Page 22 of Claimed By the Cowboys

I sink into one of the creaky plastic chairs and rub the center of my chest, laughing despite the flush creeping up my neck. “Annie, I’m trying to work.”

“And I’m trying to live through you. Two identical, hot, possessive cowboys? Girl, I need the play-by-play.” She pulls up the chair across from me and leans forward like I’m about to confess state secrets. “Did they take turns? Did they tag-team you? Was it as mind-blowing as I’m imagining?”

My face burns hotter. I cover it with both hands for a second, but I can’t stop smiling, and it’s a dead giveaway. So much for keeping the filthy truth to myself. The memories rush in vivid and overwhelming: Jensen’s wicked mouth between my thighs, Bo’s quiet growl in my ear as he pinned my wrists, as they both told me how beautiful I am and how much they want more.

“You cannot breathe a word of this to anyone.”

Annie nods and presses her lips tightly, mimicking zipping them closed.

“It was…” I drop my hands and let out a shaky breath. “Intense. Overwhelming. The best sex of my entire life. They were so focused on me. Like nothing else existed.”

Annie squeals and does a little happy dance in her seat. “I knew it! Did they both… at the same time? Or did they switch?”

“Both,” I admit, voice dropping to a whisper. “They took turns and then… not really turns anymore. They worked together like they’d been doing it forever, and fed me takeout afterward. Then they held me between them all night and woke me up with soft kisses. They even made sure I got home safely. They were so sweet, Annie. Not just the sex. They looked at me and touched me like I was… precious.”

I shake my head, flushing at how ridiculous I sound. It was one night. It’s easy for men to make claims in the heat of the moment that they wouldn’t stand by in the cold light of day. Precious.

Annie’s expression shifts from glee to something softer and more serious. She reaches across the table and squeezes my hand. “Baby… you are precious, and that sounds dangerous in the best way. What did they say this morning?”

I bite my lip. “They want more. They’ve settled here in town. Got their own place. They’re looking for more than just a fling thing.”

She whistles low. “And how do you feel about that?”

I stare at the faded laminate table, tracing a scratch with my fingernail. “If I were free? If I didn’t have Naomi and Elijah, and Mama breathing down my neck… I’d consider it.”

If they really meant it.

Tears prick unexpectedly at the corners of my eyes. I blink them back quickly.

“But how can I even think about it?” I whisper. “I have responsibilities. The kids need stability. Mama would have a heart attack. The gossip alone would be brutal. Two men? I’d be the cautionary tale at Sunday service.”

Annie leans back, crossing her arms. “Brandy, listen to me. You’ve spent years pouring yourself out for everyone else. If you keep living like that, one day you’re going to wake up resentful and empty. Those babies love you, but they need you happy more than they need you exhausted and perfect.”

She softens her voice. “Maybe try it. Keep it quiet for now, until you know if these are real emotions or amazing sex and pretty words. Date them secretly and see how they treat you outside the bedroom. See if they can handle your real life. You deserve to explore something that makes you light up like this.”

I let out a watery laugh and wipe my eyes. “You’re a terrible influence.”

“I’m the best influence you’ve got,” she says, grinning. “Now get up. We’ve got meds to pass and old folks to charm. But I expect a full report if anything else happens.”

I stand slowly, wincing again at the pleasant ache between my legs. My body is exhausted, but my heart is strangely light. For the first time in years, a small, secret part of me is daring to wonder what it might be like to reach for more.

To let two cowboys into my life. To believe their pretty claims.

To have something for myself, even if it’s scary.

Even if it might break everything.

I smooth down my scrubs, square my shoulders, and follow Annie back into the hallway, carrying the delicious secret of last night like a warm ember in my chest.

Chapter 11

Jensen

“Easy, girl. Easy.” I click my tongue and keep a firm grip on the lead rope as the young chestnut mare dances sideways in the sun-drenched round pen, her hooves kicking up fine red dust. The wooden fence rails, weathered silver-gray from years of sun and rain, creak as she bumps against them. Nostrils flaring, she eyes the saddle pad warily.

Bo stands on the other side, leaning against the fence post with his arms crossed over his broad chest. His black shirt is already damp with sweat. Behind him, the green pastures stretch toward the foothills, dotted with grazing horses and the occasional flash of a white-tailed deer in the distance.

“She’s testing you,” Bo says. “Stop sweet-talking her and make her respect your space.”