Wrangled (Steele Ranch 2)

9

PENNY

“That’s probably Kady and her men,” Jamison said when the doorbell rang.

“What?” I screeched.

We were sprawled on his supersized couch, my head in Boone’s lap, my feet over Jamison’s thighs. We were watching a series on satellite and had made it as far as the second episode. To say I was tired—and a little sore—was an understatement and the fact that I was vegging out in the middle of the day was proof of it.

“Now? Here?” I spun in a circle between the couch and the coffee table, panicking. I had no idea what to do. Boone grunted when I pushed off his belly with my elbow and Jamison deflected a heel kick to the crotch.

“They got back this morning from their trip and went out to the ranch. Riley called earlier wondering where you were.”

I put my hands on my hips, narrowed my eyes. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

This was my sister. Well, half-sister, but still. I hadn’t even known she’d existed until a few weeks ago. And now she was ringing Boone’s doorbell because she wanted to meet me. Oh. My. God.

“Because, Kitten,” Jamison began, cutting into my irrational thoughts. “You and Boone were in the shower and I could hear you coming from the kitchen.”

I couldn’t help but blush, remembering exactly what Boone had done when he’d dropped to his knees and put my foot up on the built-in shower bench. My pussy clenched at his very thorough attentions at getting me clean…with his mouth. It seemed both men liked playing in the shower.

The doorbell rang again. I whipped around to face the direction of the front door.

“What if she hates me?” I took a deep breath, let it out, trying to calm my crazy heart. It was practically beating out of my chest. “Or worse, what if she’s a total bitch?” I whispered the last, worried she might hear me from two rooms away and through a thick door.

Both men smiled and began to laugh, but when I narrowed my gaze and gave them the look of death, they stifled them.

“Kitten, Kady is not a bitch,” Jamison said, his voice reassuring. “You’re going to get along great…if you’d just open the door.”

“What, like this?” I asked, holding my arms out to indicate I was wearing only one of Boone’s flannel shirts and my knee-high socks. The tails of the shirt hung several inches lower than my jean skirt from the night before, brushing over my knees. I’d rolled the sleeves up three times. It was practically a muumuu on me.

“I don’t think she cares what you’re wearing.”

There was pounding on the door followed by shouting. “Boone, open this door! I know my sister is in there. I want to meet her. RIGHT. NOW!”

My mouth fell open and I froze. That was her voice. My sister. She was pissed.

Boone stood and pointed in the direction of the banging. “Don’t mess with that one. She taught third grade, I think.”

“Second,” Jamison corrected. “Although she’s teaching middle school here in Barlow.”

“Even worse, those little buggers.” He winked and headed toward the door.

Realizing he was going to open it and not me, I leapt over the coffee table and sprinted, all but knocking Boone out of the way to beat him to it.

I yanked open the door, let it bounce off the stopper as I stood and stared. And stared. I knew there were two men behind her. I could see them, but I paid them no mind. If a judge asked me what they looked like, I wouldn’t be able to give a description. I was that blinded by my sister.

“You look nothing like me,” I said, my tone full of surprise and awe as I took her in.

She was at least six inches taller, had fiery red hair and a peaches and cream complexion. She wore a cute green sundress and heeled sandals. She was…lovely.

“I always wanted blonde hair,” she replied.

Her arms were wrapped around me in a fierce hug before I even realized it and it took me a second to lift my arms and hug her back. She smelled of a light perfume, something floral or citrusy.

Now I took in the two men behind her. One was huge. Like football linebacker enormous. I had to wonder if he ate whole chickens or small African villages for dinner. The other guy was just as tall, but built much more average-sized. At least by Montana standards. The only two sizes of men here were Big and Bigger.

Their eyes were squarely on the back of Kady’s head and the looks on their rugged faces softened with something akin to reverence. Love. That’s what it was. Kady was happy, so they were happy.