Bridgewater County Series Boxed Set: Books 1-6

Chapter 3-2

Sam narrowed his eyes. “Why would she need a fling? What’s wrong with her? If she’s as hot as you claim, she should have men lined up wherever she’s from.”

“New York. And nothing’s wrong with her.” She was one perfect little package with curves I itched to hold again. “She's just got a type-A personality focused solely on the corner office. Uptight. Conservative. A lawyer, just like you.”

“Ah, one of those.” Sam had walked away from a big-time partnership in San Francisco, very similar to the one Catherine so desperately wanted, for the slower paced life in Montana. No more eighty-hour work weeks for him with his private practice.

“She's wound up tight. Real tight.” I steepled my fingers. “From the IM conversation, I'd say she hasn't gotten any in awhile. If we got our hands on her, she'd probably go off like a rocket.”

“We?”

“Yes, we,” I countered. “She's not Samantha and I'm not eighteen anymore. I know what I want now.”

Sam stiffened. We didn't talk about what happened all those years ago. It was a sore subject. f**k, it was a huge f*****g elephant in the room and it never went away.

“She wasn't the one for us,” I added, referring to Samantha. “We weren't the men for her. She's married to the MacPhersons. Happy.”

The town of Bridgewater, Montana was founded on the principals of plural marriage. Two or more men for one woman. Back in the 1880's, when our great-great-great grandfather came to the United States from England, he—along with a few fellow soldiers—established Bridgewater as a safe refuge. They believed in the custom that two men should protect and love a wife. Together.

I didn't know the full story, but they'd served in the small, now extinct country of Mohamir that followed this custom; men who believed in sharing a woman. Protecting her, cherishing her and loving her in a way that kept her from ever being alone was their sole purpose. If one husband died, she had another to take care of her and any children. While it seemed to many outsiders to be chauvinistic, the lifestyle was designed with the woman in mind, with the woman the center of every family. Those original tenets set by our ancestors still held today. While not everyone in Bridgewater married this way, it was commonplace and understood. Sam and I, we'd grown up with it—we each had one mother and two dads—and wanted that kind of marriage for ourselves.

Sam dropped his feet to the floor with a thud and leaned on his desk. “Jack—”

“We're grown men. Let's stop acting like p*****s about this. It's not about Samantha Connor any more. We were too young. Hell, I was eighteen and shaved once a week.”

I ran my hand over my jaw, which was covered in a heavy five o'clock shadow. “What did I know about having a wife?”

“You're ready for one now?” he eyed me closely.

“I know you left because of the fallout with Samantha and I know why you finally came back—to find The One. It's time we found our bride.”

He could have found a woman in San Francisco and settled down, married her. But he hadn't. He wanted a Bridgewater marriage. He just hadn't been ready before. Now, he was ready. We just hadn't found the right woman.

“And you think this woman on the plane is her?”

“f**k, yeah. As soon as she straddled my lap on the plane, I knew then she was going to be in my bed. More.”

His eyes widened. “Do I want to know why she was straddling your lap on a f*****g commuter plane?”

I couldn't help but grin, reliving the sight of Catherine's stunned—yet heated—look. I'd had my hands on her, saw the flare of attraction and desire in her eyes. I wanted her again, on my lap was just fine, but without any clothes between us. I wanted to be able to see what color her n*****s were, feel the weight of her breasts in my palms, watch them bounce as she took me for a ride, my c**k buried deep in her sweet p***y. s**t.

I would have her. I knew it the moment I sat down beside her and picked up her clean citrus scent. When her pale eyes met mine, I saw the desire there. I'd felt sucker punched. Lightning strike. Name the cliché. I hadn't wanted a girl this badly since I was a scrawny twelve-year-old. And that hadn’t worked out so well. But Catherine was a full-grown woman with perfect breasts and rounded hips. She was a little thing, but she was all woman. Soft. Curved. Aroused. Oh, hell yeah. I’d seen that look in a woman’s eyes before. She’d been just as hot for me as I’d been for her. But she’d panicked and shut me down.

I didn’t know her last name. Hell, I didn’t know much. But Bridgewater County was a tight community and she was coming here. I was sure I could find her.

I adjusted my c**k. Again. Having a semi for the past four hours made it uncomfortable to sit, but thinking about how she could've gotten herself off just riding my thighs on the plane wasn't helping.

“That makes it even worse. We f**k her, she gets the one night stand that she wants, then goes back to New York,” Sam countered. “The conversation with her friend only proves that she's not going to stay.”

“s**t, man. You need to chill,” I told him, shaking my head. I told him a thousand times to loosen up and the women would flock to him. Seemed he was even more uptight than the woman on the plane. I kept hoping one would come along and inspire him to unleash the fighter I knew lurked within. No such luck yet.

He gave me the finger. “You want me to f**k a woman I barely know and walk away? That's not how the Bridgewater way works, jackass. I want a woman between us that we're going to keep. Not f**k and wave farewell.”

“Start by helping me find her. Talk to her. I'll bet you fifty bucks you’ll take one look and be hard as a f*****g rock.”

He waved his hand toward the door. “I’ll think about it. Now, get the f**k out of my office.”

“There's only one problem.” I didn't get up as he wanted.

Sam gave me an impatient look, waiting.

“Based on that IM alone, she's on the prowl. That means she might choose to f**k some random asshole just to get her jollies. If she wants hot monkey s*x—” I held up my hand at Sam’s raised brow. “—Her friend's words, not mine, we just need to ensure we're the men—the only men—to give it to her.”

Sam sighed, ran a hand over the back of his neck. He wasn’t just two years older, he was bigger than me. Taller and broader, he’d played football in high school and college. He'd wanted off the ranch all his life and I was just thankful he'd returned to Bridgewater to settle. Besides the whole Samantha fiasco, we'd been burned by women who either wanted us for our money—the ranch wasn't small and Sam did extremely well as a lawyer—or, for one night, interested in being in the center of a Kane cousin sandwich.

But I had a feeling about Catherine, a feeling she would love being taken by two men, love being touched and f****d and kissed by both of us. But convincing the uptight, New York attorney of that? s**t. That was probably going to be more difficult than I wanted to believe, and I would absolutely need Sam’s help. He was the dark, brooding, intense one. I had a feeling Catherine would go for the quiet reserve my cousin offered before she would take a chance on a player like me.

Sam set the softball back on his desk and frowned. “Fine. I'll help you find Airplane Girl. But right now, I have work to do. Are we finished?”

I knew when to stop pushing. Until he met Catherine, I wouldn't be able to convince him. She'd be the one to do that.

I stood to leave and gave him a wave as I walked toward the door. “I know, I know, get the hell out.”

Now I just had to find Catherine and figure out a way to introduce her to Sam. One look, and I was confident he wouldn't be able to walk away from her. No f*****g way. Getting Catherine into bed with both of us was going to be a bit harder, but neither of us ever backed down from a challenge. And what a hot, enticing challenge she was.