His Runaway Bride Page 6

  Brownie nodded. "Yeah, I was afraid that might happen."

  "Well, it did."

  "How'd my brother handle it?"

  Jayne found herself frowning for an unknown reason. "Annoyingly well."

  Her friend laughed. "Yeah, he's like that. He's so freaking perfect sometimes, I just want to punch him, but then he's too fucking nice and I can't."

  "That sums him up pretty perfectly." She cleared her throat a little nervously then said, "But then Brae had gone off to do his bidding, and it was just us standing at the door, and he said something that I'm not sure how to take."

  "Oh?" That drew Brownie to the edge of her chair.

  "Yeah. I told him I was going grocery shopping, too, and he warned me off paying for it—which is wrong in and of itself—but it was the way he warned me."

  "The way? How'd he do it? Morse code? Sky writing? What?"

  Jayne shifted in her chair. "When Brae had a fit, he was very kind but very firm with him. He never lost his temper, but there was no doubt in Brae's mind that he'd screwed up. Pace was perfect with him, very calm and reassuring, but no nonsense at the same time."

  "Sounds like Pace."

  "Yeah, but when he was talking to me about not wanting me to pay for the groceries I'm going to get, he was like…kind of almost…threatening."

  Brownie's eyes got very round at that. "Really? That would be very unusual for him."

  Squirming a bit, she replied, "Well, he didn't say it all nasty and evil. He had much the same tone as he'd used with Brae."

  Her friend looked confused at that. "But what did he say, exactly?"

  Damn her tendency to blush!

  "He said something off color?" Brownie deduced.

  Heaving a sigh, Jayne ripped the Band Aid off. "He said something to the effect of 'if you misbehave, the way I would handle it would be very different from how I handled Brae'."

  Brownie almost smiled at that, and it didn't make Jayne feel any better at all. "Oh."

  "'Oh'? That's all you have to say? Some help you are."

  "Well, I can tell you what I think it means, but you should probably go to the source for confirmation." She took a sip of her coffee then looked back up at her friend, as if she was barely holding in a secret.

  "What are you not saying?"

  "Before I tell you, you need to decide just how much you want to know about my brother."

  Jayne craned her head back as she looked at Brownie a little warily. "I don't know how to answer that."

  "Well, you know he's interested in you."

  She tried to bluster, but there was no way she could get away with it with Brownie. The woman knew her much too well, and she was entirely too close to her brother for them not to have discussed the fact that he'd confessed his interest in her. She wasn't sure when that happened, but it didn't really matter, anyway.

  "He did mention that to me, although I didn't really say anything back to him about it, and he hasn't brought up the subject again."

  "Well, I can promise you that it's not gone away. He just doesn't want to overwhelm you. He recognized—almost as soon as he said it to you—that you have a lot on your plate right now."

  She wasn't sure how she felt about that, although she knew she should have been delighted.

  "But he has an…interest that he might have been feeling you out about, in what he thought was a non-threatening way."

  "An interest?"

  "Yeah." Brownie drew a breath before she spoke, and when she did, she looked her friend directly in the eye. "Pace likes to spank the women he's with. And not just in the bedroom, I gather. He's a Dom, and he likes that lifestyle."

  Jayne's eyes were nearly popping out of her head. If she'd been standing, she would have been flat on the floor by now at that information. "How do you know that?"

  Brownie shrugged, as if it was no big deal. "I've been friends with some of his exes. And every woman I've ever been friends with eventually—sometimes within about six seconds of meeting them—talks with other women about her sex life."

  "Oy."

  "Yeah. I really wasn't interested in hearing it, the first time especially, but I've gotten the same story from multiple women. And it's not really something you can unhear, like you can never unsee it if you accidentally see your parents having sex."

  "Oh God! I'm so sorry!"

  Brownie wasn't fazed by much, and even that hadn't bothered her for very long, once she got over the shock. "I was really surprised to find that out, frankly. He's such a gentleman, and very pro-female and women's rights and everything. But I guess you can never tell what anybody's into." Her eyes flitted to Jayne's, who was looking down. "But if you want to confirm my theory, all you have to do is either talk to him." She gave her friend a sly look. "Or you could pay for the groceries yourself."

  "Yeah," Jayne agreed absently. She was too wrapped up in what her mind was conjuring—at least, until Brownie began to speak again.

  "Can I tell you something else?" she asked quietly, and when Jayne looked up, it was to see that her bold, brash friend was actually biting her lip.

  "Something else about Pace?" she asked back, almost afraid to hear the answer.

  "No. About Hank."

  "Oh. Well, sure, of course."

  Then she watched as Brownie opened her mouth, but nothing came out.

  "Jesus, are you speechless? Let me grab my phone—I need to get a picture of this!"

  "Jayne, I'm serious. I'm hesitating because it so surprised me when it happened."

  "Oh, dear. I'm sorry. Is it that bad?"

  Her friend swallowed hard. "It's not bad, exactly, but, well, uh, Hank is into the same thing that my brother is."

  "Really?" It had to be true. She was blushing, which, unlike Jayne, was something Brownie rarely did. And she didn't seem very eager to confess it, either, which was also unusual for her friend.

  "Yeah. He and Pace were really close when they played together, and they're still really close, like we are. The distance or time apart doesn't matter—you just pick right back up where you left off the last time. He knew that Dad had spanked the both of us, although not very often, and he told Pace that he wanted to continue that tradition. Anyway, Hank and I talked about it, and he set some rules for me, and he, uh, spanks me. Pretty regularly, or as regularly as we get to see each other."

  Jayne couldn't even begin to process that bit of information, especially not on top of what she'd heard from—and about—Pace, and she said as much to her friend, "I have a heap of questions about this, but I can't at the moment. I just can't handle it right now."

  "I know, and I'm sorry if I've dumped too much on you." She reached out and pulled her friend into a hug.

  "I'm okay. I'm just going to have to digest this for a while."

  "That's understandable."

  For her part, Brownie figured that that might well be the nail in the coffin in regards to her brother and her best friend getting together. She couldn't see Jayne—after what she'd just been through—allowing any man to touch her for quite a while, much less spank her. Perhaps she shouldn't have told her what she knew, but if Pace was going to make cryptic remarks to her like that, Brownie felt she had a right to know.

  She knew that if they grew closer, Pace would definitely talk to Jayne about what he liked, but that comment had opened the doors a bit faster than he might have anticipated that it would.

  Jayne was quite conflicted about what she'd just learned about Pace, and she spent the day chewing on it more often than not—and much more often than she wanted to.

  When it came down to it, Jayne essentially dismissed what Brownie had told her about her relationship with Hank, because it wasn't really relevant to her own problems. It was interesting as all get out, and when she'd sorted herself out better, she was going to have to get Brownie soused and interrogate the crap out of her.

  But not now. She just couldn't with Brownie at the moment. She was having enough trouble with her sexy, handsome brother.

&
nbsp; If she was honest with herself, which she tried—and often failed—to be, spanking was something she had been into before Jake cured her of it. She had often fantasized—as she was growing up—about celebrities or fictional characters spanking her and being dominant with her. And although she knew Pace at that point, she'd never dared to fantasize about him.

  It had always been big guys, too. It appeared that she had a type, although, again, she figured that Jake had dissuaded her of that interest, too. Her attraction to Pace kind of belied that argument.

  She hadn't had sex with very many men before her husband had come into her life. He was her longest sex partner—if you could call it that. He was very rough with her, and at first, it was a novelty. She thought that perhaps she could confide to him what she was into and perhaps they could weave that into their sex life—mainly because she wasn't getting anything out of it. He manhandled her, fucked her, and then fell asleep. There was no foreplay, during play, and there was certainly no cuddling afterward.

  But the way he quickly began to treat her disabused her of ever wanting to confide anything to him, especially something so intimate. And he would use it as another weapon against her, she knew.

  What she craved was a Dom who was loving and affectionate, verbally and physically first and foremost but, also, firm and occasionally stern, who would take her to the heights she'd only read about online, in books, and fan fiction that catered to her interests.

  But she'd never experienced anything like that, even with the men she'd been with before Jake.

  And it had been a very long time since she had indulged herself in a fantasy where she was spanked. She couldn't get past Jake's abuse and allow herself to do so.

  But Pace…Pace was the exact opposite of Jake. He was everything she wanted in a man. But she didn't want to want him, and she definitely didn't want to want him to spank her. She didn't think.

  Jayne had to force herself to stop thinking about all of that and just get on with her day.

  She and Braeden headed into town after lunch. It was a very small place, but it had a surprisingly bustling, well cared for Main Street. The small market—Meserve's, Pace had said—was very small indeed, and, wary of what she knew was going to be the higher prices that she was inevitably going to encounter there, she pushed on to Casper herself, stopping at the first Albertson's she encountered.

  She didn't mind grocery shopping at all and was glad to be able to get some things that were specifically for the little guy. Luckily, he was already out of diapers, so that expense was gone. But he could be picky about fruit, so she got him some of the toddler versions of it from the baby food aisle, as well as some treats like fruit roll ups and mac and cheese, along with the rest of the things on the list.

  It was surprising to note that meat was almost entirely missing from the list, but then, they grew their own. The only things she got for meat were some deli products for lunches.

  Still, it wasn't cheap, but considering what she might have been paying for housing and utilities, not to mention groceries, she knew she was getting off cheap. But if she stayed here much longer, she was going to brave the siblings' anger and offer them rent, although she had a feeling that they were never going to let her pay them to stay there.

  By the time Pace got home, everything had been lugged in and put away, and she had a nice dinner for them bubbling away in the crock-pot.

  With Brownie gone, it was, again, very much as if they were a family, with Pace coming in the door and hanging his cowboy hat on the rack, Brae charging at him like a little freight train until his hero lifted him up into the air and spun him around.

  "If he pukes, it's on you, literally," Jayne warned as she watched him with a jaundiced—and experienced—eye while she filled out online job applications for everything from dog catcher, which she fervently hoped she didn't get because she'd want to bring every one home with her, to a waitress at the café in Bath, as well as lots of places in Casper, too, since it wasn't that far away. Certainly, one of them would work out.

  Pace chuckled at her comment then flew Brae into where his Momma was, putting him down so that he could go back to playing with his trucks on the floor.

  "How was your day?" he asked, loosening his tie.

  "It was good."

  "Where's Miss B?"

  "Gone to see Hank in Denver."

  "Ah—playing the Broncos."

  Jayne's face was a complete blank. "If you say so, although I don't know how well horses are going to play football."

  The big man groaned. "Well, I'm going to get changed, then someone I know is going to ride his first horse."

  Brae perked up visibly at that, and as always, he shadowed Pace right down the hallway and into his room. That man had the patience of a saint, which was a nice contrast to Jake.

  A few minutes later, he reappeared with the boy on his shoulders, clutching the "pitcher" he'd made of Lady at Pace's request. They hung it in a place of honor on the fridge, then, as they were heading out, he threw over his shoulder to her, "You gonna come watch, Momma?"

  "Yes, please," she answered pertly, tucking her phone into her pocket so she could take some videos and pics of his first ride.

  She leaned against one of the empty stalls as he took Lady out of hers, cross tied her, and began to groom her. He'd put the brushes and combs he was going to use on a bench at Brae's height and would ask him for specific ones, even going so far as to hold him up so that the boy could brush the horse, and praising him effusively when he was combing through the horse's tail.

  Braeden certainly couldn't carry a saddle, but he very proudly held the bridle until Pace needed to use it, then "helped" him walk the horse to the corral, where, at first, he had Brae tell him what the parts of the tack were, and Jayne, who had no idea he'd learned so much, was amazed at his recall.

  "Excellent! Very good job!" Pace said, high fiving Braeden when he'd answered nearly every one correctly. Then he swung himself into the saddle as if he'd been born there.

  "Hand him up to me, Jayne, would you?"

  Despite her trepidations, she did as he asked, and he put Lady through her paces while holding the child in front of him, murmuring things to him as he did so.

  Pace could feel that Jayne was fretting a bit, and it didn't help when he swung down off the horse not far from her, leaving her son perched all the way up there, all alone, although Pace was more than tall enough that he had his hands on the child at all times, just in case.

  "Hey," Pace caught her attention. "I promise you he's absolutely fine, Momma. I would never let him do anything that would hurt him. Why don't you take the lead and walk her for us? You look really nervous, and that'll get some of that energy out."

  She did, walking very slowly as he acted almost as training wheels for Braeden, although she could see that he didn't need his help much. All the while, Pace was constantly praising Braeden, as well as giving him gentle pointers about his seat and how his hands and feet were placed.

  It was wonderful to see him concentrating so hard on something, and learning so much at the same time.

  It wasn't a long lesson—they only went around the ring two or three times—but Pace didn't want to tire the kid out his first time—so he reached up and lifted him off after he'd only been riding for a very short time.

  The both of them could see that he wasn't at all happy with that, looking as if he was going to yell his head off at being on the ground instead of on the horse.

  But all it took was Pace saying in that authoritative tone of his, "Braeden," once.

  Her son looked up at him, his face a thundercloud, but Pace just met his eyes and stared back, and Braeden backed down. "Do you want to help me put her away, partner?" he asked.

  Distracted from his impending doom, Brae nodded enthusiastically.

  "Can I help, too?" Jayne asked.

  "Most definitely. Many hands, etcetera." He smiled at her.

  "I always love the smell of it in here," she commented, taking
a deep breath as they headed into the barn.

  "Yeah, 'it' is often quite pungent," he teased.

  "I find it weirdly familiar and soothing, even though I've never spent any time around horses before."

  "Maybe you were a cowboy in another life."

  "I hope I was an outlaw. Someone who had an exciting life, unlike my own."

  Pace looked surprised to hear that. "Well, lady outlaw, do you want to see if you can heft the saddle on to the sawhorse? It's pretty heavy," he said, pulling it off the horse as if it weighed nothing, "so maybe not."

  It was incredibly heavy for her, and she had to shuffle over to the sawhorse, with all of those straps and buckles hanging, ready to trip her.

  "Want help?" he offered, watching her as closely as he always did her son.

  "No, I'll do it myself, thanks," she grunted back at him.

  When she finally succeeded—after a couple of aborted attempts—he was looking straight at her and smiling broadly when she turned around. "What?"

  "I like watching you—you're very pugnacious and stubborn and determined. All characteristics I like in a woman."

  "I try to be," when I'm allowed, she added to herself. "Now what can I do?"

  He had them give the horse a light grooming, under his watchful eye, then he put Lady back into the stall, letting each of them give her a peppermint as a reward.

  That evening, they were eating the stew that she had made—and Pace was raving about it, especially the buttermilk cheddar and chive biscuits she served with it—when Brae accidentally knocked his small bowl of stew off the table while reaching for his glass of milk, and before anyone could react, he got himself down off his booster seat and ran, as fast as he could, into the bedroom he shared with his mother.

  Pace looked at Jayne, not in the least perturbed by what had happened, but genuinely concerned about the boy's reaction. "Is he okay?"

  Jayne knew exactly what the problem was, and it was a holdover from Jake's violent response when he'd done the same thing to his cereal bowl one morning. Jayne had taken the brunt of her husband's anger—as she always did—physically placing herself between him and his son.