Cowgirls Don't Cry (Rough Riders 10) - Page 51/87

Brandt nodded. “If he ain’t still pissing blood after that kidney shot, he’s got my vote for Iron Man of the Year.”

“He’s got my vote for dumbass of the year. Here he’s havin’ the best year of his career and he had a chance to finish in the top fifteen at the world finals. After that last wreck, the sports med doc warned him to drop out. He did, but in his free time while he’s supposed to be healin’ up, Chase has gotten into some…compromising positions with a couple of buckle bunnies. Naturally, their phones had cameras and they caught the whole raunchy performance on video. Which they posted on YouTube. Get this: He’s already got a huge fan club, but since this happened, his PR woman can’t keep up with the media requests for interviews. The women are freakin’ out about seein’ the almighty, bull riding great Chase McKay…buck-assed nekkid.”

“First I’ve heard of it. What’s Chase doin’ about it?”

“Lapping up the media attention like the whoremonger bad boy he is. Which means the idiot is still goin’ out every night, getting drunk and getting laid. I ain’t upset he pissed away the world finals by getting on a bull he had no business getting on, but if he doesn’t take his rehab seriously, he’s gonna end up with a permanent injury.”

Brandt believed Chase would get his shit together, but he also understood Ben’s concern for his little brother. “Tell said you guys are headed to Vegas for the NFR?”

“Yeah. I hadn’t planned on goin’, but since Tell is doin’ the judges course, I can stay with him. Plus, Chase is gonna be there, and he’s so f**king scrambled he wants to talk to the PRCA folks about what they’ll do for him if he switches to the PRCA bull riding program. Quinn can’t go beat some sense into him because Libby has her hands full with Adam and Amelia, so I’ve been drafted.”

“If Quinn needs help while you’re gone, have him holler.”

“Will do.”

“I better head out. Thanks for the beer.”

“Don’t mention it. Anytime you need to bend my ear again just come on by. Quinn’s preoccupied with Libby and the kids these days, and Chase is never around. I spend most of my day talkin’ to the damn cattle or my dogs, so I appreciate you stopping by.”

Brandt never considered that Ben might be lonely. God knew he’d be lonely if Tell and Dalton suddenly developed other interests. “Will you be around for poker night? It’s at Cord’s, which means we’ll have good eats while he’s kickin’ our ass.”

“That sly f**ker won eighty bucks from me last time.”

“Here’s some advice for you, cuz. Stay away from the poker tables while you’re in Vegas.”

“Why’s that?”

“Because your poker face is for shit.”

Ben smirked. “Or maybe that’s just what I want you guys to think.”

Chapter Fifteen

Jessie was chopping green peppers for the batch of Spanish rice when Brandt pulled up. He’d been gone longer than she expected. But she wouldn’t grill him about it because she remembered how crazy Luke got if she’d asked him too many questions.

Brandt is not Luke.

No kidding. She’d barely scratched the surface on learning what made Brandt tick.

Sex, definitely. Lots of sex. Lots of juicy, hot, mind-blowing sex.

Brandt stepped into the tiny entryway to take off his coat, boots and hat. In that order. Then he looked at her with the dimpled smile that made her belly flutter. “Hey. That smells good.”

“Just Spanish rice, nothing fancy.”

He looked around the living room. “Landon asleep?”

“Yeah. I know it’s probably crazy to put him down this late, but he was really crabby.”

“Sorry I wasn’t here to help. I ended up stopping at Ben’s place on the way home and we had a couple of beers.”

Jessie smiled, appreciating he’d told her his whereabouts. “No need to explain, but I’m glad you did.”

Brandt crossed into the kitchen, lowering his mouth to hers for a blistering kiss. He tasted of beer and need.

This sweet, hot man could wind her up in no time flat. She returned his kiss with equal fervor, loving his deep groan as she pressed her body to his and twined her arms around his neck. She felt him harden against her belly. Then Brandt clamped his hands on her butt, hoisting her up so her legs circled his hips.

He walked to the bedroom, breaking the liplock as he set her on the bed. “Damn, woman, kissing you almost makes me forget I have a splitting headache.”

His face was pale. And his eyes had that squinty look she associated with pain. Any thoughts of getting nekkid with him vanished. “Would you like me to rub your neck to see if it’ll help your headache?”

“Nah. That’s okay. You don’t have to.”

“I want to.” She laid her hand on his cheek. His skin seemed hotter than normal. “While you strip down to more comfy clothes, I’ll throw the peppers in the pan and be right back.”

“Okay.”

Brandt must be in pain if he didn’t argue.

In the kitchen, Jessie scooped the diced peppers into the hamburger and tomato mixture. She added a cup of rice before putting the lid on and turning the burner to low. After washing her hands, she checked on Landon and returned to the bedroom.

Oh. Lordy. Would you look at that? A half-naked, muscled cowboy hottie stretched out on her bed.

Brandt had taken her strip down suggestion literally; he only wore his boxers.

He turned his head as she climbed on the bed. “I probably oughta be givin’ you a neck rub.”

“You’ve given me plenty of backrubs. It’s payback.” She sat on his butt, tucking her knees by his sides. “Mind if I sit like this?”

“Hell no. If you don’t mind knowin’ that you sittin’ on me like that is gonna give me wood.

Guaranteed.”

She chuckled and splayed her hands across his upper shoulders.

“Ah, sweet Jesus, Jess, that feels so damn good.”

“Close your eyes and relax, Brandt.”

He muttered, “Bossy thing,” and rested the side of his face on the bed.

Jessie worked his shoulders, digging her thumbs into knotted muscles. His headache probably stemmed from the tight points all over his back, not just his neck. She attempted to loosen them, paying particular attention to the area around his spine.

She let herself enjoy touching him, her hands pulling, pushing and smoothing his skin. The musculature of his back had ridges and dips and hollows, forged from hours of physical labor he did every day. Yet that same flesh was pliant. It gave way beneath her kneading fingertips. And the scent of his skin… God, she wanted to bury her nose between his shoulder blades and fill her lungs with all that masculine goodness. Rub her face against his taut flesh, wearing the scent of his skin on hers. Press her lips to his spine and follow the length with her tongue down to his tailbone, tasting his heat and sweat.