Cain's Law (Cowboys on the Edge Book 3) (10 page)
And if you’re hungry for more, there are plenty of sexy Texans awaiting your pleasure in the Cowboys on the Edge series!
Out with the old, in with the new…
Or so Sherry Thacker thinks. Problem is, her ex is always on her mind—shirtless, sweaty, sooty, way too handsome—and right across the street. When a “Wet Down” ceremony to retire an old fire truck is planned by the city council to raise funds for the firehouse, she has to put aside her hurt and anger and do her job. Texas fierefighter, Blake Thacker wants his wife back—in the house they shared, in their marriage bed. Still confused how Sherry’s becoming mayor managed to drive a wedge between them, he’ll use whatever means necessary to win her back.
Sex is always best served WET.
This flame doesn’t need a match…
One high school prank gone wrong shouldn’t define the rest of Carly Lohan’s life. But setting fire to Caldera Canyon isn’t something townsfolk will ever forget. As the last part of her final act of restitution, she’s among the group of volunteers assigned to keep a prescribed burn of underbrush and grass from “running over the rim” into the ranches ringing the park.
Local rancher and volunteer firefighter Jeremiah McCord doesn’t trust the reformed firebug anywhere near the canyon’s controlled burn. Determined to keep her on a short rein, he’s everywhere she is, watching her. His distrust and determination sparks a plan for some sexy revenge—one that will get them both too close to the flames.
Love hard-edged Navy SEALs? Try an Uncharted SEALs story!
Navy SEAL Deke Warrick’s unsanctioned detail is to keep tabs on a congressman’s daughter while she vacations in the Caribbean. He’s determined to keep his distance from the beautiful Nicky Martir, but finds his limits tested when Nicky sets out to seduce him. What seemed like a simple mission becomes deliciously complicated—and then dangerous, when she’s snatched from their hotel room.
Ex-SEAL Jackson Keller’s first mission with the Charter Group’s spec ops unit is a bust. Instead of capturing a drug lord in his Mexican compound, he finds a beautiful, naked woman. But she may have information they need to nail the narco-terrorist, so he takes her, sealing his fate. She’s his to watch, his to “manage” until the op’s done.
Suri McAnally’s made some mistakes—mainly trusting her college roomie who just so happens to be the son of one of Mexico’s most dangerous drug lords. If Jackson can save her, she’ll do whatever he says, mirror his moves, and try to keep her insta-lust under control. Her next breath depends on it.
Ex-SEAL and expert sniper, Wolf Kinkaid, is taking a little downtime while he considers his options. Being wooed by two elite black ops groups, he’s enjoying Charter Group’s beach house while he considers his options. A loner by nature as well as occupation, he wonders if he’ll ever really connect to the people around him. Afraid his loner nature will sentence him to spending his life alone, he’s not sure he wants to continue looking down a scope, even if the pay’s good.
Bounty hunter Piper Ames loves the adrenaline rush she gets from her high-stakes hunts, but now, she has time on her hands as she waits for her collar to pop up his head so she can take him down. While she’s waiting, it doesn’t hurt that a big, buff, ex-military type is staying right next door. Not the least shy about going after what she wants, she’s surprised when he’s equally as aggressive. Their chemistry is off the charts, and the sex is the hottest she’s ever had.
While Wolf and Piper connect in the only way their independent natures allow, danger lurks. When her target comes, guns blazing, they have to pull together to make it out alive.
After losing her partner and lover in a shootout, New Orleans police officer Aislin Dupree is tormented by memories of the past and the day she lost Marc LeBrun. At her darkest hour, she discovers that Marc had planned a romantic getaway on a Caribbean island before his death. All expenses paid. She decides to take the trip, hoping the island getaway will help her come to terms with her sorrow. Instead, she meets a man, a friend of Marc’s from his time served as Navy SEAL.
Sam Blalock is like Marc in so many ways that he makes her ache for what she once had. Strong, rugged Sam is her rock, holding her when she breaks, encouraging her to move on, because he knows about the pain of loss and the horror of violence all too well. She soon finds her waking hours consumed by Sam while she roams her dreams in search of Marc. As the time approaches for her to go home, she’s afraid to let go of the connection she’s found, and she fears she might be holding onto Sam for all the wrong reasons while she imagines another reality where dreams do come true.
A
sh stared after
his disappearing figure. Sam Blalock seemed nice enough, on the surface. And he’d been a friend of Marc’s. She knew she should trust him. But something about the way he’d studied her with his short glances throughout the drive irritated. She’d noted them from the corner of her eye while she’d pretended not to notice.
An element about him was familiar. Something that drew her toward him. And she resented the fact he was attractive, if not overtly handsome. He was too rugged, his jaw too square and stubborn, his nose bumpy from being broken. And his voice was too inviting—warm and deep, a little raspy.
Maybe she resented him because he felt familiar, because several aspects about him reminded her of Marc. That realization had her stiffening against his friendly overtures, almost from the start. Her attraction felt like a betrayal—of Marc, of her own body.
She set her duffel on the soft, flower-sprigged duvet covering the king-sized bed and jerked open the zipper. Her clothing and toiletries were a wild jumble. She’d simply tossed items into her bag, hurrying to escape her apartment. Sighing, she lifted the bag and emptied the contents onto the bed.
Her navy and white, two-piece swimsuit landed on top of the pile. Of course, she wasn’t going swimming in the middle of the night with a stranger. That was plain crazy.
But through the glass door, she could hear the gentle lapping of the waves and smell the sea-fresh air. And moonlight glinted silver on the porch railing and over the crests of the distant waves. She fingered the suit. A swim would feel lovely. How long since she’d swam in salt water? Years. Which was why even the mention of the less-than-pristine beaches of Grand Isle hadn’t seemed so bad when Marc had teased her.
Marc had wanted to bring her here. He’d still want her to enjoy the accommodations he’d arranged. She knew that for a fact. And she would be safer with his friend’s company, at least while swimming in a dark ocean.
Just as she had in her apartment, she quit thinking, and instead moved in jerking dashes, grabbing her suit and heading to the bathroom to change. Inside a minute, she walked barefoot out the French doors, down the wooden steps to the paved path that lead through a tiny garden and to the gate that opened onto the sand.
Sam had been faster. She saw his frame outlined by the moonlight, a large dark shadow that caused her breath to catch. From the back, his build was so like Marc’s that she pressed a hand to a painful twinge twisting in her chest.
He stood at the edge of the water, waves lapping at his ankles. Her feet made soft crunching sounds in the sand, so he turned and smiled. “You can swim, right?”
“Think an ex-SEAL would tolerate a girlfriend who couldn’t?” she quipped, then blinked in surprise that she’d dredged up a barb.
His teeth flashed white. “After you,” he said, turning to the side as she strode closer.
A long strip of beach offered plenty of room to play, but her inner minx coaxed her into passing close by his body as she walked into the waves. Maybe she wanted to see if she could make him uncomfortable. Maybe she just wanted a closer look at what the moonlight defined in silver and shadow.
For months, she hadn’t felt a spark of curiosity about another human being. But here she was, wondering about this man who stood so still she couldn’t detect the rise and fall of his chest as she passed.
A foamy wave lapped at her toes, and she almost groaned. The sensation was like wet silk. Glorious. And now she wanted it wrapped around her entire body. She took several more steps then dove into an oncoming wave.
She swam to the middle of the inlet, then rolled to her back and floated, letting the gentle swells lift and lower her body while she stared at the starry sky above. It seemed like all the stars of the Milky Way winked down on her. What would this night have been like if Marc had lived?
She had no doubt he’d have cajoled her into a swim upon their arrival. And maybe talked her into making love in the shallows. Lord, how she missed his spontaneity. His joy of simple pleasures. Mostly, she missed the way he looked at her—like she was something beautiful and mysterious. How often had he asked what she was thinking, because he wanted to know how her mind worked, to learn what made her happy. He was always so observant—of her and their surroundings. How had
he
missed the figure hidden behind the door?
Chilled now, she dropped her feet and dog-paddled, staring at the light blinking in the window of the cottage Marc had secured for their getaway. She was glad of the darkness that hid the tears welling in her eyes. She dipped her head backward, and then shook her hair.
“Ready to swim back?” came the deep timbre of the voice beside her. Not Marc’s, because it didn’t hold the same note of silky, Cajun warmth. Sam’s voice was brisk. Deep, but the sound didn’t send shivers down her spine. Was she disappointed?
She forced a slight smile and turned to look at him. His arms swept forward and back, holding him in place beside her. How long had he been watching her? This time, a slight shiver did roll down her back. His gaze was steady. He was studying her. Was that a SEAL thing? Had Marc’s intense interest in her been a habit born of his training?
“I think so,” she said. “I should get some rest. I haven’t slept since…” She shook her head at the inability to remember when. Yesterday morning, she’d dragged herself from her sofa to see Melanie Oats, but she hadn’t really slept that well. Her dreams had been fitful, causing her to turn and waken every time her heart beat faster and her legs felt leaden.
“I hope you enjoyed it. I swim often. Fish, too. Off the rocks,” he said, pointing toward boulders at one end of the beach, an outcropping that stretched into the water. “When I’m here, anyway.”
“Are you gone a lot?”
“Sometimes more than others. When duty calls…”
She nodded. “Guess I’ll head back.” She struck out again, this time for shore. Slower now because fatigue had taken hold. By the time her toes touched the sand, her body felt heavy. She realized she hadn’t brought along a towel, so she stood and squeezed the water from her hair.
Sam paused beside her. “I’ll walk you to your door.”
“There’s no need,” she said, her tone abrupt. She was glad of the darkness that hid her blush at her rudeness. Sam had been nothing but kind.