The Wrangler (The Yacht Club #2)

Chapter 2

Two

ALEX

My phone chimes with a text.

Stone: Grills hot. Get your ass down here.

Fuck . I can’t avoid the new guest forever but no way am I going downstairs commando in gray sweats. Even after my tension-relieving session in the shower. One look at that sweet redhead’s peach of an ass packed into bluejeans and everyone will be aware of my situation. Hell, my damn cock is twitching from threat of seeing her. I’m so screwed.

I shove my pants down, frowning at the fucker who gets me in all kinds of trouble. After stepping into some boxer briefs, because every layer will help, I put on a clean pair of jeans. The hallway is clear when I step out. I pause at the Columbine door. Should I invite her to join us? There’ll be plenty.

“Yes, sir.” Her voice sounds submissive, slightly scared even. Does she have a boyfriend? “I’m on it. I can do this.” Huh? Maybe she’s talking to her agent about the book. If so, he must be pushing her pretty hard. I resist the urge to knock. She’ll be too vulnerable, and I’m already a mess over her. I leave her door and continue down the hall.

Amy is coming up the stairs. “Did you invite Sonja?”

“Oh, uh?” I glance back up the stairs.

“Men.” She shakes her head. “I’ll ask her.”

I nod and keep moving. I can already hear the guys out back. The back door must be open. I rush down the stairs ready for a beer and whatever Stone’s cooking tonight.

I hit the deck and take a deep breath. Spring in Colorado is a whole lot cooler than what I grew up with. Supposedly it will get warm this summer. I’m not sure these local folks understand what heat is.

“There he is.” Tyler, the man who moved us out her to protect his wife, Amy, hands me an open bottle of some microbrew. I know better than to ask. Questions lead to lectures on hops and barley and yeast and shit that don’t matter. Either the beer tastes good or it doesn’t. This one isn’t bad. I give him a smile and nod to let him know I approve of his choice.

I glance around. Eliot is sitting at the table alone nursing his beer. I take the chair across from him.

“How’s the construction coming?” he asks.

“Wait.” Stone interrupts my answer, dropping a plate of grilled brats on the table next to a bag of kaiser rolls.

Amy pops out the back door her arms stacked with side-dish containers and condiments. I jump up to help her but Tyler beats me to it. With a cheesy little bow, I wing out my arm. “May I escort you to your seat, ma’am?”

Amy snort laughs and takes my arm. Tyler rolls his eyes. Dishes are passed around the table, as we load our plates.

“Where’s Sonja?” I ask quietly.

“She wasn’t feeling up to it. Long travel day.” Amy settles into the chair I pull out as I breathe a sigh of relief. At least dinner will be stress-free.

“How’s the construction coming, Alex.” Tyler is spooning sauerkraut into his bun.

“Dude, you were just out there.” I give him shit because I know he’s got an ulterior motive for asking. The former G-man always has a hidden agenda. “We’re wrapping up the first two condos. The three by two bedroom ADAs should be ready for inspection in two weeks. The first standard three bedroom might be done at the same time. Or close enough for us to schedule a visit from the inspector.”

Eliot turns his eagle-eyed gaze to me. “Three by two’s ours?”

“Yep.” I nod. Unable to say more without choking up. I cover my emotion by taking a big bite of fancy hot dog.

“Good,” Stone breaks the tension of remorse. “Guess we should start thinking about the soft opening for the club. Friends and family.”

“Not sure you want to refer to anything around a BDSM club as soft.”

I can’t believe Amy let that drop.

Eliot chokes on his beer. I cover my plate. “That’s alcohol abuse.”

Stone ignores our cut-ups. “Before we invite anyone we’ve got to finalize the rules. We’ve been dancing around this issue for weeks. We’re settling it tonight.”

This explains why we’re having a “family” dinner on a Monday night. I should have known there was an ulterior motive. Suddenly, I’m no longer hungry.

“Background checks. Even for guests,” Eliot starts as expected.

I passed the cursory investigation in St. Louis, but there’s no guarantee I’ll pass another. The Colorado Springs club, Pandora, took our St. Louis credentials after Stone spoke with the owner. I have no idea what might be found on my record now. All I know is my mom says the sheriff still hates me and threatens her almost every week after church, demanding she tell him where I am. It’s been almost exactly ten years, statute of limitations is just about up. I’m pretty sure I’ll be okay after that. But it’s a risk. Politicians changes laws all the time to get what they want. No one back home has more power than the sheriff. And now that my dad is running against Sheriff Littlejohn in the fall, who knows what the fucker will try to pull. I’d rather not come up on his radar due to a sex club search. I take a sip of my beer and shove my paranoia back into the shadows.

“We need to check the registered sex offender databases as part of that investigation.” Tyler’s tone invites no argument. “Not sure we could secure liability insurance without that precaution.”

“No felons. No sex offenders. I’d even look at arrest records. I don’t want some sketchy, skirt-the-law mother fucker being used to take down what we’re building here.” Eliot crosses his arms.

“I agree. We need to use our heads. Look at each applicant as an individual.” I’m surprised Stone isn’t arguing for iron clad, no-exceptions rules. “I’ve seen evil fuckers with squeaky clean records and I’ve met salt of the earth guys who got caught up in bad situations. I’m fine with outsourcing the basic search, especially for temporary guest passes. But for full-fledged club members who can have access to the private rooms, we need to do better than a simple records search.” Stone takes a pull off his beer and as he lowers the bottle he locks his steely gaze on me.

I freeze so I won’t squirm.

“What do you think, Alex?” Stone asks. The guys all turn to me. Even Amy is curious about my answer.

“Anyone can be arrested.” I pause trying to give myself some emotional distance from this discussion. “Doesn’t make what they’re accused of true.” I lift one shoulder in a half-hearted shrug as if I’m not talking about my own situation.

“Let’s put together the guest list for friends and family.” Amy, always the diplomat, refocuses the conversation. “Keep the list to those people we know well. If we need to expand the list to people we know less well, we can let them know we’re running a basic background check before they’ll be invited to attend. And in the meantime, you can get a lawyer to help you draw up the membership contracts and put the detailed background check requirements in there.”

“Agreed. Friends and family, soft opening, exclusive to who we know well.” Stone might as well have slapped down the gavel.

“We have to invite Reed,” Eliot says it like a challenge. The man has been edgy for months.

Stone nods in approval.

“And Blake.”

I jump in and try to ease Eliot’s concerns. “Elevator will be ready. The inspector is coming this week.”

Amy stands up. “I made pie.”

Tyler pops up, grabs a couple empty plates. “I’ll help you.”

That man can’t be ten feet from her if they’re in the same house. He may whip her ass on the regular, but she’s got him by the balls. I push aside my envy and finish my beer.

“Now that we’re getting close—scheduling the soft opening—we should think about how we’ll put up the website.” Eliot leans back in his chair and stares up at the still brilliant blue sky. “Thanks to Blake, we have the domain but he’s not interested in designing a website. Not his thing. We’ll need a public section and password-protected, members-only part.”

“Katherine could probably do it.” The words hit my lips before my brain has a chance to tell me to shut up.

“Gabe’s wife?” Eliot asks.

“What about Katherine?” Amy is at the door with a key lime pie decorated with whipped cream. My mouth waters.

“Thinking about hiring her to design our website,” Stone takes the pie and places it on the table. Tyler sets the plates down next to it.

“Oh. That’s a great idea. She hasn’t had a lot of design work lately.” Amy cuts the slices and doles them out. “Not that she needs a job, but she loves that kind of thing.”

Good. Amy can take point on asking Katherine. Gabe hates it when she has web-design work. Less time with his wife. They’re disgustingly in love. Or maybe it’s just me that’s disgusted because I’ll never have that. I glance up at the house. Did the curtain on Sonja’s window twitch? Is she listening to us?

Fire ants of unease scurry up my back. Why wouldn’t she just join us if she’s so curious?

I head upstairs after explaining I need to get to the job site early since the architect will be there and she’s a total ball-busting pain in my ass. As I open the door to my room, my phone rings with a video call from my mom. I can’t help but smile as I answer. “Hi, Momma.”

Her voice comes out in digital chunks and her face is frozen, only partially displayed on my screen. Shoot. “Let me call you back.”

I hang up and voice call her, cursing the fact that high speed internet still isn’t available at the ranch. She answers right away and puts me on speaker. “Daddy’s here too. Sorry about the video. I had to try.”

“No problem. Hey, Daddy.”

“Son, how’re you doing?” It’s been a couple weeks since we’ve spoken.

“Good. Staying busy with the construction. How about you?”

“We had to call you. It’s so exciting,” Momma bursts out sounding like a little kid. “Your Daddy is officially on the ballot to run for sheriff.”

“You are?” I’m shocked. He mentioned thinking about it but I didn’t know he actually did anything to follow up. “When did you decide that?”

“Got tired of the sheriff bullying your momma. Neighbors got together and secured the signatures I needed to be on the ballot. So I guess I’m running.”

I’m speechless. I have no idea what this will mean if Daddy wins. But I’m happy and proud of him for running. I tell him so, and catch up on the news of the ranch. Before long I’m yawning into the phone.

“We’ll let you go, son,” Momma says recognizing I’m half asleep already probably.

“Love you,” I mumble and they reply before I end the call. I miss them more than phone calls can fix, but it’s better than nothing.