Cowgirls Don't Cry (Rough Riders 10)

No. He’d found something better. Jessie.

Brandt tuned out Lydia’s suggestive comments, maintaining a bland expression as his eyes kept darting toward the exit. What could be taking Jessie so long?

Thank God the song ended. Brandt immediately dropped Lydia’s hands and attempted to retreat as the dance floor cleared.

But Lydia wasn’t having any of it. She herded him backward even as he tried to dodge her. When the creases of his thighs hit the stage, he caught the edge to keep from falling on his ass. Lydia took advantage, slithering between his legs. She wound her arms around his neck like twin anacondas, unhinged her jaw and swallowed his face.

Jesus. Brandt felt like he was choking she’d jammed her tongue so far down his throat. He stood abruptly, expecting that’d dislodge her, but she clung to him like a deranged monkey.

Goddammit. Enough. He put his hands on her hips, intending to shove her away as he tried to dislodge his mouth from her fangs.

They were roughly pulled apart. “What the hell is goin’ on here?”

His gaze flew to Jessie. Holy f**k was she pissed off. Brandt immediately got to his feet.

Lydia coyly wiped her mouth. When she sidled closer to Brandt, Jessie inserted herself between them and snapped, “Answer the question.”

“Me’n Brandt just got carried away, didn’t we, honey?”

“Shut your mouth, Lydia.”

“Sorry,” Lydia pouted, without an ounce of remorse. “I was just trying to explain.”

“Don’t,” he snapped.

Jessie’s fury-darkened eyes never looked away from his. “Is it true, Brandt? Did you and Lydia get carried away?”

“No.”

Her expression shifted. She whirled to face Lydia. “You get your kicks out of kissing an unwilling man?”

“Oh, sugar, don’t kid yourself for a second he was unwilling.”

“Bullshit.”

Lydia smiled cagily. “What are you gonna believe? What you saw with your own eyes? Or what he tells you? ’Cause, you’re awful damn naïve if you don’t think he’ll lie about what just happened to spare your feelings.”

Direct hit. Brandt needed to get Jessie out of here now. “Jessie—”

Jessie’s laughter cut him off. “You want proof?” She pointed to Brandt’s groin. “He doesn’t have a hard-on. If anything you did even turned him on a little, he’d be sporting wood. Trust me, I know. So, sugar, take your desperation to some other man because Brandt is not interested in you.”

But Lydia wouldn’t let it go. “So you’re Jessie. The poor little widow whose husband couldn’t keep it in his pants.” She gave Jessie a derisive head-to-toe inspection. “No wonder he wandered. Looks like you’re trying—and failing—to prove you can keep the interest of another McKay man.”

“Shut your stupid mouth. You don’t know a goddamned thing about Brandt.”

“Hit a nerve, did I?”

“I’ll show you hitting a nerve.” Jessie leapt at Lydia.

Lydia screamed as they hit the floor, Jessie’s fists flailed as she tried to connect with every part of Lydia’s body she could reach. Then Lydia bucked and sent Jessie sprawling. But that didn’t stop Jessie from crawling back and pouncing on her.

Brandt had never seen Jessie enraged. She’d wind up in jail for assault if any of her punches actually landed. He crouched down, wrapped both arms around her middle and lifted her off Lydia.

“Let me go! I’m gonna beat her ass.”

“I think you made your point.”

“No, I’m not done. She doesn’t understand that she doesn’t get to say shit like that about you. I’m gonna make her understand if it takes all goddamn night!”

He held her, hugging her back to his chest, attempting to contain her. “Jess. Baby. Calm down.”

“That f**king bitch attacked me,” Lydia said as she picked herself up off the floor. “You all saw it.”

Everyone who’d gotten closer to watch the catfight walked away. Not a single person stuck around to back up Lydia’s claims.

Brandt figured they’d best leave too. He loosened his hold on his surprising hellcat.

Mistake.

Jessie broke free and loomed over Lydia, who finally had the good sense to cower like a whipped pup.

“Stay away from him, do you hear me? I will f**k you up if I ever see you looking at him again. And if you ever touch him, I swear to God I will—”

“And…we’re done.” Brandt picked Jessie up, snagged their coats off the chairs and carried her out of the bar.

As soon as they were outside, she thrashed and said, “Let me down.”

“Only if you promise me you ain’t gonna make a break for it and go back inside.”

“Bitch would deserve it,” she muttered.

Brandt didn’t release her until they reached his truck. He tossed her the long duster and slipped on his jacket. “Get in.”

“No. I’m too f**king mad.”

“If you wanna try scream therapy again, we need to get out of town first.”

“I just wanna punch something. Or someone. But since you won’t let me do that…” She kicked a clump of dirt. Tracked down another and kicked it too.

Brandt watched her, unruffled by this violent side of his sweet Jessie, mostly because he understood it. “Why did you go after her like that?”

“Because she had her hands on you. Because she was kissing you. God. She had no right. Are all women so desperate? Didn’t she know better than to throw herself at another woman’s man? In public, no less.”

He froze. His brain backtracked. Wait a second. Jessie hadn’t gotten pissed off because of what Lydia had said about her or Luke, she’d gotten pissed off over Lydia lumping him in with all other cheating men in the world. Hope like he’d never experienced filled his chest. Somehow he managed to keep his tone even when he asked, “So do you make a habit of this?”

Jessie snorted. “Fighting? Not hardly. I’ve never wanted to kill anyone with my bare hands as much as I did the second I saw her plastered to you.”

“That’s interesting.”

“Why?”

“Because I’ve never had a woman fight over me.”

“Well, I’ve never had a man worth fighting for.”

Brandt erased the five feet between them, forcing her to look at him. “Run that by me one more time.”