Hard Ridin' (20 page)

“Hey there, Jens.” She came around the desk, all twitching curves and seductive poses. “You’re my next appointment?”

He pressed his lips together. Lord help him get through this without getting trapped between bookshelves with this woman. “You know I am.”

“Good to see you again. You’re looking fine.” She drawled the last word, sliding her gaze over his crisp, button-down shirt and right to his dark jeans. He shifted from foot to foot, uncomfortable as a dog with porcupine quills in its snout.

“Thank you. Now, you have some papers for me to look at?” He purposely steered the subject away from anything that might indicate he was interested in her.

But damn if she didn’t bounce forward on her high heels and throw her arms around his neck. He patted her back once, and then pushed her away, but not before his entire person was drenched in her strong perfume.

Fuck, gonna have to stop at the truck stop and shower before I can even go home.

Belinda twisted away from him and averted her gaze, as if she’d finally realized he wasn’t truly interested. While he felt bad, he didn’t want to egg her on at all. Laurel was it for him. And Holden was too.

“This way. I have some files laid out.”

For the next hour, he immersed himself in the paper smell of the files and the legal verbiage he sometimes had difficulty wrapping his head around. As far as these papers claimed, he and Holden owned the Rope Burn Ranch, including the smaller plot where the Ransom house sat. According to this, there was no Robert Breaker paper in existence.

Jens asked Belinda the hardest question yet. “If someone claimed there was a document stating he rightfully owns a portion of this land, would he have a legal case?”

She tilted her head and studied him too closely. “If there is a heading from a law firm, or even the signature of a lawyer, then yes.”

Jens tapped the stack of closed files. He had to find out for certain, and there was only one way to do that—get Robbie Breaker to show him. “Thanks, Belinda. I appreciate your time. And thank you for your discretion.” He gave her the full force of his stare, hoping that if she truly had a care for him, she wouldn’t want to see him hurt by a rumor.

She dipped her gaze. “Of course, Jens.”

Ten minutes outside of town, some of Jens’s confidence fled, washing away like leaves down a fast-running river. Why would Robbie Breaker bring up the document if it didn’t exist? He’d even called Jens and set up a time to meet to discuss the rightful ownership.

“Damn,” he muttered.

If Robbie really did hold the deed, that meant everything on the land belonged to him. Including Laurel’s organic crops.

Jens turned his head and looked out the side window at the fields. He couldn’t think about it. Couldn’t allow himself to get freaked out that Breaker was going to bring down him, Holden and the woman they loved.

He’d just have to deal with it—buy back the land as quickly as possible and without his lovers finding out about it.

Lovers.
The word had a sweet ring to it. While he and Holden hadn’t actually touched other than a kiss here and there, something stirred inside him at the thought of going further.

All the more reason to protect them from the catastrophe it would be to lose the organic farm. Jens was in this for the long haul with Holden and Laurel—and that meant he had to dig in his heels and set things to rights before they discovered what was up.

The strains of a country tune wafted out of The Hellion and into the parking lot. Holden had been cajoled into coming here by Jens, who said he wanted them to kick up their heels and have a good time after their hard work on the farms.

But something in Jens’s eyes was dead when he said this. Just what was wrong, Holden couldn’t put his finger on. Even in bed, Holden sensed a difference in his friend. He seemed more desperate, hungrier for a connection. Not that it was a bad thing, but something was wrong.

Holden threaded his fingers with Laurel’s, and they made their way into the bar with Jens right behind them. Memories of the last time they’d been in this parking lot together washed through Holden’s mind. He could nearly feel the sting of Jens’s teeth against his knuckles. Remorse flooded him.

They’d come a long way. Hopefully, tonight they could unwind and enjoy each other.

But by walking into this bar and showing all the other guests that they were a trio, they were putting their bare asses to the wind. If anyone said so much as a word to Laurel about it, Holden was prepared to go to battle.

“You’re sure this is a good idea? There’s a double feature over at the drive-in. Back-to-back action flicks. All the stunt doubles you could want and none of the mess.”

Jens eyed him, his mouth grim. “I’m not afraid to show everyone what I’m made of. It’s a small town, but it isn’t as if they don’t all wish they could be as free. I’m not hiding.” His tone held a challenge.

“Laurel, you okay with this?”

She drew a deep breath and the tops of her breasts bulged momentarily over her skin-tight corset shirt. “Absolutely. I haven’t danced in far too long—let alone with two handsome men.”

Holden gave a hard nod. “As long as the lady’s happy…”

“Good.” Jens led the way inside, strode right up to the bar and ordered three cold beers. Armed with these, he moved to the table where Holden was seating Laurel.

As he pulled the chair out for her, he skimmed her ass with his fingertips. Her black skirt was molded to her hips, inspiring images of gripping her hips from behind and slamming into her tight, wet pussy.

Jens set the beers down and flashed him a grin that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

Holden watched him closely as he took a swig of beer. His gaze was locked on the dance floor. Conveniently avoiding Holden and Laurel’s stares?

Laurel kicked Holden under the table, and he placed a hand on her thigh. A couple days ago, she’d confided to Holden that she’d smelled perfume on Jens’s clothes. Did he know where Jens had been? When asked, Jens said he’d gone into town. That was it. No word about whose perfume it was.

While Holden was confident that Jens would never cheat on Laurel—or him—it was impossible not to wonder what the hell was going on.

“Where’d you go today after lunch, Jens?”

Laurel’s body hummed with tension. She twined her fingers with Holden’s.

“Oh, you know. Errands,” Jens said, tipping the beer back and swallowing deeply.

“Yeah? You get those seed potatoes?”

“No.”

“Then what? New wipers for the Ford?”

“Uh-uh.”

“Cut the shit and tell us what’s up, Jens.” Laurel leaned across the table, as if seeking the truth with her whole body. Her long hair lay in glossy waves on her shoulders and spine, which seemed to bounce with her nerves.

Jens finally met her gaze, holding it steadily. He set his beer down carefully, precisely atop the wet ring he’d left on the table. “What do you mean?”

“You’ve been off for days, and we think you’re hiding something from us. That true?” Holden cocked back in his chair, studying his friend’s face. He knew Jens so well, and way more intimately than a best friend should. The slightest nuance of a change in Jens, and Holden was on high alert.

Jens broke eye contact and looked down. He swirled a finger over a bead of moisture on the table. “Nothing much.”

“You’re a bad liar, Jens Anderson.”

“And you’re absolutely gorgeous tonight, Laurel.”

She shook off the compliment. “Flattery will usually get you a blow job, but not tonight. You’re going to tell me and Holden what’s wrong.”

Jens raked his fingers through his hair. “I’m not exactly ready to say. I need more time.”

Holden’s heart sank. “It’s that bad?”

Jens’s mouth worked. “Worse.” His voice sounded guttural, broken.

“I was at the farmers’ market today, talking to Mrs. Sanders about selling some of my harvest, and she mentioned that she ran into you at the bank,” Laurel said.

“Damn nosy people,” Jens muttered. He reached for his bottle again, but Holden stopped him with a hand on his wrist. The warm, strong muscles and sinew beneath his hand sent sensations straight to Holden’s groin.

“Enough, Jens. If we’re truly a team, then we deserve to know what’s wrong.”

He glanced from the crowded bar to the dance floor and back to Holden and Laurel. “I can’t talk about it here.”

Laurel shoved her chair back. “Then let’s go outside.”

“And please no fist-fighting,” Holden said under his breath. His bowels were churning with dread. What was Jens going to say? A thousand scenarios played through his mind—he didn’t want this threesome, just wanted Laurel to himself, was moving away, was in debt up to his ass for overspending on seeds and old car parts.

The cool air outside calmed Holden a little. He clutched Laurel’s hand tightly, trying to soothe her tremors. He hated that Jens was causing such distress in her. Protective instincts rose in Holden.

Jens’s boot heels crunched on the gravel. He stopped beside the truck and leaned his forearms on the hood, then bowed his head so his forehead nearly touched the metal.

“Jesus, Jens. Just tell us.” Holden’s stomach shook.

“It has to do with the deed and Old Man Breaker.”

Shock tore through Holden. Of all the things he thought Jens might say, that was far from his expectations.

“What about it?” Laurel’s voice was hushed.

“After Breaker died, Robbie cornered me and told me Ransom lost his small piece of ground in a game of cards.”

“Cards?” Laurel echoed.

Jens didn’t look at them. “Robbie said Ransom signed over a portion equaling twenty acres to his father.”

“But he’s wrong. We have the survey of the land—”

“No.” Jens lifted his gaze, and the searing pain Holden saw there made him suck in his breath. “I saw the paper, Holden. It’s a legal contract, drawn up by a lawyer from town.” His gaze flickered to Laurel, and he dropped it instantly. “I’m sorry, Laurel, but it includes your farm and the house.”

“Sweet—” Holden felt like crumpling over, just as he had when he’d come home from Alaska to find his girl in Jens’s arms. He crushed his hat in his hand and ripped it off his head. “Are you telling me that Laurel has planted crops on land that’s not ours—not hers?”

She went as white as cream. “Jens, is that true?”

“Looks like it. And yes, I was at the bank today, trying to get a loan for the money we need to buy out Robbie Breaker.”

“Fuck!” Holden slammed the heel of his hand off the truck door. Once. Twice. “Why are we just now learning about this? Why didn’t Breaker speak up when we purchased the land after Ransom died?”

Jens shook his head. “He was a good guy. He didn’t need twenty more acres, so it didn’t matter to him. But his son’s not that way.”

“Did you get the money from the bank?” Laurel asked.

Dropping his head, Jens looked positively miserable—as miserable and knotted up as Holden felt inside. If they lost the land—she lost her crops and all her money.

The Rope Burn Ranch might lose, but he and Jens would lose more. Laurel wouldn’t stay and fight for her dream.

“They wouldn’t lend it. Said I’m maxed with this mortgage.”

Holden paused. Yeah, Jens probably was. But Holden had money in the bank from fishing. He’d held on to most of it, saving it for a rainy day, or in the event that he had to run away after Laurel dumped him for Jens.

Well, this sure as fuck seemed like a rainy day. But at the same time, Holden was majorly pissed at his friend.

What kind of relationship was it when one person bore the brunt of a problem?

Holden released a long sigh. “We’ll figure something out. Just—”

Jens’s eyes flashed with a spark of anger. “I’m in control here,” he said through clenched teeth. “Starting now.”

He grabbed Laurel’s hand, opened the door and pushed her gently into the truck. “Get in,” he said to Holden before walking around the front and climbing behind the wheel.

The ride home was super-charged with tension. Laurel perched on the edge of the seat between him and Jens, knees bouncing. When Jens placed a hand on her thigh, she fell still at once, and her nerves turned to lust. Holden could feel it coming off her in waves.

Through her tight blouse, her nipples were as hard as two pearls.

“Put your hand in her panties,” Jens ordered, parting her thighs with one hand. “She needs to get off. Now.”

A shudder rolled over her and was transmitted into Holden through the places their bodies touched—shoulders, hips, knees.

The sun had dropped behind the hills, and the cab was plunged into darkness, only lit by the faint dash lights.

“Laurel, shimmy out of your panties, baby.”

“I’m not wearing any,” she whispered.

Holden and Jens shared a harsh moan.

Wrapping his fingers around her inner thigh, Holden tugged until her knee rested over his. Jens’s fingers met his at her soaking wet junction.

“She’s more slippery than the road to hell.” Holden groaned.