Stripped Down

I fold Rose’s panties and set them on the pillow by her head. Everything else is still in my truck, so I go over to my closet and grab a clean flannel shirt. When the sun goes down, it gets cold. I take one last look at her and I leave.

Axel and J.J. are waiting in the great room for me. Axel leans against the wall, arms crossed over his chest, while J.J. slouches on the sofa in front of the fireplace. Guess my sins are coming home to roost even sooner than I thought. My brothers are a pain in my ass sometimes, and it looks like this is gonna be one of those times.

“How long have you and Rose been a thing?” J.J. is the one to speak up first. No surprise. Axel likes to take his time, think things through before he puts the words out there. J.J., however, tackles like he would a bull in the chute at the rodeo. He jumps on, hangs on, and dares you to buck him off. The thing is, people get hurt bull-riding. Good cowboys have accidents, take spills they never saw coming. J.J.’s been banged up and tossed around more times than I like to remember, but he’s always gone back for me. He’s stubborn, and one look at his face and I know he’s going after me the same way he rides for the grand prize buckle.

“None of your business. This is between Rose and me. I’ve got stuff to do, so I’m headed out.”

Liar. The only shit on my agenda is finding something inanimate to punch. And space. I need space right now, need to do some running of my own because she’s not the only one with baggage and worse memories.

“I’ll keep an eye on her,” J.J. volunteers.

“I’d appreciate it.” Liar.

ROSE

When I make it down the stairs, Angel is gone and J.J. is waiting for me. He waves at me, and I nod. I want to get out of here, so I head out the door. He follows and actually manages to keep his mouth shut for five whole seconds. He spends that time, however, shooting me sidelong glances.

“I’m not one to judge,” he says finally, eyes fixed on yard and the RV.

“Good plan.” I estimate it will take less than two minutes to reach the RV, but then he reaches out and tugs me to a halt.

“But I gotta say something,” he continues, and I fight the urge to thunk my head into the nearest wall.

“Life’s all about choices,” I say dryly and he nods.

“So help me out here. Tell me when you chose my brother.”

The words hang in the air between us, the distant low of cattle the only punctuation.

Shit. Did J.J. hear us? Does he know for certain, or is he guessing? I sneak a sidelong peek at him and catch him staring at me. Probably all my dirty secrets are on display.

J.J.’s face hardens. “Did he fuck you when you were sixteen?”

“That’s none of your business.”

He shakes his head. “It sure as fuck is, baby girl. You lived with us for six months. You were like my little sister.”

“Six months doesn’t count for much.” I contemplate making a jailbreak for Lonesome. I could walk it if I had to, but I’m not that stupid.

J.J. curses. “Let’s talk.”

“Let’s not.” Talking doesn’t actually make things less complicated—it just makes them wordier.

“Tell me you’re okay,” he says softly, turning to me. He knows something happened today. He knows I’m not entirely okay, because he reaches up and brushes his thumb over my lower lip. Fuck. I’ll bet my lips are swollen from Angel’s kisses. There are other marks on me too, the red burn of his stubble on my throat, my breasts. The rest is secret, hidden beneath my clothes.

“If he had sex with you when you were sixteen, I’ll kill him.” J.J. makes the threat matter-of-factly. He looks one hundred percent naughty cowboy, his hair tousled where he ran a hand through it, his Stetson tossed on the seat beside him. His legs stretch out for miles, wrapped in denim and ending with worn-in cowboy boots. J.J. may look pretty, but I think he’d do it. J.J. has his own set of rules and he may be the family pretty boy and the rodeo star who makes bank endorsing various products, but he’s got a steel core not everyone gets to see. If he thinks Angel hurt me, he’ll hurt Angel.

“We’re never having this conversation again,” I tell him. “So I’ll tell you one more time and then? You. Let. It. Go. Angel’s not some fucking pervert. He never touched me when I was sixteen. He also never touched me before this week. He’d never hurt me. Those are two things you should already know about him. This thing between us is new and you don’t have to worry. I don’t need you to worry for me, okay?”

Angel may be a possessive asshole, but he doesn’t deliberately break his toys.