says me. I don’t know why you came back, but there’s nothing for you here, so if you don’t mind, please hop on that bike of yours and go.”

“No.”

His reply took her by surprise. “I don’t want you here.”

Brody detected a crack in her façade as she said it, a hitch in her voice that proved to him she still felt something.

He arched a brow at her. “What if I don’t want to go?”

“There’s nothing for you here.”

“I disagree. I think there’s plenty of reasons to stay.”

“Name one.”

“You.”

Her derisive laughter hit low. “Oh, please. If I wasn’t enough to keep you a year and a half ago, why would you think I’d fall for that now? I realize the pickings are slimmer these days, but I refuse to be the last choice.”

Brody’s heart stilled at her words. Did she really think she could ever be his last choice? She’d always been his one and only. “I made a mistake. I know that now. I never should have left.”

It was Hannah’s turn to arch her brows. “Really? And it took you this long to figure that out?”

“I knew it the day I left.”

“I don’t believe you. Now go.” Her lips trembled, and her eyes brimmed with tears.

“No,” he said, taking a step toward her.

She took one back, panic on her face. “You don’t belong here.”

“I do. I was just too young and stupid to realize it at the time.” She crept away from him even as he drew closer, unable to fight the magnetic pull she exuded.

“You’ll just leave again.” She whispered those words, the pain in them stabbing him.

It was his fault she wore this wounded look.
I never meant to hurt you.

“I won’t leave you again,” he promised, his voice tight as he closed the distance between them.

She scuttled from him, stopping only when her rear came up against the far porch rail, but he invaded her space so she had nowhere left to go. He cupped her face and peered into her eyes where he could see confusion warring with desire. He leaned in to kiss her, desperate for a taste. A touch.

Her lashes fluttered, and he felt her soft breath waft over his hovering lips. Lightly, he pressed his mouth against hers, willing them to part for him.

For a moment, she relaxed, and her lips softened under his. Brody reached a hand up and brushed the back of his knuckles across the downy skin of her cheek, which proved to be a mistake, as she stiffened and shoved at him.

While he didn’t move—
I’m happy where I am
—the railing behind her did. With windmilling arms, Hannah fell backward. Brody reached out to grab her, managing to grasp only the thin linen of her top. The sound of cloth tearing almost drowned out her shriek.

With a confused blink, he stared at the ripped blouse in his hand and then down at his plush kitten flailing in the tall grass in her bra. He laughed, even as she cursed him.

“Stupid, overbearing, rotten jerk,” she yelled. But all the yelling and cursing couldn’t hide her flushed cheeks, bright eyes, and the hard nubs of her nipples, which poked through the lace of her bra.

You’re not immune to me, kitten,
and I think I might even enjoy those new claws you’ve grown while I was gone, especially if you dig them into my back.

On that thought—and with a painful erection—he hopped down to help his spitting-mad tigress.