Fire Line (Griffith Brothers, 3) - Softcover

Buch 3 von 3: The Griffith Brothers

Gates, Maggie

 
9780593955963: Fire Line (Griffith Brothers, 3)
Softcover
ISBN 10: 059395596X ISBN 13: 9780593955963
Verlag: Penguin Publishing Group, 2026

Inhaltsangabe

Instant USA Today Bestseller!

A grumpy cowboy and an even grumpier chef who are used to knocking boots and walking away are shocked to discover a deeper—if not antagonistic—connection after their night together, in the final book in the Griffith Brothers series.

Lennon’s number one rule is: Committing crimes is not a group project. Rule number two: Don’t start fights. Finish them. And rule number three: Don’t try to hustle a hustler. She knows she should have walked away and ignored that sweet-talking cowboy. Good things didn’t happen to people like her. But that cowboy wouldn’t leave her alone. And he should have known that if you can’t stand the heat, it’s better to get out of the kitchen.

Carson James knew the woman was trouble from the moment he laid eyes on her bruised knuckles in the bar. The last thing he expected was for her to show up on the ranch and bring that trouble to his front door. And he’s discovering it’s hard to maintain a grudge against a woman you find so attractive. He’s always liked playing with fire, but apparently so does she. Only time will tell which of them is going to get burned.

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Über die Autorin bzw. den Autor

Maggie Gates writes raw, relatable romance novels packed full of heat and humor. Maggie calls North Carolina home. In her spare time, she enjoys daydreaming about her characters, jamming to country music, and eating all the barbecue and tacos she can find! Her e-reader is always within reach due to a love of small-town romances that borders on obsession.

Auszug. © Genehmigter Nachdruck. Alle Rechte vorbehalten.

A neon glow bathed the Silver Spur in soft blues. The chaos of pool tables, a band, and the clink of glasses as two bartenders mixed drinks blended into a wall of sound.

My palms hit the edge of the polished oak bar as I found an open stool.

A blonde bartender glanced over, her eyes meeting mine for a moment before returning to her work. With practiced ease, she poured two fingers of Jack into a glass and slid it to a customer without looking up.

"Whadda ya want?" she hollered over the ruckus.

"Beer," I said. "Whatever's cold."

"Easy enough." She grabbed a bottle out of the ice chest and dropped it in front of me.

I debated paying cash or starting a tab. I didn't plan on sticking around long-just long enough to disassociate for a while.

But I did drive all the way out here . . . If I only drank one beer, it'd be the most expensive drink of my life.

A body pushed against mine and craned over the bar. "I need a towel."

"Ever heard of waiting your turn?" I muttered as I handed the bartender my card to start a tab.

The woman turned to me when the bartender disappeared, flashing a pair of split knuckles. "The last guy got it worse. You wanna be next, cowboy?"

The accent told me she wasn't from around here. Not even close. She said you wanna like a true New Yorker. It reminded me of my sister-in-law.

She was a pain in the ass too.

"Pipe down, slugger. Ain't nothing that serious."

The bartender gave the woman a handful of ice wrapped in a towel and asked, "Did you start it or finish it?"

The woman grabbed it and pressed the ball of ice to her knuckles. "Finished it."

The bartender waved her off. "Fine by me. Stay out of trouble."

Brown eyes flicked up and down, tracking from my boots to my beer, up my chest, then to my face. "See how fast that was? Now you can get back to drinking your shitty beer and looking broody."

I took a long pull from the bottle and drank her in with my eyes.

Her hair glowed under the neon signs like it was invisible ink under a black light. Onyx hair intertwined with snow-white streaks. Sleeves of tattoos covered both arms. She had a slice through her eyebrow and a stud dotting her nose.

She was hot. And unpredictable.

I scoffed to try to hide my smile. "You'd run into less trouble if your mouth didn't write checks your ass can't cash."

She let a caustic laugh slip. "You think I go around punching people? He had it coming."

"Sure, slugger. That's what they all say."

She shrugged. "He shoulda known better than to make a bet and refuse to pay up. If you're gonna be a loser, be an honorable one."

She had a point there.

"Tell you what." I pointed around the bar to the pool tables and dartboards. "Pick your poison. You win, and I'll buy your next drink."

Her mouth curved up into a devilish smile. "Sorry, cowboy. I play for money."

"Yeah?" I hooked a finger in the belt loop of her denim shorts and tugged her closer. "Well, I play for keeps."

"Not interested," slipped from her lips, but I caught the way her voice softened. The way her eyes flicked to my mouth. "I'm not from around here anyway."

"Neither am I."

"Pool. Hundred bucks says I'll beat you."

"Fifty."

"Seventy-five."

"Fine." I finished off my beer and pulled out my wallet, showing her the bills. "I'm good for it."

Something wicked lingered in her smile. "Rack 'em up, cowboy."

"What makes you think I'm a cowboy?" I slid my hand onto the small of her back and led her to an open pool table.

She let out a loud, raucous laugh. "You're one ma'am away from the big three."

I lifted an eyebrow as I arranged the balls into a triangle. "The big three?"

She counted off each point by lifting a finger. "Cowboy boots. Cowboy hat."

"So, what's the third?"

"You haven't called me ma'am."

I chuckled and handed her a cue. "Hate to break it to you, trouble. But this is Texas. You'll find all three just about everywhere."

She stole the cue I had chosen for myself out of my hand and shoved the one I had offered her back at me. "It's Lennon."

I trapped her against the table with one hand on the edge of the wood and my boots on the outside of her sneakers. "Either trouble suits you or it follows you. I'm thinking both."

Lennon smirked. "If you think flirting with me will help you win, you're wrong. But nice try."

I had been a gentleman until now. But since she called my hand, I wasn't going to hide my attraction. I dropped my gaze to the tits that filled the low scoop of her tank top. "Just leveling the playing field."

"I'll let you break. It's the least I can do considering you're about to be seventy-five bucks poorer."

The balls clattered as I took a shot at the triangle, managing to pocket one on the break. I took another shot and dropped two more in, clean as a whistle.

"You wanna rethink that bet?" I asked as I chalked my cue. "We should probably discuss what I want when I win."

"If you win, I'll pay you," Lennon said, sinking two more into the side pocket. "That's how this works."

I moved behind her, planting my hands on the edge of the table to cage her in. "I can think of something else I'd like when I win."

Lennon arched her back, teasing me with her ass. "You're thinking with your dick."

I brushed her long black-and-white hair to one shoulder, then leaned down until my chest pressed against her back.

"I don't know about you, but I'm playing to win." I trailed my fingers up and down the goose bumps that flooded her arms. "You cold, sweetheart?"

Her tongue darted out, swiping across her lips as she blinked to refocus. "Trust me, cowboy. There's nothing sweet about me."

I smoothed my hand down the curve of her back to her hip, skirting her ass. "That's alright. I don't have much of a sweet tooth." I wedged my leg between her thighs. "When I eat out, it's the main meal."

Lennon's shot went askew. She missed the ball she was aiming for and accidentally knocked one of mine into the corner pocket.

I chuckled as I backed away, searching for my shot. "Thanks for the freebie."

"Ass," she grumbled.

We went through the next few rounds in silence, both of us picking off balls with each turn. Teasing each other with sensual touches.

I took stock of the table and lined up for my next shot. If I made this one, it would tie us up. If I missed and she made hers, she'd win.

"What are you drinking, slugger?" I asked as I shifted to the other side of the table for a better angle.

She chalked up her cue like she didn't have a care in the world. "Water."

I made the shot, pocketed the ball, and tied us up. "Next drink is on me. It's the least I can do after kicking your ass."

Lennon faced me on the opposite side of the table, leaned over, and rested her arms on the edge.

Fuck.

The neck of her tank top was low and revealing. Her heavy tits hung behind the pocket I was trying to hit. "Come on, cowboy. Take your shot."

"It's CJ."

She flashed a full smile. "I didn't ask for your name."

I chuckled. "Figured you'd wanna remember who bested you."

The shot went wide.

Lennon clicked her tongue. "Pride always comes before a fall." And with that, she cleaned up the table, pocketing the eight ball.

"Best out of three," I said.

She came around to stand toe to toe with me and flipped her hair to one shoulder. "How about you pay up and stop being a sore loser?" She flexed her bruised knuckles. "You know how it ended for the last guy."

I smirked and tugged my wallet out of the back pocket of my jeans. "Yes, ma'am."

"And there's the big three. You cowboys are such gentlemen. Did it hurt to hold in the ma'am...

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Verlag
Penguin Publishing Group
Erscheinungsdatum
2026
Sprache
Englisch
ISBN 10 
059395596X
ISBN 13 
9780593955963
Einband
Taschenbuch
Anzahl der Seiten
369
Kontakt zum Hersteller
preigu GmbH & Co. KG
mail@preigu.de

Lengericher Landstr. 19
Osnabrück
Niedersachsen
49078
Deutschland

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