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Countdown T-minus seven days….

    “There had better not be any strippers, Vincent Rhone.” Lacy’s
    brown eyes were glaring daggers at him, and they hadn’t even left the
    house yet.
    Throwing his hands up, he rolled his eyes. “Seriously, Lace, for
    the last time, there will be no strippers. D didn’t want any.”
    “Damn right I didn’t. I get to look at the sexiest woman alive
    right here in my own house for the rest of my days. Why the hell
    would I need some skank rubbing her g-string on me?” Drannon said
    joining them in the living room.
    Hawke followed close behind looking sour-faced. “I’m not
    getting locked into fifty years of wedlock, why can’t I enjoy the
    skank in a g-string?”
    “Because, this isn’t your bachelor party, and I value my nads,”
    Vin said shortly, his hand instinctively covering the body parts Lacy
    had threatened to remove if she found out there were exotic dancers
    hired for the male only event.
    The funny thing about the whole situation was that Drannon had
    given him strict instructions from the moment he asked him to be his
    best man. Vin had agreed because the night was about making
    Drannon happy, not the party attendees, so he’d planned a poker
    tournament and set the whole thing up in secret with the bar owner’s
    help. Mick Cavanaugh and his wife Carly had been only too willing
    to let the men use their place and had even posted signs yesterday
    explaining that the Watering Hole was closed for a private party.
    Lori King
    “Already pussy whipped,” Hawke taunted. “May as well have
    those suckers removed and made into a necklace so that everyone can
    see she owns them—lock, stock, and barrel.”
    Roman came in behind Hawke at that moment and heard his
    vicious teasing. A split second later, Hawke was reeling from a sharp
    knock to the head, and Lacy was grinning at Roman like he’d hung
    the moon.
    “Thanks Romeo, he needed that.” Lacy turned to Hawke and
    wrinkled her nose. “You’re going to stay single if you keep up that
    attitude.”
    Drannon hugged her from behind and kissed her temple. “Just
    ignore him, baby. He’s got a case of dumbass, and it won’t go away
    until he finds the right woman.”
    “Hey!” Vin protested. Drannon gave him a sheepish grin and
    shrugged.
    “Sorry, Vin, but we’ve all been there. Each one of us went
    through a round of catting around town like we had nine lives to use
    up.”
    “I have no idea what you’re referring to,” Vin declared with a
    straight face, and his other brothers snickered. “I’ve been a model
    citizen since leaving prison.”
    “And what about the years before that?” Roman called out. “I
    seem to recall you saying a pair of fatigues on a Marine was like
    catnip for the pussies around town.”
    Unfortunately for Roman, Franki and Marilyn chose that exact
    moment to join them in the living room, and they both gasped
    hearing the tail end of his statement.
    “Roman!” Franki’s eyes were wide and she looked stunned. “I
    can’t believe what I’m hearing.”
    “Wait, now it wasn’t me who said that.” Roman lifted his hands
    defensively and tossed a pitiful look Vin’s way. “Tell ’em Vin.”
    “Sorry, Romeo, gotta go or we’ll be late. Meetcha at the truck.”
    Vin tipped his bandana-covered head at his brother in a mock
    apology and beat feet out the door to avoid the coming scolding. He
    laughed as he and his brothers piled into his four-door pickup,

    30
    Claiming His Cowgirl
    Roman cursing him all the way. It was a great way to start a great
    night, and he was excited to get into town.
    Mick’s Watering Hole had been around for ages, and it was the
    preferred haunt for anyone who’d been around Montford before the
    population boom. Recently, new businesses had begun popping up to
    serve the increasing demand, but it was still local hotspots like
    Mick’s that held the appeal for the natives.
    Carly and Mick were manning the bar together, and Vin made a
    beeline