Back to Buckhorn. Lori Foster

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Back to Buckhorn - Lori Foster


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      “Not from her perspective, I’m sure.”

      “Yeah, probably not.” Shohn asked, “A kid really threw up on her?”

      “Yeah.” He relayed the story.

      “Almost happened to me once,” Adam admitted. “A fifth-grade girl came up, said she was sick and started gagging. I got a garbage can under her in the nick of time, and it was still gross. Felt really bad for her, too. The other kids teased her until I made them all run laps.”

      Garrett wondered how Zoey felt about walking through the airport in such a messy state. Had she gotten stares? Whispers? She’d put up with it in school. She shouldn’t have to put up with it still.

      “So...” Opening the fridge and searching around, Shohn helped himself to a cola. “Why’s she using your shower?”

      “Like she said, she just flew in.”

      “She’s not from around here?”

      He shook his head. “She moved away back when I was a senior. Remember Gus Donahue?”

      “He’s that guy who died in a car wreck, right?” Buckhorn rarely lost one of their own, and when they did, especially a kid, they remembered.

      Adam frowned with the memory. “Jumped a hill and wrapped his car around a tree.”

      Distracted, Garrett pulled out a chair. “Upstairs in my shower is Zoey Hodge.”

      Shohn dropped into a chair across from him. “The girl who broke up with him?”

      “The girl,” Adam said with a frown, “who too many blamed?”

      “One and the same.”

      The old pipes in the house rattled when the water came on. Both his cousins looked up at the ceiling as if they could see her showering overhead.

      They looked with sympathy, but damn, even with the surprise of her wrecked appearance, Garrett was starting to feel a little differently. Maybe because no woman had ever used his shower.

      Or maybe because she bit that full bottom lip the same way he’d always imagined doing.

      Or it could be those hot little panties she’d soon be slipping into...

      “She’s moving back?” Shohn asked.

      “Here for a visit, far as I know. Her mom got hurt pretty bad when she fell from her horse. Zoey will be helping out. But the mom had been staying with the uncle—”

      “Who was Gus’s coach.” Adam let out a low whistle. “Surely he doesn’t blame her?”

      “No way,” Shohn said. “Not after all this time.”

      Garrett shrugged at them both. “Don’t know.” But he remembered Coach Marchum being a real asshole. “She didn’t seem interested in going there, though, and I couldn’t see taking her straight to the bookstore without letting her clean up first.”

      The water shut off and they all looked up again. True to her word, she’d made it quick. And right now, she’d be stepping out.

      Naked. Wet.

      Knowing he needed to get his thoughts back on safer ground, Garrett turned to Shohn. “What did you need to talk about?”

      Sitting back in his seat, his gaze speculative, Shohn sprawled out his legs. “Remember that damned fire at the lake? The one where everyone scattered before you could figure out who’d started it?”

      “I do.” What had probably started as a group of high schoolers roasting marshmallows and indulging in a little necking, got out of hand when a knucklehead decided to toss in some fireworks. They’d gone off and started a dozen small fires. No real damage, but next time could be different, so it wasn’t something they’d entirely overlook. “We’re still asking some questions about that, but you know how it is. None of the kids want to be a snitch.”

      “I was hoping you’d found a name or two because there was another fire like it at the park.”

      Garrett sat forward...until Shohn waved him back.

      “The fire was already cold when I found it, and whoever set it did a good job of keeping it contained. But there were fireworks wrappers left around the area.” He shook his head. “Bottle rockets and dry conditions do not mix in the woods.”

      “And we both know which knucklehead has a tendency to dick around with bottle rockets.”

      “I’ll snoop around,” Shohn said with a nod. “See if he was camping out that night.”

      Just what this situation didn’t need. “Shit.” Squeezing the bridge of his nose, Garrett fought off a headache.

      “Not enough sleep?” Adam asked.

      “I’m fine.” But yeah, he’d been up most of the night with his shift, then had talked with a few Scout leaders about letting their kids come in for a tour. He still had a dozen things to do today, and—

      He froze as he suddenly heard singing. Off-key singing.

      They all grinned.

      Garrett didn’t mean to laugh at her, but wow, she sounded bad, maybe even worse than she’d looked. “She’s probably using the blow-dryer and doesn’t realize how loud she’s being.”

      “Or,” Shohn said, “she doesn’t care.”

      Adam cocked a brow. “You think?”

      “If I’m remembering right, she always was a little out there.”

      “Yeah?”

      “A real free spirit,” Shohn explained.

      Garrett narrowed his eyes. “Thought you didn’t remember her?”

      “Not with how she looks now, no. But since you jogged my memory, it’s coming back to me.”

      Adam watched him. “You going to take her up on dinner?”

      Shohn scoffed at the idea. “No offense, but you saw her. He’ll find a way out of it.”

      But how? Garrett didn’t want to hurt her feelings.

      When the singing suddenly stopped, he froze. They all listened. Hell, Garrett even held his breath. But she made not a single sound on the stairs.

      And then suddenly she was there, striding barefoot down the short hall to the kitchen.

      The air left his lungs in a low exhalation.

      Without even realizing it, he pushed back his chair and stood.

      Shohn and Adam did the same.

      They all gawked at her.

      Zoey held her dirty clothes wrapped in the gray T-shirt. Freshly washed long brown hair hung in soft waves, pulled over one shoulder to cover her left breast.

      Supershort, white-cuffed shorts left her entire long, shapely legs bare, and the peach-colored halter emphasized the shape and swell of modest B-sized breasts.

      Her bare shoulders were lightly kissed by the sun, her green eyes bright with amusement, her mouth—God, that mouth—curved as she appreciated his reaction.

      With a small curtsy, she said, “Better, right?”

      They all nodded.

      Adam got it together first, at least enough to say, “Incredible.”

      Zoey laughed.

      “Hard to believe,” Shohn murmured, “that you’re the same woman.”

      Her small nose wrinkled. “Throw-up has a way of making everything pretty icky.” She turned those big green eyes on Garrett. Her teeth sank into that plump bottom lip as she searched his face, then her smile widened. “What do you think?”

      He


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