Wild West Fortune Page 5

  Jayden sipped the coffee. Grimacing, he got up to get some milk from the refrigerator. Usually, he liked his coffee black, but Nathan made the worst coffee in the world. “I don’t know how she knew about us. Doesn’t matter, anyway. I told her the truth. Mom made up the name when she had us.” He dumped milk into the mug, then added a spoonful of sugar. “When did you get back from OK City?”

  “Ten minutes before I saw that dinky red car sitting on its side.”

  Jayden was the eldest of his brothers by a matter of minutes. “You shouldn’t have been driving in this weather.”

  Nathan gave him a look. “Dude.”

  “I don’t care if you used to be a SEAL or not. It was stupid.” He glanced up at the ceiling when the sound of the shower cut off.

  He’d put a clean towel in the bathroom for Ariana to use. About now, she’d be running the pale blue terry cloth over that sexy little butterfly. Then, when she was all nice and dry, she’d be pulling on a pair of his sweatpants and one of his T-shirts.

  He buried his nose in his coffee mug, taking a big swig of the nasty stuff. He choked it down and it was almost enough to overpower the images in his head. He should have found something for her to wear from his mother’s closet. It would have made more sense. And he wouldn’t be thinking about her skin, bare and soft, beneath his own clothes.

  Banishing the image, he asked his brother, “Did you notice any other damage around the place?”

  “Barn’s damaged on the north side, but the roof’s intact. Horses were restless, but okay. Haven’t checked anywhere else. I saw your truck. When I realized you weren’t in the barn or the house—” His brother didn’t finish. Just shrugged.

  He didn’t need to finish. Nathan had come looking for Jayden. Period. Everything else could wait.

  Through the window over the sink, he could see Ariana’s car. The wind was finally gone, but the rain showed no sign of slowing. Rivers of water had formed, crisscrossing the saturated ground around the storm cellar.

  Well beyond the cellar was the barn. Only the corner of it was visible from where he stood. He was glad the barn roof was okay. But even gladder that the horses were okay. Property damage was bad enough without adding damage to their livestock.

  “We’ll need to check the rest of the stock,” he said.

  “I’ve spent enough time in the water for today. I never saw any cows flying through the air, so I figure it can wait until the rain lets up.”

  His brother hadn’t been joking. Still, Jayden found himself smiling a little. “Weird, isn’t it?”

  “What?”

  “You went to the navy. I went to the army. Neither one of us wanted to be here.”

  “And we both came back,” Nathan finished the thought.

  Jayden knew why he’d come back. So far, though, Nathan wasn’t saying much about his reasons. Since he himself didn’t feel inclined to talk about his military separation, his brother’s similar silence didn’t strike him as particularly unusual.

  “We should check and make sure there are no broken windows in the house.”

  “That your way of getting rid of me so you can go on about entertaining your...journalist?”

  He’d never known not having brothers. But there were moments when the idea was more than a little appealing. He lifted a brow and looked over the coffee mug.

  Nathan didn’t bother hiding his amusement. “Hey. I think it’s great. About time you showed some of the old Jayden spirit.” But he pushed away from the table anyway. Like Jayden, he’d already changed into dry jeans and a shirt. “I’ll check this floor. You can check upstairs.”

  It hadn’t been Jayden’s plan to go upstairs anytime soon. Keeping a little distance between him and Ariana didn’t sound appealing, but he knew it was only smart.

  She’d been panicking in the storm cellar. Before he’d fallen for Tess, he’d been no saint when it came to women. But taking advantage of the situation with Ariana like he had was all sorts of wrong.

  Not that he had even been thinking real straight at the time. Soon as she had tried undoing his belt, his resistance had been laughable. And when she’d come apart the way she had—

  “Jayden?”

  He jerked slightly, realizing that his brother had left the kitchen and Ariana had entered it. And the way she was looking at him made him suspect she’d been there for more than just a second.

  He dumped the rest of the undrinkable coffee down the sink, trying not to dwell on the way the V-neck of the white undershirt he’d loaned her hung off one of her bare shoulders. On her, the shirt was loose, thank God. Way too loose to give any hint of the gorgeous breasts he knew were beneath.

  “Shower okay?”

  Her wet hair was slicked back from her face and twisted in a thick braid down the center of her back. “Yes, thank you.” She held up the towel in her arms and he realized she’d wrapped it around her wet clothes. “Do you have a washer and dryer I could use?”

  “Sorry. I should have thought of that already.” His wet clothes were still lying in a heap on the floor in his bedroom.

  “Why?” Her face was shiny and clean, yet she still had the thickest, darkest eyelashes he’d ever seen. And they surrounded the brownest gaze he’d ever fallen into. “We’ve both had a little distraction lately.” She moistened her lips. “What with the, uh, storm. So—” She lifted the bundle slightly.

  “Laundry room’s back here.” He led the way from the kitchen to the mudroom in the back where the washer and dryer sat. “Grayson bought ’em for my mom a few years ago, so they’re fairly new.” His neck went a little hot. Like he was bragging or something.

  She slid around him and pulled open the washing machine. “Grayson?”

  “My other brother. He’s gone a lot. Rides rodeo.”

  She chuckled. “There’s a famous rodeo rider who goes by just Grayson.”

  At his silence, she looked up at him.

  His neck felt even hotter.

  “Wait a sec. Your brother?” She looked astonished. “He’s The Grayson?”

  “Guess you’ve heard of him.”

  “Well, yeah. One of my coworkers does a blog for Weird Life entirely devoted to rodeo. She never stops talking about it.”

  “Blog?”

  “Online journal. You know.”

  “I guess. Never been particularly interested in that sort of thing. And around here...no internet.”

  “Except for at the library.”

  He smiled slightly. “Right.” He reached above her head to open the cabinet. “Soap and stuff. Use whatever you need.”

  She shook her wet things out of the towel into the machine. Thin excuse for a shirt. Jeans. One red sock. One blue sock. A tiny scrap of something white that caught on the edge of the machine before she flicked it inside with the towel and hastily closed the door.

  He looked at her bare feet below the rolled-up legs of the sweatpants he’d provided. For some reason, he’d expected her toenails to be painted some bright, shocking color. But they were naked. No color at all.

  And who knew why, but the sight of her entirely naked feet turned him on all over again.

  God, he was a head case.

  “I should check for storm damage upstairs,” he said abruptly. And take his own damn shower. An icy one. “You need anything else?”

  She looked a little startled. “I appreciate everything you’ve already done,” she said swiftly. “I’ll be fine. Do what you need to do.” She tugged at the neckline of the shirt, pulling it up her shoulder where it promptly slid right back down again. “Go.”

  “Look, about what happened—”

  She shrugged, which sent the shirt sliding even farther. She reached up to snatch the oversized bottle of laundry soap from the cupboard. “There’s no reason to talk about it. We’re t
wo consenting adults—” Her eyes rounded and she gave him a quick look. “And unattached adults...right?”

  “I sure hope so.” Tess hadn’t been unattached at all. She’d just neglected to share that fact with Jayden.

  Ariana looked away from him again, nodding. “So, no harm, no foul. It’s not like we, uh, actually—” She broke off and cleared her throat slightly. “You know.”

  Not for lack of wanting, he answered silently. Particularly after she’d writhed against him the way she had, making the sexiest sounds he’d ever heard. Sounds that were sure to haunt his sleep for some time to come.

  “I mean, I don’t sleep with men I don’t know,” she added. She filled the soap dispenser and jabbed a few buttons on the front of the fancy machine. “I imagine you’re more discriminating than that, too.”

  He took the heavy soap bottle from her and replaced it in the cabinet. “I don’t sleep with men I don’t know, either.”

  “Sweetie,” she drawled sweetly without missing a beat, “if you swing both ways, I’m not going to judge.”

  He let out a bark of laughter. “Do you?”

  Her face was rosy, belying her seemingly bold expression. “As a matter of fact, I don’t, but—”

  “Neither do I,” he assured her. “I like women.” Despite his better intentions, he moved closer to her. Crowding her back against the machine. Standing close enough to smell the minty toothpaste on her breath and inhale the warmth from her smooth skin. “Particularly the one I’m looking at right now.”

  Her lips parted like she was struggling to breathe. He knew she wasn’t, though, because he could feel the rise and fall of her breasts against him just fine.

  “You smell like toothpaste.”

  “I didn’t use your toothbrush or anything.” Her voice was faint. “I...made do without.”

  He wasn’t sure he’d have cared all that much if she had used his toothbrush. “Sweetheart, I was in the army a long time. I know all about making do. I am a little sorry my brother found us when he did,” he murmured. “Another hour—”

  “Hour?” She pressed her lips together again and looked away. Her cheeks were even redder.

  “Okay.” He smiled slightly. “Fifteen minutes.”

  She let out a breathy laugh and shook her head. She crossed her arms between them. He didn’t have the heart to tell her that only plumped up her creamy, butterfly-kissed breasts, making them plainly visible for him within the neck of the loose shirt.

  “I thought you had things you needed to do,” she prompted.

  He nodded. “Things I should do.” Because he couldn’t resist, he grazed his knuckle across that small butterfly. “Things I want to do.”

  She inhaled sharply. Her eyes met his.

  A noise from the kitchen startled them both.

  “There you are.” Nathan stepped into the mudroom with a bland look that didn’t fool Jayden for a second.

  His brother always did have a twisted sense of humor. And impeccably annoying timing.

  “Window in Mom’s room needs to be boarded up,” he said, pulling out the toolbox from where it was stashed in a bottom cabinet. “I wiped up the water already, so hopefully the wood floor’ll be okay.”

  Ariana had looked down at her feet. She shifted slightly.

  Jayden stifled a sigh. “Plywood’s in the barn. I’ll get it.” If he didn’t have a cold shower, he guessed the still-falling rain outside would do the job just as well.

  * * *

  Ariana chewed the inside of her lip, staring at the screen of her cell phone.

  It was useless. She could get it to turn on, but it just as quickly turned itself right back off. And she didn’t know if that was because the battery was dead or because of the soaking it had gotten in the storm cellar.

  She tossed it onto the nightstand and threw back the sheet, pushing off the bed. It was his mother’s room, Jayden had told her. She’d protested, but he’d insisted. Deborah Fortune was gone for the week, anyway. Off with Grayson. Evidently she acted somewhat as his third brother’s manager when he was touring.

  Then Nathan had chimed in with that strangely unholy innocent look he seemed to possess, saying that Ariana could either use their mother’s room or she could use Jayden’s.

  She could envision sleeping in Jayden’s bed all too easily. Which was—as she had to keep reminding herself—completely out of the question.

  So Mrs. Fortune’s bedroom would have to do.

  Even though Ariana wanted to, she couldn’t look out the window, because the two men had already boarded it up, along with several more around the house. Then, after they were satisfied with their makeshift repairs, Jayden had dumped a loaf of bread and a collection of sandwich meats on the table for supper.

  Now it was the middle of the night.

  The rain had finally stopped. The house was dark and quiet.

  And she was ensconced in the bedroom of the woman who might have been—if the article from the Austin History Center was on the mark—the cause of the broken heart Gerald had supposedly been nursing when he’d met Charlotte.

  She paced around the bedroom.

  It wasn’t large. There was the bed, modestly sized and covered with a faded quilt. Below the boarded-up window was a set of dresser drawers. A tall, narrow chest stood against another wall. There was a lamp on the single nightstand, and that was it. Plenty of framed photographs were scattered around—all of them featuring her sons.

  It was easy to pick out which ones were Jayden. The army uniform helped when he was wearing it, but even without it, Ariana was already able to tell him apart from his brothers. It wasn’t just the scar on his brow or that slightly crooked cuspid. It was an attitude that sat on his shoulders.

  She picked up the largest photo of the three brothers. They were just summertime kids, grinning into the camera. Skinny, bare chests and lanky legs stretched out beneath swimming trunks. But even then, that attitude seemed to shine from the boys’ faces.

  Jayden’s was challenging.

  She was pretty sure it was Nathan on the left of Jayden. In one sense looking like butter wouldn’t melt in his mouth and in another sense like he held that stick of butter behind his back. Which left Grayson as the boy on Jayden’s right. Smiling head-on into the camera with a smile that already packed a lot of wattage.

  What had their life been like, growing up in Paseo? Three sons with no father. On a ranch that was basically in the middle of nowhere. In a house that was certainly comfortable but by no means lavish.

  Without question, it had to have been the very antithesis of what it had been like for Gerald and Charlotte’s children, growing up at their palatial estate in Austin.

  She set down the picture frame and pressed her lips together.

  The idea of hunting around Deborah Fortune’s bedroom for some hint that she’d known Gerald before he’d become Gerald had already occurred to Ariana. And she’d dismissed it.

  For one, she wasn’t that unethical. For two, she figured the odds were minuscule anyway of Jayden’s mom keeping something around that would identify her sons’ father, since she had never told them who he was in the first place.

  Ariana picked up her phone again and tried once more to power it up. Not that it would do her any good, anyway. If there wasn’t a strong enough signal to make a phone call, there certainly wasn’t a strong enough signal to send an email or get online.

  Feeling frustrated and hemmed in, she left the phone on the bedside table and quietly opened the bedroom door, stepping out into the dark hall. Deborah’s room was on the main floor of the house. The rest of the bedrooms were upstairs and she was fairly certain Jayden and his brother had gone to bed some time ago.

  Still, she didn’t want to chance disturbing anyone as she crept barefoot down the hall toward the faint light coming fr
om the kitchen. It was empty when she got there, though the light over the stove had been left on just as Jayden had said it would be. Sugar’s bed was empty and the room was cooler than it had been earlier. Probably because of the breeze she could feel drifting through the wooden screen door.

  Feeling thirsty, she took one of the mugs hanging below an upper cupboard and filled it with water. She stood there at the sink and drank it, looking out at the sight of her tipped-on-its-side car.

  She still didn’t want to think about all of her research notes being lost. If they’d scattered in the wind, the rain would have surely ruined them.

  She chewed the inside of her lip, then abruptly set the mug in the sink and quickly returned to the bedroom. Her clothes were dry from when she’d laundered them earlier, but she was still wearing the oversized T-shirt Jayden had loaned her. It practically reached her knees and she’d justified that it served as a good nightshirt.

  But mostly, she just hadn’t wanted to take it off, enjoying too much the feel of his shirt against her.

  She made a face at the dampness still clinging to her suede boots when she pulled them on. She’d already decided not to snoop through Deborah Fortune’s room, and opening the woman’s closet to see if there were some shoes to borrow felt almost as invasive. So Ariana’s own damp boots would have to do.

  She walked on her tiptoes back to the kitchen and, as quietly as she could, let herself out of the house through the wooden screen door.

  The air smelled wet, and the breeze tugged at her hair and the hem of the T-shirt around her thighs. There wasn’t much moonlight, but as her eyes adjusted, she could tell that the layer of clouds overhead had broken up enough to let an occasional star shine through.

  Hoping that she wouldn’t step in a big puddle of mud, she picked her way to the car, slowly circling it until she was standing by the roof.

  Not entirely sure what to expect, she set the flat of her hand on the roof and gave a cautious push.

  If the car had been likely to tip back onto its wheels or, heaven forbid, roll right onto its roof, it probably would have done so when Nathan had pulled it away from the cellar door using the winch on Jayden’s truck.