Booted (Trails of Sin 3)

I click through her bookmarked links and open pages for furniture, bedding, wall art, and Native American decor.

She’s been thinking about this. Dreaming about furnishing this room. For me? Or for us?

A grin pulls at my lips. Perhaps this is a subtle attempt to nudge me, but honestly, the woman doesn’t have a subtle bone in her body.

Either way, she made the task a million times easier.

For the next twenty minutes, I purchase everything she bookmarked and other things she didn’t.

That done, I turn off the light and wrap my body around hers.

Then I sleep.

As always, the nightmares come, rousing us both with my choked gasps.

When I wake for the third time, it’s after a hauntingly sick dream of her and John in the ravine.

“Are you okay?” She peppers kisses along my jaw.

“Yeah.”

It wasn’t real. She’s right here with me.

“You want some tea?” She runs a hand through my sweat-damp hair.

“I want you.”

I crawl over her warm body, fit my hips against her, and sink into her heat in one long, exquisitely slow stroke.

By morning, I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve been inside her in the last twelve hours.

Maybe a man shouldn’t slack his needs in a woman every hour of every day, but I don’t give a fuck. I’ll never stop getting hard for her. Never stop finding solace in her body.

After breakfast, I lean against the fence railing that corrals a bullpen for horse training. Only the trainees today are Raina and Maybe.

With Raina on Captain and Maybe astride Jarret’s gelding, they listen to my animated sister explain the basics of horse riding.

This was my idea, a way to keep the girls occupied and in our sights while we discuss John Holsten.

Conor canceled her vet appointments for the day, but only after a heated argument with Jake and me at breakfast. We can’t keep her from her job, but we will until we have better security in place.

The horses trot at a controlled gait with Conor walking alongside them, gesturing as she talks. Maybe’s British White Park heifer scampers after them like a thousand-pound, ankle-biting dog and nudges Conor’s hand for a pet.

“Chicken…” Maybe leans down in the saddle and points a finger at the critter, smiling. “Stop distracting us with your cuteness.”

Raina shakes her head and laughs, her bronze complexion glowing in the sunlight. Her entire aura glows with happiness, and I like to think I had something to do with that.

As always, she wears my old jeans, this pair unaltered and bunching around her boots. Raven hair drapes over the graceful lines of her shoulders and swings against the small of her back.

Her fists slide over the reins, and the memory of what those hands can do sets my brain on fire.

She’s a vixen.

My vixen with fingers of sin.

“I know that look.” Jake rests his forearms next to mine on the fence.

Beside him, Jarret’s lips twitch, his gaze never straying from Maybe.

“You slept in your room last night.” Jake studies me from a foot away. “With Raina.”

“I also ordered furniture and other shit. I’m moving in.”

“’Bout fucking time.” He narrows his eyes. “But that’s not what’s putting that look on your face.”

“I’m watching a beautiful woman ride my horse, thinking I’d just like to ride her.”

“It goes deeper than that.”

He’s right. She’s a fathomless desire with bewitching brown eyes and pouty lips sucking on my soul.

“I love her.” Three words are painfully inadequate for what I feel.

“I saw that coming a mile away.” He watches the girls for a moment, and his lips form a flat line. “We need to talk about branding week.”

Our date of brand falls on the third week of every June. That’s next week.

We’ll be immersed in the longest days of the year as we gather as many hired hands as we can to administer shots, castrations, and branding. I used to oversee the annual operation. Hell, at eighteen, I supervised the entire ranch. I’m the oldest of the four of us, the big brother, and the one they once looked up to for guidance.

It’s time I step back into those boots.

“John knows when we brand.” I turn to Jake and Jarret and inch up my hat. “He knows we’ll be distracted and dog-tired the entire week. Raina and Maybe will be with us, but we won’t be able to watch them every second of the day. And Conor…”

“She won’t close the clinic for six days.” Jake shoots a concerned look at my sister.

Branding isn’t something we can cancel or delay. This is our livelihood. If our cattle aren’t vaccinated and tagged, we can’t sell them.

“I have some money,” I say. “Not a lot, but I’ll cover the cost of a security guard for the week. What I really want is to hire a man to track down John.”

Where is he staying? What is he planning? Should I try to set a trap to catch him? Or wait him out?