Springer, Jan - In Her Bed [The Desperadoes 2] (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour) by Jan Springer Read Free Book Online Page A

meadow. Landon watched the lone feminine figure walking leisurely toward the stone house. He’d taken sentry beside the bedroom window shortly after hearing her leave an hour or so earlier. Pushing aside the dainty white lace curtains, he’d watched her sweet hips swaying and her shoulder-length, honey-gold hair waving in the wind as she’d strolled across the yellowing field. She’d been carrying a pink towel, so he knew she’d been heading down to the river to bathe.
    Brandy. He liked that name on her. His nickname for her, because her hair looked just like the color of golden brandy when the sun hit it, and heck, with her last name of Brandywine , that name just fit.
    The sun was hitting her hair that way right now as she strolled closer, the golden blonde strands waving like spun gold drying in the wind. He remembered from his previous stay here that she liked to air-dry her hair while going on solitary walks after bathing.
    She looked really pretty. Even prettier than when he and Durango had left to join his cousin’s gang. She even reminded him a little of his wife, Betty. She’d been a blonde, too, and they’d been so in love and recently married when the Catastrophe had come calling. Betty and he had been at her parents’ house over in Calgary when the solar flares had flashed against the windows.
    He’d thought it had been lightning, and he’d looked toward one window, his gaze leaving his startled wife one final time, his hand letting go of her hand as he thought about getting up to go and see what was going on.
    At the same time he’d heard moans from around the table where he’d been sitting with his wife, her parents, and her two sisters, sharing the news that Betty was four months pregnant with twins.
    One minute they’d been there, the next minute flashes of fire, grey smoke, and a really bad smell of burning flesh had burst through the dining room. When he’d swung his head to look, thinking maybe some sort of gas explosion had occurred, the woman he loved and her family had been piles of smoking grey ashes on their seats.
    A really cold, creepy feeling slithered through Landon at remembering how he’d been stunned for hours afterwards. How the icy goose bumps had scattered along his arms and lasted for months after that day. He preferred not to think about that day. Preferred not to relive it.
    Hell, he still had lots of nightmares about it. Still had lots of dreams of what life might have been like with Betty still alive and with two toddlers running around following him while he did the household chores. He pushed the anger and the despair back down inside himself where it belonged. He figured it was best not to ponder on it during daylight hours. Nights, he had no control over.
    Instead, he preferred to focus on Brandy. She was his future. Their new future. He would protect her with his life. He would protect their children. That is, if she agreed to having a couple kids with him. He didn’t want her to think she was a baby-making machine, but yeah, he’d dreamed of having a couple of kids. Maybe it was some weird twisted dream to replace the two he’d lost? He hoped not.
    Truthfully, he had probably fallen in love with her the minute he’d seen her when Durango had brought him home from Heart Creek, the nearest town where he’d been looking for work. He’d been half starved, and he’d been willing to work for food and a roof over his head. Durango had said he and Liz had just moved into the old place and that it needed fixing up big-time. He’d said they’d picked the quaint century-old home because it was the sturdiest abandoned building they’d come across and it was far away from the chaos of town, yet not so far that people who needed doctoring couldn’t find them.
    Yeah, he’d liked her right from the start. Liz was a tall woman. Thin with curves in all the right places.
    While working around the house he’d seen that look of interest flare in her pale blue eyes when she