TANGLED DREAMS
Even though it was an incredibly busy night at the bar,
even though he could barely hear the newest order over the
din of loud conversation, music, and laughter, he heard
her. Her every thought. Chase watched her, saw that her
mouth wasn’t moving, that she wasn’t actually talking but
he could still listen to her.
She was on the other side of the bar, standing
by a group of Halloween decorations that his sister-in-law
had designed out of a bunch of pumpkins he and his
brothers had carved. The haystack and jack-o’-lanterns
were festive and provided an amusing backdrop to the
serious expression on Allison Barrow’s face. He’d known
her several months now, ever since his brother had married
her best friend and boss, but he’d never before noticed
how cute her round, wire-framed glasses looked on her
small nose or the fact that she had a tendency to
straighten them needlessly.
He noticed now. But why?
His youngest brother, Mack, bumped into
him. “Hey, Chase, orders are piling up here. You want to
stop daydreaming and help me out?”
Chase gave Mack a distracted glance. “Come
here a minute, will you?”
Mack paused. “What?”
“Over here. Come on. Now stop right there.”
Chase positioned him exactly where he’d been standing.
Mack was in his last year of college, still studious and
alert. Surely he’d pick up something. “Now, look over
there at Allison. See her, right past the redhead with
the skinny guy in a suit? By that Halloween display?”
“Yeah, so?”
“What’s she saying?”
Mack turned to stare at Chase in
disbelief. “What’s she saying? How the hell should I
know? I can barely hear you, and you’re only two inches
away from me.”
Frustrated, unable to really explain, Chase
said, “Well, look at her, dammit, and try.”
With a sound of disgust, Mack again stared
toward Allison. Chase saw his gaze warm a little, then go
over her from head to toe, and for some reason, that
annoyed him. Now that he’d really noticed Allison, he
didn’t particularly want Mack doing the same. He’d always
thought Allison was cute, in an understated, sort of just-
there way, but suddenly she looked very sexy to him. She
was twenty-five, on the short side, dark blue eyes, medium
blonde hair. Nothing special. Certainly not the type of
woman to appeal to his baser side. But tonight he
couldn’t pull his attention away from her. He suddenly
heard her every thought when he’d sure as hell never been
a mind reader before. And he only heard Allison, no one
else. There was something going on between them, and it
didn’t make any sense.
“Well?” Chase prompted.
“She looks different, doesn’t she?”
“It’s the clothes,” Chase explained, having
noted the difference himself. It had taken him several
minutes to finally pinpoint what made her looks so unusual
tonight, so…sensual. “She’s wearing some sort of old-
fashioned, vintage dress.”
In truth, she looked like a woman straight out
of film noir. The dress was a deep purple gray, and even
from a distance, Chase could see that the color did things
for her eyes. Or were her eyes just brighter tonight,
more alert?
There was subtle black beading on the top of
the dress that caught the bar lights and drew his
attention repeatedly to her less-than-outstanding bust
line. At least, he’d never thought it outstanding
before. But now…Now he was imagining her naked and almost
going crazy because of it.
The waistline was tight, showing off her trim
build, and when she turned, Chase not only saw that she
had seamed stockings but also that the damn dress had a
flat bustle of sorts, a little layering of soft material
that draped real nice over her pert behind, a behind that
would feel just right against his pelvis if he took her
from the back…
“It looks…I dunno, kind of sexy on her,
doesn’t it?”
“Mack.” Pulled from his erotic thoughts,
Chase said it as a warning, surprising himself and his
brother. His tone had smacked of possessiveness, and he
didn’t like it, but also didn’t like another man, not even
his brother, thinking Allison was sexy. He wasn’t quite
used to himself thinking it yet. “Pay attention.”
“To what? From what I can tell, she’s not
saying anything. She’s just standing there all by
herself, looking sweet. In fact, she looks a little lost.”
Chase rubbed his face. “So you don’t hear
anything?”
With a strange look, Mack asked, “What exactly
am I supposed to be hearing?”
Damn. There was no way Chase could repeat the
thoughts he’d picked up on so clearly. They were fairly…
intimate. Explicit thoughts. Sexual thoughts. About
him. He almost groaned. “Never mind. Forget I said
anything.”
Mack frowned at him. “Hey, you okay?”
“Yeah, fine. Go on before we get mobbed by
disgruntled customers. You take that end of the bar, and
I’ll handle this end.”
With one last curious look at his brother,
Mack sauntered off. The bar, owned by the brothers, was
especially packed tonight. It had gone from being a
popular watering hole to a regular hangout. People not
only drank there, they danced and played billiards and
pinball. Cole, the oldest brother and recently married,
was thinking of expanding into the empty building next
door. He’d discussed his plans with Chase just the other
day, and Chase was all for it, especially if it meant
they’d hire in some help. The bar was plenty prosperous
enough now to support several additional employees, and
with Zane, the third brother, getting his own computer
business off the ground, and Mack finishing up college, it
was certain the two younger brothers would likely work
less at the bar.
Cole had originally bought it to support the
family after their parents had died. He’d worked damned
hard, making ends meet and taking care of three much
younger brothers. Chase, as the second oldest at twenty-
seven, was still nine years younger than Cole, with Zane
twenty-four and Mack just turned twenty-two. Chase had
always tried to help out as much as possible, and he and
Cole were friends, as well as being as close as brothers
could be, but none of them had expected the bar to
eventually be so popular. It had given them a great start
in life and had guaranteed employment for the younger
brothers, but it had served its purpose and it was time to
think of the future.
Their clientele was as much female as
otherwise, being that until Cole’s recent marriage, they’d
all been bachelors - according to the local papers, the
most popular bachelors Thomasville, Kentucky, had to
offer. A lot of women lamented Cole’s altered state,
which sent an over-flow of attention to the remaining
brothers. Chase smiled. He wasn’t all that interested,
being something of a recluse and extremely particular in
his sexual appetites, but Zane and Mack sure appreciated
all the female adoration.
The six to eight o’clock rush was finally
starting to wind down when Chase was hit with another of
Allison’s vivid internal dialogues. He’d been fending off
the stray thoughts, doing his best to ignore them, but
there was no way to keep this one out. A tray in his
hands, a dishrag over his shoulder, he paused on his way
to the sink, like someone had frozen him in mid-step.
Such nice shoulders. So sexy. Probably hard
and smooth to the touch. And hot. They’d move when he
thrust, the muscles shifting…
And then a visual image joined the words, an
erotic picture of him making love to Allison. It was
carnal, sensual, and showed him exactly what she’d look
like naked, laid out beneath him, straining against him
while he drove into her. Her small breasts were flushed,
her pale pink nipples were puckered tight. Her eyes were
closed , her blonde hair fanned out on a pillow, her hands
desperately clutching his shoulders…
The tray almost slipped out of his hands, and
he barely managed to catch it. He shook his head, trying
to clear it, totally overwhelmed by a wave of raging lust
and heated need. He turned to stare at her.
She was looking at him, and as he stared, gaze
intent, her face turned pink and she ducked her head.
Like a sleepwalker, Chase plunked the tray on the bar,
threw the dishrag to the side, and started toward her.
She looked up at him, her eyes now rounding
with alarm, and she took a hasty step back, but the
haystack and pumpkins were there, crowded into the corner,
making it impossible for her to flee. Which was just as
well, because if she’d run, he’d have simply chased her
down. All he could think of was getting his hands on her.
Chase stalked her, keeping her in sight,
stepping around those people loitering or dancing in the
middle of the floor, dodging tables and ignoring
greetings. He didn’t like being played with, and while he
didn’t know how she did it, he knew Allison was in some
way responsible.
He stopped right in front of her and she
looked up at him, one hand pressed wide over her heart as
if to keep it contained in her chest. He started to
question her, but then he noticed her lips, soft, pink,
parted slightly, and he wanted so badly to kiss her he
couldn’t think straight. He could almost taste her on his
tongue, hot and wet and woman sweet. His hands shook -
hell, his whole body shook.
Like a wild animal scenting a female in heat,
it took all his concentration to control his basic urges.
He’d never felt this way before, not even with the most
accommodating women, and they were rare indeed. His
desires were usually specific, a little risqué to the
average woman, something that needed to be catered to in
order to achieve mind-blowing pleasure. He simply didn’t
get overwhelmed with lust at the mere sight of a woman.
Anger washed over him, making him tremble. He
didn’t want to notice her, dammit. She’d never affected
him this way before, so why now? How did she do it? He
stared down at her, at that tempting mouth, and every
muscle in his body tensed. He cursed softly.
Oh, God. Maybe I should have chosen Zane.
He’d have been willing at least, and so much easier. He
wouldn’t question what was happening…
“Like hell!” Chase took her shoulders and
shook her slightly. Through clenched teeth, he
growled, “You’re right, Zach wouldn’t hesitate; he’d
probably already have you in the back room with your
little bustle in the air. But I’m not Zane, and I didn’t
start this, you did.”
She stared at him, her shock apparent, her
face draining of color.
Jealously mad him a little rougher, a little
less discreet than he’d normally be. He took care to keep
his private life private. Not that he was a monk, but he
sure as hell wasn’t the outgoing, obvious ladies’ man that
his younger brother Zane was. His hands tightened on her
narrow shoulders and he leaned low to say, “You can just
get thoughts of Zane right out of your head.”
She blinked up at him, the pulse in her throat
going wild. “What…what are you talking about?”
They were so close, her glasses fogged just a
little, then slipped down the bridge of her nose. Chase
could see the small flecks of gold in her deep blue eyes,
like little explosions of heat. His jaw worked for a
moment, then he said with just a touch more calm, “How
dare you even consider my brother?”
She gasped, putting both her palms on his
chest. The touch burned him, making the lust that much
worse. He wanted to howl. He had never in his adult life
had this happen, had lust rage over him so suddenly, so
uncontrollably. Hell, of the four brothers, he was the
quietest, the most discriminating in outward appearances.
And control, especially with a woman, was something he
insisted on.
She glanced around, her movements nervous,
then whispered in a rush, “Chase, what in the world is
wrong with you?” Her face was flushed, her eyes round,
and she looked embarrassed and alarmed and very worried.
Chase, too, glanced around. Several people
were looking at him, including his damned brothers. They
must have radar, he thought, wondering how all three of
them had known he was going to make a fool of himself.
But the fact that he had, that it was over a woman, was
rare enough that he knew they wouldn’t ignore it or let
him forget it. He simply didn’t cause scenes, ever, but
especially over women.
Turning back to Allison, striving for a
pleasant look rather than that of a crazy man, he
said, “I’d like to talk to you. In private.” The words
slipped out through his teeth and the parody of a smile
he’d forced to his mouth.
She rolled her lips in and bit them, her gaze
still wary, then nodded. But she looked far from
willing. She looked nervous as hell. He could feel her
nervousness, damn her, just like he’d felt everything else.
TANGLED IMAGES
Mack Winston was minding his own business as usual. His
thoughts were focused inward, mostly on career choices and
disappointments, but he whistled carelessly, unwilling to
let anyone witness his concern. The day was snowy and
cold, getting colder by the moment, and his nose felt
frozen. He was distracted enough not to care.
But the second he entered the family-owned bar
he saw them, all three of his damned older brothers and
his two sexy sisters-in-law, huddled together at a single
tiny table. They looked…conniving.
They’d been working on him lately, trying to
cheer him when he didn’t want them to know he needed
cheering. It irritated him. He liked being known as the
carefree brother, the fun brother. It suited him.
Since it was early and the bar was not yet
open, they glanced up at him when they heard the door
close. Then they did a double take. The women suddenly
smiled, and their smiles were enough to make the slowest
man suspicious. And despite his brothers’ ribbing, he
wasn’t slow.
Mack’s whistling dwindled. He thought about
making a strategic retreat, but then Zane, only three
years his senior, called out, “Ha! A lamb for the
slaughter! What perfect timing you have, Mack.”
Cole, the oldest brother and the most
protective, shook his head, looking somewhat chagrined
that Mack had shown himself at this precise moment.
Chase, the second oldest and the quietest, glanced at Mack
and snorted. Both their wives looked as if an enormous
problem had just been solved. Whatever the problem, Mack
knew he didn’t want to be the solution.
Zane grinned. “I tried to save you, honestly,
but I’ll be out of town.”
Cole rolled his eyes. “You’re too damn
willing, Zane. It unnerves me.”
Chase merely snorted again. His wife,
Allison, patted his arm. “You were never even considered,
honey, so relax. There’s no way I want the female masses
of Thomasville ogling your perfect body. You’re a married
man now, and that means I’m the only one allowed to ogle.”
Mack backed up two steps.
Sophie, Cole’s wife, now seven months
pregnant, ran over to Mack and latched onto his arm. “You
understand, I couldn’t let Cole do it. Not that he would
have, anyway. You know how reserved he is. But my God,
it would have started a riot! Can you just imagine how
the women would react to Cole?”
Mack didn’t know what she was rambling on
about, but he almost smiled anyway. Sweet Sophie harbored
this absurd notion that Cole was perfect, and that every
female he met wanted him in the most lascivious manner
imaginable.
Mack had to agree that in many ways, his older
brother did border on perfection. Cole had pretty much
raised him and Zane, with Chase’s adolescent help, after
their parents’ deaths, and he’d done a great job of it.
But Cole was so over the top in love with his wife that he
no longer even noticed other women. They could riot all
they wanted, and Cole wouldn’t care.
Both Cole and Chase had only recently married,
and Zane swore Mack would be next, that the Winstons had
somehow been cursed or blessed, the two remaining
bachelors still uncertain which it was. Oh, their
brothers felt blessed, and the sisters-in-law were
wonderful. It was just that Zane didn’t ever want to
marry, and Mack didn’t want to marry anytime soon.
He’d been very cautious around women ever
since Chase had unexpectedly succumbed, proving the virus
to be very real. Of course, Mack had been shunning the
dating scene for other reasons as well. While he was in
college, his studies had taken precedence over everything
else. Well, everything except one very sexy, very
enticing woman - who hadn’t wanted a damn thing to do with
him. There were still times when he dreamed of her, and
someday he hoped to meet a woman like her, one that could
turn him on with just a look. But until then…
Sophie’s hand tightened on his arm, and Mack
tried to step away. He didn’t get very far. Though she
looked small and delicate, Sophie had a grip like a
junkyard dog hanging onto a prized bone.
Zane sauntered over, his eyes glinting with
humor. “I still think I’d have been the best choice. But
you know I’m going out of town for that convention, so
that leaves you, little brother.”
Mack swallowed, eyeing each relative in
turn. “What exactly does that leave me to do?”
Sophie squeezed a little closer, and her tone
became cajoling. “Why, just a little modeling.”
His brows shot up. “Modeling?”
“Yes.”
Chase snorted again.
“All right.” Mack decided enough was
enough. “Sophie, turn me loose, I promise not to bolt.
Zane, I’m going to flatten you if you don’t stop
grinning. And no, Chase, there’s no need to snort again.
I already gather this isn’t something I’m going to enjoy.”
“Nonsense!” Allison, his other meddling
sister-in-law, whom he adored to distraction, leapt to her
feet to join Sophie. Mack felt sandwiched between
feminine resolve. He assessed their wide-eyed, innocent
stares warily.
With a sigh Cole came to his feet,
too. “Sophie has some harebrained idea of offering a new
line of male lingerie at her boutique.”
Male lingerie! Mack stiffened and again tried
to back up. The sisters-in-law weren’t allowing it.
“It’s not lingerie, Cole,” Sophie insisted in
a huff. Since her pregnancy had gotten under way, she
huffed more often. “It’s loungewear. And it’s very
popular.”
Mack’s head throbbed the tiniest
bit, “Loungewear?”
“Yes, you know, like silk boxers and robes,
and -”
Zane leaned forward. “And thongs and lace-up
leopard print briefs and leather skivvies and -”
Allison slapped her hand over Zane’s mouth. “Women
appreciate those nice things on a man.”
Zane, Mack, and Cole all stared at Chase, who
immediately started to bluster, while frowning at his
wife. “Oh, no. You can forget those thoughts right now!
That’s just an assumption on Allison’s part. You wouldn’t
catch me dead in any of that goofy stuff.”
Disappointed, they all returned their
attention to Mack. He looked around at their expressions,
which varied from amused to resigned to hopeful, and he
shook his head. “Hell, no.”
Sophie glared at him. “You don’t even know
what it is that I want yet.”
“Honey, I don’t need to know. If it involves
this…this…male loungewear, I want no part of it.”
Her eyes narrowed in a calculating way. “All
I need you to do -”
“No.”
“- is to let the photographer get a few
pictures of you in the clothing to advertise it in a new
catalogue.”
“No!”
“Because there’s no way I can afford to hire a
real model, who would probably have to come all the way
from New York or Chicago, and I have the feeling you’d
look better anyway.”
Well, that was a nice compliment, but…he shook
his head. “No.”
Zane pried Allison’s hand away. “Not as good
as I’d look, but as I said -”
Three voices yelled in unison, “Shut up, Zane!”
Zane only chuckled.
Sophie continued, her voice coercing, her eyes
wide, “This is a great opportunity for me, Mack. The
photographer is a friend of mine, willing to do this cheap
for the exposure it’ll bring the studio. I’m getting a
special deal here. It’ll only take two or three days -”
“No.”
“- so it won’t really interfere with your
schedule or anything -”
“Damn it, Sophie -”
“- and Valentine’s Day would be the perfect
time to advertise the new line.”
Mack groaned.
“So it’s all set, then. And Mack, I really
appreciate it.” She gave him a sideways, very calculating
glance. “You can consider this payback for all those
study sessions with me for your college science classes.”
He felt doomed. He could only
mumble, “Unfair, Sophie.”
She batted her pretty blue eyes at him and
said, “You’d never have passed anatomy without me.”
Cole’s mouth fell open. “All those late
nights she helped you study, it was for anatomy?”
Mack rolled his eyes. “Just female
reproduction. That stuff’s confusing.”
Zane roared with laughter, and this time Chase
and Allison joined him. Cole, still huffing, pulled his
wife possessively to his side while Mack groped for a
chair and fell into it.
“Well, hell.” He looked to the heavens, but
all he saw was the ceiling of the bar. He supposed there
was no help for it at all.
He tilted his head toward Zane. “You’d
actually have done this if you weren’t going out of town?”
“Are you kidding? The women will love it.
You’ll have so many new dates, you won’t have time to be
in a funk.”
“I’m not in a funk.”
Chase snorted.
Rubbing his brow, Mack tried to ignore them
all. He knew Zane probably would like to flaunt himself a
little. He was a born exhibitionist and wallowed in the
female attention heaped upon him. But Mack wasn’t that
way - at least, not as much so as Zane. There’d been only
that one woman he’d ever wanted to wallow with.
He glared at Sophie and said, “I’m not wearing
anything stupid.”
She glared right back. “I wouldn’t carry
anything stupid at my boutique!” Then she softened. “But
don’t worry. There’ll be a selection available, and you
and the photographer can decide together which things to
photograph. Other than a few definites that have to be in
the catalogue, you can pick and choose.”
“Gee, thanks.”
Sophie handed him a card that read “Wells
Photography,” and listed a downtown address. She gave him
a huge hug and kissed his cheek. “Be there Friday at two
o’clock, okay?”
At least that gave him two days to get used to
the idea. Or rather, two days to dread it.
TANGLED SHEET
She refused to spend her twenty-sixth Valentine’s Day as a
virgin.
Despite her circumspect upbringing, despite
the well-meaning stricture of the maiden aunt who’d raised
her, she was ready to become a woman, in every sense of
the word. And Cole Winston - bless his gorgeous, sexy
soul - was offering her the opportunity she needed to see
her plans through.
Sophie Sheridan scanned the flyer again as she
hesitated just inside the door of Cole’s bar, previously
called The Stud by some macho former owner, but changed to
merely the Winston Tavern after Cole bought it. Heaven
knew, the bar’s reputation was notorious enough without a
suggestive label. Though, to Sophie’s mind, The Stud was
pretty apropos, given what the Winston men looked like,
Cole Winston especially.
All the neighboring shops had received a flyer
inviting women to take part in a new Valentine’s Day
contest. Not that the Winston men needed an incentive to
draw in the female crowd. Women loved to come here, to
see one of the four brothers serving, tending bar, simply
moving or smiling. They were a gorgeous, flirtatious lot,
but Sophie had her eye on one particular brother.
The door opened behind her as more patrons
hustled in, allowing icy wind and a flurry of snowflakes
to surround her. For just a moment, intrusive laughter
overwhelmed the sound of soft music and the muted hum of
quiet conversation. Distracted, Sophie stepped farther
inside the bar, then headed for her regular seat at the
back corner booth, away from the heaviest human
congestion. Since she’d met Cole some seven months ago
after buying her boutique, he’d gone out of his way to
accommodate her, to make certain her seat was available
for her routine visit each night. He did his best to
cater to all his customers’ preferences, which in part
accounted for his incredible success at the bar. Cole
knew everyone, spoke easily with them about their families
and their problems and their lives.
But he was so drop-dead sexy, Sophie spent
most of her time in his company trying to get her tongue
unglued from the roof of her mouth. It was humiliating.
She’d never been so shy before; of course, she’d never
received so much attention from such an incredible man
before, either. Cole made her think of things she’d never
pondered in her life, like the way a man smelled when he
got overheated, so musky and sexy and hot, and how his
beard shadow might feel on the more sensitive places of
her body.
She shuddered, drawing in a deep breath.
While Cole believed she was timid and
withdrawn, and treated her appropriately, Sophie had
concocted some sizzling, toe-curling fantasies about him.
Now, thanks to his contest, she just might be able to
fulfill them.
Heat slithered through her, chasing away the
lingering cold of winter, coloring her cheeks.
Unfortunately, Cole chose that moment to set her requisite
cup of hot chocolate in front of her. He’d put extra
whipped cream on the top, and the smell was deliciously
sinful. Almost as delicious as Cole himself.
“Hello, Sophie.”
His low voice sank into her bones, and she
slowly raised her gaze to his. Warm whiskey described the
color of his eyes, fringed by thick, black lashes and
heavy brows. She swallowed. “Hi.”
Slow and easy, his grin spread as he looked
down to see the flyer clutched in her hand. “Good.”
There was a wealth of male satisfaction in his rough tone,
and his gaze lifted, locking onto hers, refusing to let
her look away. “You going to enter?” he asked in a
whisper.
Here was the tricky part, the only way she
could think to gain her ends. Their relationship, already
set by her tongue-tied nervousness, was hard to overcome.
She couldn’t merely go from reserved to aggressive
overnight, not without confusing him and risking a great
deal of embarrassment.
Her aunt Maude had drummed the importance of
pride and self-respect into her from an early age. If she
gambled now, and lost, she’d also lose the comfort of
coming to his bar every night, the excitement of small
conversations, and the heat of her fantasies. If he
rejected her, she wouldn’t simply be able to pick up and
carry on as usual. Something very precious to her - their
relationship - would have been destroyed. Everyone she
loved, everyone she felt close to, was gone. She didn’t
want to risk the quiet, settling camaraderie she shared
with him in the atmosphere of his bar. But if she won, if
she was able to interest him for even a short time, it
wouldn’t last. Cole was renowned as a diehard bachelor;
he simply didn’t get overly involved with anyone. At
thirty-six, you had to take his dedication to living alone
seriously. The man obviously liked being a bachelor, had
worked hard at staying that way.
His rejection could put a distance between
them she wasn’t willing to chance. So she had to use
deception.
“I couldn’t,” Sophie said, laying the colorful
flyer aside. She licked her lips in nervousness and toyed
with the cup of hot chocolate, making certain it sat
exactly in the center of her napkin. “I’d feel silly.”
Cole’s smile was indulgent and blatantly
male. He pulled a chair over from the next table rather
than sitting opposite her in the booth. He straddled it,
his arms crossed over the back. “Why?” He sat so close,
Sophie could smell his scent, cologne and warm male flesh,
a combination she hadn’t appreciated or even noticed until
meeting Cole. She breathed deeply and felt her stomach
flutter, as if his scent alone could fill her up.
Cole tilted his head at her, cajoling. “All
you need to enter is a photo. I can even take your
picture here at the bar. There will be dozens of other
pictures up, too, you know. Already, we’ve had around
twenty women sign up. I’ll hang all the pictures in the
billiard room, and on Valentine’s Day, we’ll vote on the
prettiest picture.
“There’s no point in it,” Sophie said, though
she hadn’t meant to. She wasn’t fishing for a compliment,
but she realized that was how it sounded when Cole made a
tsking sound.
His hand cupped under her chin, lifting her
face, and his look was so tender, so warm, her heart
tripped over several beats, making her gasp. “You’re very
pretty, Sophie.”