Authors: Lori King
Before Mack could respond, Ryk shook his head, “No. My shoulder’s bothering me, so we’re going to head out.”
The flash of disappointment on Zoey’s face sent rage rushing through his chest. Mack had to force his fists into his pockets to keep from teaching his little brother some respect. Ryker’s sullen nastiness boiled down to jealousy, but it was sure getting old.
“Thank you for the invite, Zoey, but I had better get the old man home. I don’t want him to keel over on me. Congratulations on your big day. You look beautiful.” Mack pressed a kiss to her cheek, and she gave him a warm smile.
“Thank you, Mack. And thank you again for helping with the ranch while we go to Cabo next weekend. I’m sure the new ranch hands could have managed, but Tanner will feel better knowing you’re supervising.” As if his name summoned him, Tanner stepped up behind his wife, and bent low to nuzzle her neck.
“She’s right. It does make it easier for me to leave. You know I haven’t been on a vacation since I took over the ranch?” Tanner looked thoughtful, “I’m looking forward to seeing my new wife in a bikini.”
Zoey snorted, “Like you haven’t seen that before? We live in Texas not Canada. I wear a bikini every time we go camping.”
“Yeah, but now you’re our wife,” Dalton appeared on her other side and captured her hand, bringing it to his lips for a kiss. “We don’t have to apologize for our lecherous thoughts about you anymore.”
“You know I don’t recall you ever apologizing for them before, Mr. Keegan,” Zoey answered. Her head fell back against Tanner’s shoulder, and she laced her fingers through Dalton’s. They were the picture of happiness, so beautiful it was painful to look at.
Ryker’s anxious fidgeting drew Mack’s attention and he rushed to say his goodbyes and herd his brother home. He wasn’t going to chance Ryk saying anything that would spoil the Keegan family’s joy. From the stories Mack had heard, those four deserved every beautiful moment they could get.
It was only a few minutes before Mack was parking his big blue Dodge Ram in front of the foreman’s cabin on Brooks Pastures land. Ryk was out of the vehicle and pushing through the front door before Mack had a chance to even shove his keys in his pocket. Annoyance rippled through him. This was getting ridiculous.
Ryk spent ninety percent of his time sitting in the house on his laptop looking at sports reports or watching football. His moping was getting redundant and Mack was over it. Seeing him be so callous toward Zoey’s blissful happiness was the last straw.
Slamming the door open, he stood between Ryk and the oversized television, feet braced, and arms crossed. “What the hell is your problem?”
Ryker sputtered for a minute. He cursed at him for blocking his view of yet another sports recap about some game that happened weeks ago, but Mack refused to budge.
“Ryk, it’s Christmas Eve, and it’s Zoey’s wedding day. You couldn’t even summon up a little decency to congratulate her like a normal human being. What the fuck is your problem?”
Fury broke over Ryker’s face and he launched himself out of the easy chair tackling Mack to the ground. Pain burned through Mack’s jaw when Ryk’s fist planted into it. He didn’t hesitate to take the swings he had been itching for earlier. Rolling on the living room floor, the two exchanged punches, jabs, and kicks until they were both in pain and out of breath. Their anger forced out of them via their fists. Glaring at his brother in silence, Mack pressed the hem of his shirt to his split lip and waited.
“I don’t want to be happy for anyone. I don’t want anyone to be happy at all. I’m not happy. Why the hell should they get to live in some sort of group sex utopia, while I’m stuck jerking off in the shower and sharing a one bedroom shack with my older brother?” The words dripped off Ryk’s tongue like acid, burning through Mack’s heart. Ryk was clearly more affected by his situation than even his brother had realized.
“Fuck, Ryk. Wishing everyone else a shitty life just because you’ve had some hurdles—”
“Hurdles? Is that what it’s called? Fuck that! I was a star, damn it. I made more money in ten years than you will ever see in a lifetime, and it’s all gone. Gone because of one stupid shift to the left when I should have gone right. Gone because I trusted a fucking woman to handle my business. Instead of being professional, her pussy stole every penny I’ve got, and any chance I had at a decent future.” Ryker shoved to his feet and stomped toward the kitchen. Mack was a little slower to rise, feeling the pull in his left side that indicated he had a bruised rib. Ryk didn’t look much better, his nose was already swollen to twice its normal size, and blood speckled his shirt. They didn’t fight often, but when they did it was usually bloody.
“You know what? You are a selfish asswipe. It was their wedding day, fuckwad. You can’t see past your own problems for two hours so they could enjoy their special day. I get it. You’ve lost everything, but you still have the use of your shoulder. Those two thieves will get caught—”
“And I’ll get my money back? Yeah, right. Let me explain how the real world works, big brother, even if the law catches up to them, my money is long gone. I’m flat broke, and I can’t even go back to the job I love and start over.” Ryker slammed two bags of ice on the counter. Mack gave him a begrudging nod of thanks when he slid one across to him.
“So you can’t play ball, big fucking deal. You have a hell of a lot more talent than you give yourself credit for. You trusted the wrong person to handle your money, but you had money to begin with because you have a good head for business. Everyone screws up, Ryk, stop acting like a girl. Man up or pack your shit because I won’t risk you poisoning the people I care about with your nasty attitude.”
Ryker glared at him, but Mack refused to back down. “You can’t tell me you’re happy with your life. Two years ago you were Cormac Thompson, owner and operator of Saddle-Up Leather. One of the biggest and best leather working businesses in Texas. Now you’re just, Mack the farmhand. Can you say you’re content being the foreman on a horse ranch now?”
“No.” Mack shook his head, “No, I’m not happy with that. I want more for my life, but I can’t change what happened in the past. I didn’t have your head for business, and I managed to run mine into the ground when everyone lost their shit in the recession. I fought like hell to keep it together for almost four years before I let the business go under. I’m lucky to have friends like Parker Brooks and his brothers who were willing to lend me a hand and give me a job.”
“As a ranch hand,” Ryker sneered, and Mack had to work to control his temper.
“Yes, as a foreman on a horse ranch. One of the best goddamn ranches in the world, and I work for some great people. I won’t be here forever, and neither will you, but I will put one hundred percent in while I am. I’d rather be known for my strengths than my weaknesses. You need to make a decision, Ryk. Are you going to waste away in that recliner moping about the glories that should have been yours? Or are you going to grow a pair of balls and create a new set of plans for yourself?”
With that, Mack spun on his heel and stormed out of the kitchen. In three large steps he was in his bedroom where he was able to slam the door behind him soothing some of the rage and pain he felt for his brother. He understood what Ryker was going through. Falling from the top to the bottom hurt more than a person could bear sometimes. But it didn’t mean a man couldn’t climb back up if he wanted to. It was a matter of pride, and right now, he wasn’t sure Ryker had any.
Chapter Two
Six months later…
The Garden Hut’s particular scent burned Mack’s nostrils every time he entered the small store. It came from selling everything from garden gnomes and pesticides, to manure, and it was unique to the establishment. Today the building seemed to be unusually empty. Mack couldn’t see anyone in the store, other than the young man who was sitting behind the cash register with a skate boarding magazine in his hands and ear buds in his ears. The teenager looked up and gave him a nod, but didn’t seem inclined to move from his seat, so Mack just nodded back as he walked by.
He had just found what he came in for when he heard a raspy voice mumbling in the next aisle. The person sounded vexed and Mack couldn’t resist a peek to see what the trouble was. Standing in front of a display of plant pesticides was a beautiful curvy woman with a mane of blonde curls and lush red lips that were pursed in frustration. She was wearing a blazer and slim skirt that ended a few inches above her knees, and she had a heavy looking purse slung over one shoulder. Her hands were planted on her ample hips while she tapped one high-heeled shoe with the rhythm of her thoughts. Those shoes were death defyingly high, and capped off the sexiest pair of legs he had ever seen. It was a miracle the zipper on his jeans held. When she noticed him standing there, she turned and her lips curved up a in a small smile. Mack felt like he swallowed his tongue.
“Hi.” Her voice was rough and husky, not particularly feminine, but seductively intriguing anyway. It suited her. So did her tawny hazel eyes. More of a cappuccino color than green, but the flecks of green dotting them were unmistakable. With that mane of golden hair and her blonde fringe of eyelashes she reminded him of a female lion.
“Hi. Were you having trouble finding something?” He cursed himself for fumbling in front of the beautiful bombshell, and her eyes sparkled with amusement.
“Do you work here?”
Mack shook his head, and gestured to the bag of zip ties he was holding. “No, I’m a customer. I just heard you talking to yourself and—”
His words were cut off when she took a step closer and peered at the package he held. She smelled of cocoa butter and vanilla. It was a heady combination for a man who normally spent his time surrounded by horses and leather.
“One hundred and twenty pound rated zip ties. You must be tying up something big,” she said, cocking her head to one side and running her gaze from the top of his curly blonde hair to the toes of his scuffed up motorcycle boots.
Mack felt the pink warmth crawling up his cheeks, and it was clear by her widening smile she saw it. He averted his gaze to the package in his hand cursing his pale skin, and forced his shoulders back. Somehow she had made him forget himself, and that wasn’t acceptable at all. “It’s for securing temporary horse corrals. I work on a horse ranch.”
She nodded, and adjusted her bag. “Ah, I see. Well, Mr.—”
Her voice drifted off, and Mack found himself lost in the shifting colors of her eyes again. It wasn’t until she cleared her throat that he realized she was waiting for him to fill in the blank.
“Thompson. Mack Thompson.”
“Mr. Thompson, I am trying to figure out which of these bottles will get rid of the teeny tiny little green bugs I found on my rose bushes last night. Would you happen to know?”
Mack stared at her while imagining her in a garden surrounded by blooming roses, with absolutely nothing covering her delicious curves from his view. She would be Eve and he would be happy to play her Adam.
Giving himself a mental shake, he turned to the bottles on the shelf, “It sounds like aphids, so you’re going to want something that kills the bugs, but if you aren’t treating your garden regularly to prevent them they will just come back. You have to be on your game with pests, or they will control everything before you know it.”
He reached for a bottle and turned to hand it to her, surprised to find her looking at him with amused curiosity on her face. “Oh, I don’t let too many things gain the upper hand in my life. I’ll have those bugs surrendering in no time.”
A ripple of lust heated him from his belly to his balls at the mere mention of surrendering. What would it be like to surrender to this luscious Aphrodite? He could picture her in thigh high boots, riding his cock and screaming for him to give her more. When the lust cleared from his eyes, he shifted awkwardly and wondered if he had somehow given his own secrets away, but the woman didn’t let on if that was the case.
“Well that should do it unless you have a really large garden and then you’ll want to get a sprayer and the concentrated kind.”
She shook her head, and held the bottle against her breasts. And amazing breasts they were. They would overflow his hands, and he would guess there were large nipples on their tips that would taste delicious.
“So tell me, Mr. Thompson, how does a rancher know about rose bushes?”
Mack grimaced as he followed her down the aisle and back toward the cash register. “My mama has a rose garden. I’ve spent my share of time on my knees in one, pulling weeds.”
She flashed him a wide smile before handing the teenager some cash and collecting her bag. “Lucky for me. Thank you for your expertise. I’d better get home and start battling the bugs immediately.”
With that she was out the door with a friendly wave and a wink. Mack was left standing at the counter feeling like the earth had just been ripped out from under his feet. The woman was gorgeous, outgoing, and flirty—and he hadn’t even managed to get her name. He must be some kind of stupid.
“That will be seventeen fifty.”
The teen’s voice pierced through Mack’s brain and he grunted at him while passing him the money. “You wouldn’t happen to know that woman’s name would you, kid?”
The boy’s lip and eyebrow rose simultaneously signaling his confusion, and Mack took mercy on him. “Yeah, never mind. I’ll find out myself.”
Snatching up the zip ties, he pushed his way out the door, relieved to see a waterfall of blonde curls climbing into a cherry red Mercedes Benz. Taking a chance he stepped off the sidewalk and directly into the path of her car so she couldn’t back out of the stall without running him down. One of her perfectly sculpted eyebrows rose until it was lost under the curl of her bangs, and she pursed her lips as she rolled down the window.
“Do you mind?” Annoyance laced her tone, but her body language was still relaxed, so he gave her his most charming smile.
“I didn’t get your name.”
Her hazel eyes widened minutely, and a tiny smile played at the corners of her mouth. “Why do you need it?”