The Cowboy Rode a Harley Page 3

  Inside the kitchen to Gillian’s left, one of Haden’s friends lay on the floor with a pillow tucked under his head. “Excuse me,” Gillian whispered. “I need to get into the fridge.” He mumbled something and turned over.

  She stood back, surveying the scene. Snoring men, half-empty bottles, cigarette butts, and then she noticed a burn mark on her grandmother’s table. All of sudden, the skin along her neck broiled and she wanted to scream. She grabbed the handle of the cabinet door, pulling it wide, bent down, and took out a garbage bag.

  Snatching open the top edges with a loud whoosh, she began to throw inside each bottle that her gaze fell upon. Stephen’s words rang in her mind as though taunting her.

  Spurred, she’d had it. Empty beer bottles, half-finished bottles of liquor, even two-liter soda bottles, were tossed inside the garbage bag. When it was filled, she returned and removed the box of garbage bags from the cabinet. After swooping through the living room, the dining area, the hall bathroom, and clearing out the kitchen, she had three garbage bags of bottles.

  Sweat trickled down the sides of her face. She picked up a pen and wrote a note to Haden, advising him that tonight they were going to have a talk. A fire had been lit under her posterior end. This status quo was not going to continue. She and Haden had a family trust, but that didn’t mean he could spin through his with alcohol and God knows what else.

  Lori came up in back of her. “Busy much?”

  Gillian pushed at the tendrils of hair plastered against her neck. She panted her exasperation. “I’m just tired of living like this is some sort of frat house. Haden blows into town every few weeks, and my life is turned upside down.”

  “It is a mess. Doesn’t even look like the same apartment,” Lori said.

  “My grandmother would take a switch to us both. We’re supposed to be taking care of her place, not trashing it. Haden’s too wild for his own good. And speaking of which…I thought you were dating your doctor-boss? Horny much?”

  “Luke is so busy with his practice and the hospital; being a real doctor isn’t the same as playing doctor. Oh…that. I don’t know what happens to me when I see one of the McLemore boys. I adore Luke, but Stephen and his brother…well, both of them know how to show a lady a darn good time.”

  “What do you mean, both? You’ve been in bed with Stephen and Brandon at the same time? What will happen if Luke finds out?”

  Lori laughed. “Boy, what an imagination you’ve got. No. None of them knows about the other. I don’t plan on any more out-of-control nights with anyone other than Luke. I hope. Besides, it was just a fluke and a million shots of Tequila that had me with Stephen. Last night was weird. I never got undressed. Sure, I planned on riding that stud, but you saw me this morning, fully attired. It didn’t happen. We were both drunker than skunks and ran out of steam.”

  “I don’t need to hear the dirty details on the McLemore men. Stephen’s absolutely full of himself.”

  “You think? He’s not much on doing the meet and greet. A roll in the hay is all he’s good for. He’s never asked for my telephone number.”

  Gillian’s attention pricked. “You’ve never been on a date with the man?”

  “Not once. No one has, as far as I know. He’s wild. Can’t tame a man like that. Hell, I wouldn’t want to try. I don’t think men like Stephen can be faithful to just one woman.”

  “Maybe he just hasn’t met the right one.”

  “Make that plural. The right ones. He likes pairs, or so I’ve heard. He can go to town, and a girl needs backup when he’s in the mood. I’d hate to imagine his wife. She’d be walking bow-legged, and for a long, thick reason. If you get my meaning.”

  “Those are just rumors, I’m sure.” Gillian swallowed. “Ugh, that’s way too much info. Thank you, but shut up. Now. I really don’t need the 411 on Stephen McLemore, or any of his brothers or cousins. I learned long ago that they’re all trouble.”

  “Define trouble. Those boys come from a long line of big dicks. You know what they say about the Evermore Ranch dudes.”

  “Please, Lori. Don’t repeat that nonsense.”

  “Evermore the lover, evermore the pleasure.”

  Gillian closed her eyes. Everyone in town knew the saying. The McLemore men had a reputation. Each one of them had fulfilled some sinful prophesy, as far as she could tell. The McLemores were all tall, dark, and gifted with smoking good looks. Stephen, with his close-cut beard, was the devil incarnate.

  Thank God, Brandon and Stephen were the only two single men remaining from Dale McLemore’s cluster of untamed sons, now that the others were engaged or married. Even Nana had stories about Dale’s grandfather.

  The uncles and cousins were a whole other flavor of problem. Together, the McLemores owned most of the land that surrounded Annona with their cattle and horse ranch. They were wild and crazy, and when she’d been in school, those boys kept their folks busy, busy, busy.

  “Lori, if you hope to make a go of your relationship with your new beau, then you’d better lay off the McLemore bloodline. And I don’t ever want to come home and find Stephen in my bed again. Ever. Next time I’ll throw you and him out. That’s a promise, as sure as the law I’m laying down tonight when I set Haden straight. I’m tired of playing.”

  “I’m sorry, Gillian. I was afraid Luke would come by my apartment. He has a key. I didn’t want to screw that up. He’s meeting my parents this weekend. Next month we’re driving up to his family reunion. I’ve got big plans for him.”

  “Doesn’t sound like it. How can you make plans with one man when you’re sleeping with another? I don’t understand your thinking.”

  “Excuse me, I was only sleeping last night. No harm there. Sounds like you’re tired and need to do some playing. You should have woken Stephen up when you got in last night. Hell, that man would have left you with a smile on your face this morning.”

  Gillian’s cheeks warmed, flashing hot and hotter. “In the same bed with you? I’m not into that sort of thing.”

  “I’ve got no claim on that man. You talked with him? I must have been zonked out. Girl, with the right man you’d soon change that tune. Stephen is one helluva lover. Damn. That man can go to town, and I do mean, go. Mouth, hands, and especially you-know-what.”

  Gillian thought she was going to be sick. The idea of Stephen doing things to Lori and her at the same time made her dizzy. “That day will never come. I don’t know how you plan on keeping your marriage together if all you want is some crazy bedroom escapade.”

  “Exactly the point I’m trying to make. Getting married isn’t about a man being wild in the bedroom. I’m looking for a man who wants to build a life. Stability, a house, and children. Not wham-bam-see-ya. I hear what you’re saying. I agree. I don’t plan on ever hitting the sheets with Stephen again.” Lori took hold of Gillian’s arm. “Or any other man besides Luke. Don’t be angry with me. You know what I’m saying is the truth. Some guys ring the bell. Some guys are on the plan.”

  “Plan?”

  “You know, step-by-step. Like training a dog. Teachable pets. They learn over time how to please a woman. Then, once they’ve got the program, a girl’s set. Luke’s about to be indoctrinated into the plan.”

  Gillian rolled her eyes. “I hope you’re wrong. Seriously. I don’t see myself settling for a plan. I want to hear music when I kiss my husband…or boyfriend. Not think about the laundry or groceries. I want him to make me go hot all over. I don’t want to crash into your cynical mindset.”

  “We’ll see. You’re still a romantic at heart. Come on, I’ll help take these to the trash bin. I stand firmly in my convictions. I’m not a pessimist or an optimist. I’m a realist.”

  Gillian saw no point in arguing further. Lori wasn’t going to change how she saw the world and, as far as Gillian could determine, her friend’s life seemed to go according to plan. Lori had graduated from nursing school ahead of schedule. She’d secured one of the few jobs in the medical profession around Annona, working f
or one of the two doctors young enough to be considered dating material. And she’d slept with the other man considered to be a catch in bed. Lori cast her net far and wide, and had caught gold.

  What did she have? More costumes to finish, three garbage bags of liquor bottles, and hadn’t been on a date in God knows how long. For sure, whatever she might add to the conversation was purely conjecture.

  Her friend didn’t know she’d never had sex. That little secret she conveniently kept to herself, and pretended with her friends that she was as experienced as they were…well, maybe not that much mileage on the mattress, but she certainly never mentioned she was still a virgin.

  “We up for girls’ night on Wednesday?” Lori asked.

  “As always. I could use a night to let it all hang out.”

  “Girl, now you’re talking.” Gillian lifted one of the trash bags and shut the door behind them. They walked down the steps and made their way around the duplex to the trash bins located in the alley.

  “The flowers are showing real nice.” Lori picked a hibiscus bloom and put it behind her ear.

  “I think the garden and yard are almost as pretty as when Nana lived here. It’s my therapy.”

  Gardening was the one thing she did to keep her sanity. Working as a young girl with her grand-folks on the weekend, she learned how to plant, weed, water, and trim all the plants so lovingly cared for over the years. All sorts of flowers and shrubbery had been planted and continued to flourish. Most Sundays after church, she returned home, changed, and came out here into the yard to dig her problems away.

  “Jesus, when was the last time you had a man warming your bed? Every time I come over here you’re sewing, cleaning, or pruning. I love you, but you’ve got the life of a retiree. If you don’t use it, you’ll lose it.”

  “I’m not desperate, if that’s your meaning.”

  “Not yet, but seriously, Gillian. You’re too young to just sit on the sidelines. Pick one of Haden’s friends. They all drool over you whenever you’re around. You should have heard them talking last night. Heck, the drummer is a honey I wouldn’t mind tasting.”

  “Didn’t you just say that you were reeling that side in?” Gillian stared at her friend, wondering if Lori had lost her marbles. “I’m beginning to think you’ve got some issue.”

  “Touchy, touchy. I committed to no more casual sex, and I am serious. I was just thinking about you. You’ve got your pick of men. Just do the eeny, meeny, miny, moe, and take “moe.” At least for the night.

  Gillian dropped the bag into the garbage can. She held the lid waiting for Lori to deposit the one she held. “Come on. I can tell we don’t see eye-to-eye on this one.”

  “After a few drinks, everyone does. Hugs, then. I gotta run.”

  They embraced, separated, and Lori walked out of the driveway to her car parked across the street. Another car drove by on the street and honked. A couple of guys tossing compliments and an invitation to her friend. Lori laughed, glancing over her shoulder, and waved goodbye to Gillian.

  Lori was never at a loss for male admiration. Maybe that’s why it was difficult for Lori to stay focused on one man. She didn’t know, and that particular issue, to date, was not her problem. No, if anything, finding the right man to date seemed to be a problem, and one without a good answer.

  * * *

  The Double Diamond was the hot spot in town for single ladies on Wednesday evening. It made sense that it was the hot spot in town for single men on Wednesday night as well. Walking into the honkytonk after nine, Gillian was assured that most of the regulars were well into their third or fourth drink. At this time of night, she sauntered on through the place without the stares and catcalls that occurred earlier in the evening from wild and horny single men. Alcohol spiked with lust had a way of bringing couples together, especially when both parts of the equation were hot on the prowl.

  By now, many singles were paired up on the dance floor, in dark corners of the bar, and even a few spunky couples were coming and going from the parking lot. Gillian headed into the mix, weaving between the small tables situated along the side wall and skittered next to the overcrowded dance floor. The DJ had just played a popular two-step song and most of the seats were empty.

  A waving hand beckoned her to a corner. “Gillian, over here,” Cory yelled.

  Coming up to the table, Gillian cupped her hands around her mouth so she could be heard above the music. “Nice seeing you here.”

  For a second her chest tightened as she noticed for the first time how much Cory McLemore reminded her of Stephen. Cory was one of her private students and friends. Had been for years, but so far Stephen had not been an open subject between them. She and Cory had gone to school together and Stephen’s sister knew almost as much ballroom dancing as she did.

  The sight of the younger woman with her bright blue eyes made Gillian lose her train of thought. Damn, she was the spitting image of Stephen, minus a beard and his other masculine attributes. Before tonight, Cory was simply her friend, but now Gillian was unsure after kissing her brother if she’d ever be able to look at Cory without a pinch to the ribs.

  The memory of Stephen’s demanding mouth made Gillian’s face go hot, and for a second she turned away, pretending to scan the dance floor.

  “It’s busy tonight,” Gillian said.

  “Hey, Gillian, I brought you some stuff,” Cory shouted above the music. She held out a bag to her.

  “Thanks. What’s this?” Gillian took the bag and peeked inside.

  “I heard you were in need of some more material for the spring recital. Shoot, girl, all you had to do was say something. I thought you had it wrapped up with parent donations. These are some things I managed to get as promotions. Beads and gems, a whole mess of ribbon, and all sorts of threads. Can you use them?”

  “Absolutely. We’re good for this recital, but there’s always something going on. Thanks.” She reached across the table and hugged Cory. As she was about to sit back down, her eyes locked with another set of blue eyes across the bar. Stephen McLemore tipped his hat in her direction. A cocky grin spread across his face and he lifted a white mug in her direction. She shifted her gaze away from him, but not before the pit of her stomach bottomed-out.

  “Blame Stephen. He gave me the idea when I was cleaning out my room. Told me to donate stuff instead of throwing it away. I can’t believe I didn’t think of it myself, with all the times I’ve been at the studio. I’ve got tons more if you want to come over and take a look. With my leaving for college, we’ll have to go through what I’ve got and load it all up for the studio’s next recital. Fall, right? Maybe I’ll be back in time to help.”

  “I never thought to ask. This all is amazing. But don’t worry about the fall. You’ll probably be too busy with school.”

  “Hush. Never too busy for the studio.” Cory picked up the pitcher of beer and poured her a glass. “Here. Something to wet your whistle. Lori’s dancing with Luke. She broke the rule tonight and brought a date.”

  “Considering her history…I’m glad she did.”

  “Lauren’s over there sitting with Clay. His leg is still in a cast so there’s no dancing for him.”

  “Oh, I didn’t know he was back. Must have been hard. The war.”

  “I suspect. He’s working at the ranch. Doing his part.”

  “Cattle ranching?”

  “Not exactly. He’s in charge of the purchasing and equipment maintenance, mostly. I don’t know exactly all he does, but he’s got an office in between Matt’s and Miller. You ever been out to the ranch since school?”

  “Not since high school when your folks had those BBQs and bonfires.”

  “Those were good times. Speaking of which…” Cory laughed. “I think one of my brothers is on his way over.”

  Gillian feigned not knowing which one. “Oh, really?”

  Cory’s gaze traveled upward, behind Gillian.“Yes?”

  “I’m not here to speak with you, Cory.”

  �
�Bothering my friends?” Cory asked, winking Gillian. “I guess my brother’s got a question.”

  “Hi,” she said, peering up into his face and ignoring her galloping heartbeat.

  “Gillian, dance with me.” Stephen’s voice didn’t leave any room for argument, not when his hand curled firmly around her arm.

  “It’s so crowded right now.” Her whole body was ready and willing. His fingers on her elbow sent an electrical pulse up through her arm. The music had changed to a slow song. The feel of his hand moving over the skin along her arm sent a spasm of warm rivulets through her body.

  She glanced over her shoulder to the dance floor. The colored lights swam, rippling over the heads of the people swaying. The whole floor reminded her of the lake at sunrise, calm and just a hint of wave motion.

  “Just one dance, darlin’.” He tugged on her arm, and her body from the neck down was rearing to follow. It was her head that was having trouble keeping the peace.

  “Go on. He’s real good,” Cory assured her. “Even plastered, he doesn’t step on a girl’s toes. That was the reason I let him take me to the prom.”

  She put aside the nagging question as to why Cory had gone to the prom with her brother, the wildcard. Easy enough when he stared down at her and she was ready to melt. “Fine. One dance.”

  He pulled her upright, running his fingers down her arm, squeezed her fingers, and led her to the dance floor. Stephen continued to pull her along the edge, all the way back to the corner. He turned, more graceful than she’d expected, and caught her in his arms. Jesus, it had been far too long since she’d danced with a man that made her heartbeat triple-time it.

  The feel of his hard body coming into contact with hers had her reeling. He held onto her, keeping them flush against each other from thigh to hip, then closer as he bent over her, and had her mind swimming. Her thoughts jumbled together with each dance step.

  His hard body had her focusing on the shape of his muscular shoulders, the texture of his shirt up against her face, and his chin pressing against her temple. His masculine scent filled her, heating her from head to toe. Their bodies swayed together, and with each caress against her skin, she pressed nearer to him. Closing her eyes, she willed herself not to be swept away by what she’d experienced the other morning and now, in his arms.