AllFreeNovel
Share Us
More bad news. If I’m not in cuffs, I guess it could be worse.
“Sheri Dixon and June Clancy.”
My stomach drops. Laughter floats out from the kitchen from two different female voices.
Rosie.
She came back?
She came back.
“What did they want?”
He chuckles. “They wanted to tell me that while Sheri Dixon was being held for ransom, she heard her husband’s voice outside the trailer, talking about cattle sales and animal supplements.”
Rosie’s copper-red locks come into full view. My lips part as she turns, and I see her stunning profile. My eyes laser in on her lips, plump and tempting.
“She also asked me to represent her in her divorce case,” Warner continues.
“So, it’s locked down then?”
Rosie turns at the sound of my voice. We both still. Her eyes dip over me briefly, flashing with some emotion I want to believe is desire before she turns away.
“Oh, yeah, that fucker is going down. He’s done for.”
“That’s good,” I say.
“Yep. I’ll keep you posted.”
“Thanks.” I hang up the phone.
Dolly is merrily stirring a pot on the stove. She grins at me. “Well, hello. Are you the only hungry one?”
I observe my sister coolly. “Guess so.”
My pulse is skyrocketing. The surprise appearance of Rosie at the ranch after the last time I saw her, face down while being arrested, is unnerving.
I’m mad at her. I’m not as mad as I should be because all I can think about is kissing her … then spreading her legs open and tying her to my bedposts.
I want to tie her up.
I blame it on my ranch-life upbringing with frequent workdays spent tying calves down for branding and cutting. I used to practice knots with rope in the barn when I was bored, and I’ve gotten really good at it.
Those knots would look even better around her wrists or ankles.
Except you fucked it up.
Rosie refuses to look at me as she busies herself around the kitchen, setting bowls and spoons out before washing a dish left in the sink. I take a seat at the island on one of the new barstools Dolly ordered after Duke smashed two of them.
My sister smiles widely at me again, almost freakishly so. “We made your favorite. Venison chili!”
What is she so excited about?
“Smells good,” is all I offer.
My eyes roam over Rosie, the soft curve of her backside as she turns away to dry her hands. She’s wearing a perfectly fitted pair of Levi jeans and a sage-green sweater that hugs her chest. My mouth waters at the tiny dip of her cleavage.
She made her choice.
