COWBOY ROMANCE: Justin (Western Contemporary Alpha Male Bride Romance) (The Steele Brothers Book 1) (163 page)

Now Shay understood why the killer had thrown the shotgun.  “Oh, no.”

Tom nodded.  “They’ll think I murdered him.”

Chapter Three             

              “After we moved to Wyoming my folks meant to sell the place,” Shay said as Tom drove around the back of the property and parked his pick-up inside the barn.  “But they never accepted any offers.  Not that anyone wanted to pay a lot for an old house in the woods.  Tom, what are we going to do?”

              “We’ll figure it out.”  He grabbed the rifle before he came around to open the door and help her down.  “Let’s get inside.”

              The interior of the old two-story house still contained all the antique furniture Shay’s family had used during her childhood.  Tom paused to switch on the main power breaker, and then checked the house phone line.

              “That won’t work,” Shay told him, and disappeared into the kitchen before she came back with two water bottles.  She offered him one.  “I keep some supplies and stuff here in case I want to spend the night.  It’s silly, but I always feel safer here than at a hotel.”

              Tom heard how her voice wavered and pulled her into his arms, holding her close.  “It’s all right, Shay.  We just have to be smart.”

              She nodded against his chest and heaved a long sigh before she stepped back.  “I’ve got my old laptop upstairs.  We should use it to check the local news, and see what they’re saying about the murder.”                                 Tom’s pocket silently buzzed.  “You go on up.  I have to get something out of the truck.”

              Once Shay went upstairs Tom walked out and took out his phone.  The words “Unknown Caller” showed on the display, and when he answered it, a cold voice came over the line.  “Did you enjoy your last meal, Cowboy?  I was worried after seeing Bramson you’d puke it up.  You should never write your real phone number on a restaurant check, by the way.” 

              Tom’s fingers tightened on the phone.  “Who are you?”

              “What matters is who I’m not,” the killer taunted.  “I’m not the guy who murdered the councilman.  You are, unless you bring me that rifle.”

Tom walked outside and glanced up at the light that went on in the upstairs window.  “If you wanted the rifle, why toss it to me?”

              “You know why.  I needed that old man to see you with it.”  The killer’s tone softened.  “What’s your girlfriend’s name?”

              The bastard didn’t know who Shay was, which meant they were safe here for now.  “Go to hell.”

“Come on, Cowboy,” the killer said.  “You don’t want me to come after you and your lady.  Things could get real ugly, real fast.”  He paused, and then said, “I’ll call you in the morning and we’ll set up the meet.  Pleasant dreams.”

              Tom shut off the phone and removed the battery and the sim card.  When he went back into the house, he bolted the door behind him.  Taking up the rifle, he checked the barrel and stock.

              Upstairs he found Shay in a little girl’s room, where she sat on the edge of a small bed.  Across from her sat a laptop playing a news video.  It showed a reporter standing at the edge of the park.

              “—on charges of extortion, racketeering, and money laundering,” the reporter said.  “The police have released these photos of the alleged killer and his accomplice, which were taken by an eye witness.”

              Smart phone photos of Tom and Shay appeared on the screen, clearly showing both their faces.

              Shay closed the laptop and stared up at him.  “Looks like I’m your partner in crime.”

              “I need your phone.”  When she gave it to him, Tom took it apart.  “The killer got my number off the restaurant check.  He wants the rifle back.  It doesn’t have a serial number.  Judging by the quality it’s probably a ghost gun, made in someone’s basement.  They’re completely untraceable.”

              Her brows drew together.  “Then why would he want it back?”

              “He doesn’t.  He wants me to think he does.”  He sat down beside her and took her hand in his.  “But there’s something he doesn’t know I have.”

#

              Shay stepped out of the shower and wrapped her hair in a towel before using another to dry off.  Down the hall Tom was doing the same in her parent’s bathroom.  Soon he’d come out in her Dad’s old robe, and she’d have to face him.

              Shay still felt furious with him.  Tom Boone wasn’t shy.  He was crazy, and his insane plan to trap the killer was going to get him killed. 

              All she had to wear were some old pajamas she kept at the house, which made her resemble a teen on a sleepover.  She eyed herself in the mirror, scowling at her freshly-washed face.  The annoyance kept her from replaying the murder over and over in her head.

Shay didn’t need to relive the horror.  They’d gotten away.  They were safe, for now.  Finally she was all alone with the guy of her dreams, and she hadn’t brought her make-up or curling iron or anything she needed to look good.  Tom would take one look at her and probably snicker himself into the hiccups.

              A gentle tap on the door made Shay yank it open.  “What?”

              Tom frowned down at her.  “You’ve got freckles.”

              “Yes, I do.”  She wanted to cry her eyes out, but instead planted her hands on her hips.  “I also have stick-straight hair.  Which is mud-brown under the highlights, by the way.”  She stalked past him and went down to her old bedroom.

              Tom followed and stood in the doorway watching her comb out her hair.  When she glanced at him he shrugged.  “I like freckles.” 

              “I don’t, which is why I wear the makeup I didn’t bring.  Next time I’ll plan on spending the night with a maniac.  God, I’m so tired of this.  All I wanted was a chance to be with you, and now I’ll only have one chance, and I can’t – I won’t–” Unable to go on, she tossed down the comb.  A sob escaped her as she buried her face in her hands.

              “Oh, no.”  Tom came in and drew her to her feet.  “It’ll be all right, Shay.  Don’t cry.”

              She gripped the front of the old robe.  “You can’t do this.  If you’re right, and this guy is who you said he is, he’s going to kill you.  He has to.”

“He won’t get a chance.”  Tom cradled her face between his palms.  “I need you to trust me, Shay.  Please.”

“You’re going to get shot,” she muttered, “and I still hate my freckles.  They make me feel so, I don’t know.  Girl-next-door, I guess.” 

“You are the hottest, sexiest woman I’ve ever known.”  Tom ran his hands down the length of her back.  “What you did to me on that bench in the park – I’ve never been so turned on in my life.  I almost fucked you right there, Shay.”

She bit her bottom lip.  “You should have fucked me, Tom.”  She gasped as he hauled her up in his arms.  “What are you doing?”

“What I should have done.”  He carried her down to her parents’ bedroom.  Once there he deposited her on their king-size mattress.  “We’ll have more room here.  Plus I need a better look at these freckles, too.”

“You won’t have to look hard.”  Her shoulders slumped.  “They’re all over me.  Head to toe.”          

              Tom sat down beside her.  “I think they’re cute.”

“Everyone does.”  She rested her head on his shoulder.  “That was my nickname growing up:  Cutey.”

“Ah.”  He put his arm around her.  “I think I’ve heard that name before  . . . quilt shop down south, isn’t it?”

“Yes, I’m named for my Aunt Shay, so she named her shop for me.”  She turned and pushed him back on the bed, climbing on top of him and holding him tightly.  “Please don’t do this, Tom, please.  I don’t want to lose you.”

“You won’t.”  His chest rose and fell.  “I promise, Cutey.”

Chapter Four

Raining kisses all over his face and neck didn’t help Shay to change Tom’s mind, but it did get her rolled onto her back.  Then he kissed her on the mouth, hard and hot, gliding his tongue against hers as he tugged up her pajama top.

“I’ve wanted you so damn long,” he said when he lifted his head, and looked down at the golden freckles on her full breasts.  “Well, hell.  They are all over, aren’t they?”

“I told you.”  Shay pushed the robe off his broad shoulders and ran her palms over the beautiful bulk of his muscles.  “But I’d rather have you all over me.”

Tom muttered something before he cupped one mound and began kissing and licking Shay’s stiff nipple.  He fondled her other breast as he did, and her spine arched as the need inside her swelled from urgent to outrageous.

“You know something?”  Tom shifted up, tugging her pajama bottoms off and looking down at her.  “I almost came in your hand in the park.”

Shay spread her legs a little.  “I almost put you in my mouth.”

“We’ll save that for later.  By the way, freckles aren’t really cute on a woman.”  He bent his head to kiss his way down her belly.  “They’re sexy.”

“Are they?”  Shay took in a quick breath as he nestled between her thighs.  “Okay.”

“You’ll have to change the name of the shop.”  Tom looked up at her, his violet eyes almost black as he pressed a kiss against the soft triangle of curls covering her mound.  “Sexy Quilts.”

“Or Spotty Quilts.”  A moan escaped her as he gave her a long, luscious lick with his tongue.  “Ah, Tom, oh – yes.”

As he lavished her damp folds, Tom parted them with his tongue.  He then lashed her hard, throbbing clit until she was shaking with need. 

“I want to be inside you when you come,” he murmured as he moved back over her, working the swollen head of his thick shaft against her until he found the fit.  “Oh, yeah.  Look at me, Cutey.  Look at me while I fuck this pretty pussy of yours.”

She tried to scowl at him, but the feel of his girth sinking into her made her eyelashes flutter.  It had been so long for her that taking all of Tom’s steel-hard thickness inside her body felt almost impossible.  Just as she was about to cross the line from pleasure to pain, a deep heat blossomed inside her.  The dark delight made her sex go liquid around his shaft.

Tom dragged in an uneven breath as he felt her surge of sweet wetness, and then he shook his head as if dazed now.

“It’s all for you,” she whispered to him.  “It was in the shop and the park and now here.  Anywhere you want me, I’m yours.  Take it.  Take me, Tommy.”

He began to move inside her, gently and slowly at first, and then with steady, firm thrusts.  She could hear their bodies working together now, and felt the electric excitement spreading through her.  She had Tom Boone inside her, and nothing in her life would ever be the same again.

Tom grunted as he went deeper, his thick cock bottoming out inside her pussy with every thrust now.  He covered her breast with his hand to squeeze it and rub her nipple before he slid his hand down.  Shay moaned as she felt him touch the aching pearl of her clit, and then cried out as he began stroking it with the same rhythm as he used to forge in and out of her pussy.

“You come for me, Shay,” Tom muttered as he caught her nub between his fingers, and gently pinched it.  “Now, all over me, now, now.”

Shay grabbed his shoulders as her body bowed under his.  The twin delights of his pumping shaft and pleasuring fingers drove her higher and higher.  Just when she thought she would snap in two Tom buried himself deep and kissed her.

A sharp cry burst from her throat as the climax took her off into the dark.  From there her body dissolved in an endless fountain of bliss.  As she poured through the delight, Shay tightened around Tom.  He jerked over her, his thick shaft swelling and then pulsing as he groaned and jetted his seed deep inside her.

As Shay tried to catch her breath Tom’s arms encircled her, rolling her with his big body as he moved them to their sides.  He looked into her face, his own alight with a stunned, sweet satisfaction.

“I do like these freckles, Shay,” he mentioned as he tucked a lock of her hair behind her ear.  “How tired are you again?”

Her heart skipped a beat.  “Not that tired.”

He rubbed his thumb across her lips.  “Want to show me what you were going to do with your mouth in the park?”

#

              Early the next morning Tom stood in the center of an enormous grass field.  The empty, open-air stadium seemed to magnify every bird call, every shift in the breeze, and every beat of his heart.  Not sleeping a wink last night should have left him exhausted, but he felt strangely calm and alert.  He’d had to wear out Shay, however, before he could get her to sleep.  He’d hated leaving her alone back at the house, but he didn’t want her in any more danger.  It had still been dark when he’d left to make arrangements. 

The minute he put his phone back together, the killer had called.  “You ready to do this?”

              “You want the rifle, come to this address.”  Tom gave it to the man, and then said, “It’s where they hold the county marching band competition, but no one will be there today.  Just me.  You just come out on the field, get the gun, and go.”

              “Smart choice, Cowboy,” the killer said.  “I’ll see you there in a few hours.”

              Tom expected the killer to sneak in and come up from behind him, but played dumb until he felt the business end of a handgun pressing against his spine.  “You must not want that rifle too bad.”

              “I don’t give a shit about the rifle, you dumb hick,” the killer told him, and gave him a shove.  “Walk.”

              “I really love marching bands,” Tom told him as he strolled toward the bleachers.  “They didn’t have these big-screen TVs when I was in school, though.  Would have made it a lot easier to watch some of their fancier moves.”

              Overhead the stadium’s four enormous display screens flickered on, and showed Councilman Bramson standing in the park with the killer.

              “My little brother put a mini-cam in my truck,” Tom mentioned as he glanced back to see the killer staring at the video.  “Has a nice, wide-angle lens, too.”

              A muzzle flash flared on the screens as the killer shot the politician, and then tossed his rifle at Tom.

              “But then as a cop, you’d know that,” Tom added.  “I saw the emergency light inside your unmarked sedan in the park.” 

              The killer pointed his gun at Tom’s face.  “You think this’ll stop me?  You’re dead, and tonight I’ll be drinking rum punch in the islands, you dumbass.”

              A shotgun slide pumped.  “Probably not,” Ethan Boone said as he stepped out of the bleachers, his twelve-gauge leveled at the killer.

              “Yeah, I have my doubts, too,” Caleb Boone mentioned as he walked out from the other side of the field, handguns in both fists.

              “This is just not your day, pal,” Chris Boone said as he stepped out from behind an equipment shed.  His semi-automatic gleamed black in the sunlight. 

              Liam Boone appeared at the top of the judges’ stand, and checked the scope on his sniper rifle before he simply crouched down and targeted the killer’s skull.

              “That guy up there is my brother, William,” Tom said.  “He was a sniper in the Army.  And he never misses.”

              The killer glanced around as a heavily armed SWAT team emerged behind the Boone brothers. 

“Put down the weapon,” the SWAT leader shouted. 

The killer carefully placed his gun on the grass before he raised his hands.  “I’ll make bail and come looking for you, Cowboy.  You and that snatch you were with last night.  You’re both dead.”

“Then you’re the dumbass.”  Tom spotted a slender figure hurrying out of the stands toward them, and started toward her.  He heard the killer scramble behind him, and hurled himself at Shay, knocking her to the ground as a dozen weapons fired over them.

Once Shay opened her eyes she glared.  “Are you hurt?”  When he shook his head she smiled.  “Good, because I’m going to hurt you now.”

Tom caught her fist before it connected with his face and kissed her, holding her struggling body until her arms wound around his neck.

“See?” Chris Boone said to Ethan and he and his brothers came to stand over Tom and Shay.  “I told you, she likes him.”