Unbroken: Country Fever, Book 3 (22 page)

BOOK: Unbroken: Country Fever, Book 3
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“Who the fuck is that?” Christian asked, voice slurred with sleep and pleasure.

“Claire’s father,” Tucker said at the same time she said, “My father.”

She paused with one leg in her lace panties and swung her gaze to Tucker’s. How did he know…?

Oh yeah. He’d been pow-wowing with her father while on the run.

She dropped her gaze and rushed into the rest of her clothes. Tucker and Christian dressed too. If she wasn’t so keyed up that her father was about to beat down the door to get to her and possibly attempt to defend her virtue, she might have taken more time to sigh over the touching way Tucker handed Christian his jeans and Christian straightened the collar on Tucker’s shirt.

Boot thuds in the kitchen.

Her heart surged into her throat. In a flurry, she ran to the bedroom door and ripped it open. She didn’t know which guy had the presence of mind to shut the door but she was grateful not to be faced with looking up in the throes of passion to find her daddy standing there.

“Claire!”

“Daddy,” she said breathlessly as she rushed from the room. She met him in the living area and stopped dead.

Barefoot, disheveled and smelling of sex. Hell, she detected the tangy flavor of her men on her tongue. The old phrase “you kiss your mama with that mouth” had never felt so close.

She jammed her hands into the back pockets of her jeans and stared right into her father’s eyes.

He’d aged since the last time she’d seen him. His hat sat a little lower, shading more creases around his eyes. And his shoulders looked softer. When she was little, she’d thought his shoulders the best and broadest in the universe—able to shelter her so perfectly.

Behind her, Christian and Tucker emerged and stood at her back, their shoulders creating an impenetrable wall.

Judging by her dad’s dark expression, they would need their strength.

“Which one of you thought it was a good idea to tag-team my little girl?” he asked.

“Hell,” she said under her breath. Then gaining a bit of footing, she straightened her spine. “Daddy—”

“Step aside, Claire doll,” he drawled. He jabbed a finger in the direction of the men behind her. “You and you. Outside now.”

“Jake,” Letty gave her warning tone from the doorway.

“Daddy, no—”

Tucker placed a warm, strong hand on her forearm and guided her out of the way. “Let me take care of this.” He stared right at her father.

“I’m willing to take it outside,” Christian said.

What the hell? “No!” She threw herself between the two men she loved and another she’d loved a lot longer.

In a rustle of denim and a thud of boots, all three men spilled out the door into the yard. She tripped behind with Letty wrapped around her like a ninety-pound suit.

“Don’t get in the middle of this, Claire. It’s what men do,” Letty pleaded.

“I’m an adult, dammit! He has no right barging in here and challenging my lovers as if they sawed off my chastity belt.”

“Lovers,” her father roared. He spun around, swinging a thick arm in a wide arc.

Christian ducked, and Tucker rushed her father. Using his shoulder, he caught him in the midsection—the softest part of him. Her dad grunted but reached down and gripped Tucker by the collar. He shook him, but Tucker remained on his feet.

“Stop! Letty, make them stop!” She couldn’t tear her gaze off the grappling limbs but clung to her aunt. Tucker steeled his thigh muscle. It bulged against the denim as he used it to lever himself up, lifting her father off his feet a bit.

Unbalanced, her dad staggered and took another swipe at Christian. “At least I knew Langley was fucking my daughter. But you?”

Christian’s eyes flashed dark, his jaw so tight she saw a feral flutter in the corner. “Name’s Christian Davis. Haven’t heard yours.”

It was a dig. He was letting her father know that she didn’t talk about him. Ever. Partly because it hurt too much that he was never around, but mostly because there was little to say about a man she’d seen five times in as many years.

“You bastards are taking advantage of my little girl.” He gained a hold on Tucker’s shoulder and flipped him off his feet.

Tucker scrambled back up, fury rippling over his body in waves. He circled her father as Christian dodged a punch.

“Stop it!”

This was insane.

Speaking of crazy, were those four-wheeler engines she heard?

“Claire’s not a kid. She’s old enough to make her own choices.” Christian shrank away from her father’s right hook before he could land it.

“And from what I understand,” Tucker huffed, still circling, “you weren’t around to help her with those choices even when she was a child.”

A sharp cry broke from her. “No more! Please!”

Her father cocked his fist and drove it at Christian, who jumped away before the knuckles dented his face.

Letty was back at her side and twisting her hands.

“You dare to accuse me of not seeing to my daughter’s needs?” her father demanded, arms widespread as if he’d gather Tucker and Christian together and crush them. His eyes, usually mild, were blazing with anger.

“I believe Chris and I just did that infinitely better,” Tucker goaded.

Her father’s face mottled red. A vein pounded in his neck. “You son of a bitch—”

“Jake Mickelson,” Letty bellowed from Claire’s side. “In the name of your mother, stop.”

He paused mid-reach for Tucker and pivoted his head toward his mother’s sister, perhaps the only person on earth who still held some clout with him.

“Sit yourself down and I’ll fix you something to eat,” Letty said, smoothing things with a good home-cooked meal as usual.

Her father looked from Letty to Claire, then turned to Tucker. “You wouldn’t have come back if not for me, and now I see I messed up bad by talking to you frankly.”

Christian looked confused. Tucker shook his head. “I came back of my own free will. This place needed me. This ranch, my horses, land. And these two people.”

“Jesus Christ.” Her father yanked off his ball cap and raked his fingers through his full head of hair.

Claire tripped forward on unsteady legs and right into her father’s embrace. Her father gathered her up, and she breathed his familiar scent.

“Why, Claire?” he asked, low enough she wasn’t sure the others could hear.

She tipped her face up to look at his beloved, craggy features. “Because I love them.”

Her father was silent for a long minute. Letty put her hand on his arm. “If you could have found two loves like Caren, would you have jumped onto that ship?” she asked.

Claire jerked. It had to have been a decade since she’d heard her mother’s name. When she was born, her father had insisted her name start with a C, just like her momma’s.

Her father tightened his hold around her until she could barely draw breath. Then all at once, he released her. She staggered, but Tucker was right there to steady her.

She felt the flow of unrequited anger running just under Tucker’s skin. As her father moved off with Letty into the house, Claire worked to gain control of her emotions.

In a short time, she’d risen to the peak with Tucker’s return. Then just as quickly been made to feel like a teenager, caught sneaking two boys into her room.

She squeezed Tucker. “Thank you.”

At any time he and Christian could have easily attacked her father. Instead, they’d danced with him enough to let him feel as if he was making some progress. She believed her father still had the fortitude to hold his own against either of her lovers one-on-one though.

Tucker gave her a boyish quirk of his mouth, and the silver glint of his new piercing drew her attention. “Why don’t you take her inside, Chris? I’ve got other family business to attend to.”

Claire followed his gaze to the corner of the barn, where his uncle and cousin casually leaned against the rough wood.

She sucked in a harsh breath. Tucker released her and strode toward his relatives. Christian caught her hand and towed her along to face the people who were most definitely there to cause trouble.

Without throwing a glance over his shoulder, Tucker said, “Take her inside.”

“Like hell.”

As they passed Boom Boom’s pen, the alpaca rushed out to meet Claire. Tucker twisted his head, obviously taking in the spangled sign and the pink bow sitting jauntily atop the animal’s head.

He kept walking.

“Leon. Dale.”

Leon spat a stream of tobacco juice and braced his legs wide. “See you’ve got the whole county riled up with your arrival home, nephew.”

“Nah, only a few people are going to get put in their place today.” Tucker clenched and unclenched his hands.

Dale’s clothes were splattered with mud and his boots were caked with it. He sneered at Claire until her stomach flipped. She never wanted to be alone with this man—not only because he was sure to make a pass at her, but because he would probably spill his guts to her. The last thing she wanted was a door to open to his brain. The way he smiled was creepy enough.

Christian stopped within feet of the men, his fingers tightening around hers.

“Got the papers right here, Tucker.” Leon reached inside his coat and eased a thick sheaf of papers out.

“Put them right back in that pocket. What about the words ‘not signing’ don’t you understand? You have enough money and land galore. If you used that land for raising stock, you’d be a millionaire for what…the sixth time? Seventh?”

Millionaire? Claire stared at his relatives.

Leon leveled his glare at Tucker. “I didn’t want to go to these lengths to get you to sign, Tucker, but I don’t have a choice. You realize there are ways I can work around you, legally?”

Tucker dug his boot heel into the earth. It was the only outward sign that his uncle was getting to him. “Not sure how you think you can do that, but I invite you to visit the offices of Sterns and Brindle. I believe my deed is all locked up tight against people who might…how should I put this? Try to force my hand.”

They stared at each other for long seconds. Claire glanced up to find Dale giving her a greasy smile. She shrank against Christian’s side.

Finally, Leon shoved the papers back into his coat and took a moment to tug his gloves more tightly onto his hands.

“You don’t leave me any choice, Tucker.” He lowered his head and cocked a brow at him. “It’s war.”

Tucker sliced the air with his hand casually. “I’m ready. But remember that now that you’ve declared war, I will do anything in my power to defend my property. Which means…” he took a step toward them, “…you’d better haul ass out of here.”

When they didn’t move, he said, “Now.”

Leon’s glare turned evil as he leaned in and poked a finger at Tucker’s chest. “Prepare yourself, boy.”

“I’ve got his back,” Christian spoke up.

Dale dissolved into sniggers. Leon shook his head and the pair of them loped back around the barn to where their four-wheelers were obviously parked.

For a long moment, the air was fogged with tense silence. When the engines started and droned away up the ridge, Tucker’s shoulders slumped.

“Goddamn, I never should have left.” He spoke so quietly, and the words were edged with such pain, Claire’s heart pricked.

Christian turned to her. “Go into the house. I’ll be there in a minute.”

She swallowed hard. Things needed to be said between Tucker and Christian, and she wanted to be privy to it. But she also respected that they might hold back if she was present.

With a nod, she started to move toward the house. Christian caught her back, and Tucker wrapped his hand around her arm. They spun her into them, sheltering her, warming her.

Letting her know that despite the insanity of the past few minutes, their feelings hadn’t changed.

Tucker grazed her forehead with his lips. “You need us to go inside and take care of your daddy?”

She shook her head. “Letty and I can handle him. Don’t worry about us.” She shot him a grin and a comical roll of her eyes. Tucker released her with a smile of his own. Christian gave her a parting smooch and sent her off toward the house with a pat on the bottom.

By the time she reached the kitchen, she was ready to take on her daddy as well as Tucker’s overbearing family. He’d come back to them, which counted for everything.

 

 

Tucker stared at the pink gems on Boomerang’s ankle cuffs. His eyes blurred. Leaning against the fence until the wood cut into his forearms did nothing to wake him out of his strange dream. A dream where his own relatives had completely turned against him, Claire’s father finally showed up after a year and butted into their business, and where alpacas were suddenly prima donna pets named Boom Boom.

Christian stood beside him, arms on the fence and head dipped in the same pose Tucker chose.

“What the fuck happened to my alpaca?” He scudded his gaze over the silly bow on its head and the way its body had been sheared into fluffy balls like a poodle. From the depths of the shed, he spied the glittering pink of a leash.

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