Taking Catie: The Temptation Saga: Book Three

T
his e-book
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T
o the men
and women of the rodeo, some of the greatest athletes in the world.

C
had McCray loved women
. Brunette, blond, or redhead, thin and willowy or curvy and voluptuous, he adored them all. Exploring their bodies and sating his sexual hunger was his favorite hobby.

Yes, he did adore women.

Commitment?

Not so much.

Since women seemed to love him as well, life had been good for his thirty-two years. In his two decades of loving the fairer sex, only one had tried badgering him into commitment. He’d gotten rid of her faster than a bucking bronc tosses a cowpoke. Now, he was on his way out the door to pick up a new luscious lollipop he’d met at a community potluck. Light blond hair, cherry-red lips, and curves that went on forever—Amber Cross, the new manicurist in town, was a tasty treat he looked forward to sampling.

The ring of his cell phone interrupted his lascivious thoughts. He scooped it out of his pocket and stared at the screen. His brother Zach.

“What’s up, Zach?”

“Got an opportunity of a lifetime for you, Chad,” Zach’s deep voice said.

“What might that be?”

“Well, it seems you, Dallas, and I have been chosen to judge the rodeo queen contest this year.”

Chad guffawed into the phone. “You mean Dusty and Annie are going to let you and Dallas ogle the cheesecake of Bakersville? You’ve got to be kidding.” The mere thought of his disgustingly happily married brothers judging a beauty pageant brought a smirk to his lips. “I, on the other hand, would be honored.”

Zach chuckled. “Our wives trust us. We’re committed.”

“Should
be
committed, you mean.” Chad checked his watch. “Do you need anything else at the moment? I’m due to meet a lovely little cream puff in half an hour.”

“Meet her? You mean you’re not picking her up at her place?”

“Nope. We’re meeting at the Bullfrog for a drink.”

“One day, little brother,” Zach said, “you’re going to meet a woman who knocks your boots right off. A woman you want to treat like a lady.”

“Not likely,” Chad said. “My life is pretty darn perfect the way it is. When I need a home cooked meal, I crash your house or Dallas’s. And when I want a critter fix, I have Sean and the twins. All the family love, but none of the responsibility. That’s the way I like it.”

“Sean’s my critter, and the twins are Dallas’s.” Zach’s tone turned serious. “Don’t you want one of your own? You’re not getting any younger, you know.”

“Worried about my biological clock, Zach?” Chad laughed.

“Nope,” his brother said. “Just worried you’re going to wake up one day and find yourself alone.”

Chad smiled, imagining the sweet red lips of Miss Amber Cross roaming over every inch of his body. “One thing I can guarantee you, brother. I’ll never be alone.”

C
aitlyn Bay ran
into her brother’s arms at baggage claim in Denver. Fatigued and dehydrated from the trip from Paris, she looked a mess.

“Hey, Catie-bug,” Harper said, kissing the top of her head. He pushed her away. “Let me look at you. You’re all grown up.”

“You just saw me in Brussels at Christmas, Harper,” Catie said, “and right now I’m a fright.”

“Nonsense, you’re gorgeous as always. People at home aren’t even going to recognize you. You left four years ago a freckle-faced girl in ponytails, and now you’re a chic Parisian grad student.” He shook his head. “I still don’t know why you never came home for the holidays.” He steadied her as she stumbled. “And still a notorious klutz.”

Catie ignored the jibe. “You know why. I wanted to travel, to see the world. And I did, Harp. I saw it all.”

“I think you stayed away to avoid a certain cowboy by the name of McCray,” Harper said. “Chad’s still single, you know.”

Catie looked away. “My bags here yet?”

“Your plane just got in, honey. Your bags’ll be a few minutes. Nice save, by the way.”

“What do you mean?” she asked innocently. Inside, her heart was thumping like the hooves of a racehorse at the thought of Chad McCray.

“He’s damn near twice your age, Catie.”

“I have no interest in Chad McCray. And he hasn’t been twice my age since I was eleven and he was twenty-two. Even so, I happen to be twenty-one years old now, as you well know. Legal and everything. I can even order a margarita when I want one. In fact, I think I want one now.”

“Now?”

“Heck, yeah. I’m exhausted, and my brain is fried. I can’t think of a better salve for myself at the moment. Mind if we stop at the Bullfrog on the way home?”

“I think you’ve lost your mind, little sis. You’ve never set foot in the Bullfrog.”

“Because I haven’t been able to. Legally. But now I can. I want my big brother to buy me my first legal drink.”

“You’ve been drinking in France for four years.”

Catie gave her brother a friendly swat. “You make it sound like I’m some kind of a lush. You know I hardly ever indulge. But right now a little lime and tequila sounds thirst-quenching good. You can’t get a Colorado margarita in Paris, Harp.”

“Even with all that Grand Marnier and Cointreau they got there?” Harper’s handsome face twisted into a teasing grin.

“Give me plain old Triple Sec and Cuervo any day,” Catie said. “And I can’t wait to sink my teeth into some Colorado Angus. French food is wonderful, but I sure have missed Colorado cuisine.”

“Ma’s got a big homecoming planned at the house tomorrow night,” Harper said. “Everyone shy of Murphy’ll be there”—he winked—“including Chad McCray.”

“I couldn’t give two puny figs,” Catie said, avoiding her brother’s gaze.

Her words came out strong, with a huff and a scorn.

But they were one big ol’ lie.

T
he Bullfrog Lounge
featured live music and the best margarita outside of Mexico. Or so the sign said. Mostly what the bar featured was a crowded dance floor that forced couples to mesh together whether the music was fast or slow. This suited Chad just fine. Miss Amber Cross was as gorgeous as he remembered, and tonight a tight denim skirt hugged those narrow hips like a snakeskin. Her bodacious breasts nearly poured out of her snug cotton tank top, and her platinum waves settled nicely over her sleek golden shoulders. Lips as red and full as he remembered, and he’d already had the pleasure of sampling them while they sat at the bar sipping their drinks. Another drink, a few more close dances, and he figured she’d be ready to hit the sack.

“What are you thinking about, cowboy?” Amber asked, as Chad led her back to their seats at the bar.

“Thinking another drink might be in order, honey.”

Amber sat down on her bar stool and crossed her creamy thighs. “That dancing did make me thirsty.”

“What’ll it be this time?”

“Same thing. A cosmo, I think.”

Chad chuckled under his breath. Those girly drinks did nothing for him. His brothers favored scotch and bourbon, but Chad was a beer man all the way. “One cosmo for the lady,” he told the bartender, “and another Fat Tire for me.” Chad threw a twenty on the counter. “Keep the change.”

“So tell me more about the infamous McCray brothers,” Amber said. “I’ve heard lots, but being new here, I’m not sure what’s gossip and innuendo and what’s truth.”

Chad let out a boisterous laugh. “Honey, it’s all gossip here in Bakersville. It’s a small town, and everybody knows everybody else’s business. What exactly have you heard?”

“Just that you all are the richest men in town, owners of the largest ranch. And you all love the ladies.” Her sweet lips curved in to a flirtatious grin.

“Honey, my big brothers are both married. Lovesick as they come.”

“Oh? Are they as fine looking as you are, Chad?”

“Some say finer.” Chad winked. “Dallas, he’s the oldest, is married to Annie, the vet here in town. They have twin girls, Sylvie and Laurie, named after their grandmas. And Zach, he’s the middle brother, is married to a sweet little girl we’ve known since we were kids. He and Dusty have a four-year-old boy, Sean.”

“And your parents? They still around?”

“My pa died nearly ten years ago and my ma just last year.”

“Goodness. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bring up bad memories.”

“It’s okay, honey. My ma had aggressive breast cancer. By the time she was diagnosed, the docs only gave her a year to live. She made it two. We consider that good fortune.”

“Wow.” Amber took a sip of the cocktail the bartender set in front of her. “I’m real sorry. That’s tough.”

“It was, but we’re fine. We’re muddling through. My brothers have their families, and they take good care of me.”

“Meaning?”

“Meaning, I can crash with them when I need some family time. Mostly I hang at my own place, though. And speaking of my place”—he took her hand and rubbed his calloused thumb over her smooth manicured fingers—“I’ve got the makings for more cosmos there. And the sweetest black lab you’d ever want to meet.”

“Oh, I love dogs,” Amber gushed.

“Marnie’d love to meet you, honey,” he said, circling his thumb in her palm. A little hand massage always sent the right message.

“You have remarkable hands,” Amber said, closing her eyes. “Ever think of going into the nail business?” She let out a girlish giggle.

“Can’t say I have, honey,” Chad said. “My ranch keeps me pretty darn busy.”

“Mmm. Well, you sure know how to give a good hand massage. Come by the shop sometime, and I’ll return the favor. No charge.”

“I’ve got a better idea.” He dropped her hand and ran his fingers up the smooth silk or her arms and shoulders.

“What’s that?”

“How about you give me that massage tonight?” He leaned over and kissed her lips lightly. “At my place.”

“You are just one sweet-talking cowboy, aren’t you, Chad McCray?”

“Is that a yes?”

“What must you think of me? Barely in town a month and going home with a man I hardly know.”

“I think we’re attracted to each other. What’s wrong with that? As for barely knowing me—” He trailed his lips to her ear and nipped her lobe. “I guarantee you by morning we’ll know each other a whole heckuva lot better.”

She shuddered under his mouth, and he smiled against her cheek. Bingo.

“Sure, it sounds fun,” Amber said. “Let’s go.”

Chad chugged the last of his beer, took Amber’s hand to lead her to the door of the bar, and ran smack dab into his neighbor Harper Bay.

“Watch where you’re going, Bay,” he said jovially. “You damn near knocked me off my feet.”

“Hey, Chad,” Harper said, “who do you have there?”

“This is Amber. She’s working for Judy at the beauty shop. Amber, Harper Bay. He runs the ranch next to ours.”

“Nice to meet you.”

“A pleasure,” Harper said, taking Amber’s hand. “Can you hold on a minute, there’s someone I know would like to see you.”

“Who?”

“Give her a minute,” Harper said. “She went to freshen up.”

“Her?” Chad’s brain churned. Who would Harper have with him? He looked toward the ladies room, and within ten seconds, a goddess emerged. Tall and sleek, with mahogany hair that drifted past her shoulders in silky waves and a face that could rival Helen of Troy in beauty. And a body…breasts as luscious as any, curvy hips, and long legs that went on forever in those clingy jeans. Who the hell was she?

Harper turned and grabbed the woman’s hand. “You remember Catie, don’t you, Chad?”

Chad’s stomach dropped, as did his jaw. This was Catie Bay? Little Catie Bay, who used to wear her brown hair in pigtails and spent her life in the barn with her horses?

Had she always had breasts?

Where were the freckles? The braids? The…little girl? Where was the damn little girl? That little girl had nursed a mega-crush on Chad growing up. He and his brothers had always known. Ever since he’d been paired up with Catie’s older sister, Angelina, for a project in high school and he’d spent massive time at the Bay ranch. Catie’d been four then and had followed Chad around like a lovesick pup. Damn, she’d been a cute little thing. He’d seen her a lot over the years, watched her grow up. Hell, he’d danced with her at Dallas’s wedding. She wasn’t more than seventeen at the time, and he’d been, what? Twenty-eight or so? She’d been turning into a pretty thing then, but she was still a kid.

Then another image flashed through Chad’s mind—the last time he’d seen Catie Bay. At her eighteenth birthday party, some four years ago now. She’d cornered him in the private gazebo at her ranch, and…

His groin tightened.

He was eleven years her senior, and he’d stopped it. But it had been damn near the hardest thing he’d ever done. He remembered luscious eighteen-year-old lips clambering to touch his. Perky eighteen-year-old nipples poking through her silky green dress. Damn, she’d looked good in green, but she was a kid. Still had a light spray of freckles across her nose…

This woman standing next to Harper was no kid.

Nope, no kid at all.