Her Heart-Stealing Cowboys [Hellfire Ranch 2] (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour) (2 page)

“Me?” Wade asked in surprise. “Why me?”

Tag grinned. “Because you’re the teacher. Just use your mean voice on ’em and tell them to settle down. Whitcombe hasn’t complained about anything yet, but I’m sure he’s still dealing with Olivia’s blown-up room.”

“You think I’ll do more good than a talking-to from the sheriff?” Wade didn’t believe that crap for a second.

“They’re just kids,” Tag said. “Shouldn’t even be getting married as far as I’m concerned. Too damn young.”

“Maybe you’re just too old,” Hudson offered.

Tag’s glare was flat and menacing.

Hud laughed. “Weren’t you going to call about our house? I don’t know about these guys, but I really want to get home to a decent bed.”

“My couch is perfectly comfortable,” Tag said.

“Bullshit. Besides, I prefer our king-sized bed at home.” He looked at Jake and Olivia. The tenderness in his expression stunned Wade. “It fits us perfectly.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Tag said. He strode out of the kitchen to reappear a moment later with his cell phone to his ear. “Uh-huh. Yeah. He wants what?” One of Tag’s blond brows nearly flew from his broad forehead. He snorted. “Tell Fischer he can kiss my ass. He gets regular rations like any other prisoner.”

He fell silent and nodded a couple of times then gave Jake the thumbs-up. Within seconds though, his face grew dark once more. “Who? Donald Alcott? Never heard of him. Hell no, he can’t talk to Fischer. I don’t care if he’s from the
Freedom Beacon
, the
Austin Statesman
, or the
New York Times
. No one gets back to see my prisoner. Got it? Good.”

Finally he disconnected. “You guys are good to go. They’ve got plywood up on the picture window. Looks like you’ll have to special order a replacement.”

“I’ll pay for it,” Olivia said.

Jake was shaking his head before she could finish her sentence. Her glare told Wade their discussion was far from over.

He was amazed at how quickly the three of them seemed to have fallen into a pattern of familiarity and contentment.

He also wondered about the logistics of how other things worked between the three of them. Now
that
seriously roused his interest, not to mention a few lascivious fantasies.

“Who’s from the
New York Times
?” Jake asked.

Tag snorted. “No one. Some hotshot reporter is in town and waltzed right into my office and asked to talk to Fischer. Doreen told him no but he told her he’d be back.”

Jake’s eyes narrowed. “Why does he want to talk to Fischer?”

“Don’t know,” Tag said. “I didn’t ask. It doesn’t matter anyway since it’s not happening.”

Olivia stood and stretched.

Her smooth, honeyed abdomen drew Wade’s eye. He licked his lips. Hud kicked him under the table.

“Quit drooling, man. She’s taken.”

Wade chuckled as he stood. “All the good ones are, I suppose.”

“I’m going to get dressed,” Olivia said. “Let’s go home, shall we?”

Jake and Hud also stood.

Olivia hugged Tag. “Thanks for letting us stay last night.”

Jake’s hands fisted at his side and Hud caught him by the arm.

“Relax, Logan,” Tag said. “It’s just a hug.”

Jake bared his teeth in response then caught her by the arm. “Ready to go home, darlin’?”

She rose on tiptoe and kissed his mouth. “You bet.”

The trio left the kitchen. Wade leaned back in his chair until he balanced on two legs. “That’s an interesting situation,” he said.

A hint of a smile crossed Tag’s lips. “Yeah. Isn’t it just?”

“What do you think?”

Tag looked at him. “I think Jake Logan and Hudson Walker are two lucky sons of bitches.”

Wade tipped the chair back to the floor and stood. He walked next to Tag. “You ever do that? You know? When you were married to Pamela?”

Tag gave him a sharp look. “No,” he finally said. “She flatly refused any kind of other party in bed with us.”

Wade frowned. “I thought you were in charge? You know, being the Dom and all.”

Tag snorted. “There are rules we both agreed to follow. Other partners was a deal-breaker for her.”

Wade nodded. “I can understand that, I guess.” He looked at the now empty doorway. “But man, wouldn’t it be sweet to share a woman like that?”

Tag cuffed him on the shoulder. “That’s the problem, Wade. There are
no
other women like that. Besides, I’m not interested in commitment anymore. It’s nothing but a pain the ass and a drain on the finances. I’ll stick with one-night stands and the occasional trip to Austin. Come on, let’s get to town. Are you going to talk to the wedding kids for me?”

Wade groaned. “I suppose you’re going to insist?”

“Yep.”

“Fine, for all the good it’s going to do. But you’re gonna owe me a beer.” Wade wasn’t sure how he’d gotten such a reputation in the student body as a hard-ass and a teacher not to be messed with. He was glad for it, though. Dealing with troublemakers was always a pain in his butt. On the basketball court he could drill his players for hours as a punishment. Disciplinary measures were more difficult to enforce in the computer classes he taught. Cut and paste had taken the drudgery out of doing lines.

Hud, Jake, and Olivia trooped into the hallway near the front door. Jake held a large green duffle bag. He hefted it upward. “We’re packed.”

Tag took a long pull from the coffee cup then set it on the counter with an echoing thud. “Good. Let’s go.”

He locked up the house while they loaded their truck. Wade waited on the porch. Two calves scampered back and forth along the wooden rail corralling them.

“Those new?” he asked Tag.

“Yep. Just bought them from Jed Radcliffe.”

They walked down to Tag’s truck. “Bo and Pep got too big.”

Olivia laughed. “You named your cows Bo and Pep? That’s so cute.”

Tag glowered. “Short for Rambo and George Peppard, leader of the A-Team.”

“Who?” she asked.

“The A-Team? ‘I love it when a plan comes together’? Oh for Pete’s sake. Jake, take your woman home and educate her.”

“Yeah, I’ll do that.” They all got into the truck and took off.

“Meet you at the Tin Star?” Wade asked Tag.

“You got a tapeworm? We just ate breakfast.”

“Funny. That’s where Kristen and Lewis start their day. Just like every other person in Freedom. You wanted me to talk to them.”

“Well, you don’t need me there. I want to talk to Fischer. You head over there. I’ll come meet you in a bit.”

Wade nodded then clambered into his red pickup. The top-of-the-line truck had been a gift to himself two years earlier when an app he created managed to go viral and net him a ridiculous sum of money. His old car had been a beat-up ’99 Mustang on its last tires. Not to mention that Mustangs and men over five feet tall rarely went together. Being six-three meant he perpetually had a goose egg from banging some part of his head getting into the car.

The truck was tall and wide and afforded him plenty of leg- and headroom.

Wade tossed his cell phone in the cupholder then waved to Tag as he put the truck into reverse and turned around on the rough dirt that passed for Tag’s driveway.

As he bumped down the grooves and ruts, his mind shifted to Jake, Hudson, and Olivia. He was happy for his friends. He was also a bit envious, which he freely admitted to himself but probably wouldn’t to anyone else. His personal life rarely had any sort of excitement and certainly nothing as exotic as a permanent threesome.

His cell chirped and he smiled as he swooped up the phone. “Hey, kiddo, how’s it going?”

“Hi, Dad. Guess what?”

Excitement rang in his son Riley’s voice. “What?”

“I made the team. It’s only JV though.”

Wade picked up on the worry in the fourteen-year-old’s tone. “JV is great, Riley. I’m proud of you.”

“Thanks, Dad.” Riley’s voice again bloomed with glee. “I’m a forward just like you. And guess what else?”

Wade shifted the phone to his other ear. “What’s that?”

“I asked Coach if I could wear number fifteen and he said yes.”

A swell of emotion choked Wade. “You asked for that?”

“Yeah,” Riley said. “Just like yours, Dad.”

“That’s quite an honor, son. Thank you.”

“You bet. Hey, you think you can come watch me play sometime? I mean, I know it’s like a jillion miles away and school will be starting for you soon. But maybe think about it, ’kay? I’ll e-mail you my schedule.” Riley talked faster and faster. “We’re taking team pictures tomorrow and I gotta get my hair cut. Coach says no hair longer than the collar, which kinda stinks for Johnson Carter ’cause his is like down to his shoulder blades. He’s been growing it since we were in first grade and stuff. But anyway, I’ll send you some pictures, too, ’kay?”

Wade pulled into a spot at the Tin Star just as his son wound down his breath-defying dissertation. He chuckled at Riley’s exuberance. “I can’t wait to see you in your uniform, kiddo. I will definitely make plans to come see you play. I wouldn’t miss it.”

“Oh, but Dad, you can’t.”

Wade shut off the engine as an unexpected pang hit his chest. “You don’t want me to?”

“No,
no
. ’Course I do. But you’re the coach down there. You can’t leave your team to come all the way to California to watch me.”

A short, barrel-chested man in light khakis and a button-up short-sleeved shirt walked down the sidewalk toward the Tin Star. Sunlight glinted off the man’s blond hair when he doffed his bowler hat to Sadie and Hank. He held the door as they entered the restaurant then followed them in.

“Hey, that’s what assistant coaches are for, Riley,” Wade told his son. “I promise you I’ll come see you in a game. Nothing will keep me away.”

“That will be so cool, Dad. Awesome.”

The excitement had returned. Wade couldn’t help but grin in response. He saw Riley as often as he could and had only just sent him back to his mother after a month.

“I think you left your game charger, Riley.”

“Yeah,” the boy sighed. “I figured that out at the airport.”

“You’ve been home two weeks. Why didn’t you call? I just found it yesterday. Along with the piles of socks and paper plates you stashed under your bed.”

“Oops,” Riley said. “Sorry.”

“Don’t worry, I took care of it. I’ll put your charger in the mail.”

“’Kay. Mom wants to talk to you.”

“Wade?” The soft, sweet voice of Grace Jennings filled the air waves.

“Hi, Grace,” he said. “How are you? How’s Rich?”

“Good,” she said. “Thanks for asking. Do you really think you’ll be able to make a game?”

She wasn’t being sarcastic or snarky, just inquisitive. Living on opposite sides of the country made spontaneous get-togethers with Riley difficult. Not impossible, though.

“I will. He’s going to send me the schedule. I’ll put in my vacation request as soon as I get it.”

“He’ll love that.”

She cleared her throat and he tensed.

“What’s wrong, Grace?” He shoved open the truck door and headed for the Tin Star.

“Nothing’s wrong,” she said. Her voice dropped. “We haven’t told Riley yet. I wanted to let you know first.”

Wade stopped in the middle of the sidewalk. Anxiety pierced his heart. “Let me know what? Is Riley okay?”

“Yes, yes. Oh God, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to worry you.” Another deep breath. “I’m pregnant,” she blurted out.

Of all the things his ex-girlfriend could have said, pregnant would not have been high on his list. She’d had a miserable pregnancy with Riley and vowed no more kids after he’d been born.

“Uh, congratulations?”

She laughed. “Yes, congratulations. Oddly enough this one hasn’t been so bad. I haven’t been sick at all.”

“Glad to hear it.”

“Good. That’s really good.”

It occurred to him that she was worried about his reaction. “Hey,” he said softly. “You’re one of my best friends. Of course I’m happy for you and Rich. Now go on, go tell kiddo. He’ll be delighted.”

“You think so?”

Wade smiled. “Yeah. He’s been bugging me for a little brother or sister for years. Thank God you’re taking care of that. Maybe he’ll leave me alone now.”

Grace’s laughter burst from the phone, forcing him to hold the receiver away as he approached the door. He put it back in time to hear her say good-bye.

“Bye,” he replied then clicked off the phone and shoved it in his pocket.

He pulled open the door to the Tin Star and worked to rid himself of his broad grin. While he really was happy for his ex and her new husband, he had a job to do. No kids would take him seriously if he tried to lay down the law while grinning like an idiot.

He squared his shoulders and stepped into the Tin Star.

* * * *

“I’m sorry, Mr. Gaughan.” Rebecca Lyons folded her hands on the desktop and looked at the well-dressed man in front of her. “I can’t take your case.”

One of his well-manicured black brows lifted. He appeared to wrinkle his forehead but the tight skin failed to move significantly.

“I beg your pardon?” He spoke in an even, well-modulated tone.

Pasquale Gaughan had the full package. He had money, dressed smartly, and was groomed to within an inch of his buffed nails and neatly trimmed hair. His strong profile would surely melt the heart of many a juror. In essence, the man was the perfect client to defend.

Except he is guilty.

She shuffled the private investigator’s report on her desk before stacking the papers neatly and sliding them into a manila folder marked with his name. The report was an unnecessary confirmation of what her sixth sense already told her. The man was definitely guilty.

“I said I cannot defend you. I’m sorry. I can give you the names of several other very reputable attorneys who will do a good job for you though.” She pressed a button on her phone.

“Yes, Miss Lyons?” Deidre Gillette’s voice echoed crisply over the line.

“Would you please print out the list you prepared for Mr. Gaughan? He will pick it up on his way out.”