Page 5 of Rough Ride

“Stay?”

She glanced up. “When mom got sick, she came.”

“Oh.” He said it as if he didn’t understand. He might not. She didn’t know much about Joe’s partner, but Joe had said he didn’t have any extended family. To a woman who grew up with a large family—not to mention the military family for backup—it was a foreign concept.

“Would you like some salad?” she asked.

“No. I need to get out and check on a few things. You be sure to let me know if you need anything.”

The way he said it made her think it was a double entendre. His expression gave nothing away and Crysta figured the jet lag was starting to get to her.

“Thanks,” she said.

He picked up his cowboy hat and left without another word. The long, slow walk was so stereotypical of a cowboy, she wanted to laugh, but she didn’t. He was dressed in jeans, and she couldn’t help but admire the way they cupped his ass so wonderfully. Did he wear leather? God, he would be gorgeous in leather pants. She could just imagine seeing those long strong fingers wrapped around the end of a crop.

The screen door slammed, breaking her daydream. She shivered and tried to get that image out of her mind. It wouldn’t be smart to get all googly-eyed over a man like that. Besides, he had been like a son to her uncle. He’d always said that St John and she would get along well. Crysta didn’t know what her uncle had been talking about, but she doubted St John and she had much in common. He was quiet while Crysta, well…wasn’t.

With a sigh, she decided not to worry about it. She was on the Big Island for a short while to honor her uncle and spread her mother’s ashes. Then, she would return to DC and sort out her life.

two

Eli looked over the gathering for the reception and thought Joe would have been pleased with attendance. The fact that it was so sedate might have irked his friend, but the outpouring of admiration would have made him happy. Eli shifted from one foot to the other knowing it would tell people he was uncomfortable, but he didn’t care at the moment. Big family get-togethers were not his thing.

Several folks from the mainland had come, and even Micah Ross had made the hop over from Oahu to pay his respects. Eli knew with the new baby keeping him up at nights, making the trip was probably hard on him. Ross offered him a firm handshake.

“Sorry to hear about Joe.”

“Appreciate you coming,” he said as he took a sip of his beer. One thing he enjoyed about Joe was the things he had insisted on for the service. He’d made it mandatory they have beer.

“No problem. Dee wanted to come, but she’s asleep on her feet so I told her to stay home.”

“Makes sense. How’s the baby?”

“Loud and rude.”

“So, a lot like you?”

“Screw you,” he said with no heat as his gaze moved over the crowd. The BDSM club owner was a former bounty hunter. “Oh, and there’s a package of cinnamon rolls that Cynthia sent over. She said they were your favorite.”

Of course, bakery owner Cynthia knew which ones were his favorites. He had only been in her bakery a couple of times, but leave it to her to remember. All the women in the group were like that. Micah’s wife Dee, then other wives like Cynthia and May, seemed to see him as some kind of project. This was an odd position he was in with the Rough ‘n Ready group. Micah owned the popular BDSM club on Oahu with his friend Evan Chambers. The quasi family he had built with his friends and their extended family was endearing and confusing at the same time. The women now treated him like a big brother and, at one time, he would have been irritated. Now, he was amused most of the time.

For a man who never wanted family ties, Eli was finding himself all but shackled to people in Hawaii.

“You didn’t eat any, did you?” he asked.

Micah gave him a look of mock innocence. “Now why would you say that, my friend?”

Before he could answer, he felt the fine hairs on the back of his neck stir. It wasn’t the type of feeling that warned him of an attack. Worse, it was the type of feeling that warned him of a woman—especially one that stirred his senses. Micah’s attention moved beyond his shoulder and Eli saw his friend offer one of those rare smiles he only gave women.

Without looking, he knew it was Crysta. When she stepped up beside Eli, her scent hit him without warning. Subtle, sweet—but not too sweet, with a hint of musk. The black dress she had donned for the memorial was simple in design but it clung to her curves. There was enough of a hint of cleavage to cause him more than one impure thought during the service. He tightened his hand around the beer bottle.

“Micah, this is Crysta Miller. Crysta, this is Micah Ross.”

Micah shook her hand, holding it a little longer than Eli was comfortable with. “I’m really sorry about your uncle.”

Her eyes softened, then she finally released Micah’s hand. “Thank you.” Then she cocked her head to the side and studied Micah. “Your name sounds familiar, but I don’t think Joe ever mentioned you. You’ve never spent any time in DC, have you?”

Before Micah could answer, Eli said, “He’s married.”

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