Sia

Two weeks later . . .

 

“So . . .” I lifted my head up from grooming Sandy to see Clara standing by the stall door.

“So what?” I smoothed my hand down Sandy’s neck.

Clara’s dark eyes bulged. She was only twenty, but she was the best damn assistant I ever had. To be honest, outside of Ky and Lilah—and now Hush and Cowboy—she was my only friend.

She threw up her hands, and then checked around us. “So? So? Sia, don’t leave me hanging! You tell me you’re coming home and to take a vacation, and then I get back to two of the hottest men I’ve ever seen just shacking up with you, playing house, and you ask me so?”

Dropping my hand from Sandy, I walked to the stall door and unlatched the bolt. Clara only moved back enough for me to get out, before following me into the back room while I collected the bridle and saddle. Clara was hot on my heels as I returned to saddle up Sandy. I sighed and busied myself with the task at hand while trying to think of what the fuck to say.

“Sia!” Clara insisted, clearly annoyed.

I finally looked up. “They’re just watching out for me for a while.”

“Why?”

I wanted to tell Clara what was going on, but Ky had made me swear never to divulge the truth. I shrugged. “My brother got some news that there’d been home invasions around some ranches. He just wants us to be safe.” She knew Ky was a biker. Beyond that, she knew nothing.

No one ever did.

“I hadn’t heard that.” Her eyebrows pulled down.

“Like I said, he’s got contacts. It hasn’t been made public.” I turned my face away and fixed the length of my stirrups.

Clara must have bought my white lie, because when I turned around she was in the stall, looking excited. “Well?” she asked in a hushed voice. “Which one do you like?” She held up a hand as my mouth opened to put her off the scent. “And don’t try to protest. You’ve been walking around here with a spring in your step since I got back, and I know it’s due to either the two-hundred-thirty-pound slice of blond cowboy beef or the milk-chocolate blue-eyed god I’ve seen brooding around this place.”

I shook my head. “Clara, I promise you, I want neither of them.” I was surprised how easily that particular lie slipped from my lips. Because just picturing them, based off her description alone, had my thighs squeezing together; the image of being trapped between them both, naked and sweaty, their hands all over my flesh, filled my mind.

“Really?” she said, hand on hip. “Then why is your face all flushed right now?”

“It’s hot.”

“I’ll tell you what’s hot, the one with the shaved head and full lips.” She bit her tongue. “Have you ever seen eyes that blue before? I swear, I walked past him yesterday, met his eyes, and nearly melted on the spot. If you don’t like him—”

“Leave off Hush, Clara,” I warned, the words leaving my mouth before I’d even had a chance to realize I’d uttered them.

Clara began to smile. She shrugged. “Then I’m good with the blond. I love a Stetson on a guy.”

I squeezed my eyes shut. “Clara, you’re gonna stay away from both of them, right? Neither is up for grabs.”

Clara’s mouth froze open, and then she covered it with a hand. “Oh shit, Sia. You’re in deep shit. You like both of them.”

“No . . .It’s not . . .” I lamely tried to argue.

“You do!” she exclaimed, her voice much louder than before. “Hell, girlfriend, I see why you do, but liking them will just make things beyond complicated—”

“Liking who?”

My head snapped around to the entrance of the barn. Cowboy stood against the door, arms folded and eyes bright. Clara looked at me, then back at him, eyes comically wide. I swallowed. “Just some guy I met at a bar a while ago.”

Cowboy’s eyebrows pulled down. Then he strode toward me, slow, measured, and seemingly completely pissed.

“I gotta go,” I heard Clara say from behind me. I didn’t once look away from Cowboy. Didn’t even move as he opened the stall door and came inside, stopping mere inches from me.

“You got a man, cher? You wanting some from a bar?” he said, and I saw something I had never seen in his gaze before—jealousy . . . and a hint of anger. Those feelings looked strange on Cowboy. He was the epitome of the laid-back man.

“No,” I whispered. Cowboy lifted his hand and ran it gently down my arm. My skin bumped in its wake.

“Then who were you talking about, darlin’?” My eyes closed and I sucked in a breath. “Cher?”

His hand ran up and down, up and down, until I couldn’t take it anymore and I blurted, “You.” My eyes flew open.

A slow, satisfied grin pulled on his mouth. He stepped closer. So close that my breasts scraped the hard planes of his chest. I tipped my head back to look up at him. He brushed a strand of hair off my face. “Just me?” he whispered, his deep timbre traveling through my body faster than lightning.

“No,” I relented and watched his smile widen. I knew I was losing my mind. What woman lusted after two men? Then again, what two men sought out women together? The same woman, no jealousy or competition?

None of this was fucking sane . . . yet I couldn’t seem to help myself.

Or bring myself to care.

Cowboy leaned down and brushed a kiss across my cheek. “That’s real good,” he drawled then backed away, leaving me breathless, a walking bag of Jell-O. “I’ve come to watch you train.” He bit his lip exaggeratedly and moaned. “Can’t get enough of seeing you fly around those barrels, cher. Fuck, I think it’s become one of my favorite sights in life.”

Forcing myself to keep my shit together, I took hold of Sandy’s reins and led her from the stall. As we passed the new stallion I was gonna train to be an up-and-coming bronc competitor, I said, “Pepper here needs training today. He’s a bronc. You up for the challenge?” Cowboy had yet to show me his talents, but as soon as Clara picked Pepper up yesterday, I knew I’d soon get my chance to see him in action.

Cowboy’s face lit up. “You wanna see me ride?” I nodded. “Then count me the fuck in.” He stretched his arms and cricked his head. “It’ll be good to get a hard workout.”

Cowboy sat on the fence of the training ring while I practiced hurtling around the barrels. The sun burned hot on my neck as the hours passed, as I pushed Sandy, cutting in and out of the barrels, galloping to the finish line. “Seventeen seconds,” Cowboy shouted as we crossed the line for the hundredth time. I pulled Sandy to a halt. Not the best times I’d ever had, but it was enough for today.

I walked Sandy past Cowboy. His arms were bare, his thin plaid shirt torn off at the sleeves. “Ready to sweat?”

Cowboy lifted his Stetson, combed through his hair with his fingers, and asked, “Are we talking about saddle-broncing Pepper here? Because I really fucking hope we’re talking about something different.”

I rolled my eyes. “Do you ever think of anything else?”

“Around you?” He smiled. A real fucking wide smile. “Not a damn chance.”

“I’ll meet you at the chute.” I handed Sandy to Clara, who gave me a knowing wink. Shaking my head, I led Pepper out of the stall. Cowboy was waiting for me. I brought Pepper to a halt and nodded to the shed. “Chaps and bronc reins in there.” Cowboy went inside. When he came back out, he was wearing the black leather chaps and a denim shirt that covered his arms and chest, and he held the bronc rein in his hands.

“Give him here.” Cowboy took hold of Pepper, checked his saddle and attached the bronc rein to the halter.

“Give him about three and a half fingers,” I said, referring to how much rein Pepper worked best with.

Cowboy smiled. “Was going to anyway, cher. Told you, I’m fucking good at this.”

I turned my head to the other side of the ring and saw Hush had pulled up on my poppa’s bike. He was leaning over the handlebars, watching his best friend like a hawk. I lost my breath when he met my eyes for a second. It was only for a second, and then he quickly focused on Cowboy again.

Clara and I led Pepper inside the chute, and Cowboy slid onto the horse. Clara ran to the chute gate and waited for my command. Pepper’s nostrils flared, his hooves padding in excitement on the dirt. Cowboy tightened his one-handed grip on the rein and positioned his feet.

“You sure you’re up for this?” I sought reassurance, having a momentary doubt. I knew Aubin Breaux could ride. Hell, he was the best around as a teen, but I wasn’t sure if “Cowboy” from the Hangmen still had what it took to stay on this stallion. And Pepper was a champion horse in the making.

“Open the damn gate, cher,” Cowboy shouted, as he threw me a typical laid-back wink and grin.

I looked at Clara. “You heard the man.”

Clara threw the gate open, and Pepper launched into action. The bronc kicked like a motherfucker, and my heart seemed to stop in my chest. I’d fucked up. I straddled the fence, ready to run for Pepper if he threw Cowboy. But my eyes widened and a smile spread on my lips as Cowboy threw a hand in the air and rode the stallion like he’d never stopped competing.

Clara nudged me, and her eyebrows shot up in surprise. “He’s damn good, girl!”

After staying on far longer than the eight seconds that was needed, Cowboy kicked his leg off the saddle and jumped to the ground, running clear of the stallion. Pepper took off, circling the ring, eventually calming down and coming to a stop. Clara crossed the ring to get him.

I jumped from the fence and ran at Cowboy, who was strutting back, arms wide and a cocky smirk on his beautiful face. I didn’t even think through my next action. One minute I was running across the dirt, adrenaline from Cowboy’s ride surging through my veins. The next I was launching into his arms. “That was amazing!” I felt Cowboy’s arms wrap around my waist . . . and I quickly became hyper-aware of the fact that he was holding me.

He must have felt me tense; he slowly lowered me to the ground. I dropped my arms, but he refused to let go.

“Fuck, cher,” he said, voice husky as he spoke directly into my ear. “If I’d known this was how to get you in my fucking arms, I’d have ridden for you the minute I arrived.”

Laughing nervously, shocked at the lack of unease I felt in his embrace, I tilted my head back to find his blue eyes locked on me. “That was pretty fucking incredible, Cowboy,” I said and ran my hands down to his wide chest. I watched as my palms flattened on his hard pecs. I couldn’t take my eyes off my hands. I was touching him . . . I was touching him. It had been so damn long. I wasn’t sure I’d ever be able to touch another man like this after Juan, after what I found out . . . after what he did . . .

Cowboy growled low, causing me to look up, pulling me from my spiraling dark thoughts. “You feel fucking good wrapped around me, cher,” he whispered. I immediately dropped my hands.

“Can you go again?” I tried to calm the hell down. Confused didn’t even cover it right now. I hadn’t thought about men in a romantic way for years. The quickening of my pulse and the racing of my heart told me that had all changed.

It was Cowboy. His smiles. His kind heart.

And it was Hush. The mysterious closed-off man that I yearned to unlock.

“Always,” he said, and I stepped back from him. Cowboy let me go. Just as I was about to turn toward the chute, I glanced over my shoulder and found a set of ice-blue eyes staring back at me. I held Hush’s gaze, trying to decipher what the hell that fierce look meant. But a hand slipped into mine, causing me to break away.

“Let’s go,” Cowboy said, following the path of my attention. Hush looked at Cowboy, some unspoken conversation happening between them before my very eyes. Cowboy broke the connection first and led me back to the chute. “I wanna go again.” When I glanced back, I expected Hush to be gone. But he remained, watching.

My heart beat just that little bit faster.

 

*****

 

“Cowboy!”

Cowboy’s name rang out like a wailing siren from my mouth. My eyes widened in horror as I laid eyes on his hand. Pepper was bucking hard. Cowboy was trying to dismount. But his hand was caught. “He’s hung up!” I jumped from the fence. I sprinted to the other side of the ring, watching as Cowboy’s body was flung around as he tried to break free from the horse. He became unseated, his legs dropping to the ground. His feet scraped along the dirt, trying to keep up with the erratically bucking horse. But his hand was still attached to the bronc rein. Cowboy struggled, head tipped back toward the saddle, trying to work his way free. I flinched as Pepper’s legs flicked and kicked, almost catching Cowboy, as the horse spun in ever-decreasing circles.

“Around the other side!” I ordered Clara. Clara did as asked, rocking back and forth on her feet to try and catch hold of Pepper with the loose rein she held. She lunged forward, wrapped the rein around his neck, controlled his head, and managed to bring him to a stop. But Pepper’s hooves still padded frantically on the dirt.

“Cowboy,” I called, and moved to his trapped hand. The skin of his wrist was torn up and red from the rein. The minute I started tugging on the rein, Pepper began to shy. “Cher. Get back,” Cowboy shouted through gritted teeth.

I shook my head, refusing to move, and suddenly Hush was beside me. He yanked a knife from his belt and began sawing at the rein. I staggered back, letting out a deep exhale when the rein loosened enough for Hush to drag Cowboy out of the way. Pepper spooked at all the commotion, and Clara stepped away. He took off around the arena, bucking and kicking—doing exactly what he’d been trained to do. I watched him go, blood draining from my face when I realized that Cowboy could have been even more seriously hurt.

Hush was holding Cowboy up against the fence. I rushed over, seeing Clara was approaching Pepper to calm him down. As I drew near Hush and Cowboy, I could only make out a rapid French conversation pouring from their mouths. Cowboy was holding his arm, his shoulder dipped as if he could barely stand to straighten it.

“Cowboy!” I ran to his side.

He cracked a strained smile. “It’s . . . nothing, cher.” He wasn’t exactly convincing. His hoarse voice clearly showed me that he was racked with pain.

“It’s not nothing.” I opened the gate for him to get out. I helped Hush take him through to the yard and sit him on a nearby bench.

“What the fuck were you thinking?” Hush snapped at Cowboy. Cowboy rolled his eyes at his best friend. “You ain’t done this in years, Aub. This ain’t your fucking life anymore!” The panic in Hush’s voice made my heart squeeze. The raw terror pulsing from him at the fact that his best friend was injured. Could have been hurt worse.

“I can fucking ride, Val. I’ve been doing it all damn day. I’ve been doing it since I was barely outta diapers.”

Hush nodded at his shoulder. “Doesn’t fucking look like it—”

“I was hung up!”

“He was hung up!”

Cowboy and I spoke at the same time. Even in pain, Cowboy threw me a wink, but it was quickly followed by a wince.

“I have no idea what the fuck that means. But it doesn’t matter,” Hush said. Cowboy closed his eyes and took a deep breath. I grimaced as his face grew red. “You need a doctor?” Hush ran his hand over his shaved head. He was agitated. More so than he should be. Hush was practically falling apart at Cowboy being hurt.

“Val,” Cowboy said slowly. “I’m okay.” Cowboy sent me a quick cautious glance, before he leaned in closer, getting Hush’s attention. “Calm down. I’m fine.” Hush took a long deep breath.

I was wondering what the hell was happening between them when Cowboy distracted me by saying, “Help me back to the house, Val.”

“Wait!” I said. “I’ll go get my truck.”

I took off at a jog, passing Clara and giving her a thumbs-up to make sure she had everything under control. She nodded and led Pepper into a stall in the barn. In less than five minutes, I was in my truck and heading back to Cowboy and Hush. Hush sat beside Cowboy, Cowboy’s hand on Hush’s thigh. Hush’s head was lowered, but I could see his eyes were closed. He looked like he was counting; his lips moved slightly as he said something to himself.

Hush’s head snapped up as I got out of the truck. “You got my chariot, cher?” Cowboy asked.

“Sure have, darlin’.” I moved to where he still sat, slouched on the bench. I looked at Hush. “You okay? You don’t look so good.”

“Bon,” he replied and stood to face Cowboy. “Allons.” Hush helped Cowboy to his feet. I moved to his other side. Cowboy managed to put his good arm over my shoulder, and he playfully said through a clenched jaw, “Anything to get you to touch me again, cher.”

I rolled my eyes. “You don’t have to get injured for that, cher,” I teased.

Cowboy smiled. “Good . . . to . . . know.”

Hush’s brow was furrowed. His attention was on the truck. But I knew his frown was a reaction to me and Cowboy. I couldn’t understand why, if what Cowboy had told me was right. If they shared women, then what the hell was so wrong with me?

I was starting to believe that Cowboy was full of shit. That Hush wasn’t just keeping me at arm’s length because he liked me. But that, in fact, he really didn’t.

Which was like a damn hammer blow to the heart.

Hush helped Cowboy into the truck. I thought he would ride back on Poppa’s old Harley, but Hush got in the cab too. As I pulled out of the yard toward my house, Cowboy put a hand on my thigh. When I looked toward him, I saw he had done the same to Hush too. “Well . . .” he managed to push out through his pain. “This is . . . cozy.”

Hush pushed Cowboy’s hand from his thigh. “Not the fuck now, Aub.”

Cowboy turned to me and smiled, not even bothered by Hush’s pissy comment. My chest warmed. I’d never known anyone like Cowboy. Never known anyone so free spirited. Someone who just seemed to want to make everyone happy.

And I’d never known anyone so closed off as Hush. At least to anyone but Cowboy. In fact, with Cowboy, he seemed weirdly dependent.

I stopped at my house. Hush opened the passenger door and helped Cowboy out. Cowboy staggered up the steps. I smoothed my hand over my cell in my pocket, almost calling Ky to send a doctor. But then I didn’t want Ky to know about Cowboy riding Pepper. I didn’t want to give him any excuse to pull Hush and Cowboy from my ranch and replace them with someone else. My heart rolled at the thought of them leaving. It had only been a couple of weeks, but I had gotten used to them being around. Cowboy with his easy flirtations and suggestive winks. And even Hush with his silence and permanent scowl.

They made me feel safe.

To me, that was worth its weight in gold.

Deciding to forget the call, I strode up the steps and entered my house. Cowboy was already lying on the couch. Hush was helping him out of his chaps and denim shirt, leaving him in his jeans and white wife-beater. I gasped on seeing the bruises already beginning to sprout on his arm and shoulder. His wrist was raw from the rope burns. “Cowboy,” I whispered, my eyes watering. “I shouldn’t have let you ride Pepper. I . . . I wasn’t thinking . . .”

“I wanted to, cher.” He grinned, only wincing when Hush placed a bag of ice on his arm. “Gotta be honest, it felt good to ride again.”

Hush made a low sound in his throat. Turning away, he announced, “I’m gonna go get the bike.” Hush left the house, and I couldn’t help it, but I sighed. I was sick and tired of his constant cold shoulder. I had done everything in my power to be nice to him. To talk to him. But he wanted nothing to do with me.

A fact I had to accept . . . even though the thought of it sent a slice of pain spearing through my heart. As if Cowboy could read my thoughts, he said, “He’s just quiet, cher. I promise. It’s nothing more.” He pointed to his arm. “And probably pissed that I’ve done this to myself.” He shrugged. “Been years since I’ve been on a bronc.”

I went to the kitchen and grabbed a couple of pain pills and a glass of water. I handed them to Cowboy. He knocked them back, but then frowned at the water. “You got something stronger than water, cher?” I took a bottle of bourbon and a glass from my cupboard. “Just bring the bottle, darlin’,” he said, shooting me a wide grin.

I laughed. “That grin gets all the ladies to do your bidding, huh?”

He tipped his head to the side. “Don’t know. Is it gonna get you to blow off whatever you had planned tonight and play nurse with me here on this couch?”

“I hadn’t had anything planned, as you well know.” I sighed, shaking my head when he patted the couch beside him.

“Well then, you’ve got no excuse.” I sat down and watched him take a swig of the bourbon. He handed the bottle to me. “Get drunk with me, Sia.”

I took the bottle from him, startled when he shifted and lay flat on the couch, putting his head on my lap. I stared at him, shocked, breathing deeply. There was a man sprawled across my thighs. I closed my eyes, trying to fight back the memory of the last person who had done this to me.

As if he could see the war inside my head, Cowboy asked, “You want me to move, cher?”

My eyes sprang open. My heart friggin’ melted at the sincere look in his eyes and the fact that he had understood I found it hard.

That he had given me a choice.

“No,” I whispered. Cowboy looked up at me. I gave him a shaky smile and moved his Stetson off his head. I placed the hat on the floor and lowered my nervous hand to his forehead. Cowboy closed his eyes and sighed.

“That feels real fucking good, cher.”

My hand faltered when I heard the echo of another voice in my mind. “That feels so good, mi rosa . . .”

My breathing sped up, too lost in the memory of the past. But I was guided from the nightmare when calloused fingers wrapped around mine and squeezed. “You’re safe, cher,” Cowboy’s soft, beautifully accented voice soothed.

I looked down at the man lying next to me. It was a small matter. Just a tiny fucking thing, really, but I never thought I would get to this point. After all that happened in Mexico, I never thought I’d ever be like this with another man.

Something as simple as a head on my lap felt like the biggest leap I’d ever made.

Feeling brave, I took my free hand and brought it to Cowboy’s hair. “You got hair to die for, darlin’. You know that?”

Cowboy grinned. “It’s what all the bitches tell me.” His face adopted a serious expression. “I’m thinking of becoming a shampoo-commercial model.” He blinked, looking anything but the innocent man he was trying to play. “Think I have what it takes?” I lightly pulled on his hair and shrugged. “Damn, cher.” He waggled his eyebrows. “Keep doing that and I’ll forget my injured wrist and let you pull on something else.”

“Shut up,” I said, pretending to be annoyed. I pushed his head, but the stubborn asshole just placed it back in my lap. I couldn’t help but laugh, the humor breaking the heavy weight my memories had briefly placed on me.

Cowboy’s eyes closed as I raked the blond strands with my fingers. We stayed like that for ages, me still smiling like a fool, until Hush walked in the door. He froze, his eyes zeroing in on us.

My hand stilled, and Cowboy opened his eyes. “I was enjoying that, cher. Don’t stop.” He closed his eyes again, but my eyes remained locked on Hush’s. His cheeks flushed, and I saw his hands tighten into fists at his side.

I released my hand from Cowboy’s hair to move the ice bag back into place. All the time Hush held my stare, like he couldn’t look away from the sight of his best friend and me on the couch. But I didn’t see hatred or jealousy on his face. No, in fact, I saw what looked like longing . . . and my fucking heart tore. Hush stood rooted to the spot. He stared. I stared. And for the first time since he’d come to stay at my ranch, I didn’t see indifference or coldness when he looked at me. But warmth. Such blazing heat that I felt as though I were sitting beside a burning fire.

Heat for me . . . That fire was for me.

“Come sit down,” I found myself whispering, barely breaking the silence that had blanketed the room. Cowboy’s breathing had evened out. I thought he had fallen asleep, but when he moved his legs, creating a space for his best friend, I knew he could hear every word.

My usual response to things was to smile. Crack a joke. Be a smart-ass. But there was just something about Hush that made all of that fall away. The deep dark part of me that I suppressed, every second of every day, reacted to Hush’s presence. Like he was trying to escape the same kind of darkness that lived in me too.

My jokes and sass didn’t belong around Hush.

He somehow made me . . . vulnerable. Something I wasn’t used to fucking being with anyone.

Hush’s eyes fell to the space on the couch. I had no idea what was going on in his mind, but I saw the moment he decided to walk away from us. The ice-cold frost that was a permanent fixture in his eyes was back. “I’ll make us something to eat,” he mumbled and moved toward the kitchen.

Acting on instinct, I took hold of his fingers with my own as he passed. Hush stopped dead and squeezed his eyes shut. His chest rose and fell, his breathing slow. His fingers were so damn cold.

I wanted to warm them. I wanted him to open his eyes and smile.

I realized I just wanted him . . . period.

“I’ll help you cook,” I offered, my voice shaking. I prayed he wouldn’t reject me again.

My breathing hitched when Hush’s finger moved and ghosted over mine. I didn’t dare look away from his face, just in case he wanted to look at me. Do anything other than scowl at me. But he kept his stare forward, eventually slipping his hand from mine. My hand felt empty. Cold.

“You stay with him. He needs you right now.” Hush’s voice was strained. He moved to the kitchen.

His departure left a sudden chill in the air.

I grabbed the bottle of bourbon and took a sip, feeling the liquor travel down my throat. I rarely drank, but right now I needed it. Closing my eyes, I laid my head back and continued running my hand through Cowboy’s hair. I drifted off to the sound of Hush cooking in the kitchen . . .

When I opened my eyes, the fire had been lit and Hush was standing before me holding a bowl. Cowboy was sitting up beside me, already eating. Hush moved across the room—as far away as he could get from us—and took his place by the fire.

“I fell asleep?”

Cowboy nodded. “Don’t worry, cher. You still looked fucking beautiful even when you were snoring.”

I rolled my eyes when he smiled with a mouth full of food. “Firstly, fuck off. And secondly, how’s your arm?”

“Still here.”

I looked across at Hush. He was silent, staring intently into the flames. They were as untouchable as he was.

Cowboy, for once, wasn’t smiling as he followed my gaze. In that moment, as he looked to Hush, he too appeared . . . broken. Just as Hush did as he grew more and more lost in the flames dancing in the hearth.

I had no idea what the hell was going on.

“Cowboy?” I reached out to touch his arm. Cowboy broke from whatever had filled his mind. He gave me a small smile. But then he looked back at Hush and sighed. I could hear the devastation in that one simple breath.

Without even knowing what haunted them both right then, I felt truly sad.

Hush curled in on himself, toward the fire. I tried to work out the enigma that was this man. “He doesn’t say much, does he?”

“It’s why people think he’s called Hush.”

I turned to Cowboy, intrigued. “It’s not?”

He sighed deeply . . . sadly, and then glanced at his best friend. “It’s not even close.”

I let this new piece of information hang in the air. When only the sound of the crackling fire could be heard, I took a spoonful of the food Hush had cooked. I closed my eyes when the flavors hit my tongue. “Hush.” I looked down. Gumbo. “This is delicious.”

Hush looked over at me but said nothing. He stared at his feet, and then abruptly stood from the chair. “I’m gonna go to bed.” I watched him go to the hallway that led to the stairs, as did Cowboy.

“He can cook,” I said, smiling at that little discovery about the perpetually closed-off man.

“His daddy taught him that recipe,” Cowboy said absently, eyes still on the empty hallway.

“He back in Louisiana?”

Cowboy tensed. “He ain’t with us anymore, cher.”

The smile slipped from my face. I didn’t dare ask anything else. The devastating expression on Cowboy’s face told me not to. Cowboy reached across me to take the bourbon. He downed several gulps before handing it back to me. I did the same.

“Careful, cher. You’ll get drunk.”

I ran my hand down my face, sighing. “I’m thinking that might not be such a bad thing tonight.”

“Then give the bottle the fuck this way, and I’ll join you on your journey to Trashedsville.”

An hour ticked by, and a second bottle of bourbon was opened. The room had started to tilt slightly. “I’m feeling tipsy,” I said, a high-pitched giggle slipping from my throat. I slammed my hand over my mouth, eyes wide. “What the hell was that fucking cheesy-ass sound that just slipped from my mouth?” I groaned. “Shoot me if it ever falls from my lips again.”

Cowboy leaned close. “You can’t help it, cher. It’s my exuberant presence. Makes all the bitches in a fifty-yard radius turn into giggling schoolgirls.”

I rolled my eyes, but then stared at Cowboy’s profile. Unable to control my words, I stated, “You’re real fucking handsome. I’ll give you that.”

He smiled, showing me his white teeth. “Merci, cher. From you, that’s a real fucking compliment.” His tongue wrapped around the French words, and I closed my eyes, replaying them like a lullaby in my head.

“Merci, cher,” I imitated, opening my eyes when his hand ran up my leg.

“You mocking my accent?” Cowboy thickened his accent, the everyday exotic words falling off his tongue like melted butter.

“Never!” I said jokingly. “But seriously, I do love how you sound. How you both sound . . . it’s beautiful.”

“Yeah?” He leaned in closer, his arm now able to hold more of his weight than a few hours before. I shifted, heat traveling faster up my legs and onward to my stomach the closer he came. I quickly fucking sobered up.

“Yeah.”

I held my breath as Cowboy crawled toward me only to snag the bottle from beside me. I blew out a shuddering exhale. Cowboy’s muscled arms flexed as he lifted the bottle to his full lips. When he pulled the bottle away, his tongue darted out and licked a drop of bourbon that was falling.

“Tell me,” I heard myself saying. Cowboy looked at me. Swallowing, I ignored the heat in my cheeks and said, “How does it work?” Cowboy looked puzzled. I shifted in my seat. “With you and Hush . . . and the women. How do you . . . do it?” I felt my face blaze, but I held my ground. I wanted to know. Since the day he told me of the way they had sex, I could barely think of anything else.

Cowboy’s pupils dilated. The question hung in the air between us. He took another sip of bourbon, and then turned his body toward me. His fingers landed on my foot, stroking the skin. “You wanna know, cher?” he asked, his voice husky from the bourbon.

“Yes,” I whispered back, my thighs clenching together as his light touch on my skin sent shivers up my spine.

“First, we take her back to a room,” he said. My chest flushed, and I knew it wasn’t from the fire. His rich accent gave life to the everyday words. Cowboy traced his finger over the bottom of my jeans and up my shin. “One of us leads her toward the bed.” He circled his finger around my calf. “The other trails behind.” My gaze was fixed on his mouth as I imagined the scene in my head. “Slowly, we strip her of her clothes. One item at a time, our mouths beginning to kiss every inch of the newly bared flesh.” I shifted where I sat as his finger reached my knee. Cowboy licked his lips. “Her tits are freed, and we each take a nipple in our mouths, making her moan.” My eyes widened. “We devour her body, until one of us moves between her legs.” He shrugged. “Then . . .” His hand crept higher still until it was on my thigh. I squeezed my legs together and fought the moan that was threatening to spill from my mouth at the image. Because I didn’t see some random club slut in my head.

I saw me.

I saw Cowboy.

I saw Hush.

I swallowed, trying to wet my dry throat. “Then what?”

Cowboy’s mouth moved to my ear. “The rest, cher, I’ll keep to myself.”

I exhaled a frustrated breath and playfully slapped him on the arm. “You’re no fun!” Cowboy threw me another fucking wink. When I had completely calmed down, I asked, “So? How many have you been with?”

Cowboy tore his eyes away from watching his finger trace patterns on my thigh. “Haven’t kept track.”

I didn’t know why, but my stomach sank at that. I didn’t know if he sensed my disappointment, but he placed his finger under my chin and guided my head up. He stayed still until I lifted my eyes and met his. “But not one of those sluts mattered to us.” I blinked, then tried to stop my heart from bursting apart as he added, “I’ve been looking for one who does for a real fucking long time.”

“Y-you have?” I whispered, feeling dizzy. The alcohol was clearly fucking with my head again. Cowboy lifted onto his hands and crawled forward until he was half above me on the couch.

“Oui.”

“And Hush?”

Cowboy’s eyes narrowed in thought. “I’m gonna tell you something about Hush, cher. The brother don’t think much of himself.” I felt an immediate ache of sadness, Hush’s handsome face appearing in my mind. Cowboy looked back toward the dying fire. “He feels he should be alone. Only ever relies on me. That’s because I was there when . . .” Cowboy’s words trailed off to nothing. “He’s lonely, cher. We’re both lonely.”

“Cowboy,” I murmured, all humor forgotten, and laid my hand on his cheek. He turned into my palm.

“Valan . . . Hush . . . has more fucking layers than I can explain to you. Shit from his past often fucks with his head. Makes him think he’s worth nothing. That people shouldn’t want to be around him.” He laughed, but the sound was fucking free of any humor. “That he shouldn’t be loved. That we’d be better off as just us. The way it’s been for years. Because then he can keep what bothers him locked away, without ever having to open up his fucking caged heart again.”

A lump blocked my throat. I wanted to know what had made Hush this way. What had happened that made him live alone rather than look for or accept the love of another. But then, I knew I was a hypocrite. Because apart from Styx and Ky, no one knew about me. About my past. I had pushed everyone away, blaming the club for all the shit I’d gone through. But in reality, it was me. I shut everyone out. Kept what had happened in Mexico within me and shared it with no one else. Not even Ky and Styx knew the full extent of it.

My lower back and the tops of my thighs burned. Another secret I had kept to myself. Ky would never cope with that truth . . . why I had never, and was sure I could never bare myself to a man again.

I wasn’t even sure I could do this with Cowboy.

“Cher?” Cowboy asked, concern on his face.

I stared into his blue eyes, so open and truthful. “I . . .” I glanced away into the dying fire. “I’ve only ever been with him,” I whispered, hearing the crack in my voice just as a piece of wood snapped in the fire.

Cowboy turned to stone above me. I didn’t dare meet his eyes. But now that I’d opened my mouth and begun releasing the truth, I couldn’t stop. “He . . . After I came back from Mexico . . . I’ve never trusted anyone else. I . . .” I inhaled a breath. “I haven’t let anyone get close.” I counted to three, and then lifted my eyes to his. “Until you . . . and Hush . . . if he would just let me.”

“Cher,” he whispered, saying more in that one word than a million could say. He lifted his hand and slowly brought it to my face. He ran the back of his fingers down my cheek. “He hurt you . . .” Cowboy wasn’t asking a question. I knew Ky had told them some of my story. I just wasn’t sure how much.

A tear escaped down my cheek and I squeezed my eyes shut. Cowboy closed in, and I sucked in a breath when I felt him kiss away the damn drop. Cowboy lingered, his lips brushing against the skin on my cheek.

“You’re both so fucking broken,” he whispered. The tears I’d been fighting started to fall. Cowboy pressed his forehead against mine. He palmed my cheeks and brushed the droplets away with his thumbs. “From the minute we met you, I could see in you what I see in him every day . . . loneliness.” My chest tightened at his words. Because they were real . . . they spoke the truth. “Two people who are lost, two people who don’t know how the fuck to escape the darkness they’re living in.”

“Cowboy,” I said hoarsely and felt my chest start to rack with sobs. Ignoring his injury, Cowboy pulled me into his arms. I fell against him and wrapped my arms around his neck.

I cried.

I cried, allowing the pain I’d kept so deeply hidden to break through. Cowboy hushed me and stroked my back. My eyes grew sore from the tears, but I just clung on. Cowboy was offering me something I’d never accepted since I came back: a place to feel safe. A place of no judgment, where I could just fucking cry without explaining what happened there, why I ran, what I found out, who I lost.

I looked at the clock above the fire and saw that an hour had passed. Cowboy continued stroking my back. I blinked, my eyes dry and gritty from the tears. “Better?” he asked softly.

I ducked my eyes, letting out a single sharp laugh. “Sorry.”

He lifted my chin with his finger until I met his eyes. “Never, cher. Never fucking apologize.” Sadness flashed across his handsome face. “I know you’ve had it rough. I would never guess at how badly that cunt hurt you.” He threaded his hand through mine. I couldn’t tear my gaze away from how perfect they looked joined together. “But we would never do that to you.”

Cowboy looked right into my eyes. I didn’t know what he was looking for—maybe permission—but whatever it was, he must have found it, because he leaned forward, slipped his hand on my cheek, and kissed me. Fear stabbed at my chest as Cowboy’s lips stayed on mine. The darkness I lived with tried to force itself into my mind, between our mouths. But for once, for the first fucking time in all the years I had let it control me, I pushed it away and opened my lips.

Cowboy groaned and gently slipped his tongue inside my mouth. I shakily placed my hand on his cheek, feeling the stubble beneath my palm. His breath was warm against my face, his lips were soft, and his tongue danced with mine. I let him take control. I closed my eyes and just let myself feel . . .

I moaned, Cowboy catching the sound with his mouth. And he kissed me. He kissed me and kissed me, wiping away the stain that had been left on this part of me a long time ago. I felt the cords of Mexico, of him, begin to break. Not fully, but enough to make it easier for me to fucking breathe. To move, without feeling the ever-present pull of Juan drawing me back to his side. The scars he had left on me calmed, their burning marks cooling under Cowboy’s hands.

When he broke away, I kept my eyes closed, happily sitting with the tingling feel of his sweet taste on my lips. “Now that,” I said and smiled, eyes still shut, “was worth the hype.”

“Sleep, cher,” he whispered, chuckling softly at my words. He laid me down on the couch. I let him guide me to the soft cushions. I didn’t open my eyes, but I felt him lie beside me. He stroked the hair from my face. “We’ll look after you now.”

He curled me against him, my back to his chest, and wrapped his arm around me. I sighed in contentment, more comfortable than I’d felt in such a long time. The room was still warm from the heat of the fire, the smoky burning-log scent filling the air. Cowboy’s sleepy breaths played on the back of my neck.

I was almost asleep when I felt someone in front of me. I went to open my eyes, but a soft voice shushed me back down. A finger ran over my cheek, back and forth, in a hypnotizing motion. Then, warm breath fluttered over my cheek, and a soft mouth pressed a single kiss to my lips. My breath held, my body still, as the mouth moved to my ear and gently whispered, “Sleep, cher. Sleep.”

I opened my eyes to see a tattooed back retreating toward the hallway. Tattoos decorating rich, beautiful brown skin . . .

Hush, I thought, my heavy eyes forcing me under with the pull of sleep. Hush. I sighed . . . and drifted off with a smile on my lips and a new sense of hope in my heart.