Ride With Me: A Possessive Cowboy Romance

But barely.

I couldn't get her out of my head.

"Jake, are you listening?"

I swirled my glass, making the ice clink against the crystal.

"Uh huh."

"I told you he'd be difficult,” I heard a voice say and looked up.

Daniel was bitching about me to Jackson. Nothing new there. The two of them were thick as thieves. I was the one on the outside. Always.

Even way back when I was a little boy who idolized his two big brothers. I’d trailed after them, wanting to be just like them. But instead, somehow I always ended up doing the wrong thing. Breaking the rules. Getting a whooping from dad.

Nothing had changed.

Well, except that mom was gone. The once happy home had disappeared without her like a mirage. And now our father was ill. It was impossible to imagine the tall, strapping, powerful man in poor health. But he was. No one would tell me how ill though. Or what was wrong with him. But since the old man had actually looked glad to see me when I’d showed up out of the blue, I could guess that it was pretty bad.

I wasn’t sure how to feel about that. The old man and I had never seen eye to eye. That was an understatement. I didn’t like the old man. But I didn’t want him dead.

"Spit it out,” I said without heat.

Jackson laughed and stood up to pour himself a drink. Then he turned and stared at me. I was starting to get a feeling that something more serious was on the table.

“Look… It's about dad's will."

"Will? He's alive the last I checked. Isn't he? That seems a bit premature."

Jackson ran his hands through his hair.

"He's dying Jake. I'm sorry to be the one to tell you."

I inhaled sharply. Then I took a drink. I realized I wasn’t surprised.

I had known that on some level. The old man's skin had a slightly yellow tint to it. And he’d lost weight. Our father was always a big, tall, muscular man. Now he looked frail. It was more than just getting older.

He was wasting away.

No, I wasn’t surprised at all.

So why did I feel like there was a rock sitting in my gut?

Jackson looked sincere though. He did look sorry. For once. I finished my drink in one swallow.

"Okay."

"He wants us to run Delancey Estates. Together."

My eyebrows shot up. Now, that was a surprise. Jackson and Daniel had been running things under our father’s supervision for years. As far as I was concerned, that's the way it should be. The golden boys should do what they were born and bred to do.

Be golden.

"So run it. What's it got to do with me?"

Daniel spoke up then, looking earnest.

"It has to be all three of us. It's one of the codicils. It's all three of us, or none."

"What? If I don't stay, nobody gets to stay here?”

I stared at my brothers but they didn't blink. The wily old man had really put me up against a wall now. Hell, he'd put us all up against a wall.

"We need you Jake. It’s not just about the will. No one can work the difficult horses like you can."

I stood up and crossed to the bar. I poured a generous helping into my glass and drank. Then I refilled it again.

"That was a lifetime ago."

Jackson grabbed my arm.

"This is here and now— why can't you let go of the past? No one meant to hurt you. Least of all mom. And she sure as shit didn't deserve to die without seeing her son."

I knocked Jackson's hand away.

"You know I couldn't come back. And you know why."

I glanced at Daniel.

"Goodnight Daniel. I'm sorry about your— problem— but I can't do a damn thing about it."

I turned and left the room without a backward glance.

Chapter Six

Elle

The smell of stale beer and sawdust filled the air. And it was the sweetest damned smell in the world. Lights shone in my eyes and I opened them wider, wanting to take in every single detail. Every moment.

I leaned into the microphone, singing with everything I had. This was it. The band finally had a gig booked a couple of weeks from now. It was our first. And the club owner Tom was there to watch rehearsal, even though it was off hours.

I had a sneaking suspicion he was there to watch me, too.

Tom had a way of hanging around whenever we came to the club. He was always nice. Almost too nice. Like the way he held your hand a few seconds too long when he shook it.

To be honest, he made my skin crawl.

Male attention was part of the gig though. I knew it. So I always let loose when I performed, letting out all the pent up sexual energy ride out and over the audience.

Lord knows, I had a lot of pent up energy.