Lone Star Blues. Delores Fossen

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      Dylan wanted to kiss her. Not in the way he wanted to kiss most attractive women. And Karlee was indeed attractive. But he didn’t feel that way about her.

      Plus, she was also in love with Lucian. Or in strong “like” anyway.

      She had felt that way about Lucian for as long as Dylan could remember. Why, he didn’t know. Apparently neither did Lucian because Dylan was positive that his thickheaded big brother had no idea whatsoever how his assistant felt about him.

      “Oh, and when you see Lucian,” she added, “it’s okay to talk about the celibacy-donation pact, but it’s best not to bring up anything about the rodeo itself.”

      Since that was an event Lucian looked forward to every year, her words surprised him. “Has he actually decided not to compete since he loses every year anyway?”

      Karlee shook her head. “Not a chance that he’d drop out of it. But first thing this morning, he was practicing his bronc riding skills and got thrown hard. His family jewels and pride took a bruising.”

      Dylan would definitely rub that in. It was the brotherly thing to do.

      He topped off his quart of coffee, thanked Karlee again and made his way to Lucian’s office, which was at the other end of the house from Dylan’s. Instead of feng shui, Dylan had gone with the “out of sight, out of mind” approach when choosing his work space. He got along best with Lucian when they weren’t in the same general vicinity.

      Lucian’s door was open, and before Dylan could even step inside, he heard his brother growl, “There was a bra and a dress on the front porch this morning.”

      Obviously, Lucian had missed the strappy silver shoes. “They’re mine.” Dylan said it with as much cockiness as he could manage. It also had more than a smidge of anger since he wasn’t especially happy with Lucian right now.

      “You’ve started cross-dressing?” Lucian managed some cockiness of his own.

      “Yeah, I started it right about the time you decided to get me to take a vow of celibacy when I was drunk.”

      “A vow you’ve already broken. There’s a naked or seminaked woman in your bedroom, isn’t there?”

      Since Lucian almost certainly knew the answer to that, Dylan went with the truth. “Yeah, but I don’t know who she is, and I didn’t have sex with her. I’m figuring you planted her there. Maybe even paid her.”

      Lucian gave him a flat look. “I wouldn’t have to plant or pay. Naked women gravitate toward you and your bed. I’ve even heard there’s a Dylan Granger Sex Bingo Game being played around the county.”

      Sadly, that last part was true.

      Tiffany Kelly, a cocktail waitress at the Longhorn Bar, had indeed started a bingo game that involved sex categories—specifically sex categories with Dylan—and she had distributed variations of the cards to women around town. The one card he’d seen had things on it like give Dylan a BJ, Dylan gives you a thigh hickey and a double orgasm from Dylan to you. Apparently, once a woman had her card filled, Tiffany would give them a drink on the house.

      So far, there’d been four winners.

      Okay, there were five, but one of them had cheated. No way had Susan Finkley had two orgasms since he’d had to work for nearly an hour to give her just one.

      While Dylan wasn’t especially proud of those winners or the game itself, it was obvious Lucian was only bringing it up to take the attention off the fact that he’d been a dick. A busy one. Because while he was riling Dylan with this conversation, he was also answering an email. And ignoring the three lights that were flashing on his office phone. Apparently, Dylan wasn’t the only person who wanted to have words with Lucian this morning.

      “I didn’t have sex with the woman in my bedroom,” Dylan repeated once he got his teeth unclenched. “But even if I had, there’s no way in hell I’d let you hold me to a promise that I made while I was drunk.”

      “You didn’t just make the promise to me. You sent a copy to Mom and your lawyer.”

      Well, shit. Dylan didn’t care about his lawyer knowing. He’d sent her drunk texts before. Heck, he’d had sex with her, too.

      But their mom, Regina, could be a problem.

      She was always nudging him to quit sleeping around and find Ms. Right. This was despite her own failed marriage that’d happened nearly two decades ago. Apparently, his mother wore a pair of massive invisible rose-colored glasses when it came to love and such. Dylan tended to see things a lot clearer than she did. Ironic because her marriage had been to an asshole. Dylan’s had been to, well, a woman who wasn’t an asshole.

      Jordan.

      Dylan hated how she just kept popping into his head. Even the remnants of the booze-haze didn’t stop it. Neither did sleep. Time. Or anything else he’d tried.

      He went closer to Lucian’s desk and leaned in so that his brother wouldn’t miss a word or any of the ice-ray glare he was giving him. “I don’t care if I sent that text to Santa Claus and the Tooth Fairy, it’s not a binding agreement. And it was pretty low-down and dirty for you to come up with it.”

      Lucian quit typing on his computer keyboard only long enough to spare him a glance. “It wasn’t my idea. It was yours.”

      Dylan just rolled his eyes because there was no way he would believe that.

      “It started off as a friendly conversation between Lawson and you,” Lucian continued after he huffed. “And Lawson mentioned your reputation around town and the sex bingo. Folks call you the cowboy rake, you know?”

      Yeah, he was well aware of that, too, though Dylan always tried to make sure that a commitment was never on the table, or in the bed, when it came to sex. He always hoped that would lessen the chances of a broken heart, but he knew it had happened a time or two.

      “How the heck did all of this lead to my celibacy?” Dylan pressed. He actually remembered snippets of the conversation from the night before, but the logic behind it—if there had ever been logic, that is—was lost in the clomping stampede that was still going on in his head.

      “I tried to convince Lawson that you could give up sex if you really wanted to do that,” Lucian went on. “He laughed. Actually, everyone in the Longhorn laughed. A lot. That’s when you got mad and said you’d show them, that you’d make a celibacy vow. Lawson’s the one who pressed for the vow to have consequences when you failed.”

      Clearly, he needed to have a chat with Lawson for egging him on to do something this stupid.

      “So, who came up with the charity donation?” Dylan demanded. “And are there any other specifics that I don’t know about?”

      Another shrug. “You’d have to ask Lawson. That’s about the time I left, and Lawson and you were still hashing things out.” Lucian’s huff was louder and more impatient this time. “Look, I’ve got three hours of work that I need to do in the next twenty minutes. Just finish sobering up, deal with the woman in your bedroom and don’t miss the meeting you’ve got first thing tomorrow morning with the new feed supplier.”

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