One Bride for Four Ranchers

Jessa hops off the table and straightens her clothing. Her gaze locks on someone behind me. Her skin is bright red, and she looks mortified. I’m just pissed.

I turn around to face my brother.

Clay glares at me. “The fuck you think you’re doing?”

“None of your business,” I say, violence raging inside of me at the interruption. I don’t think I’ve ever wanted to hit my brother as badly as I do right now.

Clay stalks forward, glare moving back and forth between me and Jessa. “The fuck this isn’t my business.”

“You very clearly did not stake your claim here, brother,” I say.

Every word is like a dart at my brother, and Clay flinches. “So you swoop in the second you have a chance—”

“Again, how’s that your fucking business?”

“It’s my business because—”

“Shut up!” Jessa cuts in, stepping between us. She holds her hands out as if to block us from coming to blows. Hell, maybe she’s right to react that way. My hand is a fist at my side and I’d like nothing more than to slam it into my brother’s face at the moment. I’m beyond fucking frustrated, and I know without a doubt that if Clay hadn’t walked through that door, I’d be inside Jessa right now.

“Jessa—” Clay starts. But he doesn’t get far.

“I’m no one’s fucking property,” Jessa says. “I’m free and clear here, and if I want to sleep with Trey, I will.” She directs the last part at Clay, but before I can feel too confident she turns on me, too. “But that doesn’t mean I belong to you, either. I can sleep with either one of you, both of you if I fucking feel like it. Or neither one of you. And it’s nobody’s damn business but my own.” She throws her arms up in frustration. “Good fucking night to you both.”

Chapter 11

Jessa

“Are you all right?” a voice asks from the shadows as I slam the billiard door room behind me.

I jump a little, even though I recognize the voice, and I turn to give whatever Hollister brother dares to talk to me right now a piece of my mind.

Dark, steady eyes meet mine from behind stylish glasses.

Joshua. Duh. Both of the Hollisters I’m actually mad at are stuck behind the door I just slammed.

He had absolutely nothing to do with the drama that just took place, and yet, I’m still tempted to yell at the poor man. It’s stupid. But part of me is annoyed with him too. Probably because I find myself just as attracted to the quieter Hollister brother as I am to the other two.

“Where did you come from?” I ask, ignoring his question. I’m so very far from okay, but he’s hardly someone I should be confiding in about my situation

Joshua stretches his shoulders and then clasps his hands behind his head. “Same place I reckon Clay came from—bed.”

Crap. Had Trey and I been loud enough to wake everyone else up? Or had Clay been listening for me to go upstairs or something? Thank God there were only the brothers to really wake up in case we’d been loud. BethAnn’s room is on the other side of the house, and all the ranch hands live out in the bunkhouse.

“I’m sorry I woke you up,” I say closing my eyes to massage my temples. A headache is in my future if I continue spending time with the Hollister brothers. I’m sorry I woke Clay up, too. But for very different reasons. But if Clay hadn’t come, would Joshua have interrupted us? Or would he have observed from the shadows?

Might he have joined in?

My eyes snap open, and I meet Joshua’s dark gaze. For half a second, it feels like he can read my thoughts. Like he can see the terribly dirty things that pop in my head every time a Hollister brother is around. I shake off the feeling mentally. Of course, he can’t read my thoughts.

“You don’t have to apologize to me,” Joshua says, taking a step toward me. “It was quite the show.”

My breath catches my throat, and my stomach tightens. “You saw?”

Another step and he closes the distance between us. And he is suddenly in my personal bubble. Only inches away. Close enough to smell the slight hint of cologne he carries. Close enough to feel the heat of his body.

Close enough to touch.

And holy cow, do I want to touch him. Need fills me after the near-finish with Trey, and I’d love nothing more than to have this beautiful cowboy step in and fulfill it. How crazy does that make me? That I want, more than anything, for this man to step in and finish what his brother started? Pretty crazy, probably. But I’m finding I just don’t care. I feel how I feel, wrong or right.