Cowgirls Don't Cry(75)

“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*cking 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*cker 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.