Espino, Stacey - Her Cowboy Triple Team [Ride 'em Hard 4] (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour) (15 page)

“Ask Ben where he gets his seeds for the spring crop. He has to buy them because he ain’t allowed to harvest his own fall seed. That’s just the tip of the iceberg. Farmers near these bio fields are finding pesticide resistant weeds. It’s a fool’s move, creating a cycle of debt and destroying the environment. You’re overstepping your bounds, little lady,” said Mr. Brackworth.

“Am I? This is my brother’s business. I have every right to be here and speak my mind. You all are the ones judging friends and neighbors out of blind hatred. If you’re so concerned with their financial well-being, why not help rather than judge?”

“You’ve seen all the protests, Ms. Roberts.
Canada
’s main agricultural export is wheat, and two-thirds of our buyers refuse the GE wheat. Makes no sense to make the switch when nobody wants it.”

Ben took off his hat, his dark hair matted but sexy. “If we make the switch, they’ll have no choice but to buy. How long until we’re behind the times when other farmers make the switch and we’re still in the Stone Age?”

“Ain’t going to happen. Wheat farmers have been doing the same thing for generations, and we’re still known throughout the world for our exports. Change is a mistake in this case.” Mr. Brackworth sounded more convincing when he spoke logically rather than shouting rude remarks.

Kayla wasn’t sure what to believe, because she wasn’t raised on a crop farm. She was raised around the rodeo circuit, mostly keeping to herself while Clay was on the road. Regardless, she still planned on defending Ben. His brother was passionate about switching to genetically engineered wheat, so she knew he wasn’t doing it to spite his neighbors.

“No one has a shotgun to your head. If you’re not interested in GE seed, don’t buy into it. But keep your own beliefs to yourself. Every farmer has the right to choose their own crops.” She touched Mr. Wilder’s arm, trying to ignore the uproar around her. “Sorry about this. I’ll be in to visit soon. If you ever need extra help, just give me a call.”

“You’re a good girl.” He smiled before returning behind the desk.

She didn’t even utter another word, just escaped out of the office into the fresh air of the parking lot. Her ears thanked her once the buzz of voices was left behind.

* * * *

Ben was speechless. No one had ever stuck up for him, certainly not a woman. He was so used to being trashed by the other wheat farmers that he’d grown used to being a pariah. Something clicked inside him as he watched the passion on Kayla’s face as she attacked the other ranchers. She spoke with conviction, the same kind
Austin
used when discussing the future of farming. He’d gone along with his brother to make the switch. Ben respected
Austin
and his choice, even though it had cost him more than he could know. His friends had alienated him, his social life was decimated, and he’d plunged into a depression. The only reprieve he found from the daily battle of life was his private escapes when he’d play his guitar, no worries, no thoughts, just his music.

Now he saw Kayla in a new light. She wasn’t just a pretty face but a woman worth more than he’d given her credit for. He’d pushed her away, unwilling to feel any attachment for a woman his brother coveted or become tied down with commitment. Now he saw the error of his ways.

Once he joined her in the parking lot, he stopped her, turning her around by the shoulder. “Why’d you do that in there?”

“I don’t like to see anyone get picked on. I know how that feels too well.” She kept trying to walk away from him. The sun shimmered off her dark waves of hair. How had he failed to notice her dark beauty before? He was intrigued by Kayla Roberts.

“Let me drive you home,” he insisted, following along behind her.

“I’m like two minutes up the main street, Ben. I’m fine. Thanks for the drive into town.”

He watched her walk away, her shapely ass swaying as she moved. The woman was a goddess in denim. Ben stood there in the middle of the parking lot but wanted more than anything to follow.

Chapter Twelve

When she checked her messages there was another one from Grant. She worked at the Richmonds’ every day since she started, even though she was hired for part-time. Once she got all the records straightened out, she could move down to a couple days a week as planned. Then she’d have to worry about a future career again. Two days a week wasn’t enough to support herself, and she didn’t want to rely on Clay for things like food and basic bills. She promised herself on her thirtieth birthday that she would change things in her life. If she had to move to get a job and real life, then she’d do it. The biggest complication she faced, besides the usual money concerns, was the men in her life.

Clay wouldn’t want her to move. He’d made it a priority to keep her close, under his wing. Grant and Austin both showed interest in her, and she felt the same way about them. But until any commitment was solidified, she had to think about herself and her future.

The following Monday she walked to work, leaving earlier than normal to avoid Ben showing up to drive her. Just like with Clay, she wasn’t his responsibility. It had rained the previous Friday, but now the high-pressure system had the sky a flawless blue, not a cloud in sight. Since she was early, she decided to spend a little time painting, or maybe dreaming up her next piece.
Austin
had set her up a little spot in the hay barn where she kept her spare easel, palette, and supplies.

As she cut across the long grass between outbuildings, she held the little pendant on her necklace. She realized how much she missed Grant, his smile and teasing. This was the longest stretch she’d gone without running into him at the office or in town. It wasn’t for lack of him trying, because he called her every day and night, but she’d missed the calls. Only once did she try to call back, but his mother answered so she didn’t bother to leave a message.

As she entered the dim interior of the barn, she heard the faint sound of music. She froze in place, trying to decipher the sound—a guitar. Kayla left the shelter of the barn and walked around the perimeter of the building, following the comforting melody. Her trail led her through the tall feed corn. She brushed the sharp, crisp stalks to the sides as she cleared a path. Why was music coming from way out here? And why was she daring enough to try and find the source?

She came to the edge of the corn, entering an area previously plowed. It was a small patch surrounded by a wall of green and gold. In the center sat Ben, one knee bent up and a guitar in hand. He was in a daydream, his eyes closed and head down as he continued to strum out a beautiful rhythm. It didn’t help that he wore no shirt. His golden, toned skin glistened under the sunlight, every hard ridge of muscle taut as he belted out that country melody.

“I didn’t know you played,” she said, not comfortable standing idly by while he had no clue she was there.

He jerked to attention, his fingers running haphazardly over the strings as he righted himself. “Shit, what time is it? Did I miss picking you up?”

She shook her head. “No. I decided to come in early to save you the trip.” Kayla went over and sat cross-legged beside him. “Nice spot. Do you always come out here to play?”

He shifted with unease, as if caught with his hand in the cookie jar. “It’s nothing, just a dumb hobby from when I was a kid.”

“You’re really good. I liked listening to you. Will you play something else?”

“I’ve never played for anyone before.”

“Play for me.”

She wanted to get through to Ben. He was like the third link she needed for completion. How could she settle down with Grant and Austin without forever yearning for the one she lost? Her dark angel. Now that she was alone with him, his usual irritation for her no longer present, she easily remembered the night they shared in her apartment. He’d been a skilled lover, ruthless in his dominance of her body. Just looking at the masculine hair bordering his face, his thick, dark lashes, and his fuck-me eyes made her pussy moisten.

She’d been a good girl, denying her ever-present needs since the last ménage encounter, but she was like a bomb ready to go off. Looking at Ben now, those wickedly sinful tats staring back at her, made her hyperaware of her body’s needs. Her heart rate had increased, her breath deepening. Had her pupils dilated? She felt flushed, every cell crying out to be touched.

He watched her curiously for a minute, his head tilted slightly as if she were a problem to solve. Then he played. She honestly hadn’t expected him to humor her, but the fact he did increased the intimacy in their little circle of space within the feed corn. Where had all his previous malevolent energy gone? He’d made her feel unwelcome, undesirable, due to his curt appearances, never reflecting on their one night of passion.

She drifted along as he played. Kayla watched his fingers, long and tapered. Mostly she savored the fervor he had for his music. His love for each note was palpable. It was no different than her and her painting. The similar passion made them kindred spirits. She closed her eyes, savoring the song he gifted her with. When it was finally over, she felt bereft, as if waking from a beautiful dream and not wanting it to end.

“Thank you.” It was the most appropriate thing she could think of to say at the moment.

“Did you really like it?”

“I loved it. You have a special gift, Ben.”

He set the guitar gingerly on the ground beside him and shifted to face her. “It’s my therapy.” He smiled, something she rarely saw Ben do. It was a good look on him.

“Like my painting.”

“Right. Now you owe me. I want to see something you’ve painted.”

She wondered why he was suddenly being nice to her, showing her a small glimpse into the man under the rough and tough exterior.

Kayla shrugged. “Mostly I just paint scenery. Your brother actually wants me to create a mural in his room.”

“His room? No. Paint it somewhere we can both see it.” He reached out and touched her ankle. It was a simple touch, not even on her skin, but it held a great significance. He was literally reaching out to her. It was the first time since their ménage, and she savored it.

After finally coming to the realization that Grant may actually want to have a real relationship with her and wondering where she stood with
Austin
, she didn’t want to wonder about Ben, too. Kayla didn’t want to keep second-guessing herself.

“Why are you being nice to me all of a sudden?” She wasn’t being accusatory, just asking a basic question.

He trailed his hand higher and squeezed her knee slightly. “That’s my fault. I’m not used to having a good woman around. The girls I’ve dated haven’t been worth keeping, but you—” He blew out a breath, looking up at the sky for a moment before continuing. “You’re something special. I’m not sure I even deserve a decent woman like you after the life I’ve lived.”

Kayla wanted to scream at the top of her lungs that he
was
worthy. She wanted him more than breath, needed him to love her along with Austin and Grant. It would be her ideal ménage, the relationship she now dreamt for herself but also never thought possible. Could the three men ever agree to share one woman? Her? What about their professional differences regarding the GE grain? Would that forever keep them apart, forcing her to choose between Grant and the
Richmond
brothers? Love should take precedence over money.

“People change, Ben. What if I want you?” She didn’t bother to disguise the need in her voice.

The man was half-naked and edible. They were alone under the warm sun, just the two of them. If he forced her to the prickly, plowed earth she’d have opened her legs freely and let him fuck her hard. But he only stared at her, his eyes roaming over her face and sweeping her body like an erotic caress.

“You’re being bad again. You had a taste of my naughty side and you want more, don’t you?”

How had the conversation slipped from inspirational to erotic? His gruff words made her folds slick, just like the other night. He had a primal way about him, a dominance she couldn’t deny.

“I thought you weren’t interested in me.”

“I may have been a fool to push you away, but that doesn’t mean you haven’t starred in my fantasies since that night. All I can think about is your gorgeous tits and pink, little pussy.”

She gasped for breath, so ready to be fucked. “What about Grant?”

“Grant ain’t here. It’s just you and me.” His hand slid higher up her thigh, slowly moving to where she needed him most.

What about her dream ménage? She had to fight for what she wanted if she had any hope of achieving it. “What about
Austin
?”

That hit a soft spot. He retreated, which wasn’t her intention. “Shit.” He scrubbed his face as if to wake himself from a spell. “You’re absolutely right. What kind of brother am I being?
Austin
’s plumb love-struck, and now I can finally see why.”

“So you’ll hand me over to him that easily?” He didn’t answer her. “Aren’t you man enough to share?”

“You know I’ve shared women with
Austin
before. This is different, though.
” He stood up, swatting the dirt from his jeans with his Stetson. It was black, so fitting of her dark lover. She’d had him in her grasp for a moment but now felt him slipping away like water through her fingers.