Hunter Moon (Lupine Moon Series) (21 page)

He simply said “All’s fair,” and leveled that oceanic gaze of his on me.
Dimples
and
crazy gorgeous blue eyes
… I had to lay my head down before I passed out.

“You know,” I said teasingly, eyes locked on the quilt across my bed, “the second half of that saying is ‘in love and war.’” I heard him chuckle before he crawled over and knelt over me. “Why are you so sure you’re going to fight a war over me?” I smiled up at him. A few wavy, brown locks of his hair fell forward around his cheeks. His eyes caressed my face as he stared down at me.

I saw laughter in their blue depths, along with something that made my eyes go wide.
He loves you,
a little voice whispered in my head. His lips curled up into a small smile, almost like he knew what I had thought. My jaw dropped as realization dawned. He laughed, that rumbly chuckle deep in his chest, and I felt my panties get moist.

“There couldn’t be a better reason to fight for than you, Shells. That’s why I’m sure. And I’ll be damned if I let another man swoop in and steal you away now that I’ve found you.”

 The way he said it sounded like he’d searched for me for decades. I didn’t know if I was glad he hadn’t said he loved me. I was pretty sure I would have run like a spooked horse, but I got the feeling he was the type of man that loved a good chase.

After Cash begged off claiming he had to go to work, I got myself dressed and checked fence and my cattle for several hours. I still didn’t have any proof he actually
did
anything. I didn’t see any signs of my murderer/stalker. My thighs were still a little sore from riding double the previous day, and my usually comfy saddle felt like concrete so it wasn’t too long before I called it quits and steered my quarter horse home.

Exhausted, and with every muscle screaming in protest, I walked to my trailer from the barn having unsaddled Roanie and rubbed him down. My mind was absorbed in the magical fantasy of ibuprofen and a hot bath so I didn’t notice the black BMW 7 series sitting in my driveway until I nearly bumped into it. I frowned and examined the seventy thousand dollar vehicle and tried to puzzle out to who it could belong. I didn’t have to wait long.

“Oh there you are!” exclaimed a falsely cheerful voice behind me.

I spun around and saw my cousins Harry and Trisha standing on my front porch. They walked down
my
stairs like they owned the joint and my naturally quick temper burst into life. Why’d they come?
Probably trying to gauge how much money they could get for the ranch if the win.

I leaned against the magnificent specimen of German engineering knowing full well that it would drive Harry crazy.
I hope the rivets scratch its pretty paint job,
I thought viciously.

“You’re trespassing on private property and its well within my rights to call the sheriff.” I said barely containing the growl in my voice. Harry glanced at Trisha and they exchanged a smug satisfied look.

“Now, is that any way to treat family? Honestly, Shelby, I thought Grant raised you better than that.”

I was positive, down to my toenails, that Harry would sue me into oblivion, if not throw my ass in jail. Otherwise, I would have broken his nose right then.

“As of the day you decided to take me to court and dared to suggest that I might have coerced Grandpa into leaving me the ranch, you and Trisha are no longer my family,” I snapped, letting loose all the venom I felt burning through my veins.
Time to prune the family tree.

I shimmied my butt against the bimmer in hopes the brass dug into Harry’s clear coat and glared at them. “Frankly I’m surprised you two had the balls to drive up here. Oh wait, Trisha. You’ve got your husband’s in a jar on your desk, isn’t that right?”

The superior smile on her face disappeared and she looked like she was sucking on a lemon. I glanced at Harry and caught his lips twitching. I wiggled my rear again against the car I stood and walked past them toward my trailer, or tried to, until Harry grabbed my upper arm and pulled me to a stop.

“Get your f—” I started to hiss.

Harry interrupted me. “We were just making sure you are capable of taking care of this big ranch all by yourself. It’d be terrible if the stress started to get to you. Plus, we heard someone was murdered?” He tilted his head in mock commiseration and my fingers itched to make acquaintance with his shnozz.
It would probably make it more attractive,
my shoulder angel rationalized. I tried to free my arm, but his fingers tightened almost to the point of pain. I was far too angry to care.

“You know, if you do find yourself in a tough situation I’d be happy to help, Shells.” Hissing at his use of my nickname, I nearly spat in his face.

“Yeah, at what cost, my soul?” I snarled. He looked entirely too pleased with himself so I decided to jerk a knot in his tail. “I’d rather put the land into the Williamson Act.” Shock flared in Harry’s eyes before they narrowed with hatred. The Williamson Act in California meant that land could be designated for agriculture and was taxed at a lower rate. It also meant if I did put it in the Act and Harry got his hands on it, he’d have to wait at least ten years before he could take it out.

“It takes ten years for that to go through,” he said, but I could see the worry floating behind his eyes. I bared my teeth in a way that was light years away from friendly.

“Grandpa started the paperwork years ago and it should be going through this winter.”

I tore my arm loose from his grip, knowing he’d probably left a bruise, and stomped up the steps to the door. I spun and glared at both of them for a moment before speaking. I couldn’t believe they had the nerve to come to my land and threaten me. Breathing deeply, I gathered my thoughts. I didn’t want to say anything that could be used against me in a court of law someday.

“If you both aren’t in your eurotrash-mobile and off my property in sixty seconds I’m calling the cops.” I crossed my arms in front of my chest and stood, staring at them. Trisha glanced at Harry, but he didn’t move and it seemed like she took her cues from him. I glanced down at my watch. “Forty-five seconds.”

Apparently Harry didn’t think I was serious. My smile was sharper than Grandpa’s Ka-bar knife in my back pocket as I walked into the trailer and grabbed the phone and my Benelli. I leaned the shotgun casually over my shoulder and glanced back at my watch.

“Fifteen seconds.” Finally, when I started dialing and chambered a shell, Harry glanced at Trisha and they tried to look casual as they jogged to the Bimmer and tore out of the driveway. I almost wished they hadn’t left. It would have been infinitely satisfying to see buckshot holes in the hood of that pretty car. It did help that I was fairly certain Harry would have to spend a couple hundred dollars to get the scratches out of the fender.

I popped the cap off a beer and sat on the couch for a half hour staring at the ceiling. My body was still tired and aching, and it was begging me to take it to bed. My mind, however, had other ideas. The alcohol helped soothe the white hot rage I felt, but I’d have to bring out the big guns if I was going to make a big enough dent in my temper so I could sleep that night.

Certain bits of my anatomy were telling me that a certain tall, dark and handsome man I’d grown so fond of would also do wonders to soothe my temper, even though sleeping was nowhere on its list of things to do tonight.
We could think of something…
As appealing as that suggestion was, I felt like I had been aggressive enough and it was Cash’s turn to do some pursuing.

Still, I needed something to smooth down my hackles, so I changed out of my dirty jeans into a fresh pair and grabbed the keys to my Blazer. Jesse would help calm me down.
Her and my good friend Mr. Daniels…

It was only four thirty so the bar wasn’t open yet. I growled as I strode into the store and settled for the Coke Jesse plunked down in front of me as she took the seat across the table. I glared at it, feeling sullen, before finally taking a sip.
Yup, just Coke. Not a drop of Jack or Cap’n in sight.

“What crawled up your butt and died?” Jesse’s soft chocolate eyes were twinkling with amusement. She took a sip from her drink, trying and failing to keep her lips from twitching.

“I don’t see what’s so funny about my cousins stopping by and threatening me.” I mumbled into the soda.

I heard her choke on hers, and surprisingly, it didn’t make me feel better,
much
. Her eyes were wide and moist from choking and implored me to continue. “Harry seems to think I won’t win the suit.”

“Why would he think that?” I shrugged, ignoring the little niggling worry in the back of my mind.

We both sat in grave silence for a few minutes until she raised her head and squeaked. I gave her a dirty look until I noticed she wasn’t looking at me but at something behind me. Thinking it was Cash again, I spun around in my chair but my smile fell flat when I took in the GQ model standing in front of me. He was dressed in an impeccably tailored black suit, and although I’m not an expert on men’s fashion, it looked to be of the Armani persuasion. And probably cost more than I had to live on for six months. His shirt was so pristine it nearly glowed, and the ensemble was completed by a tasteful striped tie and silver cufflinks that peeked out from his sleeves.

The man stood with his hands in his pockets. Long dark eyelashes framed the cloudy gray eyes that slid up and down my body like a lover. His angular face was clean-shaven and his lips were bent in a smile, as if he laughed at a private joke. Long, black hair was slicked back and fell just to his collar in subtle waves. His body language screamed womanizer and he instantly put my back up.

“My my my. I didn’t expect to find two such lovely ladies in a hole like this,” he said.

Jesse tittered.
She freaking tittered!
I turned, giving Rico Suave my back and glared at my best friend, who preened. The scrape of a chair told me that he’d joined us without asking for permission. I hated men like him, all polished and manicured, looking like he’d never done an honest day’s work in his whole life. Men should look like men and smell like men, not the product they used on their hair or the lotion they rubbed on their hands. Men like him thought they were God’s gift to woman, and somehow women believed it. Men like him thought they were too good for people like me and they rubbed me the wrong way.

“This isn’t a hole, it’s a historic general store, and if you dislike it so much you’re more than welcome to leave.” I snapped.

He flashed a grin that most women would consider charming, but I thought was insufferable. “Oh, I wouldn’t dream of leaving before I learned your names.”

His confidence that he would indeed receive our names really pissed me off.

“I’m Sally and this is Alice. Now please leave. We were having a private conversation before you rudely interrupted.”

Jesse sent me a dirty look before she flashed a winning smile at the jerk. “I’m Jesse Weaver and this is Shelby Flint.”

She held out her hand and gave the man a look like I was a horribly rude person and she wasn’t usually seen in such bad company. I rolled my eyes and glanced at my watch.
It’s five o’clock somewhere!
I surged to my feet, tossing Jesse a small wave and left without a second glance at the male model.

I practically jogged over to the bar. Buster took one look at me before pouring me a couple fingers worth of whiskey. I was halfway through the drink when I caught a whiff of cigar tobacco and chocolate and felt a warm presence behind me. I turned just enough to catch sight of Mr. Wall Street with my peripheral vision. He leaned on the bar with a self-important grin on his perfect face.

“Can I buy the next one?” His voice was as smooth as silk and it irritated the crap out of me.

“No.”

He ignored me and motioned to Buster for another. The anger that I had unsuccessfully been trying to calm flared into life. Buster raised an eyebrow in question and I shook my head. I heard a tisk from Mr. Model.