Addison Fox - Special Ops Cowboy

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Death stalks a cowboy's growing familyIt's a typical Texas night when Reese Grantham intends to drown her sorrows in a local bar. Her evening soon turns around, thanks to military operative-cum-rancher Hoyt Reynolds.Before she knows it, Reese is expecting a bundle of joy, but when she enters a killer's crosshairs, there's nothing Hoyt won't do to save her and his child

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“No, ma’am.”

“Ma’am?” The sultry cocoon that had woven around them vanished like disintegrating cotton candy and Reese took several steps back. “Did you just ma’am me?”

“I did.” Hoyt coughed. “Ma’am.”

“That’s the biggest insult I’ve ever—”

Before she could get the rest of it out, all those large muscles she’d so admired went into motion, wrapping her up and pulling her close. His lips hit hers with the same momentum as his hold, and heat and need and a delicious sort of lightness filled her before she realized she was floating in his arms, heading for the bed.

The momentum of his body carried them to the mattress with a heavy thud, his large form taking the brunt of her weight as she fell on top of him in a tangle of limbs.

It was awkward and silly and laughter rumbled in her chest. “Smooth, Reynolds.”

He answered her with a smile of his own, one that lit up his features like the sun clearing the clouds. “I guess I’m just going to have to try harder. Smooth,” he said as if to himself, before eyeing her with a wink. “I need to work on that.”

And, oh, how he worked at it. He lifted his hands to thread through her hair, pulling her close for another kiss. The heat of his body pressed along hers, the delicious warmth of his chest against her breasts sensual and sexy and...right.

So very right.

And as far as smooth went... Hoyt certainly didn’t have to try very hard. Everything about him was smooth. And perfect. And beyond her wildest imaginings.

Yes, she’d found him attractive. She’d be hard pressed to find a woman in the Pass or five surrounding counties who didn’t think any of the Reynolds boys were attractive. It was sort of a rite of passage to get a head nod or hat tip from one of them in town or leaving church or attending the annual summer festivals in the town center.

But to be the recipient of all that sexiness up close?

Wow was the understatement of the century.

No matter how successful he and his siblings became in business, that success was steeped in the fact that they worked their ranch. His body was prime evidence of that fact, the thick ropes of muscles and work-worn hands the proof. Even as she enjoyed the results, Reese knew it was more than just the physical.

He was a quiet man and while he was known for his surliness, she’d seen another side this evening. One that both warmed her and made her feel special. As if he’d pulled out that gentler side of his nature just for her.

Aware her thoughts were veering into sentimental territory, she pushed them all away. Tonight wasn’t about analyzing the softer nature of hardworking cowboys or why said cowboy had decided to favor her with his time. It was about sex and a wonderful, mindless joining with another. She’d do well to remember that.

He momentarily shifted from the bed, reaching for his jeans and a condom stowed in his wallet. That quick slip from the bed went a long way toward reminding her even further of what this was.

Sex.

Clearly, he’d ensured he was prepared should the opportunity come his way and she wasn’t going to get upset about it. Or think too hard about what it meant that she’d not considered protection at all.

For all her internal admonishments to not be affected, something must have shown on her face. His gaze met hers in the dimmed light of her room, a distinct blush creeping up his neck. “I. Um. That’s been in there for a while.”

She offered up a small smile before extending her arms, welcoming him back to bed. “I’m glad, since I hadn’t given protection much thought.”

“You don’t keep anything? In your house?”

“I think I may have something colored and vaguely dirty from a bachelorette party last year buried in the back of the medicine cabinet.”

Hoyt resettled himself over her, holding his weight up on his forearms. “Dirty, you say?”

“Very.”

“Since my wallet stash extends to one, perhaps we can go hunting in the back of your medicine cabinet later.”

The indication he didn’t have a stack of condoms waiting to be used on his person went the rest of the way toward defusing the situation and Reese deftly ignored the subtle sense of relief. Maybe he didn’t do this every week. Or maybe even every month. And maybe she wasn’t just a notch on his belt.

And maybe you need to stop thinking, Grantham, and get back to feeling.

Desperate for those gloriously mindless moments in his arms, Reese reached for the condom in Hoyt’s hand and did the work of sheathing him herself. In moments, he was repositioned above her, fitted intimately inside of her.

It had been a while since she’d felt that delicious stretch of warm welcome, and she took him in, the thoughts that had dogged her fading as he began to move. And as pleasure once again took the place of thoughts or words, Reese gave herself up to the moment.

And the mindless oblivion of making love with Hoyt Reynolds.

The small, quiet neighborhood had settled down for the evening, the good citizens of Midnight Pass nestled snug in their beds. Normally, the small split-level with the neatly mowed lawn that sat toward the end of the lane housed the same. Front room lights that went on precisely each evening at eight o’clock and then snapped off promptly at eleven o’clock. A porch light that burned most evenings, whether the owner was home or not. And a driveway that remained persistently empty of guests.

Only not tonight.

The woman sat in her car, taking in the altered landscape and wondering what had finally made Reese Grantham snap out of that Prissy-Missy attitude and drag herself home a hot cowboy. If she didn’t hate Reese so badly—or bear such a deep-seated grudge and anger—she might have actually cheered for the woman.

About damn time Prissy Missy got some.

The stick that sat perpetually lodged in her ass must get awfully uncomfortable.

But that large truck tucked up in the small driveway proved everyone had urges and needed to let ’em out for a walk every now and again.

The real question, the woman thought, was how she could use this to her advantage. It would be easy to whisper a few words in some well-placed PTA members’ ears. Or drop a few hints down at the general store about what she’d seen.

But that would be easy. Crass, really. Besides, this game had gone on far too long to fold with such an easy hand.

Gossips got discovered. And someone always remembered where they heard something first.

As she pulled away from the curb and took one last pass in front of the house, that porch light still flaring bright this late at night, the woman knew what she needed to do.

Bide her time.

She’d waited this long, what was a bit more? The right moment would show itself. And when it did, she’d strike.

Swift. Immediate. And utterly remorseless.

* * *

Reese talked too much.

That was the first thought that drifted through his mind as Hoyt lay there, early morning summer sun beating over his eyelids. The second thought was that he couldn’t seem to find the energy to mind. In fact, he thought, with no small shot of surprise, he sort of liked it.

Her voice was slightly husky—like just after she’d done that shot of whiskey—and drifted over him with a light, sultry drawl.

“Just in case you’re concerned I have a big mouth, I won’t say anything to anyone.”

“I didn’t think that.”

“Good, because I’m not like that.”

Hoyt often considered himself more perceptive than he usually let on—subtext wasn’t nearly as hard to read as others often made it out to be—but he’d have had to have been deaf to miss what lay beneath Reese’s words. Rolling to his side, he took in the flushed face and still-sleepy eyes. “I’m not worried about anyone finding out anything.”

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