Boots and the Bachelor (3 page)

She cupped his cheek in her palm. “I'm fine. I think the baby likes all this noise. She's been kicking ever since the bidding started.”

“
He
will never be one of the cowboys strutting across that stage.” Jackson kissed the tip of her nose and caressed her hips.

Audrey ran her fingers through his hair and cupped the back of his neck. “Oh, come on, you've done your share of stripping for the cause.”

“I didn't do it on purpose,” Jackson protested. “I was
stripped
.”

“You say potato. I say tomato.” She grabbed his hand and pulled him to his feet, her eyes gleaming wickedly. “Could you help me out in the storeroom? I'm sure there's a box I just can't lift.” With a wink to Libby behind the bar, she dragged Jackson away. Although dragged wasn't exactly how he went.

The man looked more than willing to go.

“That's what we need,” Colin commented.

“What's that?” Angus asked.

“A relationship like Audrey and Jackson have.”

“Those are so few and far between.” Angus slid off the stool. “Ready to go?”

Colin's brows wrinkled. “Come on, Angus. Stay. I'm getting a kick out of watching this whole process.” He glanced around the room. “I can't wait to see the next schmuck they conned into this.”

“Might be worth it if they were auctioning off a cook. With Mom on strike, we're going to suffer.”

“Shh. Charli's about to announce the next cowboy.” Colin leaned forward, a grin spreading across his face. “Gotta see who will be the next sucker.”

“Ladies, this next hunkilicious man is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity for some lucky woman. He's tall at six feet two inches.”

“Ahhh,” the crowd sighed as one.

“He's got black hair and amazing gray eyes.” Charli dragged it out, spurring their anticipation.

Angus shook his head. Somewhere behind the stage or in the crowd, a cowboy was probably shaking in his boots, dreading the moment his name was announced and he was paraded around the stage like a pony.

“Descended from strong Scottish warlords, he's a true-blue, honest-to-goodness, rough-around-the-edges rancher with big, calloused hands.” Charli paused and winked at the women. “You know what that means.”

The women screamed and clapped, beer sloshed and laughter followed. Every numbered paddle in the room fluttered.

Colin elbowed Angus in the ribs. “I could swear they're describing you.”

Angus leaned forward, his heart stuttering against his ribs. He drew in a breath and held it.

“Ladies, our next offering will be for not one, not two, not three dates with this hunka hunka burnin' love. The lucky winner gets
four
dates with a man some would call a horse whisperer, a real-life cowboy, boots and all.” Charli stared across the room, straight into his eyes. “One of Texas's most eligible bachelors, Angus McFarlan!”

Colin shouted, “Hot damn!” Then he laughed so hard he doubled over, a hand pressed to his side, and fell off his stool.

How could this be? “I didn't sign up for this,” Angus said, but wasn't heard over the shouts and catcalls from the hundreds of horny women in the crowd.

Still sputtering, Colin pointed a finger at him. “You should see your face. I can't believe she did this.”

“Who?” Angus would like to get his hands around the throat of whoever had played this rotten trick on him.

“Who do you think? Mom!” Colin slapped Angus on the back. “You're in it now. These women won't let you back out.”

“Come on up to the stage, Angus.” Charli crooked her finger and grinned. “The ladies want to see what they're getting for their money.”

Angus turned to run, but was blocked by Greta Sue, the bar's bouncer.

“Come on, cowboy, we'll get you there in one piece.” Greta Sue grabbed his hand in her manlike grip and charged forward like a linebacker breaking through the defensive line of an opposing football team.

Angus tried to free his hand, but Greta Sue held tight. Short of hurting her, he had to go along.

Women touched, pinched and kissed his cheeks as he passed through the crowd. One of them caught hold of his shirt and wouldn't let go. With Greta Sue pulling him one direction and his shirt going the other, the buttons gave, popping one at a time until the last one ripped free of the fabric. The shirt came off as he was pushed and shoved from behind, with Greta Sue leading the charge in the front.

The only good thing about making it to the stage was that Greta Sue released his hand and the women couldn't pinch his ass. Angus stood, glaring at the rabid females, rubbing his butt and wishing he were anywhere but there. The exit seemed so far away. He spun, hoping to duck out the back of the stage, but Greta Sue stood behind him, her arms crossed, feet spread.

He could knock her down and make a run for it, but his mama had taught him better than to hit a woman, no matter how manly she might be. Getting through the crowd to the exit was not even the slimmest possibility.

Charli stood to the side, with that damned silly grin on her face. “What will you give for four dates with this mass of purely masculine muscle?”

Angus closed his eyes and prayed no one would bid. That he'd be allowed to walk free of this huge embarrassment. When he got home, he'd have a long talk with his mother about volunteering him for charity events he had no desire to be a part of.

“Five hundred dollars!” a woman shouted, waving her paddle from the middle of the room.

Angus's hopes for a humiliating but commitment-free escape melted away as the first paddle rose high in the air.

“Do I hear seven-fifty?” Charli prompted.

“Yup!” Another paddle shot into the air.

“One thousand. Do I hear one thousand dollars?” Charli barely got the words out before another paddle rose.

“Me!” the woman cried out.

Angus stared out into the mass of eager female faces. “Ms. Fenton?” Was that the gray-haired librarian he used to visit once a month as a kid?

“That's right, sweetie, I might be old, but I'm not dead.” She winked at him. “At least not yet. And I'd like a little beefcake to keep me warm for four delicious dates.”

Angus's eyes widened. Holy shit. What was it about a cowboy auction that got the young and old single women to come out of the woodwork and blow their hard-earned cash on a few measly dates?

“Fifteen hundred anyone?” Charli stared around the room.

Angus did too, wondering if anyone would outbid Ms. Fenton and rescue him from four dates with a woman old enough to be his grandmother but with a wicked grin that frankly had Angus quivering in his boots.

The bidding stalled and Angus had to do something to get it going again, or he would be spending the next month taking Old Lady Fenton out to dinner. Not that she wasn't nice and all, but the way she was rubbing her hands together made him as nervous as a cat in a room full of rocking chairs.

Desperation drove him to do something he would never have done in a million years.

Angus tightened his abs and shoved a hand through his thick hair, pausing like the models and weightlifters did to show off the hard-earned six-pack definition across his belly. He hadn't gained those muscles in a weight room. Tossing hay bales and lifting heavy fence posts did that to a man over the years.

God, he felt silly, but the crowd surged forward and eyes widened.

“One thousand going once…” Charli started.

“Fifteen hundred!” The woman who'd shouted was probably in her forties.

Angus nodded. Better. He couldn't expect the younger ladies to have that kind of money. Dating a cougar wouldn't be bad. Hopefully, she wouldn't expect more than the four dates and he'd be done. Free to spend time with his horses.

“Turn around!” another woman shouted.

“Come on, Angus,” Charli said. “Turn around and let the women see the whole package.”

He frowned at her.

“It's for a good cause,” Charli cajoled.

“Come on, Angus,” Colin's deep voice called out over the others. “Show 'em whatcha got.”

Angus made a slow turn and paused with his back to the crowd, feeling incredibly stupid.

“Fifteen hundred going once…” Charlie gave a long pause, “…going twice…”

“Five thousand dollars!”

Angus spun toward the sound of utter insanity, searching the faces for the one woman who'd shouted.

Every face in the crowd turned as well, and they all seemed to be looking at the lady standing beside Mona at the bar. The auburn-haired woman who'd, for a brief moment, reminded Angus of someone who'd stolen his heart so many years ago. His chest tightened, and he squinted against the stage lights, but couldn't quite make out her face.

“Sold!”

Chapter Three

Gwen swayed, her hand held high, her lips tingling with the effects of the alcohol she'd consumed and the reverberation of the words she'd shouted at the top of her lungs.

Holy shit!
What had she just done?

She'd spent five thousand dollars on a man. A man, for Pete's sake!

“Wow, Gwen.” Mona laughed beside her. “When you decide to go all out, you go
all out
. I can't believe you just bought four dates with your old summer fling.”

“I can't either,” Gwen muttered, her heart racing at the thought of four dates with the man who'd never left her mind in the past seven years.

“I didn't even know he was on the lineup. He must have been a late add. Good for you.” She clapped Gwen on the back, nearly knocking her over. “Congratulations!”

Staggering forward a step, Gwen struggled to stay upright, with the room spinning and her stomach roiling.

“Are you okay, sweetie?” Mona leaned into her face. “You're looking a little green around the gills.”

“I'm a little light-headed.”

Fuck, fuck, fuck!

Gwen clapped a hand to her head. What had she done? Buying Angus was pure insanity.

“It's probably all that tequila making you dizzy,” Mona concluded. “When was the last time you drank tequila shots?”

“Seven years ago.” She hadn't had a shot of tequila since she'd been with Angus seven summers ago.
Holy hell. Holy hell.

Gwen touched a hand to her cheek, marveling at how numb it was, kinda like when she went to the dentist for a filling and he shot her full of Novocain. Then she saw the look on Angus's face as he stared across the crowd of women, squinting. From his blank and confused expression, he hadn't recognized her.

“Holy hell,” Gwen moaned. “What have I done?”

“You've just given five thousand dollars to the women's shelter.” Mona's brows furrowed. “You do have five thousand to give, don't you?”

Gwen nodded. With each dip of her head, her vision swam and the murder of crows in her gut churned. “I've got the money, but why did I spend it on him?”

A grin spread across Mona's face. “Something tells me you're not quite over Mr. Angus McFarlan.”

“I am. I really am. It's been seven years.” Gwen threw her arm in the air and nearly fell over.

“There are some guys a girl never gets over.” Mona slipped an arm around her waist and guided her toward the back door. “You need air.”

“Air.” Gwen's chest squeezed so hard she couldn't seem to breathe. “Yes, I need air.”

“You're about to hyperventilate.” Mona pushed through the crowd. “Out of the way. Give her some room.”

As she was led through the crowd, women congratulated and thanked her for the sizeable donation.

“You lucky dog.”

“Four dates. Wow! He's so hot he'd burn me.”

“Wish I were in your shoes, or panties!” Mrs. Fenton said, her lips turning downward in a disappointed frown.

Gwen clutched her purse and staggered alongside Mona. When they made it to the door leading to the back of the building, Greta Sue appeared in front of them.

“Employees only in the rear,” Greta said, her voice deep, her frown so fierce she scared Gwen.

Mona smiled at the big woman. “Oh, Greta Sue, you know me. I'm an employee on occasion. Let us go to the back.”

Greta tipped her head toward Gwen. “She doesn't work here.”

Gwen moaned and clutched her belly. The tequila, her purchase, the look on Angus's face were all working against her.

With a hand propped on her hip, Mona stared Greta Sue down. “Greta Sue, have a little respect for the woman who just contributed five thousand dollars to the women's shelter. Now either step aside, or find Audrey and we'll clear this right up.”

Mona had more
cojones
than Gwen. The bouncer made Gwen shaky on her high heels.

Her frown deepening, Greta Sue shot a glance over her shoulder. “Audrey and Jackson are, er, busy in the storeroom.”

Mona blinked. “Oh. Okay, then, just let us out the back door. Gwen is about to toss her cookies.”

Greta Sue grimaced. “Why didn't you say so in the first place?” She stepped out of the doorway and waved them through. “The door will lock behind you. If you want back in, you'll have to come around the front.”

“Will do.” Mona hurried Gwen to the rear exit.

“Wait. I don't feel so good.” Gwen stopped to lean against the wall and make the world quit spinning. It didn't help.

Mona bit her lip. “Maybe some ginger ale would help settle your stomach.” She grabbed an empty cardboard box as she led Gwen out the back door. Before the door could shut, Mona stuffed the box in the gap.

The fresh night air should have helped, but it only cleared her mind enough to reinforce the crazy thing she'd just done. Gwen was committed to four dates with the man who'd broken her heart seven years ago. The stars in the wide-open Texas sky spun.

“Sit.” Mona settled her onto a rickety, weathered picnic table beneath a scraggly live oak tree. “I'll be right back with some ginger ale. Don't go anywhere.”

“I couldn't if I wanted to.” Gwen laid her head on the weathered wood, praying for the ground to open up and swallow her.

When Mona turned to leave, Gwen called out, “Wait.”

Mona leaned close to her.

Gwen held her purse up without lifting her head. “My checkbook is in there. Get it out, write the check and I'll sign it.”

“We can take care of that later.”

“No. I don't know if I'll have a brain cell later.” She shoved the purse at her friend. “Please. Do it, and deliver it to whoever's collecting.”

“For the love of Mike.” Mona dug out the checkbook and wrote the check. Then she placed the pen in Gwen's hand. “Your turn.”

Gwen lifted her head only enough to see where to put her signature, scribbled her name and let her head fall back to the wood with a thump.

“You didn't even check to see if I put the right amount in.”

“I don't care.” Gwen closed her eyes. “I just want the world to quit spinning.”

Mona swept a hand over her hair. “Oh, sweetie, you're wasted.”

“No shit.”

“I'll be right back.” Mona left.

The music and the roar of the crowd from inside the building were muffled but still thrumming in Gwen's head, making her feel as though the world were rocking beneath her.

A mosquito buzzed around her ear, but Gwen couldn't lift her hand to swat.

Everything whirled. The stars, the sounds, the picnic bench, all around one central thought: she'd just bought herself a cowboy. Not just any cowboy. Angus McFarlan. A giggle rose up her throat and exploded in a bout of hysterical laughter.

Angus dropped down off the stage and tried to get through the crowd to the woman who'd placed the winning bid. But there was no pushing through the women. Their hands clutched at his naked chest, pulled at his arms and even tugged at the belt holding up his jeans.

Across the room, Mona had gripped the woman's arm and was leading her toward the back of the bar.

He had to get to her and buy back that bid. Four dates with a strange woman would be a nightmare. What would they have to talk about? Where would he be forced to take her? Fancy restaurants meant wearing a suit. Suits made him itch. Angus would almost rather go out with feral Old Lady Fenton than with the stiff-suited woman in the high heels.

When he reached the bar, he leaned over the counter. “Libby, where did Mona and that woman go?”

Libby's face broke out in a grin. “The winning bidder? Damn, Angus. I didn't know you had it in you. Five thousand dollars is a lot of money. You better treat her right.”

His heart sank into his belly. Getting out of this mess would be harder than he'd anticipated. Every woman in the saloon would remember this night because of the amount the woman had bid. No one had ever bid that much, as far as Angus knew.

Still, he had to try. Five thousand dollars. He had more than that in savings, but he needed it in case he had to come up with a down payment to buy the ranch from his mother.

The Rafter M couldn't leave the McFarlan family. He'd sell his soul to the devil before he let that happen. Not that the woman who'd bought him was the devil, nor was she the woman who would get his mother off his back.

He had horses to train and cattle to round up. Dating took time and a whole lot more effort than he was willing to put into it. And the woman in the suit had high maintenance written all over her beautiful body, right down to her pointed-toe stilettos.

Greta Sue was on the job, ushering the next poor slob up onto the stage to be auctioned off. With the bouncer out of the way, he ducked into the back of the saloon and threw open the first door he came to.

Stacks of boxes lined walls and shelves, while a barricade of cases of beer created another wall down the center of the little room. Plenty of liquor, but no Mona and no woman in a gray suit.

About to close the door and continue on, Angus heard a muffled giggle and a low groan.

“Mona?” he called out and stepped around the wall of beer cases.

“Oh, darlin', we've got company.” Audrey Anderson was seated on a short stack of boxes full of whiskey, wearing nothing but a bright-red bra, a pair of black, tasseled chaps and red cowboy boots, her legs wrapped around Jackson's bare waist. Her baby bump was as round as a cantaloupe and she was leaning back on her arms to give Jackson a better angle for what he was doing.

Jackson, shirtless and with his jeans down around his knees, glanced over his shoulder, his face tense. “Sorry, this storeroom's taken. And I'm having a helluva time finding a position that works. I'll be glad when the baby comes so we can go back to normal sex.” He moved in and out of his wife, his knees bent, his angle awkward.

Audrey ignored her husband's surly grousing. “You're welcome to stay and watch, if you like. It makes me really hot when someone else is watching Jackson making love to me.”

“If you stay, you have to promise not to laugh.” Jackson sighed and pulled free of Audrey.

“Hey!” Audrey pouted. “I wasn't there yet.”

“Honey, neither was I.” He unlocked her legs from around his waist and lifted her off the boxes, setting her on her feet and kissing the tip of her nose. “I can't get the baby off my mind when we do a full frontal, babe. I'll have to come at you from the rear.” He turned her around and patted her naked ass.

All the while, Angus stood there with his jaw slack and all his blood flowing south to his groin. He hadn't seen anything as incredibly hot as watching Jackson make love to his pregnant wife. “Uh, sorry. I didn't mean to interrupt.” He backed a step, his cock hard. How long had it been since he'd been to the auction in Amarillo? He hadn't been in two months and damned if he wasn't feeling it.

Audrey bent forward, bracing her hands on the boxes in front of her. “I'm glad you stepped in when you did, Angus. I didn't think I could get any wetter, but you proved me wrong.”

Jackson entered her from behind, sliding his damned big cock into her in one long, smooth glide that made Angus's mouth water.

“Yup, babe, you're definitely wetter. Damn, you feel good.” He gripped her hips and pumped in and out of her. “But I'd like to think I'm the one making you wetter.”

Angus frowned. “Won't you hurt the baby going so hard?”

Audrey laughed. “The baby seems to like it when Jackson rocks her to sleep.” Her face tensed. “Yeah, now I'm feeling it. Faster.”

“Going as fast as I can, sweetheart. You're a demanding little cuss.”

“I know, I can be so bad,” she said, her voice low and sexy.

Jackson slapped her ass.

Angus should have left the moment he spotted the couple doing it in the storeroom, but something about the wild abandon and happy coupling kept his boots rooted to the floor. But when Jackson slapped his wife's ass, Angus stepped forward and grabbed Jackson's arm.

“Hey, your wife's pregnant. You shouldn't be hitting her.”

“Oh, Jackson, isn't he sweet? Angus is worried you're going to hurt me. You better not use the whip tonight.” Audrey winked at the men standing over her naked ass. “For the record, Angus, Jackson never hurts me when he spanks me or uses the whip. But I might hurt him if he leaves me hanging here.”

“Sorry, darlin'.” Jackson started moving again, settling into a steady rhythm of pumping in and out of Audrey, his balls making a soft slapping sound against her skin.

“Yeah, now we're getting somewhere,” Audrey moaned.

“The woman knows no shame, and she's been hornier than ever throughout this pregnancy,” Jackson owned.

Angus closed his eyes to the lusty display in front of him. “I only came in here looking for Mona and the woman she was with tonight. They were headed back this way.”

“Haven't seen them.” Audrey's back arched and she sucked in a shaky breath. “I'm on the verge of coming. Angus, if you're going to stay, you have to play.”

“Huh?” Angus stared at the woman. Had her pregnancy made her lose her mind? “Play?”

She plumped her full breasts. “Jackson's got that end occupied but you could make yourself useful and touch these.”

Jackson growled. “Touch them, and I'm afraid I'll have to kill you.”

“Oh, honey, you let your brothers touch me.”

“We're married now. I don't mind someone else watching, but the girls are mine.”

Audrey pouted. “Spoilsport.”

His cheeks heating, Angus backed toward the door. “That's okay. I really need to find Mona.”

“Try out back of the saloon,” Audrey said, her attention shifting back to Jackson. “And you try what you just did again. Mmm…yeah…that.”