Cocky Cowboy: A Second Chance Romance (Cocker Brothers of Atlanta Book 3) Read Online Free PDF

“Let me guess. That’s why you were in jail today.”
    Can’t help but grimace at her knowing I was behind bars. “Uh…”
    Mom cocks her head. “Your father tells me everything, Jaxson.”
    “I don’t doubt it.”
    They’ve got the strongest relationship I’ve ever witnessed in my life. Gives us brothers a very high standard to meet, and we all know it.
    Mom asks me, “Are you going to answer the question?” with a look like she knows I won’t.
    “Can you check?”
    She shrugs, “Sure.”
    “Now?”
    She laughs and waves a hand at me as she head for the landline rotary-dial phone, a relic of her mother’s, which she refuses to part with since she thinks it’s kitschy.
    Soon I’m patiently watching her chat up a lady-friend who’s also the secretary of the club, about little things until she finally gets to the point.
    “I know this is going to sound strange, Constance, but have you heard anything about Ellen and John Sawyer?” Her expression changes as she glances my way. “They moved back to Atlanta? How interesting. Well, I’ll have to reach out and say hello.” After another pause, Mom’s laugh reveals her friend remembers the rivalry she and Mrs. Sawyer had. “Yes, well, maybe she’s softened in her old age. Arden Road, you say? What’s the house number, do you have it in your records?” She writes it down on a slip of notepaper that always rests on the phone-table. “That’s a nice neighborhood. Not as nice as ours though.” Another laugh. “Goodbye, Constance, don’t work too hard. It is Saturday after all.”
    Mom tears the top sheet off and walks back for her wine glass. “Look at that. The humidity has already caused condensation and I’d only just set the thing down!” Eyeing me like we’re part of a secret plan, she whispers, “If I give you their address, will you be in jail again later tonight?”
    Amused, I smirk, “You know me better than that, Mom.”
    “I know that of all of your brothers you are the least likely to punch someone who hasn’t hit you first, Jaxson. That’s what I know.” She cocks her hip out to lean against the counter with me. “So what I’m wondering is…what are you up to?”
    “You really think I’m going to tell you?” I smirk.
    Her smile grows. “No. I don’t.”
    “That’s my girl.”
    “I wish I had some. You boys are a mystery to me, most days.”
    “You raised us to be like that.”
    Her brown eyes twinkle with mischief. “Indeed I did. No pussies in our family.”
    Laughing, I kiss her cheek and tell her, “I’ll be back later.”

Jaxson
    T apping my Jeep’s steering wheel I stare at the large two-story American Foursquare house set deep inside a well-landscaped lawn.
    I’ve watched a feminine-shaped, gracefully moving silhouette pass one of the second-story windows enough times to indicate she’s alone, and she’s pacing.
    What’s going on up there?
    Is it Rachel?
    It could be her mother. Can’t be sure because gauzy curtains are in my way.
    The lights shut off downstairs a half-hour ago.
    I’ve been biding my time.
    I’m a patient man most days.
    Working a ranch will do that to a man, but I was also born with a natural calm in my bones, so this itchy impatience is an anomaly.
    What I want to know is, where is the douche bag?
    I haven’t seen a man’s silhouette pass that window once. If it were Ellen Sawyer’s room, then John would be there, too, I reckon.
    Is it possible that Rachel and her boyfriend aren’t allowed to stay in the same room while they’re visiting?
    Fuck, I don’t even know if she’s staying here or if she moved back to Atlanta, too.
    She could be in a whole different neighborhood.
    John Sawyer could be sleeping in the chair downstairs and that’s Ellen pissed that he’s been drinking.
    I’m making up possibilities.
    I have no idea if he even drinks.
    Am I really going to chance this?
    Fuck it.
    Stepping out of my Jeep my boots hit the cement hard, and I head toward the house.
    Only