Rules of Protection (Tangled in Texas) (Volume 1)

by Alison Bliss

  “What’s wrong, princess? Your tiara bent out of shape?”

  “Why don’t you go tip a cow, you bastard?”

  “Because teasing the bull is more my speed.” He peered over my shoulder. “Oh, look, here comes your boyfriend.”

  His bull reference nailed it. Jake, red-faced with flaring nostrils, charged through the crowd with a powerful gait. He practically bucked Cowboy, Ox, and Judd off as they tried to stop his forward motion.

  By the time Jake trampled past me, the boys had a firm hold, not allowing him to get close to Jeremy, who had taken a few steps back. I worried what would’ve happened if Jake’s matadors had not intervened.

  Jake must’ve realized everyone in the bar had stopped and watched. The feral, inhuman look left his eyes. His posture relaxed, as if he flipped a switch and forced himself to calm down.

  “I’m fine,” he told his friends, wanting them to release their grip. They must’ve believed him since they let him go.

  “Problem, Jake?” Jeremy asked smugly.

  “You mean besides you not keeping your hands or mouth to yourself?” Jake replied in an even-tempered voice. “She’s with me. You keep your damn hands off her, or I’ll break them. Same goes for your mouth.”

  Jeremy’s eyes lit up with the challenge. “My mistake. I thought she was a hooker.”

  “You sonofabitch!” I reared back and punched him in his nose, which hurt my hand.

  Jake grinned with only a small amount of satisfaction. “How’d that feel?”

  Jeremy shook it off, though his eyes watered slightly. “She hits like a girl,” he mumbled.

  “I am a girl, you douchebag!” I shouted, still rubbing my knuckles and shaking my hand in the air.

  “You always let a woman do your fighting for you, Jake?”

  “Hey, you called her a hooker,” Jake said with a shrug. “What’d you expect? You should apologize to the lady.” It was more a demand than a request, but I didn’t like how I got edged out of the conversation.

  “You’re kidding me, right?” Jeremy laughed and said in a crass tone, “Lady, my ass. She isn’t even wearing any panties.”

  Impulsively, I launched myself at him. Jake caught me around the waist with one arm. I wriggled out of his grip, but he yanked me back and handed me off to Cowboy. “Here, hold her for a second,” Jake told him.

  Cowboy shoved me behind him, keeping one hand resting on my hip, making sure I stayed put. It was a defensive move rather than conflict management. Jake expected trouble and wanted me out of the way. Things were about to turn sour.

  “You’re going to apologize to Emily right now, or I’m going to break your jaw,” Jake threatened, his fist already clenched at his side.

  “I’ll do you one better,” Jeremy said, laughing. He tossed a wink over Jake’s shoulder directly at me. “Sweetheart, why don’t you come home with me? I’ll spend the entire night apologizing to that sweet little ass of yours. After all, another man’s trash…”

  It was all Jake needed.

  In an impressive display of male bravado, Jake’s fist struck Jeremy in the jaw with a cracking sound that made me cringe. Jeremy’s two friends jumped on Jake, double-teaming him, prompting Cowboy, Ox, and Judd to step in. Instead of stopping the fight, everyone in the room bum-rushed the dance floor and a riot broke out.

  Caught in a snarl of flying fists and broken beer bottles, I scrambled to get off the dance floor. Not knowing where the others were, I grabbed the keys to the Explorer from our table. Then Jake and Cowboy elbowed their way through the crowd. As they reached me, I got a good look at their faces and gasped.

  Jake’s cheek was red and already bruising, his right eye almost swollen shut, and his knuckles on both hands were bleeding. Cowboy looked worse. I’d swear his nose hadn’t been that flat before, and he had blood splatters on the front of his shirt.

  “Are you okay? Hey, wait—”

  Jake scooped me up and dragged me out, kicking and screaming. When we reached the parking lot, he dropped me—literally—on the ground. He jerked the Explorer keys from my hand and tossed them to Cowboy.

  “Walk it off,” Cowboy said to Jake. “Tar and feathers are your best option.” Then Cowboy got into the Explorer and drove away.

  Jake paced as I got up and dusted myself off. “What the hell is your problem?”

  He stopped and leaned into my face, his crazed eyes chock-full of anger, his voice cold as ice. “Shut. Up.”

  My eyes widened. “Excuse me?”

  He put his hand over my mouth. “Stop talking.” With a bruising grip, Jake pulled me to the side of the building where he’d parked and crammed me into the old pickup, slamming the door. The window was down, so I heard his frustration as he grumbled and kicked the fender. I tried to get back out, but he pushed the door closed again. “Emily, you don’t want to test me right now. Keep your ass in the truck.”

  “Jake, this is stupid—”

  “Damn you, Emily! I’ve never put my hands on a woman before, but you have me very close to doing it. Stay in the truck and shut your fucking mouth!”

  The enforcement in his coarse voice shocked me. I guess now I know what Cowboy meant by tar and feather being Jake’s best option. I crossed my arms as he paced some more. Okay, so I pushed him too far this time. I hadn’t meant to, but I had a hard time controlling myself where Jake was concerned. No matter how good my intentions were, I always seemed to screw everything up.

  Ten long minutes later, he decided to get in the truck. I sat in silence, thinking he’d apologize for the way he spoke to me. All he said was, “Buckle up.”

  It was probably the alcohol talking, but my irritation came out full force. “Are aliens going to snatch me if I don’t?”

  Though I wasn’t sure he would, he kept his cool. “It’s the law.”

  “You going to arrest me?”

  He gritted his teeth. “Goddamnit. You should’ve come with an instruction manual. For once, take responsibility for your actions, stop being difficult, and buckle the damn seatbelt.”

  “If you want it buckled, do it yourself.”

  Jake catapulted across the seat, grabbed my shoulders, and shook me. His lightning fast reflexes and the strength of his hands made my body tremble violently. He focused on me with eyes of a predator. I froze in place, like a skittish bunny, not sure if I should run like hell. He was dealing with his demons, and this was a side of Jake I hadn’t seen before.

  Slowly, he loosened his grip and his mouth softened. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

  His words had softened, but the intensity of his gaze confused me. It wasn’t guilt, but something else. I was clueless to know what Jake was thinking, but the visual cues were there. He wasn’t trying to defuse the situation any longer. His eyes were those of an aggressor.

  A sexual charge pressed into the air around us, making it harder for me to breathe. I gulped shallow breaths, savoring them as if they were the last bits of oxygen I’d receive before Jake smothered me with his overwhelming male presence.

  He gave no warning. Jake captured my waist, pulling me closer, only to shove me onto my back before positioning himself between my legs. I should’ve been frightened, but how he handled me was wickedly sexy. Instead of fear, my stomach fluttered with anticipation.

  He took my lips forcefully, bruising them. With intense carnal gratification in mind, he yanked the front of my dress down to my waist and cupped my breasts with rough hands. Jake moved lower, my nipples hardening in his mouth. My body responded in a frenzy, arching under him, twitching with pleasure.

  Jake sensed what I wanted, giving it before I asked. No words of passion, no gentleness in his eyes, no softness in his touch. Like being tickled too hard—it might hurt a little, but you can’t stop laughing with enjoyment. Even if I had wanted to, it would’ve been impossible to resist.

  A low moan escaped my lips, pushing him over the edge. Grunting, Jake fumbled to loosen his zipper with quivering, unsteady hands. He was ready to
unleash the primal urge building inside him. The stingy, inadequate foreplay didn’t matter. To him, or to me. I wanted him to take what he needed and would ask nothing in return.

  Fully aware of the alignment issues, Jake pulled off my heels and threw them onto the floorboard. He sat upright and repositioned, pulling me astride. Having sex in the front seat of a pickup is like trying to get a cushion cover back on the couch pillow after it’s been laundered. It’s a tight squeeze with a lot of grunting, but not impossible.

  His fingers dug into my back with need and fervor. His rock solid erection pressed into my inner thigh, throbbing and hot. His tongue found its way back into my mouth with unstoppable passion.

  So you can imagine my surprise when he did stop.

  People were talking as they came out of the bar, but I was the only one who ignored them. Jake let his head rest on the back of the seat and blew out a breath. “Emily…”

  “You’re thinking,” I breathed into his ear. “Stop it.”

  Jake’s bottom half was definitely there, but his top half was only semi-present and still contemplating. Eager to finish what he started, I trailed my tongue down his neck and kissed him. His hands worked their way under my dress and up the back of my thighs.

  Then I heard a sound bordering on a laugh. “You liar.”

  “It’s a thong,” I said, still kissing his neck. “I never said I wasn’t wearing any panties. I only suggested I might not be.”

  His hands stopped moving as he swore under his breath. “Emily, I…”

  I pulled back to look at him. “God, Jake, don’t do this again. I’m horny and shitfaced and—”

  “That’s why we can’t. I feel like I’m taking advantage.”

  “By all means, take advantage!”

  “You know what I mean. I feel like I’m in a wading pool, and it’s getting deeper and deeper.”

  I nipped his bottom lip with my teeth and whispered into his mouth, “Isn’t that the point…to go deeper?”

  The seconds stretched on indefinitely.

  “Not when you’re drunk,” he said. “Alcohol fuels bad judgment. I don’t want you to regret this.”

  “What are you…a human Breathalyzer? Jesus, Jake. We’ve nearly had sex dozens of times in the past week and I was sober each time. Why do you think I’d regret it now?”

  “Emily, I told you before…I don’t do meaningless sex.”

  “It won’t ever mean anything as long as you keep stopping it from happening. My God, Jake, virgins safeguard themselves less than you do.”

  “Cue the violins. Poor Emily didn’t get laid,” he said sarcastically.

  “Don’t turn this around on me. Maybe you shouldn’t start something you obviously can’t finish.”

  “This is about you. You have a habit of making bad choices. I can’t help it if I don’t want to be one of them.”

  “Oh, fuck me.” I pulled my dress up to cover my breasts and climbed back into the passenger seat.

  “Sweetheart, if a frolic is all you’re wanting, then you should have ridden home with Cowboy,” Jake said, buttoning his pants. A brief but tangible silence followed. “You actually considered it for a moment, didn’t you?”

  I propped my arm on the door and looked at him, realizing he was serious. “You think all I care about is sex?”

  “If the shoe fits,” Jake said, shrugging as he cranked the old truck.

  For a moment, I sat in stunned silence, then my temper flared. “If that’s what you think of me, then you’re the biggest jackass I’ve ever met.”

  “Guess I’m a jackass.”

  The drive to the house was excruciatingly quiet. My desire for intimacy and Jake’s lack of providing wasn’t the problem, no matter what he believed. I had a hard time swallowing his unsavory opinion of me. As far as he was concerned, I wanted to be with someone, and that someone could’ve been anyone. He was wrong.

  Jake had been loitering in my heart—and occasionally on my body—since the first night I laid eyes on him. Whenever he was near, I had a hard time regulating my emotions. My heart was ripe for picking, but Jake refused to harvest my crop…in more ways than one.

  Sure, the hot and cold thing bothered me. It’s simple. Don’t start something you don’t intend to finish. It wasn’t about sex, though. I would’ve been angry if we’d been playing Monopoly and he’d quit in the middle of the game.

  As we pulled up to the house, Jake said, “Let’s go inside.”

  “I need a minute,” I said, my voice wavering slightly.

  He started to argue, but stopped himself. “Okay, I’ll give you a few minutes alone.” He knew I wasn’t going anywhere since he pocketed the truck keys.

  Once he went inside the cottage, I sighed in frustration. Maybe we were too different. I liked being reckless and carefree, foregoing all the rules. But I was in love with a frustratingly precise man of the law, one who adhered to responsibility and respected rules.

  We weren’t an ideal couple, and chances are, it’d never work. Probably the equivalent of trying to breed a duck to a chicken. I, of course, would consider myself the duck, since they’re cuter. And everyone knows chickens have peckers. I knew I was drunk when the vision of a chicken’s pecker made me giggle.

  The more I thought about Jake, the more muddled my feelings became. The last week had taken a heavy toll on my heart. After Jake saved my life several times, most people would consider it White Knight Syndrome, but that wasn’t it. I was in love with him. I’d never felt this sure of anything in my life.

  Eventually, this whole ordeal would be over, and Jake wouldn’t feel obligated to protect me anymore. But would he still care? After all, it’s not like he said he loved me. Even I knew to care and to love are two very different things. I cared enough about the birds to not want Hank to pull off their heads, but I wasn’t in love with them. And if Hank wanted to pull the head off something, why didn’t he take care of the dreadful rooster?

  I reached down to the floorboard and searched in the dark for my shoes. The first one I found immediately, but the other was still missing. My hand moved back and forth until I hit something that lit up. Closer inspection revealed a cell phone. It must belong to Floss. She drove the truck to the grocery store last. Laying it on the seat, I continued searching for my other shoe.

  Jake’s voice rang out, a touch of panic making it warble. “Emily…? Where are you?”

  I popped my head up and saw him standing at the cottage door without a shirt. His bruised, swollen face looked worse under the porch light. “I’m looking for my shoes,” I told him. “I’ll be there in a minute.”

  “I’m getting ready for bed.”

  “You should put some ice on your face.”

  He nodded and shut the door as I stared at the pair of shoes in my hands. I’d found the second shoe as he called my name, but I let him believe I was still searching. I couldn’t ask myself why because I already knew the answer. I placed my shoes on the seat and picked up the cell phone before I lost my nerve. One phone call. It’s all I needed.

  She answered after the third ring, sounding half-asleep. “Hello?”

  “Gina?”

  A slight pause lingered as voice recognition sunk in. “Oh, my God!” Gina shouted into the phone. “Where have you been? We didn’t know what happened to you.”

  I sobbed quietly to myself. “They put me in witness protection.”

  She paused again. “Have you been drinking?” I giggled, but Gina must’ve heard the strain in my voice. “Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine.”

  “Girl, people are looking for you. A couple of men stopped by here and pushed their way into our apartment. They tore the rooms up searching for you. I told them you weren’t here, but they wouldn’t listen.”

  “They’re dangerous, Gina. If they come back, don’t open the door. Just call the police. I saw them do something…terrible. It’s why they’re after me.” I had to shake the image of Sergio’s body from my mind.

  “Is
the other man with them?”

  “What other man?”

  “Two days after you disappeared, he showed up asking a lot of questions. He wants us to call him if we heard from you.”

  “Did he have a crooked nose and a gross-looking mole on his left cheek?”

  “No, but he looked like he needed some sleep. His eyes were more bloodshot than Dale’s that time we dared him to drink—”

  “Okay, okay. Gina, this is important. Don’t tell anyone you spoke to me. I mean it.”

  “You could’ve called us sooner, you know. We’ve been worried out of our minds. The police wouldn’t—”

  “You went to the police?”

  “Yeah, but no one would tell us anything,” she said, still irritated about it. “Then one cop said you were safe and that you were with Jake.”

  “Are you sure he was a cop?”

  “I guess so. He was in the police station and wearing a uniform. Oh, and he had his arm in a sling.”

  “Officer Stevens?”

  “Hey, yeah…I think that was his name. How’d you know?”

  “He got shot when those men came after me,” I told her. I was glad to hear Stevens was okay, but realized I was putting her in danger as well. “Gina, I can’t talk any longer. I have to hang up now.”

  “You sure you’re okay?”

  Sighing, I closed my eyes and my jaw tensed. “I miss you guys. Tell Dale I asked about him, or the drama queen will never let me live it down.”

  Gina laughed. “Okay, I will.”

  I gripped the phone tighter. “Gina, I…I love you and Dale. You know you two are my family. Take care of yourselves.” Then I hung up.

  It hurt to hear Gina’s voice. I thought I’d feel better, not worse. Depressed, I erased the call from the phone’s memory and tried to do the same to my own.

  I swung open the door and got out, leaving the cell phone on the seat of the truck where Floss would find it. I wobbled as I paced, belittling myself and wearing a not-quite-oval track in the dirt beneath my unsteady feet. Did I put my friends in danger by calling them? No, I couldn’t let myself think that way. Man, how selfish could I be? I’m probably the only person in witness protection to ever come down with a case of the drunken dial-ies. God, I’m dumb.