Shoulda Been a Cowboy (Rough Riders #7)(46)

“Now, Hop-along, we’re both gonna have to ride side saddle on the four-wheeler.”


Cam lurched toward the ATV. He was sweating, muddy and livid he was gasping for air after walking ten f*cking steps. Once his lungs weren’t failing him, he forced words out through his compressed teeth, “Thanks. It’d be easiest if I sat on the left side so I can brace myself with my right leg.”


“That’ll work.” Brock waited until Cam situated himself before he climbed on the four-wheeler. “Ready?”


“Let’s go.”


Brock drove like a little old lady. They bumped through the field so slowly that Gracie—who’d raced ahead—was napping on the back deck by the time they’d returned to the house. Cam fought another burst of temper while Brock trudged inside for his crutches.


At least Cam could hobble into his house under his own steam. He’d barely cleared the welcome mat when Brock spoke behind him.


“If you don’t need my help, I’ll run back and get that other four-wheeler.”


“Run? It’s like five miles in,” Cam said.


“I haven’t done PT today so it’ll be good for me.” Brock’s pearly whites flashed. “Plus, it ain’t often I get a chance to run in the rain and sling mud from the tires.”


“Have a ball.” Truthfully, Cam needed time to put himself back together. Literally.


A few hours later, after Cam and Brock cleaned up, they were glued to an MMA event on the big screen. Things were back to normal, placing bets and shouting insults about the opposing competitor. Cam’s work phone buzzed in his pocket. “Shit.” He hit mute on the TV. “McKay. Uh-huh. No. It’s okay, I know exactly where it is. I’ll be there in a bit.” He shut the phone.


“What?”


“Deb can’t find a file and since Sheriff Shortbull is in the office, she doesn’t feel comfortable picking the lock on my desk to get it. So I have to go in. Won’t take long.”


Brock’s gaze fell to Cam’s left side. “You sure you’re up for it? You did crash today. Maybe you should tell them—”


“I’m fine.”


“Then you’d better get some beer while you’re out. I’ll just hold down the couch—ooh, Jesus that had to hurt.”


Cam rolled his eyes. Brock was obsessed with MMA; he probably wouldn’t notice Cam was gone.


Brock shouted, “Hey, pick up some food too. I’m starving and neither of us can cook worth a shit.”


Domini had driven out to return Cam’s shirt, which she’d washed, pressed and hung up. But Cam’s truck wasn’t around and a cute red sports car sat next to the garage.


And yes, maybe she wanted to meet the guy who hadn’t given up on Cam in Iraq. But Cam hadn’t invited her over. Maybe Cam didn’t want his friend to know about her.



Just drop off the shirt and leave.


Cursing her flip-flopping behavior, she grabbed the plastic bag and headed for the front door.


Several minutes passed before a nearly bald man, wearing camo and a Vin Diesel scowl, loomed in the doorway. “Yes?”


“Is Cam here?”


“Nope.”


“Oh. Well, I stopped by to drop off his shirt.”


“Who are you?”


“Domini, umm Domini Katzinski. I’ll just leave it—”


“How do you know Cam, Domini, umm, Domini Katzinski?”


What was with the sarcasm and the third degree? Was this guy a cop? Too bad she didn’t have the guts to snap off, “I’m f*cking Cam. What’s it to you, *?” Instead, she said, “We’re…friends.”


“And your friend Cam just happened to leave a dress shirt at your house?”


Shoot.


“Does this happen often?”


“No. It was the first time.”


His sharp gaze softened and those melted chocolate eyes widened. Then his mouth broke into an enormous grin that would’ve made her weak-kneed—if she hadn’t already succumbed to the power of Cam McKay’s smile. “Why don’t you come in?”


“That’s not nec—”


“I insist.” The guy strong-armed her into the house. He flashed that devastating smile again. “I’m Brock Tennyson. Cam and I go back to basic training.”


“Cam mentioned you’d planned to visit.” This Brock guy was absolutely mouthwatering. Brown eyes and skin the color of rich coffee. He was built like a dream, deeply cut muscular arms, a contoured chest, trim hips and waist, yet he wasn’t as impossibly muscle bound as Cam.


“Funny, Cam didn’t mention you, sweet Domini.”


“I’m not surprised.” Since it’s just sex between us.


“Cam’ll be back any minute. Would you like a beer while you wait?”


Say no. “Maybe just one.”


“That’s a girl.”


Domini followed Brock and froze in the entryway into the kitchen. “Is Gracie here?”