Hot on Her Tail

by Karen Anders

  Maxie had been lucky when she happened upon Mesa Roja, a sleepy, little New Mexico town just about seven-hundred miles from Sedona. It was far enough away, yet close enough to suit her if she needed to get back to Sedona in a hurry.

  A jukebox was playing country music. Men were milling about the bar and playing pool, occupying all six pool tables. In the corner behind the pool tables, Maxie caught the thunking sound of darts as patrons attempted to hit the bull’s-eye.

  A huge man with a black handlebar mustache called out from a nearby table. “Come on, Maxie, why don’t you sit a spell on my lap.”

  The other men at the table all laughed.

  “And I sure could use a sit-down, but Handlebar, Star don’t pay me for sitting, sugar. Now you wouldn’t want me to lose my job, would you?”

  She bent down and pinched his cheek, giving him a brilliant smile. “Besides. I don’t think it’s me you’re sweet on,” she whispered softly, glancing at Star as she tended bar.

  Handlebar flushed and followed her gaze. He smiled sheepishly.

  As she turned back toward the bar, exasperation filled her chest. Who would have thought she’d have a good time in such a place? Firecrackers, the nightclub her sister was busy getting ready to open, was a much more sophisticated place, that was true. But these people were down-to-earth and, most of them, although they looked tough, had hearts of gold.

  With thoughts of Firecrackers came the guilt-ridden thoughts of her sister and that she was alone, doing all the work. In the past, Maxie had taken it for granted that her sister would always be there to help her out. After all, she had taken care of Maxie since she’d been sixteen. Unable to handle the constant harping of her mother and the disapproval of her father, Maxie had run away from home. Dorrie hadn’t complained once. Not once. Her sweet sister wasn’t complaining now either. She’d shouldered the responsibility, insisting that Maxie was innocent of all embezzlement charges, and forged along with plans to open the club.

  She rubbed at her temples, the noise in the bar giving her a headache. As a bank manager, a stuffy job she’d hated, she wasn’t used to all this noise. She put her hands on the bar and, for just a moment, leaned on it to rest. Her feet were throbbing; and her legs were on fire, and she wondered why any woman in her right mind would do such a job on a regular basis. Yet, she loved it.

  The heat blast from the door opening engulfed her like a scorching blanket, caressing her from neck to toes. She turned, instinctively alert.

  The source of that heat stood in the open door looking around as if he owned the place. All the air whooshed out of her lungs; her insides went liquid and her knees literally buckled. It’d been a long time since a man had dumbfounded Maxie.

  But this was no ordinary man.

  A fizzle of warning stirred in her stomach. This man was her physical type from the top of his dark head to the tips of his boots. He looked full-blooded Apache, judging by his thick hair and high, chiseled cheekbones. His stunning golden brown eyes traveled her body in an admiring, languorous slide. Stark white teeth flashed against the dimness of the bar. Oh baby, what a mouth, full gorgeous lips made for kissing.

  He wore a pair of tight jeans that fit snug across his groin. A black T-shirt with the slogan Attitude? What Attitude? stretched across his wide, well-muscled chest. His straight hair was as black as a raven’s wing and reached to touch the cotton neck of the shirt.

  She knew she was staring with her mouth wide open. Heel, girl. She was already knee-deep in trouble and the last thing she needed in her life right now was this type of heartbreaker.

  Although, one night with this man might be worth a little heartache. He was every woman’s dream and every father’s nightmare.

  He took an empty table near the door, one that afforded him a good view of the bar but protected his back. Another frisson of warning fizzled in Maxie’s stomach. Who was this guy? A stranger, that was for sure, and strangers in this small town made her nervous.

  It had been almost a month since she’d skipped bail to save the club and no one had come after her. Yet he was obviously cagey, protecting his back. Could he be here for her?

  She took a deep breath, knowing that if he was looking for someone, bolting right now wouldn’t be smart.

  She walked up to the table and flashed him a smile. He looked up at her, his eyes suddenly sliding out of focus.

  “What can I get you, handsome?”

  He didn’t answer her right away, but continued staring at her as if he knew her.

  His intense gaze made her even more nervous. Although he was a little too wild looking for a cop, he had cop eyes. Intelligent and guarded. “Mister?”

  He blinked a couple of times and finally answered. “Beer.” His voice was a low, sexy purr that made the hair on her arms stand up. She swallowed hard.

  “What kind?”

  “Whatever you have on tap.”

  She left the table feeling as if his eyes were burning a hole in her back. She went to the bar. “Hi Star, can you give me a beer?”

  The woman smiled, and poured one from the tap. “Sure is hopping tonight, honey.”

  “It sure is. I’m going to have bruises from my ass all the way to my elbows.”

  Star laughed. “You watch your backside, honey. Keep them in line.”

  Maxie winked and picked up the man’s drink. “Handlebar sure looks good tonight, huh Star? That’s a fine figure of a man.”

  Star looked over at the tall, hard-muscled biker and flushed. “Why would I be interested in him, honey?”

  “Oh, I don’t know, maybe because you can’t keep your eyes off him.”

  Star raised a brow. “Do I pay you for matchmaking or serving?”

  Maxie laughed and turned away from her boss. As she was passing the jukebox, a patron was kicking it. “Spider! Stop that right now.” Named for the huge tattoo he had of a spider on his back, he was a tall and lanky man with a shock of dyed white hair. She gave him a kick in the pants as she sidled by.

  “It took my money!”

  “Kicking it isn’t going to help,” she scolded.

  “Hey, you kicked me,” he said, looking indignant.

  “That, on the other hand, will help.” She flashed him a smile, aware that the stranger watched her every move. It made her skin tingle and her stomach do flip-flops. She pulled a quarter out of her apron pocket and flipped it to Spider. “Stop being a cheap-skate.”

  She set the beer down on the man’s table, but just as she turned away, he touched her arm. Startled by the heated contact of his hard, callused hand, Maxie turned back.

  “Excuse me, but I’m trying to locate someone.” His brown eyes, burning from within by an unholy flame, bore into hers as if he could see all the way to her soul. She shivered. She wouldn’t want to be the one he was looking for…or maybe she would.

  This close to him, she could smell his spicy scent, one that was wholly male. It made her head reel. The laughter and din of the bar receded.

  He let go of her as if he’d been burned and she stepped back. “Sure, mister…” Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Frank try to sneak by her. “Please excuse me for a moment.” She abandoned the stranger and stepped in Frank’s path, blocking him from entering the bar.

  Frank had just given her a good way to get the hell out of Dodge. The stranger made her nervous, but she wasn’t sure if it was because he made her insides go haywire or because he exuded a dangerous, lethal quality. He could very well be looking for her.

  “Frank. Isn’t it payday today?”

  “Ah Maxie. I just want one.” He brushed past her and headed for the bar.

  “Frank. You know you wouldn’t stop at one.” Maxie sidled around him, which also put her closer to the bar and the back door. “Now you go straight to the store and buy your babies some food. Then you give Tami the rest of that money.”

  “One to wet my whistle?” he pleaded.

  Maxie jammed her hands on her hips and rolled her eyes. “Frank Duncan, I will p
ersonally buy a beer for you, if you go and take care of your family first.”

  “All right! You win, but I’m coming back for that beer!”

  “You do that, Frank.” Maxie knew that once he got home to his wife, he wouldn’t be coming anywhere near this bar.

  The stranger was much too alert. His brown eyes didn’t move from her and Maxie knew that she’d better bolt now while she had the chance.

  She slipped between two tables, but one man grabbed her arm and halted her.

  “Maxie, I want another whiskey.”

  “Okay, Snake. Give me a minute.” She hazarded a glance at the stranger. His eyes were still on her. Trying to quell a burst of panic, she gave Snake a winning smile and he let her go.

  A crash and the sound of breaking glass caught Maxie’s attention. Handlebar was standing, well more like swaying, holding a piece of broken glass in his hand.

  He was threatening Spider with it.

  Maxie looked at the back door longingly, then at the stranger. She sighed. This would be a perfect time to get out of here—while there was this ready-made disruption. But Star had been good to her and she didn’t want anything to happen to her establishment or her patrons.

  She knew she could soothe Handlebar. He liked and trusted her, but it was her skin she should worry about. Then she made the mistake of looking in Star’s direction. The worried expression on her face made up Maxie’s mind. She wouldn’t be able to forgive herself if something happened to the tenderhearted biker because she had turned her back.

  Maxie sighed again and moved towards Handlebar. “Handlebar, you know you don’t want to hurt Spider. He’s your best drinking buddy. Besides, think of the mess I’d have to clean up.”

  He looked at her blearily. “He played that damn sad song. I told him not to, but he did it anyway.”

  “Give me the piece of glass, honey, before someone gets hurt.”

  A man at the table shouted. “Are you going to kowtow to some piece of ass, Handlebar? Cut the bastard.”

  “Handlebar, don’t listen to him,” Maxie cajoled. “Listen to me. I know what’s best for you, sugar.” Handlebar stepped toward her, starting to relinquish the jagged bit of beer bottle.

  Spider rose. “You gonna cut me, Handlebar, well come on then. Go ahead.”

  “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

  Suddenly the stranger was there, stepping in front of her, blocking her view of the two circling men. Before Maxie could tell him to get out of her way, Handlebar lunged at Spider. Spider jumped backward and hit the stranger a solid blow. He, in turn, staggered into Maxie, who tried to get out of the way. But she was too late. She stumbled, her back coming up against a wall of muscle. A patron in the bar too drunk to stop his lecherous, impulsive behavior decided it was okay to grab her ass. Pure reaction caused Maxie to screech and turn around swinging. She connected solidly against his jaw. The man let out a bellow and instinctively swung at her.

  But Maxie ducked, and the full force of the punch connected solidly with the stranger’s jaw. He flew into a group of bikers at a pool table. And, like a domino effect, the men toppled. All of them came up swinging.

  Someone hurled a chair, and Maxie knew there was no way she was going to be able to get out of the way in time. But miraculously, the stranger was there, breaking the full force of the chair’s impact against his big body. He grunted in pain, but immediately turned toward her. Maxie wanted to run, but her feet seemed rooted to the floor by the man’s intense hawk-like gaze. Taking hold of her upper arm, he dragged her toward the exit, but stopped when a group of men, just coming into the bar, joined in.

  He swore vehemently under his breath. “Damn fool woman.”

  “Hey,” Maxie protested as he pushed her against the wall near the bar and stood in front of her. How had this happened? She’d been trying to prevent chaos and she’d been the one to start it. If that stupid stranger had minded his own business, none of this would have happened. She’d be through the back door, grabbing up her belongings and hightailing it out of town.

  The bar had turned into a melee of men pummeling each other. Bodies were flying everywhere, over the bar, smashing against tables, crashing into walls. Many tried to get past the big stranger’s guard, but every time he was assaulted, he was the victor.

  Over the din, she could hear the blare of approaching sirens. A few minutes later, deputies came barreling through the door. They broke up the fight and methodically began handcuffing men.

  When a deputy walked over to the stranger, Maxie shoved her way out. She pushed on the stranger’s big, muscled chest. “This is your fault. If you hadn’t gotten in my way, this would never have happened.”

  “Wait a minute,” he started to protest, his eyebrows snapping into a frown over those amazing eyes. Just the color of honey they were.

  The deputy grabbed the stranger’s arm and Maxie threw her hands up in the air. “Charlie. What are you doing? Can’t you see I’m having a conversation here?”

  “Sorry, ma’am. The sheriff says everyone goes.” Just then Maxie spotted Sheriff Clem Stubbins standing in the doorway. She strode over to him. “Clem, that man over there started it.” Maxie pointed at the stranger.

  “Well, Miss Maxie, you sure about that?” the sheriff asked. He tipped his hat back and regarded her with sharp blue eyes.

  Sheepishly Maxie said, “Well, he was partly to blame.” She tried to sidle past him to go out the front door, but he grabbed a hold of her arm.

  Clem’s eyebrows lifted. “Let me guess. You were also partly to blame.” His eyes twinkled.

  “I reacted. It wasn’t entirely my fault.”

  The sheriff smiled. “It never is, Maxie. Can you tell me exactly what happened?”

  “I didn’t actually see everything. I was busy covering my butt.”

  “What?”

  “This big oaf put his hands on my…posterior and well, I reacted. I slugged him. One thing led to another…”

  “Him?” The sheriff indicated the stranger.

  “No not him. Some other oaf.”

  “Round everyone up, Charlie. We’ll get this straightened out down at the jail.”

  “But, Clem…”

  “Now, now, Maxie. Don’t get your rope in a knot. We’ll settle everything down at the jail. I’m getting too old for this,” he muttered. “Retirement is looking better and better every day.”

  “Sheriff, could I have a word with you?” The stranger had walked over while Maxie was trying to give her side of the story. She was hoping the sheriff was going to let her go and haul the stranger off to jail. Just in case she needed a head start.

  “What is it?” he said impatiently.

  The man pulled out two pieces of paper and handed them to the sheriff.

  Clem looked at the stranger, then at Maxie and sighed. “Can I see some ID?”

  The stranger pulled out his wallet and flipped it open with a snap of his wrist. Maxie felt her stomach turn over. “Austin Taggart. They call you Renegade.”

  “That’s right.”

  “I’ve heard of you. I’m going to caution you, boy. If I find out you haven’t treated her with the utmost respect, I’ll find you.”

  The stranger bristled, those amazing eyes turning dangerous, and Maxie could see that he wanted to tell the sheriff to go to hell, but he didn’t.

  The sheriff handed the paper back to Austin and then turned to give her a sad look. “It all seems in order, but listen Renegade, give me a good reason not to haul you to jail.”

  “You could tie me up for a couple of hours, but it wouldn’t change anything. Besides, all I did was protect blondie here from getting hurt.”

  The sheriff addressed her. “Is that true, Maxie?”

  “Yes,” she said reluctantly. “It’s true.”

  The sheriff eyed Austin, deliberating. “You’re free to go.”

  The sheriff walked away and Maxie was getting a real bad feeling about this.

  “So who were you looking
for, Mr. Taggart?”

  He reached for her and captured her hand. The metal of the handcuff made a snicking sound as it latched around her wrist.

  That soft husky voice made her insides go haywire at the same time it sent goose bumps of dread across her skin.

  “Why, I’m looking for you, Ms. Maxwell.”

  2

  AUSTIN HAD BEEN A FOOL to take this job. Close up she was more beautiful and more innocent-looking than she’d been in the photograph. She came up to the middle of his chest, smaller than he’d envisioned, delicate like a pixie. Her features were even more compelling than in the photo, richer and so stunning it was hard for him to keep his mind on what he had to do. Her skin was soft to his touch, and warm, sending detonations of sensation down his arms. Her hair was honey blond and spiked around her head and face as if she’d just rolled out of some guy’s bed. He clamped down on his damned inconvenient hormones and took hold of her other wrist. She pulled it out of his grasp and backed up.

  “It’s all a mistake.”

  The sound of her voice affected him way too much with its warm, deep sound. “In what way?” he asked in a purely uninterested voice.

  “I didn’t steal the money. I was framed.” She struggled against his grip on her. Austin increased the pressure, aware that any more would probably bruise her, and he didn’t want to hurt her or mar her lovely skin.

  “I’m not going to argue with you about whether or not you’re guilty. I’m here to take you back to Sedona and pick up my paycheck.” He reached for her other wrist again but she jerked back, putting distance between them. The distance was good, but he wished she would stop struggling so that he could snap the other cuff on her. He wanted to take his hands off her. He didn’t like the sensations that were pouring through him from the innocent contact of his hand around her wrist.

  “That’s exactly my dilemma. I can’t go back just now. I need to stall for just a few more days.”

  He easily dragged her forward and thrust his face close to hers, having to bend down to do it. If reasoning wasn’t going to work, he’d have to get mean. He hated to get mean, especially with such a small, delicate woman. “This is not a debate, blondie.”