The Braddock Boys: Travis. Kimberly Raye

argued. When Travis cut him a glance, he added, “Ranchers talk. You’ve become a hot commodity.” When Travis shrugged, Brent added, “I could really use the help.”

      But the less time Travis spent with Brent, the better. Already, he felt the strange pull he’d once felt with his brother. The camaraderie. The sense of family.

      But his was gone. Rose had seen to that.

      She’d destroyed them all and there was no rebuilding what was permanently damaged. They’d turned on each other and gone their separate ways, and that was okay.

      It was better than okay.

       Out of sight, out of mind.

      That had been his motto all these years. He’d done his damnedest to forget his brothers and his life before. And he’d managed to do just that. Hell, it had been easy. The farther away he stayed, the less he thought about them. No doubts. No regret. No remorse.

      Just the hunger.

      Until Cody’s invitation.

      His little brother had stirred it all up, reminding him of the man he’d been, of the injustice he’d dealt out and the fact that the real culprit had yet to be punished.

      Travis knew now that he couldn’t forget again.

      Not unless he spent the anger inside of him and dealt it out to the real murderer. Then he could move on again. He would move on. And forget.

      His gaze shifted to the woman standing several feet away, herding people back to the reception tent. Her cheeks were pink, her eyes bright. A few tendrils of hair had come loose from her ponytail. His fingertips tingled and he had the crazy urge to cross the lawn, tug her hair loose and run his fingers through the long, blond silk.

      He stiffened. He wasn’t here for sex, despite the past half hour. He was here for information.

      For vengeance.

      Just as soon as Cody returned and Colton arrived and the Braddock boys were back together once again.

      “So what about it? You gonna help me out?”

      Travis shook his head. “I can’t.”

      “Can’t or won’t?”

      “Does it matter?”

      Brent looked as if he wanted to say something, but then thought better of it. “If you change your mind, my place is just a few miles north of here. I could use you.” And then he turned and headed toward the petite brunette.

      She smiled and Brent smiled and for a split second, Travis had the crazy thought that his brother had found the real deal. One man. One woman. Love.

      If there’d been such a thing.

      But Travis knew better. There was no such thing for their kind. Sooner or later, the hunger would get the best of Brent and he’d grab the first woman that crossed his path.

      That’s what had happened to Travis tonight. He’d gotten hungry. Holly had been handy. And bam, he’d satisfied that hunger in the storage closet.

      He watched her gather up a group of seniors and steer them toward the dessert table, and the familiar pang hit him hard and fast. Hunger. Because he’d only partially fed.

      He’d drank in her sweet energy, but for Travis it wasn’t enough. He’d grown accustomed to taking sex and blood. While most vamps leaned more toward one or the other, Travis was a fan of both. It made him feel more alive. More in control. More in touch with his senses. For a vamp who made his living by being in tune with each of the five senses, a double whammy was essential.

      But he hadn’t bitten her.

      He wasn’t sure why. He’d wanted to more badly than anything else. At the same time, he’d felt a moment’s hesitation, as if drinking her in would make it impossible to get rid of her. She’d be under his skin. In his head. His heart.

       Crazy.

      While drinking and having sex with the same woman often created a bond for most vampires, that wasn’t the case for Travis. He was too much of a hard-ass. That, and he kept moving. The distance weakened the connection until, eventually, it snapped altogether and there was nothing. He’d learned that early on with Amelia. She’d been his girl before he’d gone off to war and she’d been more than eager to rekindle the fire in the weeks after his return.

      But the night of his return had changed him. He’d been hardened by the war and devastation at the ranch. Insatiable thanks to the beast that lived and breathed inside of him. The hunger had been all-consuming and he’d quickly learned that he could never go back to being just a man.

      And one woman would never be nearly enough.

      The hunger had driven him into the arms of another and Amelia had been devastated. Thanks to the sex and blood they’d shared, he’d been completely in tune to her feelings. He’d hurt the way she’d hurt. But then he’d left town and the farther he’d gotten from her, the less he’d felt her sorrow and angst. No hitch in his chest. No knife twisting his gut. No piercing white hot pain when she’d finally ended it all and pulled the trigger. Rather, the news of her death had caught up to him months later in the form of a letter from her parents.

       We just thought you should know …

      But he hadn’t known. Not even a clue. Because he hadn’t felt a thing. He was a vampire now and incapable of feeling anything other than lust.

      He knew that. He’d accepted it.

      Which is why he should have bitten Holly and gotten it over with. The attraction would have ended, and he wouldn’t be standing here at the entrance to the tent, as hot and horny as a cowpoke about to crawl into bed with his first saloon girl.

      That was the only reason.

      Damn straight it was.

      And if he downed enough Jack Daniels over the next few hours, Travis might actually start to believe it.

      IF TRAVIS BRADDOCK looked at her one more time, Holly was going to dunk her head under the nearest champagne fountain.

      She forced her gaze from the man standing at the bar and busied herself replenishing the dessert table for the remaining guests. The newlyweds had departed, but the party was still in high gear. The band cranked out a lively Kenny Chesney tune and a sea of Stetsons bobbed across the dance floor. Waiters moved here and there, passing out glasses of the newly discovered champagne. The sweet smell of cake infused the air.

      “Methinketh this is one more fabulous set of event pics for our Facebook page.” Evan’s voice sounded behind her. “I think the worst is over.”

      She turned to see her assistant balancing a platter of chocolate covered cheesecakes. “Don’t count your chickens yet. The DJ doesn’t wrap up until midnight.”

      “By then people will be too drunk to even notice if something goes wrong. As long as the champagne is flowing, everyone’s happy. You can lose the worried look.”

      “I don’t look worried.”

      “You look flushed, which means you’re in panic mode, which means you’re worried and headed straight for a Prozac prescription if you don’t lighten up. Girlfriend, you need to slow down and enjoy the moment. Don’t sweat the small stuff. Carpe diem and all that.”

      If he only knew.

      But he didn’t and she wasn’t about to broadcast to the world that she’d spent the last fifteen minutes seizing not only the day, but one ultra hot cowboy. Not that she cared if everyone knew that Holly Simms had had her first of many one-night stands. She would welcome a little notoriety. Maybe then available bachelors would stop treating her like she had some deadly disease.

      At the same time, she was on the clock, and more than an active sex life, she valued a good work reputation.

      “Take