Espino, Stacey - Her Cowboy Triple Team [Ride 'em Hard 4] (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour) (6 page)

“I’ll get you home, darlin’. It’s an unholy hour to be out and about.” Grant guided her with a hand to the back. He felt a possessive tug when they passed some of the guys hanging out with Matthew. He wanted them to know Kayla was his, that she was marked, taken, his woman. They seemed to accept his subtle gestures, returning to their conversations as he steered her to his truck.

The drive was eerily quiet, just the hum of the engine and symphony of insects coming from the slightly open driver’s side window. He wished he could read her mind, know what she was thinking. Did she regret what happened? Was she disappointed in his lovemaking?

“So…will you be working at the office the rest of the week?”

“No. The Wilders come back tomorrow evening. Then I’m off until next week.”

More silence.

Their conversation had come so easily earlier, naturally. Had he ruined everything by adding sex to the mix so soon? He knew Kayla wasn’t the sleeping-around type. She was a good girl, likely never exposed to a fast lifestyle thanks to her brother Clay. It was no different than how Grant and his brothers sheltered Angel from men and the world.

He pulled up in front of the hardware store and cut the engine. Deafening silence settled in immediately, putting him at unease. He had to be the man now, to show her he wanted her for more than a night. Grant twisted to the side, studying the shadow of her profile. The town was asleep, no evidence that life existed besides the lone flickering streetlamp on the corner.

“Kayla, I don’t regret tonight. It was one of the best nights I’ve had in a long time.”

“Good to know.” She unclasped her seat belt. “I better head in.”

As she started to shuffle closer to the door, he stopped her with a hand to her shoulder. “Kayla, talk to me. Are you angry?”

“You did nothing wrong, Grant. Nothing I didn’t allow to happen. Don’t worry about it.” She briefly laid her hand over his until he moved his aside, and then she was gone.

He watched her until she disappeared into the side door of the store into her apartment, wishing he could follow. Grant realized what he’d really known all along. He wanted Ms. Roberts for much more than sex. His cock wasn’t even hard, but he still desired her—her mind, her art, and her dreams. He wanted to hear her talk, watch her expressions, and bask in her company. But he may have just blown his chance.

Chapter Five

“Why you come cryin’ to me every time you mess up?” asked Matthew. They were busy putting out fresh hay, side by side. The cattle were clamoring for space behind the split-rail fence, making it necessary to shout to be heard.

“I wasn’t thinking straight.”

“You were thinking with your dick, which is exactly what got you into trouble.”

Grant stopped, leaning on his pitchfork. “I’m serious, Matthew. What the fuck should I do to make things right?”

“I’m the last person you should be asking. I haven’t exactly fared well in the love department. The fact you still want her proves she means something to you. All I know is once you add sex, the dynamics of a relationship change. Big time.”

“We didn’t even have a relationship. It wasn’t even a real date. Shit, I screwed up.” He wanted to punch something, desperate for an outlet to vent his frustration.

Matthew mopped his brow with the rag hooked in his belt. The sky was clear, giving no reprieve from the direct sun. This time of year the early mornings were chilly, the nights bitter, but the days still changed into scorchers by noon. “Just talk to her. Let her know she wasn’t a fling. The longer you stay away, the more certain she’ll think you were playing her.”

Of course Matthew was right. It had been three days since the corn roast. Grant had avoided the office, not even venturing into town for supplies in fear of running into Kayla. He was going through withdrawal, so used to popping in to see her pretty face and starting some small talk. She’d become the reason he got up in the morning. It was no longer just about getting the fence mended, fields plowed, or cattle moved to new pasture. He had a more meaningful purpose, a goal. Now he’d shot himself in the foot by disrespecting her and made things worse by not calling on her to apologize. Was it possible she wanted nothing to do with him? Grant wasn’t an insecure man, but Kayla had him running in circles, scared of rejection and uncertain of his every action.

“What if she wants nothing to do with me?”

Matthew flashed him a heated glare. “For the love of God, Grant. Man up and do something about it. I’d be better off working with a woman than listening to you bellyache about your broken heart all day.”

Leave it to his brother to ground him back in reality. He decided it would be best to show up at her apartment with some fresh-clipped roses from his momma’s garden after his duties were done. Good or bad, he had to face her.

* * * *

Kayla put the final brushstroke on her picture. She leaned back on her stool to appreciate what she’d created. The fields looked as if she could reach out and run her hand along the wheat…just like all the other paintings. She was getting burnt out, desperate for inspiration and new subjects. Her thoughts continually drifted to the sunsets Grant spoke about behind his barn, but she’d never get her chance to paint them. Not anymore.

Unfortunately Kayla didn’t have to worry about getting over an evening out or a lost kiss. She’d given Grant everything, her body, her heart. She’d actually fallen for his act. Why had she let him in, spoken of her dreams and desires as if she’d known him for years? She was an idiot, that’s why. But she refused to play the victim and wallow in her apartment just because he’d never bothered to call on her in the past three days. She wasn’t sure what the grace period was for cowboys, but she’d gotten the hint loud and clear. He didn’t want to see her again.

She set her brush on the ledge of the easel and went to wash her hands. Since the corn roast, she’d been proactive about her future, looking into getting a job she was experienced to handle. Her rent was cheap, but it wasn’t free. She needed a source of income coming in.

There was no way she could set foot in the feed store again and risk seeing Grant face-to-face. She may have done herself proud by avoiding a full-blown pity party over the cowboy, but she wasn’t strong enough to see him without crumbling. One look would be all it took to bring her vulnerable feelings rushing to the surface. She’d actually believed him, thought his intentions were honorable. The sex had been amazing, something she was forced to relive night after lonely night. But sex alone wasn’t enough. She wanted the whole package and knew from the start that she was wrong for Grant. It was probably the reason she’d handled the rejection so well.

Kayla pulled her long hair into a ponytail and slipped on her running shoes. It was a long walk to the Richmond Ranch. She didn’t want to be late for her interview but wouldn’t bother her brother for a ride. Clay had already done more than enough for her.

She’d been asked by
Austin
if she’d be interested in being interviewed for a bookkeeper’s position on their ranch. It wasn’t much different than what she did at the office, but at least it would feel like she earned her wages herself. Working for her brother made her feel like a charity case.

The dirt roads outside of town were peacefully quiet. Only the sharp crunch of gravel beneath her feet kept her company. She inhaled deeply, savoring the rich and sweet scents nature provided—fresh-plowed hay, evergreen, and black earth. It wasn’t the country she hated, the isolation, or the rural living. It was the loneliness. There were no prospects out here. Everyone knew each other in these small towns. Once word spread that she’d fucked Grant Garner against his barn, she’d be labeled the town tramp. There would be no hope in starting an honest relationship with a man after that. And frankly, she didn’t want another man. She had wanted Grant but blamed her heightened hormones on her attraction. It was better than admitting she was falling in love with the cowboy after only a month of brief visits to the office.

She passed the most breathtaking shallow brook with a miniature waterfall. As she crossed the low, wooden footbridge, she stopped to study the view. It would be the perfect place to come and spend the afternoon painting. She may come back to do just that one day. Nobody would notice her way out here. It could be her own private getaway place, and God knew she needed one. The trickling sound of water was like a lullaby, and she wanted to escape into her painting.

The entrance to the Richmond Ranch was accentuated with a wide, arching entryway made of wrought iron. The family name was spelled out in great iron curls with a black stallion rearing at each end of the word. It was an impressive sight, nothing like the common dirt path leading to the Garner Ranch, or even Clay’s new place. No wonder the Richmonds had money for hired help and a bookkeeper. They must be doing very well if they could spread the wealth around. Most families did everything themselves—finances, vet care, medical, mechanics, and more.

When she finally reached the porch to the plantation-style house, she was beat. Her feet were sore and her back sweaty. She hoped to speak with Austin and not Ben Richmond, or preferably their father. But then again, Ben may have been too drunk to remember the corn roast.

The door swung open after she rang the doorbell twice. It was
Austin
. He looked at her briefly then at the empty parking lot behind her. “How’d you get here?”

“I walked.”

He scowled. “Why would you walk all the way out here? You have our number. You should have called for one of us to pick you up.”

Like that was going to happen. She was there for a job interview, a position where she had to impress to get in the door. Admitting to having no vehicle wouldn’t go over well, especially if she was expected to work way out here on a bidaily basis.

“I didn’t mind the walk. It’s a beautiful day.”

He stood there for the longest time, watching her, appearing to digest what she said. Was it that uncommon for people to enjoy a nice walk in the country? It had done her broken heart a world of good.

Austin
looked very similar to Ben, with dark hair and eyes, tanned skin, and sinfully good looks. It would be distracting working under their watchful eyes if she got the job. She remembered
Austin
’s frequent visits to the distribution center, but unlike Grant, he was serious and guarded. It had piqued her interest in him, but she stifled her desires because he was obviously off the market.

He suddenly seemed to grasp the situation and apologized before waving for her to enter. Even when
Austin
had come to the office, he usually kept unnaturally quiet and reflective. This was the longest she’d spoken with him at one time.

The inside of the home was cozier than she expected. All the wood was stained a dark oak, from the floors to the furnishings to the open rafters above. It was a wide concept layout with large bay windows giving views of fields and rolling hills in every direction.

“Please. Have a seat,” he said, his voice echoing slightly.

Kayla sat on the thick leather sofa, the cushions surprisingly comfortable. It was just nice to sit after walking for over twenty minutes straight.

Austin
paced the area in front of her, his hands clasped behind his back. He wore faded blue jeans and a fitted black tank top. The man’s wide, muscled shoulders were accentuated in the sleeveless shirt, giving her the impression he either worked out or worked hard on his land. Grant had mentioned the Richmonds being lazy and spoiled, but
Austin
and Ben certainly didn’t look soft.

“I’ve been wanting to apologize for my brother…”

He had barely begun to speak when Ben walked in the room from the kitchen. “I can apologize for myself, Austin.” So he did remember the corn roast. Her cheeks began to heat. Did he remember every detail?

“By all means. The lady deserves to hear something,”
Austin
snapped, crossing his arms over his chest after taking a step back.

Kayla wasn’t used to watching brothers clash. She’d had some battles with Clay over the years, but he usually bent over backward to appease her. These two men were both strong, dominant, and the tension in the room was thick. For some reason the clash made her nipples tighten. Or was that just because her skin was clammy from sweating on her walk to the ranch?

Ben sat beside her on the sofa. His eyes were clear and alert now, not erotic and teasing as they had been earlier in the week. “I promise you, I’m not a drinking man. We had some bad news about our crops recently and I got carried away. Lord knows I never meant to involve you, certainly not insult you in any way.” He sounded honestly ashamed, and she felt guilty that she’d actually believed he was close to his sober persona when drunk. The two personalities were like night and day. Did his attraction to her also fade with his sobriety?

“No harm was done,” she said.

“In my eyes, there was. But I’ll make it up to you, I promise.”

Now the gleam in his eyes took on a new edge, making her fantasize about the possibilities. She was alone in a house with two delicious cowboys, and she felt the power in the numbers. Even though she knew several people in ménage relationships, she’d never really personalized the idea. Right now, all she could envision was taking both
Richmond
brothers at once. Four hands touching, two mouths tasting, and two hard cocks begging for entrance. Her heart rate picked up, and she hoped they couldn’t sense her sudden shift in mood. She was usually a pro at hiding her desires and had done so for over a month with Grant. Now keeping up her stoic front was becoming more of a challenge.