Trouble in Cowboy Boots (11 page)

“Wyatt’s not here,” Emily said, clutching her empty glass. “He’s out riding fences.”

Diana gave her a knowing smile. “He’ll be back. He’s expecting me.” She let her eyes rake over Emily from head to toe and back again. “I can’t imagine how he stands having a mousy little thing like you in the house, but I guess if you stay in the kitchen it doesn’t matter.”

Emily stared at her, searching for just the right retort, but the sound of hoofbeats distracted her. She looked up to see Wyatt riding into the yard and pull to a stop in front of the barn.

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“Here he is now,” Diana smiled and headed toward the barn.

Wyatt had barely dismounted before she threw her arms around him and kissed him, pressing every inch of her body against his., rubbing against him like a sleek cat Emily waited for Wyatt to push her away but instead he kissed her back just as enthusiastically, hands reaching down to cup her ass.

Emily closed her eyes, wondering if she was going to throw up. What was he doing? What was going on here? He hadn’t said a word to her about expecting Diana or having plans with her.

You’re not his social secretary. Or his wife. He can do whatever he wants, remember?

She turned back into the house, unwilling to watch the unpleasant scene. In the kitchen she rinsed her glass and stuck it in the dishwasher, wishing she had the nerve to raid Wyatt’s liquor cabinet. Instead she sat down at the table to look over her list for supper, hoping to distract herself.

Hoping Wyatt would come in and tell her Diana Landry had dropped dead in the yard.

Instead he poked his head in the back door and said, “See you tomorrow.”

Emily’s head snapped up. “You won’t be here for…for dinner?” She wanted to say

“for tonight” but her courage failed her.

Diana pushed him to the side and wedged herself into the doorway. “He’ll be eating something much better.” She gave Emily a bawdy wink. “I told him I’d come pick him up because I didn’t plan for him to have the strength to drive home tomorrow.” She pulled on Wyatt’s belt. “Come on, cowboy. We’re wasting time.”

Emily sat at the table, staring at the paper in her hand, until she heard the truck engine turn over and the big vehicle pull out of the yard. It was blatantly obvious what he and Diana the Slut would be doing tonight. They couldn’t have made it more obvious. Her eyes burned and she felt sick to her stomach. She’d always thought when Wyatt wanted to end this he’d at least be straight about it. Honest. That seemed like the kind of person he was. Not one who would humiliate her like this.

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She would not cry over this. No man was worth it. She’d learned that painful lesson the hard way. But she certainly couldn’t stay here. She’d make dinner, then get one of the hands to take her into town afterward.

God, what a mess.

She knew Roxie was at work but Lola would be in her place behind Blue Belle’s, resting her feet after working the breakfast and lunch shifts. She’d just have to confess the whole thing and ask if she could share a room. She had no idea what she’d do for a job, but she’d worry about that tomorrow.

Pulling herself together she called Lola on the cell phone she’d held onto.

“Hey, Emily.” Lola’s voice was filled with curiosity. And anxiety. “You okay? Why are you calling?”

“Don’t say anything,” Emily begged. “Just listen, please.” Digging her nails into her fingers to keep herself from falling apart, she explained her situation in terse, short sentences. “Don’t ask me any questions right now, okay? Just tell me if I can bunk in with you.”

“Oh, honey of course you can. But—”

“No buts. We’ll talk about the problems when I get there. I’ll see you after supper.”

Disconnecting the call and mentally saying what the hell, she grabbed a water glass and headed for the bar in Wyatt’s den. It wasn’t locked. The hands knew to respect the invisible off-limits sign. Deciding that bourbon would be her medicine of choice, she poured a generous amount into the glass, carried it back into the kitchen and added a handful of ice cubes. Then, sipping slowly at the drink, she finished putting dinner together.

“Auntie Em, are you okay?” Hardy’s young eyes held concern as she put the last bowl of vegetables out. “You seem kind of…funny.”

“I’m fine, Hardy. Just fine. Eat before your food gets cold.”

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Evan Trippy, an older hand, stared at the glass she picked up from the counter.

“That’s a little dark for iced tea, Auntie Em. You haven’t gotten into the boss’s bourbon, have you?”

“Of course not.” She hoped the expression on her face was indignant enough. It was ruined, however, when she tripped over her feet walking back to the counter. “I’m fine,” she insisted as four of the hands leaped up to help her. “Sit down and eat.”

She stood at the sink, taking small sips of her drink, while the men finished dinner in an unusual silence. Emily couldn’t look at them and no one apparently could figure out what to say to her. By the time the glass was empty her head was swimming and she wished for nothing more than a gun to blow a hole through both Wyatt and Diana the Slut. She rinsed the glass and refilled it, draining it in the hope the water would dilute the alcohol but all it did was make her dizzier.

When the scraping of chairs on the floor signaled the men were finished eating she turned to clear the table, but they were already handling it.

“You should go sit down, Auntie Em,” Hardy said, concern etched on his face.

“You don’t look like you feel too good.”

“I’m fine, Hardy. And I can clean up the kitchen.”

But when she took the plate from Hardy’s hands it slipped from her grasp and shattered on the floor. Her immediate urge was to cry but she was determined not to shed tears in front of the hands.

“Come on, Auntie Em.” Evan’s voice was gentle as was his touch on her elbow. “Sit down at the table and I’ll get you some coffee.”

Since she didn’t seem any too steady on her feet she allowed herself to be led to a chair. One of the other hands brought her a mug filled with hot liquid and she wrapped her fingers around it.

“Thank you,” she told him. “Evan? Do you think one of you could run me into town after dinner? My friend Lola is staying in that little apartment behind Blue Belle’s.”

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She saw the men doing the cleanup exchange looks. Finally Evan nodded.

“Sure thing. You going to visit your friends?”

“Yes. I need a night out.” She concentrated on not spilling the hot coffee as she took small swallows.

But when she came out of her bedroom lugging her suitcases both Evan and Hardy raised their eyebrows.

“You going somewhere, Auntie Em? I mean besides to visit Lola?”

“Yes.” She set the suitcases on the floor. “Could you help me with these?”

Hardy looked at Evan then back to her. “Does the boss know about this?”

“The
boss
is otherwise occupied,” she spat. “And it’s none of his business.”

Evan took her hands in his. “Em, if something’s wrong just tell us. We’ll fix it.”

Emily ground her teeth together, trying to keep the room from swimming before her eyes. “I. Just. Want. To. Go. To. Town.”

The cowboy shrugged. “All right, then. Hardy, put these suitcases in one of the trucks. I’ll help Auntie Em outside.”

“I don’t need help,” she protested, then proceeded to trip over her feet again.

The ride into town was thick with silence. Neither of the men apparently knew what to say and didn’t want to upset her by saying the wrong thing. Emily was just as glad. Her head was still swimming, although not as bad since the coffee, and she didn’t want to fall asleep.

The moment they pulled up behind Blue Belle’s Lola opened the door to her apartment. Evan and Hardy set down the suitcases and stood looking at Emily.

“You gonna be okay, Auntie Em?” Hardy asked.

“What’s wrong?” Lola frowned in concern. “Is she okay?”

Evan shrugged. “You’d know that better than me.”

“Do you have any idea what happened?” Lola asked.

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“I’m right here,” Emily said through gritted teeth. “You don’t need to discuss me in the third person.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He looked at Lola. “Want us to hang around?”

Lola shook her head. “No. I’ve got it from here. Thanks, guys.”

“Our pleasure.” They both touched the brim of their hats and moved back to the truck.

“Okay.” Lola gripped Emily’s arm. “Come inside and I’ll fix some coffee while you tell me every ugly detail.”

“Don’t want coffee.” Emily shook her head from side to side.

“Maybe not, girl, but that’s what you need. Come on.”

* * * *

Wyatt was well on his way to being drunk and he knew it. He set the glass on the marble-topped nightstand, looking at it with disgust.

Diana leaned her naked body against his back and trailed her long red-tipped nails along his arm and down to his thigh. “You just need to relax, honey. You’re all uptight.

Come on. Lie back and let me make you feel good.”

“Forget it,” he muttered, stifling the impulse to gulp the rest of his drink. In all his thirty-eight years—at least since he’d started having sex—this wasn’t a problem he’d ever been faced with. Getting it down was usually the challenge, not getting it up.

Diana slithered around to face him and straddled him, her cunt centered directly over his unfortunately soft cock, her large breasts swaying in front of his face. “How about if I tie you up this time,” she grinned. “We haven’t tried that yet.”

“I don’t think so.” He placed his hands around her waist and lifted her off his body.

He realized suddenly that rather than enticing him, she disgusted him, a startling revelation. He and Diana had played BDSM games several times over the past five years, both of them enjoying the edgy tension of it. Neither of them was into the complete lifestyle but the games ramped up their sexual pleasure.

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But today Diana could have been spread-eagled on a St. Andrew’s Cross with her cunt wide open to him and her nipples clamped and he didn’t think his cock would pay one bit of attention. It pained him to realize that it wasn’t the games that he’d come to enjoy but the woman involved. And Diana Landry was just not that woman.

All he could think of, imagine, see in his mind was Emily Proctor and that terrified him more than anything. Commitment to him was worse than a bad case of the mumps but it seemed it had snuck up on him when he wasn’t looking. And the cure he’d run to get wasn’t even making a dent.

“Give it a minute, Wyatt. You know I can make you feel good.” Diana knelt beside him, swept her long hair out of the way, wrapped her fingers around his cock and lowered her mouth over it.

If anything it made him softer.

Trying hard not to be the asshole he knew he was, he cupped Diana’s head and moved it away from him.

“Don’t take this the wrong way, but I think you’d better take me home.” He shifted away from her and swung his legs off the bed.

“Home?” There was no mistaking the shock in her voice. “But we practically just got here.”

He stood up and began pulling on his clothes. “I know, and I can’t tell you how sorry I am. But face it. This just isn’t working anymore.”

“You bastard!” Something cold splashed on his back and he realized she’d thrown his drink at him.

“I am that,” he agreed. “I’m not being fair to you.”

“It’s that mousy little nobody, isn’t it? That dreadful piece of nothing you took pity on.”

He shrugged. “Whatever. I just need to get out of here.”

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“Then you can walk,” she screeched at him. “You want to leave, go ahead. But I’m not giving you a ride.”

Wyatt zipped up his fly and tucked in his shirt. “Fine. And…I’m sorry.”

“Sorry?” she screamed. “You don’t know what sorry is. You haven’t even started being sorry.”

He barely made it through the door before he heard the splintering of glass behind him. Taking the stairs two at a time he managed to make it outside before Diana did him real bodily harm. As he walked up the drive to the road he pulled out his cell and punched the number for Lazy Aces. He hoped someone was in the barn to answer.

“Yeah, boss?”

Good. It was Evan, one of the more levelheaded of the hands. “I need you to come pick me up. I’ll be on the highway at the entrance to the Landry place.”

“Pick you up?”

“Yes.” He gritted his teeth. “Right now. And bring Emily with you.”

There was a long moment of silence. “Boss, she’s not here.”

“Not there?” He frowned. “Did she get a ride to visit one of her friends?” After the humiliating way he’d walked out on her he wouldn’t have been surprised if all three women were after him with a skinning knife.

“She’s gone, Wyatt,” Evan said quietly, “but not for a visit. She took her stuff with her.”

Wyatt’s stomach clenched and the expensive bourbon he’d slugged down threatened to surge back up into his throat. “Who took her and where did she go?”

“Me and Hardy drove her. I was afraid she’d try to walk if we didn’t. We left her at her friend’s place behind Blue Belle’s.”

“Evan, you get your ass here right now. Speed limit be damned. I need to get to town.”

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* * * *

“I never should have brought her here,” Lola said to Roxie, trying to push Emily’s drink away from her. “She already had a snootful when she showed up.”

Emily had her arms crossed on the bar, her head resting on them. “I’ll have two snootfuls if I want,” she mumbled.

“That’s okay.” Roxie reached a hand across the bar and brushed the hair away from her face. It was a quiet night so she was able to stand and talk to her friends. “She’s earned it. That jack-off. Wait until I tell Cliff what his good friend has done.”

“Nooo,” Emily wailed. “Don’t tell. Don’t tell.” She wanted to die of embarrassment at the thought of anyone else knowing how she’d been embarrassed. She wondered if she’d ever get the image out of her mind of a half-naked Diana plastered against Wyatt’s hard body, a knowing look in her eyes.