Breaking Brent Read online

  Brent had ceased trying to convince Chase of this. The last time the subject was brought up, Brent had walked away with a bloody lip and four mad brothers. Even though his opinion still stood as it was, he kept it to himself. Things were better, but they weren’t great. Brent felt bad about the strain his feelings put on his relationship with his brothers but it was his opinion and he was sticking with it.

  He just had to grin and bear it until Chase realized Willa was no different now than she had been all those years ago. She had already left him once. She would do it again. It was only a matter of time. The Kiel’s had had enough grief and heartache in their short lives. They didn’t need any more.

  As his thoughts progressed so did his thirst. Lifting his hand, he motioned for Wade, the bartender for the evening, to order another round.

  Wade nodded his head once, letting Brent know he would be there in a minute and then went back to filtering shots into empty glasses. That was when Brent saw her.

  Peyton James.

  He felt a growl roll in his chest but forbid it from coming out of his mouth.

  What was she doing here?

  True, her daddy owned the bar and she did work for him, but Friday was usually her day off. That was the only reason he had accompanied his brothers out tonight—he knew she wouldn’t be here.

  His gaze caught hers for only the barest of seconds before he turned his eyes quickly away and focused on the bar top. From the corner of his eye, he saw one of her simple smiles cross her face before she returned to her task of persuading Lucky Davis to end his pursuit of romance as it pertained to her.

  “Damn, she’s a looker. They don’t make many like that anymore. Especially around these parts.” Hayden practically drooled as he made his comment. Brent smiled at his remark and then followed the line of his brother’s eyes. They were focused directly on Peyton’s ass. He could look all he wanted, but it wouldn’t change anything. Peyton James was off-limits—that’s all there was to it. The glittering diamond on her finger said as much. That was his fault. If he had just swallowed his pride and his fear of being hurt all those years ago, that diamond on her finger would have been his. Instead, he had acted like a supreme ass and pushed her away. He’d given her excuse after excuse, but never the real reason for his wanting to break up. He hadn’t wanted his space. He hadn’t wanted to date other people. He just didn’t want his heart broken if their relationship went south. He had walked away before she’d had the chance to. Now she belonged to someone else—belonged to someone else forever.

  “Tell me something.” Hayden leaned his dark head closer to Brent’s own and continued, “How is it that you can sit by twiddling your thumbs and your dick when she’s planning on marrying another man? I mean look at her. She’s definitely worth fighting for, in my opinion.” Brent watched as Hayden’s gaze, once again, roamed up one side of Peyton’s body and down the other. There was plenty there to keep a man’s eyes and mind busy for hours.

  “I tell you what, if you’re not going to do anything about the way you feel as far as Peyton is concerned, then I am. She’s too much woman for that roaming cowboy wannabe son of a bitch she’s thinking about marrying.” Hayden started to move from his seat, but Brent stopped him. His large fist grasped the front of Hayden’s shirt and pulled him back to his seat.

  “Or maybe I’ll just sit here and take in the scenery with everyone else.” Hayden smiled once more his way and then did just that.

  Brent couldn’t help but watch Peyton’s denim-encased ass walk away from Lucky. As she pulled the lever of the antique cash register, Brent’s eyes moved to another part of her. Her breasts. The motion made them move beneath her T-shirt. They were high and round and moved as she moved, like breasts should. Breasts like hers were hard to find. They were as real as they could be. Brent would know. Years ago, he’d had the opportunity of making those breasts and their owner his for the long haul. Shit happened though and things changed. Now she belonged to someone else. A roaming cowboy wannabe son of a bitch.

  Turning from the register, she made her way over to them. The short walk gave all the patrons at the bar enough time to look their fill. Hayden was right. She was a sight. Always had been. Her golden brown hair looked like copper in the sunlight. It was held in place by a ponytail holder and bounced as she moved. The walk wasn’t practiced or contrived—it was natural and sexy as hell. Her hips swayed back and forth and the movement caught Brent’s eye more than he would have liked.

  He emptied the beer bottle Wade had placed before him a few minutes before and laid the empty container back on the bar top as she arrived. As if it were second nature, she grabbed the bottle and tossed it into one of the garbage cans at her feet without even looking to see if she made it. She just knew.

  “What can I get for y’all?” Her drawl was honey soaked and vibrant. The sound brought back memories, memories he had tried to forget time and time again. That voice made his dick as hard today as it had years ago. Shit. He needed to get laid and laid fast or he wouldn’t be accountable for his actions as they pertained to Peyton and her ass and her breasts.

  And they were some nice breasts.

  They weren’t overly big, but they fit his hands and his mouth perfectly. No touch had ever been wasted when he had touched her. It pissed him off that her comment was made to all of the Kiels, but she intentionally overlooked him just as he tried to overlook her.

  “Let’s see.” Hayden said. “Another round of bottles and four more shots should do it. And a dance or two later wouldn’t break my heart.”

  Brent’s jaw clenched and his hands fisted until the knuckles turned white. Damn, Hayden and his aggravating ways.

  “How about another round for your brothers, a Coke for you and a hell no?” Peyton smiled as she popped the lids off the bottles and placed them in front of the brothers. Sometime during her answer Jason Kiel joined the brood. Evidently he’d lost interest in the female he’d been sweet-talking all evening.

  “Hell no to what?” Jason grabbed one of the bottles and turned it up.

  “Oh, nothing.” Peyton told him as she filtered liquid into the shot glasses in front of them. “Just telling this little boy here that I’m not on the menu this evening.” For good measure, she rubbed her hand through Hayden’s overly long hair and then smiled at Nick before collecting the money he offered her.

  She gave ample attention to each of his brothers, but ignored him without thinking twice about doing so. She had gotten good at doing that, looking right over him, but he was just as good as she was—or so he thought.

  “Boy? Hell, you’re more than welcome to feel again.”

  Peyton laughed and brushed off Hayden’s advances as she always did. The sound made Brent’s cock swell more than it already was—and that was saying something. After all these years and all that had happened between them, she could still make him harder than nails in a second flat.

  “So what’s the occasion?”

  “Bachelor party. Of sorts,” Nick supplied before taking the shot and grimacing.

  “Bachelor party, huh? So where’s the groom?” Brent watched Peyton lean against the counter and cross her arms over her chest. The action made her breasts plump and strain against the contours of her tight, white T-shirt. He wondered for a second if she knew what she was doing? Did she care that his zipper would be forever imprinted on his dick?

  “With his dearly beloved wife-to-be if I had to guess.” He couldn’t hide the disdain in his voice and he felt Hayden tense beside him as he spoke his feelings.

  “Your sarcasm is dually noted. Now that we know how you feel, how about another round? On me.” None of the brothers spoke as Peyton refilled their glasses. When she poured his, he glanced up to see her eyes looking into his. Her eyes said what her mouth didn’t have to. He had screwed the pooch and opened his damned mouth.

  “How about one more game before we call it a night?” Nick questioned Hayden before sliding off the stool.

  “Sounds good,” Hayde
n said as he grabbed the Coke Peyton poured for him. Brent caught the menacing look Nick flung his way as the two moved away from him and toward the pool tables. He shouldn’t have ever opened his fucking mouth. Nick had always held a soft spot for Willa. He knew better than to say anything. Things were just getting back to normal and he went and ruined it. If he were lucky someone would punch him square in the face for being such an asshole.

  “Someone needs to knock your hateful ass out,” Jason said as if he’d read his mind.

  Brent only grunted in reply.

  “I would, but I don’t want to ruin the boys night and I sure don’t want to cause Peyton any trouble.” Jason finished off his beer and handed the empty bottle to her. She was already waiting on it.

  “I appreciate it, Jason. I just got the jukebox replaced. Y’all busted it the last time you were in here.”

  “Now, Peyton, you know it wasn’t my fault. Those rednecks started it.”

  “Yeah, but you know as well as I do drunks don’t care if they hit on your sister or not.”

  “Stepsister.” Jason supplied. He was referring to their mother’s stepdaughter, Jocelyn. Four years after their father’s death their mother had started dating Harrison Reece. He was a nice man, good to her and a hard worker.

  Harrison had courted Lillian Kiel for three years before asking her to marry him. It had been time for their mother to remarry and be happy again. And she was.

  When she married Harrison, he inherited five boys and their mother got the daughter she’d always wanted. Jocelyn was a force to be reckoned with. She was as pretty as the day was long with a temper to match and a mouth and body that got her into more trouble than she could handle at times. Most of the fights the Kiel’s had been in for the past few years revolved around her. At twenty-two, she refused to be her daddy’s angel anymore and had decided to break her halo into a thousand different pieces and terrorize the county.

  She fit right in to the Kiel brood. That last fight at the bar had resulted in Jason’s broken nose, his bruised ribs, a kick to Nick’s groin and Peyton’s, or in fact her daddy’s, busted jukebox. It had also landed Jocelyn in some pretty hot water with her daddy. A place she didn’t like to be.

  “Speaking of Jocelyn, I haven’t seen her lately. Is she up for parole yet?” Brent watched Peyton’s lips curve and lift, creating a sleek and sultry half-smile as she spoke to Jason. Evidently there were no hard feelings toward Jocelyn over the mess that was made. It didn’t surprise him. They were kindred spirits. Peyton had been Millbrook’s token wild child for years and it didn’t look like that was going to stop any time soon.

  “She won’t be paroled until she’s thirty. It’s for her own good if you ask me.” Jason took the beer Peyton offered him, winked at her and sauntered his way to the pool table and the bottled blonde waiting on him.

  “You feel the same way?”

  Brent looked away from the female now running her nails back and across Jason’s forearm and centered his attention on Peyton. She propped her upper body on the bar across from where he sat and rested her head on her hand. The pose made her look sweet and innocent, but he knew better. He probably knew better than anyone did. Her posture also gave him a bird’s eye view of that damned ring she thought so much of.

  “You still not talking to me?”

  He pretended to concentrate on peeling the label from his beer bottle, but he saw her. How could he miss her? Each and every time she was near, his body went into overdrive. His palms got sweaty, his heart beat just a little faster and his temper flared. Those weren’t the only effects she had on his body though.

  He didn’t know how long they stood there in silence—her staring at him and him ignoring her stare. It was Peyton who finally broke the strained silence.

  “Fine.” There was an air of pissy connected to the word that only Peyton was capable of having—pissy with a ladylike quality attached to it. “Act like a two-year-old. See if I care. Just don’t say that I never tried, because I did. I tried more than you ever deserved.” Her words were uttered under her breath, but he heard them nonetheless. He looked up and her eyes locked dead on with his. “God, save me from too-stubborn-for-their-own-good cowboys.” She pushed her body from the bar and moved away from him.

  He started to say something—anything. But after all these years without a word spoken her way, he didn’t know what to say. Fortunately, or unfortunately, he didn’t get a chance to speak before an arm snaked around his waist.

  A flash of movement from the corner of his eye caught his attention and he turned just in time to receive the red, slick lips that pressed into his own.

  He knew that lipstick.

  He knew those lips. They belonged to one Kelly Cantrell. One of the notches on his bedpost he both regretted and didn’t in the same breath. Kelly had a killer figure, a killer mouth and the reputation to go along with it. Until Kelly got herself hitched or found another willing man to warm her bed at night, or during the day, he was fair game.

  “Hi there,” she drawled a little too sweetly. “I haven’t heard from you in awhile. I was beginning to think you were avoiding me.” He closed his eyes so that she wouldn’t see him roll them. He may have been a lot of things—standoffish, withdrawn and difficult at times, but he wasn’t blind or stupid or bad mannered all the time—just when it came to one person.

  “How you doin’, Kelly?” he asked as he wiped the left-behind cherry film from his lips. Small talk. He could do small talk.

  “Just fine. How about you?”

  “Fine.” That was small enough.

  “I called you a few weekends ago.”

  He knew she had. He’d missed the call on purpose.

  “I thought maybe you and I could get together sometime.”

  “I’ve been really busy here lately.” He had been. In between the ranch, his family and this damned wedding he was forced to participate in, he hadn’t time to piss, let alone date or do anything resembling it.

  “To busy for me?” One of Kelly’s nails ran the length of his thigh and traveled higher and higher until it flirted with the zipper of his pants. “I’ve missed you and it looks like you might have missed me too.” He was hard, that was evident, but it had nothing to do with Kelly. It had everything to do with the hellion standing at the end of the bar.

  He knew he would regret his next move come morning, but he made it anyway.

  “What’d you have in mind?” He saw the slight shock register across Kelly’s face, but it was shortly replaced with lust and giddiness.

  “Why don’t you follow me to my place and we can—” her hand squeezed his swollen cock as she spoke, “—figure it out there.”

  “Lead the way, darlin’.”

  Kelly slid from the stool and waited for Brent to follow, which he did with heavy limbs. He caught Jason’s attention and received a thumbs up from him before he turned his gaze back to Kelly.

  Brent left the bar not far behind Kelly. As he moved, he could feel a pair of eyes burning into the back of his head. He knew who they belonged to. He knew if he turned he would see absolutely nothing reflected in them. He didn’t know if he wanted to see anything.

  He couldn’t deal with hurting her again with his words and his actions, but she had done the same to him. They had hurt each other and kept their distance—it was for their own good.

  He kept his head and his eyes straight ahead and walked until he exited the bar. He climbed into his truck and followed Kelly out of the parking lot. Away from the bar and away from Peyton James. As he drove, he wished for something he knew he could never have—he wished it were Peyton he were following home.

  “Now why do you look like you could chew through a sixteen penny nail?” The voice close to her ear made Peyton jump, and when she saw whom the voice belonged to, she elbowed the speaker in the stomach.

  “Ow,” he grumbled. “That hurt like hell.”

  Peyton turned and stared up into her brother, Reed’s, cobalt eyes.

  “Serve
s you right for sneaking up on me that way.” It wasn’t until she looked at him a little more closely that she noticed he was covered in a heavy layer of dust. “What the hell happened to you?”

  “Got bucked,” he said with a shrug of his shoulders. He didn’t seem to care that he was filthy. He didn’t seem to care that he smelled like a horse’s ass. He simply grabbed a handful of nuts from one of the bowls lying around and jumped up on the bar as he ate his heart out.

  “Lovely. You do realize you smell don’t you?” She got another shrug in reply.

  “I’m supposed to smell. I’ve been working.”

  “You could have showered.”

  “Yeah, I guess I could’ve, but I didn’t plan on staying long. What’s the matter with you anyway? Someone jerk a knot in your tail?”

  “There’s nothing wrong with me. And you were supposed to be here at six.” She put a fake smile on and went on with her business. If she planned on getting out of here at a decent time tonight she needed to get the ball rolling.

  “Sorry, I got busy.” He flashed one of his boyish smiles and Peyton couldn’t help but roll her eyes. “What’s your problem anyway? If looks could kill.”

  “I told you nothing, so mind your own damn business, Reed James.” Her reply brought a heady, evil laugh from his body.

  “You can lie to yourself, but don’t lie to me. The looks you’re giving that front door, or better yet who just walked out of it, say plenty.”

  Peyton caught herself gritting her teeth and stopped. She relaxed her jaw and felt instant relief. How long had she had her teeth clenched? She snuck a peek toward the front door and noticed that Kelly and Brent were gone. Good riddance to the both of them. They were perfect for each other.

  Kelly was leggy, blonde and big boobed—everything Peyton was not. Brent was tall, dark and handsome. His skin stayed a golden color all year round from working under the hot Texas sun. He was tall, but not large and looming as some men were. His hair and his eyes were close to a dark chocolate color that reminded her of melting Hershey kisses. His body, well, a girl had to admit, his body was perfect. Or it was according to her memory.