[Truyện Tiếng Anh] Cowgirls Don't Cry

Cowgirls Don't Cry
Cowgirls Don't Cry Page 30



Evidently Brandt had no response for that.

“So you goin’ to Gillette?”

“Yes. How freakin’ pathetic is that?”

“Not pathetic. Just hopeful things might change between you and your father, and darlin’, that’s a feeling I’ve been familiar with my whole life.” Brandt kissed the top of her head. “I can’t fault you for that hope, but I’m worried how it’ll affect you if this trip ends up bein’ another dose of the same old, same old.

So, if you’re goin’, I’m goin’ with you.”

Jessie cranked her head around to look at him. “Really? You’d give up your one free weekend day to drive to Gillette and sit in an arena that smells like the barn?”

“I’m not givin’ up anything. I’ll be with you. That’s all that matters to me.” Brandt kissed her again, soundly.

Any mention of his feelings for her made her wary, but Brandt did it every chance he had. That’s just the way he was.

Hands roamed, breathing became hot and heavy as the kiss heated. But she didn’t break the connection, Brandt did. He muttered, “We’d better stop playin’ grab ass if we’re hitting the road.”

She nipped his bottom lip. “We’ve got time for a quickie.”

“No way.” He slapped her butt and stepped back. “I want more than a quickie.”

“We could stay here and spend the entire day in bed.”

“Another time. You need to see your dad, even if it’s only for a little while. Call him and tell him we’re on our way.” Brandt pointed at her clothes. “You gonna change?”

She glanced down at the dirt and manure stained coveralls. “You don’t think I oughta meet Billy in my work clothes?”

“I don’t give a damn what you wear, Jess, you know that. Just curious how soon you’ll be ready. I hafta call Tell and Dalton and update them on our plans before we go.”

“Give me five minutes.”

In Brandt’s room, she dug in her duffel bag for the extra pair of jeans. She switched out her ratty long sleeved T-shirt for a newer one, wishing she’d packed something nicer. Her gaze strayed to the closet.

Maybe she’d just wear one of Brandt’s shirts.

Her fingers trailed over the slim selection until she reached a shirt the color of burgundy roses, shoved in the very back of his closet. Not exactly Brandt’s shade. Curious, she pulled it out and realized it was a woman’s shirt.

Huh. Brandt wasn’t the player his brothers were, but she doubted he’d been a monk. She heard about the on-again, off-again girlfriend. He probably wasn’t aware his last squeeze had left it here.

Too bad, so sad. Finder’s keepers.

She buttoned it. Nice fit. Really nice fit. This expensive brand had always been out of her price range.

She stopped in the bathroom and brushed her hair before returning to the living room where Brandt waited.

“Ready? You look…” His smile dried as he noticed the rose-colored shirt.

“I hope you don’t mind. I’m out of clean clothes so I borrowed it from your closet, because truthfully, this one really doesn’t match your color palette.”

His slow aw shucks grin brought out his dimples. “I forgot Lydia left it here or I’da turned it into a grease rag. Keep it if you want. It looks better on you than it ever did on her.”

“Thanks.”

“Let’s go.”

Lexie barked happily at the word go.

“Sorry, not today.” Jessie ruffled her dog’s ears. “Is it okay if she stays inside the house while we’re gone?”

“Yep. I already let her out. Amazing how quick she is about her goggie business when it’s ten below outside.”

Bundling up, she followed Brandt to his truck. She loved how he held the driver’s side door for her.

She scooted across the bench seat, stopping in the middle. As soon as they were on the road, he set his forearm on her thigh and curled his hand around her knee. She laid her head on his shoulder, perfectly content.

Silences between them weren’t unusual. So it surprised her when Brandt said, “Seems quiet without Landon babbling in the background.”

“Almost makes you wish he wasn’t trying so hard to talk, huh?”

He chuckled. “When I talked to Tell, he said Landon wrassled a bear last night. Granted, it was a teddy bear, but I’ll bet my brothers don’t make that small distinction to Landon as he’s growing up.

Already tryin’ to make the kid tough.”

“Why is it such a point of pride that the McKays are known for their toughness?”

“I don’t know if it’s a point of pride as much as it is proof that if you mess with one of us, you mess with all of us. So we’ve all gotta stand our ground because none of us wanna be considered the weakest link.”

“Were your dad and your uncles like that too?”

His posture stiffened. Was Brandt aware how his body changed whenever his dad was mentioned?

“They all had a reputation for brawlin’ with each other and with any unlucky sucker who crossed them. Course, if I hadn’t talked to my cousins, I never would’ve known any of that. If it hadn’t been for Aunt Kimi, none of us—Casper’s sons—would’ve known our grandpop. He lived with Uncle Cal and Aunt Kimi, which pissed my dad off.”

“Why?” She knew little of the McKay family history because Luke never wanted to talk about it.

“Grandpop made it clear he’d rather live with the daughter of the man he hated than with his own son.

I suspect that was the start of the issues between my dad and his brothers, but no one has ever confirmed that’s what sparked the problems.”

“Family drama. Ain’t it fun?”

“Don’t worry, Jess. I won’t pick a fight with a random stranger or do anything to embarrass you in front of your dad.”

“That’s not it. I’m more worried he’ll do something to embarrass me.”

Brandt lifted her hand and kissed her knuckles.

Jessie appreciated he didn’t make false promises that everything between her and Billy would be hunky-dory, sparkly rainbows and lollipops.

The roads to Gillette were icy and Brandt concentrated on driving. She must’ve dozed off because the next thing she knew, Brandt was shaking her awake.

“We’re at the Camplex.”

She stretched. “What time is it?”

“Twelve. What time does the rodeo start?”

“I’m guessing one o’clock.”

“Where are you meeting him?”

“In the contestant area. Not that I have a clue where that is. I’ve never been to the Camplex.”

Brandt frowned. “Didn’t you travel around with your dad for a while?”

“You mean the summer I met you at the Devil’s Tower Rodeo?”

He nodded.

“That was the third and final event I attended with him. I cramped his style.” She smiled. “Which was why I ended up in the bar that night.”

“Do you remember running into us—me’n Luke at the rodeo earlier that day?”

“Uh-huh. That’s how I found out about the dance. Luke asked me to come.”

Brandt parked. Then he turned, cupping her face to give her a tender kiss. “Any time you’re ready to leave, give me a signal.”

“Maybe we should have a code word,” she suggested.

“Like what?”

“Hot, kinky ***?”

Brandt grinned. “I don’t even wanna know how you’d work that into casual conversation with your dad sittin’ right there, so maybe we oughta come up something else.”

“How about slow dancing, in honor of our first meeting?”

“Deal. But I feel obligated to mention that you slow danced with my brother, not me.”

She frowned. “But I know we two-stepped.”

He shook his head. “Sorry. You only had eyes for Luke.”

No point in arguing that one.

They paid the entrance fee to the arena and tracked down the contestant’s area. No one was admitted behind the chutes, but the gatekeeper sent someone to locate Billy Reynolds.

Jessie’s old fears surfaced. What if Billy had changed his mind at the last minute and had bypassed the Gillette rodeo? Wouldn’t be the first time. In truth, Billy had left her hanging more times than he’d followed through with any plans they’d made. She could claim she’d outgrown that fear, but it was embarrassing that Billy Reynolds still had the ability to hurt and disappoint her.

Brandt’s warm, rough, strong hand slipped into hers.

Somehow he knew. Ever since the day she hadn’t walked away when he’d been hurting, things had changed between them. No declarations of love. Just a deeper level of acceptance. Even for things they didn’t speak of. Like what’d happened to Brandt that day to turn him inside out. Like now, when she reverted to the young girl hanging on the corrals, hoping for attention from an absent father before he took off again.

One thing they didn’t speak of? What...

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“Billy.”

He gave her an awkward hug. “Glad you could make it.” He glanced over at Brandt. “Luke. Good to see you.”

Both she and Brandt froze.

Billy wasn’t aware he’d made a misstep.

“Luke died about two years ago, remember? This is Luke’s brother, Brandt McKay. Brandt, this is Billy Reynolds.”

They shook hands.

“Sorry about that,” Billy said. “Sometimes I think I’ve landed on my head too many times and my memory is goin’.”

Or you don’t give a **** about what’s going on in my life.

Acting like a ten-year-old much, Jessie?

Brandt placed his palm in the small of her back. “Got time to have a Coke or something before you ride, Billy?”

“Sure.” They walked to the concession area in silence.

Well, besides Billy stopping every fifteen feet to chat with someone he knew. Not once in those dozen or so times did Billy bother to introduce Jessie to his friends. So by the time they actually sat down, Jessie was wound so tight that one more snip to her tightly held control and she’d unravel.

Brandt’s touch stayed steady. He held her hand, or put his arm around her shoulders, or on her back, or on her thigh beneath the table. His support was absolute.

Billy had always been a man of few words, at least around her, so Jessie was taken aback when he started a conversation without prompting. “How’s your mother?”

“Good. She’s living in Riverton with Roger.”

He nodded. “Happy to hear it. She’s a great lady. Ain’t a day that goes by that I don’t wish…” He offered a sheepish smile. “Anyway, it don’t matter.”

“Have you heard from Josie?” Jessie asked.

“Off and on. For a while it seemed I saw her all over the damn place. And in the weirdest places.”

“Like she was following you or something?” she said, only half-jokingly.

“Yeah. For the life of me, I couldn’t figure out why. It wasn’t like she was competing or dating a professional rodeo cowboy or nothin’.”

Professional rodeo cowboy. Sounded like a misnomer, but Jessie kept her mouth shut because it was probably just her bitterness about Billy considering himself a professional when he’d spent his entire adult life broke, on the road, chasing a dream. Didn’t sound very professional to her.

“I shudder to think she’s become one of them trashy buckle bunnies that follows the rodeo from town to town.”

“Maybe Josie just wants to learn more about your life on the road,” Jessie suggested.

Billy scowled. “Why? She’s a grown woman. She oughta have a life of her own, not worrying about mine. Or checkin’ up on me.”

Rather than argue, Jessie sipped her Coke.

Brandt asked, “So isn’t the rodeo season about wound down?”

“Yeah. Already been decided who’s competin’ in Vegas for the NFR. I came awful damn close to makin’ the cut, but fell short.” He shrugged. “There’s always next year.”

How many times had she heard that?

But Brandt wasn’t easily sidelined. “What do you do in the off season?”

Billy squinted. “Off season? Ain’t no off-season in rodeo. Even if some of the events ain’t got a qualifying purse, there’s always some place havin’ an expo or a one day event. So while I’m waitin’ for the season to get back into full swing, I’m tryin’ to get on as many broncs as I can to improve my buck off percentage for next year. Tryin’ to put a little jingle in my pocket that ain’t comin’ from my spurs.”

The rodeo announcer tested the PA system.

Brandt stirred his soda.

Jessie fiddled with her straw.

Billy smiled. “Speakin’ of jingle…”

Not a very smooth transition, Jessie thought, but subtle never fit Billy. “Yeah?”

“Any chance you could help your old dad out?”

Dad. Right. He’d insisted she call him Billy round about the time he’d left her mom. “Whatcha need?”

He leaned forward, the portrait of sincerity. “The transmission went out on my truck. It’s at a repair shop here in Gillette, but I’m a couple hundred short on the repair bill.”

So. This requested meet up with Billy wasn’t spur of the moment. He’d called her because he wanted something. Money.

Like that’s news, Jessie.

She couldn’t resist poking him. “How long has it been in the repair shop?”

“Since Wednesday. Damn thing blew up right after I got to town. Luckily, I rode well Friday night and ended up in first. Last night I finished second. I’m guaranteed a top five finish today even if I get throwed on my ass. If I finish first overall, it oughta be enough cash to get my truck back. But I ain’t countin’ on it, because them stock contractors brought seriously rank stock for the finals today. I’d rather be safe than sorry, instead of worrying I’ll have to scrub oil pans or something to get my rig outta hock, know what I mean?”

He’d been around for four days and hadn’t bothered to call her. That stung worse than the fact he was hitting her up for cash.

No. That stung like hell too.

Brandt stopped caressing Jessie’s leg beneath the table and reached in the back pocket of his jeans.

She didn’t try to stop Brandt from opening his wallet. She didn’t give a **** if her protest would’ve hurt Billy’s feelings, but she’d never point out to Brandt that his show of generosity was for a man who didn’t deserve it.

He tossed three hundred dollar bills on the table and two fifties. “I have a cousin who’s on the road as a professional bull rider, so I know how tough it is when cash is tight. I’d like to think someone would help him out if he needed it.”

Billy neatly folded the bills and shoved them into his threadbare wallet. “Thanks, man. I appreciate it.

I really do. And I’m considering this a loan, ’cause I will pay you back. Every penny. My word is good as gold. Ask anyone ’round here.”

Liar. She noticed Billy didn’t tell Brandt to ask her if his word was good.

“I’ll hold you to that,” Brandt said without much conviction.

“So, what’s your cousin’s name?” Billy asked with feigned interest, because even as self-absorbed as he was, he understood it’d be rude to take Brandt’s money and run. “Maybe I know him.”

“Chase McKay. He’s in the PBR.”

“Never heard of him.”

Another lie. With as much as Billy Reynolds lived and breathed the world of rodeo, he had to’ve heard of Chase, since Chase McKay ranked as one of the top fifteen bull riders in the world.

“Yeah, well, he’s an up and comer,” Brandt said.

They chatted politely about nothing.

Jessie tuned them out. She was too busy wondering if everyone saw hopeful sucker stamped on her forehead or if it was as invisible as she was.

Billy’s, “Wow, look at the time,” brought Jessie back to their conversation. “I gotta stretch out before my ride.”

“Understood.” Brandt thrust his hand across the table. “Good meetin’ you, Billy.”

“You too Brandt. Take good care of my girl.”

God. Just stop pretending I ever meant anything to you. Stop pretending you care now. You got what you wanted.

“Will do.”

“Jessie, it was great seein’ you. I hope we’ll cross paths again soon.”

“Give ’em hell on those broncs today, Billy.”

“Always.” As he shuffled away, she noticed he didn’t have the same spring in his step as he used to.

Maybe the years beating the **** out of his body had finally begun to take its toll.

It was ironic Billy’s favorite saying, you reap what you sow, popped into her head at that moment.

Jessie and Brandt sat side by side, in silence, for several long minutes. Watching people passing by.

Inhaling the scents of popcorn, nachos, hot dogs and mini-donuts drifting from the concession stand.

Feeling the anticipation in the air because rodeo kick off time neared.

When Brandt rubbed her back in a show of support, she had the overwhelming urge to bawl. Instead, she said, “Let’s go home.”

His hand stilled. “You don’t want to stay for the performance?”

“I’ve just seen Billy Reynolds’ best performance today, so let’s call it good and get the hell out of here.”

Brandt didn’t say anything until they were out of the arena, in the truck and back on the road. “You okay?”

“No. I’m such a ****ing idiot. I can’t believe I fell for his bull****. I should’ve gone with my first instinct and told him I was too busy today to drive to Gillette. Now, we’ve wasted a few hours and you’re out four hundred bucks.” She sighed. “Which I will pay you back for, of course.”

“Like that’s my biggest goddamn concern right now, Jessie,” he snapped. “How long has this been goin’ on?”

“What?...

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“Sounds like I have abandonment issues, huh? My ‘real’ dad bailed on me. Billy bailed on me. But with Luke…he mentally checked out of our relationship before he physically left. So I’ll argue it was different with him. He abandoned me before he died.”

“Not every man is like that.”

“All of them in my experience have been. So that’s all I know.”

Another line of logic Brandt couldn’t dispute.

“Jess—”

Jessie held up her hand. “Please. No more. I have a splitting headache and the glare off the snow is making it worse. I need to close my eyes for a bit.”

Brandt didn’t look too happy, but he said, “All right.”

And she must’ve been more drained than she’d thought because she slept all the way to Brandt’s house.

Chapter Fourteen

Brandt waited in the visitation room of the women’s correctional facility in Lusk, wondering if he looked calmer than he felt. It seemed a bad sign, Samantha requesting this meeting, especially when she’d indicated that she didn’t want him to bring Landon.

The door opened and Samantha shuffled in. She wasn’t handcuffed or shackled, but the neon orange jumpsuit dwarfed her. No doubt Samantha Johnston was a beautiful girl—Brandt still had a hard time thinking of her as a woman. She had milk pale skin and dark brown, almost black hair. But her eyes were the palest shade of blue he’d ever seen. Her eastern European heritage was evident in her facial bone structure. With her slight frame, she looked like a good, stiff wind would knock her over. Striking as she was, she just looked so damn…young.

Samantha slid into the chair, clasping her hands in front of her on the table. “Brandt. Thanks for coming.”

“No problem. Is it stupid to ask how you’re doin’?”

She shrugged. “I’m doing…all right. Except I hate the food. I hate the mandatory therapy sessions. I hate we’re locked down so early at night because I’m a night owl. But I don’t mind working in the laundry.

At least it smells clean in there. And they’ve got a computer in the classroom so I’ve been trying to figure out what to do with my life when I get outta here.”

“Anything in particular jumping out at you?”

“Not yet. Since I’ve got my GED I’m allowed to check out the courses at the community colleges.

Being’s they’re real big on rehabilitating us here.”

A guard poked her head in. She nodded to Brandt and the door shut with an ominous thud and a series of clicking locks.

They only had so much time, and Brandt wasn’t the type to make idle chitchat, especially with someone he didn’t know very well. “So why didn’t you want me to bring Landon along for this visitation?”

Samantha bit her lip, focusing on her ragged fingernails. “I can’t believe it’s been more than a month since I’ve seen him. Time is totally different in here.”

“I imagine.”

“I—I miss him. Don’t get me wrong, I want to see him. I’m sure he’s grown bigger and he’s changed already. But I don’t think if he came to visit that I could stand to give him back at the end of the hour.” A tear fell on the table. “As much as he’s a part of my life and being apart from him is the hardest thing I’ve Cowgirls Don’t Cry

done…it’s surreal. It might sound strange, but I try not to think about him because without having him here, it’s almost like he doesn’t exist. And that’s way easier.”

Brandt had no idea how he was supposed to respond. On one hand, it sounded like she’d already started to phase Landon out of her life. On the other hand, it sounded like the only way she could deal with the separation was with the “out of sight, out of mind” philosophy.

When he stayed quiet too long, she said, “You think I’m horrible, don’t you?”

“I honestly don’t know what to think, Samantha, beyond the fact you’re in a bad situation that won’t improve for at least another three months.”

“A bad situation of my own making,” she said with a sneer.

Not touching that one.

“Sorry. That’s one thing about being locked up in here. I’ve got all this time to think.” Her smile wasn’t convincing. “So tell me about what Landon’s been doing.”

Brandt relaxed. “He had a rough time at first, but we got a pretty good handle on it. He goes to daycare on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays, and my mom takes him the other two days of the week. My brothers Tell and Dalton have helped out. Landon is crazy about dogs.”

“Who has a dog?”

“Jessie.”

Samantha looked at him, eyes narrowed. “Jessie? As in Luke’s wife, Jessie?”

“Yeah. Why?”

“You didn’t tell me that Luke’s wife was gonna be one of the people taking care of my child, Brandt.”

He racked his brain, trying to remember if he’d mentioned Jessie to Samantha. No, he hadn’t, because the idea hadn’t occurred to him until after Samantha had gone to jail. “Last time we spoke, I didn’t exactly have a firm plan in place, besides keeping Landon out of foster care. And since Landon is bein’ well cared for while you’re in jail, I don’t see how Jessie helping out is a problem.”

“Not a problem? I have a problem with it. A big problem. What if she—”

“What if she’s doin’ a damn good job?” Brandt supplied.

She fell back in her chair, arms folded over her chest. “Yeah. Maybe that’s what I’m worried about.

That she’ll be a better mother than me. And between her, your parents and your brothers, they’ll try to take Landon away.”

He counted to ten—any outburst would send the guards in—but he wanted to shake Samantha until her teeth rattled. “You left Landon’s care in my hands and my control. I promised you I’d do everything to keep that from happening.”

Samantha didn’t answer; she just went back to gnawing on her nails.

The need to get out of there was almost suffocating him.

Can you imagine how Samantha feels? Knowing she can’t just leave whenever she wants?

“Is there anything else?” Brandt prompted. “Because we’re about outta time.”

“I don’t suppose you’ve got a pack of cigarettes on you?”

“Can’t help you there.”

“I figured you’d be more the Copenhagen type anyhow.” Samantha sighed heavily. “Thank you. I’m sure it sounds like I don’t appreciate all you’ve done, and all you’re doing, but I do. I really do. I just can’t wait to get out of this place and get back to my life.”

He waited for her to add that she couldn’t wait to get back to her kid, but she didn’t.

“As far as the next visitation?” he asked.

She met his eyes. “I’m not being melodramatic when I say skip it. I know it’s a drive for you. And the holidays are coming up. I don’t think I could stand to see him, knowing…” Her eyes flooded with tears and she glanced away. “Maybe after Thanksgiving and Christmas I’ll be ready for him. I’ll let you know. I get phone privileges soon so I can call you.” Samantha stood and knocked on the glass partition. The guard let her out and she didn’t look back.

Brandt wasn’t sure how long he sat there, his gut churning with the thought that maybe this situation with Landon wasn’t as temporary as he’d been telling everyone.

He didn’t call Jessie until he was close to his house. As much as he appreciated she didn’t ask questions about how it’d gone with Samantha, he needed someone to talk to.

But who? He couldn’t have a rational discussion with his parents or his brothers. His married cousins with kids weren’t options either. If he talked to Kane’s wife, Ginger, she’d probably urge him to prepare for legal action to ensure Landon wasn’t in limbo—even if his mother was.

Brandt ended up driving to his cousin Ben’s place. In ad***ion to knowing his stuff about ranching, Ben was a damn fine carpenter. It’d taken him six years, but he’d designed and built his log cabin home from the ground up. This house sparked Brandt’s envy like no other house in the vast McKay family. Not only was it spacious with three bedrooms and two baths, including a master bath with a hot tub and a walkin shower, and a kitchen that boasted every possible amenity, it was rugged, a real guy’s space. Animal trophy heads lined the walls. A gigantic game room dominated the layout, with a huge big-screen TV surrounded by comfy couches, and a regulation gaming table that’d comfortably host ten card players. A fully loaded, fifteen-foot hand-carved wooden bar, a pool table, and an electronic dartboard. Just outside the garage was a detached woodshop and a metal barn. No one blamed Ben for being such a homebody when he had a home like this.

There was the rumor that his playboy cousin had never brought the same woman back to his house twice. A rumor Ben wouldn’t...

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Brandt laughed. Ben always got straight to the point, which was probably why he’d shown up here.

He took a long pull off his beer. “To be honest, I ain’t exactly sure why I’m here. I just got done talkin’ to Samantha, Landon’s mom, and she left me with a feeling I can’t shake.”

“Like what?”

“Like…maybe she’s gotten used to bein’ away from Landon and would like to continue that when they let her out of jail.”

Ben whistled. “No ****?”

“That’s the thing. Samantha didn’t come right out and say it, I don’t even know if she was hinting around or if I somehow misread it. And it ain’t like I can talk to anybody in my family about it.”

“What about Jessie?”

“Her stipulation was no information on Samantha for the duration of this temporary situation. So if it turns out to be a longer temporary situation than four months, and if Samantha decides she’d rather let us raise Landon…” He sighed. “Us, meaning me raising Landon with some help from Dalton, Tell and my mom.” When Ben lifted a questioning brow, Brandt shook his head. “No ****in’ way will I let Landon live with my father.”

“And how does Aunt Joan feel about that?”

“We’re on the same page, since she’s sneaking outta the house one day a week to watch Landon as it is.”

“What?”

“She’s takin’ care of him at her house on Tuesdays, but on Thursdays she tells dad she’s volunteering for some church thing when she’s really at my place.”

“Why the lie?”

“Because my dad…” He took a drink of beer. “Mom told me she had to go out for an hour and when she got back, Landon was screaming bloody murder in his crib to the point he threw up all over himself.

Seems my dad just sat on his ass in the living room and ignored him. Dad’s excuse? The kid needed to learn early on that he wasn’t gonna get his way by screamin’ his fool head off.” His father’s justification was seriously scary ****. “Jesus. Landon is barely more than a baby. And my dad’s attitude is Landon is acting manipulative? At seventeen months?”

Ben pointed with his beer bottle. “How would it be bad if you ended up bein’ Landon’s guardian? I mean, it’s obvious you care about the kid.”

He didn’t answer. Didn’t know how to without coming across as a pansy ass whiner.

Ben whistled again. “This has to do with Jessie, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah. I’d have to choose, Ben. And how the **** do I do that? Choose between the only living part of Luke I’ll ever have or the only woman I’ve ever…” He scowled. Way to be a pansy-ass.

“I ain’t gonna point out the obvious end to that statement, but maybe you’d better tell me what’s goin’

on with you and Jessie? And how long has it been goin’ on?”

“Since the moment I saw her.” Brandt drained his beer. Ben uncapped a fresh one and set it in front of him. “Thanks.”

“No problem. Keep talking.”

“You sure you wanna hear this? It’s old news.”

“Maybe in your family it is, but I’ve never heard it.”

“Luke and I were at the Devil’s Tower Rodeo and Jessie was there. I noticed her first, something about her just…hit me. Anyway, like a total dumbass, I pointed her out to Luke. And Luke, bein’ the handsome ****in’ cowboy charmer he was, got to her first, which meant I didn’t stand a chance. So over the next month I had to listen to every goddamned detail of how Luke seduced her. Don’t get me wrong, Luke liked her, probably because she was so different from the type of women he usually dated.”

“Meaning what?”

“She wasn’t trashy or wild. I think Luke saw a lot of our mom in Jessie. I also think he would’ve gotten tired of her, but he knocked her up. They got married, she lost the baby, and then my brother started stepping out on her.”

“**** that. I’m sorry Brandt, but that’s bull****. If he didn’t wanna be married to her, he should’ve asked for a divorce.”

“That’s what I told him. And Tell told him. And Dalton told him. Hell, my dad kept tellin’ Luke to divorce Jessie, too, but Luke took extreme joy in doin’ the exact opposite of what Dad wanted, as often as possible. Jessie was caught in the middle. So was I.

“Cut to me stepping in and tryin’ to fill Luke’s shoes after he died. So about a year later, I spilled my guts to her—yes, I was sober—and goddamn if she didn’t give me the ‘friend’ speech. I licked my wounds and tried like hell to erase her from my memory by becoming the wild McKay I’d never been.”

“But it didn’t work?”

“Not even ****in’ close. After she agreed to help me take care of Landon, things have changed between us. In a good way. Now I’ve got her in my life and in my bed and I don’t want it to be a temporary fling. But it won’t happen if I become Landon’s permanent guardian. So yeah, I’m ****ed.” Brandt swallowed a drink of beer. “Ain’t ya glad you asked?”

Ben laughed. “As the McKay World Turns, huh?”

“Yeah. I’m just glad all this **** isn’t common knowledge with our McKay relatives, although they can probably put the pieces together now that Luke’s illegitimate love kid has surfaced.”

“You might be freakin’ out over nothin’, Brandt. From what I understand, Samantha changing her mind is the worst case scenario.”

“True. But in my experience? It’s always the worst case scenario that plays out.”

Ben returned with another beer for himself.

“So…got any advice?”

“Nope.” He swigged his beer and then grinned. “That’s not exactly true. I’m more of an observation type guy, so I’ll tell you how I see it. You’re asking yourself what you’d have to sacrifice to keep her. But why wouldn’t she have to sacrifice something in order to be with you? Unless she owns up to a few things, seems you’re back to being a in one-sided situation and she still has all the power.”

Going round and round with this was pointless. Brandt switched gears. “What the **** happened to Chase in Dallas?”

“You saw him getting tossed into the air and that bull dancin’ the cha-cha on his back?”

Brandt nodded. “If he ain’t still pissing blood after that kidney shot, he’s got my vote for Iron Man of the Year.”

“He’s got my vote for dumbass of the year. Here he’s havin’ the best year of his career and he had a chance to finish in the top fifteen at the world finals. After that last wreck, the sports med doc warned him to drop out. He did, but in his free time while he’s supposed to be healin’ up, Chase has gotten into some…compromising positions with a couple of buckle bunnies. Naturally, their phones had cameras and they caught the whole raunchy performance on video. Which they posted on YouTube. Get this: He’s already got a huge fan club, but since this happened, his PR woman can’t keep up with the media requests for interviews. The women are freakin’ out about seein’ the almighty, bull riding great Chase McKay…buck-assed nekkid.”

“First I’ve heard of it. What’s Chase doin’ about it?”

“Lapping up the media attention like the whoremonger bad boy he is. Which means the idiot is still goin’ out every night, getting drunk and getting laid. I ain’t upset he pissed away the world finals by getting on a bull he had no business getting on, but if he doesn’t take his rehab seriously, he’s gonna end up with a permanent injury.”

Brandt believed Chase would get his **** together, but he also understood Ben’s concern for his little brother. “Tell said you guys are headed to Vegas for the NFR?”

“Yeah. I hadn’t planned on goin’, but since Tell is doin’ the judges course, I can stay with him. Plus, Chase is gonna be there, and he’s so ****ing scrambled he wants to talk to the PRCA folks about what they’ll do for him if he switches to the PRCA bull riding program. Quinn can’t go beat some sense into him because Libby has her hands full with Adam and Amelia, so I’ve been drafted.”

“If Quinn needs help while you’re gone, have him holler.”

“Will do.”

“I better head out. Thanks for the beer.”

“Don’t mention it. Anytime you need to bend my ear again just come on by. Quinn’s preoccupied with Libby and the kids these days, and Chase is never around. I spend most of my day talkin’ to the damn cattle or my dogs, so I appreciate you stopping by.”

Brandt never considered that Ben might be lonely. God knew he’d be lonely if Tell and Dalton suddenly developed other interests. “Will you be around for poker night? It’s at Cord’s, which means we’ll have good eats while he’s kickin’ our ass.”

“That...

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“Just Spanish rice, nothing fancy.”

He looked around the living room. “Landon asleep?”

“Yeah. I know it’s probably crazy to put him down this late, but he was really crabby.”

“Sorry I wasn’t here to help. I ended up stopping at Ben’s place on the way home and we had a couple of beers.”

Jessie smiled, appreciating he’d told her his whereabouts. “No need to explain, but I’m glad you did.”

Brandt crossed into the kitchen, lowering his mouth to hers for a blistering kiss. He tasted of beer and need.

This sweet, hot man could wind her up in no time flat. She returned his kiss with equal fervor, loving his deep groan as she pressed her body to his and twined her arms around his neck. She felt him harden against her belly. Then Brandt clamped his hands on her butt, hoisting her up so her legs circled his hips.

He walked to the bedroom, breaking the liplock as he set her on the bed. “Damn, woman, kissing you almost makes me forget I have a splitting headache.”

His face was pale. And his eyes had that squinty look she associated with pain. Any thoughts of getting nekkid with him vanished. “Would you like me to rub your neck to see if it’ll help your headache?”

“Nah. That’s okay. You don’t have to.”

“I want to.” She laid her hand on his cheek. His skin seemed hotter than normal. “While you strip down to more comfy clothes, I’ll throw the peppers in the pan and be right back.”

“Okay.”

Brandt must be in pain if he didn’t argue.

In the kitchen, Jessie scooped the diced peppers into the hamburger and tomato mixture. She added a cup of rice before putting the lid on and turning the burner to low. After washing her hands, she checked on Landon and returned to the bedroom.

Oh. Lordy. Would you look at that? A half-naked, muscled cowboy hottie stretched out on her bed.

Brandt had taken her strip down suggestion literally; he only wore his boxers.

He turned his head as she climbed on the bed. “I probably oughta be givin’ you a neck rub.”

“You’ve given me plenty of backrubs. It’s payback.” She sat on his butt, tucking her knees by his sides. “Mind if I sit like this?”

“Hell no. If you don’t mind knowin’ that you sittin’ on me like that is gonna give me wood.

Guaranteed.”

She chuckled and splayed her hands across his upper shoulders.

“Ah, sweet Jesus, Jess, that feels so damn good.”

“Close your eyes and relax, Brandt.”

He muttered, “Bossy thing,” and rested the side of his face on the bed.

Jessie worked his shoulders, digging her thumbs into knotted muscles. His headache probably stemmed from the tight points all over his back, not just his neck. She attempted to loosen them, paying particular attention to the area around his spine.

She let herself enjoy touching him, her hands pulling, pushing and smoothing his skin. The musculature of his back had ridges and dips and hollows, forged from hours of physical labor he did every day. Yet that same flesh was pliant. It gave way beneath her kneading fingertips. And the scent of his skin… God, she wanted to bury her nose between his shoulder blades and fill her lungs with all that masculine goodness. Rub her face against his taut flesh, wearing the scent of his skin on hers. Press her lips to his spine and follow the length with her tongue down to his tailbone, tasting his heat and sweat.

Brandt exhaled a contented sigh.

That sigh emboldened her. She gently turned his head to reach the other side of his neck, resting her hands around the base of his throat, working her thumbs from his nape to his hairline. In that position, Jessie had to squeeze her thighs against his side as she leaned over him.

She had no idea how long she’d been lost in massaging him, when a rumbling sound vibrated the fingers on his throat.

Maybe that noise was his polite way of telling her she’d been pressing too hard.

“Am I hurting you?”

“No. It feels so goddamn good. Too good if you know what I mean.”

Ah. He was hard. Because she’d been touching him. A sense of feminine power arose and she nuzzled his ear. “I could work that muscle too.”

Brandt chuckled. “You’ve already done enough.”

“But I could do more.” She teased his earlobe with her teeth, causing him to groan. “Let me touch you. Let me wrap my hand around your **** and get you off.”

“Really?”

Why did he sound so surprised? “Really.” Jessie swung her leg over his left side so she no longer straddled him. “Lift up so I can take your boxers off.”

He pushed up and she slid her hand across his belly, making sure the head of his ***** didn’t catch in the elastic waistband.

Jessie impulsively placed a kiss on each of his butt cheeks. “My God. All that time in the saddle does amazing things for your butt. I always knew you looked good in Wranglers? But cowboy? You look even better out of them.”

“How long have you been eyeing my ass?”

She shrugged. “Quite a bit in the last month, truthfully. Lay on your side. Now reach up and grab the headboard with your left hand. Good. Put your right palm flat on the mattress and brace yourself.”

“Literally brace myself?”

“Yep.” Jessie grabbed the lube off the dresser and liberally coated her right hand. As she stretched out behind him, she wished she’d stripped because she couldn’t get enough of that delicious skin-to-skin sensation. She layered her left arm alongside his, gripping his wrist to anchor herself. Then she reached her right hand over his hip and curled her fingers around the root of his ****, while kissing the slope of his shoulder.

Brandt sucked in a quick breath.

“Tell me how you like it. Slow and teasing like this?” She slid her slippery hand from the base to the tip, sweeping the pad of her thumb under the sweet spot on the upstroke. “Or fast like this?” Keeping her hand a tight fist, she moved up and down the length rapidly.

“Jesus. That feels amazing.”

“Fast it is.”

He groaned, “That’s it,” when she found the right rhythm and speed.

Jessie kissed his nape while she stroked him, pleased how the skin on his arms broke out in goose flesh beneath her questing lips. She explored the tendons in his neck with her tongue. Her teeth grazed the ball of his shoulder and he twitched, head to toe.

“Woman you’re killin’ me. I’m not gonna last.”

“I don’t want you to last. I want you to come.” She increased her tempo, and immediately his butt muscles clenched against the cradle of her hips.

“Jess—”

“Don’t hold out on me, Brandt. I wanna feel your **** jerking beneath my fingers. Give it up for me.”

He came with a low grunt, hips bucking as he spurted into her hand.

Jessie continued to squeeze his ****, kissing his back, wondering what to do with her sticky hand.

Brandt rolled over and handed her his boxers. “Here. Use these.”

“Thank you.” She discreetly wiped her hand and tossed his underwear toward the hamper. “Is your headache gone now?”

“One of them is.” Brandt managed a small smile but a hint of pain lingered in his eyes. “Thanks, Jess.

I should return the favor—”

Slightly annoyed, she said, “I didn’t touch you because I wanted something in return, Brandt. I did it because touching you any way I please makes me happy. Very happy.” Jessie placed a kiss above his heart.

“Close your eyes because I can see that headache is dogging you.”

Landon woke up in a better mood. He’d gotten less picky with food, and ate some of the hamburger and rice, a slice of bread and half a can of mandarin oranges. The instant he was out of his high chair, he shrieked, “Goggie!” and made a beeline for Lexie, who allowed Landon to pet and hug her…for about two minutes.

Jessie was hungry but she waited for Brandt. She did mundane things, started a load of clothes, scoured the highchair tray, let Lexie outside. Then let Lexie back inside, trying to keep Landon from opening the door and following the dog.

Thinking she had a minute to rest, Jessie sat on the couch. Right away Landon scrambled beside her, dragging his new fleece blanket from Grandma Joan and his favorite book about farm animals.

“You want me to read to you?”

Landon blinked at her.

She held up the book. “If you want me to read this, Landon, say yes.”

He nodded.

She laughed. “No way, lil’ buckaroo. You’re not getting away with that nonverbal communication stuff so young. Say yes.”

His fingers worried the fringe on the blanket and stared at her pitifully, but he didn’t utter a peep.

“Okay. Fine. If you don’t wanna read the book…” Jessie set the book on the coffee table. She hated to play hardball, but Landon needed to work on his verbal skills, rather than grunting, pointing and shrieking to get what he wanted.

He yelled, “No!” and scooted off the couch, grabbing the book and shoving it at Jessie.

“We’ve...

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She pointed on the page to a cow hiding in the bushes. “Remember what a cow says? Mmmoooo.” She drew out the word until it was about ten seconds long.

Landon giggled.

“Now Landon—” she poked his chest when she said his name, “—say mmmoooo.”

“Mmmoooo.”

Jessie clapped again. “Good job! You are gonna know all your barnyard noises in no time flat.”

Usually Landon lost interest before they reached the end of a book, but tonight he stuck it out, although he was pretty squirmy at the end. When she closed the cover, Landon launched himself off the couch and ran straight to Brandt.

How long had he been lurking in the shadows? And why was she thinking it was a damn crying shame that he’d gotten dressed?

“Up!” Landon demanded.

But Brandt wasn’t looking at Landon. He was looking at her with the softest expression. He broke eye contact when Landon bumped into his leg with another demanding, “Up!” and lifted the boy. “So I missed story time? Bummer.”

Landon said, “Mmmoooo.”

Brandt grinned. “That’ll come in handy when you’re ridin’ the range with us in a few years, trust me.”

Jessie ignored Brandt’s confident in a few years remark and asked, “Is your headache better?”

“Completely gone. Did you eat?”

“Not yet. I was waiting for you.” Damn. Did that sound…needy?

Why are you so worried about Brandt’s reaction? He’s proven time and time again he’s not like Luke.

“Thank you for waitin’, Jess. I’ve eaten enough meals alone to last a lifetime.”

There was proof of Brandt’s openness. His willingness to just say what he felt. Jessie met his gaze again. “Me too. I’ll dish up the plates.”

Brandt strapped Landon in his high chair and poured him a sippy cup of milk. Then he set six animal crackers on the tray.

They waited to see how he’d react. Sometimes Landon calmly gummed his cookies and sipped milk.

Other times he’d use the heavy bottom weight of the cup to smash the cookies into dust. If he was feeling ornery, or if he was tired, he’d slide his hand on the tray until he knocked every cookie to the floor. Then he’d usually whip the sippy cup too, and scream “No!” at the top of his lungs, arching his back, trying to throw himself out of the high chair.

Tonight Landon used both hands to drink and ignored the cookies.

Brandt tucked into his food. About five or six bites in, Jessie noticed he’d picked out all the green peppers and piled them off to the side. Feeling her curious gaze, he looked up. “What? Am I eatin’ like a pig or something?”

“No, but you should’ve told me you didn’t like green peppers.” She realized she’d put green peppers in a lot of dishes. “I could’ve left them out of everything.”

His neck flushed. “It’s no big deal to eat around them. Especially when everything you fix is so good.”

“Charmer. Anything else you don’t like, foodwise, as long as we’re on the subject?”

“Turnips, parsnips, radishes, beets, prunes, collard greens, Dijon mustard, strawberry ice cream. I could take or leave coconut. Same for cauliflower.”

Jessie stared at him. “So a fall soup with root vegetables isn’t a good idea?”

He smiled. “Nope. But if you made it I’d probably eat it anyway.”

“Because you don’t want to hurt my feelings?”

“No. Because any kind of food just seems to taste better when I’m eatin’ it with you.”

Sometimes the man was just so damn sweet.

Before she could formulate a decent response, Landon shrieked, “Goggie!”

Jessie attributed Lexie warming to Landon because the kid was a messy eater. The dog would park herself beside the high chair and clean up the floor as soon as Landon was done.

So why was she hearing crunch crunch crunch now?

Landon peered over the side of the tray at the dog and giggled. Then he grabbed another animal cracker and tossed it at Lexie.

Crunch crunch crunch and another giggle.

Brandt lifted his brows. “That’s new.”

“Uh-huh. Looks like Lexie will be elsewhere during meals because Landon will give goggie all his food in hopes she’ll be his BFF.”

“At least he hasn’t figured out how to get the lid off his cup yet.”

She jabbed her fork at him. “And you, Brandt McKay, have just jinxed us.”

Landon’s shrieks escalated when he ran out of cookies. Brandt ate the last bite on his plate and stood.

“Okay, partner. You and me got a date with bubbles.”

“No!”

“Yes.” He unclipped the tray and set it on the counter.

“Yef,” Landon repeated.

Brandt looked at her. “That’s new too.”

“I hope what I’ve been doing helps him. He’s a little old for grunting and pointing to get what he wants.”

He swung Landon onto his hip and smirked.

A smirk she recognized. “What?”

“That’s what you reduced me to earlier. A grunting fool and you gave me exactly what I wanted.”

“Grown men really do have the same mentality as seventeen month old toddlers.”

Brandt grinned and headed to the bathroom.

Jessie cleaned up the kitchen and made four bottles. Landon was already down two bottles for the day, compared to the six he’d started with. Bath time had gotten better, but the kid really didn’t like getting wet.

She heard Brandt’s muffled voice and splashing as she passed by the bathroom. In her bedroom she noticed Brandt had draped his clothes over the top of the dresser, instead of leaving them piled on the floor.

Another sign of his thoughtful nature—he didn’t expect her to clean up after him.

She slipped on a camisole and her favorite pair of yoga pants. Granted, she hadn’t attempted yoga, but she figured the pants were the best part anyway. She glanced longingly at the bed Brandt had recently occupied, rumpled sheets and the pillow held the indent of his head.

God. She’d missed having a warm male body beside her. Luke hadn’t been snuggly, so it thrilled her that Brandt slept entangled with her all night. Every night. Without exception. She’d stopped wearing pajama bottoms to bed because Brandt kept her plenty warm. Plus, it was handy when he woke her up to have his wicked way with her.

Powerful stuff, how much he always wanted her. Even now, the thought of his ragged breath teasing her nape, or his mouth tasting the line of her shoulder, or his rough hands stroking her arms, her belly, and her breasts made her wet and achy. There was an odd sort of comfort in the way he touched her in the wee small hours. Almost like a compulsion. An addiction. Sometimes he’d just caress her with a feather light touch until she was ready to crawl out of her skin.

Other times he’d start kissing her neck and keep moving south until his mouth was between her thighs. Definitely erotic, feeling him sucking and licking her *** when she couldn’t see his head beneath the covers and she was still floaty in that morning sleep haze.

“Jess?”

Her cheeks flamed when she looked at him, standing in the doorway with Landon on his hip. “Ah.

What? I was just changing.”

He smirked. He knew exactly what she’d been thinking about. And to add fuel to the fire, his gaze idly drifted over her, head to toe, with a blast of heat strong enough that she had to hold on to the dresser to keep from jumping him.

Landon grunted, breaking their connection. “Anyway, what did you need?”

“Nail clippers. Landon’s fingernails and toenails are like claws.”

“I’ll get them.” She couldn’t resist kissing Landon’s damp, rosy cheek as she passed by him. She couldn’t resist pressing her mouth to Brandt’s full lips.

Brandt’s eyes held pure pleasure. “What was that for?”

She didn’t say, For turning me on in more ways than I ever dreamed possible. Instead, she just gave him the same kind of smirk he’d given her.

Despite his late nap, Landon was tired and Brandt put him down at his usual time. She was in the kitchen, flipping through a cookbook, when Brandt moved in behind her.

“What’s cookin’? Need any help heatin’ things up?”

“You’re funny. I’m looking for a recipe for a pear tart. I’ve got all these ripe pears I need to use up.

And you seem to like sweet stuff.”

“Mmm. I can think of one sweet thing in particular I like to eat. A lot.”

Jessie blushed.

“I love it when you blush.”

“I know, it gives me some color and I don’t look so pasty white.”

Brandt slapped her butt. “Don’t say **** like that or I will spank you and turn your other cheeks red.

It’s ***y as hell how you’ll let me do anything to your body that I want, but if I talk about it, you blush. But since you’re usually dressed when I’m teasin’ you, I wanna know if that blush covers your whole body.”

He kissed the section of skin below her ear. “So...

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“Stay like this.” He slid her hands to the edge of the countertop, slipping his knee between her legs in a signal to widen her stance. “Perfect.”

“Brandt—”

“Trust me, Jess?”

It took about ten seconds, but she nodded.

“Good. Close your eyes. Relax.”

She let her eyes drift shut, but she was in no way relaxed. His body shifted as he reached for something on the counter. Then his wonderfully rough hand glided down her bare stomach, stopping to cover her mound. His fingers stroked her cleft, teasing her folds until she felt herself growing wet, heavy with need.

His fingers vanished. Before she could protest, a cool, round object connected with her clit and she gasped, “What is that?”

“No fair peeking. Keep your eyes closed.” Brandt steadily dragged it up and down her slit in a smooth glide that followed the contour of her *** from top to bottom. He whispered, “Does it feel good?”

“Yes.”

His lips feathered hot, moist kisses across her neck. He circled her clit, never too hard, or too soft, exacting the ideal amount of pressure to keep her wanting more. Then he’d slide it down to the juncture of her thighs, using her slick juices to slide back up.

Jessie noticed the rounded object was no longer cool, but warmed from friction against her body. It didn’t feel as hard. It’d become soft, pliable.

“Imagine this is my **** riding your slit.” He arced it from the opening of her body, up to the top of her pubic bone. Each stroke faster. Shorter. His breath stirred her hair and she had no problem imagining it was Brandt’s **** gently driving her toward orgasm.

On the next upstroke, he brought that mysterious object up the center of her torso, between her cleavage, over the column of her throat to rest on her lips. She felt the stickiness of her juices, not only on her mouth, but in a trail from her chin to her bikini line.

Brandt growled in her ear. “Lick it.”

Jessie’s tongue darted out and she lapped up the taste of her own musky essence from the warm and rounded slope.

“Bite down.”

Her teeth sank in, and the sweet, earthy taste of pear juice burst in her mouth. A moan escaped as she sucked at the fruit, greedily biting off a chunk of perfect ripeness. The flesh nearly melted against her tongue. The fruit flowed down her throat as she swallowed, but more juice spilled from her lips and dripped over her chin as she stole another juicy bite. And another. And another.

Brandt plucked the fruit away, spun her around and fused their mouths together. The taste of Brandt exploded on her tongue, mixing with the sweetness of the pear and the hint of her own juices. He sucked at her tongue, licking the soft depths of her mouth, guiding them to a new level of lust just with his potent kiss.

And then he gently pressed that squishy, sticky fruit to the top of her pubic bone until pear juice trickled down her cleft in a syrupy stream and dampened her thighs.

Jessie gasped at the sensation, breaking the kiss.

Brandt growled, leaving sucking kisses on the sticky trail down her body. He fell to his knees and buried his face in her *****.

“Brandt! Oh God.” Jessie’s fingers scrabbled for purchase on the counter behind her as she attempted to hold on against his sensual assault.

Brandt’s thumbs pulled the skin back to expose her clit. He lapped the juices—hers and the pear’s—

like a junkie. Thoroughly tasting every inch of her while that rumbling noise in his throat that vibrated against her swollen tissues.

When he switched to those flickering butterfly licks, she was toast. Her body shook with every orgasmic pulse. She might’ve gasped. Actually, she might’ve screamed. But she mostly couldn’t hear anything over the blood pounding in ears that mimicked the throbbing goodness pounding in her groin.

It would’ve been embarrassing, how quickly she’d started to come after Brandt put his mouth on her, but the orgasm was so incredibly volatile that any lucid thought beyond Yes! Yes! Yes! didn’t register at all.

Only when Brandt started kissing her quivering thighs did she float back to earth. She peeled her lids open and peered down at him.

Maybe she expected he’d be munching on the leftover chunk of pear with a gleam in his eye. But he had an even wilder look to him.

Keeping his fiery gaze on her, he ***ched his sweatpants and smothered her mouth in another controlling kiss as he brought them down to the floor.

There were no sweet words. No asking permission. As Brandt scrambled her brain with savage kisses, he settled between her thighs, hiked her hips up and plunged inside her.

His lower body pumped into hers, and he attempted to pin her arms over her head, but Jessie twisted free of his grip, digging her nails into his ass as her legs circled his waist. Keeping him exactly where she wanted him.

Brandt slammed into her harder. Pushed her higher off the floor. The kiss became impossible *****stain, given the ferocity of his thrusts.

She canted her pelvis, changing his angle of entry so his every plunge brushed her clit. She hissed,

“Yes. Like that.”

He grunted, flexing his hips with enough velocity they skidded across the linoleum.

Jessie knew he was close, knew she needed to send him over in order to reach that pinnacle herself.

She dragged her nails down his sweat-covered back, loving how the tactile sensation and the hint of pain always surprised him. Always drove him wild. Immediately his whole body shuddered as he started to come, bucking against her forcefully.

Brandt threw his head back and roared. God he was magnificent. Pure male animal.

Her interior muscles took over, tightening around his shaft, pushing her to the place where those rhythmic pulses reverberated throughout her entire being. She had the fleeting thought that this could easily become her sole reason for living—to find this sheer pleasure with this man. And she might’ve started speaking in tongues, because god knew she’d definitely been singing this man’s praises, even if it sounded like gibberish.

His deep thrusts slowed. But didn’t stop. Brandt buried his face in her neck and panted, still pumping into her. It was almost like he couldn’t stop. Couldn’t bear to break their connection.

Jessie ran her palms down his back of his flawlessly rounded butt cheeks. She pressed down in a silent signal for him to stop.

He lifted his head. His eyes were still wild.

She smiled. “Hey.”

But Brandt didn’t return her smile, nor did he bestow those yummy post-orgasm kisses she hungered for. No. A look of shock flitted through his eyes and he abruptly moved off her. So abruptly that his ass hit the floor. Hard. He jammed his hand across his scalp in a move that looked like he was adjusting his hat.

“Brandt?”

No answer.

“What’s wrong?”

“Just…give me a second, okay?”

She pushed up on her elbows and let her toes slide up his shin. “You out of breath or something?”

His gaze swept over her body. Almost clinically. “Did I hurt you?”

“No. Why would you ask me that?”

Brandt looked away.

Jessie reached up and grabbed his chin, forcing his gaze back to her. “Why?”

“Why? Jesus, Jessie. Because I lost it. Completely. I took you down and ****ed you on the kitchen floor, for Christsake.”

“So?” She stretched provocatively because she loved the way his focus immediately zoomed to her breasts. “You always mention my floor is clean enough to eat off of, why wouldn’t it be okay to **** on?”

He just stared at her.

Oh hell no. Was that…regret in his eyes?

“Don’t piss me off, Brandt.”

“Which brings up the question why aren’t you pissed off at me for attacking you?”

“Because I liked it. Actually, I loved it. Not only did I love that I made you lose control, I loved the fact you were so hot to have me right then, that you didn’t stop what you were doing, you didn’t second guess what you were feeling, you didn’t feel guilty. No. You ****ed me on the floor. Hard and dirty. It was ****ing spectacular and I don’t regret a single second.”

When he continued to wear that hangdog expression, she’d had enough. She started to get up, but Brandt brought her back down. Two hundred odd pounds of cowboy pinned her to the floor and got right in her face.

“For the record, that was the hottest *** ever. Ever. No regrets, Jessie. Just lookin’ at you calms me.

But just lookin’ at you also revs me up.”

She touched his face, letting the tips of her fingers follow that strong jawline. “That’s good to hear even when I know it’s hard for you to admit.”

“I can be rough.”

“You think I don’t know that? I’ve known you for four years. I’ve seen that dark look in your eye and then you come back a day or two later bloody and bruised. I don’t fault you for not wanting me to see that side of you, but I’m fully aware it’s there.”

He rested his forehead to hers. “You have no idea what it means to me to hear you say that.”

“I think I do.” She touched her lips to his in a gentle kiss.

“Come to...

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Brandt sighed. “Ain’t no talkin’ you out of this?”

“Nope.” She buttoned her coat and slipped on her gloves. “Just double check that everything is shut off before you leave. I’ll call you when I get there, okay?”

“Okay. But first…c’mere and give me some sugar.” He curled his fingers around her lapels and tugged her closer.

Then he proceeded to turn her inside out with one of his long, drugging kisses, chock-full of passion, sweetness and heat. Boy howdy did Brandt’s kisses pack a wallop. Her knees and her will went weak.

Until he chuckled against the corner of her mouth. “You sure that didn’t change your mind?”

“Nope.” She backed up and he released her. She reached for the duffel bag strap but Brandt firmly knocked her hand away and picked it up. She still wasn’t used to all his gentlemanly quirks, but she really liked them.

But you could get used to them, couldn’t you?

Yes.

She opened her truck door and whistled. Lexie’s furry body was a blur as she leapt into the cab. Her tail wagged so hard it left wet prints on the passenger window.

Brandt hoisted the duffel into the truck bed. “Landon is gonna miss Lexie the next few days. Did you say goodbye to him?”

She wasn’t sure how Landon would take it, given he sometimes screamed when Jessie left him with Brandt or vice versa. The last thing Brandt needed was a cranky, confused toddler. But Jessie suspected Brandt wouldn’t see the logic in her decision not to give Landon an official goodbye, to tell him to be a Lorelei James

good boy and all that parenting stuff, especially since she wasn’t his parent. Yet, she didn’t want Brandt to think she didn’t care because she was starting to care too much and that scared the holy bejeezus out of her.

“Jess?”

Her gaze snapped to his. “Sorry. Give him a kiss for me, okay? I’ve gotta get on the road.”

“Promise me you’ll drive safe.”

“I promise.”

“Promise you’ll call me as soon as you’re at your mom’s.”

It was so sweet he worried about her. Had Luke ever obsessively worried about her like this? Not that she remembered. She smiled at him. “I promise.”

Brandt kissed her again. “Have a Happy Thanksgiving.”

“You too, Brandt.” She slammed the door and backed out of her driveway. The last thing she saw as she turned the corner onto the main road was Brandt still standing on her steps, watching her go.

Luke definitely had never done that.

The drive from Moorcroft to Riverton was uneventful, with the exception of sporadic snow flurries drifting across the road. By the time she’d reached her mother’s house, both she and Lexie were ready to get out of the truck. She texted Brandt rather than calling him.

When Jessie saw her mom standing in the doorway, she had the urge to run straight into her arms, like she had as a child. So it was no surprise to either of them she did exactly that.

Her mom hugged her tightly. “Jessie! It’s so good to see you. I’m so glad you’re here.”

“Me too.” No matter where they’d ended up living as she was growing up, her mom carried the scents Jessie associated with home; coffee, Aqua Net hairspray, double mint gum and Jergen’s cherry-almond lotion. She inhaled deeply and sighed, happy that some things never changed.

“Come in. I’ve got a pot of coffee ready to go.”

“Thanks, but I’m wired enough as it is.” Jessie kicked off her boots, ***ched her coat, hat and gloves.

Then she wiped Lexie’s paws. Her mom didn’t mind pets in the house just as long as she didn’t have to clean muddy paw prints out of her carpet.

“Where’s Roger?”

“At the college. He’ll be here later. He’s trying to catch up on paperwork so he can have the whole weekend off.”

Jessie didn’t really know her mother’s husband Roger Randolph very well. They’d met through the community college in Wheatland where he taught and she worked as an administrative assistant. By that time Jessie already lived on her own. Then she’d met Luke, married him and moved to the McKay ranch.

About six months before Luke died, her mom and Roger had relocated to Riverton. Roger was a nice enough guy, and he seemed to make her mother happy, so that’s all that mattered. “Is Josie coming?”

That gave her mother pause. “No. You haven’t talked to her?”

“She doesn’t exactly keep me on speed dial.” Jessie’s sister, Josie, had inherited her father’s wanderlust. After years spent waiting for Billy to get off the road, her mother had finally divorced him the year Jessie turned twelve. The sad thing was, it hadn’t affected Jessie’s life because Billy hadn’t been around much anyway.

But it’d affected Josie. Josie had romanticized her father and his lifestyle, so she took off right after she’d turned eighteen. It’d been a hard blow to their mother, and for that Jessie resented her younger sister.

Any close relationship they shared vanished when Josie did.

“I talked to her last month,” her mom said. “She’s working at a restaurant in Dallas.”

No big stunner Josie was in cowboy country in Texas. Jessie couldn’t muster interest in Josie’s latest escapade and refused to pretend. She also refused to mention to her mother she’d seen Billy because she doubted she could be civil about him, either.

She wandered into the kitchen and snatched an oatmeal raisin cookie. Her eyes nearly bugged out at the three different kinds of pie, and cinnamon rolls, and brownies, and two different types of cookies—all homemade—that crowded the countertop.

“You want milk with that?”

Milk. Right. Jessie smiled. “Nope. I’d rather have a beer.” She helped herself to one from the fridge.

“Do you have time to sit down? Or are you still whipping up food for tomorrow?”

“I’m mostly done. Gotta get up and put the turkey in, glaze the hamballs and peel the potatoes, but I figured you could help me.”

“Sure thing. How many people are you feeding?” She took a long pull off the Corona.

“Eight. Our friends Barb and Tim, our empty nest neighbors Rich and his wife Dawn, and Roger’s new teaching assistant, Jake.”

Jessie slowly lowered the bottle. “Mom. Please tell me you’re not trying to fix me up with this Jake guy.”

Her mother grabbed a dishrag and wiped cookie crumbs from the counter. “Not a fix up. But Jake is a really great guy. He’s single, so are you. You’re around the same age, I thought it’d be good for you to have someone show you around while you’re here.”

Regardless of what her mom claimed, this was a fix up. Although she and Brandt were exclusive while they were living together, this thing, whatever it was, was temporary.

You don’t really believe that. There’s more going on between you and Brandt than just hot ***. This thing could be the start of something big.

But her cynical side reminded her that there already was something very big between her and Brandt, something insurmountable: Landon’s future.

“Jessie?” her mother prompted. “I see the wheels turning. What’s going on?”

“Besides the fact I’m currently helping my former brother-in-law take care of my dead husband’s secret love child from a jailbait jailbird? Oh, and just to make it even more interesting, I’m now sleeping with said brother in law.”

After her mom picked her jaw up off the floor, she pointed to a dining room chair. “Sit and start talking. I’ll get more beer.”

Jessie knew her mother intended to grill her when she ***ched her apron, embroidered with a big “L”

for Lisa. Removal of the apron indicated the shift in parental roles from cookie and comfort giver to interrogator. She sipped her beer and waited for the barrage of questions.

It didn’t take long.

“Did you end up in this situation with Brandt out of guilt?” Her mother raised her hand when Jessie began to object. “I know you’re in the situation with Landon out of some obligation you feel to Luke.”

Jessie ran her thumb along the edge of the sandstone coaster as she tried to figure out a way to explain it, when half the time she didn’t understand it herself. “Being in such close quarters with Brandt felt different from the start. That everyday familiarity between us built pretty damn fast and in some ways, it was more intimate than ***. I missed that physical closeness, and since we were already acting like a married couple, I told him I wanted all of the benefits of being married.”

“So you approached him?” her mother asked.

“Yes.” Jessie swallowed a mouthful of beer. “Hard to believe, huh?”

“I’m happy you did. At least you’re getting something you want out of this lousy situation. How you’re able to handle…” She shook her head. “I don’t know what I would’ve done if one of Billy’s floozies would’ve shown up with a kid he’d fathered.”

...

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“Honestly? Because I’d forgotten about it. So many other things happened over the years. It came back to me when you said you were helping out with Luke’s kid. So no, you’re not a doormat, Jessie. No matter what Luke led you to believe.”

She killed her beer. “Luke and I were headed for a divorce anyway.”

“I know.”

“I loved him. I’da done anything, let him get away with anything, been anyone he wanted me to be, just to keep him.”

“I know that too, sweetie.”

She held her fingers to her eyes to stem the tears. “God, Mom. I’ve had time to think, a lot, too much time probably, but one of the hardest parts of losing Luke was figuring out I’d lost myself too. I let him define me. And when he wasn’t around to tell me who to be, I didn’t know who the hell I was.”

Silence fell and Jessie welcomed it.

Her mother cleared her throat. “And what about Brandt McKay? Are you letting him define you?”

Jessie shook her head. “Which might seem at odds with agreeing to help him take care of Landon. I’m not doing it for Brandt. I’m not even doing it for Luke. I’m doing it for that little boy, no matter if Landon ever knows it, no matter how hard it is. He needs me. I’ve already got a lot of regrets where Luke is concerned and I won’t let ignoring this helpless kid be another one.”

“Will you be able to let Landon go when the time comes?”

I don’t know.

The door in the living room opened and Lexie started barking. Jessie grabbed her collar and issued a terse, “Stay.”

“Lisa?”

“In the kitchen with Jessie, Roger.”

Roger came through the door in stocking feet. Before he acknowledged Jessie, he gave her mother a kiss on the lips. More than a peck, less than dueling tongues, but a kiss filled with warmth and affection.

“Hey, you.” Her mom smiled up at him, happiness shining in her smile and her eyes. Jessie fought those stupid tears again because if anyone deserved a man who adored her, it was her mother.

Roger kissed her one more time. “Hey yourself.” Then he remembered Jessie was in the room. He adjusted his glasses. “Jessie. Nice to see you. I hope the roads were all right?”

“They were fine.”

Roger crouched down to pet Lexie, giving Jessie an opportunity to study him. He definitely looked like an accounting teacher with his white button up shirt, plaid cardigan, and khaki pants. Beneath his thick glasses were kind brown eyes, which were another indication of his gentle demeanor.

“Would you like a glass of wine?” her mother asked him.

“No, thanks. I’ll let you get back to girl talk.”

Jessie stood. “Actually, I think I’ll head to bed.”

“I didn’t mean to chase you off, Jessie,” Roger said.

“You didn’t.” She swiped her mother’s half-full bottle of beer. “Besides, I think Mom would like that glass of wine.”

“I put your stuff in your usual room.”

“Thanks. Goodnight.”

“See you in the morning, sweetie.”

Jessie wandered into the bedroom. The first time she’d come to her mother’s home after Luke had died, she’d taken one look at the twin bed—a blatant reminder of her single status—and she’d slid to the floor, weeping.

No urge to weep arose this time, but she had gotten used to sleeping with Brandt in the last few weeks, wrapping herself around his warm body after they’d made love and before they drifted off. She’d really gotten used to his unique way of waking her up.

She slipped on her pajamas. Lexie preferred tile to carpet, so she curled up on the floor in the adjoining bathroom.

Jessie slid beneath the sweet-smelling sheets and brought the down comforter under her chin. She turned on her side to get comfortable, squinting at the red numbers on the clock on the bedside table.

Eleven. Was Brandt tucked in bed? Or had he fallen asleep in front of the TV?

Ten minutes ticked away. Then twenty. She heard her mom and Roger moving down the hallway, followed by the click of their bedroom door closing.

Another fifteen minutes passed. Almost midnight. She should be tired. But she was wide-awake.

Her cell phone vibrated on the nightstand. Jessie snatched it and smiled at the caller ID: “Hey. Is everything all right?”

“Yeah.” Brandt cleared his throat. “Didn’t mean to scare ya, I just called because I…missed you.”

Her heart did a little flip. How sweet that he didn’t think anything of calling her up just to tell her he missed her.

“Sorry if I woke you.”

“You didn’t. I was just laying here staring at the ceiling, to be honest. Did you get my text?”

“Oh, was that what the ‘I’m here’ meant? That you’d arrived safe and sound in Riverton?”

“Sorry.”

“How’s your mom?”

“Good. She’s been baking and cooking all day. She’s invited a few people over for dinner tomorrow.”

“Anyone you know?”

Was she supposed to tell him about the single guy her mom had invited? No. Especially when she hadn’t met the man yet. Not that Brandt would be jealous…would he?

Jessie had the perverse impulse to tell Brandt about her blind dinner date, just to see how he’d react.

High schoolish, Jessie.

“Jess?”

“What? Oh sorry, no, I won’t know anyone.”

“Well, I’m hopin’ all her dinner guests are old couples and that she isn’t tryin’ to fix her single, hot daughter up with some guy.”

Gulp.

“You’re such a flatterer, Brandt McKay. Hot daughter. Right.”

“You are hot. Smokin’ hot,” he whispered huskily. “And if you were here, I’d prove just how hot I think you are.”

She rolled flat on her back and adjusted the phone. “How would you do that?”

“I’d kiss you. And once I had your focus totally on those long, wet kisses that make you whimper, I’d start to unbutton your pajama top.” He paused. “You are wearin’ them long john ones you’re so crazy about, aren’t you?”

“Yes. Why? Would you rather I wore something ***ier to bed?”

Brandt growled. “What’s ***y is what’s under whatever you’re wearin’, which is why I can’t wait to peel it off you.”

“Mmm. Keep going, cowboy. Then what would you do?”

“Once I had that shirt hangin’ open, I’d drag my palms down your chest until I had your breasts cupped in my hands. I’d brush my thumbs across your nipples until they were tight points. Then I’d put my mouth on them. Just my lips. I’d nibble. Tease with those butterfly flicks that make you arch your back and moan. I might use my teeth. Test that edge of pain. I might get the tips wet and blow just to see hard I can get ’em. While my mouth was workin’ you, my hands would be strokin’ that soft curve where your heart is racing. By that time you’ll be begging, grinding against me so I’d suck your nipple until I had the whole thing in my mouth.”

This was actually getting her worked up.

“I heard that catch in your breath, Jessie. Is this turnin’ you on?”

“Yes.”

“Touch yourself. Close your eyes and do everything I tell you. Imagine my hands, my breath, my mouth on you.”

Her answering, “Okay,” came out in a breathy whisper.

Brandt made that low-pitched growl again. “Pinch your nipple.”

Jessie switched the phone to her left hand and used the fingers on her right hand to twirl her right nipple into a tight peak.

“Is it hard?”

“Yes.”

“Put your fingers in your mouth. Get them wet. Now twist the tips just to that edge of pain.”

She did exactly as he asked, imagining Brandt’s hands, and it shocked her that the fingers touching her nipples…didn’t feel like her fingers.

“God, it’s ***y as hell, listening to those noises you make. Now loosen the drawstring on your pants just enough so you can slide your hand down there. Skim your fingers over your belly. Stop and stroke that sweet, soft section of skin between your hipbones. I love how your skin gets goose bumps when I touch you there.”

Her flesh rippled. “Me too.”

“Now slip your finger beneath your panties. Follow the slit from the top to the bottom. Slowly.”

Jessie let her index finger trace the rise of her pubic mound to the entrance to her ***.

“Tell me, Jessie. Are you wet?”

“Very wet.”

“Let your fingers play in that wetness, swirling it around. Then bring the tip of your finger up those soft pink folds and touch your clit. A little, not a lot.”

“But I want to touch it a lot.” She let her middle finger draw circles around that hidden bit of flesh.

Brandt chuckled. “I’m sure you do. But I’m not done playin’ with you. I like to drag this out because I love havin’ my hands on you.” His already raspy voice dropped another octave....

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“If I was there I’d be kissin’ your neck, leaving love bruises from that spot below your ear to your collarbone. I’d feel those **** muscles pulling my fingers in deeper with every stroke as I moved my thumb faster over your clit. Then I’d whisper, ‘My sweet, ***y Jessie, come for me now’ and you’d explode.”

“God, Brandt,” was all she got out before the spasms hit. She gasped as her clit pulsed beneath her thumb. Her fingers were wedged deep in her *****, squeezed by the contractions so strong they robbed her of breath. The orgasm didn’t last long, but it was intense enough she dropped the phone.

When she heard, “Jessie?” coming from far away, she turned, expecting to feel Brandt’s warm body, because she always zoned out after she climaxed. She heard, “Jessie!” again and opened her eyes. Brandt wasn’t there. She was in a single bed with her hand between her legs and her cell phone on the mattress next to her head.

“Hello? Jess? Did you hang up?”

She grabbed the phone and pushed herself up, reaching for the tissues on the nightstand. “I’m here.

But, did we really just…”

“Have the most ****in’ amazing phone *** ever? Hell yeah we did, baby.”

Jessie laughed softly. “You are so naughty, Brandt McKay. Making me come so hard that when I opened my eyes, it surprised me you weren’t really here. But it sure felt like you were. The whole time. I especially like the way you whispered in my ear.”

“You always like that,” he murmured. “No matter which way we end up doin’ it.”

“We have given the Kama Sutra a run for its money, haven’t we?”

“Don’t know what that is, but I do know when you started to make those hot, ***y noises, I…”

“What? Got a hard-on?”

His rough chuckle tickled her ear. “No. I had wood from the instant you told me you were wearin’

them long john pajamas. So as I was tellin’ you what I wanted you to do—”

“You were taking the edge off?”

“Edge? Hell, when you started to come, I did too.”

She sighed. “I guess I don’t get to have my turn blowing your mind, huh?”

“You already did. But next time I’ll let you take the lead.”

“Tomorrow night?” she asked hopefully.

“Definitely tomorrow night.

“I can’t wait.” She yawned.

“You’re tired. I’ll let you get some sleep.”

“Thanks for calling me, Brandt. Not just for the amazing phone ***, but for…” Caring about me.

Jessie couldn’t make herself say it. She could whimper, moan and play raunchy *** games with him, but when it came to disclosing her feelings…she just couldn’t. ***? She could handle. Getting Brandt’s hopes up that this might become something more than *** seemed unfair.

“Anytime sweetheart, I’m not goin’ anyplace. Sweet dreams.” Brandt hung up.

Before Jessie fell asleep she realized she hadn’t asked about Landon at all.

Chapter Seventeen

“Only one thing puts a smile like that on a man’s face,” Tell said.

“And it sure as hell ain’t pumpkin pie,” Dalton added with a snicker.

Brandt snapped out of his flashback to the second night of steamy phone *** with Jessie—and glanced at his smartass brothers. “Maybe the smile is because I’m thinkin’ about kickin’ your asses.”

“Nah. You’da done it yesterday when Dad pissed you off. God knows you love to rail on us when he makes you so mad. Which don’t seem fair, does it, Dalton?”

“Nope. But I’m used to bein’ picked on.”

Tell’s softly spoken, “We’re all used to it,” hung in the air of Brandt’s truck cab like a slab of rotten meat.

Thanksgiving was supposed to be a day when family came together to eat, laugh, watch a little football, eat some more, play cards, hang out.

But that’s never how Thanksgiving played out if Casper McKay had any say in it. He didn’t give a **** that his wife had slaved over a hot stove creating a tasty, plentiful meal. He didn’t care it was the first holiday he’d spend with his only grandson. He didn’t care none of his own family ever invited him over for holiday.

No, the only thing Brandt’s father cared about was if there was enough beer in the fridge. Which there hadn’t been. Which sent Casper McKay rummaging through liquor cabinet during dinner.

Belligerent didn’t begin to describe his behavior after a couple of belts of whiskey. For the first time since Jessie had taken off for Riverton, Brandt was glad she hadn’t been around to witness the family fiasco. His dad baiting him every five minutes. His dad bellering at Dalton for something he’d done or left undone, probably a decade past. Then sneering at Tell for his pathetic attempts to keep the peace.

After three hours of pure hell, Brandt made his excuses. He and Landon hightailed it out of there.

How his sainted mother put up with Casper McKay’s crap for over forty years was truly a miracle. But even docile Joan McKay had snapped at her husband when he acted like an ass. Which had been frequently.

“Does that smile mean you’re thinkin’ about Jessie?”

Brandt gave Dalton, in the passenger seat, an annoyed look.

Tell leaned between them from the back of the quad cab. “What Dalton ain’t so good at askin’—” he shoved Dalton slightly, “—is if you and Jessie are makin’ plans for the future. Because you seem awful damn happy, and we’d be pissed if you were keepin’ it from us.”

“Yeah, because you guys have been so supportive when it comes to how I’ve felt about Jess in the past,” Brandt said sarcastically.

“It’s different now.”

“How so?”

“Because now she feels the same way,” Tell said. “She didn’t before.”

That jarred him. How did these two know how Jessie felt about him when he wasn’t sure about it himself?

“Besides. Jessie’s changed. She was pretty firmly under Luke’s thumb, and it’s taken her some time to figure out who she is and find herself again.”

Dalton shoved Tell this time. “Jesus, Tell, what’s with you spouting off all this new age, hippie, mumbo-jumbo ‘finding herself’ bull****?”

“I suppose you’ve got a better explanation, Mr. D-minus in psychology?” Tell shot back.

“I sure do.”

Brandt tuned them out as they bickered. He tuned them out so completely it took, “Whoa, Brandt, you’re gonna miss the turn,” to get his focus back.

At least fifteen pickups were parked at Cord and AJ’s house. Staring at Cord’s big house, Brandt had that same wistful feeling he’d felt at Ben’s. Not wanting a fancy place to hang his hat, but a home, his own home. His trailer wasn’t much more than a place to crash every night.

His brothers were quiet and Brandt wondered if they were thinking the same thing. Landon yelled,

“Up!” and drummed his feet into his carseat.

“We hear ya. I’ll get him since I’m already back here,” Tell said.

After he got out of his truck, Brandt was surprised to see his mother walking toward him. Did that mean his dad had decided to show up at the annual McKay post-Thanksgiving get together? “I didn’t think you guys were comin’ today.”

“Your dad isn’t. I left him at home.” His mother’s eyes darted to where Dalton and Tell were unloading Landon. But she didn’t go over to offer them help.

“You okay?” She actually seemed nervous, which was crazy because she’d been coming to McKay family events for four decades.

Her pale blue eyes shifted to him. Her dark hair, once streaked with silver, was now all silver. Again, it struck him how much she’d aged since Luke’s death. Her smiles were rare these days, too, so when she laughed, Brandt didn’t know how to react.

“Honestly? I’m nervous, even when I know that’s just plain stupid. It’s strange showing up at a McKay family party without your father, but ain’t no one gonna be cryin’ in their beer Casper ain’t here.

Especially not his brothers.”

“Which puts you in an awkward position.”

“Yeah, but it’s not the first time nor will it be the last. Kimi and Carolyn and Vi have always treated me well, even when they can’t stand Casper.” She turned and looked at the house. “Hard to believe how long your father and I have been married. But when his brothers and their wives all started havin’ babies…

I’d come to these things and cry for days afterward because I wanted what they had.”

He knew his mother wasn’t only speaking about kids.

“Then my boys came,” she absentmindedly reached out and stroked Brandt’s coat sleeve, “and I fit in.

I could join in the discussions about toilet training, frogs in the bathtub, and the ranching responsibilities you’d all have to live up to as you grew...