Bad Bride Good Cowboys Read online

  Every time his fingers had brushed against the silky smooth skin of her back, memories had entered his mind, and for a fleeting moment, he had longed to touch more of her soft flesh. Just the thought, even now, stirred his cock. He shook off the attraction. Some things never changed, and he doubted if his desire for Felicia would ever die. Interesting, considering he had been committed to Brady for years.

  Despite her being Collin’s younger sister, she was more. She had been part of his life since he was sixteen and her eleven, then one day she grew up and had captured more than his attention.

  She could have had more. Much more.

  Collin had been his longest friend, next to Brady, ever since the Morgans had moved to Landon to be close to Clarissa Morgan’s parents after their father had been killed in a work related accident. The same ranch, which had been willed to Felicia and Collin, was the very one bought by Brady and Mickey. Collin still stayed there when he was in town and not digging up history somewhere. As for Felicia…

  “Is everything okay?” Her voice interrupted his thoughts, and he flashed the brunette beauty with big brown eyes and long dark lashes a reassuring grin. She had dated Paul for a total of nine months and had hastily gotten engaged after three. What the hell was she thinking?

  “Fine,” he lied, not wanting to cause a scene and struggled with whether he should tell her privately, or at all, what a scumbag she was going to marry. He needed to talk to Brady, except that would most likely lead to a fist planted in Paul’s face where Mickey had restrained. “Everything is fine, doll.”

  He could tell by the slight crinkle of her brow she didn’t entirely believe him. As he sat in the chair, he darted a glance at Brady who also didn’t look convinced. His expression held a silent question.

  Mickey shook his head once, sending an inaudible message that they could discuss things later to the man he shared his life and the ranch with. Now definitely wasn’t the time. He still had to get through lunch and not deck the son of a bitch who proclaimed to be the doting fiancé.

  As if on cue, the cheating slime surfaced with a weasel smile firmly intact on a face begging to be punched. He turned to Felicia and winked. “Miss me?”

  Her brows lifted, and a faint smile dusted her full lips but failed to reach her eyes. She remained quiet and nodded once. Slim fingers reached to her neck and toyed with the expensive pearls. The same necklace he and Brady had given her when she finished university three years ago.

  “Felicia, darling, you haven’t touched your salad.”

  She snapped her attention to Paul’s mother and lowered her long, slender fingers back to her lap. “I actually—”

  “Please don’t tell me you’re worried about your weight,” Paul interjected. “Eat. The salad, lettuce and tomatoes aren’t fattening.”

  Felicia turned to the jerk. “I’m not worried about my weight, unlike you.” An undertone he couldn’t pinpoint coated her words.

  He better not think she’s fat.

  In truth, Felicia was curvy, but certainly not fat. In a fitted dress, she had a body that could stop traffic, complete with a set of long gorgeous legs. He clenched his fist underneath the table. If he and Brady hadn’t promised Collin they would ensure his sister’s happiness, he might have already made contact with the dick lawyer’s mouth. A knot formed in his stomach. From what he had seen, Paul was going to make Felicia the opposite of happy. He wished he knew if Collin would want him to intervene or not.

  “The salad has dressing on it,” Brady stated matter of fact.

  Just like his partner, Mickey already knew why Felicia hadn’t touched the salad. A genuine smile crossed her mouth and this time her eyes sparkled as she turned her attention on Brady. “You remembered.”

  “Since when do you not like salad dressing?” Paul asked with a peeved expression.

  Mickey uncurled his fist and swallowed a snort. Shouldn’t a fiancé know this stuff? “Actually, she’s never liked dressing of any kind. She doesn’t like vinegar.”

  Her warm gaze met his and she looked genuinely happy for the first time since he and Brady had arrived at the bridal shop. Some of the tension eased with the warmth in her smile.

  “Just eat the salad, and be polite,” her mother encouraged. “Monica had this menu picked out special.”

  “Speaking of picking out, I heard you didn’t choose a dress today,” Paul’s mother prodded.

  All traces of happiness again vanished from Felicia’s face and the knot in Mickey’s stomach tightened. Something was wrong. Only he wasn’t sure if it was the fact Felicia was marrying an ass, if the bride-to-be was having doubts, or if the wrongness had to do with feelings he hadn’t expected to rise to the surface after all this time.

  “I didn’t see anything I truly liked.” Her tone held no emotion and was flat, to the point, he now wondered if more than just dress selection was a problem.

  Monica Hutchinson waved her hand dismissively. “I need to take you to Rodeo Drive. After all, you’re marrying my son. Nothing but the best.”

  Then we should consider a new groom.

  He darted a look over to Brady, who studied Paul then met his gaze. A storm growing in his lover’s blue eyes; he had already picked up issues. Brady’s attention refocused on the collar of Brad’s shirt, then he flexed his jaw and snaked his tongue across his teeth. Oh yeah, Brady was pissed. Curiosity got the better of Mickey and he glanced to the fiancé from hell. Lipstick.

  Idiot. Maybe he wouldn’t need to say anything to Felicia after all.

  A grin tugged across his lips and he hoped the bride-to-be spotted the mark. She was a smart girl. Smart and didn’t wear that shade. Just like he and Brady knew she didn’t eat salad dressing, they both knew she couldn’t stand the color pink.

  Chapter Two

  Present day…

  “What the hell?” Brady Jackson stared out the window of the office down the dirt and gravel drive in front of the ranch home. As soon as the silver Lexus convertible screeched to a halt with a spray of rocks, he knew the driver was hell-bent over something.

  He leaned back in the heavy leather and wood swivel chair as the brunette beauty stepped out of the car. A spring breeze blew the dark wavy hair falling loosely around her face. Felicia slammed the door with a bit more force than required. Oh yeah, she was pissed about something all right, and he could hardly wait to hear what had caused the latest mood.

  He had to admit he was surprised she was here, and, as she was hauling a suitcase and carry-on bag out of the trunk, she planned to be here awhile.

  Over the last couple years, especially the last few months since she had started dating the dick attorney, she rarely surfaced at the ranch. Even though he and Mickey had bought the large five bedroom home years ago, they had kept Collin and Felicia’s rooms untouched.

  Felicia banged the trunk lid down with as much vengeance as the door. She headed up the steps in worn beige cowboy boots teamed with cut offs, exposing a lot of tanned and toned leg. A teal, fitted tank top clung to her round breasts and narrowed at the waist before curving over her hips, while a white sheer top, about two sizes too big, covered the curves it incased. A trendy pair of sunglasses completed the outfit, and even though he couldn’t see her eyes, she looked hotter than hell.

  She’s going to be the death of me.

  Felicia hauled the heavy luggage up the front steps. Her determined stomps confirmed her sour state. He heaved a sigh and waited. Sure, he could have met her at the door; however, thanks to her outfit and his physical reaction, just thinking about the beauty had him harder than hell. He gave her a whole thirty seconds before she tracked him down. Unless she headed to the stables and barns, in which case, she would find Mickey.

  The front door opened as her cell phone started ringing. Most likely the extremely dislikable Paul. His stomach knotted and he ignored the twinge of jealousy forming.

  “Omigod! Jen, thank God.” Felicia’s voice carried down the hall followed by the shutting of the door. “What the hel
l do you mean he’s calling around?”

  Brady glanced out the office door and knew she hadn’t stepped much past the front threshold, considering she hadn’t walked by the room in which he sat.

  “Paul needs to get a clue. I needed to get away. I had to head home for a breather.” Her boot heels scuffed against the hardwood floor, and he didn’t have to see her to know she was shifting her weight from one foot to the other. “Are you kidding? Of course I’m not staying with mom. I came to the ranch. Where else would I go?”

  She’s mad at Paul. Good. Maybe she’ll call the wedding off. Could we be that lucky?

  He had no use for Felicia’s fiancé and even less use when Mickey had told him what he had witnessed at lunch. Their best friend’s sister deserved so much better. He reached for his coffee mug and willed himself not to think of the past.

  “Don’t even start with me.” Her tone held a mischievous spark indicating her bad mood was passing, at least for a moment or two. “Yes, they’re incredibly hot and if they weren’t so into each other I would most certainly save a horse and ride one of them, or both, and more than once.”

  Thanks to her shocking revelation and his ill-timed sip, he damn near choked on the cold coffee. Still, despite his best efforts, half went down his wind pipe, and he started to cough—and possibly bring up a lung in the process.

  “Bloody fucking hell…”

  Her words trailed off, and he knew he was busted.

  “Jen, I’ll call you back.”

  Boot heels scuffed across the hardwood, and about the time Felicia stood in the doorway, the coughing and hacking had stopped, and Brady inhaled his first full breath since overhearing her conversation. The expression on her face held concern and he wished he could see her eyes behind her designer shades.

  “Are you okay?” she asked with a scrunch of her nose.

  “I’m fine and hello,” he rasped out, taking in her long legs and the cleavage exposed by the low cut tank top. His dick stirred, and he sunk his teeth into his tongue. Why the hell did she have to go and say that to Jen?

  She removed her sunglasses and nodded. “Hi and two questions. First, why didn’t you come and meet me at the door when I pulled up?”

  “I figured you would find Mickey and me in record time, not to mention you have to walk by my office door to go upstairs. Besides, usually you walking in is preceded with you yelling through the house at the top of your lungs announcing your arrival.”

  Her full, lightly glossed lips twitched in a semi-smile, and she shook her head from side to side. “True. Next question.” Her cheeks tinted pink, and her perfectly arched brows furrowed. “How much of my conversation with Jen did you hear?”

  Lie. The truth will…to hell with it.

  “All of it.” Okay, so that was not the answer he had wanted to give her but at least it was honest. “To think you kiss your mama with that mouth.”

  Her jaw dropped, and her eyes widened then her lips formed an oh before temper sparked in her dark brown eyes. “Double bloody fucking hell.” She pivoted on her boot heel and stomped out of the room.

  His gaze fell to the sway of her hips and the way the denim of her beat up shorts curved across her ass. “Watch your language!” He shook off the images of helping her save a horse and shoved the chair away from the desk and proceeded to follow.

  She shot him a lethal look as he stepped in the hall. “Bite my ass, Brady.”

  Don’t tempt me, doll.

  “What are you, the profanity police?” She cast a leveled expression.

  He loved her comebacks and her often bad attitude. The woman standing in the hallway of his home didn’t even resemble the sad bride-to-be in the classy outfit he and Mickey had lunch with a month ago. Instead, there stood the small-town girl with a hot body, wearing her sarcasm like an accessory. “No, I’m not the profanity police, but your mother would have a fit if she heard you talk like that.”

  Felicia scowled and folded her arms across her chest, pushing her round breasts up and drawing attention to them. “Mom has a fit over everything, and let me tell you, when she finds out my ass is here in Carter Grove instead of back in LA, all hell is going to break lose.”

  He darted a glance to her left hand. Sure enough, the engagement ring from Satan himself still graced her finger. All four karats. The diamonds damn near overpowered her slender hand and perfectly manicured nails. He stepped closer and the faint scent of her perfume reached his nose, kicking his libido into high gear. “Your mom doesn’t know you’re here?”

  “No, I figured I’d wait two or three days before I tell her. Unless of course, Paul figures things out and tattles on me.”

  Brady started reading between the lines. “Paul doesn’t know you’re here, either?”

  Felicia scrunched her nose and her expression revealed her guilt. “No. When the going gets tough, the tough come to the ranch.”

  There were so many things he wanted to say to her right then and there. Instead, he nodded and decided he better go talk to Mickey and let him know the princess was on the property. “How long are you here for?”

  A small smile dusted across her lips, and he sunk his teeth into his tongue in order not to think thoughts that would lead to nothing but trouble. Her dark eyes narrowed, and her nostrils flared. “I don’t know, but with the way I’m feeling right about now, I may never go back.”

  Brady’s mouth dropped open. Oh yeah, he better go find Mickey, because by the look on the hell-bent beauty’s face and the tone of her voice, things were going to get interesting. Her mother was going to have a fit, and Felicia was already dressing like trouble.

  Let’s hope to God she behaves.

  Knowing Collin’s sister as well as he did, he highly doubted good behavior was on her list of priorities. Instead, she’d be downright bad.

  Sweet Jesus, grant me strength!

  “She said what?” Mickey stopped hammering mid-air as he glanced up from where he knelt in front of the fence post and blinked at Brady. Surely he’d misheard.

  His friend simply shook his head. “You heard right, and to make things even more interesting, neither Paul nor her mother know she’s here.”

  Mickey lowered the tool then shoved his hat further back on his head and studied his lover’s expression. “What aren’t you telling me?”

  “She’s not the same girl we saw a month ago.” Brady glanced down at the ground and kicked at a rock with the toe of his boot then rested his gaze back on Mickey, squinting from the glare of the afternoon sun. “She has that spark of the devil in her eyes.”

  Mickey absorbed everything, still having difficulties moving past her blatant comment of having one or both of them, sexually speaking. He banished the thought of her having him and Brady both at the same time. Sure, they had shared a woman once or twice in the past, but sharing Felicia, that was a whole lot of disaster waiting to happen, no matter how hot the sex would be.

  Not only was she their best friend’s kid sister, she just wasn’t a woman you bedded and tossed aside. There were feelings and emotions that ran deep, maybe too deep where he was concerned. He hadn’t really realized, until the truth hit, that she was marrying an ass.

  “Now you’re quiet. Too quiet.”

  Mickey met Brady’s blue gaze and debated being honest with him. How did he tell the man he loved he also had emotions for a woman—a woman who ranked up there with forbidden fruit. Inhaling deeply, he wondered if the conversation should wait a bit—or if he should forget saying anything. In a couple days, Felicia would be gone again and life would continue on.

  The thought bothered him. Actually, the whole situation was bringing feelings and emotions, not to mention questions to the surface he had no business having for the woman. Maybe what he was feeling was straight up guilt for what had happened in the past.

  Brady shook his head. “I don’t know what has gotten into you lately, but I wish you’d open up and tell me what the hell is bugging you.”

  “Everything. This whole s
ituation is wrong. She shouldn’t be marrying that asshole. I hope she kicks his ass to the curb.”

  A strange expression, bordering on pain, crossed the other man’s face. “She’s still wearing the ice rink on her finger. I wouldn’t get your hopes up just yet.”

  Bitterness and terseness coated his friend’s words. Mickey wondered if it had to do with Brady’s protectiveness over Felicia, or if he picked up on the feelings Mickey had for the lady in question.

  Brady glanced out at the land and focused on an imaginary spot near the barn for a long minute. Several emotions registered on his handsome face as if contemplating. He looked like he wanted to say more, but even when he returned his gaze back to Mickey, he never spoke what had been on his mind. “The fence can wait. We might want to find out what’s going on. She’s mad about something.”

  Mickey pulled himself off the ground he had been kneeling on and tossed the hammer in the tool box as he stood. “It would be nice if Collin would swing by once in a while and be there for his family.”

  “As much as I love him like a brother, there are days I want to shake him.” Brady’s gaze fell on the house, and again, an array of thoughts and emotions registered across his features, but disappeared all too quick for Mickey to identify.

  He noted the way the car was parked on the gravel drive. The angle of the vehicle proved Brady’s words to be true. The doll was pissed.

  Wrestling with emotions of his own, he picked up on Brady’s silence. Though common sense ruled, the words he longed to ask were a bad move, still, he needed to know. “Do you ever regret us?”

  The other man’s steps halted and he spun and stared at Mickey. “No, it’s not that.” His gaze raked over Mickey’s face, as if studying every detail. “Do you?”

  The question caught him off guard, and he digested the words. “No. I mean it Brady. It’s good between us.” He paused and hesitated over the other thoughts running through his mind like an out of control freight train. “I do wonder sometimes if something is missing.”