Ace's Wild. Sarah McCarty

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Ace's Wild - Sarah  McCarty Hell's Eight

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lifted her chin. “I highly doubt I have anything in common with Mr. Parker.”

      From the tug Ace gave his hat, he wasn’t any too pleased with the observation, either. “Yeah. You’d have to shove a broomstick up my ass to get me to be that uptight.”

      “Ace!” Maddie reprimanded from within the store.

      Petunia just raised her brow. Did he think his crudeness would shock her? “We could probably arrange that.”

      “You and what posse?”

      “I imagine we could assemble a few of your disgruntled companions to make it happen.”

      Ace made a sound. She couldn’t tell if he was choking on outrage or laughter. Before she could ask, Caden interrupted.

      “Never seen two cats fight as much as you two do. At least not without a hell of a good reason.”

      Ace was entirely too quick to say, “I’ve got a reason.”

      And she was entirely too curious to know what it was. Before she could open her mouth to retort, Maddie came around the counter. “Please. We like you both.”

      Caden didn’t move, but the air suddenly seemed thicker. “What my wife is trying to say, Ace, is that no one cares about your reason. As my wife’s friend, Petunia is always a welcome guest in my home.” His voice lowered just a fraction. “And always under my protection.”

      Ace pulled up straight. Shoulders squared as subtle tension entered his stance. His “The hell you say” was low and threatening.

      Maddie stopped dead. The catch in Petunia’s breathing became permanent. Caden wasn’t even ruffled. “You heard me.”

      If Caden had spoken to her in that tone, Petunia would be running. Ace didn’t even bat an eye. Caden waved his hand. Maddie went back behind the counter.

      “This is none of your business, Caden.”

      “So take me to court.”

      “That’s not fair, Caden,” Maddie called. “You know Judge Bracen is holding a grudge against Ace.”

      “Another one of your satisfied customers?” Petunia asked with a lift of her brows.

      Ace shrugged. “He’s not pleased I didn’t declare that fool’s gold of his genuine.”

      “Cost him a pretty penny on that land deal.”

      “I’m sorry to hear that,” Petunia interrupted, wanting this to end before it got more combative. She might not want to like Ace, but she did like Caden and Maddie, and Maddie was sympathetic to her cause. Caden she wasn’t so sure of. Out of the corner of her eye she could see the set of Ace’s shoulders. Along her nerve endings she felt the weight of his stare, and that breathless trembling started anew. It was definitely time to go.

      “Thank you for the cinnamon roll, Maddie.” She forced herself to take a nibble. The soft pastry sat like lead in her mouth. Tension skimmed along her nerves. “It’s delicious as always.” She nodded to Caden. Ace she ignored.

      He naturally couldn’t let that pass. “Not even going to say goodbye?” he asked as she turned.

      Nope. Not a goodbye. Not a glance. Not anything that would feed her weakness. Lifting her skirts with her free hand, she stepped off the walk, ignoring the inner prompting that wanted to know if he watched her, if he was smiling, if there was approval in his eyes. She forced herself to continue toward home and not give him the satisfaction of looking back. It was the hardest thing she’d done in a long, long time.

      * * *

      ACE WATCHED PETUNIA stroll down the street in that purposeful way of hers and shook his head. Seems he’d been watching Petunia since the day she’d stepped off the stage all pale blond elegance and temptation. She wasn’t the sort of woman a man like him would approach. Buttoned-up women were notoriously boring in and out of bed, but there was a reckless side to Petunia that no amount of blue serge could conceal. One that, once fed by the fire of conviction, could take her where angels feared to tread. Like right up into Simon Laramie’s face when he’d protested her effort to feed his hungry kids. Laramie outweighed her by a hundred pounds, but she’d stood there like size didn’t matter and taken him to town. A man had to admire that much gumption. Protect it. Preserve it... Nurture it. Shit. He wanted to punch a wall. He wanted to follow her, pick her up, toss her over his shoulder, swat her on that delicately rounded ass and carry her off to his bed with her gasp still ringing in his ear. He wanted her in his arms. His bed. His home. With a silent curse, Ace cut that line of thinking short. Again.

      That was the dangerous side of Petunia Wayfield. She made him want things he’d long ago given up hoping for. A wife. Family. Men like him didn’t have those things. But it didn’t mean they couldn’t protect the one who fed that faintest of hopes. About a month ago, he’d accepted Petunia was that one for him. There was something within her that drew him. Fascinated him. Enthralled him to the point that lately, all he could think about was her lying bound in his bed, that sweet pale flesh wearing his mark, her femininity sweetly displayed. His blood heated even as he ground his teeth. The woman was like a bad case of poison ivy, a constant irritation.

      “Why do you tease her so?” Maddie asked when Petunia was out of earshot.

      For no reason fit for Sunday discussion. “The woman has too much starch in her bloomers.”

      “So you irritate her just to get a reaction,” Maddie stated, coming up beside him and shaking out her cleaning cloth.

      He smiled, watching Petunia step up onto the opposite walk, for a moment catching the hint of ankle beneath her layers of skirt and petticoats. His cock, semihard, threatened to become an embarrassment. He pulled his gaze away. “She does have a short fuse.”

      “It seems to me the only reason you want to take the starch out of her bloomers,” Caden remarked, taking a seat in the chair he’d just settled against the door, “is because you want to be getting in them.”

      Ace snorted. “The woman’s an old maid.”

      Maddie huffed and put her hands on her hips. The cloth fluttered against her side. “She’s intelligent, passionate and she cares about the same things you do. You could do worse.”

       Petunia couldn’t.

      “The only reason that woman’s ever been in a saloon is to try and shut it down. She probably thinks it’s hell on a good day.”

      Maddie snorted. “You’re always rooting for the underdog, just like her.”

      “Not that anyone notices.”

      Caden stretched his legs out. “That’s because you don’t want them to notice.” Ignoring Ace’s glare, Caden caught Maddie’s hand and pulled her into his side. The ease with which she relaxed into Caden’s embrace sent another pang through Ace.

      “And why is that?” Maddie asked, shoving the cloth in her apron pocket.

      Ace leaned over and tugged her hair, goading Caden with the casual familiarity. “Maybe because I’m not an upstanding pillar of the community.”

      Caden

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