9781618850478TwoForThePriceOfOneSullivan

  Two For The Price Of One

  Montana Cowboys 3

  Sandy Sullivan

  EROTIC ROMANCE

  Secret Cravings Publishing

  www.secretcravingspublishing.com

  ABOUT THE E-BOOK YOU HAVE PURCHASED: Your non-refundable purchase of this e-book allows you to only ONE LEGAL copy for your own personal reading on your own personal computer or device. You do not have resell or distribution rights without the prior written permission of both the publisher and the copyright owner of this book. This book cannot be copied in any format, sold, or otherwise transferred from your computer to another through upload to a file sharing peer to peer program, for free or for a fee, or as a prize in any contest. Such action is illegal and in violation of the U.S. Copyright Law. Distribution of this e-book, in whole or in part, online, offline, in print or in any way or any other method currently known or yet to be invented, is forbidden. If you do not want this book anymore, you must delete it from your computer.

  WARNING: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000."

  If you find a Secret Cravings Publishing e-book being sold or shared illegally, please let us know at publisher@secretcravingspublishing.com

  Secret Cravings Publishing Book

  Erotic Romance

  TWO FOR THE PRICE OF ONE (MONTANA COWBOYS 3)

  Copyright © 2011 by Sandy Sullivan

  E-book ISBN: 978-1-61885-047-8

  First E-book Publication: October 2011

  Cover design by Beth Walker

  Edited by April L'Orange

  Proofread by Belinda Barton

  All cover art and logo copyright © 2011 by Secret Cravings Publishing

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED: This literary work may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including electronic or photographic reproduction, in whole or in part, without express written permission.

  All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.

  PUBLISHER

  Secret Cravings Publishing

  www.secretcravingspublishing.com

  Dedication

  This addition to the Montana Cowboys series is dedicated to my mother, Catherine Mauch. She was my biggest fan and read every one of my books. She told me once if she would have been 30 years younger, she would have been all hot and bothered after she read one of them. I lost her unexpectedly in May of this year at the age of 81.

  Thanks for being there and believing in me, Mom. May God keep you by his side until we see each other again someday.

  TWO FOR THE PRICE OF ONE

  Montana Cowboys 3

  Sandy Sullivan

  Copyright © 2011

  Chapter One

  Emma Weston tapped her fingers on the steering wheel of her old truck and sang along to the song on her radio. Singing wasn't her thing, but she loved many of the country bands, their songs and the singers. Man, did she love the singers. The gorgeous guy hanging on her wall at home, Brandon Tucker, was her favorite. She'd give about anything to meet him. Every wet dream she'd ever had centered on his gorgeous body.

  Her cell phone interrupted her daydreams of said hunk—Brandon Tucker's voice sang "The Love of My Life," which happened to be her absolute favorite, as the call from Becky came in.

  She hit the talk button on the phone sitting in the plastic cup holder attached to her dashboard and asked, "Hey, Bec. What's up?"

  "You're going to the rodeo this weekend, right?"

  "Yeah," she said, glancing in her rearview mirror out of habit. Her dad constantly scolded her about being aware of her surroundings. You never knew when a stray cow, horse, goat, or some other farm animal might wander into the road. Life in rural Montana came with all kinds of accidents involving animals. "I'm ridin' remember?"

  "I forgot. You know how scattered brained I am sometimes," Becky answered.

  Emma laughed. "I know, but I love you anyway, Bec." She and Becky had been best friends since kindergarten. "Are you working the beer stand with me?"

  "Yeah. Seth asked me to fill in."

  "I don't know why you two don't just start datin' and get it over with. You've been moonin' over each other for a year now."

  "I can't, Em, you know that. He's too old for me. My daddy would have a cow."

  "He's only a few years older than you," she said, giving Becky the same speech she'd already given her over and over regarding the very sexy Seth Reardon who owned the local honky-tonk. "We're both in our mid-twenties, and Seth is in his early thirties."

  "It seems kind of weird though."

  "Oh, I don't think it is at all. Just don't think of him being older. I mean, look at me. If I could rope Brandon Tucker, I'd be there in a heartbeat, and he's five years older than me."

  "Not even a comparison, Em. He's gorgeous, rich, hot, and one of the biggest country music stars to hit the stage in years. He may even be bigger than George."

  "No one is bigger than George, but Brandon has it all goin' on. I mean, if I could have ten minutes— Holy fuck!"

  The screech of tires as Emma yanked on the steering wheel of her truck and slammed on the brakes echoed along the lonely stretch of highway between her parents' place and town. The crunch of metal and the hiss of her radiator when the fluid inside gushed from the cracked engine rang in her ears as she shook her head and peered out the windshield.

  "Emma? Emma, talk to me." Becky's almost hysterical voice came out of the plastic container, now on the floorboard.

  "I'm okay, Becky. Do me a favor though and call the police, and have them come out to… Shit. I'm not even sure what intersection I'm at."

  "They'll find you. Don't worry. I'll call right now. You were on your way to town from your parents', right?"

  "Yeah."

  "Hang tight. They'll be there soon."

  "Thanks, Bec," Emma replied, listening while the phone disconnected when Becky hung up.

  Emma hit the snap on her seat belt to unhook it and then pulled the handle on her door while she pushed against it, trying to get herself out of the truck. It groaned and creaked like a little old man's bones when he tried to stand up, but it finally opened, and she crawled out.

  Shielding her eyes from the glare of the Montana sun in the middle of August, she saw the front end of a massive brown and black bus with fancy scrolling on the side smashed into the front of her pickup. "Crap. Dad will kill me for this."

  "Are you all right?"

  Emma turned around quickly only to have spots form in front of her eyes and her head begin to spin.

  "Whoa. Easy there, darlin'."

  The deep, rich, smooth as silk voice and the feel of strong hands cupping her elbow to hold her steady had her looking up into a set of dark brown eyes framed by the longest eyelashes she'd ever seen. Only one person she knew had those pretty eyes, and he graced the wall of her bedroom. Collar-length dark hair, windblown by the rustling prairie gusts, wide chest with mouthwatering muscles straining his black T-shirt, trim hips holding up the low-riding jeans, and dusty cowboy boots—holy shit!

  "Brandon Tucker?"

  "Never mind who I am, honey. You're bleedin' from the cut on your head," the man replied, pulling a handkerchief from his back pocket and pressing it to her forehead. "Hold this on there a minute. It'll help stop the blood."

  "What the hell is goin' on here?" an angry voice said from several feet away. "Damn it, Beau."

  "Beau?" she asked, totally confused as the
second man came storming in their direction from near the door of the bus.

  Wait a damn minute here. There are two of them? No way! Two Brandon Tuckers?

  "Sorry, darlin'," the first man replied before pushing her down on the bumper of her truck. "Stay there a minute while I deal with him." He walked back toward the agitated man and said, "Knock it off, Brandon. It was an accident. I didn't see the stop sign."

  The two men moved toward the front of the vehicles, but Emma could still hear the angry voices.

  "An accident? Fuck! Look at the front of the bus. Shit, shit, shit. This is gonna take days to fix, and we're out in the middle of bumfuck Montana, Beau. How do you suppose we're going to get this fixed in time for me to be in South Dakota next week, huh? I have a show to do."

  "I realize that, Brandon. Stop acting like the spoiled star and listen to me for a minute. There's nothin' we can do about it right at the moment. They're gonna have to tow both of these into town, and we'll deal with it after we talk to a mechanic."

  "We don't have a body shop big enough to handle a bus, but we aren't far from Billings. You could possibly have them tow it there," she said as she stopped next to them and held out her hand. "I'm Emma Weston, and if I'm not mistaken, one of you is Brandon Tucker. Care to explain to me why there are two of you? Or am I seeing double because of the crack in my skull."

  "Brandon, quit being a jerk. She's hurt for cryin' out loud," Beau snapped and then turned back toward her. "Sorry, honey. You really should be sittin' down or somethin'. Concussions can really suck. I know. I've had a few."

  "Thanks, but I'm fine. Now, explain why there are two of you."

  "It's not common knowledge, but yes, there are two of us. We're twins," Beau replied, running his hand through his dark hair.

  "Identical?"

  "Well, duh." The smart remark came from Brandon as he leaned against the bus and crossed his arms over his chest.

  She glared at him and then turned her attention back to the first guy.

  "I'm Beau, and you're correct. He's Brandon Tucker."

  "The Brandon Tucker?"

  "Well, d…" Brandon started, but snapped his mouth shut when Beau glared.

  "It's nice to meet you, Emma. I wish it had been under better circumstances," Beau said, taking her hand between his. "How's your head?"

  Emma could hear the distant blare of police sirens getting closer, telling her several cop cars or at least one car and an ambulance were close. "It hurts, but it'll be fine." She glanced over her shoulder as one of the police cars skidded to a stop, followed by two more. Damn. The entire Red Rock police force is out here. All three of them. "I'll take your handkerchief home and wash it for you. It's got blood all over it."

  The police officer jumped out of his car and slid to a halt at her side. "Emma? Are you all right?"

  Great. I do not need the overprotective, whinny Alex right now. "I'm fine, Alex. Just a bump on the head."

  "I'm calling an ambulance. You need to get checked out at the doctor."

  "No. I don't want to go to the hospital."

  "Your daddy will have my hide if you don't get checked out, Emma. I'd rather keep it, if you know what I mean."

  "I'll deal with my dad, Alex."

  "What happened, anyway?" Alex asked, shoving his sunglass up on top of his head.

  Emma tried not to giggle at the sight, but with Alex's premature balding, the sunglasses made him look like a beetle with his eyes on top of his head. He really was a nice guy, and he'd had a crush on her since high school. Unfortunately, she couldn't even think of him in any sort of a romantic way. He would always be Alex the tuba player from band.

  She glanced again at the two gorgeous hunks standing nearby with their hands in the pockets of their rugged jeans and T-shirts molded to identical sculpted chests. Never in her life had she thought she'd have a chance to meet Brandon Tucker, and here she stood with two of them. Two? How come I've never heard of him having an identical twin brother? I know everything about Brandon Tucker, from the size of his shoes to the brand of underwear he wears.

  Beau caught her gaze with his, and the sexy little twitch of his lips as a small smile spread across his face made her blush and go hot all over. Blood rushed to her head, and she felt woozy again, but this time she wasn't sure if it was from the bump or the hot look from Beau.

  Next, she took in his brother. The Brandon Tucker. The one man who tantalized her dreams at night with wet kisses, hot licks, and the oh-so-gorgeous body. So far, Brandon's attitude left something to be desired. He definitely acted like the spoiled music artist as she listened to him talk to the police officer taking his statement.

  "I really think this whole accident is her fault, officer. She couldn't have been paying much attention if she missed a vehicle the size of this bus. I mean, she ran right into us."

  "Excuse me?" she said, moving closer when she heard his words. "You ran the stop sign. I don't have a stop sign on my side of the road, buster."

  "She's right, Brandon."

  "Shut up, Beau. Let me handle this."

  "Don't you tell him to shut up, you overbearing, think you know it all, spoiled pain in the ass. Just because you're a country music star doesn't mean shit out here. I live in this town, and your money and your fame aren't going to get you anywhere." Indignation raced through her blood at Brandon's high-handed attitude.

  Beau's lips twitched as he stepped back to watch. Emma wasn't sure how she felt about him letting her do all the standing up to his brother, but right now, she didn't care.

  "Listen here," the officer said, but backed off when Emma got right in Brandon's face.

  The CD player in her truck started playing, for no apparent reason, and what else came on? Brandon's newest CD.

  "A fan?" Brandon mocked, one eyebrow choked arrogantly over his left eye as he stood nose-to-nose with her.

  "Not anymore," she snarled and then walked to the side of her truck. With the window down, she crawled inside, popped the disc from the player, and walked back to Brandon's side. "See this?"

  "Yeah," he growled.

  The cocky grin on his face disappeared when she snapped the disc in half, pulled her arm back, and flung the pieces into the nearest wheat field.

  * * * *

  Emma Weston had him, Beau Tucker, tied up in knots the moment she crawled out of her wrecked truck. Her soft, singsong voice wrapped itself around his nuts and squeezed, reminding him exactly how long it had been since he'd found a woman worth fucking—not some buckle bunny and not some music groupie, but a real, honest-to-goodness woman.

  When she'd come out of nowhere and he'd hit her truck with his brother's bus, he'd been scared to death someone in the vehicle might be badly hurt. Thank goodness she wasn't. The wound on her head might need a stitch or two, but she was walking, talking, and cussing with the best of them. Standing at probably five foot six or so, she would fit right nicely against his six foot frame. Her willowy body, long brown hair, and big blue eyes left him wondering exactly what she'd look like in nothing but a sexy thong.

  "Fan or not, Brandon Tucker, you're a jerk," she snapped and then turned on her heel to walked toward Beau. "I'm sorry, Beau. Is he always like that?"

  He shrugged and said, "It depends. I'm used to it, I guess." A quick glance at his brother revealed his narrowed eyes resting on Emma. "I think he had a bit too much to drink last night after the show we did in Idaho. He's probably hung over."

  "Hung over or not, it's no excuse for being rude."

  Hoping he'd have a chance to get to know Emma better, and knowing Brandon would be a part of anything they started, he said, "Give him a chance, Emma. He's really a nice guy most of the time."

  "Hmrph."

  A short laugh burst from his lips when Emma made the little pouty sound and folded her arms. "You're cute when you pout."

  "I'm not pouting."

  Before he could stop himself, he smoothed his thumb over her bottom lip and said, "Yes, you are."

  Her pretty blu
e eyes dilated, and her breathing sped up, making her tempting breasts rise and fall with each breath. By her reaction to his touch, he could almost believe she felt the attraction between them too, and for once he realized it wasn't Brandon she wanted this time. Whenever he met a woman he had to wonder if she actually wanted him, or if it was because he looked just like his brother, the infamous Brandon Tucker. With his brother's attitude sometimes, you would think Brandon was the older of the two of them by ten minutes and not him.

  Unfortunately for him, Brandon got the voice and Beau got shit. Well he shouldn't say that, really, since he also got the rugged good-looks, dark brown eyes, nice smile, and hard body like his brother. Except Beau turned out to be the nice guy, and Brandon had turned into the spoiled star as women threw themselves at him, begging for attention. Brandon used them and tossed them away like yesterday's garbage most of the time. His brother's behavior bothered Beau. Women meant more to him than a passing one night stand, even if he hadn't found the one girl he wanted to spend the rest of his life with.

  Born and raised on a ranch in eastern Montana, they both knew the meaning of hard work, long days, and pushing horns. From an early age, Brandon stood out amongst the crowd. He'd started singing at rodeos, fairs, competitions, and anywhere else he could find an audience. Beau'd tagged along with his brother, managing Brandon's money and his career, and keeping him out of fistfights with jealous boyfriends. Today, he'd had been behind the wheel of the bus due to their driver's having a family emergency back home.

  "I'm real sorry about the accident, Emma," he murmured, wishing he could pull her in closer and feel her lips under his.

  "It's okay," she whispered, her breathing shallow and her face flushed with what he hoped might be excitement and curiosity. Her tongue came out to lick her lips, catching the pad of his thumb in the process and sending white hot need straight to his dick.