Australian Quinns: The Mighty Quinns: Brody

“Maybe you should come with me,” he suggested. He curled up against her, nuzzling his face into the curve of her neck. “I have a very large bed in my room. And a strong lock on the door. We won’t be disturbed.”

“We won’t get any sleep, either,” Payton said.

“That’s the point, isn’t it?”

She sighed softly and he waited for her decision. But after a minute or two, Brody realized that she’d fallen asleep. Her breathing had grown soft and even and the arm resting on his hip had gone limp.

He bit back a curse, then pressed a kiss to her forehead. She stirred for a moment, her eyes fluttering. “I’m going to go. You need your sleep. I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Morning,” she sighed.

Reluctantly, he untangled himself from her embrace, rolled off the bed and tugged his shirt down. He turned to look at Payton, her dark hair fanned out over the pillow, her hand curled over her face.

If he wasn’t such a gentleman, he’d pick her up, carry her to his bedroom and make love to her all night long. But he had time. And when it happened, they’d both be awake and completely aware of what they were doing. It would be good between them. Maybe better than it had ever been with any other woman.

For that, Brody was willing to wait.

PAYTON GRABBED the hoof pick, then pushed the horse up against the side of the stall with her shoulder. Lifting the gelding’s front leg, she held its hoof between her thighs and began to clean out the debris between the frog and the bars.

Unlike the horses she rode for show, the horses on the station didn’t spend much time in the stable. They were brought in after a day’s work and then quickly groomed and sent out to a large paddock where they were fed. The ground was dry and the stable kept clean, so there was no need for a farrier and horseshoes.

The Kerry Creek horses were a sturdy lot, most gentle and accommodating—the furthest thing from the pampered, high-spirited show horses she’d learned to ride. Brody had informed her that the stockmen were responsible for the daily care of their own mounts, but she was expected to care for the remainder in the paddock and the stables—nearly forty by her count.

These included mares that were in foal and the colts who were yet to be broken, along with at least ten extra stock ponies. She’d also spend part of each day in the tack room, keeping the stockmen’s saddles and bridles in good working order. And with what time was left over, she’d turn her attention to mixing feed and keeping the stables tidy.

The dry season was the busiest of all on a cattle station. The stockmen were getting ready to bring the cattle in for the yearly mustering, setting off to the far corners of the station to gather the herd, sometimes staying out three or four days. The new calves would be examined, vaccinated, tagged and branded with the K that signified Kerry Creek station.

The horses that were part of the breeding operation were pastured closer to the homestead where they could be watched closely and brought inside as their time grew near. Foals that were dropped outside could be easy prey for dingoes.

“You look like you know what you’re doing.”

Payton glanced up to see Brody’s brother Teague standing just outside the stall, his shoulder braced against a post, his arms crossed over his chest. Like Brody and Callum, he was gorgeous. But unlike Brody, he didn’t send shivers of desire coursing through her body, nor did she spend hours thinking about kissing him.

She shoved the sleeves of her oversize work shirt above her elbows, then nodded. “It’s a whole different kind of horse,” she said with a smile. “They have a wonderful temperament.”

“That’s the way we breed them and train them,” he said. “And for stamina and strength and agility. They need to be able to last all day long. Sometimes all week.”

Payton continued her work. “What are the bloodlines?”

“Originally thoroughbreds and Arabians with some Welsh mountain and Timor pony thrown in.”

“When do they foal?”

“They tend to start in September and go through the first of the year. Usually right after mustering ends, we start in with foaling.”

“Davey said the colt in the next stall has been sold. He’s beautiful.”

“He’s going to be trained as a show horse. Some of our horses are used for polocrosse. And some for campdrafting.”

Payton set the horse’s hoof onto the concrete floor and straightened, brushing her hair out of her eyes. “What’s that?”

“Besides Aussie-rules football, polocrosse and campdrafting are the only native Aussie sports. Polo-crosse is a mix of polo, lacrosse and netball. And I reckon campdrafting is kind of like your rodeo riding. The horse and rider cut a calf from the herd, then they have to maneuver it around a series of posts.”

“I’d like to see that,” she said.

“I’ll take you sometime,” Teague promised. “There’s a campdrafting event in Muttaburra in August if you’re still around.”

“I’d like to try it.”

“Then I’ll teach you.”

“Teach her what?”

Brody appeared at his brother’s side. He was dressed in traditional stockman’s attire, a work shirt, canvas jacket, jeans. He wore a felt hat on his head and his hands were clad in well-worn leather gloves. She hadn’t seen him since the previous evening and she’d forgotten just how beautiful he was.

“Hey, little brother. Where have you been?”

“I went out with Davey to fix the windmill in the high pasture.”

Teague clapped his brother on the back. “Good to see you putting in an honest day’s work.” He touched the brim of his hat and nodded at Payton. “I’ve got a call. I’ll see you later, Payton. Maybe you can give me a hand tomorrow morning. I’ve got vaccinations to do on the yearlings.”

“Sure,” Payton said. “I’d be happy to help.”

He nodded again. “I think I’ll like having you here.” Teague turned to Brody, arching an eyebrow and examining him critically. “Have you had all your shots?”

Payton watched Brody’s jaw grow tense. As the youngest brother, he probably had to put up with a greater share of the teasing. “Don’t mind Teague,” Brody said as his brother turned and walked away. “He has a bad habit of yabbering to anyone who’ll listen.”

“So, is Teague in charge of the horse-breeding operation?”

“When he’s around. He’s a vet.”

“A veterinarian? Really?”

Brody nodded. “He’s usually flying from station to station. He spends a few days at home, then takes off again. He’s the brilliant one in the family.”

“He’s nice,” Payton murmured. She met Brody’s gaze and her breath stopped in her throat. It was all there, the desire, the need and even a tiny hint of jealousy. She drew a ragged breath as he crossed the short distance between them to pull her into his arms.

Payton had tried to put all of this out of her head. From the moment she woke up that morning she’d been waiting to touch him, to taste him. It had been eight hours of sheer torture and now she felt the tension in her body release as their mouths met.

The more she saw of him, the more difficult it was to resist him. And yet, that didn’t frighten or confuse her. She didn’t need to figure out the consequences of her every action and reaction. She could kiss Brody and that was all it was, a kiss. It felt good to cast aside her penchant for planning and just go with the flow.

But how long could that last? How long before a simple fling turned into something more complicated? Her feelings for him were already so intense, her desire undeniable. She’d promised herself that she’d be guided by her instincts, and every instinct told her to enjoy their time together. They didn’t need to make promises to each other. This was enough.

He cupped her face in his palms and drew her deeply into the kiss, as if desperate to possess her. Payton was stunned at how easy it was to stoke his need. There was no hesitation, nothing she held back. Though she barely knew Brody, she felt a connection with him that she’d never shared with a man before.

He pulled her out of the stall, his hands tight around her waist. Stumbling back, they fell into a pile of straw, their mouths still frantically searching for the perfect manifestation of their need. He tossed his hat aside, then tugged off his gloves, his hands immediately moving to cup her backside. Though Payton knew their privacy in the stable wasn’t certain, she didn’t care. All that mattered was his touch, his fingers tearing at her shirt until he exposed the curve of her shoulder.

His teeth grazed her skin and Payton tipped her head back, inviting him to take more. There were moments when she acted on instinct, as if this woman had always been buried deep inside her and was just waiting to get out. And then, at other times, she felt like a teenager, fumbling her way though her first sexual experience.

He excited her and frightened her all at once. And yet, she pushed aside her fears, rushing headlong into her desire, aching to experience release. Payton tugged at his jacket, pulling it over his arms until she could unbutton his shirt.

“Too many clothes,” she murmured as she brushed aside the shirt and placed a kiss in the center of his chest. He was so magnificent, she mused, his skin deeply tanned and his body finely muscled. Her lips found one of his nipples and she circled it with her tongue.

Brody ran his fingers through her hair, sighing her name softly as if urging her on. Slowly, Payton worked her way lower, trailing kisses over his abdomen. But before she could go farther, she heard the clip-clop of hooves on the concrete floor of the stable.

She looked up to find Callum standing just inside the stable door, his horse’s reins dangling from his fingers. With a soft cry, Payton scrambled to her feet, brushing the straw from her clothes and trying to adjust her shirt. Callum arched a brow as he looked down at Brody. “I can come back later,” he said slowly.

Brody shook his head, cursing. “No. Feel free. We were just…talking.”

“Oh, is that what they call it?” Callum asked. He pulled his horse along until he stopped in front of Payton. “Is my brother bothering you? If he is, you can just tell him to leave.”

Callum was always so serious that Payton couldn’t tell if he was angry or just teasing. She gave him an apologetic smile. “It—it won’t happen again,” she said. “I’m sorry.”

Callum reached up and plucked a piece of straw from her hair and handed it to her, a grin quirking at the corners of his mouth. Payton felt her cheeks warm and she took the reins from his hand. “I’ll take care of your horse,” she mumbled.

Tugging at the bit, she pulled the horse along the length of the stable, hoping to get as far away from the two brothers as possible. She would not keep this job for long if she continued to show such a blatant disrespect for her employer.

And she needed this job! She wasn’t ready to go home. The thought of facing her family and Sam was just too much for her right now. Here, on the station, she felt useful, which made her far happier than she’d been in a very long time.

But was it the work that made her happy or was it her growing infatuation with Brody Quinn? She’d be deluding herself if she ignored his part in this. Glancing back, she caught sight of Callum and Brody, deep in conversation, Callum gesturing with his gloved hands and Brody watching him with an indolent expression.

She barely knew the Quinn brothers, but the family dynamics were quite evident. Callum was the caretaker, the responsible brother whose only focus was the success of the station. Teague was the charmer, the smart, funny one with the ready smile and witty conversation.

And Brody…well, he was a little more difficult to define. He seemed to be the rebel of the family, a bit of an outsider. Payton couldn’t understand why he stayed on the station when it was so obvious that it wasn’t his favorite place to be.

She tied Callum’s horse up to a nearby post and began to remove the saddle. When she straightened from unbuckling the cinch, she found Brody standing behind her. He gently turned her around to face him, then bent lower and kissed her.

“Sorry about that,” he said, reaching out to smooth his hand over her hair.

“We can’t do that again,” she said, looking up at him. “I need this job, Brody.”

“You’re not going to lose your job,” he said. “Cal doesn’t care. He’s so preoccupied with Gemma, he doesn’t have time to worry about us.”

“I care.” Turning back to Callum’s mount, she pulled the saddle off and set it on a bale of straw. “I like working here. And I need to pay you back for taking care of my debts.”

“Cal can’t complain about what you do when you’re finished working, can he?”

“No,” she said, setting the saddle pad on top of the saddle. “I guess not.”

“All right, then. We’ll just have to confine ourselves to the hours before breakfast and after dinner. And we’re going to have to find a place that offers some privacy.” He grabbed the saddle and hoisted it over his shoulder. “Why don’t you let me take care of Cal’s horse and you can finish what you were doing earlier. Then we’ll go eat.”

“You don’t have to help me.”

“Yes I do,” Brody said. “Because the sooner you finish, the sooner I’ll have you all to myself.”

Perhaps he was right. As long as she finished her work, Callum couldn’t begrudge her evenings spent with Brody. “Okay.”

Her second day of work had been as exhausting as her first. But the prospect of spending time alone with Brody gave her a sudden surge of energy. She’d fallen asleep in his arms last night then woken up to an empty bed. She wasn’t about to do that two nights in a row. “It’s a date.”

“Good.” He grabbed the blanket and headed toward the tack room.

Payton watched him, smiling to herself. There was something so attractive about a man who actually worked for a living, a man who used his body the way it was meant to be used—for hard labor…and seduction. Brody was dirty and sweaty, yet she wanted him more than she’d ever wanted a man in her life.

3

BRODY DROPPED the phone into the cradle, then pushed back in Callum’s desk chair, linking his hands behind his head. He hadn’t bothered to pick up his messages on his mobile phone since reception in Bilbarra and at the station was nonexistent. But remotely checking the voice mail of his home phone at his apartment in Fremantle had brought an interesting development.

Cursing softly, he closed his eyes, a tightly held breath escaping his chest. When he’d left Fremantle, the team doctors had assured him there was no chance he would ever play football again. But now, a doctor in Los Angeles had developed a surgery that offered a way to reconstruct his bum knee.

Why now, why after he’d resigned himself to his fate? Why even tempt him with the possibility of regaining everything he’d lost? Brody knew it would be a long shot at best. And even if the surgery was successful, there’d be months, maybe a year or two, of rehab. Was he really willing to put in the time, just for another chance to play?

He didn’t really have a choice. Brody had never been cut out for station life. The problem was he didn’t have any options beyond football and stockman’s work. He could invest in a business before he retired, but he wasn’t sure what he wanted to buy. Or he could go to university and learn something new, but he was too old to go back to being a student.

“You never were one to plan ahead,” he muttered to himself.

“Hey, dinner is on the table,” Callum said, poking his head in the door. “Best be quick or Davey’ll snag the seat next to your girl.”

“She isn’t my girl,” Brody said, running his hand through his hair.

Callum shrugged. “I’m sure the boys will be happy to hear that. They’ve been carrying on like pork chops since she and Gemma arrived.”

“All right, she is my girl. For now. And I expect that pretty Irish thing won’t be spending much time with the boys, either. I see the way you stare at her. Explain to me again what she’s doing here?”

“Research,” Callum said. “She’s working for some distant relative of ours on a family history. I guess one branch of the family left Ireland for the States and another branch came here. She’s been going over all the old records for the station.”

“What does that have to do with family history?” Brody asked.

“I don’t know.” He drew a deep breath. “I don’t really care. As long as it keeps her here.”

“Maybe she really fancies Teague. He’s always been the looker in the family.”

“Teague’s got something else going,” Callum murmured. “I was up early this morning and I saw him come in just before sunrise. There’s not an available woman, besides Gemma, Payton and Mary, within fifty kilometers of this station, but he sure looked well satisfied.”

“Maybe he’s clearing the cobwebs at the brothel, or with a married lady,” Brody said.

Callum shook his head. “Teague wouldn’t do that. He’s too bloody honorable. And why would he when he can usually have any woman he wants?” Callum paused. “I’m just worried he—”

“What?” Brody asked.

“I heard Hayley Fraser’s back on her grandfather’s station. Teague’s always been a bit jelly kneed when it comes to her. First love and all that.”

“Marrying Teague off to Hayley would solve all your problems.” Brody teased. “The Frasers would be family, and family don’t sue family.” He pushed away from the desk. “If that’s who he’s messing with, he should be encouraged, don’t you think?”

Callum cursed softly. “And maybe Fraser is using his granddaughter to mess with us,” he shot back. “Did you ever consider that? Maybe he thinks if he can’t get the land in court, he’ll get it another way.”

“How?”

“I don’t know. Blackmail. Extortion. Fraser will go after that land any way he can. I just hope Teague doesn’t get caught in the crossfire.”

“Come on, Cal, you’re talking crazy now. This feud has gone on for so long that nobody can see straight.”

“I’m not going to surrender to Harry Fraser,” Cal said. “That land belongs to the Quinns and we’re not going to lose it while I’m in charge.” He nodded his head. “Come on, dinner is ready. Mary won’t wait.”

Brody stared after him, then slowly stood. There were times when Brody wondered how Cal handled all the pressures of running the station. So many people depended on him. His parents took a share of the station income. Then there were the stockmen who expected to be paid. Teague’s practice wouldn’t make decent money for a few years, so he traded vet services for room and board. And now Brody was sponging off Callum. From now on, he’d make a better effort to pull his own weight.

The kitchen was already noisy when Brody walked in, filled with the usual dinner guests—the stockmen, Teague and Mary, and now Gemma and Payton.

With women at the table, the conversation had become much more civilized. Brody dislodged one of the jackaroos from the chair next to Payton, then sat down beside her. Unlike the majority of the men, Brody unfolded his serviette and placed it on his lap instead of stuffing it down the front of his shirt.

“What exactly is a B and S?” Gemma asked.

“Bachelors and Spinsters Ball,” Teague explained as he grabbed a piece of bread and slathered it with butter. “All the unmarried people get together for a weekend of silliness. If you’re not an Aussie, I don’t think I’d recommend it. Foreigners might not have the fortitude to survive the weekend.”

“But it sounds like fun,” Payton said, leaning forward and bracing her elbows on the table. “I always loved balls and dances and cotill—” She stopped short, as if she’d suddenly revealed too much. Forcing a smile, she continued, “Is it formal or semiformal?”

“Tell her, Teague,” Brody insisted, chuckling to himself. Though Payton hadn’t said much, she had revealed something of value this time out. She’d either enjoyed a high-class upbringing or she was a professional princess. He’d never known a single person who’d been to a real ball.

“It’s not really a ball, the way you’re thinking,” Teague explained. “And by silliness, I mean debauchery.”

“It’s more like a big outdoor party,” Callum explained.

Teague nodded. “There’s music and drinking and…well, the whole idea is to get pissed, have a good time and hopefully enjoy a shag at the end of the night.”

Gemma and Payton looked at each other, shocked expressions on their faces. “Have sex?” Payton asked.

Teague nodded. “Yeah, I guess that’s the point. Lots of blokes bring their swag along for just that purpose. Life gets real lonely in the outback.”

“What is swag?” Gemma asked. “Money? Do you pay for sex?”

“It’s a sleeping roll,” Brody explained. “Camping gear. Believe me, you don’t want to go to the B and S. It gets feral.”

“Filthy is a better word for it,” Mary said as she set a bowl of peas next to Brody. She took her spot at the far end of the table. “If you don’t want to get dirty or pawed, I wouldn’t recommend it. And the loos are disgusting.”

“I heard they’re going to do something about that,” Callum commented. “The organizers reckon they’ll get a better class of sheilas if they guarantee clean toilets. They’re going to hire someone to keep them tidy.”

“I remember last year, Jack made his own loo with a milk crate and a dunny seat,” Teague said. “All the girls were wild for it. He’d let ’em use it, then try to charm them out of their grundies. Such a player, our Jack.”

The lanky stockman shook his head, his long hair falling into his eyes. “I won’t be able to compete with trailer toilets,” Jack said glumly.

“It might be fun,” Payton said. She turned to Gemma. “What do you think? When in Australia, do as the Aussies do?”

Gemma laughed. “We’d have to get something nice to wear.”

“I have dresses,” Payton said. “I need work clothes. I can’t wear Davey’s castoffs forever. Not that I don’t appreciate the loan,” she said, giving the kid a warm smile.

“I have to fly to Brisbane in a few days. I could take you shopping,” Teague offered.

“Hang on there,” Callum interrupted. “Gemma and Payton are not going to Bachelors and Spinsters.”

“We won’t participate,” Gemma said. “We’ll just go to…observe. Think of it as sightseeing. Or anthropological research.”

“If you want to see the real sights of Australia, I’ll take you,” Teague said. “Queensland is beautiful from the air.”

“There’s an idea,” Callum said. “You’d be much safer in a plane piloted by our brother than at Bachelors and Spinsters.”

Brody slipped his hand beneath the table and smoothed his palm along Payton’s thigh. “We could always send Mary to the ball. It’s about time she got off this station and had a bit of fun. There are plenty of blokes who’d fancy a dance with our Mary.”

The older woman’s cheeks turned bright red and she hushed the laughter around the table. “Maybe I will,” she said, giving them all a haughty expression. “I’d venture to say I could outdance all you boys.”

The rest of the dinner conversation focused on the sights that every visitor in Australia needed to see, the Bachelors and Spinsters forgotten. Everyone at the table had an opinion about the finest tourist sights, both in and outside of Queensland. By the time they’d finished dessert, Teague had a long list, starting with a trip to Brisbane.

As Mary began to clear the table, Brody pushed back, then slid Payton’s chair out for her. The rest of the hands looked at him in disbelief. “What are you all gawking at? Some of us here have good manners,” Brody said.

The men quickly scrambled to their feet and rushed to Gemma’s chair, but Callum waved them off. In truth, Brody’s actions had nothing to do with manners. He wanted Payton all to himself and the faster that happened the better. But she seemed determined to keep him waiting.

“I’m going to help Mary clean up,” she said, taking his plate and hers.

“Go along with you now. I have all the help I can handle,” Mary said. “Davey promised to lend a hand.”