Branded as Trouble (Rough Riders #6)(6)

If you’re such a loser, why does India end up with you all the time anyway?


Good question. They were together at least three times a week—not all of them A.A. related. Colt knew her love life was as pathetic as his. Did her feisty, in-your-face personality scare men away? Or was it the tattoos, piercings, and hard-edged eyes that kept men wary? Hell, it was hard to pick which of those characteristics was his favorite when it came to Indy.


Yeah, they were a pair all right.


Sprawled in an unfamiliar bed, dissecting why his life was a mess even when he was clean and sober, Colt squinted at the caller ID when his phone vibrated. “Hey Cam. What’s up?”


“Just checking in. How you feeling?”


“Shitty.”


“I figured. Anyway, I called Dad and told him I’d run into you at the diner and you were on your way out of town for the weekend.


So you’re clear until Monday.”


“What did Dad say?”


“Nothin’ worth repeating.”


With some of the family issues he’d had recently, it was a relief Cam had his back, since his other brothers probably would say something smart about his weekend getaway. “Thanks.”


“No problem. I’m working a twelve-hour shift from noon to midnight tomorrow. You need anything?”


“Yeah. Extra clothes. Bring me a pair of sweats since the ones that were in my gym bag stink.”


“Will do. Anything else?”


“Where’s my truck?”


“I moved it to the fenced lot behind the building. Why?”


“Just wanted to make sure it was outta sight.”


“I am a cop. I did actually think about stuff like that.”


“Sorry.”


“Get some rest.”


“It’s about the only thing I can do.” The second the words left his mouth Colt wanted to suck them back in. His piss-ant injury was nothing compared to what Cam had suffered. In combat. On the other side of the planet. Alone. Or what he suffered every day, dealing with his handicap, physically and emotionally. “Shit, man, I’m sorry.”


“Nothin’ to be sorry about, bro. See you tomorrow.”


Chapter Three


Colt was bored out of his f*cking mind.


He’d tried to sleep. But every time he’d dozed off, oh-so-helpful India popped in to check on him. And for some bizarre reason, checking on him meant touching him. She’d place her cool hands on his forehead. On his cheek. Then on the back of his neck.


The last time she’d barged in, he barely stopped from demanding she wrap her hands around his cock because that’s where he was the most feverish.


Yeah, he was definitely punchy.



Colt’s cell phone vibrated. He checked the caller ID. Cam.


“Hey. You out keepin’ the peace?”


“Trying to. It’ll be a challenge later since it’s Saturday night.


Got my fill of drunken cowboys fightin’ last weekend.”


“That part of your duty ain’t gonna end anytime soon. Maybe you should’ve taken Dad up on his offer of workin’ with us.”


“Fuck off.”


He smiled, regardless if Cam couldn’t see it. Amused the hell out of him to tease his younger brother, just because he could.