Cowboy Double-Decker

COWBOY DOUBLE-DECKER

Sequel to Cowboy Sandwich

Reece Butler

MENAGE AMOUR

Siren Publishing, Inc.

www.SirenPublishing.com

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A SIREN PUBLISHING BOOK

IMPRINT: Ménage Amour

COWBOY DOUBLE-DECKER

Copyright © 2010 by Reece Butler

E-book ISBN: 1-60601-785-3

First E-book Publication: April 2010

Cover design by Jinger Heaston

All cover art and logo copyright © 2010 by Siren Publishing, Inc.

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All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.

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Siren Publishing, Inc.

www.SirenPublishing.com

Letter from Reece Butler

Regarding Ebook Piracy

Dear Reader,

Thank you for purchasing
Cowboy Double-Decker
, the sequel to
Cowboy Sandwich
. And thank you for not sharing this e-book.

If you are reading this book without having purchased it from my publisher or from an online outlet who signed a distribution contract directly with my publisher, such as Amazon.com, please be aware you have stolen my work. Writing takes a lot of hard work. It’s a job, not a hobby, for which I have the right to be paid for my work and to earn a living. One advantage of e-books is that our readers don’t have to trudge to the store to see whether anything interests them. Instead, in the comfort and privacy of their home, they can download their choice of reading, day or night, inexpensively. The word is

“inexpensive,” not “free." Sharing a copyrighted work such as this e-book is illegal.

For my dear readers who are honest and paid for this copy of
Cowboy
Double-Decker
, I thank you. If you enjoy
Cowboy Double-Decker
, please tell your friends—to purchase their own copy.

With deep gratitude,

Reece Butler

For Paul, Andy and David, and those who encouraged me along the way.

COWBOY DOUBLE-DECKER

Sequel to Cowboy Sandwich

REECE BUTLER

Copyright © 2010

Utah, mid-November, Friday

Bryan Raman muttered a curse and set his biking gear on the grungy carpet. He crouched in the dim hallway and squinted at the door handle. Fumbling with the keycard, he shoved it into the slot once more, this time with the hotel logo facing up
and
away. When he pulled it out, two tiny lights shone brilliant green instead of angry red.

“Finally!”

He groaned as he stood, muscles cramping from the long ride, shoved the door open with his shoulder, and stomped in.

The roar of the shower to his left proved he wasn’t alone. Four hundred miles into a north wind and they’d given him a roommate.

Just because he agreed to help out his college pal didn’t mean he wanted to relive the dorm experience, dammit!

Blessed sun streamed into the lounge portion of the one-bedroom suite, drawing him. His leather jacket creaked as he set his helmet, gauntlets, and saddlebags on the desk. Hands on hips, he closed his eyes and let the hot rays soak into his chilled body, from size twelve boots to forty-two inch chest. He’d be fine three minutes after stepping under hot water. Mike-the-damn-roommate better get his ass out of that shower!

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Reece Butler

“Up!”

He opened his eyes and swiveled his head at the imperious command. Tiny feet squishing a stuffed yellow duck, a kid beamed at him from a portable playpen. Chubby fists clutched the top rail and legs bobbed up and down like a yo-yo, a grin showing all three teeth.

“Aw, sh–oot.”

Two months working with rough construction crews and his child-friendly vocabulary went out the window. He’d better start practicing now. Candy would kill him if he swore in front of the twins. When he didn’t move, the kid’s smile faded to a chin quiver. Bryan scrubbed both hands over his three-day beard. He might be able to wrestle rodeo steers and stay in the saddle all day, but he couldn’t turn down a whimpering kid.

“Gimme a minute, squirt.”

He shrugged off his heavy riding jacket and stretched out his shoulders. What idiot would bring a kid to a training course? He groaned as his plans to stretch out on a soft bed went up in smoke.

There should be two queen beds in the bedroom, one for each man. If Mike had his woman here, they wouldn’t want him snoring two feet away. He grimaced at the pull-out sofa, too small for his broad six-foot-two-inch frame.

When he turned back to the kid, joy like he hadn’t seen in a long time lit up the tyke’s face. A fist grabbed his heart and squeezed. His daughter was about this size. He’d just missed two months of her precious life. Eight weeks of morning smiles and nightly kisses. And no wife to show for it.

“You want up, little buddy?”

“Up!”

The kid was about the same age as Evie, though the red dump truck on the tiny shirt suggested a boy.

“Then it’s time to fly.”

He swooped the boy high into the air and was rewarded with chuckles. An unmistakable aroma hit his nose, double-barreled. The
Cowboy Double-Decker

9

kid laughed when Bryan screwed up his face in automatic reaction.

“Whoa! You are stinky.”

“Tinky!”

“You said it. Someone’s got a big job ahead of him, and it sure ain’t me.”

Holding the kid around the chest at arm’s length, he walked to the window and looked down. The sun winked off the windshield of another minivan pulling into the parking lot, fully loaded. Just like the kid’s diaper.

He let the boy set his bare toes on the window ledge, holding him snug around the chest. As expected, the kid slapped both palms against the window. Pleased with the sound, he did it again.

Bryan let his shoulders relax. Great. Three days of hard riding and he’s greeted by a kid with pants full of hazardous waste. The shower shut off with a bang. Another few minutes and he’d ease his sore muscles. The kid leaned forward and gave the window a wet, sloppy kiss.

“You’d better improve your technique, son. Women don't like wet, sloppy kisses.”

“Kiss!”

The boy grinned up at him, and he couldn’t resist returning it. The shower shut off. A moment later, he heard the bathroom door open, but no one stepped out.

“Just a minute, sweetie.”

The kid pounded the window with renewed exuberance, but Bryan groaned at the high-pitched voice coming from the open bathroom door. It wasn’t getting stuck with the pull-out couch that made him shudder. Just the sound of her voice strained his pants and tightened his boys as hard as golf balls.

Way too long without sex.

“Freddie? Oh my God!”

Bryan swung around, the babbling kid dangling from his hands.

The wide-eyed woman switched to an icy glare so fast he barely
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Reece Butler

caught her initial fear. Jaw set, both hands clutched the white towel barely wrapped around her. Damp red curls flowed to her shoulders.

Long legs emerged below the towel at mid-thigh. He inhaled to the bottom of his lungs, no longer cold.

“Put my baby down!” Eyes wide, she bit her lip and flicked her eyes around the room. She grasped her towel tighter and glared. “I’ve got a gun!”

He wasn't worried. Where could she hide one? Obviously her partner, Mike, hadn’t informed her about a roommate. If he had to give up his bed for her, he’d check out the scenery.
Dayam
, she was fine. He’d once seen a woman drive a Harley the same color as those toenails—cherry red. Slender ankles led to long legs topped with thighs spattered with freckles. Another few constellations of dots sprinkled the gap between towel and shoulders. She frowned so hard with those bright blue eyes that her eyebrows almost touched.

He winced at his body’s demand to do more than look. He lowered the squirming child as a shield for the zipper of his straining jeans. As Mike’s woman, she was out of bounds, but it had been a long time since he’d seen anything he wanted so much. His upper brain finally kicked into gear.

“Gun, huh?” He tilted his head and flicked his eyes over her again. “Where?”

She opened her mouth to answer and then pressed her lips closed.

She looked him over from the thick soles of his black biker boots to his scruffy beard and helmet-hair. He had a few ideas what that mouth could do to make his day, or night.

He licked his dry lips and forced a friendly grin. He didn’t poach another man’s woman, but he’d seen enough to keep him hard for hours. After three days of riding, he was so exhausted he might be able to sleep, even with this beauty in the next room. Unless she was noisy in bed. Hearing sexy moans would wreck his sleep for sure.

“Ma-ma-ma!” The kid’s feet pumped as if he were in a bouncy chair.

Cowboy Double-Decker

11

“It’s okay, Scotty. Mama won’t let the bad man hurt you.”

The kid wasn’t worried, but his ma lifted her chin and braced herself to fight like an injured mama bear facing down a pack of hungry wolves.

“Relax, lady, I won’t hurt you or your kid. Where’s Mike?”

“Mike?” She frowned again.

“Desk clerk said this suite was booked for the Environmental Solutions course under ‘Bry and Mike.’ I’m Bryan Raman. Is your partner Mike taking the course?”

“Sorry to burst your sexist bubble,” she snarled, “but there is no Mike.
I’m
the one taking the course. My employer booked a suite for Bryony and Mike.” Her eyes widened. She groaned. “Oh, no, they didn’t get the change in reservations!”