by Rya Stone
Wait. Where’s my wallet?
She dumped her purse. Not there.
When had she seen it last?
Roma’s.
It must have flown under a table or something. Surely the one-eyed man hadn’t… Cassie pictured him, deep in shadow. The look on his face when he’d seen Jase had put even Clint Lucas’s murderous visage to shame. Rubbing the chill from her arms, Cassie checked the time. The bedside alarm clock read 6:52. She needed to hit the road, but her head was spinning.
And her wallet was missing.
She tore her room apart.
Nope.
She called Roma’s.
Nada.
Breathing hard, she stilled in front of the door, using it to steady herself as she placed both hands at shoulder height. God, she needed this lease. She closed her eyes and pictured a pump jack, pumping overriding royalty payments into her bank account…which I’ll have to change. She threw the thought aside and the jack pumped faster. Her payout grew and grew until she saw herself by her mother’s bedside, her laptop balanced on her knees, writing—
She was dreaming now.
No. She could leave all this bullshit behind. No more sleazy bosses, no more Texas Chainsaw Massacre surprises, no more games. That would be her end, no matter how far-fetched, and Jason Lucas, no matter how intimidating, would be her means.
Armed with new hope and old pepper spray, Cassie swung open the door.
Jase filled her doorway, all boots, jeans, and tight-fitting pearl-snap shirt, unbuttoned enough to reveal his dog-tag chain and the barest hint of a finely sculpted chest. Damn. She’d really needed the five-minute drive to the Tee-Pee to prepare herself.
Sky-blue eyes swept down her length. “You’re not wearing the jeans.”
“You’re going to have to work for the jeans.” That hadn’t come out right. When Jase opened his mouth, she stopped him with a finger. “Uh-uh. Two can play this game. You want something from me, and I want—”
“You think I’m going to stand here arguing about what you’re wearing when those legs are just as fine as that ass?”
The pink and white ombre skirt hit a very modest two inches above her knees. Paired with a wide studded leather belt and a tight, but non-cleavage-revealing eyelet tank, she thought she’d made a conservative choice.
“I lost my wallet,” she blurted out, curling her hand around the doorframe.
“Hope you find it. But I also hope you don’t think I’ll let you hole up in here and look for it all night.” Jase stared at her tensed fingers before sliding an appreciative gaze along her outstretched arm. Her skin heated and her stomach executed a series of somersaults as he took in every angle, from the curve of her shoulder to the arc of her neck. “Tonight’s on me anyway,” he finished, meeting her eyes without apology for his examination.
And did they teach that somewhere? Because the man had to have taken a class. The advanced course for seductive sociopaths. She was sure they offered that somewhere, and Jason Lucas had obviously passed it with flying colors.
This was so wrong.
“You need to change shoes.” Jase pushed away from the doorframe and backed her into her room. “You got some boots?”
“Why?”
He glanced down at her strappy, heeled sandals. “As much as I like them, you can’t wear those shoes, not where I’m taking you.”
“And where would that be?” she asked, hoping for a way to excuse herself while she shot Kyle a text.
“It’s a surprise.”
“Forgive me if I’m not trembling in anticipation. My last few surprises haven’t exactly been welcome.”
“This one will make up for your bad run.” Jase winked. “I promise.”
“Not even a hint?” she asked, busting out the dimples.
He remained immune. “Nope.”
Great. She grabbed a pair of square-toed boots, thinking the green vines and pink flowers embroidered on buckskin would look cute with her outfit and, belatedly, reminding herself she had a deal to close.
Jase surveyed her cluttered room before his gaze settled on one of several stacks of books. “You really do live here.”
“You live in a camper,” she countered, pulling on a sock. She found it much easier to speak while occupying herself. Huh. Maybe they could just stay in and do some laundry.
Jase dropped the paperback he’d picked up to inspect. “How long have you been here? In this motel?”
“A little over six months.”
“Six months,” he repeated flatly, studying her. “No trouble?”
She stood, straightening her skirt and not daring to meet those killer eyes. They did…things. Things she didn’t need to examine further. “Why would I have trouble?”
Jase stalked toward her. “There’s a bar next door.”
“Not one I frequent,” she said, unsure if she should give ground or not. Jase’s eyes pinned her in place, and he was looking at her that way again—the one where she kind of wanted to rip open those pearl snaps and do a little exploring of her own. God, what was this? And why now?
Jase grabbed her hand. “We’re taking my truck.”
The sexy black one. The one he’d have to help her into because it sat so high off the ground. She cleared her throat. “It’s, um, a bit of a jump if I remember correctly.”
“You do,” he grinned. “And I don’t mind helping in the least.”
Right.
As Jase led her out the door, she wondered which she’d need more: pepper spray or fresh panties. Hell, she already needed the panties. And at this point, she’d probably need to use the pepper spray on herself in order to keep her hands off her—uh—date.
Saxon Lake.
She knew it from six months of staring at Marian County maps, and she knew it from the sign back at the highway turnoff, but when it spread before her in all its eerie glory, Cassie realized she didn’t know a damn thing.
“It’s…secluded,” she noted as Jase helped her from his truck, pointedly pulling her close so her body all but slid down the front of his.
He whispered into her ear. “That’s why I brought you here.”
Errr…
His hands closed around her hips again as he lifted her onto the lowered tailgate.
“Can you grab my purse?” she asked, slightly terrified yet undeniably aroused.
Jase dumped her fringed leather satchel unceremoniously on the tailgate and launched himself into the truck bed. As soon as he’d occupied himself with a cooler near the cab, Cassie grabbed her phone. She texted Kyle then flipped the phone to mute so Jase wouldn’t hear the response when it came through.
Kyle: WTF! Saxon Lake? What do u want me to do?
Cassie glanced over her shoulder. Jase squatted in front of the cooler, his broad back turned.
Cassie: Idk…just letting u know so u can tell the cops where to look for my body.
She ignored the rustling in the truck bed and kept her eyes glued to the screen.
Kyle: I hope ur kidding.
Cassie: Lame attempt at joke. Sorry.
Kyle: Whew. Keep me posted.
Cassie: K.
“Scoot over.”
She nearly jumped out of her shirt at the sound of Jase’s voice. He dropped down next to her, and she turned to the bed to see their dinner. Laid out atop a small quilt were all the fixings for pulled-pork sandwiches.
“Wow,” she breathed, tucking her legs to the side so she could face Jase. It was kind of impressive—rustic but charming, like a food spread out of Texas Monthly.
He placed a spoonful of shredded meat on an open bun. “The meat’s still warm.”
“It smells delicious.”
“Hind-quarter off a wild hog.”
“You made this yourself?” She’d assumed it had come from the local barbeque joint.
“I shot the hog a few weeks ago. Pulled the hind-quarter out of the freezer as soon as you left the other night.”
A hunter-gatherer, eh? Not surprising for
small-town Texas. It was surprising in appeal. Primal. Dangerous even. Heat flooded her belly, and she found herself hungry in more ways than one.
“Pickles?”
“Huh? Oh…yeah. Thanks.” Damn, the man knew how to keep her off task. “Shouldn’t you have been at work today instead of making us dinner?” she asked as he placed three dill slices atop the shredded meat.
“As long as operations are running smoothly, I can take off whenever I want to. Onions?”
“No, thanks. Really? I thought y’all worked shifts or something.”
He handed her the sandwich. “Not me.”
He was obviously a supervisor of some sort, that much she’d already seen. She wondered now what his official title was but didn’t ask, watching instead as he prepared his own sandwich. And without much ado, Cassie tore into hers. It was heaven on a bun. Seriously. Sweet and tangy and oh, so good.
“You know, if I keep eating like this I’m not going to be able to fit into those jeans you so want to see me in.”
Jase slapped on his top bun and flicked his gaze to hers without bringing his head up. “I’d rather see you out of them.”
Sure her face appeared as hot as it felt, she filled her mouth with another bite—not so much to fulfill Jase’s wish, but to give her mouth something to do besides hang open.
Without a doubt, it was the strangest picnic she’d ever been on, if for nothing else than the scenery.
Saxon Lake was obviously man-made, and the evidence rose from the black water in twisted, spiky tangles all across the lake. If that wasn’t bad enough, thin tendrils of fog hung about the tree skeletons, adding to the spectral sight. She didn’t know which was creepier: Saxon Lake or the gothic horror Clint Lucas called home.
Jase looked out over the lake. “My family used to own this.”
She promptly began choking. Of course they did.
“Here.” A beer bottle appeared before her. “Drink.”
“I…”
Jase shot to his knees. “Cassie!”
She swallowed and hit her chest with her fist. After taking a long pull from the beer bottle, she managed a few words. “You were saying?”
He shook his head. “You scared the hell out of me.” And it was clearly written on his face. Can’t fake that.
Or can you?
“Sorry,” she wheezed. “I didn’t do it on purpose.”
“No need to apologize,” he said, settling onto the tailgate. “It happens.”
She wiped a watery eye to catch any smeared mascara. God, he really was a gentleman. He’d held doors open, fed her first…prepared to perform the Heimlich. And she was dangerously close to letting her guard down. “So your family used to own the lake?”
Jase side-eyed her, concern still creasing his brow. After what seemed like more than just a few seconds, he said, “No, the land. That was before the Army Corp of Engineers decided to make it into a frog pond.”
“Imminent domain?”
“Yeah, imminent fucking domain.”
“Why?”
“For recreation purposes. They made the whole damn thing into a public park.”
“Creepiest looking park I’ve ever seen.”
She expected him to smile at that, but instead, he spoke in a low voice. “The land doesn’t like it.”
She laughed. “How can land not like something?”
“You feel the weather, yet this idea seems strange to you?”
“Yeah, but that’s…” She hesitated at the depth in his gaze. The man who drilled holes in the earth for a living truly wanted her to believe land could feel something.
“You don’t see it out there?” he asked.
“You can’t look out there and not feel…something,” she admitted.
He tilted his bottle to his lips, catching her eye. “What do you feel now?”
She glanced down at her half-eaten sandwich, knowing what he’d just done. “I feel confused. How did your family own this land? It’s on the other side of town from your ranch.” It was a stupid question. It’s not like people didn’t own nonadjacent tracts of land. In her defense, admitting a sixth sense or whatever was one thing, shifting truthful focus to the likes of Jason Lucas? Yeah, not going there. Not out loud.
He was staring at the lake again. “My mom’s family.”
“Oh.”
“She’s dead,” he said after a long pause. “But I’m sure you already knew that.”
Tread softly, Cass. “Yes, I did.” In fact, she had a copy of Caroline Lucas’s will in her title folder.
Steely eyes slammed into hers. “Are you going to ask?”
She held his gaze, both of them tense among the deepening shadows. “Only if you want to tell me.”
He closed his eyes and swallowed. “She fell down the stairs. Broke her neck.”
“I’m sorry.” And she found she truly was. Though reluctant to admit it, she’d imagined what her own mother’s death might entail. It would be a long time coming, especially if Cassie could improve her living arrangements. But to have a loved one taken so suddenly? That was a different kind of loss. And she could see Jase had loved her. There was no denying the pain marring his handsome features as he gazed at the darkening sky.
Why he’d chosen to share the details, she had no idea. He had no way of knowing about her own mother’s plight, but he’d made an undeniable connection to something she held dear, even if he didn’t realize it. She wanted to ask about his father, but sensed that might not even be second date stuff. Or third.
A second date? A third?
Oh, boy.
“We should go,” he said. “It’s getting dark.”
“Yeah,” she whispered, transfixed by the sadness she saw in his profile.
“Come on.” He hopped to the ground with a small smile. “The night’s just getting started.”
Chapter Seven
Music thumped in the darkness.
With her hand clasped firmly in Jase’s, Cassie’s belly danced as they approached the crowd gathered outside Hintzen Hall, Second Oldest Dance Hall in Texas —or so the sign on the side of the building proclaimed.
“Ja-son!” A big bearded man in a camo baseball cap stepped away from the crowd of smokers hanging near the front doors. It was the guy from Roma’s. Keith? “Thought you were locked down on Five, bro?”
“Got the rigging sorted out.” Jase smiled for the first time since they’d left Saxon Lake, and his buddy moved in for a chest slamming, backslapping man-hug.
Jase stepped back, slid his arm around her waist, and yeah, freaking tingles, all over. Holding hands had been bad enough. This? It was too easy, too—
“Baby, this is the one and only Heath Savage.”
She braced herself for a bear hug, but Heath dipped his chin. “Baby?”
A corner of her lips rose. “Isn’t that what he calls all the girls?”
“No, baby, it isn’t,” Heath said. “That’s what I call all the girls. This one here…”
Her smirk melted. “What about babe?” she asked.
“Same thing, babe.”
She had no comeback for that and concentrated instead on fighting the confused satisfaction welling in her chest. This proved no easy task, especially when Jase ran his hand along the small of her back before sliding his fingers through hers once again. “We’ll catch you inside, Heath.”
Hintzen Hall was everything a dance hall should be—dark, smoky, crowded. The music was so loud, the bass so deep, it echoed in her bones. Neon beer signs crowded the walls. Sawdust, peanut shells, and probably not a small amount of spilled beer covered the floor. She loved it. And it wasn’t just the smell of old wood and new sawdust. Jase’s hand in hers felt like it belonged there as he steered through the crowd, and his breath in her ear when he leaned back and asked if she wanted something to drink half convinced her she’d already captured a buzz.
She shook her head. “I want to dance!”
That sexy-smooth grin split Jase’s lips, and he led her to
the dance floor. Hooking an arm around her neck, he grasped tight to her shoulder, pulling her close in that possessive way seen in dance halls across Texas. She fell into the familiar two-step rhythm and lost herself in the music, in the feel of Jase all around her. As dangerous and unprofessional as it was, she didn’t want the song to end.
Something had changed tonight.
With lease talk off-limits, everything else about Jason Lucas had flooded in. She tingled from head to toe, giddy and nervous from the sexual tension crackling between them. Every look, every touch, every breath on her skin had her body creating its own heated rhythm between her legs, and she decided, for the moment, to let go and enjoy the chaos.
All too soon, the bass relented and the fiddles died into the din. Jase gave her the requisite spin, and she threw her head back, laughing. Her laughter died as the first haunting strains of “Some Fools Never Learn” cut through the clamor. Shivers coursed down Cassie’s spine—happened every time she heard the song. She was pretty sure the universe was trying to tell her something this time, but when she placed her hand in Jase’s and that slow grin spread across his lips, when he drew their arms in, tight between them instead of outstretched…
She was playing with fire, all right. And she was gonna get burned. Those shivers? They’d been replaced by pooling warmth, deep in her belly. As the band hit the chorus, she looked up, and the fierce attraction she saw in Jase’s eyes made her press closer as they swayed to one of the greatest country songs ever written.
Yeah, you could get into some big trouble on a dance floor.
Jase bent his head to her shoulder, and his words against her skin made her knees damn near buckle. “You smell good, Cassie.” His lips skimmed up her neck. “Like the East. Sandalwood and…desert rose.”
It was sandalwood—an oil blend she’d discovered in an import store in Houston—but the fact that his recognition intensified the want soaring through her body…
That was a problem. It was too much. Too soon.
“Jase, stop—”
“We’re on a date.” His stubble rasped against her cheek, and that throbbing rhythm between her legs turned to ache. “I’m telling my date she smells good.”
