Pop-py! Pop-py! Pop-py!

The crowd’s chant was electrifying.

It was everything Poppy Hennessy had dreamed about ever since she was a little girl growing up in a Podunk town where she and her family had been looked down upon. Not only for owning the wildest honky tonk in Texas, but also for having the wildest offspring.

The Promise Springs’ townsfolk had labeled her and her three older brothers the Hennessy Hooligans. She couldn’t say the title was undeserved. With a gambler daddy who was never there and a drinking, cussing, smoking mama who had no mothering skills whatsoever, she and her siblings had run wild. But her brothers had caused most of the mischief. They were a team. She was merely their annoying little sister, tagging along in hopes of getting a scrap of their attention.

Or anyone’s attention.

Now she had it.

So why wasn’t she stepping out of the shadows and into the bright lights? Why did she stand there frozen with her palm sweating on the cool lacquered neck of her guitar and her heart banging against her ribs like the drummer’s intro beats?

“Freeze up again, Ice Pop?” a familiar voice asked.

Poppy whirled to see her ex-boyfriend.

Wylynn looked as sexy as always with his blond hair arranged in a perfectly mussed bad-boy tousle and his scruff trimmed just enough to look edgy rather than derelict. A smirk tipped his mouth. A mouth she had lost herself in more times than she could count. A mouth that had promised her love and then shattered her heart with one brutal sentence.

I thought you were a strong woman full of fire, but underneath all your sass is just a scared little girl who freezes up when things get too real.

Even now she could read the sad disappointment in his brown eyes.

As if on cue, the crowd’s chants changed.

“Wy-lynn! Wy-lynn! Wy-lynn!”

He shrugged. “It could’ve been you and me together, but you just couldn’t take the heat, Ice Pop.” He headed out on stage.

Poppy started after him, ready to throw his words back in his face, but her feet refused to move. She glanced down to discover two huge blocks of ice had encased the poppy-embossed cowboy boots Wylynn had bought her. Slowly, that ice started to spread up her legs in crackling glaciers, covering her hips, waist, chest, and finally her head.

Yet, even encased in ice, she could still hear the roar of approval as Wylynn started to sing. She wanted to scream with frustration, but all she could do was shiver in her frozen cocoon and watch as Wylynn stole her dream.

Poppy woke from the nightmare with her teeth chattering and her entire body covered in goosebumps. She opened her eyes to the glow of the television as the movie credits for Disney’s Frozen scrolled up the screen. Which meant she’d only slept a little over an hour. She groaned with frustration and searched for the remote in the blankets she’d kicked to the floor.

Once the television was off, she tried to go back to sleep, but it was useless. The nightmare was too vivid in her mind. So she did what she’d been doing since Wylynn had broken up with her. She grabbed her cellphone from the nightstand and stalked him on social media.

She knew doomscrolling through pictures and videos of him singing with the band—and the pretty blond backup singer he’d replaced her with—wasn’t doing her any good, but she couldn’t seem to stop. Like most nights, she would have continued her pathetic stalking until the sun peeked through the curtains if the distinct sound of bootheels on tile hadn’t drawn her attention.

If it had been a few months earlier, she would have assumed it was one of her brothers. But none of them lived in the monstrosity of a house their mama had left them. Jaxon and Huck were married and living with their wives, while Dawson lived with his fiancée above the town bookstore. Her brothers still stopped by frequently to check on her, and Huck spent most days working in their late daddy’s carpentry shop less than a hundred yards from the house, but none of them would visit this early.

Which meant it wasn’t one of her brothers who bumped into something in the kitchen and released a gruff fuck.

She started to dial 911 when common sense prevailed.

Sheriff Gentry was now her oldest brother’s father-in-law. Which meant that word of someone breaking into the Hennessys’ house would get back to Jaxon. He was already concerned about Poppy living in the house alone. If he found out someone had broken in—or just walked in since she now realized she’d forgotten to lock the front door—he would insist she move in with him and his wife, Tully. Or he and Tully would move in here.

Poppy wasn’t about to let that happen.

Besides the nightmares and social media stalking, she had occasional—or not so occasional—crying jags. Her brothers knew she was upset over Wylynn breaking up with her, but they didn’t know the extent of her heartache. And she didn’t want them to know. She’d spent her life convincing them she was as tough as they were. She wasn’t about to shatter that image now.

Besides, if any of her overprotective brothers found out, they would try to fix things. Like Dawson, who had beaten up a boy at school for teasing her about her underdeveloped boobs. Or Huck, who had found her staring longingly at homecoming dresses online and forced one of his friends to take her to the dance. Poor Richie had been so embarrassed to arrive with a skinny, pimply freshman that he’d gotten rip roaring drunk. She’d had to drive him home—and had gotten a ticket for driving without a license.

She could deal with a home intruder. As a bartender, it wasn’t like she hadn’t had to deal with jerks before.

Unplugging her phone from its charger, she slipped it into the pocket of her Sleeping Beauty pajama pants before she headed to her closet. Seeing as how it was as messy as her life, it took her a while to locate her old softball bat. Once she had it in hand, she crept down the hallway toward the kitchen.

Holding the bat like she was ready to knock a ball out of the park, she stepped into the kitchen and yelled in her most badass voice, “I’d leave right now, motherfucker, or I’m going to split your head open like an overripe watermelon!”

There was no reply. Probably because there was no one in the kitchen.

She was about to check out the living room when a noise came from Jaxon’s wing of the house. Her late daddy had never been a homebody, but he’d stayed home long enough to build a wing for each of his children. They jutted out from the main house like mismatched points on a pinwheel. Each had its own exterior material and roof. Each had its own hallway and bathroom.

When she turned down Jaxon’s hallway, she immediately noticed light spilling out from beneath the bathroom door. As she moved closer, she could hear the shower running.

Since intruders didn’t break into houses to take showers, Poppy’s tense shoulders relaxed and she dropped the bat. With three brothers, she’d seen her fair share of naked male parts, so she didn’t hesitate to try the door. When it was unlocked, she walked right in.

“So what happened? Did Tully finally get tired of your controlling ways and cancel your trip to—”

She cut off when the shower curtain jerked back.

A man stood beneath the spray of steamy water, but it wasn’t her brother.

Nor was it a stranger.

Poppy instantly recognized the hard, chiseled facial features surrounded by wet ebony ringlets. The long lashes and high cheekbones that any woman would kill for. The nasty-looking scar that started at the corner of a dark eyebrow and slashed across one of those perfect cheekbones. And the stormy blue eyes that stared back at her as if she was a nasty rash he couldn’t get rid of.

What she didn’t recognize was the body below that face.

While she had witnessed its strength tossing out one obnoxious drunk after another from Honky Tonk Heaven, she had never gotten a full view of the muscles behind that strength.

There were a lot.

Not one ounce of fat softened the building blocks of water-drenched muscles. Tribal tattoos sleeved both arms, but his broad chest didn’t have one—just a thatch of black hair bookended by two brown nipples. Her gaze lingered there for a moment before dropping to the neat rows of abdominal muscles—not six but eight—all framed by sexy V-shaped grooves that ran along the inside of his hipbones all the way down to his . . .

Holy shit.

Poppy’s eyes widened at the muscle hanging there. They widened even more when it started to twitch and lengthen. Before she could acknowledge the twitches of sexual awareness zinging through her own body, the semi-erection was covered by a large hand encircled at the wrist by a band of turquoise and silver.

Her gaze snapped up to his face.

It held the same serious expression it always held . . . with one slight difference. His cheeks were flushed a deep pink. His obvious embarrassment surprised her. She had never taken him for the type to get embarrassed—or show any kind of emotion. Anger. Joy. Sadness. He performed his job as head bouncer at Honky Tonk Heaven like Robo Cop: If people caused trouble, he tossed them out. With few words and no sympathy.

And yet, there Steele stood blushing and hiding his obvious sexual response to her leering with one hand like a scared virgin. The image would have made her laugh if he hadn’t been standing in her brother’s shower.

She crossed her arms and scowled. “Just what do you think you’re doing? How dare you come into my house uninvited. You’re lucky I didn’t bash you in the head with a baseball bat.”

He turned off the water before reaching for the towel on the rack. She got one more peek of eye-popping, hard male before he wrapped the white terry towel around his lean hips and tucked in an end. She struggled to keep her gaze off the pitched tent in front as he stepped out of the tub.

She was used to big men. Her brothers were all over six foot. But Steele topped them by a few inches. In nothing but a towel, he seemed to take up the entire bathroom. And all the air in it. She struggled to breathe as his gaze swept her from head to toe.

After the breakup, she’d found comfort in her old Disney princess sleepwear. Since her brothers had bought her princess merchandise all the way through middle school, the pajamas still fit —if not a little snuggly. She waited for him to comment on the three flying fairies with wands extended and fairy dust circling, but he didn’t.

“Uninvited? You didn’t know I was coming? I thought that was why you left the front door open.”

She snorted. “I certainly didn’t leave the door open for you.”

“So Jaxon didn’t tell you?”

“Tell me what?”

He studied her for a moment before he held up a hand. “Look, I don’t want to cause problems between you and your brother. I’ll just get dressed and leave.”

“You do that.” She turned and walked out of the bathroom. As soon as she got into the kitchen, she called Jaxon. Always a light sleeper, he answered on the second ring, his voice barely above a whisper.

“What the hell, Pops? Why are you calling me at—”

She cut him off. “What the hell is right! Why did I just discover Steele showering in my bathroom?”

“Your bathroom? Steele took a shower in your bathroom? He probably just got confused about what wing of the house is his.”

“His? Not one wing of this house is his!”

Through the receiver she heard a door closing before Jaxon spoke louder. “Now calm down, Pops. I know Steele doesn’t own any part of the house. He’s just going to rent a room there. Or not really rent since room and board are part of the package deal I offered him.”

“What package deal?”

“The assistant manager package deal.”

She exploded. “You promoted Steele to Honky Tonk Heaven’s assistant manager when he’s only worked there a few months?”

“True, but in those few months, he’s more than proven his worth. And Tully and I need someone we can trust to take over things while we’re on our belated honeymoon. Especially since none of my siblings are interested in helping run the dancehall.”

“We help!”

“Huck and Dawson help occasionally. And while I appreciate you working there so much, you don’t want to run a dancehall, Pops. And I don’t want you to. I want you to follow your dream of becoming a country music star.” A huge knot formed in her stomach. How could she follow her dream when she couldn’t even pick up her guitar without sobbing like the pathetic loser she was? Unaware of her thoughts, Jaxon continued. “Once Tully and I get back from Turks and Caicos, I’m going to hire another bartender, so you won’t have to work at Honky Tonk Heaven at all. So you shouldn’t be upset that I promoted Steele.”

“So now he’s my boss?”

“Well . . . not exactly. You’re still partial owner. But it would be nice if you made the effort to get along with him.”

“How can I get along with a man who never says more than two words to me?”

“Why should he talk to you when you’ve been nothing but mean to him since he started working?”

“I haven’t been mean to him.”

Jaxon went quiet for a beat. “You haven’t been nice. I know Steele has only worked with us for a few months, but it’s long enough to know he’s a good, honest man and a hard worker. Honest, good workers are hard to find. Especially ones who are willing to move to a small Podunk town.”

“He’s moving to Promise Springs?”

“It makes sense if he’s going to be the assistant manager. He’ll need to be close if there’s a problem and Austin is a good hour away.” Jaxon hesitated. “What would it hurt to let him have one wing of our big ol’ house, Pops?”

“A lot. I don’t want to live with some grumpy guy who looks at me like I’m a fly in his sweet tea. If you trust him so much, you can have him move in with you and Tully.”

“You know we don’t have the room now that Tully’s mama moved in with us until she can find a place of her own . . . or hopefully get back with Tully’s daddy.”

“Then Steele can get a hotel. But he’s not staying here.”

Jaxon sighed. “Fine. I’ll figure something else out . . . tomorrow. You can host Steele for one night.” She would have continued to argue if he hadn’t added. “Please, Pops.” It was impossible to say no to any of her brothers when they pleaded.

“Fine. One night. But I’m not making him breakfast or sharing my mini donuts!” (Excerpt of Promise Me a Lucky Texas Star by Katie Lane)