Breathe for Me (The Langston Brothers Duet #1)

by Brittany Ann

“You shouldn’t be wearing those,” I murmured, my voice low and rough from no sleep. My eyes were on her feet, still wrapped from the night before.

“I’ll manage.” Then she stuck out her hand to me. “Mr. Langston, I would like to thank you for helping me yesterday. You and I have not gotten along but you still brought me into your home and for that—” “What the fuck are you doing?”

“I was trying to be professional,” she stammered. “Woman, you saw me kill a man yesterday. I think we’re well past that,” I deadpanned. She flinched but recovered quickly. “Goodbye, Mr. Langston.”

“Please,” I said, holding up my hand. It was shaking. Shit. Beau’s eyes darkened as his brow furrowed. “Valerie, I’m not going to hurt you.” “Please, just leave me alone. I’m leaving now. You won’t ever have to see me again,”

“Leave her be, Beau.” That voice. That deep, rough, intoxicating voice washed over me. I turned my head to see my dark cowboy, standing on the porch, leaning against the railing, a cup of coffee in his hand. His smoke was coming for me once more.

“This is crazy,” I whispered. Then, I spun to get into the car but something—someone—caught my eye. Mr. Langston was now at the bottom of the steps, coffee forgotten, staring at me. “Drive safe, will ya, City Girl?” I didn’t answer him. When I pulled out into the drive, though, I looked back. I shouldn’t have looked back. Because his smoke followed.

I had laid in a murderer’s bed, thinking about how good his touch felt, how good it was to be taken care of, despite everything that I’d witnessed. Then, this morning, when I walked down those stairs, I was mentally ready to give myself a clean break. I would be professional and leave. Unfortunately, Denver Langston didn’t give me the chance to do that. Woman, you saw me kill a man yesterday. I think we’re well past that.

Thus, he used his money to his advantage, by doing some digging. He found what he needed. He sweet talked the woman named Cathy, the mother of Denver Langston’s son. She was also the former fiancé of Mason Langston, the second son of the Langston family. Mason Langston was a professional bull rider and wanted nothing to do with Hallow Ranch. That worked for Mr. Moonie just fine. One less brother to deal with. Hallow Ranch would be his soon enough.

OH SHIT.

“You looking for that woman, Dad?” I turned around to find Caleb sitting on his stool. Narrowing my eyes at him, I took a long sip of my water. “Who are you talking about, son?” Caleb blinked and then shrugged. “The pretty one who pisses you off?” My eyebrows rose. “Who in the—”

Of course he knew.

“No one important, son.” “Is she the one you went out in the storm for?” he asked. I would go out into any storm for her. Rain or hellfire. Fuck me. I looked out the window again. “Yes, son.” “I’m glad you were there for her, Dad. Not a lot of people get to be saved by a man like you,”

Life was good. Life was back to normal. Normal was good in my book. Normal was running this ranch on my own. Normal was watching my brother achieve his dreams on a screen—refusing to come home. Normal was having my boy with me, learning from me. Normal was shooting the shit with the boys in the bunkhouse after a long day. Normal was drinking a glass of whiskey on the front porch, alone. Normal was going to bed alone. Normal was travelling to a different state once a quarter to fuck some woman in a bar and leave right after without learning her name. Normal was her being gone. I didn’t want normal anymore. She invaded my life weeks ago, and I wanted her to stay in it. I wanted to keep telling her “no” and get her to shout “yes” while she was under me in my bed. I wanted that stupid rental car back. I wanted those green eyes back on me.

I wanted her to tell me what “Smoke” meant. I wanted to know why she didn’t want me to be cold. I wanted to know why she let me take care of her. I wanted to know why she ran to the bunkhouse after hearing those gunshots and not away from it. I wanted to know her fucking name.

“Kings.” I looked back to Mags. Even though we didn’t serve together, we were both Marines. That made us brothers. We had shared a lot over whiskey and campfires since he came to Hallow Ranch, war stories and such. I trusted this man with my life. So, when he held my eyes and said, “Something isn’t right.” My gut believed him. Something wasn’t right. Cathy came to the ranch twice in one day. It reeked of desperation and something else. “You’re getting that feeling, aren’t you?”

I was going to get drunk tonight. Then, I was going back to my hotel room, getting naked and playing with myself while imagining smoke gray eyes and strong arms. That’s what I was going to do.

Despite being tall, he didn’t have the ability to make me feel small, not like Denver did.

I paid my tab quickly and headed for the door, ignoring the creepy man. The hotel was just half a block down the way…

Oh no.

“Jesus, where in the hell has that guy been?” I mumbled, watching the blonde haired, tattooed player spin his bat while smiling up at the crowd. Last I heard, he played for the Chicago Cubs—five years ago. “Who is that, Dad?”

Reference to the Batter Up series??

“Jigs, what the hel—” “Pretty girl is in trouble,”

“What are you talking about?” I hissed. “Green eyes, Denver. She’s in trouble.”

“Where?” “In town. You need to get there fast. She went into David’s.” “David’s is a bar, Jigs.” “His friend followed her inside.”

For the second time, I was running after my green-eyed woman. For the first time, I was actually scared shitless.

I ran. Boots to the fucking ground, I ran. My pistol was in the waistband of my jeans, and I knew there was a very strong chance I might have to kill a man tonight, especially if that man touched her. No one was allowed to touch her. Except me. I heard a muffled scream from the small alleyway behind the local diner. I came to a halt when I rounded the corner. Green eyes.

She was pressed against the wall, front first, a man’s hand in her hair, his other hand was trying to push down her jeans. “Denver!” she cried. I saw red. Blood. Fucking. Red.

“You don’t touch my woman. You don’t look at my woman. You don’t think about her green eyes. You don’t think about her pretty hair. You don’t think about her enchanting face.”

After a moment, he nodded, still shaking. I released him with a growl and stepped back as the man pulled his pants up. Then he made a grave mistake. He twisted around and looked directly at her. His eyes took in her body and decided to claim it as his. I told him not to look or think about her. He disobeyed.

She was trembling, her arms wrapped around herself. Her green eyes met mine and I said, “Baby, close those eyes for me.” “Den—” “Close ‘em, baby,” I demanded gently.

He stood at the end of the alley in jeans, a Carhart jacket, and his cowboy hat. Even though I couldn’t see in the shadows, I knew his blue eyes were on her. He had been kind to her, spoke to her, made her fucking laugh. All I’d done was scared her and insult her. She still had her eyes closed; her head bent in fear and submission.

I moved to her, ignoring the sounds of the dead weight being shifted behind me. Her shirt was crooked, her hair everywhere, and her jeans were unbuttoned. Her face was red, cheeks wet with tears. “Look at me,” I demanded. My body was humming with rage, and I was trying to tone it the fuck down to be gentle with her. She needed gentle. I needed more blood, more screams. I wished I could bring the fucker back to life and take my time, torture him, make him scream like he wanted to make her scream. Her head snapped up, green eyes on me. “Stay lookin’ at me.” She did as I told her, and my hands drifted down. I righted her shirt ignoring the burn that her skin left on mine, and pulled her hair over her shoulders so it was flowing down her back again. Then my hands went lower as I buttoned her jeans gently.

“You got shit at the hotel?” I asked. She nodded, confusion lingering in her green eyes. “Let’s go.”

She handed me her key, from the back pocket of her jeans. I got out and moved around to open the door for her, but she was already sliding out. I didn’t like that. I stepped forward, crowding her against the door of the truck. She was breathing heavily, her chest heaving but she didn’t have fear in her eyes. No, there was something else lingering in her green. Something I should run away from. But I couldn’t. Not now.

“You don’t get out of the truck until I open the door for you, understand?” I growled. “Denver—” “Do you understand me?”

“Get your stuff together.” “I have to stay here tonight,” she said. I looked at her. “You aren’t staying here tonight.” “But—” “Pack your shit.” “I don’t check out until tomorrow morning,”

“You’re leaving?” I asked, folding my arms over my chest. She looked over at me and all of a sudden, she looked exhausted, worn down. The adrenaline from a few minutes ago must have worn off, which was surprising. “I have to.”

I didn’t like that she was leaving. I didn’t like that she was leaving, and I wouldn’t have known.

You're not entitled to know dude.

“You didn’t convince me,” I returned, raising a brow. She huffed a laugh. It wasn’t pleasant; it seemed forced. I watched her as she ran a hand through her hair, looking around. “Trust me, I know I didn’t do my job. I don’t need you reminding me.” “So, you’re just giving up?” She shook her head, looking away from me. “No.” “Then why are you leaving?” I asked, stepping closer to her. Her eyes met mine again. “I got fired this morning,” she said, her voice monotone, unfeeling. I jerked. “That son of a bitch fired you because I refused to sell my ranch?” She moved to look out the window. “Yep.”

“Was this your first assignment or something?” I pressed. She turned to me. “No. I was very good at the job. The woman I replaced got fired after her first rejection too. I was hired, trained, and sent to the ranch that rejected her,” she paus...

“Mr. Langston, I wanted to thank you for what you...

“I can never repay you. You saved my life tonight. You saved me the other day. For that, I am grateful.” I stared at her. This woman witnessed me murder two men this week and now she was talking to me like we...

“I have to be out of the hotel by morning, and I have to book my flight tonight. I have to wake up early and drive to Denver. As much as I appreciate you helping me,...

“That may be true, and on that matter, my lips are sealed.” I stilled. “Excuse me?” “What happened this week ...

“You aren’t staying here tonight,” I said firmly, moving to grab her suitcase. I brought it to the bed and unzipped it. I ignored the red lace peeking out from beneath one o...

I was moving, closing the distance between us. Without a second thought, I grabbed her chin between my fingers, and tilted her head up. Her eyes were wide as she sucked in a ...

“You called me Denver in that alley. You called me Denver in my truck. You will only call me Denver from now on, is t...

“You don’t get to tell me what to do!” “Baby, I’ll gladly take you ove...

“Pack your shit. I have to ma...

I never expected my dark cowboy. His smoke was all around me, cloaking me, protecting me from that vile man.

“Gosh, you are really pretty.” I jumped, letting out a slight yelp. I spun, hand on my chest, only to find my dark cowboy’s son sitting on the bar. Had he been there the whole time? Jesus, he did look like his father.

I thanked him and went to the fridge. It was filled with fresh produce, dairy products, eggs and meat. I fixed my cup of coffee and noticed there was a clean spoon on the counter too. I smiled at the thoughtfulness. He’d set the mug and spoon out for me.

I turned and leaned against the counter as I took a sip. The rich taste hit my tongue, and I had to hold back a groan. This was some good coffee. “Wow, this is—” “Dad gets his coffee from the farmer’s market,” the boy said, looking up at me. “It’s really good.” “I hope when I turn eighteen, coffee tastes good to me, because it tastes like dirt right now,”

“I don’t want to drink coffee, but Mags says every man needs a cup of coffee in the morning and then a glass of whiskey at night.” “Mags?” I asked. “...