Page 32 of Javier

Javier flipped them over and covered Memphis. He pushed her knees apart. “Fortunately for you, my mom raised me to be a gentlemen, and a gentleman aways gives a woman what she needs.”

“I’m in a bad state, sweets. Just take me. Now.”

* * *

With the aid of lanterns, tents were pitched in the meadow on the other side of the ranch’s long winding drive. After he and Memphis cleaned up, she went outside to greet them. She had arranged to have Potsy, the wranglers’ cook, make breakfast for all of them.

“Bring Nana,” she said, acknowledging Daphne as her grandmother. “We’re having breakfast in the meadow.”

Javier slipped on a pair of joggers and checked on Daphne. The door was wide open, the bed made. She was up and at ‘em.

She had done great on the trip, riding in the sidecar attached to Jack’s bike, and enjoyed camping. Javier had gotten her an extra-thick inflatable pad for her comfort. She claimed she had slept like a baby. That said, Memphis insisted Daphne take a bedroom down the hall with a full bath.

The smell of coffee drew Javier to the kitchen, where he grabbed a mug from a cabinet and filled it. He moved to sliding glass doors. What he saw filled him with joy. His mom and the woman he was falling for stood side-by-side, their arms around one another. The two of them were surrounded by family and friends who had made the trip and, from what he could tell, there was a lot of talking and laughter. He slid the door open slightly, enjoying the sounds.I need to grab a shirt and join them.His stomach growled.And eat.

A scream had him spinning.

A skinny blonde gawked at him with a mix of fear and wonder. She found her voice. “Whoare you?” She demanded loudly.

“Javier Cabrera.”

“Why are you in our house and not out with the cowboys?”

“Huh?”

Peals of laughter flowed in through the door opening.

“Omigod! Who are those people?” Her pitch climbed. “Why are there tents on our property?”

“Your property? Who areyou?”

“I’m Arla Rooney. Engaged to Eben Creed, the owner of this ranch.”

“One of them.” Javier needled her.

“He’ll be the sole owner soon. Mark my words.”

Javier chewed on the inside of his lower lip as he considered what she had disclosed with such confidence. Memphis and Ransom’s worst nightmare. He also had an immediate dislike of Arla Rooney, who was now ogling him like a bitch in heat. Did she realize she had also licked her lips? He would have found it amusing if he wasn’t crazy about Memphis and if the guy standing behind her, who he assumed was Memphis’s brother, didn’t look like a black thundercloud ready to erupt.

“Jav!” Memphis bolted through the door and launched herself at him, locking her arms around his neck and her sleek legs around his waist. She peppered him with kisses. “Come eat, sweets.”

“Memphis.”

“Uh-oh.” She released her limbs and stood, turning, leaning against him, facing her brother and future sister-in-law. “Well, good morning. Eben. Arla.”

“Good morning, Memphis, and welcome back. Who is this?” Eben asked, his eyes raking over Javier’s tats.

“Memphis doesn’t need to speak for me, Eben. You can address me directly.”

“Who are you?”

Arla answered. “Javier Ca … Javier something.”

Javier slid his arm across Memphis’s front and clasped her other shoulder, pulling her to him. “Why do they speak for other people, babe?”

“I’m really not sure.”

“Nice, sis.” Eben glared at Memphis and then at him. “Who the hell are you?”

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