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Triple K Set
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Table of Contents
Title Page
CREDITS
ORDER OF BOOKS
DEDICATION
Knockin’ Boots
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Playin’ With Fire
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIERTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CHAPTER NINETEEN
CHAPTER TWENTY
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
CHAPTER TWENY-FOUR
CHAPTER TWENY-FIVE
CHAPTER TWENY-SIX
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Baitin’ The Hook
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELEVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Blazin’ A Trail
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTERTHIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CHAPTER NINETEEN
CHAPTER TWENTY
PRELUDE TO Getting’ Hitched
About J.L. Beck
About Cassandra Bloom
COWBOYS & CURVES
Triple K Series
COLLECTION
CREDITS
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
This is a work of fiction. All characters, places, businesses, and incidents are from the author’s imagination, or they are used fictitiously and are definitely fictionalized. Any trademarks or pictures herein are not authorized by the trademark owners and do not in any way mean the work is sponsored by or associated with the trademark owners. Any trademarks or pictures used are specifically in a descriptive capacity.
No portion of this book may be reproduced in any form (electronic or print) without permission from the author. Please do not participate in piracy or violating the author’s rights.
©Copyright, 2018
Editor: Lea Ellen Borg
Book Design & Formatting: Wicked Muse
Cover Art Provided By: Talia’s Book Covers
ORDER OF BOOKS
Knockin’ Boots Book One
Playin’ With Fire Book Two
Baitin’ The Hook Book Three
Blazin’ A Trail Book Four
DEDICATION
I would like to dedicate this set to My Best Friend in Books and Editor of this series, Lea Ellen Borg.
She is gone from this earth now and her passing punched a hole into my world.
But she is in these books, every line and every page that she edited within.
So to me, she is still with me, in the magic of books.
Knockin’ Boots
Triple K Series
BOOK ONE
CHAPTER ONE
“Both Barrels”
Brea watched him walk to the parking lot. Darkness helped to cover her presence and her shameful stalking. Rolling her eyes, she knew this was an awful thing to do in the first place. Pitiful is what it was all right. She could just hear her Momma’s voice tisking in that way she had when she was disgusted.
Watching from the corner, she viewed him getting into his truck. His powerful legs just seemed to launch him up and in through the high door. Yeah, a huge Ford F-150. Mighty as Texas trucks go, and just as mighty as he was.
He started the big engine and pulled out in a cloud of Flatonia dust.
Standing in the dark part of the side building, she stared at the large vehicle until it disappeared down the street.
Looking up, she saw the neon flashing sign… ‘Happy Daze Diner’ just as it blipped off. Looking all around to make sure no one had seen her, she hurried over to her Ford. Hers wasn’t the least bit mighty and you could call it meek. It was a Ford Fiesta and it ran all right, but just barely. She tugged at the door handle and it didn’t budge. Dang-it, I’m gonna have to go around and use the passenger door!
She got in, climbed over to the driver’s seat, and started her little tin can of a junk pile. She pulled out of the parking lot with lurch of the engine and a cloud of smoking oil fumes. She’d bought the car because it was priced right. Cheap! She smiled and wiped the dust from her rearview mirror.
It would get to home and back. For four hundred dollars that was a bargain, compared to walking. She dimmed her headlights because she really didn’t want to waste the battery juice as it was like the car itself—on its last cell. The streets were empty, so it didn’t matter anyway.
The car needed all kinds of things that she couldn’t afford, but maybe it needed to be dropped off at the junkyard too. Brea just couldn’t bring herself to do it though; she sort of mixed herself with the beat down car. She sometimes felt like she didn’t match up to the slim modeled woman, but she was loyal and steady as hell. So, she held onto the car out of sympathy.
Night had fallen over the sleepy looking town and the empty streets just added to her somber mood. She needed to stop all this sneaking around and hiding her feelings under a dark, damp rock. Why couldn’t she just be like a modern woman and ask him out? Because you’re too afraid, that’s why, Plushy butt!
The nickname had been tagged on her in high school and she‘d gotten way past feeling bad about it. It matched her name and her behind. I have a great butt and someday, someone else may think that too! But someday was kind of like the word tomorrow…it was always looming but never really here. Her thoughts drifted again. Someone? Well, there was a someone; he just wasn’t her someone.
She parked in her spot at the apartment building and tried her car door handle. It gave way and for once, and she was able to get out of her car the respectable way. Yay! She felt like the bucket of bolts was thanking her for the junkyard reprieve.
Looking around, she knew most of her neighbors were already asleep. Ten o’clock and the streets of Flatonia instantly rolled up. Is this gonna be my life when I’m old? She made her way up the stairs and tried to think of what she could do differently. Well, you could ask that someone out and maybe he would be taken off guard enough to actually say yes. But you just keep puttin’ that off till tomorrow, which you know will never be here.
Brea sighed as she took o
ff her apron and dropped it onto her couch. Her feet hurt and her back was strained. The day had been super long and she just wanted a hot bath. Waitressing was more than hard work—it was a total beat down on some days. She kicked off her shoes and winced. Ten hours on your feet while rushing all over and trying to please everyone was rough. The tips bought the groceries but sometimes, you couldn’t pay the bills.
Yep, sometimes you had all chicken, while other times, all you got was the feathers. Another wise but offbeat proverb her momma was always telling her when the bills couldn’t be paid. Brea stripped away the rest of her well-worn, food-splattered uniform. Chicken, she shuddered. Icky-chicky, she would say after a full week at the diner.
She headed to the bathroom, as was her nightly routine. While running the bath water, she paused and looked in the mirror. Her mom said she had an hourglass figure. Brea turned sideways while gazing at her body and thought, what the hell did that even mean? Hourglass? Like maybe your ass was full of heavy sand?
She unclasped her bra and watched her rosy tipped breasts pop out from the material. Yeah, I’ve got the big boobs, but my hips could bounce someone across a room.
She added rose scented bubbles to the streaming water, then tugged her panties down and away. Stepping into the warm water she sat down, sinking into the tub. Releasing a relieved sigh, she immediately thought about someone she’d love to bounce all right. He was never far from her thoughts, and one of these days someone was gonna catch her watching him.
He wasn’t even interested. She released a heavy breath and closed her eyes. Jet came in every day and he was the finest thing on two legs. He was like sex on two legs, she should say. A cowboy, the cook had said about him. Yeah, I wish he would ride me! Don’t even go there again, Brea. She fought the temptation off. It was like a bad habit that left her shaking for just one more hit.
His smile flashed in her mind as she slipped her fingers lower and rubbed her clit. Yep, she gave in and allowed her imagination to be full of that hot, sexy cowboy. In her mind, he was doing this very thing to her.
She raised her breasts from the water and pretended he was sucking on her nipples. Oh, his mouth would be hot and he would tease her nipples with his teeth. She could hear his husky voice as he tilted his cowboy hat up, so that she could see those blazing blue eyes as he whispered, “Open up for me, Brea…”
At the smokin’ sexy vision, she splashed around in the bubble-laced water and her eyes popped open. Dammit! I’m doing it again!
She reached for the shampoo and lathered her hair with a little too much vigor. Like he would actually be in my bubble bath wearing his cowboy hat! I could at least envision some kind of reality with it. I bet his bare body would be a reality to me all right and just the loveliest rose scented piece of man meat I ever saw! I have tried my best to envision what that body would look like bare.
Why, just the other day, she stood at the coffee station and stared at him for no telling how long. Her mind was conjuring up visions of him without his cowboy duds. She then would switch it and have him in just boots and hat. Then all naked. Oh, to be his saddle. Hell, I’d settle for being his anything. Yeah, ride me anytime, baby boy!
I can’t help but to fantasize. He was so hot and he makes me sweat whenever he looks at me. But that wasn’t sexy either, trying to stay dry in your panties and under your arms while you worked. Nope, every time he came in, the panties were shot. Brea released a drift of laughter. Another pair bites the dust!
Thinking naughty thoughts of him always did change her attitude, because it almost made her giddy and that was part of the addiction, probably.
She rinsed her hair and lathered up with conditioner. Laying her head back, she wondered what it would be like to kiss him. He had been coming in for the last three weeks, breakfast, lunch and dinnertime. He’d said that they didn’t have a cook out at the ranch he was working at and he liked the home cooking style at the diner.
Shaking her head, she knew she should stop thinking about this man. There was just no way he was ever gonna ask her out. Sure, he smiled at her and talked to her. But sometimes, he would just eat and leave without talking much. Plus, he’d never even made a play for her.
God, she loved it when he did talk though. That sweet twang of his? It wasn’t heavy, just light enough to make my skin tingle whenever I hear it.
She rinsed out the conditioner and wondered if she should shave her legs? Why? It’s not like I would be wearing a dress anytime soon. Shrugging, she grabbed the razor and soap. Mom always said to keep your ladylike swing going. Again, what the hell did that mean? Good ole mom, she said some pretty wild stuff, but she was a take no nonsense woman and she always got what she was after.
Taking up the razor, Brea wondered why she wasn’t more like her mom. She made neat rows through the soap on her calves with the razor and thought about it. I wish I could just go after what I wanted. I just think it’s because I’m a heavy girl and it’s better to try and stay as invisible as possible, seeing how rejection was always a real sting when it happened.
Still, that was no excuse. Brea’s mom had always been a big woman, and just look how many guys she’d had? She always said, men were like shoes and you never know if they will really fit until you wore them for a while. Brea giggled aloud. My mom, she was something, but she always got her man or her way in the end, and boy, did she ever go through men like they were shoes!
Finishing the shave, she splashed water over her legs. What did I really want and was too scared to go out and get? It used to be that she wanted the hell out of high school, and then out of town and now? She just wanted to get the man of her dreams.
Her resolve built as she thought of her strong willed, happy mother. But I was always trying to be good, so I wouldn’t get branded as a slut and just last week I told mom that. She remembered now what her mom’s response had been. “Good girls go to heaven, Brea, but bad girls go everywhere!” Some Mom she was…telling me things like that. Her Mom never seemed to feel any shame about being the way she was all of her life though. She always said she planned to be in heaven at least a half an hour before the devil knew she was dead.
Well, I sure as hell don’t wanna go to heaven this soon, myself. But maybe I will get a few miles out and reach a heaven filled with cowboy beefcake? Another giggle escaped as Brea shaved her underarms too, while she wondered if those great looking stretch jeans still fit her. She then thought about what blouse to wear and before she knew it, she’d made her decision to go for it. She figured what was the use in sitting around waiting for her life to change and feeling sorry for herself anyway.
“It’s time for Miss Plushy butt to get a new pair of shoes!” Her laughter echoed through the bathroom as she dried herself off.
* * * *
This time, tomorrow did come and Brea was aiming to face it head on. She drove out to the Triple K Ranch while still asking herself if she was nuts and her body literally shook all the way up Lockhart road. The question of what the hell she thought she was doing, kept popping into her head, interrupting her newfound courage.
“I’m gonna ask for the cooks job, that’s what!” she answered aloud and gave a resolute downward head nod while looking into her rearview mirror. As if seeing the reflection of her pink cheeks and the false tough glint in her own green eyes would make her braver.
Her not yet to be junked car was about to earn its keep, but she realized again, that it had certainly seen better days. She looked out at the paint peeled hood, while knowing that the tires were bald and the driver side door had a nice healthy gash where she had scraped it against a cement pylon at the carwash. It would make it out there and back though, right?
She saw the sign, Triple K Drive and turned in, driving over the cattle grate. A loud pop echoed out as her car shifted with a swerve. At first, she thought it was just the grate hitting up against her very bare tires. So, she pressed the brake to slow the car and the pedal went all the way to the floor.
Well, that isn’t good
. Brea was sweating it now. Brakes were something you needed to have, right? With a rising dread, she noticed that the road titled downhill. Everything in life seemed to tilt that way eventually and this was no exception.
There were cows lining the road. The big doe eyed animals stared at her and her runaway vehicle from hell. Their great big eyes rounded at the loony woman in her disaster heap as she swerved aimlessly all over the road.
Just stay calm; it’s a barren road and it’s not like there’s heavy traffic and all. Her mind conjured up visions of the car folding like a crushed aluminum can as it hit one of those beefy cows. Fighting the panic, she tried the emergency brake and it didn’t slow the car at all. Did that stupid thing ever work before?
Up ahead, she saw a horse and rider on the dirt road. Fuck—what is that? She hit the horn, and then remembered that had stopped working sometime last winter. “Crap!” She tried to roll her window down to call out to the rider and of course, that button never worked since she’d gotten the damn car. Okay, now I am gonna panic.
The man wearing a cowboy hat looked startled as he hurried his horse across.
Brea could actually see the whites of the horse’s eyes, she was so close to it. The whole thing was like some bad dream, like the time she’d polished off that half a bottle of whiskey and imagined all kinds of freaky things. This whole scene was truly bizarre, as her and probably the horse’s life, passed in front of her eyes.
She screamed and turned the wheel, attempting to go the opposite direction. Oh, shit! The old Ford bucked and swerved as it went into a one eighty; the dust flew and she thought her heart had stopped while the car spun completely around.
Sucking her breath in, the world spun while the car turned into one of those whirling violent rides at a carnival. She fought to hold down the contents of her stomach. Finally, the car halted, jerking her body forward and back with a thump. Dizzy, she placed her head on the steering wheel.
The sound of her gasping for air echoed out through the dust heavy air. With a death grip of her hands on the steering wheel, she wondered if going on an adventure to jump-start your life could actually end your life. I never even got to see the seven or eight wonders of the world, for Christ sake!