Colorado Flames WIth A Texas Twist

Colorado Flames With A Texas Twist

The third book in the Colorado Heart Series

By Sara York

Edited by Pam Ebe
ler

Colorado Flames With A Texas Twist Copyright © 2014 Sara York

Cover Art by Sara York ©Copyright 2014

Electronic Edition

This book is a work of fiction. All characters, places and events are from the author’s imagination and should not be confused with fact. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, events or places is purely coincidental.

Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced in any material form, whether by printing, photocopying, scanning or otherwise without the written permission of Sara York.

Warning:
This book contains material that only suitable for mature readers. Enjoy!

Dedication

Thank you everyone who has made this experience beautiful. Without you, Texas Soul Series wouldn’t have happened and thus the Colorado Heart Series wouldn’t have been written. You’re awesome!

Colorado Flames With A Texas Twist

Sara York

Chapter One

James
Davenport
took another sip of his coffee as he stared at the front of the firehouse. The bitter brew passed over his tongue and down his throat, but he didn’t register that he’d taken a swallow until he took another, this one tasted more acrid than the last. Why was he drinking this nasty shit? It wasn’t close to what the guys at the ranch made, but here he was, sitting in this impossibly small coffee shop right across the street from the fire station, wondering just how stupid he really was.

Two weeks had passed, and all he could think about was Brody. The man's thin lips drove him crazy. He'd wake to fantasies of Brody kissing him—Brody licking him—Brody sucking him. The obsession was going to kill him. Every thought was of Brody. That he hadn’t actually kissed the man didn’t matter, he just wanted Brody.

The door across the street opened and James sat up straighter, his gaze zeroing in on the young woman holding Brody's hand. Jealousy boiled up from his belly, ripping through him hotter than a bullet leaving the chamber. Brody pulled the woman into a hug, kissing her on the head before she ducked into a large black pickup truck and cranked the engine.

James aimed his phone so the camera was focused on the back of the truck and took the shot. The absurdity of the situation was almost enough to make him puke. He was being ridiculous and infantile and yet he knew that he sure as shit would look up the license plate later, finding out exactly who this woman was and what she meant to Brody.

James took another sip of the bitter brew to hide his anger. Counting backwards from twelve helped him calm down, kind of, he added the two extra numbers in his countdown because he knew ten little seconds wouldn't be enough to get him to the zone where he wouldn’t screw up. Twelve seconds wasn't enough either, but he'd fake the calm until he felt it. Today, when he got back to the ranch, he'd need to do a lot of physical activity. There had to be a huge project to consume his attention. If not, he'd make one up.

One thing was for certain, he had to stop following Brody around. The guy had a girlfriend, and it would be wrong for him to try to break them up. Funny that he could remain calm with a gun pointed at his face, but throw the sexy firefighter into the mix and he was fucked up, twisted in a million knots, and out of his mind. Hell, he didn’t even know if Brody was into men. Obviously Brody liked girls. This entire exercise was a waste of his time, but he craved even just a glimpse of Brody.

The waitress's thick heels clopped closer. "Hey Hon, can I get you another coffee? You sure demolished those eggs today. Funny, two weeks ago I swore I'd never seen you in town. Now you said you lived north of here. Close to the Banks’s place, I think, or was it the Putman's? Anyway, I was saying to Sheryl that we needed to find out if you were single. There's this dance, a holiday dance, really it's a Christmas dance, but it's before Thanksgiving so we call it a holiday dance, and there’s this girl who wants a date. Well not really a date, but I think you two need to date. Every good-looking boy like yourself needs a girl on his arm."

Becky was the waitress’s name. He'd learned that the first time he’d shown his face in the diner to spy on Brody. She liked to talk. So much so that James couldn’t keep up with her running dialogue. At the moment, she was droning on about the dance. Fear filled his belly because it sounded like she was going to set him up with a woman. When he'd come in here the first time, he'd told a lie. Admitting that he was part of the Wild Bluff crew so soon after the fire would have brought interest to the ranch. It was bad enough that the local firemen and a few volunteer fire fighters had been on the ranch. Only Brody had seen the inner sanctum of their operation, and he wasn't talking, but someone eventually would. People gossiped, and now the ranch and its people were no longer unknowns in the community. Someone would ask questions. Wild Bluff was supposed to be hidden, off limits to the public, and that's why it made no sense for him to seek out Brody. Reckless and thoughtless could be used to describe his actions, but he kept coming back for one more look, hoping that that one look would turn into a touch.

The door dinged and both he and Becky turned to stare. He sucked in a breath, shocked to find Brody stepping inside the restaurant with two other men. It took Brody a few seconds to look up, but when he did, his gaze came to rest on James. The recognition was instant. For a flash of a second, there was something in Brody’s eyes that gave James hope. Then Brody's expression changed. His mouth turned down, his eyes narrowing as his cheeks turned red. Brody turned away, pulling his phone out of his back pocket.

James watched everything Brody did out of the corner of his eyes. Being a skilled spy helped, but Brody threw him off and he wondered if he was being too obvious. Becky started chatting about the dance again, trying to get him to agree to attend. He was annoyed that she kept going on about it but he sure as heck wasn’t going to say yes.

His current location was less than optimal, his equipment lacking, and he was trying to hear what Brody was saying over Becky’s chatter. He caught every third word or so and that wasn’t enough.

Disappointment wove through James when Brody turned to the group of men he’d come in with and spoke. "Sorry I gotta go." Brody tried to leave but the other guys stopped him from walking out the door.

"Whoa, we're eating breakfast together. You're staying. Come on, this is a celebration and we're buying." The shorter guy next to Brody wrapped his arm around Brody's shoulder and tugged him over to a table about ten feet from James. Brody didn't look at him once before he sat with his back to James. The crushing defeat of being ignored stole James’s breath, and he shrunk down in his seat.

Becky patted him on the shoulder, her attention on the guys who'd just sat down with Brody. "You need anything else, just ask.” Before she left his table, Becky poured more coffee into James's cup then spun toward the newcomers, sidling up to Brody. "Well, what are we celebrating? Don't tell me, you got engaged or something like that. I wasn't sure you were dating anyone."

Heat filled James. Why the fuck was he doing this? A relationship with Brody couldn’t go anywhere. It was stupid for him to come into town and torture himself with thoughts of Brody in his arms, kissing and touching him in intimate ways.

Becky didn't stop talking, but James stopped paying attention after the mention of engagement. He had no idea if Brody was engaged, or if any of the guys at the table were, but he didn’t want to know. He would never have a chance with Brody, and if he were truthful with himself, he’d admit that he never did. It was just one more reminder that a guy like Brody was way out of his league and light years away from anything he could hope to have. He was a skank, a player, a man-ho, and not someone any good guy would want to have as theirs. James closed his eyes and shook his head. Fantasies of love and promises of faithfulness leading to forever were for other guys. He'd never be good enough for that.

James pulled ten dollars from his pocket and dropped it on the table. He stood and took two steps. Everything would have been fine, but Becky, caught up in her tales of people she thought were going to get married or should get married, didn’t realize
she was pouring too much coffee. It splashed on the table, spilling onto Brody's lap. He jumped up and spun right into James's arms.

The contact was the sweetest thing he'd felt since the last time he'd touched Brody. Instinctively, James wrapped his arms around Brody's waist, holding him steady. They were chest-to-chest, pelvis-to-pelvis, and face-to-face. Time stood still, the air thinned, and James tried to remember to breathe. All he could think about was how wonderful Brody felt in his arms. It didn't last long, and no one else seemed to notice how close they were standing.

To James, those few seconds of contact were everything. In that small space of time, he was able to feel something beyond lust and anger. The contact took him to a place where hope existed. His mind cleared as he stared into Brody’s light-blue eyes.

Brody stepped away and Becky started patting his pants with her apron. It was all kinds of wrong. If he weren’t so sad, James would be laughing, though the flashes of pink on Brody's face were adorable.

"I'm fine." Brody waved his hand, trying to get her to stop touching him.

James glanced down, noticing the hard-on developing in Brody’s pants. His interest was piqued. Who was that delicious bulge for? James doubted that it was for Becky since she was closer to fifty and round like a pumpkin. She was sweet enough, but she didn't seem to be the type of girl Brody would go after.

Becky turned her attention to James, her brows lifted. "Oh my, looks like some of his mess got on your pants too."

James swung his gaze to Becky, wondering if she had any idea how her words sounded. Of course she didn't. He gambled that none of the other men at the table had any idea either. They weren’t dirty rotten scoundrels just thinking of a way to get Brody’s cock in their mouth like he was.

"It's fine. I'm headed home," James said, knowing he needed to leave before things got worse.

"Oh dear," Becky sputtered and started wiping up the coffee spill on the table.

"I'm going to change," Brody said before heading out the door.

James followed. He was surprised when Brody turned into the parking lot where his truck was located. Then he saw Brody's red Silverado and realized that he'd somehow parked right next to the man. He was only feet away when Brody glanced over his shoulder. He stopped but James kept moving. When Brody turned, James got an up close view of the icy chill flashing in Brody's eyes.

"Why are you following me?"

James opened his mouth to speak but Brody didn't give him a chance to answer. Brody wrapped his arms around James’s back and tugged him close, pressing their chests together. The kiss that came next was filled with passion, twisting all the way to his dick and down his legs. His knees grew weak, which was a first, but the kiss didn't last long enough to really satisfy him. Brody pulled back then shoved James away. Both were breathing hard, their eyes wide. Brody spit on the ground, his mouth twisted in a grimace.

"Leave me alone. I haven't said anything. Stop following me everywhere. I see you watching me all the time. Just stop, please." The pink smudges were back on Brody’s cheeks. James wanted to kiss the blush and taste the arousal that was plainly evident.

James thought about the words Brody had said and smiled. Brody wasn't as oblivious as James assumed he was. "You knew I was following you?"

"Oh my God," Brody threw up his hands and stalked away before turning back. "I'm not going to say one word. Okay, you've scared me enough. Now leave me alone."

"But you kissed me."

Brody deflated. His shoulders dropped and he hung his head. "I didn't mean to. You were just too close. Please, stop following me."

James studied Brody’s face. Dark circles rimmed his eyes and fine lines had developed around his mouth. The man looked exhausted. In his need to control and possess, he'd become a jerk. Just like usual, he was an ass.

"I'm sorry. I'll leave you alone."

James stepped around Brody and opened the door to his truck, stepping up into the cab. He started the engine and popped the truck into gear, waiting for Brody to move out of the way before he took off.