Beauty and the Beasts [Bride Train 6] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) (11 page)

BOOK: Beauty and the Beasts [Bride Train 6] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting)
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“As long as you have the right men.”

“That, Sarah, is the problem.” Sophie took a cloth and wiped the table clean. “So far I haven’t found one, much less three men to suit me. Perhaps someday my princes will come…” She clasped her hands together at her chest, struck a pose, and sighed like a heroine in a melodrama.

Sarah laughed along with her, but an ache sat in her chest. It all looked so simple. But she’d been wrong about her father, her uncle, and her fiancé. All of them had betrayed her. She didn’t have a choice about her relatives, but she should have known Tierson was too good to be true.

Past history proved she was no judge of men. No matter how much she wanted love, caring, and hot nights, how could she put herself under the control of a man, much less three?

Chapter Eleven

 

For the next few days Sarah kept herself so busy she had no time to think or feel anything but tired. She worked in her bakery in the morning and then moved to the hotel, taking everything she hadn’t sold. Since she had many customers, there wasn’t much to carry. She was more than covering her costs, she was making money, and it felt good.

She loved living in the loft over the kitchen. Oliver no longer bothered Nora, preferring to demand scratches and cuddles from Billy. The boy groused about him not being a dog, but enjoyed the company. Oliver still refused to climb down out of his tree but had no problem going up and down the ladder to the loft.

Her one time to relax was between dinner and supper. Sophie insisted she sit down and eat to keep Billy company. Otherwise she wouldn’t have stopped all day. Busy hands meant her mind wouldn’t drift onto things it shouldn’t.

Only in the middle of the night did she admit to wanting Gabe’s quiet but arousing presence, Oz’s wild kisses, and Luke’s sarcastic humor. But she woke each morning with a renewed determination to have only the cat, friends, and an occasional man in her bed. It made her continually aroused and frustrated, all at once.

She smiled when the door opened and Billy came in. Oscar Cutler followed closely. Her heart stopped for a second, then began pounding. Oz nodded politely and removed his hat. His red curls bounced free. He smoothed them with his hand, but they resisted. Like his personality, nothing seemed to keep them down. But today he seemed serious instead of giving her the sexy winks she expected.

“Mrs. McLeod said I could brung him,” insisted Billy. He sounded like he’d dragged a stray dog home to his mother. Since she’d already dished up plates for herself and Billy, she nodded for them to sit. One plate was heaped with stew while the other had only a small ladle’s worth. Oz looked from one to the other.

“Do we flip a coin to see who gets a mouthful, and who gets to eat?” Oz’s loud whisper to Billy carried across the room. When he winked his eye at her, she knew he meant it to.

“That little bowl is for Miss Unsworth,” replied Billy. “If there ain’t enough, you kin have mine.”

“No need, there’s lots of food,” said Sarah. She picked up another plate and walked to the stove. “How hungry are you, Mister Cutler?”

“As hungry as a camel with six humps,” he replied, causing Billy to laugh.

If Oz knew about their daily joke, what else had the boy overhead and told the man? A flutter started in her belly in memory of the fantasies that filled her nights. It made her both eager and shy. Had his partners told him about how she kissed Gabe before he rejected her? Would it make Oz want to kiss her again?

She filled his plate extra full and set it on the table. She always sat across from Billy, so she pushed Oz’s plate to the other side. But he walked behind her. He pulled out her stool and looked down at her, patiently waiting. Did he suspect she planned to work around the kitchen until he was finished, and then eat?

“Mr. Cutler, this is just a hotel kitchen. Please, seat yourself.”

“No, ma’am. I couldn’t sit and eat if a lady had to stand. Especially a lady I was courting.” He dragged the stool out a little farther, emphasizing his point. He was not going to give up, so she had to give in gracefully, for Billy’s sake. Of course the boy watched with eager eyes.

“Thank you.”

She stood between the table and stool, her senses on full alert. Oz slowly brought the stool up behind her. She held her breath. Because it was a stool and not a chair, he had to lean over and grasp the seat rather than the back. And since her bottom was a bit wider than the seat, his thumbs touched her when she sat. She held her back stiff and straight while he adjusted the stool, lifting her along with it. He took a few tries to get it right. Each time he leaned forward his shoulders brushed against hers. She shivered at the touch, though it was just his shirt against her dress. He’d been the same way at the Christmas party, giving her small touches that aroused an answering heat.

“That just right, ma’am?”

His warm breath stirred the hair which had escaped her kerchief. He inhaled deeply, his nose between her shoulder and ear. She shuddered when something grazed her neck. His lips?

“Lovely,” he whispered.

This time she knew it was his lips as he nipped her, just enough to let her know he was there. He followed it with a gentle kiss, a brush against her skin where Billy wouldn’t see.

“Do I hafta wait every time we eat?”

She had to clear her throat before she could answer. She looked at Billy rather than the disturbing man settling across from her.

“If we were in a home, especially in a dining room, all the males would wait until the ladies were seated,” she explained. “But this is where I work, and I might have to finish something before I can sit. It wouldn’t be right for me to make you wait, just because I was too busy.”

“Good. You must be real strong, Mr. Cutler, to lift Miss Sarah like that.”

“A gentleman never talks about a lady’s weight,” said Oz quietly. “Even if she’s not much bigger than a minute.”

“She don’t eat enough ’cause she works too hard,” Billy replied in a hoarse whisper. “That’s what Mrs. McLeod says.”

“A gentleman also doesn’t speak about someone as if they weren’t in the room,” said Sarah. Both males dropped their eyes. She settled herself and reached for her spoon.

She noticed Oz held his spoon between thumb and finger rather than in his fist, like most of the men using the dining room. Billy tried to copy him. He’d scoffed earlier at Sarah’s attempts to teach him, saying men don’t eat like that. Oz was a good influence on the boy.

“What did ya name yer dog?” asked Billy when he’d demolished most of his stew.

“Daisy.”

“That’s a girl name,” Billy complained.

“When I stopped to wash her in Warm Spring Creek, I found out she was going to have puppies. That means she’s a girl.”

“What’s she look like under the mud?” Billy ripped his last biscuit in two and wiped the plate with it. She’d taught him that much, so he no longer picked up his plate and licked it clean.

“Brown and white, mostly. She has long, silky ears and she curls her tail up high when she’s happy.”

Billy looked at Sarah. Knowing what he wanted, she tilted her head toward the stove. He rushed over, smacking his lips. He liked to take his time choosing a tart to make sure he got the absolute biggest. Oz’s smile reached his eyes. He winked with the one she could see, but laugh lines crinkled out from under the black patch of the other.

“When’s she gonna have puppies?” asked Billy, still undecided as to which tart to choose.

“Not for a while. Miss Sarah might be married to Luke by then.”

She was not going to ignore that comment. She set her spoon beside her cleaned plate. “Those puppies will have had puppies before I marry that man.”

Oz tilted his head to the right and looked at her. “So I’ve heard.” He rested his arm on the table and leaned forward until his face was close. He dropped his voice to a purr.

“I also heard that the streets of Virginia City are paved with solid gold, and that Miss Jessamine Bonham Elliott will never marry.”

Billy strolled over. “Huh! Everybody knows streets ain’t paved with gold, and Jessie got married last year.”

“Exactly,” said Oz.

He leaned back and dared her to reply. If it was Luke suggesting that she’d magically change her mind, she would have snapped a scathing comment at him. But this was Oz. She’d lost herself in his kiss, the first one that made her forget everything else while he touched her. She dreamed about him while lying alone in bed. The rakish pirate would be strong, secure, and sure of himself. He’d learn about her with his fingers and his lips, skimming them over her whole body.

And he’d find her mark of shame.

Her chair shoved back when she stood. It ended their conversation as Oz had to stand as well. He grinned, knowing she’d done it on purpose. He likely thought she was shy.

“I gotta take Da’s dinner to him,” said Billy. He set the handle of the dinner bucket over his arm so he could hold his precious tart in his hand and still close the door.

“What a thoughtful boy,” murmured Oz when Billy was gone.

He sauntered around the table and stopped beside her. He held out his hand, palm up. When she didn’t move, he raised an eyebrow in challenge. She narrowed her eyes and placed her palm on his. She could feel the heat rising up her chest and over her face, but she kept her spine rigid.

He curled his fingers, capturing hers. He bent over and kissed her hand and then nibbled her knuckles with his lips. He moved closer, until her nose was a few bare inches from his shirt. She couldn’t help inhaling. She expected the scent of leather and horse, but it was the something extra that filled her brain.

“Thank you for the excellent meal and your company,” he whispered.

She forced herself to look up at him. It was disconcerting, him having only one eye. She looked from the black patch to his blue-green eye, and back again.

“The other one works, but not well,” he said softly. “It doesn’t look too bad, but I’ve got scars. I don’t like to scare the horses, so I wear a patch when I come to town.”

The horses wouldn’t care. It was the people who would judge him by his visible scars, as they did Luke. Judge and condemn, without knowing how he’d been injured, or why. Just as they judged her.

“May I see?”

He blanched, but recovered quickly. “Of course.” He untied it slowly, his fingers trembling.

“I apologize,” she said. “If I’m disturbing you by asking—”

“No, it’s so tight it gives me a headache. I’m glad to take it off. It’s just that nobody’s seen me without it in years, other than Luke and Gabe.”

Fading scars from below his cheek to his forehead bisected his right eyebrow, but it wasn’t as bad as she expected. Both eyes tracked her body as he looked her over. Even if he had little vision in that eye, she expected using both would give him a better picture.

She smiled. “That’s better. Now I can look straight at you.”

He swallowed. “You really don’t mind?”

“Why should I? It’s who you are. Some carry scars inside. They’re no less real, but no one knows about them. At least you’re honest about who you are.”

“You want some honesty?”

“Of course.”

This time she could watch his smile enter both eyes. The color intensified, becoming more green than blue. Her lips automatically curled up in response.

“I can’t think about anything but kissing you again.”

Her nipples tightened into points. She had to open her mouth to get enough air. His eyes drifted closer to hers. When she lifted her head to see him better, she heard him softly whisper
yes
.

He rested one hand on her right hip and pulled her close to his chest. He brushed her kerchief off with the other. She closed her eyes in embarrassment when he ran his fingers through her short hair.

“I cut it after—”

He swallowed her next words by brushing his lips over hers. Then he pressed deeper, pulling her tight against him. The combination of his strength and gentleness broke her resolve. She groaned and lifted her hands to his chest. He responded, running his tongue under her top lip. She shivered in arousal.

His hands lightly roamed over her back as he nibbled, causing havoc with her breathing. When he released her lips, she tilted her head back, gasping. He nipped his way down her throat to her shoulder. She tilted her head to the side to encourage him. He groaned and lifted his head.

“You may be a great cook, but you’d keep me hungry for years.” He rested his chin on her head. A moment, and he stepped back.

“I lose too much sleep thinking about you,” she said.

He laughed. “Angel, if we were together the way I want, we wouldn’t be thinking. Or sleeping.”

He put his hands in his pockets, as if to stop himself from reaching for her again. His smile faded and his nostrils flared. She watched his Adam’s apple as he swallowed hard. Her swollen breasts and pussy ached for his touch.

“No quick reply this time?”

“I’m used to going without sleep,” she said. “But I don’t like tossing and turning in a cold bed.”

Oz closed his eyes and groaned. “Angel, that is not something to tell a single man after kissing him senseless.” Heat from his eyes seared her when he stepped closer. “Not unless you want to share that bed. You wouldn’t be cold with me there.” He brushed her cheek with his knuckle. “And if we do that in town without a wedding, the local busybodies would tar and feather us.”

She blanched, stepping back and putting her hand over her chest. “Would they really do that?”

“Probably not, but they might set the Vigilantes after me.”

“For what?”

“Since when do they need a reason?” He bounced lightly on his toes. “Everyone knows I’ve been in a lot of fights. They could easily make something up. But you’re safe. And I’d better go before I do something we’d both enjoy.”

He pulled his hands out of his pockets, frowning at the eye patch in his hand. He stuffed it back in his pocket.

“You’re leaving it off?”

“I only wore it because I thought it looked ugly. If you don’t mind, then no one else matters.” He looked around the kitchen. “Though things aren’t clear, I can see a lot better without it. Thank you again. For the food, the company, and”—he waved his hand at his eye—“the freedom.” His eyes stroked her more intimately than any of the men who had touched her naked body. Her body eagerly responded. His nostrils flared, knowingly.

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