Cowgirls Don't Cry(5)

“Oh. That’s sweet. Okay, maybe not sweet, and wow, I never imagined you had such a violent streak, Brandt. It’s kinda scary.”


You have no idea.

Jessie made a noise that sounded like a choked laugh.

“What?”


“Then again, maybe you’d be doing a service to womankind, cutting out his tongue. Because, man, he really did not know how to use it.”


Jesus, Mary and Joseph give him strength to survive this discussion with Jessie about oral sex, vibrators, tongues, abstinence and…nope. The devil had taken over his thoughts and was conjuring up some smokin’ hot scenarios, adding in rope for fun.

When she thrashed to get more comfortable, Brandt looked over to double check she hadn’t wiggled too close to the door handle. He hit the automatic locks as a precaution.

Always looking out for her, aren’t you?

Somebody has to.

The rest of the drive might’ve been awkward if she’s kept peppering him with questions about sex and freely offering her own insight. But she either drifted off or pretended to, and Brandt was grateful for the reprieve. Didn’t keep his brain from offering advice in case she suddenly became chatty again.

At the turnoff to her trailer, Jessie stirred. After he parked by her front porch steps, she faced him. Not with a sheepish look, as he expected, but with a resigned look. “Thank you. I’m sorry you had to…” She gestured wildly. “Be party to my humiliation tonight.”


“It wasn’t—”


She held up her hand. “It was. And you don’t have to be nice about it. So thank you. Please…now that I’ve had time to think about what an idiot I was, I never want to talk about it again, okay?”


Brandt bit back, No, it’s not okay, goddammit, what the hell were you thinking tonight?

“In fact, I don’t want any kind of reminder of tonight.”


Like he’d ever forget this night.

“Get rid of it. Burn it, use it as a rag, I don’t care.”


He refocused on her. “Get rid of what?”


“This.” She unwrapped the comforter from around her body and shoved it between them.

Then Jessie was as naked as a newborn babe, in the front seat of his truck.

Oh no. No, no, no.

Brandt was so pole-axed he couldn’t make his mouth work when Jessie bounced out of his truck and strolled to her house, wearing nothing but her birthday suit.

If he hadn’t been so busy gawking at her perfectly pear-shaped ass, or if he hadn’t become mesmerized by the sassy way her hair teased the dimples above that perfectly pear-shaped ass, or if he hadn’t been drooling over the way her long-legged strides made that perfectly pear-shaped ass shake so jauntily, he might’ve remembered Jessie had warned him that he didn’t know her as well as he thought he did.

When she turned in the doorway and blew him a kiss, Brandt realized he should’ve listened to her.

He also understood some things hadn’t changed, namely Jessie’s brotherly feelings toward him. So he’d do as she asked, pretend this night never happened, and continue to stay away from her, as hard as that would be.

Chapter One


Four months later…


Talk about being a total chickenshit. Here she was, twenty-seven years old, doing her best wallflower imitation again.

Story of your life, Jessie McKay.

At least she’d had the foresight to bring along a couple of beers for company. Or solace. Or courage.

Jessie swigged from the bottle of Corona as she watched the newlyweds swaying to an old George Strait tune. Keely and Jack fit the love song they’d chosen for their first dance as husband and wife. The happy couple only had eyes for each other, despite repeated attempts from Keely’s assorted male family members to cut in. Although Jack used a charming smile to dissuade interruption, a possessive male lurked beneath his polished demeanor.