Taking the Reins (Roped and Wrangled) (25 page)

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Authors: Kat Murray

BOOK: Taking the Reins (Roped and Wrangled)
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“They’re on the way!” Bea called cheerfully from the side of the house. “This is way better than drinks and girls night out!”
“Shut up, Bea,” Peyton muttered, though there was no way her sister could hear. “Wanna start talking now, Nylen, or wait until you have a bigger audience?”
“Nothing to say.”
“Oh, I can guess.” Peyton stared at the house for a moment. “Looking for something you left behind when I fired you?”
He stayed silent.
“Or did you just miss us that much? Miss being paid for doing nothing while skimming money from the business?” Peyton shook her head. “Sorry for you, but you wouldn’t have found the books anyway. I warned you, didn’t I? You piss me off, and I’ll take everything I know to the police. Leave quietly and it will all be forgotten. Guess what option I’m going with now?”
Nylen replied, but his words were lost beneath the sound of a siren in the quiet night.
“Ah, here’s your ride now.” Peyton headed to the front of the house to greet whichever responder had made it to them first.
“Man to man, let’s have a quick chat,” Red said casually. “Was it you that planted the idea in my father’s head about Peyton and me?”
Nylen snickered and wheezed. “Your father’s a gullible idiot.”
“No argument there.”
“He grabbed at the idea of searching your place for cash, maybe even soaking you for more. Then he had to go and blow it and let the story loose too soon. Damn man couldn’t even be a proper scapegoat.” He spat once more, glaring at Red like he was the one in the wrong. “She should have hired me back.”
Red shook his head sadly. “You don’t give her enough credit. That’s your problem, Nylen. Assuming Peyton’s just like her mama. She’s smart, she’s gutsy, and she’s got discerning taste.”
“She’s rocking the bed frame with you. Can’t be too discerning.”
That snide comment earned him a bounce from Tiny’s large body. “Just keep digging your hole deeper, Nylen. Just keep digging.” Tiny patted his head.
Peyton’s voice sounded. “They’re around here. Hard to see but . . . there.”
A bright light swept the area, momentarily blinding Red. Holding a hand up to shield his eyes, he saw Peyton standing with a sheriff’s deputy, pointing in their direction. He gave a little wave, then stood up.
“What do we have here?” The deputy walked up and squatted down next to Nylen’s body.
“Finally. Took you long enough.” Nylen spit out a bit of dirt. “These men attacked me, held me hostage. They need to be arrested.”
The deputy glanced between Red and Bill, now holding a bandana to his nose, and Tiny who was brushing dirt from his hands with an innocent
who, me?
look on his face. “Yeah. They sure look ferocious. How about you tell me why you’re on private property when you weren’t invited first? Then I’ll get to your so-called attackers.”
Nylen sputtered and sat up, but the deputy quickly cuffed him and hauled him up onto his feet.
“Uh huh, okay, sure.” The man led him to his car, which was parked with its light still flashing in front of the main house. “So you’re going with the fact that you drove out here, intoxicated, and attempted to enter a residence you never lived in. By accident.” He laughed. “That’s a new one. I’ll have to write that down.”
After assisting Nylen—whose low mutters sounded suspiciously like the words “entrapment” and “assault”—into the back of the car, he set up a time to come by the next morning and get statements from Billy, Red, and Peyton.
Red’s turn was last, and he knew he had a choice to make. Cover up for his father—again—and let the pattern of his childhood chase him into the future. Or put his boot down and stop playing into it and give his future a fighting chance.
No contest. He chose the future.
Chapter Twenty-two
A
s the deputy’s car drove down the gravel drive to the main road, Red’s phone buzzed in his pocket and he checked. Trace. “What’s up?”
“Is it safe to come out yet?” he asked, voice harsh with frustration.
“Yeah, yeah. Sorry. Bring the kid. It’s fine.” In the confusion and action, Red had forgotten he’d all but ditched Trace back at his place. “Head over to the main house, we’re all here now. I’ll explain when you get here.”
He hung up and watched as Bea took Billy into the house, rubbing his back with a soothing hand.
“Let’s get that nose cleaned up in the kitchen. We can make sure you don’t need to see the doctor.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Even with a bloody nose, the kid looked like he was in heaven with her tender care and attention focused on him. A regular Florence Nightingale come to life. Red shook his head, amused. What were the teen years without a few unrealistic crushes and heartbreaks along the way?
And then there were two. Red watched Peyton shuffle her feet in the dust, stick her hands in her pockets, look anywhere but at him.
Speaking of heartbreak . . .
Red smiled, fighting the urge to grab her, toss her over his shoulder and storm back to his place for a come to Jesus moment. “Guess we figured out who’s been snooping through my stuff.”
“Guess so.” Her voice was distant, and she wouldn’t look at him.
“Peyton . . .” He ran a hand through his hair, gripping the ends and pulling. Didn’t clear his head nearly as fast as he’d hoped. “I’m sorry.”
“Sorry?” She did look at him now, surprise filling her wide eyes. “For what?”
“It was my father who started all this. Played Nylen’s pawn.”
Her eyes widened, but he plowed on without waiting for her comments.
“I caught him snooping around the other night. Chased him off, and was trying to figure out how to tell you. I should have said something sooner.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Yes, you should have.”
No excuse for it. “Then tonight, I saw his truck at the end of the drive. He drove Nylen here.”
Her lips curved. “Are you going to mention that to the police?”
He wiped a hand over his brow, pushing back his hair. “Would you let me make the choice?”
“Yes,” she whispered.
Hope bloomed in his chest. “Well, I already chose to say something. I added it to my statement to the deputy. What they do with it, I can’t control. But I’ll do what I can to make sure he’s never close to you, or the ranch, again. And I’m so . . .” He turned to look out at the sky, turned back again and swallowed hard. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to bring this to you.”
She shook her head. “Not your fault. God knows, I know enough about the sins of the parent not being the child’s load to bear. Sylvia taught me that much. Probably the only thing she did teach me. We’re responsible for ourselves.”
Promising. He chanced a step toward her and she didn’t back away. “He might spread it around about us. People would know.”
“People already know. I learned that much in town tonight. This evening was very . . . educational.” She shrugged. “It’s out.”
Despite her casual stance and nonchalant tone of voice, he could see it hurt. The fact that people would think poorly of her, less of her. “I’m sorry.”
“I made my choice. And I’m coming around to accepting the consequences.” She took a deep breath and pushed back some hair that fell over her eyes. He smiled at the frustrated gesture. The outside package might be all woman, but the inside was pure tomboy. Just how he liked her.
“So where does that leave us?”
Peyton bit her lip and shrugged. “I—”
“Peyton!”
She cut off, and they both looked over to see Trace hustling over the dirt driveway as fast as he could without jostling Seth on his shoulder. He stepped up and reached around her with his free arm, pulling her in close for a hug. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. Red and Billy had it all settled before I could even get in any of the action.” She sounded so disgruntled and put out by the fact that she didn’t get to swing at Nylen, Red had to laugh.
“Sorry to ruin the fun. I was a little busy making sure the bastard didn’t get away.” Red smiled. “Next time, I’ll let you have a turn.”
“Thank you.”
Trace looked back and forth between them. “So is someone going to clue me in on what happened?”
Peyton laughed shortly. “Forgot you’ve been in the dark. It was Nylen.” She shot a quick glance at Red, but didn’t mention his father. Protecting him? “We’ll talk about it more, but he’s in custody and the major threat is gone.”
“But—”
“Later,” Peyton said firmly. She turned to smooth a hand over Seth’s head, and her voice softened as she spoke to the child. “Hey, guy. Lot of action past your bedtime, huh? Soon enough you’ll be running around here with the rest of these boys, fighting crime.”
“Not likely.” When Seth cooed, Trace jiggled him a little. “Let’s head to bed, little man. Auntie Peyton’s got some business to attend to out here.” With a significant glance Red’s way, Trace headed into the house behind Bea and Billy.
And then, once more, they were alone.
Red figured he had two choices. He could walk away and pretend that nothing had happened and keep his pride intact. Or he could ask her for another chance, fight for the opportunity. Beg if necessary, pride be damned.
No choice, really. What was pride without the woman he loved? A cold consolation. But before he dropped to his knees, Peyton’s hand landed on his shoulder.
“Go home, Red.”
What? “No. We need to talk.”
“We will. I just need . . .” She sighed. “Time. I need some time. So much in the last few hours to process. Too much. Give me just a little bit.”
He had the distinct idea that walking away now would be the mistake of a lifetime. “Peyton, I can’t just walk away right now. Process it with me.”
“Give me time.” Her answer was firm, unyielding. He’d say that much for his Peyton. She made up her mind, and it was set in concrete. Stubborn woman.
And wasn’t that one of the things he loved about her?
He battled once more against the urge to pull that
hauling her over his shoulder
trick. But if pushing her to talk now would be a bad idea, kidnapping her caveman style would just be the last nail in their coffin. With every muscle in his body screaming in protest, Red stepped back and headed toward his apartment.
He’d give her time. But not much. Because he wasn’t about to leave his woman with the idea that they wouldn’t be together in the end for long.
 
Peyton watched Red’s figure disappear in the night and rubbed at her forehead. Damn, this was a mess. The entire thing, from Nylen down to poor Billy’s nose and back up again to her . . . whatever with Red.
Relationship? She wanted to call it that. But . . .
No. No buts anymore. First to see about her family. As she entered through the front door, Bea stood, arms crossed, foot tapping in her too-high heel. Peyton raised a brow at her sister’s obviously impatient stance. “What?”
Bea pointed at the door. “Go.”
“Go where? It’s almost midnight.”
“Are you really going to make him wait until tomorrow?” Bea frowned. “Are you going to make yourself wait?”
Peyton wanted to rub at her head again, but resisted. “Yes. I need to . . .”
“Think? Thinking’s what got you into this mess. If you had just done what Jo said and not cared at all what everyone else thought, then people would already be moving on, and not caring right back. Problem solved.”
“You know, for someone whose entire career revolves around what people think of her, you sure are pushy about this.”
“I know what I’m doing, then.” Bea tossed her head, short hair fluttering around her neck. “I’m an expert.”
“So you’re saying I should not think?”
Bea smiled and performed a slow, mocking clap. “Exactly. The pupil, she learns. Now go.”
Peyton could ignore her. Bea might be taller, but Peyton had more muscle. Shouldering past her and heading upstairs to her own bed would be no challenge.
But she didn’t want her own bed. She wanted Red.
Dammit. Pointing a finger up, she scowled. “This does
not
mean you were right. It just means I’m changing my mind.”
Before she could slam the door behind her, Bea’s laughter rang in her ears, the sound haunting her all the way across the ranch.
 
Red’s head hit the door the moment it closed behind him. By his watch, he had about four hours of worthless sleep ahead of him before the start of the workday. Four hours to obsess over what the hell he was going to say to Peyton to make her change her mind. Make her let him stay. Give them a chance.
His body jerked in surprise when someone knocked on the wood panel behind his back. Whirling, he opened the door and prayed his eyes weren’t playing tricks. “Peyton?”
She smiled hesitantly, then the smile slid off her face. “Bad time?”
He realized he was looming over the doorway like a guardian. “No, no. Just surprised. It’s never a bad time. Come on—” The rest of his sentence was smothered by her lips, her body, her everything pressed against his.
Red might be a lot of things, but stupid wasn’t one of them. He wasn’t about to continue talking when kissing worked even better. He grabbed hold, twirled her around and closed the door behind them. Peyton all but climbed up his body, legs squeezing around him, and he gripped her thighs and carried her to the bed.
But as he lowered her down on her back, a warning flashed in his mind. He raised his head from hers and looked her in the eyes. “This isn’t good-bye sex, right?”
“What?” Peyton stared, openmouthed, then cracked up laughing. “Good-bye sex? Are you going to turn me away if I say yes?”
“No.” He grinned, feeling more confident now. “I’d just make it last a damn long time. Long enough to have you changing your mind.”
“I don’t need it changed. I did that on my own.” She gripped either side of his face and tugged him down until her breath fanned against his lips. “I want you. Us. If people don’t like that, or make a big deal about it, then that’s their problem.”
“Even if it costs you business?”
“It won’t,” she said firmly. “I’ve got a failsafe plan.”
“What’s that?”
“You.” She kissed him quick and hard.
He lengthened the kiss, deepened what she tried to keep shallow. “So I’m being used for my skills.”
“Well, I can’t deny you know how to . . . ride.” She emphasized her words with a pulse of her hips up until she brushed against his erection.
He rolled until she was on top of him, straddling him. “I’m a better coach. How about you take a turn in the saddle.”
She reached for the buttons on his jeans, then stopped. One hand pushed her hair back from her face, the other tracing the ridge of her jeans by her knee. “I love you.”
The words, unexpected, sweet and pure, struck him right through the heart. “Thank God.” Flipping them again, he leaned over her on his elbows. “Thank God,” he muttered against her neck, nuzzling until she shifted restlessly. “Thank you, God.” He pressed kisses down her collarbone, pushing aside the collar of her shirt.
“Is that all you can say?”
“What was I supposed to say? Okay!” he shouted on a laugh as she tugged on his hair. “Okay. Uncle.” When she soothed the sting with her nails, scratching at his scalp, he leaned into the touch. “I love you, too. I fought it, and I avoided you like the plague because I knew we’d end up here. Somehow, I knew it’d come to this, and my heart wouldn’t hold out against you.”
“I thought you were just an arrogant, elitist jerk.”
“I might still be.” When her brows dropped, he kissed her nose. “But I’m
your
arrogant, elitist jerk. Isn’t that so much better?”
She sighed and laughed. “Shockingly, I think it might be.” One finger traced behind his ear, down his neck and toyed with the hollow of his throat. “Got any plans for the rest of the night?”
With one last roll, he positioned her on top once more. “Take the reins, Peyton. We’ve got until morning.”

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