Texas Twist (Texas Montgomery Mavericks) Read online

  “I’ve got them. Leo said to put him upstairs for tonight. Once we clear out the customers, Donald and I can take care of him.”

  Whatever Sally was going to say was drowned out by a long gong from the bar. “Last call,” Donald shouted. “Closing in ten minutes.”

  “Guess I’d better make one last round.” Sally made her way from table to table, closing bar tabs or delivering one last drink.

  Paige picked up five empty beer bottles from Cash’s table and headed back to the bar, pausing to dump them in the trash on her way.

  The room’s dim lighting encouraged the bar patrons to hang around and keep drinking. However, as soon as Paige flicked on the overhead lights, customers collected their personal belongings and made for the exit.

  Sally and Donald began setting the chairs upside down on the tables to clear the floor for mopping. Paige cleared the cash register and took the cash into Leo’s office to secure tonight’s receipts in his safe.

  When she reentered the bar, Cash was snoring, Sally was running a mop around the floor and Donald was loading the last tray of glasses into the washer.

  “About done?” Paige asked.

  “I am,” Sally said, taking a final swipe with the mop. After returning it to the janitor closet, she yawned and stretched. “I’m sleeping ’til noon tomorrow. I’m out of here.”

  “Hold on,” Donald said, tucking a Smith and Wesson forty-five into his pocket. “I’ll walk you out.”

  They headed out and Paige made her way over to Cash’s table. She’d been fourteen when she’d first watched him ride a bull and sixteen before she’d gotten the nerve to talk to him. At eighteen, she’d taken him to her bed. Seven years had passed since that night. Looking at him tonight, those must have been seven long and hard years.

  He looked tired and damaged. And hell, maybe more than a little dangerous to her heart. His face was grooved with wrinkles, far too many for a man of twenty-nine.

  She rolled her fingers into her palm to keep from brushing his blond hair off his forehead. He needed a haircut, but then he probably needed a lot of things she couldn’t provide.

  “Ready to get our guest in bed?” Donald said as he reentered the bar.

  When she nodded, he locked the front door and headed to the booth.

  “What do I need to do?” she asked.

  “Get his hat. I’ve got him.” He grabbed Cash’s arm and threw him over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry. “And get the door.”

  Paige retrieved Cash’s Stetson and hurried to the back exit. She followed the huge man through the door and locked it behind them. Donald climbed the back steps to a small efficiency apartment. He dropped Cash on the twin bed.

  “That it? If so, I’m heading home.”

  “Thanks, Donald. Goodnight.”

  He closed the door as he exited, leaving her and her emotions in turmoil.

  She glanced down. Strands of wavy hair flopped over Cash’s brow. With no one to remind her she was supposed to hate him, she brushed them back, studying the man she’d known so long ago.

  In his alcohol-induced sleep, the creases in his brow didn’t seem so deep now. The etched furrows on either side of his lips eased into soft lines. But the dark circles under his eyes remained. Black and foreboding.

  She pulled his dirty boots off and set them on the floor. She unbuckled the massive silver belt buckle and left his belt hanging free.

  “You’re a son of a bitch, Cash Montgomery,” she whispered. “You destroyed my dreams the way Bad Bob destroyed yours. But seeing you like this kills me. I hope you can find the way back so I can kick your ass without feeling guilty.”

  Then she leaned over and kissed his lips.

  The woman’s lips wrapped snugly around his rock-hard cock. He groaned and ground his head into his pillow. Her long auburn hair tickled where it flared over his thighs. He jerked his hips up and…

  A sudden blast of cold water hit him in the face.

  He jackknifed to sitting, sputtering and spitting water. His heart rate jacked up into a full-out gallop.

  “What the fuck?” he yelled.

  His brothers, Travis and Jason Montgomery, and his brother-in-law and business partner, Mitch Landry, stood at the foot of his bed. He glanced around an unfamiliar room.

  “Where the fuck am I?” He shook the cold water from his dripping hair. “Where’s the woman?” His eyes squinted in a harsh glare. “And why the fuck are you here?”

  Travis, the oldest, lifted an eyebrow. “Not sure if the order will match the questions but you’re in Leo’s drunk room. Don’t know nothin’ about a woman. And we’re here to drag your ass home.”

  Cash shoved the wet hair off his face. “There was a woman. I remember her. Tall. Built like a brick outhouse. Red hair.”

  The three men exchanged glances before Jason said, “No woman, man. Just you with your hand wrapped around your cock.”

  “Fuck you,” Cash snarled. “Get the—”

  He never finished. The sour taste of bile rose in the back of his throat. He swallowed, which did nothing for the nausea now sweeping through him. He slammed his hand over his mouth.

  “Bathroom,” he said through his fingers.

  Travis pointed to the left over Cash’s shoulder. Staggering from the bed, he just made it to the toilet before leaving the entire contents of his stomach in the bowl. He slid to the cold tile floor and rested his face on the chilly porcelain edge of the tub. His oldest brother’s dusty boots came into view.

  “Get out,” Cash groaned. “Leave me alone.”

  Travis leaned over, extending a hand. “Let me help you. I’ve been here.”

  Cash slapped the hand away. “Get out,” he shouted and then winced at the pain his voice inflicted on his brain.

  “Fine, we’ll go, but it’s been six months, Cash. It’s time.”

  Cash threw a pointed glare in Travis’s direction.

  “We’re leaving, but you need to get up and go home. Leo wants his drunk room back.”

  “What time is it?” Cash choked out.

  Travis turned back to him. “After noon.”

  “Bar’s open?”

  “Not for you,” Travis said.

  “The parents are expecting you at home today,” Jason said from behind Travis. “I don’t know that I’d want you in my house. You’ve drunk yourself from Nevada to Texas. You smell like an outhouse and look even worse.”

  “And fuck you too,” Cash replied.

  “Enough, Jason,” Travis said, pushing his brother back into the small apartment. He squatted next to Cash. “I’m here when you need me. Just call.”

  “Unless you give a better blow job than that redhead, I won’t be needin’ nothin’ from you.”

  “See you soon,” Travis said with a smile, which just pissed Cash off even more.

  “No, you won’t,” he shouted at the three men’s backs as they walked away.

  As soon as the door closed, Cash slid the rest of the way to the floor and curled into a ball. He didn’t need his brothers or anybody. He was just fine.

  Chapter Two

  Paige stretched her arms over her head and then snuggled back into the thousand-thread-count sheets. Leaving this plush mattress behind when she moved out of Uncle James’s house was going to be hard. As soon as her budget could swing it, buying a gel-foam mattress would shoot to the top of her must-have list.

  Rolling onto her side, she slid her hand under her face and thought about seeing Cash Montgomery in Leo’s last night. Would he remember her? Recognize her? It’d been a long time and she’d changed a lot from her teen years.

  Seeing him in his boozed-out condition last night was the last thing she’d ever expected. He’d been king of his world. To see how far he’d let himself fall had almost made her physically ill.

  She had a lot to get d
one today and solving the mess Cash had made out of his life wasn’t on her must-do list. She swung her legs off the comfortable mattress and climbed out of bed.

  After stripping and replacing the sheets on the massive king-sized bed, she finished packing the rest of her belongings, not that she had that much to pack. Living on the road with her parents in an RV for all of her life while traveling from town to town on the professional rodeo circuit had taught her exactly what was necessary versus what was a luxury.

  She loaded the final few boxes, put her new kitten in the pet carrier and headed over to Angus Fitzgerald’s house to see exactly what needed to be done to make it livable. Caroline Graham had warned her that no one had lived there since her great-uncle had died so the place would need a good cleaning.

  The front door key was exactly where Caroline had said it would be, over the top of the door frame. Paige let herself in and looked around.

  “Well, Ruby, we have a job ahead of us.” She lowered her pet to the dusty hardwood floor. “Your assignment is mouse patrol,” she said to her almost-six-month-old kitten. “Kill, but do not eat.”

  Ruby answered with a mrrreeow and headed toward the back of the house to explore.

  Paige propped her hands on her hips and sneezed before letting out a long sigh. Where to begin? Dust covered every square inch of every exposed surface. Maybe Ruby had the right idea. Exploration first.

  The front door admitted visitors into a well-used living room with a leather sofa, a couple of recliners, a scattering of tables and a fireplace that looked as though it’d hosted many fires over the years. To the right was an open door that led to a well-used office and library.

  She walked farther into the living room and took a hall off to her right, which led to a small, antiquated bathroom and large bedroom. The bedroom contained a double bed, bedside tables and a dresser. All of the furniture looked antique and she suspected they’d been quality pieces when they were purchased. A dining room, old kitchen with washer and dryer and a small bedroom and bathroom with a sink and old toilet made up the remainder of the first floor. The upstairs had three unfurnished bedrooms, a sitting area and one very out-of-date bathroom.

  After her quick tour, she collected Ruby and headed back to her car. This job required a powerful vacuum, which she hadn’t found during her house tour, and cleaning supplies that could cut through months of built-up grime.

  Two hours later, and hundreds of dollars poorer, Paige and Ruby tackled their individual assignments. Paige had her questions about Ruby’s work ethics as her cat perched upon the sofa and seemed content to watch Paige clean.

  Firing up the vacuum first, Paige figured she would suck up as much dirt and dust as possible before she tackled the tables, floors and walls with cleaning cloths. For the next six hours, she vacuumed, swept, washed and polished. She loaded sheets and towels into and out of the washer and dryer. Warm sheets from the dryer went directly onto the bed in the front bedroom while freshly laundered towels found new homes in the linen closet and towel racks in the bath.

  At about seven p.m., she collapsed on the sofa with a loud exhale. She had put a dent into the necessary work required to get the house back into a livable condition. Many more hours of housework were needed, but today had been a step in the right direction. Independence. Reliance on herself. The start of a new job.

  “Not perfect and not finished, but a good start, don’t you think, Ruby?”

  Ruby lifted her rear leg and began grooming.

  “Thanks for your support.”

  A buzzing from her purse drew her attention and she leaned over the sofa arm to pull her phone out. Four missed calls. Three from her brother and one from Caroline Graham. She listened to the message from Dr. Graham, who just wanted to make sure Paige had gotten in without a problem. Her brother wanted her to call as soon as she got the message. She did.

  The phone rang three times before a female said, “Leo’s.”

  Thunderous country music blasted Paige’s eardrums. “This is Paige Ryan. Who is this?”

  “It’s Mae. Leo’s got his hands full. Said if this was you, for you to hold on for him.”

  “Thanks, Mae.”

  Paige heard a loud clunk when Mae set the phone receiver on the counter. While she waited for Leo, rowdy laughter and singing resounded through to her end. Sounded like a Thursday night crowd ready to get their weekends started. In a minute, the clatter of someone picking up the phone dimmed the noise.

  “Paige?”

  “Yeah. It’s me. What do you need, Leo?”

  “Help. The place is packed. Can you lend a hand for a few hours? One of my waitresses called in sick.” When she hesitated, he added, “You don’t have to close. Just come and help at the bar.”

  Her leg and back muscles knotted up at the thought of standing for three or four hours, but Leo had always been there for her, even when he didn’t know it.

  On the worst day of her life, the day they’d buried their parents, Leo had been the one who’d held her, cried with her and made her feel not so alone in the world.

  On the second worst day of her life, he’d been the one to suggest she leave the rodeo road and go to college. He had no idea that he’d probably saved her sanity.

  “Give me an hour and I’ll come.”

  “Thanks, sis.” He hung up before she could say anything.

  Slowly, Cash opened his eyes. A Mack truck revved its engine in his head. He smacked his lips. Tasted like someone had put dog crap in his mouth while he slept…not that he really knew what that tasted like. When he tried to sit up, he found himself wedged between the toilet and bathtub. Wiggling moved his body enough to sit up, but both actions made the grinding noise in his head increase tenfold.

  He dropped his head into his hands. His rancid breath collected in his lap and made him wince at the foul odor. Truly disgusting. Using the tub for leverage, he pushed himself to standing, weaving a little in the process. His damaged leg muscles spasmed and threatened to drop him back on his ass. After standing for a couple of minutes, he could put one foot in front of the other.

  The progress back to the tiny bed was slow and painful, each step jarring both muscles and brain. How long had he been asleep? A quick glance out a small window showed the sun low in the sky with only its upper quadrant showing. What time was it? Five? Six? Seven? It could later for all he knew. The sun didn’t set in Texas in April until after eight.

  He lowered himself to the edge of the bed, supporting his head in the palms of his hands. Hell. It didn’t matter what time it was. His life was over.

  At twenty-nine.

  Totally over.

  It wasn’t fair. Anger flared inside. His life sucked. He could only hope he’d die young and get it over with.

  His gaze ran over his boots. Who had removed them? He sure hadn’t. Squeezing his eyes together to help him think—and block any amount of light from his aching eyeballs—he would swear there’d been a woman. Very pretty. Tall. There was something about her that seemed familiar. What was it? He pushed his brain for more information but he might as well have been trying to save water in a sieve.

  After shoving his feet into his boots, he headed to the bar to retrieve his keys.

  Driving to a house he hadn’t considered home since he’d been eighteen confirmed his total failure at life. What man his age still lived in his old bedroom in his parents’ house?

  Damn it. He didn’t have anywhere else to go. He’d sold the motorhome he’d used to travel from rodeo to rodeo, not that it’d been much to brag about. Fifteen years old, rust encrusted and belching smoke, but it’d been his. It’d held everything he’d needed so he’d never bothered with a house or condo. He hadn’t needed nor wanted the hassle of permanent roots. Big mistake. Now he had nothing and no place to call his own.

  Until this very minute, it’d never bothered him that much. He’d figured he al
ways had time set up housekeeping, once he decided where he wanted to live and with whom.

  Now he wished he’d invested in a small condo. At least he could go to a place he called his own rather than to the bedroom of his childhood.

  He pounded the steering wheel with his fist. What a loser. Wouldn’t the other guys riding the circuit give him hell for going home to Mommy and Daddy?

  To delay facing the reality of just how crappy his life had turned out, he took the long way to Bar M Ranch, circling by the Kickin’ Bull Ranch, home to his sister, Olivia, her two children and her husband, Mitch Landry. Hell, he hadn’t even seen his new niece. What was she? A month old? Six weeks?

  A loser, a bad uncle and a useless brother.

  He turned into the Kickin’ Bull Ranch drive and stopped. A female Brahma cow munched the new grass as her bull baby eyed him. He’d have sworn the little bastard sneered at him. When momma raised her head and eyeballed him too, a cold sweat broke out on his neck and trickled down his back. He tightened his fingers on the truck’s steering wheel until his arms shook as if he were sitting on the San Andreas Fault during a level nine earthquake.

  The Brahma momma tossed her head and let out a loud, deep bellow. Cash’s heart jumped. His cold sweat became a cold flood as he shivered at the sound.

  When he was capable of wrestling control of his body back from the anxiety racing through him, he slammed the truck in reverse and whipped back on the road, flying past the bellowing cow and her satanic bull baby. He didn’t slow down until he reached the turn in for Bar M, his parents’ ranch. He slowed, even turned on the left signal light, but it was as if the wheel was locked. It simply wouldn’t turn into their drive. Then, as if possessed by independent thought, his right foot pressed hard on the accelerator and he roared past. He whipped onto the cut-off that would turn him around and head him back to Leo’s bar.

  One drink, he told himself. Just one before I have to see the disappointment on my parents’ faces.

  He wheeled into Leo’s lot and had to circle a number of times before he could find a place to park. Weekends around here started on Thursday night, not that the Thursday partiers didn’t have to work on Friday. They did. They simply wanted to get a jump on the weekend fun.