Double Her Pleasure (11 page)

Trey grabbed two cans of beer and tossed one
to Garret. “What do you think of this whole thing? Too much of a
coincidence, right?”

His brother flopped down into a cushioned
wicker chair and stared out over the barren landscape. “Yep.
Something ain’t right.” He drank half his beer. “But until
something else happens, we just gotta stay vigilant.”

Trey gestured toward Megan. “Meanwhile,
keeping her safe without getting her paranoid is gonna be tough.”
He stood at the edge of the pool looking at her. Their afternoon
alone together had been cut short, and he wanted a replay.

“You, ah, have a good time out at the lake?”
Garret’s voice sounded strained.

“As good of a time as you had with her on the
four-wheeler last night.”

His brother laughed.

Trey padded over and sat next to him. “You
know, if this is gonna put a wedge between us, we should—”

“No.” Garret crushed his empty can. “We’ll
learn to deal with it because it’s what she wants.” He nodded
toward Megan. “It’s probably good that we get to know her more
personally.” He stood. “Hell, whenever the three of us are
together, all we do is fuck.”

His brother’s coarse term didn’t sit right
with Trey, but that was Garret’s way.

Garret stood there looking at him.

Trey finished his beer. “What are you waiting
for me to say?”

“Shit, I don’t know.” He ran his fingers
through his wet hair. “I’m looking for some direction with this
thing between us three.” His mouth turned down at the corners.
“Does it feel like more than just damn-hot sex to you?”

Trey stood. “Wasn’t braced to hear that
comin’ from your pie hole.” Was his brother getting soft? Soft on
Megan?

“You know...” Garret pointed a finger at
Trey’s chest. “I try to open up a little, and I get a smack-down
from you.”

He was right. Trey was so used to teasing and
poking at Garret, it came automatically. He raised his hands in
surrender. “Little brother, I got those same ideas rolling around
in my head.” Trey smacked him on the shoulder. “Let’s get through
this stalker problem first.” He grinned. “Then we can work on
getting in touch with our emotions.”

They both laughed.

Garret shook his head. “Man, what’s that
woman doing to us?”

Out of the corner of his eye, Trey caught
movement. He jerked his head that direction. It was just Megan.

She stood, threw on the robe, waved to them,
and ducked into the house.

“What was that?” Garret glanced at Trey.

He shrugged. “Fuck if I know.” He tipped his
head. “Let’s go find out.”

****

Megan bolted up the steps and into Trey’s
bedroom, her belly cramping. She knew the signs. Her monthly was
coming early. “Damn.” Grabbing her purse, she ducked into the
bathroom and closed the door.

Rummaging through her purse, she found
emergency supplies to last through the night. She needed to get to
town tonight.

She peeled off the robe and stepped into the
shower. The warm water sluiced over her heated skin and tender
muscles. Her men had given her a workout. She paused. Were they
trying to keep her mind off the flower delivery?

Paranoia had been her constant companion over
the years, and it wasn’t something she easily discarded. She had to
trust that even if things went bad—if her stalker reappeared—she’d
be safe with Trey and Garret.

But for how long? What would happen once she
got home?

A knock on the door snapped her from her dark
thoughts. “Megan? You all right?”

“Fine.” She wanted a few minutes alone, and
the temptation she presented her men—a naked, wet, and willing
woman in the shower—would be too much for them to resist. “I’ll be
out in a couple minutes.”

“Okay, sweetheart.” A pause. “Let me know if
you need anything.”

She smiled. What would he say if she asked
him to run to town and pick up a box of tampons, a package of pads,
and a bottle of menstrual pain pills? Turning off the water, she
stepped out and grabbed a towel. The sweet guy would probably do
it. Garret, however, would more likely laugh in her face and make
some poor ranch hand run the errand.

She adored both her cowboy and her movie
star, but for very different reasons.

Throwing on the oversized robe Trey had
covered her with, she walked out of the bathroom.

Her men sat on the edge of the bed looking at
her, both sexy and cute in their swim trunks.

Silence stretched for a long moment.

“I need to go to town and do some
shopping.”

They looked out the west-facing window.

She tightened the belt on her robe. “I know
it’s late, but there’s something I need to get.”

Their heads swiveled back to face her. “Girl
stuff?” Garret’s voice sounded too quiet.

Trey looked at him, then at her, then
awareness dawned in his expression.

Garret stood. “I’ll drive you in. Drugstore’s
right next to the bar. We can grab a burger.” He winked. “Maybe do
some dancing when the band starts.”

Trey’s brows dropped and his lips
tightened.

With a glare, Garret silently communicated
something to his brother.

Megan would never get used to the telepathy
between these two.

Her cowboy stood. “Sure, you two go. I need
to check on a few things across the river anyway.” He strolled into
the bathroom and started the shower running.

Garret stood and kissed her forehead. “Let me
shower and I’ll meet you in the kitchen in ten. And wear your new
cowgirl boots.” He ambled out and down the hall.

Should she talk to Trey? Was he feeling left
out? As another cramp settled in her belly, she put the thought
aside for later. She had only ten minutes to dress and throw on
some makeup before Garret would make a fuss for her to get her ass
in gear.

At the closet, she chose her shortest denim
skirt, a sexy little black top, and her boots, which smelled a
little too much like horse. She would ignore her cramps, put the
stalker scare out of her mind, and concentrate on having a damn
good time dating her hotshot.

Near ten o’clock that night, Garret guided
Megan out the front door of the ironically named desert-town bar,
The Wet Spot. Her period symptoms had been a false alarm. She and
Garret spent a few hours eating, dancing, and sharing a couple
bottles of beer before exhaustion hit her and she asked to head
home.

When she’d actually used that word—home—he’d
looked startled, then grinned like a fool and herded her out onto
the sidewalk.

“Mr. McGatlin.” One of the two boys Garret
had called to watch his fancy, expensive sports car, stood. “I
watched real close, sir.” He had to be sixteen or so, but he stood
tall and spoke with conviction.

The other kid sat whittling a stick.

“Good work, cowboy.” Garret pulled his wallet
from his jeans.

Megan glanced at the car. It shone dark blue
under the streetlight, and a flash of red on the passenger side of
the windshield caught her eye. A flower? She gasped and stumbled
back a step.

Garret caught her. as she stared at the
flower on the windshield of his car and felt her world close in on
her “Megan?”

Her stomach lurched and she couldn’t take a
breath. She pointed to his car.

Garret’s body tensed. “What the fuck?” He
looked at the boy. “I thought you said you watched the car?”

The kid’s eyes were wide as headlights. “Just
the guy putting flowers on the windshields.” He gestured down the
street. “He put them on all of them.”

Glancing down the row of cars, she saw other
splotches of red on vehicles.

The boy lifted his hands. “Sorry, I didn’t
think there’d be anything wrong with—”

“What’d he look like?” Garret got in the
boy’s space.

Megan sucked in air. Maybe this was just a
coincidence. She’d look at the flower to see if it was just a
random gesture from some local guy. She took a step toward the
car.

“Hold on, baby.” Garret held her arm but
pointed at the boy. “Don’t go anywhere.”

“Yes sir.” His voice cracked once.

Garret walked around Megan and leaned over
the windshield, examining the flower. When he lifted the wiper
blade, Megan covered her mouth with her fingers. She hadn’t
considered that it could be dangerous. The flower tumbled to the
hood, a piece of paper sliding with it.

“It says, ‘Canada is your home, Maggie’.”
Garret looked at her. “Maggie?”

Things went dark around her, and Megan
focused on not fainting. “That’s me.” The words were a choppy
whisper.

“Damn it.” Garret pulled out his phone. In
seconds, he had the sheriff on the line. “We’ve got a stalker.
Followed her from Canada.” Garret went on to explain the earlier
flower delivery, now this single rose.

The young man stood staring, absorbing every
word. His friend even stopped his incessant whittling for a few
seconds before starting up again.

Megan watched the tiny pieces of wood hit the
sidewalk. This couldn’t be real. A sick sense of dizziness
enveloped her and sounds seemed to come from far away.

“Sheriff? You’re on speaker phone.”

“All right.”

Garret held his phone out toward the boys.
“Give the sheriff a description of the man who left the
flower.”

“He was short.” The standing kid gestured
toward Megan. “Shorter than the lady here. Had really short black
hair and a crooked nose.”

“Did you get that, sheriff?” Garret pressed a
button then held the phone to his ear again. “That was Whip Yoder.
He was watching—”

“I’m not Whip.” The boy sounded insulted.
“Whip’s my older brother. I’m Brace.”

“Huh.” Garret listened to his phone. “Yeah,
he looks just like Whip.”

Brace’s whittling friend laughed a couple
chortles before Brace smacked him on the arm.

“No, it can’t wait until morning—” Garret’s
jaw tightened. “Yes, I agree that is more urgent, but I still—” He
looked at Megan. “All right. First thing, though.” He hung up.

“Sheriff’s got his hands full tonight, but
he’ll be talking to you two...” He pointed to Brace and his silent
buddy. “Tomorrow.” He took a couple bills from his wallet.

Brace shook his head. “I messed up. I’m not
going to take it.”

Garret stuffed the bills in the boy’s chest
pocket. “You did good, and you have a description of the man.” He
clapped him on the back. “Now get home before you get me in trouble
with your dad.”

“Yes, sir.” He looked at Megan. “I’m real
sorry, ma’am.”

She forced a smile. “No need to apologize,
Brace.” Why couldn’t she hear her own voice?

He ducked his head and he and his friend ran
down the sidewalk, probably anxious to spread the newest
gossip.

Garret opened the trunk of his car, took out
a bag, and picked up the flower and the note using the plastic. He
set it in the trunk, slammed it shut, and opened Megan’s door.
“Let’s get home where it’ll be safe.”

As she slid in, he dialed his phone, closed
her door, and walked around the car checking for possible sabotage.
“Trey, we’ve got a problem. The bastard left a rose on the
windshield.” He held the phone away from his ear and she could hear
the cowboy yelling.

“Listen, I’d love to stand here and let you
yell at me for another hour, but I need both hands to get Megan
home safe, so whenever you’re done...”

He slid into the driver’s seat and started
the engine. Trey was still shouting. “Trey, just hold that thought
until we get there, damn it.” He hung up and tossed his phone into
the console. “Like this is my fault.” Shifting into reverse, he
roared into the middle of the street and burned a little rubber
getting them headed back to the ranch.

This was
her
fault. She’d put everyone
in danger because she wanted to follow her heart to Texas.

Garret’s phone rang. She looked at him, but
he kept driving. Once they were on the highway, he took his hand
off the gearshift and grabbed hers.

His was warm, hers was cold and numb. “Baby.”
He studied her face. “This is all going to be okay.”

No. It wasn’t. She had to think. To make a
plan.

He lifted her hand and kissed it. “Talk to
me. What’s going on in your head right now?”

Nothing came to mind. The hot wind scattered
her hair around and she grasped it with her free hand. Brace’s
description of the man could have been her stalker. “Brace
Yoder.”

“His dad works in security at the ranch. Good
man. What about Brace?” Garret released her hand and downshifted
around a curve.

She’d said it aloud? “Brace and Whip Yoder.
I’m having culture shock just from the names you Texans carry
around with you.”

“Megan, close your eyes for a minute.”

When she did, he rubbed his thumb slowly over
her palm. “You are a strong, smart woman. You’re not that scared
college girl anymore.”

Her eyes popped open and she stared at
him.

With a quick glance at her, he shifted again
and gunned the engine, sailing them forward at an impressive speed.
“You have two men who would do anything to keep you safe. We’ll
make this go away for you.”

When did her movie star find his inner
therapist? She opened her mouth to voice her concerns but his phone
rang again.

He looked at it then ignored it. “Trey.
Calling back to yell some more.”

She would have smiled if her head didn’t feel
disconnected from reality. Trey was yelling, Garret was spouting
inspirational blurbs. Was everything upside down today?

“What I can’t figure out is why Brace’s
description pegged a shorter guy than Jenny Ann Unger did.” Garret
shifted as they headed down the unending straightaway. He handed
her his phone. “Would you find the number for Unger Store and dial
it for me?”

“This late? Won’t they be upset?” She
searched his contacts and found the name.