Buckhorn Beginnings (19 page)

Sawyer laughed. “Hell, yes. Go ahead and call her. But you can answer her hundred and one questions, because I don't want to be interrupted.” He smiled down at Honey and squeezed her tight. “I plan to be busy for a long, long while.”

I
T WAS
one of those sweltering hot weekend mornings when a man had nothing better to do than sit outside in his jeans, feel himself sweat and wait for a breeze that wouldn't come. The sky was the prettiest blue he'd ever seen, not a single cloud in sight. He loved days like this, and looked forward to viewing them from his own house once he finished it. If all went well, it would be ready for him to move in by the end of summer.

Morgan Hudson tilted his chair back and closed his eyes. Everyone was gone for the day, and the house seemed strangely quiet, not peaceful so much as empty. He hoped he didn't feel that way when he got moved in. Living with three brothers and a teenage nephew got a man used to chaos, especially with
his
brothers.

Sawyer, the oldest, was the only doctor for miles around, and he had patients coming and going through the back office attached to the house all day long—sometimes even through the night. It was one reason the brothers had all hung around together for so long. Sawyer was an excellent father, but when Casey was little, they'd all pitched in to cover dad duty so the rigors of med school, and later
being the town doc, didn't overwhelm him. It had been a pleasure.

Jordan, his younger brother, was a vet, and that meant the house and yard were always filled with stray animals. Morgan didn't mind. More often than not he got attached to the odd assortment of mangy, abandoned or just plain homely critters. 'Course, he didn't tell Jordan that.

Gabe, the youngest brother, was a rascal, with no intention of settling down anytime soon. And why should he when half the female populace of Buckhorn County, Kentucky would be bereft if he ever did? The women had spoiled Gabe something awful, and he indulged them all. Gabe just plain loved women, young and old, sweet or sassy. And they loved him back.

Casey, Sawyer's son, was constant chatter. He was at that awkward age of sixteen, half man, half kid, when females fascinated him, but then, so did driving and stretching his independence. Casey, as well as the brothers, was thrilled when Sawyer decided to marry again, adding a female into the masculine mix. The adjustment to Honey Malone had gone surprisingly smooth.

Morgan smiled. Damn, but he liked Honey. Mostly because the woman had snared his brother with a single look. Sawyer had fought it, Morgan'd give him that, but it hadn't done him a damn bit of good. He'd gone head over arse in love with Honey almost from the first day. And once Casey had decided he loved her, well, that had put a bow on the package. Sawyer would do anything for that boy, so
it was a good thing Casey had taken to Honey the way he had.

Morgan wanted to have a son just like Casey some day—if he ever found a woman he wanted to marry. At thirty-four, he figured he'd waited plenty long enough. He almost had the house done, and he sure as hell was settled enough now, despite what his brothers thought. He had a respectable job and plenty of money put away. It was time for him to get on with his life, his hell-raising days long over.

A bird landed on the porch, right next to where Morgan's bare foot was braced on the railing. He cocked an eye open, whistled softly to the bird, then watched it take flight again. Obviously the bird hadn't known he was human—or else it'd thought he was dead. With a grin, Morgan closed his eyes again. He was like that, so still sometimes it set people on edge. To Morgan, it was all about control, taking charge of his life and seeing that things fell into place. He had the future mapped out, and he had not a single doubt that things would be just as he wanted them. He controlled himself, he controlled his future.

Whenever possible, he controlled those around him.

 

T
HE MAN
was sound asleep when Misty pulled up in front of the huge, impressive log house. It seemed to go on and on forever, sprawling over incredibly beautiful land. On the way in she'd seen a lake surrounded by colorful wildflowers, an enormous barn and several smaller outbuildings. In the distance, sit
ting atop a slight rise, was another house, but apart from that, the home was isolated.

Honey had told her a little about the property, but mostly she'd talked of her marriage. Sawyer, her husband-to-be, had rushed things through, and Honey was putting a wedding together in just under three weeks. It had taken Misty a few days to gather her things and join her sister so she could offer some last-minute help. The timing couldn't have been better, and Misty had given a silent prayer of gratitude that she actually had a place to stay for a short time. Otherwise, she'd have been homeless.

Honey had warned her that the testosterone level would be enough to strangle a frail woman, but still, Misty hadn't been prepared for the sight of the hard, dark man sitting on the porch. He wore tight faded jeans, the waistband undone—and nothing else. She gulped, seeing a flat, six-pack, slightly hairy abdomen.

Besides being massively built and layered in solid muscle, he was breathtakingly gorgeous. Not that it mattered to Misty, who was twice burned. She'd written men off, and they'd stay written off. But that didn't mean she couldn't look. And appreciate what she saw.

She inched closer, wondering exactly how to wake him or even if she should. She'd arrived a day early, so Honey might not be expecting her. But surely there was someone else in the house, and maybe if she knocked quietly…

She was right beside him, practically tiptoeing in
her sandals, trying to decide what to do, when suddenly he opened his eyes.

Oh, Lord.

She felt snared, like a helpless doe in the headlights of a semi. She stared, swallowed and stared some more. The man seemed as surprised as she was, and then he suddenly moved, jerking upright. He lost his balance, and his chair went crashing backward with jarring impact.

The string of curses that emerged should have singed her ears, but instead it amused her. She smiled widely and leaned down to where he lay sprawled on the polished boards of the porch. “You all right?”

Still flat on his back, he ran one hand through his dark, wavy hair, eyes closed, and Misty had the distinct feeling he was counting to ten. When he turned his head to face her, she prepared herself for the impact of his gaze again.

It didn't help. The man had the most sinfully beautiful blue eyes she'd ever seen.

“Is there some reason why you're sneaking up on my porch?”

The chuckle came without warning. She was nervous, damn it, and she couldn't be. She didn't want Honey to know of her troubles, not when Honey had just found so much well-deserved happiness. Misty had already decided to act as if nothing had happened, to resolve her difficulties—
what an understatement
—on her own. Having the invitation to stay with Honey for a little while was a reprieve from heaven, and hopefully would give her a chance to get her bearings and make some very necessary plans.

“Now, I didn't sneak,” she lied easily. “You were just snoring so loud you didn't hear me.”

His blue gaze darkened to purest midnight. “I don't snore.”

“No?”

“Any number of women can tell you so.”

Uh-oh.
She was on dangerous ground. This obviously wasn't the kind of man you could easily flirt with. He took things too seriously. And she sensed he wasn't exactly going to behave like a gentleman. Misty brushed her bangs out of her eyes and gave him a cocky grin. “I'll take your word for it. Must have been distant thunder I heard.” She looked pointedly at the clear blue sky, and he scowled, quickly prompting her to add, “Did you break anything?”

Without her mind's permission, her gaze drifted over his big, hard, mostly bare body, and her pulse accelerated.

The man pushed himself into a sitting position off to the side of the chair. He let his arms dangle over his bent knees and narrowed his eyes in what she took to be a challenge. A very small, very sensual smile tilted his mouth. “You want to check me over to see?”

The idea of her hands coming into contact with all that exposed male skin made her fingertips itch. Distance became a priority, especially with the husky way he'd asked it. Misty came swiftly to her feet, but that just redirected his gaze to her legs, so close he could kiss her knee by merely leaning forward.

He looked as if he were considering it.

She quickly stepped back. Perspiration dampened
her skin and caused her T-shirt to stick to her breasts. It had to be over ninety degrees, and the humidity was so thick you could choke on a deep breath.

Trying to lighten the suddenly charged mood, she asked, “How in the world can you sleep in this heat?”

He pushed himself to his feet and righted the chair. He was a good head taller than her, with sleek, tanned shoulders twice as wide as hers. She felt equal parts fascination and intimidation. She didn't like it. She would never let another man affect her in either way. When he looked down at her, his expression somewhat brooding, she gave her patented careless grin and winked. “Out all night carousing and now you're too exhausted to stay awake?”

He stepped forward, and she quickly stepped back—then had to keep stepping back until her body came into contact with the wood railing. He towered over her, not smiling, taking her in from head to toe. If Misty hadn't known for a fact that she had the right house, and if Honey hadn't assured her that all the men were beyond honorable, she'd have been just a tad more worried than she was. “Uh, is anyone else here?”

“No.”

“No?”
Now
she was getting worried. “What about your brothers? And wasn't your mother supposed to be visiting, too?”

He frowned, but didn't back up a single pace. He was so close she could smell the spicy scent of his heated skin.

She held her breath.

“My mother had a slight emergency and she won't
be able to make it after all. My brothers and my nephew are all in town together, enjoying a Saturday off.”

They were alone! She could barely form a coherent sentence with him deliberately crowding her so. She had a suspicion that was why he did it. She swallowed and asked, “What about Honey?”

His gaze sharpened and his dark brows pulled down in a ferocious frown. “She's with them.” He looked her over again, very slowly this time. To her, it seemed as if he was savoring the experience. Then he asked, “Just who the hell are you, lady?”

His expression was bland, but there was something in his tone, a mixture of heat and expectation. Misty bit her lip, then stuck out her hand, warding him off and offering a belated introduction. “Misty Malone.” Her voice broke, and she had to clear her throat. “I'm Honey's sister.”

His expression froze, then abruptly hardened as he stepped away without taking her hand. “Ah, hell.” He glared an accusation, then added, “That wasn't at all what I wanted to hear.”

J
UST LOOKING
at her made him sweat.

And in the damned tux for his brother's reception, sweating was more than a little uncomfortable. Even the air-conditioning didn't help. He should look away, but he couldn't seem to drag his gaze from her. The sensuous way she moved, her deep black hair swaying to the music, looking almost liquid it was so silky, her husky laugh, all worked to make him crazy and put a stranglehold on his attention. Morgan loosened the tie around his throat and undid the top two buttons of his white shirt. But that didn't help the restriction of his pants, and he just knew if he started loosening them up, his new sister-in-law would have a fit. And he'd sooner kick his own ass than upset Honey.

“If you stare any harder, you're liable to set her on fire.”

Morgan jerked, then turned to glare at Sawyer. “Aren't you supposed to be with your bride?”

“Jordan's dancing with her.”

Great. Just great. After meeting Misty that first day on the front porch, Morgan had done his best to avoid her. Hell, he'd almost seduced his new sister-
in-law's sister. And worse, she'd egged him on. What kind of woman did a thing like that?

He felt infuriated every time he thought about it. All his lauded control seemed to be paper-thin these days, especially with the way Jordan and Gabe adored the woman. They doted on Misty, every bit as fascinated as Morgan had been by her sensual looks and careless smile, only they seemed genuinely interested in her, and that really put a crimp in his mood.

Morgan didn't particularly like her. She was so brazen, so sassy and unrestrained, it was almost impossible not to be drawn to her on a sexual level. But where her sister was discreet and gentle, Misty was bold and outgoing. It was no wonder he hadn't figured out who she was on the spot; he'd expected the sister to be more like Honey, not the exact opposite.

With her come-on lines and lack of inhibitions, Misty could put any male on edge, and that wasn't at all the type of woman he was determined to be interested in these days. No, he wanted a woman like Honey, one he could settle down with, one that was as interested in becoming domestic as he was. Not that he wouldn't indulge in a little dalliance here and there before he found the wife, just not with Honey's sister. No way. That would be crossing the familial line.

Trying to sound disinterested rather than disgruntled, Morgan said, “I'm surprised Jordan could pull himself away from Misty. He and Gabe have been crowding her all night.” Then he shook his head. “Hell, they've both been dogging her heels like lovesick puppies all week.”

“And that bothers you, does it?”

Morgan snorted. “Hell, no. Except that she's a far cry from Honey and I don't want to see them get stuck in an awkward situation.”

That made Sawyer laugh out loud. “Jordan and Gabe? I hate to break it to you, Morgan, but they're grown men and they've been handling their fair share of female companionship for some time now. Hell, Gabe started earlier than you did.”

“He lied.”

Sawyer laughed again. “Nope, I caught him at it, out in the barn that first time, so I know exactly how old he was.”

Diverted for the moment, Morgan turned to Sawyer with a grin. “You're kidding?”

“Don't I wish. I think that's what started him on the path of debauchery.”

Morgan chuckled at that. The youngest brother was a regular Lothario, to the delight of the female population of Buckhorn. “Details?”

Shrugging, Sawyer said, “The girl was four years older than him, and since then, it's like he's irresistible to women.”

“Honey resisted him.”

Sawyer's grin was very smug. “Yeah. I was glad to see it. Good for his ego.”

“'Course, he wasn't really giving it his all, seeing as you'd already staked a claim.” Before Sawyer could object to that, Morgan turned to Misty. “Does it amaze you how two sisters can be so damned different? I mean, Honey is just so kindhearted and innocent.”

Sawyer had just taken a sip of his champagne, and he choked, but when Morgan gave him a suspicious look, he just raised his brows, as if encouraging Morgan to continue.

“Misty is…”

“What?” Sawyer seemed intent on digging in. “Sexy?”

“Hell, yeah, she's sexy. But then so is Honey.”

Sawyer blinked at that, then frowned ferociously. “I'm not at all sure I like—”

“Oh, give it a rest, Sawyer. I'm not blind. And I just appreciate the fact she's so sexy—for you.”

After downing the rest of his champagne in one gulp, Sawyer demanded, “Your point?”

Sawyer was being damn entertaining again, but Morgan couldn't take advantage of it because he couldn't pull his gaze away from Misty. Gabe had just swept her up into a new dance. She complained for just a moment about her feet, and Gabe, the rascal, merely went down on one knee and pulled her shoes off, tossing them aside. Misty seemed charmed, and they began a rather heated, intimate dance. The floor cleared to give them room, and Misty behaved totally uninhibited. Gabe was no better, showing off, making the women cheer, but that was his damned brother and he wasn't interested in looking at Gabe.

Misty was something altogether different.

Morgan had to grind his teeth together. “Will you just look at her?”

“I'd rather look at you looking at her. More amusing that way.”

“It's like, Honey is so sweet and gentle, and
Misty's all spice and fire. What is it with her, anyway? Does she think she has to seduce every guy around her?”

“She's not seducing, she's dancing.”

Morgan snorted. “The way she dances, it's the same damn thing.”

Sawyer snickered. “For you, at least.”

Just then, Jordan interrupted Gabe and stole Misty away. She laughed, as willing to partner him as Gabe, and Morgan nearly ground his teeth into powder. “It's not right, I'm telling you. She's playing with them both.”

Deliberately adding oil to the fire, Sawyer said, “It seems to be a game they're enjoying.” Then he clapped Morgan on the shoulder. “Relax, will you? She's just dancing, nothing more. Oops. Here comes Honey, so I better get this out quick. She's concerned because you're avoiding Misty. I was supposed to tell you to go dance with her.”

“Ha.”
Morgan was positively appalled by that idea, but not for the reasons his brother would likely assume. “I'm not getting near her.” He was afraid if he did, he'd explode. He couldn't recall ever wanting a woman quite the way he wanted this one.

She was staying with them at the house, so he saw her at breakfast, looking all sleepy but still full of smiles for his brothers. He saw her at bedtime, wishing everyone—but him—a good night's sleep. He even saw her in the afternoon, though he did his best to avoid it. She would be painting her toenails right out on the back patio, or puttering around the kitchen, giving the illusion of being domestic when
he'd be willing to bet she didn't have a domestic bone in her entire lush little body.

It didn't matter what she did, he liked it—a little too much. And she knew it, which was why she avoided him as much as he did her. They were far too sexually aware of each other for comfort.

But it was all physical, and a fast, easy, physical relationship with his sister-in-law's sister would never do. Sawyer, damn him, had made the woman a relative with his marriage, and that put her off-limits for every single thing Morgan would like to do with her. And the things he'd like to do…

He almost groaned out loud. The vivid images of him and Misty together, naked, overheated, carnal, would amuse his brothers and shock the hell out of Honey. She was overprotective of Misty—why, he couldn't fathom. He had a feeling his sexual thoughts wouldn't shock Misty at all. He had the taunting suspicion she'd be with him every step of the way.

“Damn.” Morgan felt the start of an erection and had to fight to control himself. Not easy to do when Misty was laughing and looking flushed from all that dancing. Jordan whirled her in a wide circle, and Morgan wanted to flatten him.

“Damn is right. You're in for it now.”

Morgan turned to see what Sawyer was blathering on about and was met with Honey instead. She looked incredibly beautiful in her white wedding gown, her long blond hair loose and her face glowing. Morgan smiled at her. “Have I kissed the bride yet?”

“About a dozen times, I think.” She grinned at him, and twin dimples decorated her cheeks.

“Morgan…”
Sawyer's beleaguered tone didn't bother Morgan one whit. Annoying each other was the brothers' favorite pastime. And Sawyer, love-struck from day one though he fought it pretty damn hard, had made himself a prime target.

Honey laughed and patted her husband's chest. “Oh, Sawyer, relax. Your brother is just a big pushover.”

Sawyer choked again.

Morgan, amused by her insistent misconceptions of him, grinned. Not another soul in Buckhorn, male or female, thought of him as a pushover—pretty much the opposite, in fact.

His grin fell flat with her next words.

“I want you to dance with Misty.”

“Ah…”

“Morgan, it almost seems like you've been avoiding her. She told me just this morning at breakfast that you didn't like her.”

They'd talked about him? Morgan wanted to ask exactly what had been said, but he didn't want to look too interested. “I don't dislike her.”

“Of course you don't! But she thinks you do because you've spent so much time at work since she's been here, and you've barely said two words to her.”

Morgan tugged on his ear, beginning to feel uncomfortable. He wanted to sock Sawyer, who stood behind his bride, smirking. “It's been really busy this week and being that I'm sheriff I can't just…”

“But you're not busy now. And look, she just fin
ished a dance. It's the perfect time for the two of you to talk some more and get better acquainted.”

Sawyer, ready to get back a little of his own, said, “Yeah, the timing is
perfect.
And with your, er, charm, you should be able to put her right at ease.” Then he grinned, glancing at his wife. “You'd do that for Honey, wouldn't you, Morgan?”

Honey, playing along, gave him her most endearing smile.

He tried, but not a single rebuttal came to mind. “Well, hell.” Morgan stomped away, resigned to his fate and unfortunately, in some ways, pleased to be forced into it. He saw Misty look up from across the room, as if she'd somehow sensed his approach. She did that a lot, seeming to know the second he entered a room. And then she'd get quiet and withdrawn—but only with him.

Her dark blue eyes, so bright and clear they still had the effect of making his heart skip a beat, widened. He saw her soft lips part, saw her cheeks darken with color. She turned, looking, he knew, for an avenue of escape. But she'd already been surrounded by every eligible bachelor in Buckhorn, and they were in no hurry to let her leave.

Morgan stopped right behind her. She didn't turn to face him, but she knew he was there; her shoulders stiffened the tiniest bit and her normally husky voice became a little bit shrill as she asked the men who would dance with her next.

Morgan looked at every man there, and he fashioned a grin. A very hard, unmistakable expression.

Several of the men, eyeing him closely, began to back up, quickly making their excuses.

Morgan took advantage of their retreat. “I believe that'd be me, Malone.”

She hated it when he called her by her last name. He'd found that out the first day they met. He'd been calling her by Malone ever since, because it helped to maintain the small distance necessary for his sanity.

“I don't think so,
Hudson.
” She reached for Gabe's hand. He was one of the few men who wasn't intimidated by Morgan's darkest stare. In fact, Gabe looked highly entertained. He was a gentleman and would have assisted her, if Morgan hadn't beat him to it, reaching around her and snatching her slim fingers in his own before she could get a solid hold on Gabe. The reach brought his chest up flush against her slender back. He could smell her, warm woman and sweet sexiness. Her scent was like an irresistible tonic to him, and like any basic male animal, he reacted strongly to it. Her hair, so silky and luxurious, brushed his chin, and it was like having fire lick down his spine. He caught his breath.

They both froze.

Gabe chuckled. “You two going to stand there doing the statue imitation all night, or do you intend to dance? I have to tell you, Honey is frowning something fierce over the show you're giving the guests, and I think she's about to start this way.”

Morgan drew in a deep breath, searching for control. “Get lost, Gabe.”

“No way. I don't get to see you this rattled too often.”

“I'm not rattled.” He stepped back a safe distance but retained his hold on Misty. Trying to sound reasonable, rather than rattled, he said, “Your sister wants us to dance.”

Misty's pink tongue darted out to lick nervously at her lips, and Morgan wanted to groan. He glanced at Gabe and saw that his brother was every bit as alert and fascinated as he was.
Damn.
He started backing out to the middle of the dance floor, tugging Misty along with him. Everyone could see she was a reluctant participant, and after the way she'd accepted every other partner, Morgan was peeved. “Come on, Malone. I won't bite you.”

“Can I have that in writing?” Gently, she tried to disengage her hand. Morgan stared at her, refusing to let go and refusing to respond to her sarcasm.

She sighed. “Look, Morgan, this isn't a good idea.”

Perversely, he asked, “Why not?”

“You don't like me! That was easy enough to figure out from the moment we met.”

She was so…lovely, he couldn't help but study her face, the narrow nose, the high cheekbones, her small rounded chin. If he looked any lower, he'd never survive the dance, so he brought his gaze to hers. “I liked you well enough…at first.”