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

HER COWBOY TRIPLE TEAM

Ride ’em Hard 4

STACEY ESPINO

Copyright © 2012

Chapter One

Kayla Roberts watched the red pickup truck pull into the parking lot, and her heart fluttered in anticipation. She tidied the desk in a hurry, inadvertently knocking over her coffee.

“Shit,” she muttered, trying to blot up the hot liquid with tissues while simultaneously checking her hair in a compact. It was only Tuesday, and she hadn’t expected Grant to come in to settle his account until Thursday. Kayla scowled at her reflection. She hadn’t even bothered to put on makeup in the morning.

From beyond the large picture window of the feed-center office, she could see him saunter toward the entrance, his tan cowboy hat obscuring his face. Why did she feel like a love-struck teenager every time she saw Grant Garner? She was turning thirty in a few days and needed to act her age.

The door opened, the small brass bells tinkling against the glass. Grant gave her a big smile, the one she looked forward to every time he stopped by. “Mornin’, darlin’.”

“Good morning, stranger. You’re in early this week.”

“I was just coming into town, so thought I’d drop in to say hi.” He sat on the edge of her desk, the fresh scent of the outdoors surrounding him. “Thought you might be lonely with the Wilders gone this week.”

Her brother Clay’s new in-laws usually ran the office, but they were out of town trying to snag some new accounts while a big rodeo was being set up farther south, leaving her in charge until they returned. She didn’t mind helping out part-time, especially on Thursdays.

“There’re always ranchers coming through. But it was sweet of you to think of me.” Sweet? More like fucking incredible. Grant was the man she envisioned when she was in bed at night with her vibrating best friend. But most of the cowboys visiting the office enjoyed flirting with her. She knew better than to take it personally.

“We’re having a corn roast at our place tonight. You’re welcome to come by. If you don’t have a drive, I could pick you up.” The light from the window made his eyes bluer than the midday sky. He tilted his Stetson farther back, his tousled brown hair falling slightly into his eyes, matted down from his hat. He was ruggedly handsome, with a strong jaw and narrowed eyes—everything a man should be.

She was sure the Garners wouldn’t be crazy about Grant bringing home a washed-out secretary to join in the family festivities. They loved her brother, Clay, because he’d married their only daughter and brought prosperity to the town with his distribution center. Kayla was sure that love didn’t extend to her.

“I don’t know, Grant. I have a lot to get done around here.”

Of course, she had little to do but wasn’t used to big social events. In high school she was never invited to dances and parties, and as an adult she lived a lonely life following her brother as he traveled the rodeo circuit.

Grant leaned over her desk, his blue eyes focused on her. She held her breath. “You can’t work all the time. It’ll be fun. Everyone will be there.”

“Maybe.” She started sorting the account folders on the desk to keep her hands busy. Grant’s forearm stretched out next to her did unspeakable things to her body. He was all man—rugged, golden, with plenty of toned muscles. Why couldn’t she stop envisioning those arms supporting his weight over her naked body?

He poked at the pile of stained tissues near his jean-clad thigh. “You have an accident?”

“Coffee catastrophe. Did you want one?” They had a coffee and water station set up for clients.

Grant ignored her offer, still distractingly close. “How’s your brother getting along? I haven’t seen him in a while.”

“You guys would probably know more than me. Doesn’t your mom still call Angel every night?”

“True.” He smirked, a devilish tilt of the lips. “I guess that makes us brother and sister, don’t it?”

“No,” she snapped. Her brother may have been married to Grant’s sister, but that sure as hell didn’t make them siblings. If it did, that would make her a very sick puppy, because her fantasies of Grant were not wholesome.

He stood up, his leather boots creaking, spurs chiming, as he strolled over to the coffee station. “Just pulling your leg, Kayla. Angel’s more than enough. I couldn’t handle the stress of another little sister.” Grant poured coffee into a Styrofoam cup, his movements slow and nonchalant.

Little sister? Kayla was certain she was older than Grant. It was the main reason she felt uncomfortable giving in to his flirtation. She had no right to be wasting the time of a young stud like Grant Garner. He could have his pick of women and, if he was like most cowboys, had probably sampled most of them. She’d be best sticking to her art and getting affection from her cat, Sepia.

“It must be lonely at your ranch with Chase and Angel gone now. It’s just you and Matthew left.”

“We’re too busy to think about being lonely. Two less hands means twice as much work.” He sipped his coffee, strolling around the office. There was a calmness about Grant, but it was overridden by her intense sexual yearning when he was near. She felt fidgety and distracted, wondering what to say next. It didn’t help that her pussy beat so hard so could barely focus on anything but sex.

“Some of the other ranchers hire seasonal hands. Would that help?”

He scoffed. “Darlin’, there aren’t many family-run operations with the means to pay casual laborers. I’d much rather work my own land with my own hands anyhow.” He buried the thumb of his free hand behind the waist of his jeans. His thick, brown leather belt was already too low on his hips to be holy, and now she couldn’t look away. Just the sight of his big silver buckle made her blood fire hot. “You must have been talking with the
Richmond
brothers. I wonder if those boys do a lick of work with all the staff they’re able to hire.”

“I’m sure Landon or Clay wouldn’t mind lending you a hand.”

He mock scowled in his usual adorable way. “You’re not making me feel very virile today, Kayla. I promise I can manage just fine. Besides, Landon and Clay have their heads spinning starting up their new cattle operation. I don’t envy them.”

She wanted to say that Grant had nothing to worry about. He was as virile as they came, and if his boot size was any relation to his cock size, he would be impressive in bed.

The door opened, bringing the raucous laughter and conversation of three middle-aged ranchers into the office. “Did that shipment of feed I ordered come in, darlin’?” asked Mr. Moore. His talking voice always sounded like he was shouting, but he was a friendly man like most of the townspeople.

“I don’t usually handle the ordering anymore, but I’ll check for you.” She got up from her desk to check the file cabinet where the Wilders kept their records just in time to see Grant crunch his cup in his fist and drop it in the garbage can. He leaned over her back while she sorted through the files. His nearness was distracting. The three ranchers were oblivious, deep in conversation about wheat prices and genetically engineered grain.

“I’ll pick you up at your place tonight at six.” His breath was hot against her neck, awakening her senses. She stifled the throaty sigh about to break free. It had been so long since she had felt like a woman and not just Clay’s little sister or the office secretary.

When she turned around to refute Grant, to tell him she’d rather not come to their cookout at all, he was already halfway to the door. She called out his name, but the sound was drowned out by the loud voices of Mr. Moore and the other men.

Great!
The last thing she needed was to hang out with a bunch of country folk she barely knew. It would be all over the gossip wires tomorrow. She was still trying to live down the old-maid title she’d been lucky to receive once the town found out Clay had an unwed sister living above the hardware store. At least she only had one cat. This town was unreal, with ménage relationships appearing to be the norm. So a single woman not living at home was frowned upon. It’s not like she had a family to return to. Her brother was all she had ever since her parents were killed in a car accident when she was a teen.

“Ms. Roberts, you don’t deal in the modified grain here, do you?”

“Not that I know of. You’ll have to ask Clay or Mr. Wilder when they’re in.”

There had been buzz about area farms growing bioengineered wheat to battle the disease and inclement weather faced by the organic farmers. She usually blocked out the voices when the men started talking about grain and farming. Kayla had no interest in any of it, which was why she was so ill fitted to work in the distribution center. All she knew about the new grain was that Clay refused to distribute it, something about losing three-quarters of his established clientele. Some ranchers even had petition signs on their property fronts or stickers on their bumpers, clearly unwelcoming the technology to their town.

She scanned the documents in the folder. “Your shipment should be ready for you at the loading dock, Mr. Moore.”

“That’s good news, baby girl. You say hello to your brother for me now.” He tilted his hat and headed out with the other two ranchers.

She noticed one of the men had put up a poster on the community board advertising a rodeo a couple towns over. It was probably where the Wilders were. Kayla wanted nothing to do with the rodeo events ever again. She’d had more than enough when traveling with Clay over the years.

Once she was finally alone, she felt boneless. Kayla sat on the edge of her desk, dreaming of Grant and dreading going to his place in the evening. Why hadn’t he asked her out on a real date? Would she even agree, when any relationship seemed so ill-fated? Her head was spinning. This wasn’t even a date, just a grateful cowboy being nice to the owner’s sister. They probably talked about her behind her back, felt sorry for the poor girl living all alone with no prospects.

She returned to her desk chair and fired up the computer. It was an ancient model and took forever to warm up and load. Now that the Wilders were running the distribution-center office, she was no longer needed. Clay knew she had no interest in running his new business, so he’d given the responsibility to Landon’s parents. It was the perfect fit, since the Wilders had owned the old feed store before they moved into town.

Clay hoped Kayla would focus on her art and let him support her, as he always had. But he was married now, handling two businesses. It was time for him to cut the strings and let her live her own life. She’d much rather live in the city. The country was too quiet for a woman not interested in being alone with her thoughts.

She began to research the price of faraway apartments and job prospects. Now that she’d put her foot down and refused to let her brother baby her, it was time for her to start her life as an independent woman. It was a long time coming, but if she failed, at least she’d tried.

* * * *

Grant joined his brother Matthew in the grassless clearing near the horse barn. They were having the corn roast for about fifty close friends and family. Although their wheat fields were a constant headache, the corn had been a bumper crop. So it was a time to celebrate, to give thanks, and to enjoy the fruits of their labor. The oversized stainless-steel pots were boiling salted, sugared water. A marinated pig was roasting on the spit in the fire pit, being monitored by his father with pride. His dad loved it when the family got together. With his increased age and ailing health, it was more important than ever to have the annual corn roast.

“You actually invited Kayla?” Matthew laughed out loud. He sat on a small, wooden milking stool as he peeled the husks off the corn.

“What? She’s Clay’s sister. He’ll be here with Angel and Landon. It was the right thing to do.”

“Sure, Grant. You should get a humanitarian award.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Matthew tossed another corn into the barrel with a hollow thud, adjusting his Stetson to keep the late-afternoon glare out of his eyes. “You like her,” he said matter-of-factly. “I’m not blind, and you don’t exactly hide your attempts at flirting.”

“Flirting?” he cried. “She’s like family. What kind of man do you think I am?”

“A man without a woman, that’s what. And don’t give me that bologna about family. You know damn well you don’t think of her as a sister.”

“She’s still family.”

“You ashamed to admit to liking her? Is it because she’s older than you?”

Grant’s discomfort vanished, replaced with a surge of defensiveness. “She ain’t older than me. And I sure as hell wouldn’t be ashamed of a fine woman like Kayla.”

“I know for a fact she’s turning thirty on the fifth. Heard Angel and Clay talking about it when I was over there last weekend.”

Grant was at a loss for words. Kayla didn’t look older than twenty-five. She had thick waves of chocolate-colored hair, eyes as dark as a moonless night, and a pretty, heart-shaped face. Every time he’d visit the feed center, she was the highlight of his day. Those big doe eyes and sweet smile were like a lifeline to him during the chaos of harvest season. He’d always stop to talk with her, enjoying a bit of teasing and flirting. Grant felt comfortable around her, and she never tried to impress him but remained honest and down-to-earth. She certainly didn’t look thirty years old. He supposed it didn’t matter that Kayla was four years older than he. Age was only a number, and besides, the gap was minimal.