severed his control. After jerking the tractor to a stop, he set the brake and leapt the six feet to the ground. His boots sank deep, and he yanked them free, striding back to the discs.
“Son of a bitchin’ thing, stop squeaking!” He kicked a few circles of steel, careful not to cut up his boot. One circle of metal wobbled more than the others on that side, and he kicked it again.
For a long minute, he stared at the dirty, rusted plate of metal. He could do jack shit about it out here. He needed a wrench, bolts—hell, he might need a welder. His only course was to get back on the tractor and continue to drag the squeaky disc around the field.
As he climbed back up onto the tractor seat, he drew a deep breath.
What had they done? Passing Laurel back and forth between them couldn’t be a good thing for anyone. Especially Laurel. She couldn’t possibly make a choice, could she? And if so, based on what? The length of their cocks—how good they were in bed?
He snorted. He was pretty damn confident in his abilities in that department. His cock twitched at the memory of having her beneath him, of filling her hot sheath with his cock and gliding over her silken walls.
Groaning, he fixed his gaze ahead. The front door of the Ransom house opened and two figures trickled out. Jens in his cowboy hat and with a swagger Holden spotted even from this distance. And Laurel right behind him.
Their bodies stretched apart, held together by a thin connection between their hands. Their arms extended. Then Jens released her and blew her a kiss.
“Motherfucker.” It was the only word Holden hadn’t used yet, and he couldn’t think of why not.
He jammed a boot on the gas pedal and sped up, bouncing across the field, the discs deafening behind him. Jens vanished around the house, and a second later reappeared on horseback, his hat tilted at a jauntier angle than usual.
Holden bit the inside of his cheek, fighting to hold back a roar. Damn the man!
Jens pointed the bareback horse, Stargazer, across the field and straight toward Holden. The chestnut flanks of the beast rolled and bunched as Jens pushed him.
Within seconds, horse and rider drew to a stop twenty yards from the tractor. Jens tipped his hat.
Red spots flashed before Holden’s eyes. “You son of a—!” He threw himself off the tractor and raced across the dug-up earth. The horse danced sideways as Holden reached up, snagged Jens by the shirt front and dragged him off.
Jens flexed his arm and tried to shake Holden loose. “What the hell’s the matter with you?”
“You spent the night with my girl, that’s what!”
“My girl too! We made a deal, remember? Or did you think that by taking her to bed that you won? She’s far from making a decision, and I intend to get my fair chance.” Jens’s gaze burned into his.
Every muscle in Holden’s body quivered to beat the living hell out of his best friend—the guy who’d seen him through the soul-wrenching death of his father a few years ago, who had hauled his sorry ass to the hospital when he’d been kicked in the leg by a cow.
He’s the guy who just spent the night making love to Laurel .
With a roar, he hurled himself at Jens.
Jens sidestepped, and Holden tripped.
At that moment, the howl of the discs sounded.
Jens’s eyes widened. Whipping around, Holden saw the tractor rolling forward, with no one at the wheel.
“Jesus, didn’t you set the brake?” Jens took off at a dead run, heels kicking up clumps of mud. Holden darted behind him, squinting to avoid the loose dirt thrown up by Jens’s boots.
Wildly, he tried to think. Had he set the brake? All he could recall was a haze of red and a bull’s eye drawn around his friend.
Jens reached the tractor. The tire rolled on by him, as tall as he was.
“Shit! It’s heading toward the house!”
At that moment, Laurel’s scream echoed across the field. Heart pounding, Holden glanced up in time to see her sprinting toward them.
Jens spotted
“Son of a bitchin’ thing, stop squeaking!” He kicked a few circles of steel, careful not to cut up his boot. One circle of metal wobbled more than the others on that side, and he kicked it again.
For a long minute, he stared at the dirty, rusted plate of metal. He could do jack shit about it out here. He needed a wrench, bolts—hell, he might need a welder. His only course was to get back on the tractor and continue to drag the squeaky disc around the field.
As he climbed back up onto the tractor seat, he drew a deep breath.
What had they done? Passing Laurel back and forth between them couldn’t be a good thing for anyone. Especially Laurel. She couldn’t possibly make a choice, could she? And if so, based on what? The length of their cocks—how good they were in bed?
He snorted. He was pretty damn confident in his abilities in that department. His cock twitched at the memory of having her beneath him, of filling her hot sheath with his cock and gliding over her silken walls.
Groaning, he fixed his gaze ahead. The front door of the Ransom house opened and two figures trickled out. Jens in his cowboy hat and with a swagger Holden spotted even from this distance. And Laurel right behind him.
Their bodies stretched apart, held together by a thin connection between their hands. Their arms extended. Then Jens released her and blew her a kiss.
“Motherfucker.” It was the only word Holden hadn’t used yet, and he couldn’t think of why not.
He jammed a boot on the gas pedal and sped up, bouncing across the field, the discs deafening behind him. Jens vanished around the house, and a second later reappeared on horseback, his hat tilted at a jauntier angle than usual.
Holden bit the inside of his cheek, fighting to hold back a roar. Damn the man!
Jens pointed the bareback horse, Stargazer, across the field and straight toward Holden. The chestnut flanks of the beast rolled and bunched as Jens pushed him.
Within seconds, horse and rider drew to a stop twenty yards from the tractor. Jens tipped his hat.
Red spots flashed before Holden’s eyes. “You son of a—!” He threw himself off the tractor and raced across the dug-up earth. The horse danced sideways as Holden reached up, snagged Jens by the shirt front and dragged him off.
Jens flexed his arm and tried to shake Holden loose. “What the hell’s the matter with you?”
“You spent the night with my girl, that’s what!”
“My girl too! We made a deal, remember? Or did you think that by taking her to bed that you won? She’s far from making a decision, and I intend to get my fair chance.” Jens’s gaze burned into his.
Every muscle in Holden’s body quivered to beat the living hell out of his best friend—the guy who’d seen him through the soul-wrenching death of his father a few years ago, who had hauled his sorry ass to the hospital when he’d been kicked in the leg by a cow.
He’s the guy who just spent the night making love to Laurel .
With a roar, he hurled himself at Jens.
Jens sidestepped, and Holden tripped.
At that moment, the howl of the discs sounded.
Jens’s eyes widened. Whipping around, Holden saw the tractor rolling forward, with no one at the wheel.
“Jesus, didn’t you set the brake?” Jens took off at a dead run, heels kicking up clumps of mud. Holden darted behind him, squinting to avoid the loose dirt thrown up by Jens’s boots.
Wildly, he tried to think. Had he set the brake? All he could recall was a haze of red and a bull’s eye drawn around his friend.
Jens reached the tractor. The tire rolled on by him, as tall as he was.
“Shit! It’s heading toward the house!”
At that moment, Laurel’s scream echoed across the field. Heart pounding, Holden glanced up in time to see her sprinting toward them.
Jens spotted
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