August Heat (2 page)

Chapter One

October

“Look. If you put
the damned thing there it’s going to throw the whole room off.” Marly’s voice
was irritated, aggravated.

“It will make the
room appear unique,” Heather argued. “It looks perfect there.”

“It’s not even
centered,” Sarah piped in. “Really, Marly, that picture isn’t going to work.”

The picture in
question was an aerial view of the house grounds. Unfortunately, Marly didn’t
want to move the large, older map-styled picture of the ranch from over the
fireplace. It had been hanging there for as long as the ranch house had stood
on that spot. She wanted both pictures.

“You could hang
this one in the dining room,” Heather argued. “It would look good there.”

“I want it in
here.”

“It’s not going to
work.”

“Only if you
center it.”

And the argument
was off again.

Cade escaped
through the doorway with a growing sense of male horror and split a direct path
to the kitchen and the coffee he prayed was waiting there for him. He found the
coffee. The coffee and Sam and Brock, heads lowered, resignation marking their
faces.

“What the hell is
going on in there?” Cade questioned the other two men. “They act like they’re
ready to tear each other’s hair out.”

“No, that was this
morning. When the picture first arrived,” Brock sighed. “They’ve been crazy
ever since Marly had Drace. You gotta do something about this, Cade.”

Cade crossed his
arms over his chest and stared at Brock in no small amount of surprise. “And
you expect me to do what?”

Drace was nearly
six months old and growing daily. Cade had never known such a sense of love, of
responsibility, as he did when he stared at his infant son. Nor such a sense of
terror. How to protect him? No matter his age. To instill in him the strength
of a man, the acceptance and the honor it would take to survive in the world.

“Hell if I know,”
Brock mumbled. “Those three women have gone crazy. I swear they have.”

“Yeah. And they’re
wearing panties again, too,” Sam bitched. “What’s with that shit? I touch
Heather and she pats me on the head like I’m Drace’s age and goes about her
business.”

They were horny.
They were all horny. Not that they had been cut off…exactly. Just seriously
restricted. Cade hadn’t anticipated this. Drace was his pride and joy, but
there were days he exhausted Marly. And during those days, being with Sarah or
Heather wasn’t the answer, either. The shift in the family dynamics had come
about slowly, but it had settled like a comfortable shirt across their
shoulders.

“I feel like I’m a
fucking kid again,” Sam sighed. “Trying to seduce my favorite girl. Heather’s
worse than a virgin some days.”

They were bitching
about it, but Cade could hear a thread of amusement, feel the slowly building
tension and anticipation growing in them all. He shook his head and headed for
the coffee pot. He’d be damned if he knew what the three of those women were up
to, but he knew it was something.

“And they keep
mentioning presents,” Brock pointed out. “What do you buy them? Hell, I can’t
think of anything they don’t have that we can afford.”

“I offered Heather
a trip.” Sam sounded more than bemused now. “Anywhere she wanted to go, for
however long. Thought she was going to cry. And not because she was happy,
either.”

Uh oh. Cade turned
back to them slowly.

“Yeah. Same with
Sarah.” Brock shook his head. “I took her to look at new cars, and she acted like
I broke her heart.”

Cade had tried
several different suggestions with Marly. She smiled. Acted enthusiastic over
each but there was no missing the sadness in her eyes. Christmas was only weeks
away now. There wasn’t much time left and he had no idea what the hell she
wanted.

“Has Sarah even
given you any hints?” Sam asked Brock desperately. “Hasn’t Heather mentioned
anything to her?”

“Not a damned
thing,” Brock griped. “I even asked her what the others wanted. She told me to
stop being a man and to figure it out.” Insulted male ego echoed in his voice. “How
does one stop being a man?” he grunted irritably.

“By being a woman,”
Sam snickered. “Want us to buy you a thong for Christmas, bro?”

Brock hurled a
biscuit at his cackling brother, hitting him in the forehead even as Sam tried
to duck. Crumbs rained down as it broke apart, littering Sam’s broad chest with
the baked flour.

“Cut it out. Both
of you.” Cade grabbed for one of the few remaining biscuits. Heather had made
them, obviously. They were light and flaky, damned near melting in his mouth
when he bit into one.

“How about a
housekeeper?” He frowned as he thought of all the extra work involved in the
house now. “Someone to just come in through the day.”

They all stilled.
At any given time during the workday, they could sneak in for a few minutes of
heated, lusty sex wherever they found one of the women. Cade sobered at that
thought. Or at least it used to be. He frowned. He hadn’t touched Sarah or
Heather since Drace’s birth. He was spending too much time trying to get into
his own wife’s pants. Like the other two, she was as hard to seduce these days
as a nervous virgin.

“Yeah, maybe that
would be a good idea.” Sam straightened in his chair. “Hell, Heather gets out
of bed too damned early to fix breakfast anyway. I never get to touch her in
the morning anymore. That could work.”

“At least we don’t
have to worry about a housekeeper walking in on anything anymore,” Cade said
wearily. “Damned if I want any more talk circulating around town about our
lives. I’d like to see it settle down a bit before Drace is old enough to go to
school.”

The other two
sighed. They had talked about this before. They had never given much thought to
what those in town gossiped about. They were careful of their wives’ reputations,
and were feared enough that nothing was said or done to hurt the women. But
they knew how cruel and thoughtless other children could be. It wasn’t
something they wanted Drace to suffer for.

“Might be a good
idea,” Sam said slowly. “Thanksgiving is coming around. We could have a big
dinner. Maybe let the girls invite some of the friends they’ve made. The best
way to ensure Drace’s future is to make certain he has the loyalty needed to
overcome anything that gets thrown at him.”

Everyone had hated
old Joe so badly that torturing his boys had been a favorite game. Cade would
be damned if he would see his son tortured that way.

“Okay.” Cade
breathed in slowly. “I’ll call Marie and see if she can find us someone.”

Marie had been
their housekeeper while they were growing up. She was retired now, living
comfortably on the fund Cade had set up for her years before. She would be more
than willing to help. They were still her favorite boys, she claimed each time
they drove over to make certain she had groceries, medicine, whatever she
needed.

“Good plan. But
that’s not going to fix Christmas for us,” Sam warned him. “A housekeeper is
not a good enough present.”

Cade shook his
head. “Damned if I know yet. I’ll see if Marly is any more forthcoming tonight
than she has been in the past weeks. We might get lucky.”

Chapter Two

She wasn’t. Cade
stared at Marly in the privacy of their bedroom after putting Drace to bed, a
frown on his face.

“You don’t want a
housekeeper?” he asked her, confused as frustration flashed in her expression
after he made the offer.

“A housekeeper is
fine, Cade.” Oh, he hated that tone of voice. Where the hell had his sweet,
passionate little wife gone?

“Then what was
with the look?” He faced her, hands on hips, his eyes going over her overly dressed
body. “And what’s with the clothes? What happened to your dresses, anyway?”

She frowned
darkly. “It’s getting cold, Cade. I like my jeans.”

“Not that damned
cold, it’s not.” He felt like a sulky child and he was certain he looked like
one. “Dammit, Marly, you look good in the dresses.”

But she looked
damned fine in the jeans, too. They molded her body like a second skin,
smoothing over her slender legs, emphasizing her small waist and flat stomach.

“I like the jeans
for now.” She shrugged. “We’ll discuss dresses when it gets warmer. Unless you
want me to freeze to death, that is.” She arched a brow in question.

Cade’s eyes
narrowed.

“Fine. This room
is plenty warm anyway. Wear the jeans outside it, but at least take them off
while you’re in here.”

Her eyes rounded
as though she were scandalized. “What if Drace cries? I’m not trotting into my
son’s room naked.”

Cade wanted to
roll his eyes. “He’s a baby, Marly. You breastfed him, for God’s sake.”

“That doesn’t mean
I intend to run around naked in front of him.” She crossed her arms under her
breasts.

Cade’s mouth
watered at the sight of those soft mounds beneath her light sweater. His cock
throbbed. He was walking around in a nearly constant state of arousal.

“Then put a robe
on.” He forced the words past his gritted teeth. “Marly, baby, you’re pushing a
desperate man here.”

What was that
glimmer that flashed in her gaze? As though she were stilling a flare of
anticipation. How long had it been since he had paddled her ass for playing
games with him? He hid his smile. Let her keep playing. He couldn’t wait to
watch those tender curves redden; hear her screaming for release.

The baby’s nursery
was on the other side of the bathroom. Pretty much protected from the sounds of
her arousal and completion. He checked the monitor at the side of the bed. It
was on. No danger. His hands itched to touch her. Hell, it had been before the
baby was born since he had sunk his cock up her tight ass. He could take her,
show her the dangers of pushing him so far. Hell, that was most likely why she
was pushing him. She loved it as much, if not more, than he did.

“A desperate man,”
she snorted softly, her eyes filled with warmth and amusement. “Really, Cade.
You act like you haven’t been touched in months.”

His eyes narrowed
at the deliberately provocative sound of her voice. Her nipples were hard. He
could see them beneath her sweater.

“Days,” he
growled.

She gave him a
moue of false pity. “Poor baby. But I’m sure things will settle down soon.”

Cade knew she was
more than aware that he wasn’t about to go to Sarah or Heather, so he wasn’t
exactly certain what the hell she was up to. And from his conversation with his
brothers earlier, the other two women were no more forthcoming than his own
wife was.

“Is this about
Christmas?” he finally asked her point blank, wondering what the hell was up
with the subtle little game he sensed was being played. “Am I supposed to be
catching hints that I’m missing about presents?”

He saw it then. A
flash of fire in her eyes. Almost a sense of frustration or anger. Okay. So
this was about hints.

“Marly, tell me
what you want,” he chided her gently. “I’m not good at the hint, baby. You know
that.”

“I don’t know what
you’re talking about.” She shrugged, but he could feel a sense of hurt
involved.

She knew damned
good and well what he was talking about and she had no intention of
enlightening him. Something tightened in Cade. A sense of fear. Could he be
wrong? Maybe this wasn’t about Christmas after all. Was he losing her? He had
heard horror stories of the changes in women after the birth of a child. Marly
was young. Had she really been too young to know what she wanted? To understand
the commitment it had taken to love him? Had he destroyed it all?

He tried to still
the rush of agony that resonated through him at the thought. The need to take
her, hard and deep, to make certain he still held at least that part of her. He
tightened his body instead. Steeled himself against the nightmares that rose
inside his soul.

She had lost
everything he had tried to give her from the moment she had been brought to
him. Her innocence. Her fairy tale dreams of love and marriage. Her fantasy of
her mother and a mother’s love. It would be enough to destroy anyone.
Especially someone as gentle, as filled with love, as his Marly.

“Look at you,” she
sighed. “You’re closing up on me. Freezing me out, just like you always do. I
hate it when you do that, Cade.”

He watched her
quietly. He saw love in her eyes. They were soft, shimmering. But there was
something more, and that unknown quality had the potential to be his worst
nightmare.

“What do you want,
Marly?” He kept his voice cool, kept a tight rein on the emotions clashing
inside him.

Her gaze flashed
with anger. “I want you to stop expecting the worst,” she snapped. “Any time
you don’t understand something going on inside me you lock up. Like you expect
me to start spouting hatred and judgmental accusations. It’s like, even now,
you can’t accept just how much I do love you.”