Wicked Need (The Wicked Horse #3) Read online

  “You know I will,” he reassures. “But you know it’s tough around here. Everyone wants to live and work in this area.”

  And that’s the fucking truth. I’ve been all over the world and much of the United States, and there isn’t much that’s comparable to this area in the way of scenery and activities. Throw in the grandeur of Yellowstone just north of us, and the competition for work is stiff.

  Movement over Jake’s shoulder and beyond the open doorway of the breakroom catches my attention. I see Cat walking toward us. I’ll admit that my tongue was hanging out of my head this morning when she came out of the bedroom wearing a slim-fitted skirt that came just down to her knees but with a slit up the side that showed just a tiny peek of her lower thigh when she walked in her high heels. It wasn’t enough to be overtly sexy, but it was enough to get a man’s attention and for him to wonder what else was up there. Luckily, I knew the answer to that question.

  I smile at her, and she says hesitantly, “The guy up front said you were back here and that I could come on back.”

  Jake turns to the sound of her voice. Because he’s a genuinely friendly guy and an extrovert on steroids, he sticks his hand out and says, “You must be Cat?”

  She enters the breakroom and takes his hand, shooting me a quick smile before looking back to him. “And you must be Jake. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

  “And I haven’t heard nearly enough about you,” he says as he gives a quick shake and releases her hand. “But unfortunately I’ve got to get to work. So I demanded that your man set up a double date with me and my wife, Lorelei.”

  Cat’s eyes cut to mine. While she doesn’t need to say a word, I can read the look. It says, He doesn’t know we’re just fucking?

  I shoot her back a look that says, It’s more than just fucking and you know it.

  She smirks at me before turning back to Jake. “That sounds like fun. We should do it soon.”

  And just like that, it looks like I might be having my first real date in well… for fucking ever. There’s never been anyone other than Tarryn and shit… we were still kids when we started seeing each other. Dates back then consisted of making out in the school library or grabbing an ice cream in town. Once we got older and life got busy, dates were an uncommon occurrence.

  “Sounds awesome,” Jake says. He turns to look at me with a pointed look that says, Let’s do this sooner rather than later before you chase her off. Turning sideways, he slides past Cat while saying, “Nice to meet you.”

  “You too,” she murmurs and then turns back to me. “Sorry that took so long.”

  “No worries,” I assure her. “You hit all the places you wanted to?”

  A slightly uneasy look crosses her face, but she nods. “Yeah… now it’s a wait and see.”

  “What happened?” I ask bluntly. I can tell something happened in the last two hours that has her a bit rattled.

  “What do you mean?” she asks, those large, brown eyes blinking at me in faux innocence. I don’t buy it for a second.

  “Come on, Cat,” I say softly as I step into her. She looks up at me with her lower lip tucked in between her teeth, and Christ… that’s sexy, but I move past that thought. “You’ve already told me enough of your dirty laundry that you obviously trust me to some extent. Tell me what’s got that beautiful face filled with trouble.”

  That lip pops free as she gives a resigned sigh, her eyes lowering briefly as she takes in a breath and then looks back up at me. “I ran into Kevin on the street.”

  For a moment, I don’t comprehend who that is, but then it hits me hard and my protective instincts arise. Reaching out, I take her by the upper arm and pull her a little closer. “Did he hurt you? Are you okay?”

  She nods quickly. “Yeah… I mean, he was a creep as always, and he threatened me, but I think—”

  “He fucking threatened you?” I snarl, and she jerks in surprise over the deadly tone in my voice.

  “Not to fuck with him,” she says timidly. “To forget about the will.”

  “You two discussed the will?”

  “Among other things,” she says as she steps backward and pulls her arm slightly to get me to release it. I’m not sure if she’s seeking distance because I just scared her or she doesn’t appreciate the caveman mentality, but I let it go for now. Instead, I cross my arms over my chest.

  “Okay, how about tell me everything start to finish?” I command.

  “It was short… we literally bumped into each other on the street. Well, actually, I think he ran into me on purpose to get my attention, but no matter. Anyway, I told him wanted a copy of the signed will and he wasn’t happy about that. But then he propositioned me—”

  I curse under my breath and that stops Cat’s dialogue. She looks at me in question, and I wave an impatient hand at her. “Sorry… go on.”

  “He said I could move back into the Jackson house, but I told him I wouldn’t let his needle dick anywhere near me. Then he told me not to fuck with him, reiterated the Jackson house offer, which was essentially to be his side piece, or I could take five thousand in cash and go away.”

  “Did he touch you?” I ask through a locked jaw and gritted teeth.

  She knows by the tone of my voice that her answer could be perilous, so she stiffens her spine and simply says, “Yes. He grabbed me and pulled me into an embrace just before he threatened me. But we were on a public sidewalk and he wasn’t about to make a scene. When I pulled away, he let me go.”

  Blazing fury fills me as I think about that asshole taking advantage of Cat’s body because he believed his dad owned her, and now trying to do so again. The thought he could think to take what I was fast starting to think of as mine pissed me off. That he would even think about trying to touch her again makes me furious, especially when he essentially forced himself on her before. She may not have fought him, but he damn well knew she didn’t want her husband gifting her to his son whenever he felt the need arise.

  “Something good came of that meeting though,” she says quickly.

  My eyes focus in on her, leaving my other thoughts about murdering Kevin behind. “What’s that?”

  “I know damn well that will leaving me nothing wasn’t executed. Otherwise, he would have never threatened me or tried to pay me off. He was wigged out when I told him I wanted to see the signed copy.”

  “So what… you think the original will is still in Vegas?” I ask.

  “I do,” she confirms. “And I’m leaving tomorrow to find out if I’m right.”

  “What?” I ask in stunned disbelief.

  She’s leaving?

  Maybe not coming back?

  “I’m going to drive back to Vegas,” she says with a gleam in her eye. She gives a pat to her purse. “I was able to pawn all my jewelry, so I have some money to help me get by. I’m getting into that house and Samuel’s office, and I’m not leaving until I know the truth.”

  “You pawned your jewelry?” I ask in disbelief. “Why would you do that?”

  “Because I need the money, Rand,” she says with a little irritation in her voice. “I can’t just live off you, you know. And I can’t sit back and let that dickhead take advantage of me anymore.”

  I hate she has to make these tough choices, and I can’t stand the thought of her being so desperate she pawned her jewelry, but I can understand her reasoning to do just that. Cat’s done with taking a backseat to her life. She let Samuel dictate everything and now that he’s gone, her backbone is starting to shore up.

  “You should have at least tried to sell the jewelry to some reputable jewelry stores,” I grumble.

  “I did try,” she says. “No one was interested, so I had no choice.”

  “Well, at least if you’re owed some of Samuel’s estate, you can get it all back,” I concede.

  Cat gives an unladylike snort and shakes her head. “I don’t want that jewelry. It means nothing to me. I don’t want anything reminding me of that man and what he did to me.”

>   I smile in understanding and take a step back into her. Putting my arm around her waist, I pull her in and give her a kiss to her forehead. “Okay, I get it. You’re ready to charge into battle and nothing’s holding you back.”

  She responds by wrapping both arms around my waist, her purse squished in between us. Squeezing me, she says, “That’s right.”

  “You coming back?” I ask, bracing myself for the possibility that tonight might be the last time I ever see Cat again.

  “I’m… well, I’m not sure,” she says quietly with her cheek still pressed to my chest, and that’s a better answer than I actually expected. Vegas is Cat’s hometown. She can get a job there quickly, I’d imagine. Nothing here to pull her back this way.

  “So what time do we leave tomorrow?” I ask, throwing caution to the wind and then locking my arm tight as I expect her to pull away.

  She jerks slightly but merely tilts her head back to look at me. “You want to go with me to Vegas?”

  “Fuck if I’m going to let you ride off into battle alone,” I tell her with a charming grin. “I’m a white knight after all. Besides, I don’t trust Kevin or Richard. If for some reason they’re there, I don’t want you handling them on your own.”

  “But your work,” she points out.

  “Pish won’t care,” I tell her confidently. But he’ll so care. He’ll be pissed because he’ll have to get his ass up now and open the shop. He works late hours, preferring to do his inking at night, but I can’t worry about him right now. This is more important—although why, I’m not quite sure. But I’ve decided to follow my gut, and if I lose my job, so be it. I don’t need the money as my earlier sponsorship deals have left me financially secure. “Now how about we go grab some lunch and we can plan what we need to do?”

  “No… I can’t let you do that. I can’t disrupt your life like that. This may be nothing more than a fool’s errand.”

  Fool’s errand.

  Funny.

  Am I a fool for getting involved like this? Am I just entranced by what an amazing fuck she is or is there something more with this woman?

  “I’m going and that’s the end of it,” I tell her firmly, but then I try to emphasize that this truly isn’t a big deal. “And you’re not disrupting me. I wouldn’t have offered if it did, okay?”

  “Rand… it’s too much—”

  “Cat… I’m going so just accept it. It’ll be a fun road trip. We can buy sugary soda and sour gummy worms to eat on the way, sing bad 80’s songs at the top of our lungs. It’ll be awesome.”

  I then give her my best and most charming smile.

  The indecision and doubt on her face melts away, and she gives me a girlish laugh with a pat to my chest before releasing me. “Okay, fine. You can go.”

  I take her hand, relieved that today will not be our last day together. As I lead her out of the breakroom and through the shop, we wind our way through racks of ski apparel, which is the most direct route to the door. Jake’s behind the counter and throws us a wave.

  I call out, “Later, man.”

  “This weekend,” he reminds me with a pointed look.

  I just nod. I’ll have to call him later and explain this weekend isn’t going to work as, apparently, I’m going to Vegas with this woman and we may or may not be breaking into a house that may or may not belong to her. Also that I may or may not be developing some feelings for a woman who may or may not be in my life for much longer.

  Chapter 12

  Cat

  Although it was a nipple puckering forty-two degrees when we left Jackson at six this morning, I don’t regret my decision to wear a loose, flowered skirt for the drive. This time of year in Jackson is amazing. The days are sunny and warm, but the nights get downright cold. The valley floor is thick with wildflowers just starting to fade but the alpine ones are peaking, which paint the mountains with color.

  But we’re headed south now and when I checked last night, Las Vegas was holding steady with temperatures in the eighties, so I know my choice of apparel is sufficient. Besides, when I kicked off my taupe-colored ballet flats and put my bare feet up on the dashboard of Rand’s Suburban, I know he appreciated the way the skirt slid along my thighs and revealed my skin. I know this because his head immediately snapped my way for a moment. As he studied me, or rather my legs, his lips tipped upward. He didn’t say anything, but he did place a warm palm on my knee and slide his hand along the same path my skirt took. He did this pushing inward slightly so the stroke of his skin against mine was along the inside of my thigh.

  Sliding his hand slowly along, he pushed my skirt even further up legs until his hand was resting just inches from my panty line.

  My heart felt like it was about to explode. I knew if he moved his hand just slightly, he’d feel the dampness of my underwear. Yes, I was horny for this man. He fucked me well last night, but it was only once, and then he proclaimed we needed to get to sleep because we had to get up early for the long drive ahead of us. With a man like Rand, I’m finding once just isn’t enough.

  But he did nothing more than squeeze my inner thigh with his large, warm hand and then pulled it away so it could rest casually again on the steering wheel. It took a good twenty minutes for my heart rate to go back to normal and for me to think coherently.

  The rest of the trip is proving to be uneventful, however. We’ve been driving for almost eight hours with short stops to refuel and grab something to eat. I’ve offered to drive, but Rand’s refused. Not sure if it’s a macho, alpha thing, a gentlemanly thing, or maybe he just doesn’t trust me with his vehicle, but I’m not averse to riding shotgun as long as he’s not too tired.

  It was my decision to drive versus fly, which is what Rand wanted to do. He felt the ten and a half hours it would take us to get there was a waste of time, and he’s right about that. But my money’s tight and it was cheaper to drive. I netted around $3300 from pawning my jewelry, which sucks since it was probably worth ten times that amount. But beggars can’t be choosers, and I have to ration my money carefully. This meant I could budget money for gas to Las Vegas, but not plane tickets. Rand offered to buy the air fare, but I shut that conversation down quickly. I also reminded him that I didn’t need him to go with me and that I was driving, and it was the end of the discussion. Except he did somehow convince me to take his Suburban rather than my small Mercedes, which would be more comfortable for Rand, and I felt that was a good compromise.

  I smile over that word.

  Compromise.

  I’ve never been able to compromise with anyone before. It was flat out impossible with my mother, and with Samuel… well, there was no question I’d ever cross him.

  But Rand has proven that he’ll listen to me and give my wishes consideration. While I could tell he wasn’t happy at all for me to be spending any of my meager money on this trip—and yes, he was incensed I only got $3300 for my jewelry—he also recognized it was important for me to be in control of how this was done.

  I keep a running chatter of dialogue going so if nothing else we are semi-entertained. While I’ve intermittently put my feet up on the dashboard and other times curled them up under me in the big expanse of the Suburban’s front passenger seat, Rand has remained a gentleman the entire time. I’ve kept the conversation light because we have some serious shit waiting for us in Vegas, which would be taking our attention soon enough.

  “What about your family?” I ask him because we’ve been talking about the friends he’s made over the years doing competitive skiing and how they became like a family because he was traveling so much.

  Rand smiles while maintaining his concentration on the road. We’re on I-15 south with nothing but flat desert valley with shadowy mountains in the distances to look at. Sometimes, the monotony of the landscape can almost be hypnotizing, and not in a good way.

  “My parents are still back in Vermont where I was raised in a little unincorporated village called Quechee. My dad is a full-time novelist—true crime stuff— and
my mom teaches middle school.”

  “No siblings?” I ask.

  “Nope. Only child, and as such, I may have been doted on,” he says with a grin as he watches the interstate before him.

  My heart squeezes in what I think might be a very brief moment of actual jealousy. In those few words… in that smile he has on his face right now, you can see the genuine love for his parents.

  “Sounds nice,” I murmur as I glance out the passenger window at the desert landscape whizzing by.

  “It was,” he says pointedly and with no shame for having an amazing family. I turn to look at him to find him staring at me, just briefly before turning his head back to the road. “My parents are great. They sacrificed a lot by sending me to Carrabassett Valley. Not only in the money it cost, but also because it essentially took their only son out of their lives. It was hard on them to let me pursue my dreams. We only got to see each other occasionally, mostly on holidays, even though my parents only lived about four hours away. But between school and training, there was never any free time.”

  “They sound amazing.” Go away, jealousy. Rand is the type of man who deserves great parents.

  “The most amazing,” he agrees. “When I started competing on a serious level, my dad started to travel with me because his job can really be done from anywhere. This, of course, took him away from my mom. So it wasn’t a conventional family relationship, but it worked for us.”

  “Why live so far away from them?” I ask with curiosity.

  Rand shrugs. “I don’t know. I love Vermont. Its beauty rivals Wyoming. Ton of skiing, my family’s there. Maybe one day, I’ll gravitate back that way, but for now, I have the freedom to travel and live where I want to. I guess until I figure out what I really want to do, I’m fine in Jackson.”

  I wonder what it would be like to have that type of freedom. And I’m not just talking about financial freedom, as that’s clearly part of Rand’s ability to do what he wants. But to actually just take your time and figure out what you want in life. To have no pressures or worries hanging over your head.