King of Mustang
Two hours later . . .
GRAY WAS WEARING NOTHING BUT jeans. He was lying on his back in his bed, four pillows cushioning his head, shoulders against the headboard. He had a plate on his stomach that had a jumble of crackers, slices of cheese, a cut up apple and a handful of store-bought cookies. On his nightstand were two freshly opened bottles of beer.
Lunch.
I was wearing my panties and his dress shirt, four buttons done up. I was lying on my side at his side, one of my legs thrown over one of his, my head in my hand, my elbow in the bed.
I had lazed in Gray’s huge, awesome bed while he did the taxing work of walking downstairs, cutting some slices of cheese and apple, dumping out some crackers and cookies and grabbing a couple of cold ones then walking it back up.
So he was right in what he told Grandma Miriam. He could feed himself and his girl.
After we had sex, we cuddled, we whispered then we fooled around some more. But Gray didn’t take it all the way.
“Coupla days, honey, don’t wanna hurt you again,” he murmured against my neck, his hands sliding soothingly along the skin of my back.
I didn’t want to wait a couple of days. Sex was fantastic. Or maybe just sex with Gray was fantastic.
Then again, I’d bled a little (which was semi-embarrassing and only stopped being that when Gray didn’t make a big deal of it) and it had to be said, I ached and I did it in a way that didn’t invite further attention to that area.
So we’d wait a couple of days.
I could wait a couple of days for Gray.
For Gray, I’d wait an eternity.
I reached to his belly, put a slice of cheese on a cracker and shoved the whole thing in my mouth.
I saw the plate tremble on his stomach, my head tipped back and my eyes (enjoying their journey) drifted up to him to see he was smiling but his eyes and the rest of his body were laughing.
“What?” I asked through a full mouth.
“Jesus, dollface, there’s more downstairs. You don’t have to stuff your face.”
I chewed, swallowed and told him, “I don’t want to get crumbs in your bed.
“I don’t care,” he told me.
“No one wants to sleep in crumbs,” I informed him.
“I’ll brush them out,” he informed me.
I scrunched my face. “Euw. No. In this room, they’ll never be swept up. You’ll be walking all over them, they’ll get in your socks and then you’ll get ants in the summer.”
He was still smiling but his head tilted to the side and he asked, “First, euw?”
“Yeah, euw.”
“No one says euw.”
“I just said it.”
He kept smiling at me when he replied, “I stand corrected. But I will point out that only a woman with a beautiful face and more hair, all of it gorgeous, than is fair to the rest of the female population on top of a fantastic body, who says my name breathy when she gets hot or she’s in the mood to be sweet, which is often, and sounds even hotter when she comes then gets an unbelievably sexy look in her eyes when she comes down can say euw.”
I stared at him actually feeling my heart swell.
Then I pulled myself together and noted, “That’s a lot of conditions.”
His eyes held mine and his reply was quiet. “I know.”
Oh my.
To hide the blush I felt creeping up at his compliment, I dipped my chin and reached out to grab a slice of apple.
“Second,” he started and my attention went back to him. “The crumbs won’t get lost forever. Macy comes every other week to clean the house and do the laundry.”
I tipped my head deeper into my hand. “Macy?”
“My Uncle Olly’s third wife.”
There were only five words there but a lot to go over.
“Uncle Olly?” I prompted.
“Yeah, Uncle Olly. Oliver. Dad was the oldest. Oliver after him. Frank after him and then Charles. They’re all named after famous cowboys.”
Cool.
“Really?” I asked.
“Yeah, Dad’s name is Abel after Abel Pierce. Olly after Oliver Loving. Frank after Frank Eaton and Charlie after Charles Goodnight. Their last names are my dad and uncles’ middle ones.”
That was still cool even though I had no idea who all those people were.
“I don’t know any of those people,” I confessed.
“Not a lot of people do. Gotta be a cowboy to know cowboys and my granddad was a definite cowboy.”
That was cool too.
“Are you?”
“Got a bit in me but it isn’t the same, not like he tells it, not like he said his daddy told it. Those days are long gone.”
Alas, they were.
“So Olly’s been married three times?” I asked.
“Olly, three. Frank’s just got rid of his second and is workin’ on his third. Charlie’s still in his second but, the way things are going, I don’t see that lasting very long.”
“Wow,” I whispered, Gray grinned and I noted, “They’ve been through a lot of women.”
“Hard men to live with.”
“Sounds like it.”
“Lucky Macy’s got more piss and vinegar in her than most. Olly owns and runs the bar. Macy owns and runs Olly. Gran and her don’t get along but Macy don’t care. She still comes every two weeks, cleans the house, does the laundry, does the ironing, puts flowers all around because Macy likes flowers and that’s her way, and then she leaves.”
Well, that explained the flowers.
“She and your gran don’t get along?” I asked.
Gray shook his head. “Macy wants peace in the family. Gran can hold a grudge. Dad being firstborn son meant he inherited the land. Me being his only son meant I inherited it. When Dad died, her boys wanted their slice and didn’t mind letting that be known. They didn’t shut up about it, Gran lost her mind. They’d been marrying, divorcing, carousing and brawling for years, none of this she liked and all of it, dollface, they still do. So when Dad died and they made their play, got slapped back and wouldn’t let it go, she was done. She hasn’t seen any of them in years except when she can’t avoid them if she’s in town, and then she ignores them.”
This concerned me.
“Are they still wanting their slice?”
He shook his head again. “They gave up. None of ’em are bad seeds, they just got a lotta stupid in ’em. Woke up, paid attention, saw they had a nephew who lost his dad, a mom who lost her son at the same time she lost her legs and they lost their brother. They got their heads outta their asses. All of ’em, in their way, none of those ways good but still, they did it, extended an olive branch. It was too late. Gran was done.”
I felt my face get soft when I whispered, “That’s kind of sad.”
“Yeah,” he replied quietly. “It is. But Codys have owned this land for six generations, Ivey, and it’s always been that way. Tradition. Firstborn son to firstborn son. Over the years, the others lived on the land and worked it. My uncles never did. They turned eighteen, took off and wreaked havoc elsewhere. Gran wasn’t a big fan of that either. But for six generations, it’s been the same. Started as ranchers and horse breeders. Granddad sold off the livestock and put in the orchard.” He grinned again. “Looks better, smells better and a lot less hassle. But we’ve always had the horses. The town of Mustang is called Mustang because my great-great-grandfather refused to have the town named Cody after him but he captured, broke and bred mustangs so they named it that instead.”
I blinked in shock at learning this information. Then I stared.
Gray kept talking.
“So, seein’ as the Codys were the first to settle in these parts and the town grew up around them and their ranch, tradition is kind of important.”
“The town of Mustang is named Mustang because your family captured, tamed and bred mustangs?” I asked on a breath.
“Yep.”
“The town of Mustang is named Mustang because your family captured, tamed and bred Mustangs?” I repeated like he didn’t answer.
He smiled big and repeated his answer of, “Yep.”
“So, you’re like Mustang royalty.”
His smile got bigger and his beautiful body shook when he again repeated, “Yep.”
“Wow,” I whispered.
That smile grew wide and white and his body shook more as did his voice when he remarked, “You’re lyin’ in the king of Mustang’s bed, wearin’ his shirt after he took your virginity, dollface. Now, aren’t you lucky?”
I kept my eyes glued to his and I knew he was joking but my answer was deadly serious when I said, “Yep.”
He heard it and his smile faded. Then he grabbed the plate, reached across me, dumped it on the bed behind me and his arms were around me, hauling me up his body.
Then he was kissing me.
He tasted of apples and Gray.
It was delicious.
His hand went up his shirt then down in my panties and I had about three seconds of thinking how much I liked his hand in my panties before we heard a knock on the door.
My head came up and both of our gazes turned to the opened door of his bedroom.
Gray muttered an annoyed, “Fucking hell, I get a day with my girl in my house all alone and someone’s at the goddamned door.”
He didn’t move. Lying mostly on top of him, I didn’t either.
Another knock came, this one louder.
“Is your plan to ignore it?” I said low, like whoever was out there might hear me if I didn’t.
“If that’s possible,” Gray replied, not talking low.
We stayed locked together and silent, our eyes to his bedroom door.
Another knock came, even louder and the caller knocked for longer.
“Shit,” he clipped, rolled me to my back then let me go and rolled out of bed.
Guess it wasn’t possible to ignore it.
He tagged a random, dirty, long-sleeved tee from the floor and tugged it over his head.
He was still pulling it down his chest when his gaze came to me and he ordered, “Don’t move. I’ll be back.”
“I’ll be here.”
His gaze held mine then it moved down the length of me, heated and then my cheeks heated.
Another knock came at the door.
“Shit,” he bit out, turned on his foot and stalked out the door.
I pulled myself up, rearranged the pillows so they were behind my back and then bent down to grab the plate.
It was on my thighs and I was munching, still careful of the crumbs no matter what Gray said, when I heard it.
“I do not deal with you, motherfucker, I deal with my sister!”
My body locked.
Casey.
Why on earth was he shouting and what was he doing here?
And how did he even know where Gray lived?
I hadn’t seen him since he took off from the diner. Neither of us had cells, we couldn’t afford them. But he knew where I worked and told me he’d pop by. He didn’t and I got so busy with work, Gray and happily living a normal life, I had to admit, I didn’t really think about it.
In fact, truth be told (guilty truth), I was kind of enjoying the break.
Now he was here and shouting.
Then he shouted more.
“Stand aside, goddamn it, and let me see my sister!”
I put the plate on the bed, rolled out quickly and hustled on a jog-run out of the room, down the hall and halfway down the stairs.
It was only halfway because I saw Gray standing, blocking Casey at the front door. But Casey caught the movement on the stairs, his eyes came to me and the minute he saw me his face twisted in fury so ugly, I froze on a step.
“She’s wearin’ nothin’ but your shirt,” he said quietly, his eyes sliding to Gray.
Gray’s head turned and his eyes came to me.
“My sister is wearin’ nothin’ but your shirt,” Casey semi-repeated and Gray’s head started to turn back to Casey but not fast enough.
I sucked in breath then cried out, “Casey, no!” as Gray’s moment of inattention put him off-guard giving Casey the opportunity to get the drop on him, and he did. Casey dipped a shoulder and lunged. Catching Gray in his chest, he powered him back five steps.
That was all he got.
My breath clean left me as—swiftly, efficiently and with experience clearly borne of lots of practice—Gray’s body rolled away from Casey’s shoulder.
Casey went flying, righted himself quickly, turned, immediately stepped toward Gray and aimed a punch at him. Gray dodged it but came back swinging and caught Casey on the jaw with a vicious blow. While Casey was reeling, Gray moved in, now dropping his shoulder. He caught Casey in the belly and didn’t push him back. He lifted him up, turned on a bare foot and, with long, fast strides, he walked out the door.
I raced after them and hit the cold outside, dashing down the porch, watching Gray bounce Casey up and over at the end of the porch sending my brother flying to land on his behind, back and elbows into the cold snow beside Gray’s cleared front walk.
Oh God.
That had to hurt, not only his body but his pride.
I plastered my front to the side of Gray’s back and stared down at my brother, completely at a loss of what to do.
“Get inside, darlin’,” Gray ordered on a growl, and my head snapped back to look up at his profile, seeing his angry eyes locked on my brother, his entire face hard with fury.
“You fuckin’ slut!” Casey shouted. Gray’s already tense body went rock-solid and my eyes flew to my brother who was scrambling back on all fours, snow flying all around. He pushed up to his feet and kept shouting. “You fuckin’ whore!”
Gray’s fury escalated sharply, so much so it filled the cold air with crackling electricity. He came unlocked and started advancing but my arms quickly circled him and got tight so he stopped.
“Casey, don’t,” I whispered.
“I don’t believe this!” Casey was still yelling. “I don’t fuckin’ believe this shit!”
“Casey, don’t,” I begged.
“Take my eye off you for a week, a fuckin’ week, and you’re on your back for a fuckin’ cowboy!” Casey clipped.
“Gray means something to me. We’re seeing each other and he means something to me,” I returned, feeling Gray’s body tense again but my attention was focused on my brother.
“You don’t know shit. You don’t know what anything means,” Casey fired back and I started to get angry.
“How do you know what I know?” I asked sharply. “News flash, I’m not twelve anymore, Casey. I’m a grown woman and I know what I’m feeling, how deep it runs and what it means.”
“You’re so full of shit,” Casey retorted.
“Why? Why do you think that? Why, when you meet some woman, in a day you’re falling in love and expect me to believe in that and give you time to explore it? Why aren’t you prepared to believe in me when I’m feeling the same way and why won’t you give me the same?”
At that, Gray’s body again went rock-solid but I was still entirely focused on my brother.
So I kept talking.
“Why, instead, when I don’t see you for a week, are you here now, shouting at me and calling me ugly names? I didn’t do that to you.”
“It isn’t what you think it is, Ivey, it’s hormones rulin’ your head,” Casey returned.
Seriously?
My stupid brother!
“Is that what rules you every time you hook up with some woman somewhere? Are you stuck in your teenage years ruled by hormones?” I shot back. “Again, Casey, wake up. I’m not twelve. I’m not sixteen. I’m twenty-two. I’ve been around just like you. I’ve met my fair share of folks, just like you. I’ve been hit on enough to know when I actually want the attention. And I know what I’m feeling. I know when what I’m feeling means someone is growing to be something important to me. I’m not stupid. I’m not emotionally arrested at age thirteen. I know.”
Casey changed the subject, moving straight down his well-trodden path of emotional blackmail with, “I spent a lifetime lookin’ out for you.”
“Then first, you didn’t do a very good job, and second, good news for you, man, your job is done.”
That came from Gray in a deep, rumbling, angry voice and Casey’s eyes sliced to him.
“The fuck you say,” was Casey’s bizarre reply.
Gray must have thought it bizarre too because he didn’t reply.
“She’s my sister,” Casey told Gray something he already knew.
“Yeah, I know,” Gray returned. “I also know she’s movin’ on, that’s her choice and she’s takin’ it. You’re not down with that, I’ll see to it that you come around to Ivey’s way of thinkin’.”
Hells bells.
Casey’s eyes narrowed and then they moved to me.
“I see, sis. I’ve been replaced.”
“Then you don’t see because that’s not it at all. Or you do see and you’re just bein’ a dick,” Gray stated. Casey looked back at him but Gray wasn’t done. “Now, seein’ as you looked out for her awhile, you’ll also see she’s standin’ on a porch in thirty degree weather wearin’ a shirt so I know you’ll want her to get warm. So maybe you’ll share with us what you’re doin’ here so we can be done with that and I can get my girl back in my house.”
When Gray didn’t move, extend an arm to the front door or give any indication this conversation would happen anywhere but where we were currently standing, Casey snapped, “Right, so I see you’re happy to have my sister in your bed but you won’t invite her brother in your house.”
“No, I won’t,” Gray confirmed. “Woulda but you fucked that by makin’ your own way in and doin’ it with your shoulder in my chest. You cool down, get your head outta your ass and prove to me you’re not an asshole, you’ll get that invitation. Though, I’ll warn you, after the way you’ve acted and the shit that came outta your mouth directed at my girl, that’s gonna take a while. So today you’re not gonna feel my hospitality. Now we got that straight, what the fuck are you doin’ here?”
Casey’s eyes went shifty and I instantly knew what he was doing there.
“You wanna give me a second alone with my sister?” he requested, trying to force his voice to normal but the irate still came out.
“No,” Gray replied shortly and said no more.
Casey glared at him.
Gray didn’t move or say a word.
I opened my mouth to speak but Gray got there before me.
“Tomorrow, nine o’clock, I meet you at the diner. I’ll have five hundred dollars with me.” I sucked in breath and my body went still but Gray wasn’t done. “You’ll take it and be happy with that. You get no more. Not from me, never from Ivey.”
“Gray,” I murmured, giving his middle a squeeze. But he didn’t move, didn’t look down at me, didn’t tear his eyes from Casey.
Casey didn’t move either, just stood on Gray’s front walk, glaring up at him.
“Am I wrong?” Gray asked into the silence. “You’re here to hit Ivey up.”
Casey visibly clenched his teeth.
Yep. Just as I knew and Gray knew, Gray was right.
My brother.
Gray continued, “Five hundred dollars. Tomorrow at the diner. Nine o’clock. Then you’re done and you do whatever you gotta do but Ivey isn’t part of it. Get me?”
Casey didn’t move or speak.
“You get me,” Gray muttered then ordered, “In your car, man, off my land, and until I give the all-clear, you don’t come back. You do, the door doesn’t open. I pick up the phone and call the cops and I know you don’t want that. And you don’t know me so I’ll educate you, I do not make threats. You with me?”
Casey remained immobile and silent.
Gray waited.
I waited.
Then Gray was done waiting.
“Car, Casey,” he said softly and finished with, “now.”
Casey glared at him before he transferred it to me, turned and stomped to his car.
I watched, holding on to Gray, trembling and not with cold.
Gray watched too, shifting only to wrap an arm around my shoulders and pull me deeper into him.
Casey got in his car, reversed too fast and sped down Gray’s lane.
When we lost sight of him, Gray immediately turned us and walked me swiftly into his house, shutting and locking the door.
I pulled away, looked up at him and whispered, “I’ll give you the five hundred dollars tomorrow to give to Casey.”
I had it. Yes, tips were that good. But it would be a huge hit.
“You fallin’ in love with me?”
Gray asked that and when he did my thoughts about my tip money going to Casey went up in flames and so did my cheeks and most of my body.
“Sorry?” I was still whispering.
“Are you falling in love with me?” Gray asked.
I stared in his deep blue eyes with their russet-tipped lashes.
Then I said quietly, “Yes.”
Suddenly it was me that was over Gray’s shoulder and we were going up the stairs.
Fast.
“Gray!” I cried, my hands holding on to his waist but he said not a word and we were up the stairs, down the hall and in his room in no time flat.
Then I was flying through the air before I was flat on my back in Gray’s bed.
Then Gray was on top of me.
“Right,” he said, both his hands moving to frame my face, “I wanna be inside you. Jesus, God, I wanna be inside you. But I can’t have that, I can’t give you that, so I’m gonna give you my mouth then teach you how to give me yours. That good for you?”
Oh my.
“Yes,” I whispered.
“Good,” he whispered back.
Then he kissed me.
Then he gave me his mouth.
After that he taught me how to give him mine.
It was unbelievably awesome.
And we were so into it, neither of us noticed we got crackers, cheese, apple and store-bought cookies all over the bed.