Crockett's Seduction

He tipped his hat to her.

Slowly, she backed away from the door, closing it behind her. Her pulse thundered. He was hotter than a man had a right to be.

“You like him,” she whispered to Annette as they walked down the hall, “and so do I.”

The flattered feelings Crockett gave her were like a sweet, forbidden confection—one an unwise woman ate and then later regretted.

Valentine might have made mistakes in her past, but this time she would be wise. If she didn’t lose her head, then she couldn’t lose her heart.

Chapter Three

If Crockett hadn’t been thinking about panty-filled cakes and how pretty Valentine’s fanny probably looked in a thong, he might have noticed Last waiting for him on the porch.

“Bro,” Last said, his arms crossed over his chest. “It seems strange to me that your creativity has returned, and now you’re walking Valentine home. It’s like…I don’t know. One and one makes two, you know?”

Crockett frowned, walking around his brother. “Seems to me the math’s already been done. One and one made three. You didn’t choose to walk two parts of the equation home, so shut the hell up.”

Last followed him into the house. “That doesn’t mean you should have.”

“Then who, Last?” Crockett put his hat on the counter and stared his brother down. “It was a courtesy, nothing more, one which you should have performed.”

Last shrugged. “At the table, it seemed like you two were getting along pretty well.”

Crockett sighed. “Are you trying to tell me that you have feelings for her? That you ever had feelings for her?”

“Not those kind of feelings.”

Crockett breathed a sigh of relief that he didn’t allow his brother to hear.

“But Annette’s my daughter.”

Crockett shook his head. “I thought I had all the jealousy in the family.”

“I’ve got my fair share.”

They sat down on the sofa, glancing around to make sure Helga wasn’t around before putting their boots on the coffee table.

“I’m just getting good at the relationship with my daughter,” Last said quietly. “Frankly, it took me a while.”

“I know. We thought your Mohawk phase might last longer than it did.” Crockett picked up the remote and began channel surfing. Some things were easier to discuss lightly.

“Maybe I shouldn’t have brought it up,” Last said. “I just wanted you to know how I feel.”

Crockett nodded and closed his eyes, wishing Last would cool his jets. Family angst wasn’t what he wanted to think about. He wanted to think about Valentine—and her fanny—and about the creative ideas suddenly filling his mind. Something about that tiny woman with the very round, very upstanding tushie made his juices flow, made him want to…sculpt. Her.

She brought inspiration to life inside him in ways he had never imagined. What medium would best illustrate her curves?

Clay! Calhoun didn’t work with clay!

“I need some more time to work things out with Valentine.”

Last’s words penetrated the dense fog of Crockett’s inspired musing. “I wasn’t aware the two of you were trying to work anything out.”

“Not like that,” Last admitted. “It’s the family angle I’m working on. The father thing.”

A curious rush of jealousy, more powerful than anything Crockett had experienced before, surprised him. “Father thing?”

“Yeah, I’ve been polishing my game. Performing my obligations. Whatever you want to call it.”

“Let me get this straight. From the day Frisco Joe met Annabelle and her baby, Emmie, you talked about Jefferson children. You sent all our brothers off with marching orders to procreate. Surprise, surprise, you become a dad, too, only you get mad as hell and do everything you can to ignore Annette for months, leaving your responsibilities to Mason and me and our other brothers. Now you decide to bust my chops because I’m paying attention to Valentine and Annette?” He shook his head. “Dude, it’s not going to work. You can’t treat people that way. You’ve ignored Valentine since she came to the ranch. I’m not trying to get in your way when it comes to being a dad, but you’re not going to get in my way of…whatever.”

“And what is whatever? Just so I’ll understand.”

Crockett slapped his brother on the back of the head. “She’s a nice lady. I like to look at her.”

Last moved away from his older brother’s reach. “And if I don’t like whatever? If I need more time to get my own deal worked out with my family? Then what?”

“Have at it.” He looked his brother in the eyes. “Don’t get competitive, Last. You don’t like hanging around her, I do. Deal with it.”

Last got up from the couch, agony on his face. “I am trying to be as good a father as Maverick was.”

“I’m not stopping you.”

Last sighed. “I feel like I need something that’s mine, where none of my brothers overshadow me.”

Crockett could relate to that feeling. “We’re just friends. And I’m only interested in spending time with her because it seems I’ve recently turned into a butt-man.”

“Butt-head, you mean.”

“No, butt-man. Valentine has a great tush. It inspires my creativity. That’s all I’m thinking about. Nothing deeper than that.”

Last nodded, then left Crockett with the TV while he headed down to Valentine’s. He hesitated before knocking on the door. Crockett was pretty much correct: Last had avoided Valentine for a long time.

The realization that he was a father had changed his life and frightened him. He’d doubted his ability to be a proper role model. He hadn’t wanted to be tied down to a woman. At the time, it had felt as if he’d gotten roped in. Later, he realized that the few pounds of squealing flesh that bore his name wasn’t all that frightening. He’d slowly begun to worm his way into Valentine’s good graces, and he’d moved just as slowly over the first bumps of fatherhood.

He’d been feeling pretty good about matters—until Crockett had started eyeing his family.

The door opened and Valentine looked out at him. “Hi, Last,” she said, her tone somewhat surprised.

Of course she was surprised. “Is Annette asleep?”

“Nearly. Did you want to see her?”

He shifted. “Actually, I wanted to ask you something.”

Her big eyes widened. “All right.”

“There’s never going to be anything between you and me, is there?”