Free Two Cowboys for Cady by Kit Tunstall Page A

down on the worn wood before
returning to the bar. Cady resisted the urge to chug this one too,
knowing getting drunk and making a fool of herself would do
absolutely nothing to soothe her erratic emotions.
    “Where’s Garrett?” asked Brody.
    “Not a good subject,” said Jace just before
Cady replied.
    She gave Brody a bright smile. “I can’t be
sure, but I imagine he’s still fucking the hot little number he had
tucked into his bed when I stopped by a while ago. They were
halfway through an orgasm and a bottle of wine when I popped in.”
Cady’s rage boiled to the surface again, as she relived the shock
of it all. At least she’d had the satisfaction of dumping that
bottle of red wine all over his pristine white sofa before she’d
stormed out. It was small consolation to offset the sickening
reality that she had devoted the last seven months of her life to a
lying jerk.
    Green eyes locked with blue as Jace and Brody
traded a look she couldn’t decipher. “You caught him,
Cady-did?”
    She nodded. “Walked right in. He’d blown off
dinner, claiming to have a headache, so I dropped by with his
favorite from Soda’s Diner.” With a sigh, she said, “I kind of
think he wanted me to find him like that, so he didn’t have to be a
man and tell me.”
    “Garrett is no kind of man,” said Jace with a
grimace.
    “Who can blame him?” she said with a note of
defeat. “He was offered a hot young body. Who wouldn’t go for it,
especially when I’m the alternative?”
    “Any man who had you would be a fool to ‘go
for it’.” Brody looked disgusted.
    Cady arched a brow. “Yeah, sure. What’s not
to love?” She snorted. “Who couldn’t resist my mousy-brown hair? Or
maybe my fat rolls are enticing.” Shaking her head, she said, “It
was inevitable that he’d move on, just like every other man I’ve
ever been with.” Maybe she was being too hard on herself, but it
felt more like she was being honest with herself for the first time
in a long time. What man would want a thirty-year-old woman wearing
a size twenty-two, with lanky brown hair, when he could have a
chick still in her early twenties, with pert breasts, a tiny waist,
and what had appeared to be a mouth that rivaled the sucking
capacity of a Hoover?
    “Garrett Long is a fucking moron,” said Jace,
slamming his bottle onto the table with such force that the uneven
legs wobbled. “He was lucky enough to have you and threw it
away.”
    Cady sipped her beer, finding her eyes
tearing over from his words more than what she’d been through
earlier tonight. “I appreciate the effort.”
    “You make him sound like he’s just talking to
hear his own voice,” said Brody.
    She blinked. “Nothing like that, but I know
platitudes when I hear ‘em. I truly do appreciate the effort, guys,
but there’s no need. I’m being realistic here.”
    “You’re being an idiot,” said Brody.
    Cady gasped. “What?”
    “You’re letting that bastard off the hook for
his behavior by blaming yourself. He was a damned fool to hurt you,
and to choose some piece of ass over substance.” He leaned across
the table, until their faces were inches apart. “Any man would be a
fool to pass up a chance to be with you, Cady-did.”
    Eyes wide, she distracted herself from the
sudden tension by taking another drink of the beer. “Um, okay.”
    Jace sighed. “She doesn’t believe you,
Brody.”
    “No, she doesn’t.”
    Cady didn’t protest. How could she? They were
being sweet, but she knew they were lying through their teeth, just
like every man she’d known. At least their lies came from a place
of concern.
    She glanced up to see them sharing another
look. This one was also difficult to decipher. They’d been friends
practically since birth, so it was no surprise they were so good at
nonverbal communication. She watched them trade a nod before they
both turned back to her, eyeing her with an intensity that made her
squirm.
    “We’re going to prove it to