Acres, Natalie - Sex Club [Cowboy Sex 5] (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour) (10 page)

“Hey, y’all,” Trixie sang. “Will one of you grab the liquor out of the car? It’s in the backseat. If I’m pulled over, the local policemen will swear I’m bootlegging.”

“I’ll take care of it,” Baron, one of the bouncers, said as soon as he entered the front door.

Trixie tossed him the car keys. “Thanks, Baron.”

By the time she turned around again, Ansley was upon her, sweeping the little bundle of joy straight from her arms. The two women began chatting right away.

“Damn,” Tristan said, deliberately staring and refusing to hide the fact, even when the women turned their attention toward them. “Is it genetic?”

“I take it you haven’t seen their mother,” Bailey muttered.

“No, and at this rate, I probably don’t need to meet her,” Tristan admitted.

“No, bro, you probably don’t. With your history, and mine, it’s best if we concentrate on the available members of the opposite sex.”

Tristan laughed. “No, that’s not what I meant.”

“Care to explain?”

“I’m hooked, man. The last thing I need to do is meet Ansley’s mom, because mothers have good instincts where their daughters are concerned. If I’m around Mrs. Cartwell even for a second, she’ll peg me for a man in love with her daughter.”

“What?” Bailey nearly screeched.

Tristan shrugged. “She’s all I thought about while I was away. She was my first thought before breakfast, my last one before I fell asleep at night. That never happens to me.”

Bailey knew how that felt. He’d fully expected Tristan to feel the same way, and what did he do? Soon after he arrived in Asheville, Bailey called Tristan up, told him to head toward North Carolina, and promised he’d never regret the trip. There was a woman, he’d told him, and she was one gal who would inexplicably change their lives.

* * * *

“He’s cute,” Trixie said, smiling. “Bet he’s one bad boy, huh?”

“I wouldn’t know,” Ansley replied, eyeing Tristan’s ass as he passed their table.

“Hmm,” Trixie mumbled. “He’s already working on those panties, I see. Got ’em in a wad, does he?”

“You know better,” Ansley snipped. Staring down at her niece’s angelic face, Ansley affixed the soft, multicolored pastel blanket around the baby’s shoulders. She ran her fingers over the child’s soft velvet skin. “She’s so beautiful, Trixie.”

“She looks like you and Kimberly.”

“You think so?”

“Of course I do.”

“Why? Because then she’d also look a whole lot like you?” Ansley asked, laughing.

Trixie’s smile widened. “She’s beautiful and healthy, which is most important.”

“Are Rory and Brock crazy about her?” That was a silly question. She could almost picture them now, hovering over her. Poor child wouldn’t stand a chance once she grew into a young woman. Between her grandfathers and her fathers, not to mention her big brother, Winter wouldn’t be allowed to date until she was like twenty-nine and a half.

“They’re ridiculous. They take turns on the nightshift making sure someone sits by Winter’s bed in case she wakes up. They never want her to know what it’s like to be alone.”

“Trixie, that’s just plain weird. They’re obsessive. That can’t be healthy.”

“Oh please, Ansley. I think it’s sweet.”

“It’s still strange,” Ansley commented. “By the way, of all the names you considered—Steffi, Callie, Jenna—you named her Winter. Why?”

“It’s unusual,” Trixie explained, apparently unconcerned with whether or not the name of her child suited Ansley.

“Yes, but think of it from the child’s point of view. Good Lord, one of these days, in a fit of passion, some man is going to scream—”

“Ansley! Please! She’s three months old, for crying shame.”

“Yes, but one of these days,” Ansley sang, popping a kiss on her niece’s forehead and handing her back to Trixie. “You’ll see. She won’t like her name.”

“It’s classy. Just like my sister.”

“Hey now,” Ansley said. “No sarcasm.”

Trixie placed her palm flat against her upper chest. “I speak the truth. I think you’re a class act. Problem is, you haven’t joined me in reaching that decision.”

“I’ll do that now,” Ansley drawled. “So I’m pretty special.”

“He seems to think so.” Trixie tilted her head in Bailey’s direction.

Ansley frowned and shook her head. “He’s got a thing for Kimberly.”

“Then he’s due nothing but heartbreak, huh?”

“Guess so.”

“Have you seen Jason around since Kimberly left?” Trixie asked, frowning.

“Why? Did Mom tell you to check up on the situation?”

“Yes, but that’s not why I’m asking. I don’t want him here at the club rubbing salt in Kimberly’s open wounds.”

“She has plenty where that man is concerned. Trust me.”

“So has he been here?” Trixie pressed.

“Once. We kept him waiting on the loft list the entire night. Bailey and I decided if he wanted to fuck in public, he could go rent a room at one of the local hotels and leave the curtains open. He’d get the same end result. Kimberly would hear all about it.”

“Keep him out of here, okay?”

Ansley glanced over at the bar. Bailey was hard at work polishing glasses. She needed to move her ass, too. She wanted everything in order by the time Clink opened for the night.

“We’ll probably see Jason later this evening. The Killians are hosting an equestrian event. Word is we’ll see their crowd after their exhibitor’s party tonight.”

“Jason is always on the lookout for fresh meat. He’ll be here, all right.”

“My thoughts exactly. Why don’t you drag Brock or Rory out tonight?”

Trixie raised her brows. “Are you kidding me? Hell no. I don’t want either one of them over here watching those young little hot bodies grinding against cock and hollering louder than I can.”

Ansley blinked. “I seem to recall a screamer back in the day.”

“That was prekids. Things aren’t quite that exciting when the bedroom fills quickly with Tonka trucks rolling over limbs first thing in the morning.”

“Speaking of which, how is my little nephew?”

“He’s now on an hourly schedule of asking about his Aunt Ansley, which is actually why I stopped by. Brock said if you don’t get your skinny ass over to the house soon, he plans to drop Caz off here when you least want to babysit.”

“Tell him I’ll stop by next week. We’re due a busy weekend.”

“I don’t think your only concern is a crowded bar tonight,” Trixie said, pointing toward Tristan.

“Trust me. I won’t go there.”

“Famous last words, little sister. By the way, you mentioned the Killians,” Trixie began slowly, approaching the Elliott and Graham situation with extreme caution. “How long have they been back in town?”

Ansley shrugged. “Who knows. They must have had a grand old time in Texas or else I would’ve heard from them. You know, for a bump and grind, grunt and moan, if nothing else.”

“Ah, honey,” Trixie said, patting her hand. “If they’re hosting a horse show, you know how busy they are. Maybe they just came back for this event and they haven’t had time to stop by.”

The phone rang in the distance. Seconds later, Bailey said, “Ansley, phone.”

“Take a message.”

“I tried. Woman says it’s important.”

“Duty calls,” Ansley said, rolling her eyes. “Want to stick around for some lunch?”

“I would, but you have a lot to do. We’ll catch up next week.”

“Promise?” Ansley asked.

“Yes, silly girl. I promise.” Trixie blew Ansley a kiss as she disappeared behind the bar.

Ansley grabbed the phone and punched the blinking button. “Hello?”

“Ms. Cartwell?”

“Yes, that’s me.”

“How are you today?”

“Alive and well. Who is this?”

“Interesting choice of words. See, I’m the woman who wants to make sure that by this time next week, you’re dead and cold, rotting away in a shallow grave.”

* * * *

Tristan clutched the phone tighter against his ear. He hadn’t meant to eavesdrop but happened to pick up the receiver about the time Ansley answered out front.

“Who is this?” Ansley asked.

“Who I am isn’t important.”

“Matter of opinion, if you ask me. Perhaps you have the wrong number.”

God love her heart. Her voice proved she was clearly shaken. She should’ve been. Tristan recognized a threatening call. The gal on the other end of the line wasn’t messing around. She meant to terrorize. This wasn’t a meaningless prank.

“I have the right number and the right woman. You’re the one that made a dreadful mistake. Fucking a taken man isn’t a smart move. Even a dumb blonde is supposed to know better.”

Tristan started to say something, but instead, Ansley immediately defended herself. “Look, not that it’s a stranger’s business, but there hasn’t been a man in my bed in nearly a year. I imagine you’ve called the wrong establishment and the wrong club owner, both of which are located in the wrong damn state, lady!”

“You tried to steal my man.”

“When? In the first grade?”

“Don’t patronize me. You took my husband to bed!”

“If you were doing your job as a woman, you wouldn’t have a man someone else could steal. Ever thought of that?”

Ah hell
. Tristan needed to have a serious discussion with Ansley. That was quite possibly the worst thing Ansley could’ve said.

“Besides, I only go to bed with single men,” Ansley continued. “And if you want to make good on that threat, then I suggest you show your face. Don’t call me up and threaten me in the middle of the day and expect me to crumble. I don’t have time for pranks. Now, unless you can give me your name or the name of the man I supposedly pleasured, our conversation is over.”

Tristan jerked.
Way to really piss off an angry woman, Ansley.

“This isn’t a joke, Ms. Cartwell, and there’s no mistake. We’ll meet soon enough. I plan to put a bullet in the precise place you wounded me several years ago. Your days are numbered.”

The line went dead. Ansley slammed down the phone, which caused a ringing in Tristan’s ear.

He slowly returned the phone to the cradle and glared at the food order in front of him. Next time he’d submit the produce request online.

On second thought, he was glad he picked up when he did. Someone wanted to harm Ansley. She needed his protection. Obviously, she didn’t plan to defend herself. She didn’t even take her anonymous caller seriously!

“Something wrong?” Bailey asked, entering the kitchen.

“Yeah,” Tristan replied. “A woman just threatened Ansley.”

“What?”

“Some gal called her up and told her she plans to kill her.”