Love Under Two Montanans [The Lusty, Texas Collection] by Cara Covington (10 best novels of all time .txt) 📗

“Come on, girlfriend, we’ll sit and let the guys sort things out.” Ari slipped her arm through Jenny’s and led her to the back tables that had the reserved sign on them. There seemed to be a few more chairs set around than usual, so she guessed other members of the family might be joining them, too.

“Do you remember us telling you about Parker and Dale the other day?” Ari leaned in close and lowered her voice to just above a whisper. “They’re the ones who overheard Norah and her fiend—oops, did I say that out loud? I meant friend, of course.”

“Easy mistake to make. There’s only one letter difference between the two words, after all.”

Ari smiled, and Jenny grinned back. Then she sighed. “Yes, I do recall.”

“And I recall how just moments ago, the three of you were in a little mutual bubble of hot-holy-hell, all by yourselves. Why, I could almost hear the angels singing. The chemistry between you was that potent. I swear, steam, among other things, was rising.” Ari winked.

Jenny opened her mouth to protest then snapped it shut again. It would be pretty hard for her to protest when every word Ari had just said was the truth.

“That’s our secret, girlfriend.” Jenny knew she could trust Ari.

“Believe that if you want, girlfriend. The real truth? Y’all were noticed by more people than just me.”

Jenny sighed. “That’s what I was afraid of.”

They’d reached the seats at the back. Ari looked over her shoulder and then turned back around. “You sit right there.”

Jenny was directed toward a chair, the second from the end facing the long bench seat.

“That way, you don’t have to look at the crowd behind you. You’re on your own time, now.” Ari leaned in very close. “And for the record, there’s nothing to be afraid of. The fall is scary, but the landing is heavenly.”

“Sure, it is.” Jenny reminded herself of a myth she’d heard tell of but never experienced until now. Friends, happy in love, didn’t rest until all their single friends were happy in love, too.

Happy in love? That had been something she’d assumed to be sometime in the nebulous future, not in the here and now. She was not in love, happily or otherwise. Oh, no, she was just…Jenny. Jenny had just met two Montana cowboys. Just. Met. Them. They hadn’t even shared a conversation or a tonsil-inspecting kiss. There was no way she could already be in love with…them.

Cord directed Parker and Dale into chairs on either side of her, then tossed her a wink. Looks like I’m suddenly in the future.

There was, as far as she could tell, only one thing she could do. Jenny made certain her butt was nestled snugly in her chair. With her feet firmly on the ground, her chair neatly pulled up to the table, she figured she was as protected as she could possibly be from any unplanned falls—of any kind.

Chapter Three

Douglas Vance had been waiting for this moment ever since he’d heard of his dear great-aunt Amanda’s death. He stepped off the elevator into the law offices of Mathers, Chambers, and Horne, one of the oldest firms in Austin.

He made his way to the conference room, more than a little annoyed at the number of people already sitting around the large table. After the death of his great-uncle, Simon Featherstone, he’d been the last remnant of the Featherstone side of the family. His mother had been the daughter of Simon’s sister. There shouldn’t be anyone else sitting at this table except lawyers and law clerks.

His ire cleared, and he recognized the members of Amanda’s former staff—housekeeper, chauffeur, and gardener. Every time he saw the three of them together, the way both men seemed to be focused on the woman, he wondered. Men were meant to subjugate women, not know-tow to them. The first thing he was going to do when he moved into that big-ass mansion was to fire every single last one of them. He wouldn’t even give them notice. He’d just boot their sorry unnatural asses out the door.

That decision was reinforced when none of them even made an effort to suck up to him. They ignored him as if he was a complete stranger to them. He mentally shrugged off the insult even as it rankled. They’ll all be out of work soon enough. Vance didn’t worry about the weird-looking chick with the spiky reddish hair sitting at the other end of the table. She was likely some sort of law clerk or student because she had a pad of paper in front of her, a pen in her hand, and appeared focused on reading whatever was in the document before her.

Vance picked a chair with easy access to the door—he just needed to know the dollars and cents coming his way, and when he’d get them—and settled in for the reading of his dearly departed kin’s last will and testament.

This was a moment he’d waited for, for years. Anticipation bathed him in a sweeter scent than any cologne could have. He’d filed for bankruptcy on his latest business venture a month before and had practically maxed out all his resources. There weren’t any American banks he could borrow money from at the moment, and so he’d gone to an acquaintance for a personal loan.

Asshole’s a fucking loan shark, not acquaintance. It galled Vance that he had to do business with the likes of Brody Carp, but there it was. Desperate times, and all that shit.

This windfall was coming to him at the best possible moment.

Vance knew his great-aunt Amanda’s estate was worth, at the very least, five million dollars—and likely even a lot more. And if he decided to sell that fucking monstrosity of a mansion, who knows how much he could end up inheriting? He could pay Carp back fifty times over with that amount and still have plenty to spare.

Even after he cleared