Stripped Down

“You need a solid place to stay.” I shove off the porch and head for the truck. She hesitates, but then she follows me. Even Rose isn’t impetuous enough to risk being stranded here. “We’ve got room on the ranch.”

Naturally, she has to argue with me. “I belong here. Rory can bring the RV over.”

“You don’t have to do without electricity tonight,” I counter. “Or dinner. Bring Rory and the damn RV if you have to.”

I can park the bastard out in the bunkhouse. He won’t get near her. And she has to be tempted because, while her suitcase is heavy enough to hold a fridge, I’m betting it doesn’t. I must be right, because she actually lets me open the truck door for her. Or maybe that’s because she’s working up to another argument.

“If I come, that doesn’t mean I’m giving up the house.”

I really don’t need to think about her coming. Not now. But now she’s put the dirty thoughts into my head, and I can’t help but imagine it. Her clenching around my dick. The sweet little ripples as her pussy milks me as she gets closer and closer. Bet I can make her come twice. Three times.

I need to get my big head back into the game.

“So we have a temporary deal. Stay at the ranch, and take a couple of days to think things over. You don’t have to decide standing on the damned porch, do you?”

“All right,” she says, climbing up into the truck. “Yes. But this is just temporary, Angel. I’m moving in here.”

Hearing Rose say yes is addictive. I’ve gotta hear it again.

“Yes,” I tell her, and it’s an agreement, a concession, and a fucking win all rolled into one. She drives me crazy and she doesn’t even know it, which is good because Rose would walk all over me if she could. I’ve got her right where I want her: back in my life. Next step is getting her into bed.

ROSE

I cried. I don’t cry.

Worse, I cried in front of Angel.

Let a guy know he’s hurt you or your down, and he’s got the upper hand. Some of them enjoy it. Tears, a fight, the whole nine yards—it’s a turn on. Angel’s not that kind of man, but he does respect strength in his opponent, and I just showed a belly full of weakness.

Rory is okay with moving the RV out to the ranch. We can run an extension cord to the bunkhouse for free power, and I suspect he may have erotic designs on one or more of Angel’s cowboys. I’m not thrilled about moving closer to Angel, but the proximity is a minor concession in the war we’re fighting.

He’s waiting outside for us when Rory and I pull up. He motions for us to pull into a shady spot beneath a downright ancient grove of California oaks. It’s actually gorgeous.

I park the Bug, and Angel’s right there, opening the door for me. It’s too much, too fast. I almost slam into him when I stand up, and he tucks a steadying hand beneath my elbow. Then he tugs me toward him, his hand guiding me in the direction he wants me to go.

The ranch house.

So not happening. I shrug off his hold, or attempt to. His hand tightens. He’s determined not to let go. I glance at him, trying to figure out his reasons from his face, but he’s starting stony-faced at Rory who’s just emerged from the RV.

“Introduce me,” he drawls. I’d say it’s like I’m tapping the big red button that detonates all our country’s nukes on some unsuspecting enemy, but Rory rocks backward on his heels, a fake-as-shit smile stretching his face. Fantastic. Rory hates Angel, and the feeling’s mutual. Rory definitely wants to land a bomb on Angel’s ass.

“Rory Olivera.” I reach a hand out to Rory, who takes it, twining his fingers through mine.

“His name can be Genghis Khan. The only thing I give a fuck about is what he is,” Angel growls.

Rory smirks again. “Roomie. Bestie. Business partner. Far more than you are.”

Jesus. If they were dogs, they’d both be running around in circles and urinating on the oak trees. Two other men approach slowly from the ranch house. J.J. and Axel, I realize, coming to play back up for their brother. I half expect the bullets to start flying. Neither bothers to act casual. They’re both checking out Rory, both wondering what the fuck he’s doing with me. I have no idea why a girl can’t be best friends with someone who has a penis instead of a vagina.

“Rory’s my best friend,” I tell no one and everyone. “Don’t fuck with him.”

Rory winks. “I’m fussier than that. These boys only wish I’d do them.”

J.J. snorts, and just like that the tension breaks. “I know a couple of cowboys who are gonna love you.”