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  • Angie's Destiny [Cattleman's Club 8] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) Page 3

Angie's Destiny [Cattleman's Club 8] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) Read online

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  “Nope.” Brandon shook his head but couldn’t shake the smile from it. “We’re cool.”

  “Then why don’t you be cool elsewhere?”

  “Come on, boys.” Duncan shoved off the locker he’d been leaning against and ambled for the door. “I think we were just dismissed.”

  * * * *

  “Is your mom gone?” Gwen asked that question from behind Kristen as she stood there waving goodbye to her mother.

  It hadn’t been an easy thing to get rid of her, and really, only the darkening evening sky had finally managed to accomplish what Kristen hadn’t. Turning as she shut the door, Kristen shot Gwen a quick smile.

  “I think so. She drove off down the street, so as long as she doesn’t return for something she might have conveniently forgotten…” Kristen let that comment trail off as Gwen snorted and rolled her eyes.

  “It’s a good thing you’re cutting those cords,” Gwen assured her, though Kristen didn’t exactly know what that meant. She still got the gist.

  “Mom means well, but I do need to claim my own independence.” That seemed a much more polite way of saying whatever it was that Gwen was trying to say.

  Politeness, though, was pointless when dealing with her cousin, who snorted and rolled her eyes. “Good God, you sound so much like her it’s frightening. Tell me, you going to nag me when I light up this cigarette?”

  “I didn’t know you smoked.” Kristen frowned as she stared at the slender object trapped between two of Gwen’s fingers.

  “Yep. I do a lot things you probably have no clue about, and it’s going to stay that way,” Gwen tacked on pointedly with a look that said Kristen was supposed to be getting a message, only she didn’t understand it.

  “What?”

  “It’s a hear-no-evil, see-no-evil, repeat-no-evil kind of house,” Gwen explained, seeming incapable of being direct, but Kristen was finally getting it.

  “I’m not here to rat you out to Aunt Harriet,” Kristen vowed, referencing Gwen’s mother.

  Aunt Harriet was married to a minister, who was not Gwen’s father and did not approve of Gwen’s lifestyle and had driven a clear wedge in that side of the family. Kristen kind of thought that was sad and wouldn’t have done anything to aggravate the situation.

  “Good.” Gwen nodded and turned around. “Then, that case, I’ll be out back enjoying a smoke.”

  Kristen really did want to tell her it was a bad and dangerous habit, not to mention it yellowed teeth, but she held her tongue. Not only was she a guest in Gwen’s house, but she also had a feeling Gwen suffered enough criticism. Instead, she returned to her room and began setting about settling in.

  It didn’t take long. She hadn’t brought much, leaving her with little to do and even less after Gwen went out for the night. She cautioned Kristen not to wait up, but she ended staying up until two in the morning, unable to sleep in the strange and too-quiet house.

  It was weird, and she found herself wandering around, taking in all of Gwen’s possessions. Gwen might have bought her furniture used, but the antique china she had on display had to have cost a pretty penny. So, too, must have the large new TV affixed to the wall on the covered back porch.

  The porch clearly served as the main living room as far as Kristen could tell. There was a little mini fridge out there, along with furniture that had to have cost a decent amount of money. Gwen was clearly not hurting for cash, and that gave Kristen a little hope that maybe one day she could have her own covered back porch, though she didn’t think she’d put her TV there.

  A sewing center, though…that would be a dream come true. She could have a big garden to grow flowers and a sunny room to do her crafts in, and maybe even a cat or two. Kristen was more than aware of how spinstery those plans sounded but couldn’t help the way she felt.

  She liked crafting, and she liked cats, and she also liked tall, good-looking deputies. It was around midnight when her determination to ignore the embarrassing incident earlier that day wore down and thoughts of the easy-smiling deputy warmed through her. By then she was lying in bed, staring into the darkness and wondering just what it would be like to feel his lips against hers.

  The kiss he’d brushed against her hand had been soft and velvety smooth, tantalizing her with feelings she’d never experienced before. Kristen was sure that Deputy Hammel couldn’t say the same. After all, just because she didn’t have personal experience with men didn’t mean Kristen couldn’t spot a player.

  How could he not be?

  With those twinkling eyes and that hard body, the deputy undoubtedly had women throwing themselves at him everywhere he went. That thought irritated her slightly, and Kristen swore she would not become one of his adoring acolytes. After all, she might not agree with her mother about saving oneself for the pleasures of the marriage bed, but Kristen wasn’t going to start sleeping with just any man.

  She did believe in commitment.

  Commitment and respect, the two qualities a man had to demonstrate himself capable of before Kristen gave herself to him. She was certain that man was out there, and she would find him when the time was right. First, though, she had her own future to conquer.

  That future would begin tomorrow when she reported to the county’s human resources office and got the paperwork started so she could begin her job next week. Kristen was looking forward to working.

  More than that, she was looking forward to having the money to buy a car. A car meant freedom. It also meant she’d be able to reach the college when she enrolled. Kristen would need to save up some money first.

  That was what she should be focusing on. Kristen didn’t have time for crushes, but that didn’t stop her from dreaming about the deputy when she finally drifted asleep. He was also why she woke up sweating with her heart pounding and an ache in an unmentionable part of her body.

  Confused and embarrassed by the things she’d let the deputy do in her dreams, Kristen tried in vain to push them away, but the need only followed her through her shower. She probably could have taken care of it herself, but she didn’t do that kind of thing. It was dirty, and the very idea had her blushing as she scrubbed all the harder at her limbs, pointedly avoiding other parts of her body, but what really needed to be cleaned was her mind.

  Singing gospel hymns beneath her breath in an attempt to purify her thoughts, Kristen got dressed for her first day of work, choosing her best Sunday outfit in the hopes of creating a perfect first impression. She wasn’t certain she succeeded when Gwen stumbled into the kitchen not five minutes later in an outfit that showed a good deal of leg and a large amount of bosom.

  “Good God.” Gwen stumbled to a halt to wrinkle her nose at Kristen and give her the once-over. “You’re not going to work dressed like that, are you?”

  “What’s wrong with this outfit?” Kristen frowned, glancing down at her floral print dress and wondering how it could possibly be worse than what Gwen was wearing. “It’s my best dress.”

  “You look like a grandmom!” Gwen shot back. “Take it off.”

  “What?”

  “I’ll get you something better to wear,” Gwen assured her as she disappeared back out of the kitchen, leaving Kristen far from comforted. She jerked forward, racing out into the hall after her cousin.

  “I don’t think⎯”

  “Don’t think,” Gwen cut her off without slowing down a step. “That’s a good thing because all you’re thinking about is what your mama would say, and she’s old. You’re not, unless you failed to notice.”

  Gwen paused to shoot Kristen a pointed look before shoving her bedroom door back open and wading into the clutter as she cut a path through the mounds of clothes and assorted undergarments that littered the floor. Kristen stared in wide-eyed horror at the mess as Gwen kicked a pair of shoes with impossibly long and pointed heels out of her way.

  “Now, let’s see what we can find.”

  Gwen ripped open the folding doors to her closet and burrowed into the pile of clothes that damn n
ear fell out on top of her. In short order, things began to fly back out over her shoulder as Gwen muttered and commented to herself, talking about Kristen in a way that she could have found offensive.

  “No, that’s too short, you’ll never agree…you don’t have the boobs for that top…and this dress, I’m sure your mother has taught you not to show your arms, too…Here we go! This will do.”

  “Uh…” Kristen stared in horror at the outfit Gwen selected. “I don’t wear pants.”

  “What are you? In a cult?” Gwen snorted. “Now, unless you want to wear a mini, it’s the pants.”

  “Why do you care what I wear anyway?” Kristen demanded to know, not sure why she suddenly deserved such attention from her cousin.

  While Gwen may be helping her out, she rarely actually paid Kristen much mind, but today was different. Gwen wasn’t, though. She was still the same vain person she’d always been, and so was her consideration.

  “Listen, Kristen, I have a reputation in this town, and you’re not going to ruin it with your grandmom dresses. So take it off, or I’ll tear it off.”

  Gwen probably would, too. She was known for her poor impulse control, and Kristen couldn’t imagine her reputation was such that she could damage Gwen’s good name. Still, she was helping Kristen out, and Kristen did want to change. Pants were preferable to ass-crack-revealing minis.

  “Fine.” Taking a deep breath and accepting that this was her chance to try something new, Kristen took the outfit from Gwen. “I’ll change.”

  Chapter 3

  An hour later Kristen was still fidgeting with her clothes. She felt like a woman in drag and strangely tall, thanks to the too-high heels Gwen had insisted she wear. Gwen had been full-on bossy that morning, taking over not only Kristen’s outfit choices and shoes but also doing her makeup and hair.

  Now her hair curled in waves that it never had, and she could see the shadow of her lashes thanks to the goops of mascara making them longer than they naturally were. Her lips felt caked with waxy lipstick, her cheeks hot beneath the layers of foundation and blush.

  So actually she felt kind of like a clown in drag.

  It was horrible, and she swore everybody was staring at her. What the lady at the human resources office must have thought, Kristen didn’t know. At least, she’d been polite enough not to comment but hadn’t been merciful enough not to send Kristen down the street to the sheriff’s office to get fingerprinted.

  It was a requirement for the job and a long walk down the busy main street. She got beeped at twice and whistled at once. Kristen didn’t take any of those as compliments. She swore then and there that tomorrow she was wearing her own dress and doing her own makeup. That wouldn’t save her right then, and as she shoved through the door into the sheriff’s office, things grew worse rather than better.

  “Oh my God.” An all-too-familiar voice called out in a thick a draw filled with amusement. “It’s Miss Kristen…and it looks like you grew up overnight.”

  Kristen stilled at that observation, her gaze cutting across the sheriff’s department’s small lobby to the large wooden counter that divided the deputies’ desks from the public waiting area. That counter was being manned by none other than Deputy Hammel, who cut her one of his big, double-dimple smiles that only made Kristen feel all the more awkward as she hobbled across the floor tiles, not steady in the slightest on her heels. A fact that the deputy seemed to take instant note of.

  “You okay there, Miss Kristen?” he asked, quirking up a brow as the mirth sparkled in his mesmerizing gaze.

  Kristen found it impossible to look him in the eye and think at the same time. Fortunately, she didn’t have to think. She didn’t even have to speak. Brandon’s buddy said it all as he perked up, popping out of his seat at his desk to pin her with a curious look.

  “Miss Kristen? Is this the virgin you keep talking about?”

  He said that loud enough to draw just about everybody’s notice, and Kristen felt herself flushing hot with a volatile mixture of embarrassment and indignation.

  “I beg your pardon.” Kristen stiffened up and almost fell over, not fully balanced on her heels.

  “Don’t pay him any mind.” Brandon waved away her perfectly justifiable outrage. “He’s just teasing.”

  “But that doesn’t mean I’m lying. He has been talking about you for hours,” the other man revealed as he nodded at Brandon, who shot him a dirty look. The deputy didn’t seem to care or even notice. He was too busy pointedly checking Kristen out. “And I’ve got to say I can see why. You’re a cute one…except for the makeup. Honey, it’s not supposed to be painted on.”

  “I…I…I…” She didn’t know what to say to that. Kristen blinked and glanced down at the card in her hands and decided to simply ignore both men’s inappropriate comments.

  “I need this filled out.” She lifted the fingerprint card toward them and kept her tone as formal and polite as she could. “I don’t suppose either one of you could assist me with this, or perhaps there’s another deputy available?”

  “I’m always available for you, Miss Kristen,” Brandon instantly assured her, taking the card from her as he started to nod toward the small gate cut into the counter. “Why don’t you⎯”

  “Give that to me.” His buddy cut Brandon off, snatching the card out of his hand. “After all, you are assigned to the front desk. You can’t leave your station.”

  “You could cover,” Brandon shot back, his tone hardening slightly as he turned on his fellow deputy.

  “I could, but I won’t.” The man stepped around him with that sharp retort and offered Kristen a smile. “Please, come this way, Miss Kristen.”

  “It’s Miss Harold,” Kristen corrected him primly, wishing Brandon had won that argument.

  Whatever he’d said about her, she felt certain she was in safer hands with him. This deputy, on the other hand, was unnerving with his bluntness and his sparkling blue eyes. He was a handsome fellow, as tall and thick as Deputy Hammel but with a more rakish smile and cut features that Kristen didn’t trust.

  “I guess I stand corrected.” The man bowed formally, earning a round of chuckles from the other deputies, who all seemed to be watching them now. “Please, my lady, would you mind stepping this way.”

  She would, but Kristen didn’t have a choice, and so she stepped through the gate the deputy held open and all but fell over as she missed the step down. Kristen couldn’t catch her balance on the heels and went crashing into the deputy, who caught her with one arm and pinned her against his hard frame.

  Kristen had never been pressed up against a man so closely or felt him so intimately pressing back against her. Her eyes rounded and darted up to his as her mouth fell open in shock. He was hard. His penis, it was huge.

  And he was thumping against her!

  Kristen jerked back in shock, stumbling over her heels once again. This time there was nobody to catch her. Kristen went down hard, causing about every deputy to leap to their feet. Unfortunately there was only one close enough to scoop her off the ground.

  Kristen let out a squeal as she found herself suddenly levitating in a set of strong arms. The deputy’s heady, heated scent washed over her, leaving her feeling intoxicated and wobbly on the heels she found herself having to balance on once again.

  “I’m sorry about that, Miss Harold. I should have warned you about the step,” the deputy apologized as he held on to her arm, keeping her steady as now concerned eyes raked over her. “You didn’t hurt anything, did you?”

  Nothing more than her pride and dignity.

  “Get out of the way.” Deputy Hammel came rushing up to shove the deputy’s body back, forcing the man to let go and leaving Kristen still in a slight daze as she watched the two bicker.

  “Hey, man, don’t push me.”

  “Then don’t be getting in my way.”

  “What the hell is going on out here?”

  The commanding tone cut that question through the air with a wealth of irritation
that had all the deputies stiffening with a sudden tension. That included the two deputies in front of her. They quickly shuffled back out of the sheriff’s way as the man cut across the floor to confront the two of them. Barely sparing Kristen a glance, he pinned the two deputies in front of her with a hard look.

  “I asked you two a question. I’d think, between the two of you, one would have an answer.”

  “I’m sorry, sir,” Deputy Hammel quickly answered. “Dylan here was just assisting the lady with a fingerprint sheet when she took a little stumble.”

  “Is that right?” The sheriff glanced over at her, pinning her with a look that assured Kristen he didn’t believe the deputy for a moment.

  She could have ratted them both out, could have made a scene, but that was what her mother would have done. Kristen didn’t want to end up like her, all judgmental and critical of everything. So, instead, she plastered on a smile and lied, for the first time ever.

  “Yes. I’m just…clumsy I guess.”

  He knew she was lying, and he wasn’t pleased, but Kristen didn’t crumble beneath his stare. The sheriff might be large and in charge, but he had nothing on her mother when it came to glaring a person into confessing. He figured that out after a moment.

  “And you are?”

  “Kristen Harold.” She extended a hand along with that introduction. “I’ve just started working over at the city office, and I needed to get fingerprinted.”

  “Nice to meet you, Miss Harold. I’m Sheriff Krane.”

  The man took her hand, squeezing a little hard as he pumped it once in a firm shake. She had a feeling it was his routine shake because the man appeared more interested in continuing to stare at her as he held on to her hand for a little longer than appropriate.

  “Do I know you from somewhere? You look kind of familiar.”

  “She’s Gwen’s cousin,” Deputy Hammel offered with a look that told Kristen instantly she was looking at, yet, another one of Gwen’s conquests. From the sheriff’s frown, things hadn’t ended well.