Broken (Brody Brothers Book 4) Page 24

  “Grab more than just one outfit then, if it bothers you so much,” he called after her, and she could hear the shrug in his voice. “Hell, grab your whole damn closet, for all I care. You’re going to be spending all your free time over at my place anyway, so you might as well go all in.”

  She turned to look back at him, her heart stuck between beats. “I am?”

  “You are.” He kept his gaze steady on hers, and his words sounded more like an order than a response. “Now hurry up and get your shit packed. I can’t wait to get us home.”

  “Okay,” she said softly, while her heart took wing at that one word.

  Home.

  Chapter Eighteen

  The deep reverberation of thunder brought Des’s eyes open to find his bedroom cloaked in predawn gloom. Beside him, Winnie lay on her side, her back curled against his chest, her hair spilled out all around her.

  No storybook princess had ever looked more beautiful.

  Or more fuckable.

  Another rumble that was more felt than heard brought his attention to the floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking Lone Sentinel Butte. For a moment he couldn’t figure out why it seemed so damn dark, and he reached over for his phone charging beside the bed to check the time.

  Quarter to seven.

  Holy hell. He’d overslept.

  No surprise there. He and Winnie had stayed up way past midnight as she did exactly what she’d promised to do, and had explored every damn inch of him, first with her eyes. Then her hands. Then her mouth.

  Best. Night. Ever.

  But why was it so dark?

  He glanced out the window again, and this time noted that the top of Lone Sentinel Butte was engulfed in low clouds.

  Clouds?

  It had been so long since he’d seen them he’d almost forgotten what they looked like.

  The phone he held vibrated, and with a regretful sigh he carefully rolled out of bed, making sure not to disturb Winnie, before hitting the right button. “Hold on a sec,” he whispered to his brother Fin, grabbed up the pants he’d worn the night before, and headed down the stairs. “Okay, I can talk now. I know I’m running late but it’s like fucking nighttime outside. You can’t blame me.”

  “Yeah, and you’ve got someone keeping your ass in bed, which is way more fun than bringing the herd in closer to home. Unfortunately, that’s what we need to do, pronto.”

  “What’s going on?” Though all he had to do was look out the window to get a good idea.

  “Storm’s coming, and it’s not a good one. Worse yet, we’ve got a shit-ton of cattle out there that have no idea what the hell a storm is.”

  “Yeah, but that doesn’t mean we should freak out over a little rain.”

  “I’m not talking about rain here, dumbass. In fact, according to the latest weather report, we might not get too much rain at all, if any.”

  His stomach dropped. “Please tell me you’re not talking about a dry thunderstorm.”

  “Yep.”

  “Fuck.” A dry thunderstorm, also known as dry lightning, brought all sorts of hell, from great walls of dust, tornadoes, and the worst thing of all—fire through lightning strikes. Normally their area experienced one or two dry thunderstorms every summer, but not when it hadn’t rained since last year. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

  “Glad you’re getting the picture. So far the majority of the storm’s still in Mexico, but Laredo’s already reporting straight-line winds of over seventy miles per hour with lots of lightning.”

  Again he glanced out the nearest window to the yellowed, sunbaked world beyond. It was a tinderbox for as far as the eye could see. “How bad?”

  “Laredo’s been going through the same shit we’ve been dealing with drought-wise, so basically everything’s on fire. Out of an abundance of caution, they’ve shut the airport down due to all the blowing dust and smoke in the air. Visibility’s in the crapper.”

  “And there’s no rain coming in behind it? Dust storms and lightning strikes wouldn’t be a problem if we just got some goddamn rain.”

  “Supposedly there’s rain coming, but so far no reports of a single drop in Laredo. Just wind, walls of dust, and lots of lightning.”

  “Fuck.” That summed it up perfectly.

  “Listen, I didn’t call you just to play weatherman,” Fin added flatly. “If we get that kind of shit going on in this neck of the woods, we’re going to have a helluva problem on our hands. We’ve got a young herd that’s never experienced any type of crazy weather, thanks to the drought. Do you know what’s going to happen when one cow freaks out over a single clap of thunder?”

  He closed his eyes for a second. Just when he thought the morning couldn’t get any worse. “Stampede.”

  “Yep. And cattle being cattle, they’re going to blast headlong into whatever barbed-wire fencing they come across, or run themselves right over cliffs, or just fucking vanish into the wilderness never to be seen alive again.”

  Quickly Des worked through all contingencies. “We’ve got one helluva lot of cattle to move, brother. We need a game plan, preferably one where we clone ourselves several times over and get going on this yesterday.”

  “Yeah, Mother Nature’s a real bitch, kicking up like this from outta nowhere. And as for a game plan, Killian’s thinking we should split the property into a grid, with each of us taking a section, including Lawrence Ledbetter in a Jeep and Caleb Garrett, along with a couple hands who know how to wrangle.”

  “Lawrence?” That made him smile, if only for a moment. “How’s Lilah taking that? I’m assuming she’s not going to be a part of this roundup.”

  “Nine months pregnant, and my crazy wife wants to at least ride shotgun with her brother Lawrence. Almost died in the last emergency roundup, and yet here she is still wanting to go out there and pitch in. Fuck my life.”

  “Lilah grew up with us along with Lawrence, Fin. She knows how bad ranch life can get out there.”

  “Yeah, well, she can stay planted at the main house where everyone’s gathering so they can tuck the kids safely down in the basement and watch movies and build blanket forts while we try to save our damn livestock. Killian and Dallas are calling in every cowhand they know of to make up the numbers that each team is going to need out there. Considering what we’re willing to pay per head, we should have a small army to get shit done within the next couple of hours. We damn well don’t need pregnant women who’re about to pop with my first-born daughter trying to pitch the fuck in.”

  Ohh-kay. Time for a change of subject. “I’m glad to hear help’s on the way, but it still won’t be enough to get every head of cattle in. A roundup like that takes at least a week.”

  “I’m not worried about getting every single head in, and besides, we have ranch hands to deal with the outlying areas of the property already. Our biggest concern is the most at-risk stock, primarily the yearlings. They’re the ones we need to get moved into pastures with shelters and fences that they can fucking see, even in full-on stampede mode.”

  Again Des went down the mental checklist of potential problems. “If we’re bringing in as much stock as possible to wait out this storm, that means we’re going to have cattle numbering in the thousands. We can’t put them all in the river pastures when we don’t know what this storm’s going to do with the waterways. We put all our eggs in one basket like that, and one flash flood would wipe us out for at least a couple years when it comes to beef cattle.”

  “You’re not telling me shit I don’t already know.”

  “We’ve got wells sunk in the pastures nearest to the main buildings,” he went on, ignoring Fin as he thought it through. “But we don’t get nearly enough water from those wells to accommodate that many cattle all at once. The water tower’s practically empty, so where the hell are we going to get the water to accommodate them all?”

  He heard Fin curse. “Look, one problem at a time, all right? Just get your ass over to the main house so we can figure out who’s doing what.”

&nb
sp; “Lack of water is the first priority we have to deal with,” Des shot back, heading for the laundry room to snag up a clean shirt. “I’ve got an idea on how to handle a good portion of that, but I need to tackle that right away. You guys go on with whatever it is you need to do, and I’ll catch up. Get your all-weather phones out and keep them on you just in case, yeah?”

  He heard Fin sigh. “Fine. I’ll let everyone know you’ll get here when you get here. Just make damn sure you get here before the storm hits.”

  “When is that, exactly?”

  “Radar models all say around midnight tonight. Naturally,” Fin added with a flash of dark humor. “Because everything is so much more fun to manage in the fucking dark.”

  Jesus. “Yeah. Fun. See you.”

  “Des?”

  As he hung up with his brother, Des looked over his shoulder and found Winnie standing on the bottom stair, draped in his shirt from the night before and sleepily trying to smother a yawn. Never had she looked more desirable, just when he didn’t have the time to do anything about it.

  “Hate to say it, baby girl, but I’ve got to hustle us into the shower, then get us dressed and transported over to the main house. Think you can be out the door in less than an hour?”

  In a blink, all vestiges of sleepiness vanished. “If you don’t mind me heading out the door with a head of wet hair. What’s going on?”

  “Ranch life. It’s never dull.” Taking her by the hand, he headed back up the stairs, his mind churning because time was not on their side. But… “You know, we could save time if we showered together.”

  Her eyes widened. “You think showering together wouldn’t, um, slow things down?”

  “I can be quick, and I know you can, too—as long as I finger-bang you first.” With a hot grin, he pulled her up the stairs.

  Wow.

  Standing up.

  Against a wall.

  One foot on the built-in shower bench.

  The other leg wrapped around Des’s waist.

  And it was…

  Wow.

  Just when Winnie was fairly confident she knew all there was to know about sex, Des changed things up and made her see that at least with him, sex was never going to be same old, same old.

  Lucky, lucky her.

  “Oh, God.” Hot water streamed from the rain showerhead above them, and she held on to his wet shoulders and clamped her thighs more tightly. The pleasure was ballooning, and it was so hot, so intense, it was a wonder it didn’t make the water falling on them evaporate. “Des, I’m coming. Oh God, I’m coming…!”

  “I love how noisy you get.” Des pumped his hips harder, making sure that each impact reverberated to that one magical place that sent her soaring. “Always dreamed of fucking you good and proper, but I never imagined all those sweet noises you make when I’m inside you. You could make me come just with a moan.”

  That was enough to push Winnie over the edge, spiraling headlong into sweet shudders of pleasure that had her cries bouncing off the tiled walls. His growls of completion joined hers, his powerful body thrusting hard into her once, twice, three times before at last coming to a breathless halt.

  “That has to be some kind of record.” Smiling, he kissed her deeply before letting her slide back down to earth, her body losing his as she went. He dealt with the condom while she managed to get her legs to work right, then after a quick rinse-off, turned the taps off. “Think we can get out of here in ten minutes?”

  “Not a problem.” It was totally a problem, since she no doubt looked like a drowned rat and it would take at least a couple hours for her hair to dry. But beggars couldn’t be choosers. “As long as you promise not to look my way with those bedroom eyes or touch me with your magic hands, I can pretty much guarantee I’ll be ready. Just don’t distract me.”

  He laughed and gathered her up in a hug that was so sweet, her heart found new levels of happiness. “You’re the one who’s guilty of being a top-level distraction. I don’t think you know how often I have sex with you in my mind.”

  That made her remember what he’d said. “Did you really dream about having sex with me before we got together?”

  In the process of handing her a towel, he raised a brow. “’Course I meant it. I remember as a teenager, I’d go out of my way trying to cross your path to get you to notice me. Should’ve been easy, since you were literally the girl next door, but your fuckwit father guarded you like a junkyard dog. If I’d known what was going on, I would’ve taken you away from that monster, and to hell with everything else.”

  “I should have had the courage to follow you home.” Smiling a little sadly, she wrapped herself up in the towel, then leaned into him when he tried towel-drying her hair. It would make that mess even worse, but it didn’t matter. His touch was so gentle and attentive, all she could do was wallow in the sheer bliss of it. “I wanted to be with you so bad even then, yet I’d never spoken a word to you. I know that sounds weird, but it’s the truth.”

  “It doesn’t sound weird. Not to me.” He pushed the towel down to let it drape around her neck and pulled her so close the only thing she could see was him. “From that first moment I caught sight of you on that school bus so long ago, that Smiley neighbor girl I’d been told to not talk to, it was like a feeling of destiny hit me right between the eyes.”

  “Destiny?”

  “Yeah. Yours and mine, intertwined and locked into place like it was planned for us all along. When I’m inside you, that’s where I belong.”

  The sincerity in his words made her eyes sting. “Des.”

  “I never had a place where I truly belonged, being brought up the way I was. But I do have a place where I belong now.” He caught his hand in the tangle of her hair and pressed his brow to hers in a breathlessly sweet gesture. “You’re my home, baby girl. Tell me you feel it, too.”

  “I do.” That feeling was so immense it threatened to burst her apart from the inside out, and it was so beautiful she couldn’t stop her breath from hitching. “No other man could ever touch me like you do. Your hands have ruined me for anyone but you.”

  “Not ruined.” He swatted her booty oh so lightly in punishment, then grinned against her lips when she gasped. “Spoiled. I love spoiling you, woman. Making you the center of my attention was the best damn decision I’ve ever made.”

  Oh, this perfect, perfect man. “I’m almost scared to be this happy, my Des. Nothing in the world has ever made me as happy as you do. I swear I’ll die if this happiness ever gets taken away from me.”

  “Destiny, remember? Nothing in this world’s going to take away what we’ve got going on. We’re the only ones who can fuck this up, so that’s the one thing we’re never going to do.” He kissed her once more before pulling away. “We now have nine minutes to get dressed and get out of here. Doable?”

  “I have a change of clothes in the overnight bag, so all I need to do is grab it. Where did you put it last night?”

  “Dropped it on my desk. You don’t need makeup or any of that shit,” he added, grabbing the clothes he’d left on the bathroom floor to climb back into them. “You’re perfect as is.”

  Aw, that was sweet. But, since she wasn’t a complete idiot, she heard exactly what he was trying to say. “Don’t worry, I won’t hold you up by doing my makeup here. I’ll try to do my best while we’re in the truck. Hopefully I won’t put my eye out.”

  “That’s my baby girl.” He brushed her temple with his lips and headed out the door. “Gotta go find my damn boots. Eight minutes, by the way.”

  “Thanks, Big Ben.” Nevertheless she hustled to retrieve the bag of clothes and makeup she’d gathered from her apartment, which he’d deposited on his desk in the work area of his loft-style bedroom. Pulling the bag off the desk, a couple photos drifted to the floor. Automatically she bent to gather them back up, only to have her stomach drop when she recognized the overhead shot of Smiley Lake and the surrounding area.

  What…?

  The second ph
oto was from another angle, with a printout paperclipped to it.

  Seven acres in size.

  Natural spring-fed body of water of exceptional quality.

  No Escherichia coli or other microbes or chemical pollutants.

  Approximately ninety million gallons, with a depth of forty feet at its center.

  Several shallow access points including one dock of approximately seventy-years of age.

  What.

  The.

  Hell.

  She glanced at the top of the page for the date. Five days after her father’s funeral. Five days after Des had caught her swimming in the buff.

  Five days.

  Had he been there out at the lake… to collect a water sample?

  At the very bottom of the readout was a note, written in blue ink and in Des’s precise block lettering—Great to skinny-dip in.

  Oh, God.

  Oh, no. No, please, no…

  All this time he’d been methodically compiling facts on Smiley Lake while trying to charm his way into her life.

  Trying, and succeeding.

  What the hell was she supposed to do now?

  “Winsome? You getting dressed, or what?”

  In a single heartbeat in time, Winnie’s fate hung by a thread. It would be so damn easy to pretend she hadn’t seen the photos of Smiley Lake, or the notes clipped to them. She could slip them back onto the desk and tell herself that it had nothing to do with her. With them. She trusted him, in ways she’d never trusted anyone before. They could just go on as if nothing had happened.

  But…

  Something had happened.

  She couldn’t unsee those aerial photos of a property that didn’t belong to Des, any more than she could unhear her grandmother’s words.

  Des could be playing the long game with you.

  That wasn’t what this was, she told herself fiercely, only to see the photos she held start to shake while her stomach cramped with dread. There had to be a logical explanation for those photos to be here, as well as all the research he’d obviously done on Smiley Lake.