Saving Savannah (Haven Book 3) Read online

  Saving Savannah

  Haven, Texas

  Laylah Roberts

  Copyright

  Laylah Roberts

  Saving Savannah

  © 2017, Laylah Roberts

  [email protected]

  laylahroberts.com

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. This book contains material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without express written permission from the author / publisher.

  This story contains explicit sex scenes and BDSM. R18

  Cover Design by: Spellbound Cover Designs

  Editing: Eve Arroyo

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  Books by Laylah Roberts

  Doms of Decadence

  Just for You, Sir

  Forever Yours, Sir

  For the Love of Sir

  Sinfully Yours, Sir

  Make me, Sir

  A Taste of Sir

  To Save Sir (coming February, 2018)

  Men of Orion

  Worlds Apart

  Cavan Gang

  Rectify

  Redemption

  Redemption Valley

  Audra’s Awakening

  Old-Fashioned Series

  An Old-Fashioned Man

  Two Old-Fashioned Men

  Her Old-Fashioned Husband

  Her Old-Fashioned Boss

  His Old-Fashioned Love

  Haven, Texas Series

  Lila’s Loves

  Laken’s Surrender

  Saving Savannah

  WildeSide

  Wilde

  Sinclair

  Luke

  The Hunters

  A Mate to Cherish

  Prologue

  Savannah scowled down at the deflating tire.

  Crap. Crap. Crap.

  She knew she should have paid attention to that light on the dashboard. But she’d been too busy enjoying her new-found sense of freedom to pay attention to some pesky warning light.

  She certainly regretted that decision now.

  One more thing added to her growing list of fuckups.

  Savannah let out a sigh and looked up and down the empty dirt road. She’d driven along this lane for twenty minutes already and hadn’t encountered another vehicle, so it was unlikely a car was going to drive by now.

  “This has all the makings of a horror movie,” she muttered. “Flat tire, chubby city girl, and a deserted road. Jesus, Savannah, think of the mileage momma will get out of that.”

  Kidnapped, raped, and murdered? Her mother could milk that for years.

  Not nice, Savannah.

  She wiped her forehead and stared down at her car forlornly. It had to be ninety-five degrees out here. Even dressed in cut-off, denim shorts and a sleeveless top she was already sweaty and uncomfortable.

  Reaching into the too-hot car, she grabbed her cell phone. Would roadside assistance come to this region of never-never land? They had to, right? Because Lord knew, she didn’t have any idea what she was doing.

  Ladies don’t get their hands dirty, Savannah. Leave it to a man. It makes them feel important.

  Another life lesson from momma dearest.

  She snorted. “Well, Momma, soon as I’m settled down somewhere new, the first thing I’m going to do is learn how to change a damn tire.”

  Oh, and then maybe she’d take a photo of her dirty hands and send it to her mother. Who was she kidding? She’d never be brave enough to do that.

  But thinking about it sure was fun.

  “Are you kidding me?” She stared at her phone in disbelief. “No service? Is that even possible?”

  That was going to be a problem.

  ***

  Logan Ferguson slowed down his truck as he came to a corner in the road.

  “It’ll be good to get home,” Max said tiredly.

  Logan grunted.

  “Hard to believe we have a home. Something we own. All that hard work paid off.”

  They’d saved for years for the deposit on a small spread. Taken on some risky jobs to build up a nest egg. And even though they owed the bank more money that he was comfortable with, it was still theirs.

  “Wish Gary was here. I’d love to show him what we’ve achieved.”

  Logan smiled. “Yep.”

  “Old bastard is probably spinning in his grave,” Max said with satisfaction.

  “One can hope.” Anything that caused that asshole grief in the afterlife was okay by Logan.

  “We can make a success of this, Logan. It’s what we always wanted. It’s going to be a hard few years; we’ll have to work our butts off. But then we’ll have the loans paid off, and it’ll be all ours.”

  Nothing would get in the way of their plans.

  “And then we can move on to phase two.”

  Logan frowned slightly.

  “You having second thoughts about that?” Max asked. As twins, they’d always been more in tune with each other than normal siblings were.

  Max was the outgoing one. The one who made friends easily. He always had a plan. He made things happen.

  Logan was the support crew. He preferred the company of animals to people. Okay, that sounded a bit weird, but other than Max and a couple of close friends, Logan didn’t care for people.

  In his experience, most just brought trouble with them.

  “You don’t want a woman?”

  Phase one was to build up their ranch, to make it a success.

  Phase two was to find a woman to share. A wife, babies, happily ever after.

  Well, that was Max’s plan. Logan wasn’t so sure.

  “Not that. It’s just . . .”

  “What? You’re worried she won’t want both of us?”

  “Lot to ask of a female.” He didn’t understand women. At least with men he knew what motivated them—power, money, and their dicks.

  Women were a whole different breed with their emotional needs, their gentler temperament, their soft, fragile bodies.

  He looked down at his large, worn hands. That was him. Oversized, and rough around the edges. Not exactly a catch.

  But Max was. Women flocked to him.

  Max rested his elbow on the window frame. “That’s part of the reason we’ve moved back to Haven; ménage relationships are practically the norm around here.”

  They’d lived in Haven until they were fifteen, and their mother married Gary. Then they’d moved to a small town just outside Dallas that Logan and Max had hated. Of course, they’d probably have hated anywhere they’d had to live with Gary. That asshole had made all their lives hell.

  If their dad hadn’t died, their lives would have taken a very different path. Logan had taken a job on an oil rig as soon as he turned eighteen and Max had joined the armed forces. They hadn’t wanted to leave their mom—she was the only reason they’d stayed as long as they had—but they couldn’t bear staying with that jerk any longer.

  Being separated from each other had been hard. They’d always had a special relationship—closer than most brothers.

  Their dad had been a good guy. He’d shown them how to treat a woman. How to care for her. He’d cherished the ground his wife had walked on. If he’d still been alive, she wouldn’t have ended up so frail that a winter cold had turned into a bout pneumonia.

  Logan knew Max still felt guilty that he hadn’t been there for her. He’d been overseas and hadn’t managed to return home before she di
ed. Logan had arrived in time to say goodbye so at least she hadn’t died alone. Gary had been too busy to sit by his dying wife’s bedside.

  “We discussed this, Logan. You agreed that sharing a woman was what we both wanted.”

  Because Max had wanted his agreement. Logan didn’t like to argue. Many an idiot had tried to pick a fight with him because of his size, only to be disappointed as he walked away. Nope, arguments weren’t his thing. If he didn’t want to do something, he didn’t do it. And if a woman didn’t want him then he wasn’t going to force her to take him on just because Max thought they came as some sort of damn package deal.

  They’d shared women before. Just sexual encounters, but he couldn’t deny how right it had felt. Oh, it had been a little weird in the beginning. Logan had been worried about accidentally touching Max’s cock. He might like sharing women with his brother but that didn’t mean he wanted to be up close and personal with his brother’s love snake. But he liked how much pleasure they could bring a woman when they worked together.

  “Most women won’t want two men. Not permanently.”

  “I don’t think we’ll have any problems finding a woman who’ll want us,” Max said arrogantly.

  Logan didn’t share his confidence. “You won’t. Women like you.”

  “Maybe if you talked to them instead of just grunting or ignoring them, women would pay attention to you as well. If you don’t watch out, you’ll get RSI in your wrist, because I know damn well you aren’t getting relief any other way.”

  Logan snarled at his brother.

  Max just glared back at him. “Women aren’t evil, you know. You can let one get close to you.”

  “I’m not ready for a relationship.”

  “So that means you can’t get laid? That you have to be a damn monk until you find ‘the one’?”

  What was wrong with that? He’d had his share of meaningless sex when he was younger. It didn’t interest him any longer. The women who hung around Max didn’t even get his dick hard. He was starting to wonder if there was something wrong with him.

  But he wasn’t going to tell his brother that.

  “Sharing a wife is what we’ve always talked about, Logan. Taking care of her together. Giving her twice as much love. And pleasure.”

  She’d have to be a pretty special woman.

  “And what if she doesn’t want me?”

  “Then she’s not the one for us.” Max sighed and ran his hand through his dark hair. They weren’t identical twins. Logan was taller and wider with light-brown hair and hazel eyes, whereas Max’s eyes were gray, his hair darker.

  “Why are we talking about this? We agreed to wait until the ranch was making good money to even think about looking for a woman to settle down with.”

  That was one thing they agreed on. Because any woman of theirs was going to be protected, pampered and cherished. No working herself into an early grave just to put food on the table.

  “Yeah, I know,” Max said. “We’re not in a place to care for a woman right now. But eventually we will be, and I need to know you’re with me on this.”

  “You really think we’ll find someone to take on the two of us?” Two dominant, alpha men who’d expect their woman to follow their rules.

  Haven was a special place. Where the men had sworn to watch out for all the women. Ensuring they were safe. That they were taken care of. Ménage relationships were common and no one wanted their women ridiculed or made to feel like they were doing something wrong because they chose to live this way.

  If there was any hint of danger, all the women knew they were to obey the men closest to them until their men arrived. And if a woman put herself at risk, then look out.

  Her butt would pay the price.

  All of the single women in town were watched closely and if they needed extra help or protection, it was within the sheriff’s right to assign guardians.

  The old sheriff and town council hadn’t always followed the rules like they should have. If they’d given their mother the support she needed, maybe she wouldn’t have left town with Gary after their dad died. However, Jake Reynolds had taken over as sheriff a few years back, and things had changed. For the better.

  “Of course, there is. She’s out there. We’ll find her when we least expect it.”

  Logan squinted as he looked up ahead. “Is that a car?”

  “Looks like they’ve got a flat tire.”

  “You recognize the vehicle?”

  Max shook his head. “Nope, but its shiny and new, and like nothing anyone around here would be caught dead in.”

  Logan pulled off the road and parked behind the small, red Porsche.

  “Can’t see anyone.” Max grabbed his hat. “Think someone’s already picked them up?”

  “Driver’s door’s open.” Logan grabbed his own hat and climbed out of the cab of his dusty, beat-up truck before settling it on his head. He studied the car. The layer of dust didn’t disguise that it was an expensive ride. Max wasn’t kidding when he said no one around here would be seen in something like this. It was made for speed and agility, not bumpy, gravel roads.

  “Hello? Anyone here?” Max called out, looking around. He pulled the latch for the trunk. “I’ll see if there’s a spare.”

  “Where the hell did they go?”

  “Don’t know. It’s probably some city fool who panicked when they realized there’s no cell service and took off on foot to get help.”

  “Let’s hope they don’t get lost or we’ll be searching for them half the night. What kind of fool drives a car like this on these roads?”

  Max moved out from the back of the car and held up a huge, white wedding dress. “A female one, I’d say.”

  Savannah had heard enough. As soon as she’d seen the truck coming, she’d dived into the small ditch at the side of the road. She wasn’t going to end up a victim. But she couldn’t just sit here and listen to these two cowboys call her a fool and watch them go through her stuff!

  She climbed out of the ditch and strode towards them. “Put the dress down, asshole, and back away.”

  The look of shock on the big cowboy’s face would have been funny under other circumstances, but she was not in a laughing mood today. He dropped her very expensive, one-of-a-kind, designer dress in the dirt.

  “No! Not right there.” She leaped for the dress and pulled it up, beating at the dust.

  The cowboy just stared at her. He opened his mouth then closed it. gazed up at him, noting how cute he was. Tanned skin, brown eyes, a few days’ worth of growth on his cheeks.

  Alistair shaved twice a day. He liked to boast that his skin was as soft as a baby’s. She’d always been slightly repulsed by that. But this man wouldn’t have smooth skin. She bet his hands were hard and callused, his body firm with muscle. A flush of heat filled her body.

  His eyes narrowed, and he studied her. Oh, hell. He couldn’t tell she found him attractive, right? Nah, she had an excellent poker face.

  “I’ll pay to get it cleaned,” he finally said.

  “I’m thinking about burning it. You wouldn’t need to get it cleaned if I did that.”

  His eyes widened.

  “I had this idea about stuffing it full of straw, throwing it on a bonfire and roasting marshmallows while videoing the whole damn thing. But realistically I’ll probably just sell it for a fraction of what it cost my mother to buy it. She was the one who wanted this dress anyway. Personally, I think it’s a bit over the top. I mean, I can’t burn a twenty-five-thousand-dollar dress just because Alistair is an asshole, right?”

  She looked down at the dress. “I also thought about chopping it up, and each week I’d send him a piece in the mail, but then I figured that might be considered harassment and I don’t want to go to jail. I’ve only just regained my freedom.”

  “Freedom?” another voice asked.

  With a squeal, she turned, placing her hand over her racing heart. The dress nearly fell from her hands, and she dragged it back up. The
damn thing weighed a ton.

  “Where did you come from?” she squeaked up at the huge man looming over her. He had to be at least a foot taller than she was. He glared down at her. She glared back. She didn’t know why he was so grumpy she was the one he’d nearly given a heart attack.

  “I’ve been standing here the whole time. You brushed right past me.”

  “Oh.” She had? “Sorry I didn’t notice you. I was focused on my dress. I promise it’s not because you’re not memorable or anything. I’m sure I would have noticed you eventually.”

  “I’m not so sure,” he muttered.

  She frowned slightly, uncertain what he meant.

  “Well?” he asked.

  “Well, what?” Jeez, he was in a bad mood. Still, she guessed nobody liked to be overlooked. She wasn’t sure how she’d missed him. He was even taller than the other cowboy, and, boy, those shoulders. She’d always had a thing for wide shoulders. And hands. She loved a man’s hands.

  Well, not Alistair’s hands. They’d been as soft as the rest of him.

  She sighed. She wasn’t being fair. She was sure Alistair would make someone a very good husband.

  If that someone liked lying, rat-bastard, selfish, cheating assholes.

  “Hello? You okay?”

  The extra-big cowboy waved his hand in front of her face.

  “Yes, of course. My car has a flat tire, though.” Idiot, Savannah. They know that. “I was hiding in the ditch because I was worried you guys might be serial killers or something.”

  “What made you decide we’re not?”

  “Logan,” the other one warned.

  She frowned slightly. “I don’t know; you just don’t sound like serial killers.”

  “What the hell does a serial killer sound like?” Logan’s eyes widened. Cool name. Very cowboy.

  “I don’t know. Maybe more like this, Clarice.” She did her best impression of Hannibal Lector.

  Logan looked over at the other one. “Can you believe this?”