Acres, Natalie - Sex Club [Cowboy Sex 5] (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour) (50 page)

BOOK: Acres, Natalie - Sex Club [Cowboy Sex 5] (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour)
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“Have you met my brother, Tristan?”

Tristan extended his hand. “Mr. Cartwell, we’ve never been formally introduced.”

Kane stared at his outstretched arm. After he cleared his throat, lifted an accusing brow, and tilted his head toward Ansley, he said, “I used to frequent this club. Years ago, I was a regular here. Did Ansley tell you that her mother and I used to spend a lot of weekends here?”

“No, Sir,” Tristan replied, dropping his arm.

Ansley’s heart sank. Her father had obviously seen them on the dance floor. He was prepared to judge Tristan because of the actions she’d provoked. This wasn’t good. Daddy Kane wasn’t one to give second chances.

“Yes, we had us a grand old time,” Kane said, reminiscent.

“That’s super,” Tristan said, practically under his breath, probably quite uncertain of how he should deal with her father.

They could forget about saving face. Ansley assumed her father had witnessed enough to practically almost catch them in the act.

Oh, how embarrassing
. Ansley spotted a very amused Patience watching them from across the room. She looked down the length of the bar and noticed Graham and Elliott, too. They looked worried.

They should’ve been.

That’s when Ansley remembered the hour. “Daddy Kane, why are you here?”

“Business,” he replied.

“It’s early in the morning. Closing time,” she said, aware of her irritated enunciation.

“Young lady, don’t you dare patronize me. I’m aware of the hour.” He pointed to a nearby table as customers started to file outside, leaving the bar for the night. “Men, if you will, I’d like to have a moment.”

“Dad!”

“Ansley, this is a conversation between men.”

She took a disconcerted breath. Tristan squeezed her hand and winked. “It’s fine, Ansley.”

Without a moment’s hesitation, Tristan brushed his lips past hers. Bailey kissed her cheek.

Her heart soared. Her father gaped at her with a stern look etched upon his face, and that same heart sank.

“Ansley, do me a favor. Tell Elliott and Graham I need a word with them as well.”

“Daddy, I think I’m old enough to—”

“Good. Then you can follow directions clearly. Graham and Elliott are over by the bar. Go fetch them, and while you’re over there grab a bottle of your best scotch. Put it on my tab.”

He didn’t have a damn tab.

She marched to the bar. “Graham, Elliott, Sir Cartwell would like a word with both of you.”

“I’ve been expecting several, if you want to know the truth,” Elliott said.

“You ain’t lying,” Graham muttered.

Elliott moistened his lips. “Come here.”

“What?”

“Come here,” he insisted, dragging her against him. Their lips met, and he whispered across them, “That on the dance floor was the sexiest thing I’ve seen in here in a long time.”

“I’m thrilled you enjoyed yourself.”

“I’d let you feel around for proof of that excitement if your dads—all three of them—weren’t over there watching us right now.”

“They have no business here at this time of the morning,” she said, still quite irritated that her good times and happy reunion were rudely interrupted.

“It’s probably important, Ansley,” Elliott said. “Put a smile back on your pretty face.”

After Elliott walked away, Ansley said, “Patience, hand me Daddy Kane’s scotch, please.”

Patience set the bottle on the bar. “What’s this about?”

“I have no idea,” Ansley replied.

“So the head Cartwell wants to have a drink with us?” Graham asked, taking the bottle of scotch from her hand the second she lifted it.

“Don’t expect a Sunday-brunch invitation,” Kimberly said, returning in time to witness Ansley’s approaching breakdown.

“Daddy Kane walked up while I was on the dance floor with Tristan,” Ansley said.

“He was finger-fucking her,” Patience informed her.

“Do ya any good?” Graham asked.

Ansley laughed. “Depends. What do you consider good?”

Graham’s mouth went to her ear. His fingers loitered at her belt. “Did you get off?”

“What do you think?” she rasped, swiping away his wandering fingers before her father found another man whose hand he’d refuse to shake.

“Are you wet?” Graham asked, tongue in cheek.

“We have an audience.”

“They aren’t paying attention to us.”

“Go,” she said, giving him a push backward. “They’re waiting on that scotch.”

Graham grunted. “Shit. Remind me to beat whoever is in charge up front. Your fathers should be stopped at the door after a certain hour.”

“That would be Baron,” Patience informed him.

“Oh,” Graham muttered, his shoulders relaxing. “In that case, I guess I’d better serve the man his liquor.”

Kimberly thrust a tray of crystal tumblers his way. “Make yourself useful.”

Showing off, Graham held the round, wooden serving tray in the air and approached the table. About that time, Ansley’s other fathers joined the table.

“Fucking fantastic,” Ansley muttered. “They’re using that strength-in-numbers bullshit.”

Patience leaned over the bar. She clasped her hands and said, “They’re one short if they want to match ’em…three of them, four of your fellas. The odds swing in your favor, honey.”

Kimberly sighed. “By the look on Daddy Kane’s face? I’d say they need all the help they can get.”

Chapter Thirty-Two

With the exception of Kane, Ansley’s dads warmly greeted Tristan. Considering the mess they were in, Tristan appreciated the older generation’s input, too, not that they’d ever dealt with similar circumstances. Still, they were working to form a plan together, and if their suggestions worked, Ansley wouldn’t have to completely abandon her family or her life in Fletcher.

After they first sat down, Tristan and Bailey answered questions, explained the current threats against them, and listened as Ansley’s dads rambled off ideas. Their main objective, like any parent’s, was to safeguard their daughter. On the bright side, Tristan believed they shared common goals where Ansley was concerned.

“We’re making a lot of assumptions here,” Kane said as soon as Patience delivered another bottle of liquor and Braden returned from making one more phone call.

“Such as?” Bailey asked.

“For starters, how do I know my daughter even wants to go with you?”

“She’ll go,” Tristan assured him.

Kane arched a brow and frowned.

“Kane, listen,” Graham began. “You’ve known me a long time. You know how I feel about your daughter, and surely you understand that I’d never put her in harm’s way. I’d cut off my own arm to save her.”

Grunting, Kane mumbled under his breath, “You boys better be worried about another piece of equipment. That’s what got y’all in this situation in the first place, and I wouldn’t mind disposing of all existing problems at the moment.”

Bailey shifted in his chair. Elliott dropped his hands in his lap.

Tristan stood.

“Sit down, son,” Kane said, pointing at his vacant seat.

Tristan clenched his fists and followed his direction. He may have been Ansley’s father, but he’d continued to push him to the limit. His roundabout threats didn’t sit well.

“Let me ask you something,” Kane began, his gaze working between Tristan and Bailey. “Where is all this money now?”

“Safe,” Tristan replied.

“That’s not the answer I wanted. I asked a direct question. Where is it?”

Bailey and Tristan stared at one another. After several seconds, Bailey said, “Swiss banks for the most part. We have about twenty-five million in investments—stocks primarily—and another two million on hand.”

“How do you make withdrawals without the banks becoming suspicious? How do you avoid tipping off the mob?” Braden asked.

“We have a few runners, older family friends whom we’ve trusted for years,” Tristan explained. “We won’t run out of money while we’re traveling, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

Braden’s phone rang, and he disappeared again.

Tristan should’ve been asking them what kind of business they conducted in the middle of the early-morning hours. This time, Braden returned more quickly than he had the two previous times.

“All set?” Kane asked.

“It’s taken care of,” Braden replied, pouring another drink.

Kane stroked his chin. “All right, boys. Listen up. You’ve obviously been good at hiding. Since you’re alive, I’m assuming you’ve managed to stay ahead of the threats that are always chasing you. Still, you haven’t been traveling with my daughter. If you take her with you—if she even agrees to go—you’ll play by our rules now.”

“We don’t need your help,” Tristan said.

“Hear him out,” Evan said.

“Let him talk, Tristan.” Bailey thinned his lips.

Tristan couldn’t help but go along with the Cartwells. Bailey believed in them. Ansley trusted her fathers. If they planned to skip the country with the woman they loved, the handwriting was on the wall. They would follow the Cartwell plan now.

“I’ll speak whether you listen or not,” Kane said. “And if you leave with Ansley, you’ll follow my wishes and the itinerary we set for you.”

Damn it
. Tristan wished someone would’ve warned him. Ansley should’ve told him that her fathers were impossible.

Braden obviously worked out this deal—whatever it was—and Evan played the good guy, but he was evidently there to back up whatever Kane put in motion.

“We have a cabin cruiser in South Florida. We purchased the boat for Peyton. We were going to take her on a tour around the world for our upcoming anniversary. She’s always wanted to see various countries, and we figured it would be cheaper to go at our own pace as time allowed. We planned to hang on to the yacht for a year or two, but if we have to keep it indefinitely, we can work something out.”

“Ansley isn’t big on the water,” Elliott told him, as if he didn’t know that about his own daughter.

Kane arched a brow. “Since when?”

Then again, maybe not.

“We’ve offered to take her on several cruises in the past,” Elliott said.

“She always said no,” Graham added.

“Keep her busy,” Kane bit out. As if he realized how they’d manage to occupy Ansley, Kane changed his tone. “She’ll be fine.”

“Braden, tell them what you’ve arranged,” Evan said.

“We chartered a plane for you. Your pilot will be waiting at the airport. You’ll pay him cash. Since your trip was arranged last-minute, you’ll give him fifty g’s when you board,” Braden said.

“Fifty grand? Are you fucking out of your mind?” Tristan said.

BOOK: Acres, Natalie - Sex Club [Cowboy Sex 5] (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour)
13.1Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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