Wild Montana Nights (7 page)

Coffee would be wonderful about now. She filled the pot with

water and measured in the coffee and sat down to wait for it to make.

Ten minutes later she held a steaming mug in front of her and willed

it to do its thing. She needed some measure of control right now and

as shaky as her hands were, that wasn’t happening on her own.

Sometime later she poured another mug and set about making

breakfast. She decided on pancakes and ham. It would mean she

wouldn’t have to sit down at the table with them. By the time she had all of it made, they would be getting ready to leave. It was a good plan she decided with a smile.

“Love seeing that smile on your face first thing in the morning,

baby.” Marcus ambled into the kitchen and poured himself some

coffee.

“Good morning.” Darla finally managed to get out.

“How did you sleep last night?” he asked. His eyes never left hers

over his coffee.

“Fine. I slept fine.”

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Marla Monroe

“Morning, you two.” Randall walked over to the coffee pot and

helped himself to a mug.

“I’m cooking pancakes and ham. Have a seat, and you can start

eating while it’s hot.”

Forty minutes later Marcus put on his hat and left for the barn and

Randall holed up in the office to work, leaving Darla alone to eat in peace. She managed to stuff two pancakes down her throat before

giving up and starting on cleaning the kitchen.

She still had the rest of the basement to finish. She gathered her

cleaning supplies once again and headed downstairs. She took down

the remaining jars and arranged them in date order on the shelves at

eye level. Then she concentrated on the wine bottles. There were

roughly a dozen of them to clean. By the time she had the second set

of shelves clean, her water was dirty and she longed for another cup

of coffee. It was chilly in the basement even for the long sleeved

flannel shirt she wore.

Darla poured out the dirty water in the utility sink in the back

room and left the bucket in the sink for later. She made enough coffee for two, figuring Randall might like a second cup as well. She

hesitated outside the office door, wondering if this was such a good idea after all. Swallowing, she knocked then pushed the door open

wider when Randall answered.

He sat behind his desk clicking on the computer keys without

turning to look at her.

“Um, I brought you some coffee. I made half a pot and thought

you might like another cup.”

He looked up without seeing her for a few seconds then smiled.

“Sounds good to me.” He took the proffered mug and took a sip.

“Thanks.”

She turned to leave, but he stopped her.

“Wait. Keep me company for a few minutes while I enjoy the

coffee. I’ll go back to work and let it get cold if you leave.”

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49

Blackmail. She nearly smiled at the thought. She should leave and

get back to cleaning the basement. Instead, she found herself taking a seat across the desk from Randall.

“So tell me more about Mississippi.”

“Not much to tell. It is mostly flat with some hills. Nothing like

the mountains here. They raise cotton, soybeans, catfish, and the usual farming stuff.” She shrugged.

“So, you just up and decided you were tired of the weather and

decided to move to the opposite extreme of icy cold Montana winters.

Hmmm,” he said.

“What does that mean?” Darla wrinkled her brow with a frown.

“Just that I can’t imagine that being the only reason. Must have

had something to do with a man.” Randall leaned back in his chair.

“Why is that it always has to be about a man? Can’t a woman

make a decision without there being a man behind it?”

Randall laughed. “In my experience, it’s always about a man.”

Darla huffed out a breath and stood up. “I’ve got work to do.” She

turned and walked toward the door, but Randall grabbed her arm and

turned her around. He backed her up to the door until her weight

closed it behind her.

“W-what are you doing?”

“What I’ve wanted to do every time I see you.” He leaned down

and captured her lips with his mouth.

He teased and cajoled her mouth until she opened to him. His

tongue darted inside to duel with hers. She couldn’t resist him and the urge to mate her tongue with his. He tasted warm and good. Different

from Marcus. His tongue tickled the roof of her mouth and soon had

her giving him what he wanted. She plastered herself against him as

he took her mouth in the hottest kiss she could remember. Her hands

moved of their own accord to tangle in his hair. His hands cupped her ass cheeks, kneading them even as he stroked his tongue in her

mouth.

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Marla Monroe

Slowly, he pulled away and looked down into her eyes. His were

heavy lidded and full of desire. Desire she understood. Men had

desired her in the past. But sharing her was alien to her. Most men

didn’t want to share a woman. Hell, most men would kill another man

who touched their woman.

“You’re thinking too hard,” Randall said.

“I just don’t get how you can even think about sharing a woman

with your brother. Eventually, you would get jealous.”

“No. We grew up with two fathers, and it seems natural to us to

share. I fell hard for a girl in high school like you do at that age, but Marcus did, too. We fought over her, and when it was all over, she

was dating someone else and we knew we would always want the

same women. Sharing is the natural thing to do.”

“It may seem natural to you, but it’s unnatural to me,” she said.

He moved against her, and she could feel the hard outline of his

cock against the softness of her belly. It felt massive. She drew in a deep breath at the longing deep inside of her for that rigid shaft to tunnel inside of her. A shiver flowed over her.

“Cold?” Randall ran his hands up and down her arms, adding

friction to the wrong part of her body.

“A little. I need to get back to work. That will keep me warm

enough.” She tried to ease between him and the door.

He placed a hand on her face and dropped his forehead to hers

until their noses touched.

“Don’t run. I won’t bite, I promise.” His eyes twinkled

mischievously.

Darla compressed her lips together. “Yeah, right. Let go. I need to

get back to work.”

He sighed loudly, then backed away from her. She licked her lips

and eased past him. He didn’t do anything to stop her, but he didn’t

move any further away either.

The rest of the morning passed quickly. She managed to clean

nearly all of the basement on one side before lunch. Marcus walked in
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51

and tossed his hat on a hook. A scowl marred his face as he walked

into the back room to wash up. She wondered what had him frowning.

Shrugging, she went to call Randall to the table. When she got back,

Marcus was making sandwiches. She had already eaten hers but sat

down at the table since they would insist anyway.

“What have I said about eating?” Marcus growled.

“I already ate. I was hungry right after I finished working some in

the basement, so I ate before you got here.”

“You were down in the basement again? You better not have been

on the ladder,” Randall warned.

“You hired me to keep house. I can’t do that if you’re fussing at

me every time I do anything.” Darla stood up so fast the chair scooted out behind her. She jammed her hands on her hips and walked out of

the kitchen.

She left them to their meal and gathered up dirty clothes instead.

She climbed the stairs and started in their rooms. She was surprised.

They weren’t total wrecks as she would have imagined being men,

and bachelors at that. The dirty clothes were piled in one corner of the bedrooms, but the clean clothes were obviously put away instead of

sitting around on the dresser or somewhere. She piled all of it outside at the top of the stairs and went in search of a couple of laundry

baskets to carry it all down in.

When she walked through the kitchen to the back room where the

washer and dryer was, the men stopped what they were talking about

and watched her walk by. Neither one of them said a thing while she

was in the laundry room, or when she walked back by them with a

pair of empty baskets in her hands. She had no idea if they continued their talk once she was gone.

She separated the clothes into stacks by color and type then piled

them into the baskets. She would only be able to take one down at a

time though. Resolved to another trip up and down the stairs, Darla

hefted one in her arms and started down the stairs being careful of

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Marla Monroe

where she placed her feet. About the time she made it to the landing, Marcus walked by the stairs and grabbed the basket out of her arms.

“I’ll get that.”

He strode through the living room and called out to Randall as he

did. “Get the other basket of clothes on the stairs, will you?”

“I can carry dirty clothes, Marcus.”

“No need when we’re around. Besides, this is two weeks’ worth

of washing.” Marcus set the basket down in front of the washing

machine.

Seconds later, Randall dropped his next to it. He grinned at her

and flicked her nose with a finger. She scowled at him and began

loading the washing machine, ignoring them as best she could.

“I’ll see you at dinner tonight.” Marcus walked out, leaving

Randall and Darla alone in the small room.

“Anything else I need to get for you?” Randall asked.

“No, thanks. I can handle it from here.”

He started to walk out but turned back around. “Oh, don’t worry

about who’s clothes are whose. We wear the same things, so it

doesn’t matter. Just so long as we each have enough in the drawers

and closets to wear.” With that, he left her to the washing.

She let out a breath she hadn’t known she’d been holding. She felt

like she was a rubber ball wound tight as a spring. One good bounce

and she would be off into the sky.

The rest of the day she spent washing and drying clothes while

cooking dinner. By the time Marcus made it inside and cleaned up,

she had the roast, potatoes, and peas on the table. The rolls where still in the oven, but by the time Randall showed up, they would be brown.

“I’ll go get him.” Marcus walked outside the kitchen door and

yelled down the hall. “Dinner’s on the table, bro!”

“Sheesh,” Darla said. “I could have done that. Maybe I should get

a triangle like they always show on the western shows.”

Marcus grinned and took his seat. Randall soon followed, sniffing

the air.

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53

“Something smells good. Better even than what’s on the table.”

Randall craned his neck to see around her.

“It’s dessert. If you behave yourself, I’ll give you some after you

eat.” She smothered a laugh when both men frowned at her.

Dinner was a rowdy affair with Marcus fussing about ornery cows

and the predicted storm coming up. Randall filled him in on the

breeding records, and then they both waited patiently while Darla

finished eating before they asked for dessert. She thought it was kind of them to wait on her. That or they really thought she wouldn’t let

them have any if they were demanding.

“How bad of a storm will it be? I mean it hasn’t really been that

cold yet.” Darla couldn’t imagine a serious storm when it made it past freezing during the day.

“Predicting four to six inches of snow. Not a lot, but it’s the first snow of the year, so you never know. Plus, the temperatures are

supposed to drop below zero for a couple of days. That along with the wind is dangerous to men and cattle.” Marcus hummed his

appreciation of her peach cobbler.

Randall scarfed his down and passed his bowl for another helping.

She laughed and gave him a couple of spoonfuls. Marcus did the

same. She realized she was going to be hard pressed to keep sweets

around the place if they ate like this every day.

“Should hit sometime tomorrow afternoon,” Randall said around a

mouthful of cobbler.

“I don’t want you outside anytime after noon tomorrow. The

temperatures are going to start falling fast, and a storm can blow up before you know it,” Marcus added.

“Goodness. I’m not going to get caught in a storm just walking

outside for something.”

“I mean it, Darla. You aren’t used to winters here, and I don’t

want to take the chance something could happen to you.” Marcus

leveled his gaze to hers.

“Fine. I’ll stay inside tomorrow,” she capitulated.

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Marla Monroe

Randall nodded and got up. “I’m going to go tie up a few things.”

Marcus continued sitting at the table and groaned. “I think I ate

too much.”

“Neither one of you should be able to waddle away from the table.

You ate two helpings of cobbler each.”

She gathered the dishes up and stacked them by the sink. Then she

began putting away the food. She would cook extra tomorrow to

assure they had plenty in case they lost power. She needed to get her laundry done as well.

When she began rinsing off the dishes to put them in the