Ride Me Dirty Read online

  “Great. Then let’s meet at the Barking Dog at eight.”

  “The Barking Dog?”

  “It's a bar on the east end of Main. No excuses.”

  I looked around the kitchen and realized it was going to be awfully quiet by myself. There were no honking horns, no police sirens. There weren't even any street lights. A night out couldn't hurt, especially if I made good progress with the attorney in the morning. “All right.”

  “Great!” I could hear her pleasure in her voice.

  “Hey Cara?”

  “Yeah?”

  I glanced at the rooster clock once again. “Do any of the coffee shops have wifi?”

  If I could whittle down my emails, then I'd feel better spending a few hours with Cara.

  “There are two in town and I'm sure they have it. But I think they're both closed by now.”

  “It's four in the afternoon!” Shit. Shutting the fridge door with more force than necessary, I wondered how a coffee shop stayed in business with those hours.

  “They open at five a.m. though.”

  Five. I could do five. I was on east coast time anyway and could get that brief emailed to my boss before he even arrived at the office. After that, I could get in a few hours of work before my meeting at ten.

  “I'm hanging up now so you don't change your mind. The Barking Dog. Eight o'clock.”

  After putting the phone back on the base on the wall, I went over to the coffee maker and grabbed the pot to fill at the sink. Some people might survive on junk food. I survived on coffee.

  CHAPTER THREE

  CATHERINE

  “Since you own the house, you should stay, or at least keep it and use it for vacations,” Cara said as she stirred her straw around in her drink.

  The Barking Dog was more brewpub than dive, with a wall of booths, high top tables and the original bar that had a mirror behind it and a brass rail. The owners had done a fantastic job of making it look like a Wild West saloon, but without the spittoons and poker tables.

  I'd joined Cara and her husband, Mike, at one of the booths.

  When I'd received the first email from Charlie's executor, I'd recognized the name immediately. Sam Kane.

  God. Sam fucking Kane.

  I'd been surprised, for he was only a few years older than me, but if he were one of the few attorneys in town, it was logical for Charlie to use him. But Sam Kane. It had been a simple school girl crush I'd had on him, furtively glancing at him whenever he'd hang out with Cara's brother, Declan. They'd been in high school together and I remembered, when I was at Cara's house, them making tons of food and eating it all while watching movies.

  I'd been the outsider, just visiting from New York, but I'd been—gah!—all knobby knees and braces. I hadn't even discovered hair product to tame my wavy hair back then. I hadn't even had boobs. As the friend of a kid sister, I knew they didn't even take notice of me. Why would they have? The last summer I'd come to visit I'd been only twelve. Twelve! What high schooler even glanced at a twelve year old? When I never went back to Bridgewater for the summers anymore, Sam Kane slipped from my mind.

  But now… now he filled my every thought. Was he as cute as I remembered?

  “Earth to Katie,” Cara singsonged.

  I blinked, refocusing on my friend and her husband. It was weird to hear that nickname again. I was never Katie to my parents. I'd only been Katie when in Bridgewater.

  While Cara was a petite redhead with peaches and cream complexion, Mike was built like a football linebacker and was quite tan. If it weren't for his quick smile and the tender looks he sent his wife's way, I'd be a little intimidated.

  I spun my vodka tonic around on the cocktail napkin. “It's not mine yet. I have to sign for the deed tomorrow.”

  “Whatever,” Cara replied, waving her hand. “You lawyers and your official signatures. It will be yours.”

  “It does feel weird almost owning property so far from home,” I replied.

  “You could make this your home. With that property free and clear, it would be cheaper than living in New York.”

  I almost snorted out my drink. “Anything is cheaper than New York,” I countered.

  Mike grinned.

  “I live in a shoe box apartment, but I'm never there except to sleep.”

  Cara looked up at her husband. “See?”

  I glanced between the two of them. “What?” I asked, a little worried.

  “You work too hard,” Cara offered. “You need to live a little.”

  “Got a boyfriend?” Mike asked.

  I felt myself blush, but hoped the soft lighting hid it. I thought of Chad, the asshole. “I have an ex-husband and that's enough.”

  “You can't let one guy ruin it for you.” Mike pointed at me. “You're young, smart, beautiful. Maybe it's the guys in New York. What are they called, metrosexual?” He took a swig of his beer. “What does that mean anyway?”

  Cara and I laughed.

  “I'd think Sam Kane is looking for a partner,” Mike commented.

  I stared at him, wide eyed. “A partner?”

  “You're both attorneys. I'm sure you could easily find clients here instead of a big firm that only allows you to sleep.”

  Mike was a rancher and while his hours catered to livestock and chores, his pace of life was vastly different than mine. There was no commute to work. No rush hour. No overtime or deadlines. No IM's, no texts from upset bosses, no overloaded inbox. Just big skies and cows.

  “Katie thought you meant a different kind of partner,” Cara clarified, her mouth turning up into a grin.

  Mike looked at his wife confused for a moment, then understanding dawned. “I vouch for Sam, Katie.”

  “Good to know,” I mumbled, taking a sip of my drink. Elaine wanted me to have wild monkey sex. Cara was clearly matchmaking, and Mike was a job recruiter. I hadn't even seen Sam since I was twelve and it was like my friends were a committee that gave me a rubber stamp approval to work with, and more importantly, fuck Sam Kane.

  “Sorry, I'm late.” An attractive guy with blond hair came over to the table, leaned in and kissed Cara. On the mouth. Was that a hint of tongue? And she let him. No, and Mike let him.

  What. The. Hell?

  My drink was halfway to my mouth and I froze, my eyes going from New Guy to Cara to Mike and back.

  New Guy whispered something in Cara's ear and she looked up at him adoringly, as if he were… Mike.

  Mike nudged Cara with his elbow and all three of them turned to stare at me.

  “I told you she didn't remember,” Mike said.

  Cara laughed. “Katie, you should see your face!”

  I flushed and felt like I was left out of some kind of joke.

  “Um… yeah, well—”

  New Guy shook his head. “I'm Tyler, Cara's other husband.”

  Mike and Cara slid over to make room for Tyler in the booth. He moved in beside them, Cara wedged happily in the middle. One dark, one fair, one red head.

  “Holy shit,” I muttered, and took a big swig of my drink. I waved down the waitress and gave her the signal for another round.

  Cara laughed and cocked her head to the side. “You really don't remember, do you?”

  “What? That you have two husbands?” I leaned in and whispered the last, afraid someone around us would hear. “I would have remembered if you told me, I promise.”

  Mike shook his head. “You don't remember that Cara has two husbands or that most women around here do?”

  “Most women don't—” I opened my mouth to disagree, but closed it. Frowning, I looked around the bar, then past it to the families seated farther away in the restaurant. There were a lot of tables with a woman, kids, and—two men. Not every table, but enough to make me swallow. Hard. Holy shit. I glanced at Cara and her men again. “But Cara, your parents—”

  “You remember my mom, obviously, and my dad, Paul.”

  I nodded, for I'd played at their house often, had lunch. Cara's dad even fixed my b
ike chain once. Charlie had bought a red cruiser bike for me that last summer.

  “You've met Frank before?”

  “Yes.”

  “He's my other dad.”

  “You're other… He ran your ranch. I… I thought he was the foreman.” I remembered Cara's parents and the foreman, vaguely, and from the perspective of a twelve year old. I never saw Cara’s three parents together, that I could think of, but that didn't mean anything. My parents were only together for work functions and charity dinners, at least until recently. They’d begun to travel together when I was in high school. Cruising the Mediterranean, wine tours in Burgundy, African safaris. Without me. I’d always felt like the afterthought, hell, the mistake. They’d ignored my existence as much as possible, making time in their busy schedules to sit in the crowd during my prep school, and then college graduations. When I’d graduated from law school, they’d been on a cruise in the Bahamas, but sent an email congratulating me. I’d never seen them touch, or cuddle, or, frankly, act like they liked each other at all. Cara and her husbands were making me extremely uncomfortable, and, if I were completely honest, a bit envious.

  Cara nodded. “Frank does run the ranch. But it’s their ranch.”

  “But you—” I pointed between the three of them who seemed very comfortable with this topic. They weren't joking, they weren't anything but blatantly in love.

  “If you look around, you'll see it. Not just the bar. The town, too.”

  I glanced at the other tables again, looking at the women, half expecting to see each of them with a flashing neon sign over their heads that said I have two husbands!

  “It's illegal,” I added, then felt bad. Shook my head. “Sorry, but this is all so crazy.”

  The waitress brought the drinks then and I was glad for the refill. I could feel the effects of the first drink, and welcomed the heat that spread through my stomach.

  After taking Tyler's order, the waitress left and all three of them watched me expectantly. And they weren’t wrong. I had questions.

  “Does every woman in Bridgewater marry two men?”

  All three of them shook their heads. Mike lifted his arm and placed it along the back of the booth behind Cara. He was at ease, comfortable. “Not everyone. Some women only marry one man, some marry three. It's not that it's unusual, it's just… normal for us.”

  I wasn't sure how polyamory was normal, but the way Mike and Tyler looked at Cara, I could see they were happy.

  “Yeah, but…” I fiddled with my fingers, thinking about sex and how that worked.

  “The sex?” Cara asked, as if reading my mind. She grinned, then glanced at one man, then the other.

  “Watch it, babe,” Tyler said, putting his hand on top of hers.

  “I was going to say—” She glanced slyly up at him. “—that it's awesome. What woman wouldn't want two men to take care of her? You should try it!”

  Cara wiggled in her seat, her cheeks pink with a blush of excitement.

  “It's not for everyone,” Tyler murmured.

  I laughed. “I think I need to work on one man first. Two? That's a bit of a stretch for me.”

  “There's a guy at the bar eyeing you,” Cara said, tilting her chin in that direction.

  Without any subtlety, we all turned to look.

  I recognized him immediately, then sighed. “That's not a man, that's your brother,” I grumbled.

  Cara laughed. “Still, he's waving to you and wants to say hi.”

  I sighed, slid across the seat. “Wait, do he and another man share a wife?”

  “Single,” Cara replied.

  “I'll go and talk with him and get the next round.”

  Mike held up his glass, almost full. “Take your time. If Declan's not the guy for you, just wait. You're going to be like a flower to the bees, sweetheart.”

  I gave Mike a doubtful look.

  “Don't do anything I wouldn't do,” Cara giggled.

  Wedged between two men, both of whom were her husbands, I could only imagine what she did do.

  As I walked over to Declan MacDonald, I thought about what I'd just learned. Two men! Cara was married to both Mike and Tyler. God, how did that work out? Obviously, I'd heard of threesomes, but that was like… a one time thing, right? Get it on with two hot guys, check off that fantasy from the bucket list, then get back to reality. Follow the rules. Find a good man, settle down, get married. But Cara was married to two men. Married. As in forever. Did they all sleep in the same bed? Or…

  “Hey, Squirt.” Declan pulled me in for a big hug. He was as tall as I remembered, but he'd filled out. With similar coloring to Cara, no one would doubt they were siblings.

  “God, Declan, it's been a long time.” Even though he'd been older, in high school and had me and Cara tagging along on occasion, he'd always been nice to me. Kept an eye on me when I knew my parents didn't. I didn't have a big brother and as a kid, that's what I always thought of him to be.

  He pushed me back, put his hands on my shoulders and looked me over, then frowned. “No ring on your finger? What's wrong with the men in New York?”

  What was it with everyone these days? Why was everyone so damn worried about my status as a single woman? I was divorced, not dying of some incurable disease. Did I look that lonely and desperate?

  Tilting my head to the side, I looked at his hand. “No ring for you either. Haven't found a wife… and another guy to share her with?”

  His smile slipped a little and his eyes turned serious. “You didn't know?”

  I shook my head and bit my lip. “Didn't remember. Or, when I used to come, too young to understand. I just found out, really.” Glancing at Cara, she was smiling at something her men said, their heads angled close to hers. It was obvious they were together. “You don't mind? Cara, I mean?”

  Declan let me go, then directed me to sit at one of the bar stools. “I'd rather not think of Cara with any man, but Mike and Tyler are good to her.”

  “Two?”

  “That's the way it is in Bridgewater. It's the way it's been for over a hundred years. Hell, the area was founded on the principle. It's accepted, embraced even. No one divorces.”

  “But two!” I repeated, waving my hand in the air. “Seriously? It’s not even legal.”

  “I heard you were a lawyer.” As if that explained my answer. “Only one of them actually marries the woman. The rest is just a mutual understanding.”

  “Some understanding. I couldn’t stand my ex-husband. Why would I want two of them?”

  Declan grinned. “You might be surprised, Squirt. We're raised to put women first, in all things. We protect them, cherish them, love them. Take chivalry and amp it up about ten times. When a man finds the right woman, there's no going back. Can you say that about your ex?”

  I laughed then, thinking of Chad. Chivalry? Protection? “God, no.”

  “You've just found the wrong guy. Guys.” When I looked skeptical, he went on. “You like sci-fi movies?”

  I shrugged, confused by the change of topic. “Sure.” I couldn't remember the last time I was at the theater, but I could envision Star Trek and little green men.

  “It's like a tractor beam. When a guy gets his sights on his woman, she's pulled right in. He doesn't waver, doesn't doubt. Never cheats, never sways. It's… powerful.” He glanced up and his smile widened. “Kind of like that.”

  I turned to look and found a man I didn’t recognize approaching us. A hot, gorgeous, virile, stunning stranger. Damn, he was hot. He nodded at Declan as he took the barstool next to me, but his attention didn’t waver for long. With a short, “Dec,” his intense gaze returned to me.

  “Hello. I’m Sam Kane.” He held out his right hand like a perfectly reasonable human being.

  Me? I froze as the name registered—slowly. Sam Kane.

  Sam was big and broad like a football player with the good looks of a cover model. His nose had a slight crook to it, giving him an air of danger, or at least a bar brawl or two. He screamed c
owboy, and yet his dress was more corporate than Carhartts.

  His greeting moved through my mind about as fast as chilled molasses through a straw. I knew I was supposed to say something, but damn, I couldn’t seem to remember how to talk. This was even worse than my FUBAR on the airplane with hottie cowboy Jack. Yeah, that was fucked up beyond all recognition. Now, I was two-for-two in embarrassing myself with sexy men. Go me.

  Sam Kane had been cute when I was twelve. Now, holy fuck. Beam me up, Scotty.

  With a chuckle, and a protective hand on my shoulder, Declan made the introductions. “Sam, you remember Katie Andrews from… God, when we were in high school. Katie, this is Sam.”

  I placed my much smaller hand in his large palm and finally remembered to breathe as he gently squeezed. Tingles crept up my arm and I hoped he'd never let go. This was the teenager I'd mooned over? Shit, he was not a teenager any more. He was like sex on a stick with a fucking cherry on top.

  “Hi. I…I think…you’re the attorney handling my uncle’s estate? Charlie Willis.” That was good. I didn't fumble that too much.

  His gaze narrowed and I watched the lightning quick analysis going on behind his dark eyes with helpless fascination. “Yes, and you’re my ten o’clock meeting tomorrow.”

  Nodding, I stared at the way his dark hair curved to cover half of his forehead, inspected the sharp lines of his face and hard jaw until my attention rested on his full lips. They looked hard, but firm, as I imagined his kisses would be, aggressive, urgent, dominating to the senses.

  Wow. My mind went right to the gutter, but what woman could blame me? He'd filled out, matured. Turned out to be… gorgeous. I pulled my hand free and cleared my throat. What was it about hot men in Montana? Was it the water? All the fresh air and sunshine? Hormone-free milk? Turning to face the bar, I took a sip of my drink and tried to recover. “Ten o’clock. Yes. Nice to see you again.”

  Nice? Seeing him again was like a cattle prod to my libido.

  Turning to Declan, I gasped to discover the stool empty. Looking around quickly, I found he’d taken my place at Cara’s table, where he, along with Cara and her husbands raised their glasses in salute, as if giving me permission to flirt with Sam. Alone.