Chapter Twenty-One

T he blast of a car horn from the constant stream of traffic flowing outside Layne's condo was far from the quiet of Golden Horizon.

Carson let out a groan.

She turned from the box she was packing full with her extensive shoe collection. "Doesn't the city energize you?"

"It makes me want to get back to the ranch."

She smiled and reached for the packing tape he'd just used to seal another box containing her high heels.

He carried the box over to the pile stacked at the door. "Just how many shoes do you own, Layne?"

"One hundred and sixty-one pairs."

"And you need these why?"

"I like having options."

His eyes hooded. "The only option I can see in your future is your feet in the air and my cock buried in you."

A laugh burst out of her, but her insides warmed at the dirty promise. He stepped up behind her and closed his hands on her hips. The steel of his erection against her ass made her wish she'd hired a moving company rather than come to New York City and pack it all herself.

She finished gliding the tape dispenser along the box, sealing it. Then tossed it aside on the bed to turn into Carson's arms.

"Have I told you how glad I am that you came with me?" She closed her hands on his bulging shoulders.

He didn't get a chance to answer because at that moment, Oaks walked into the bedroom. His brother threw up his hand as if to shield his vision.

"Can't you two save the lovey-dovey stuff for when you get home?"

Layne issued a giggle and broke away from her lover, but Carson reached for her hand, drawing her close to his side. Ever since she finished reading those letters, he had been glued to her. She couldn't figure out if he thought she needed the reassurance that he wasn't going anywhere—or if he needed the connection.

Either way, she welcomed every moment she spent with him.

Carson tipped his jaw toward the pile of boxes. "You can make yourself useful and carry those down to the moving van."

His brother ran a skeptical eye over the stack. "More shoes?"

Carson traded a look with him.

"All right, you two—no more judging my shoe collection." She folded her arms. "How many weapons do you guys own? I'd bet they cost a lot more than my shoes."

"I thought your woman was cultured, bro. Doesn't she know that a lady never asks about a man's guns?"

She rolled her eyes and returned to her closet, coming out with an armful of leather boots.

"I see we have our work cut out for us." With a resigned sigh, Oaks hefted two boxes into his arms and walked out the door.

Once they were alone, Carson snaked out an arm, hooking her around the waist. He hauled her up against his strong body. He brushed her hair aside and lowered his lips to the spot on her neck that drove her crazy every time he kissed it.

She released a coo of want. "I wonder what it would take to get rid of your brother."

"When he comes back, I'll hand him some cash for a hooker."

She tossed her head on a laugh. "I'm pretty sure that none of the Malones ever have to pay for sex."

"Oh, you'll pay, doll." He bit down on her neck, making her writhe. When he sucked lightly, she issued a roughened cry.

She raked her fingers through his hair and closed her eyes on the sensation of his tongue smoothing over her flesh.

"We'd better keep packing. We can't stay parked out front for-ev-er." Her words hitched as he nibbled on her earlobe.

"Hmm. You're right. Forget about the shoes. Where's your lingerie drawer?" He released her.

Another laugh bubbled out. When he crossed to her dresser and reached for the top drawer, she jumped in front of it, barring him.

"What are you hiding from me, doll?"

She chewed on her bottom lip. "Nothing much. Just…socks."

He cocked a brow. "Sexy knee socks?"

She bobbed her head.

"You never were good at lying." He picked her up and set her down a foot away so he could get at the drawer.

When he opened it, and her vibrator rolled to the front, heat crept into her cheeks.

A grin broke over his face. "What do we have here ?"

"I've been alone for a long time, okay? Hooking up isn't that easy."

"You won't be needing it now, but we should still pack it."

"For?"

He shrugged and tossed it at the open box on the bed. It sank into the depths, vanished from sight. "We can have some fun with it."

"Just don't let your brother see. He's already annoyed at my shoe collection."

"Oaks can suck it up."

She let out a resigned sigh and turned toward the closet to gather more shoes.

Carson snagged her by the wrist.

She stopped, swinging her head to look at him.

He looked…

Perspiration popped out on his forehead. He ran his tongue over his lip.

"Carson? Are you feeling all right? Was it the spicy chicken wings we had for lunch?"

He shook his head. "Not the wings, doll. It's this." He slipped something onto her ring finger.

Her eyes popped open wide, and she jerked in shock. "Carson!"

In a smooth glide, he dropped to one knee. Eyes overflowing with love, he searched her face. "Layne. It's been a long time coming, but my love for you is even more intense now than it was back then."

Her heart did a tap dance in her chest.

"Will you be my wife?"

She opened her mouth, but a sound came from the open bedroom doorway.

Carson groaned. "You've got to be kidding me. Could your timing get any worse?"

Oaks made a gesture for him to continue proposing to her.

Carson turned his focus back to Layne. She stared down into his eyes. After the interruption, she didn't know who was supposed to speak next.

"I asked you to marry me," he prompted her.

Oh yes.

"Yes!" A sob rushed up her throat. She threw herself at him. He swooped to his feet and lifted her in the same move. Their lips crashed together. On his tongue she tasted hope and the promise of a lifetime to come.

He slid the ring to the base of her finger, completing the proposal.

"I…love…you!" she whispered between kisses.

He carried her over to the door and kicked it shut in Oaks's face. His brother's chuckle faded away.

* * * * *

Oaks jogged toward the main entrance of the building. "Hold the door!" The boxes weren't heavy but carrying two bulky objects made opening the door difficult.

A man in a polo shirt and khaki pants caught the glass and metal door before it could shut and drew it open wide enough for Oaks to slip out.

"Thanks, man."

"Moving?" He smiled. The first friendly person that Oaks had seen in the whole damn city. This was why he stayed in the country except for the times he was forced out. Like now.

He gave the guy a nod and lifted the boxes an inch. Showing off a little? Yeah. The guy didn't look like he could lift more than a martini glass.

"Shoe collection."

"That's the worst. Well, good luck." He walked away.

Oaks continued to the van he'd parked in the no-parking zone. He gave zero fucks about city restrictions. Besides, they wouldn't be here that long.

Traffic crawled by. Horns blared. Overhead, pigeons took flight from the rooftop, their flapping wings as close to the sound of nature as he'd get. He was pretty sure he was getting hives just being here. How did he let Carson talk him into this again?

He walked to the back of the van, and balancing the boxes on his knee and the side of the van, he fished out the key fob and unlocked the vehicle. As he shoved the boxes inside and organized them so they could fit even more of Layne's shoes, a siren whooped from behind.

"Great."

With an annoyed glance over his shoulder, he saw the lights of a police cruiser and let out a groan.

One thing Oaks knew how to do was talk his way out of trouble. He'd spent his childhood blaming his brothers for things he did and getting away with it. He had this.

Closing the back doors, he swung toward the officer who was climbing out of his cruiser.

From the corner of his eye, Oaks noticed a couple walking by. Not just walking— rushing.

Her long legs could barely keep up with the man who had a death grip on her elbow.

Something made Oaks turn his head to watch her. At that very moment, she looked at him too.

She looked him dead in the eyes and mouthed: Help me!

Her blue eyes were wide with terror. Her face white.

Oaks only hesitated for a single heartbeat before running after them. "Hey! Wait up!"

The man spotted him and shot into the crowd of pedestrians crossing the busy street, the woman dragged in his wake.

The cop was shouting for Oaks to get on the ground.

Fixated on the back of the woman being hauled into a sleek black car on the other side of the street, he watched the man grip her streaky blonde hair, twisting it in his fist as he forced her into the car.

Without a backward glance, the guy jumped behind the wheel and they took off.

Oaks whipped around and ran to the driver's door of the van. He leaped in, starting the engine before his ass hit the seat.

Just as the police officer appeared in the side window, he stomped on the gas and took off, doing a U-turn in the street that sent people scattering in all directions.

The chase was on—and Oaks didn't mean the cop speeding after him.

That woman needed his help—the plea was clear in her eyes and panic was shadowing her face when she looked straight at him.

As he barreled around a corner, the neatly stacked boxes in the back of the van tumbled to the floor. Layne and his brother would have to wait to finish packing.

He had a woman to rescue.

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