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“Whose tuxedo jacket is that?”
Cloe followed Liberty’s gaze and saw a black tuxedo jacket draped over a bale of hay. Rome’s tuxedo jacket. She hurried over and picked it up. “It must be Decker’s. I’ll make sure he gets it back. We wouldn’t want him being charged extra by the tux rental for being late returning it.” She didn’t look at her sister or her grandmother as she quickly made her way down the ladder.
Once she got back to the house, she quickly headed upstairs to her room to hide the tuxedo jacket in her closet until she could get it back to Rome. But before she hung it on a hanger, she couldn’t help holding it to her nose. It took numerous deep breaths before she could figure why Rome’s scent was so familiar.
He smelled like hay, horses, saddle leather, and country air.
He smelled like home.
Chapter Five
“Where the hell have you been?”
Rome stopped on his way up the stairs and turned to see his father standing just outside his study. Sam Remington was an imposing man. It wasn’t his size. At five foot ten inches and medium build, he was an average-sized man. His shoulders weren’t broad or his belly big. But when he stepped into a room, people took notice.
It could have to do with his strong facial features: the prominent nose and high cheekbones he’d inherited from his great-great-grandmother who was full Sioux. The piercing gray eyes that missed nothing. The thick shock of black hair that had started turning gray when Rome was in high school and was now as silver as a shiny nickel.
Or maybe it was more the confident way he held himself. The aura of authority and arrogance that came with running one of the biggest ranches in Texas.
Swagger is what Casey called it.
Sam had swagger in spades.
And impatience.
“Well, answer the question, Roman.”
“I just got home from Decker and Sweetie’s wedding.”
Sam glanced at his watch and then back at Rome. He didn’t have to say a word to get his point across.
“I fell asleep in the hayloft,” Rome explained.
Sam’s eyes narrowed. “Alone.”
“Actually, no.” Rome had no intentions of elaborating. While his father hadn’t said a word about him going to the Holidays’ for the wedding, he would have more than a few choice words to say if he found out Rome had spent the night with a Holiday.
Not just any Holiday, but the wallflower of the Holiday sisters.
Except Cloe hadn’t acted like a wallflower last night. Champagne had revealed a different woman beneath the reserved, and always controlled, façade. A woman who was more human and real . . . and sexy as hell.
It wasn’t just the realization she’d been hiding some phenomenal breasts. Before he had even opened his eyes that morning, his body had reacted to the woman in his arms. The sweet scent of some kind of subtle perfume filled his lungs. Silky hair tickled his nose. Low rhythmic breathing soothed his ears. A soft, full bottom spooned in his lap.
When he’d opened his eyes, he’d glanced down to see Cloe sleeping contentedly with her auburn hair half covering her face. He’d smoothed it back and she’d wrinkled her cute little nose and grumbled in her sleep before grabbing his hand and cradling it to her chest like her favorite teddy bear.
Desire, hot and heavy, had settled inside him. He’d tried to will it down, but then she’d started wiggling that curvy butt against him. At that point, all he could think about was lifting her dress and sliding inside her warm heat from behind—of cradling her magnificent breasts as he pumped out the passion building inside him like an oil well ready to erupt.
Before he had done something stupid, he woke her.
“So you’re telling me that you took a woman up to the Holidays’ hayloft and had sex with her?” His father’s annoyed voice cut into his thoughts. “During the reception?”
“Way to go, big bro!”
Rome glanced up. Casey stood at the top of the stairs looking like he’d just rolled out of bed. He wore nothing but his favorite Captain America boxers. His sandy hair stuck straight up and his light blue eyes were lit with a devilish light. He looked just like their mother. Glorieta’d had the same vibrancy and love of life . . . just not for her husband and sons.
“Good for you, Rome. It’s about damn time you got back in the saddle.”
Rome couldn’t help the smile that spread over his face. His little brother had that ability. As soon as his mother and father brought Casey home, Rome had claimed him as his own. They were as close as two brothers could be.
