Those Texas Nights

by Delores Fossen

  “We did. Nothing there.”

  That didn’t surprise Clay. “At least a dozen people could have seen Arlo coming into the station, and it would have taken seconds for that to get around town. If Billy Lee managed to get word that Arlo was here, it could have caused him to back off.”

  “Any idea who could be feeding Billy Lee gossip?”

  “Anybody with the ability to communicate either through speech, writing or sign language. Wrangler’s Creek is loose-lips headquarters. And they might not be doing it intentionally. I’ve had some experience with how fast and wide-reaching info can spread here.”

  Mike made a sound, one that needed no verbal skills to interpret. The agent knew Clay was right but also knew there was nothing he could do to stop the flow of gossip.

  “What about the note Arlo brought in?” Clay asked. “Anything on that?”

  “The lab analyzed it, and it’s definitely Billy Lee’s handwriting. One of the fingerprints on it belonged to him, too.”

  Hell. Hadn’t Billy Lee ever watched an episode of CSI? Apparently not. Maybe he hadn’t counted on Arlo turning over the note. But he should have. He should be in the trust-no-one zone right about now. And that’s what bothered Clay.

  “Why is Billy Lee even reaching out to Arlo?” Clay continued. “If he stole all that money, why hasn’t he used it to get out of the country?”

  “Don’t have a clue about the first question, but maybe Billy Lee lost the cash to the money launderers he was involved with.”

  Yeah. And if so, that made Billy Lee dangerous. Because he might do anything to get the cash, and that included going to Sophie and Garrett for funds.

  “I’m coming to Wrangler’s Creek later today,” Mike went on. “I want to be there when I have Arlo make another call to Billy Lee. I’ll keep you posted if we learn anything new,” he said before ending the call.

  Clay was about to go back to the budget, but this was apparently going to be his afternoon for interruptions because his intercom buzzed.

  “You said you wanted me to tell you if you had a visitor,” Reena said, “and not just send them back.”

  He had told her that—after multiple visits from Vita. He wouldn’t turn the woman away, but he didn’t like surprise knocks on his door.

  Someone knocked on his door.

  “Sorry,” Reena added, “Belle Granger went back to your office before I could stop her. But when you’re done with her, we could use some help putting up this Christmas tree, and the lightbulb over my desk went out again. You’re the only one tall enough to reach it on the ladder. Oh, and Brantley’s here. He says he has to talk to you about something personal, that it’s real important.”

  Clay wasn’t sure how his predecessor, Sheriff Vern Tripp, had ever gotten any work done. Of course, maybe Vern hadn’t gotten involved with the very woman who could create maximum door knockage. And maybe Vern had also bought long-life lightbulbs.

  The door opened, and yes, it was Sophie’s mom all right. Judging from her tight mouth and slightly narrowed eyes, this was about the other sort of knocking up. Clay decided to nip it in the bud as soon as Belle closed the door.

  “Sophie’s not pregnant,” he said.

  Clay could practically see the relief fly out of Belle’s body. Too bad the anger didn’t fly out with it. He figured there was a lecture coming on.

  “Sophie’s very vulnerable, and it wasn’t right for you to take advantage of her like that,” Belle scolded.

  He wouldn’t mention that it was Sophie who’d started it, especially since he’d been the one to finish it. Well, finish that particular encounter, anyway.

  “I can see why she turned to you,” Belle went on. “I mean, you look like one of those cowboy models. And you’ve got that dark, bad-boy edge that appeals to some women. Many women,” Belle amended.

  If Clay didn’t know better, he’d think Belle was coming onto him, but this was probably just her attempt to get on his good side so that she could sway him to her way of thinking. And her way of thinking would be no sneaking-around sex.

  Belle apparently wasn’t finished with her lecture. “But here’s what you have to remember.” And she said the two words that could win plenty of arguments. “Your sister.”

  There was no need for her to elaborate on that, but that didn’t stop Belle from doing it. “You don’t want April to get wind of...well, whatever it is going on between my daughter and you.” She finally paused, probably just so she could gather enough breath to continue. “What exactly is going on between you?”

  Protected sex, missionary position with a hand job thrown in probably wasn’t the answer Belle wanted to hear. “Sophie and I are attracted to each other,” he settled for saying.

  Finally, the anger vanished from her face, but Clay saw another emotion that was even more troubling. A mother’s concern. “I’m afraid if Sophie’s hurt again, that this time she’ll break.”

  Yeah, he was worried about that, too, and there was plenty that could hurt her if she found out about his past. And she would find out. You couldn’t bury a secret deep enough to stop it from coming to light. Despite his warning to Brody, that wouldn’t necessarily prevent the man from spilling everything to Sophie. Since everything would be the truth, Sophie would be crushed.

  That was the reminder Clay needed. There should be no more sneaky-sex with her. No sex, period.

  “And if she breaks,” Belle went on, “then I’ll have to break you. Have I made myself clear?”

  Clay nodded and sat there, watching her leave. Watching Sophie, too, because she went past his window again. Still not headed his way. And she didn’t even look in his direction. She was doing something on her phone that had her full attention. So much so that she nearly walked right into a decorating crew that was putting up plastic Santas on the street light poles. A moment later, Clay’s own phone dinged with a text message.

  He doubted it was a coincidence.

  Clay took a deep breath, ready to see an invitation for sex from Sophie. It was an invitation all right, but it wasn’t from Sophie. It was from his sister.

  Dinner at our house tomorrow night at seven. April had texted, I know you’ll come because Sophie will be there.

  Shit.

  Before he could respond with a WTF?, his phone dinged again with a second text message. This one was from Sophie. And she’d taken the initials right out of his mouth.

  Your sister just texted to say you and I are supposed to be at her house for dinner. WTF?

  Clay had no idea what was going on, but he was about to press April’s phone number when the door opened. Brantley. Clay certainly hadn’t forgotten about his brother-in-law, but after the two texts, he’d put Brantley on the back burner with the lightbulb change.

  “What the fuck is going on?” Clay asked him.

  Even though it was forty degrees outside, there was sweat on Brantley’s upper lip. “It’s April,” he said. “She heard Sophie was pregnant, and she wants to talk to both of you about it.”

  * * *

  ALL SOPHIE HAD wanted was sex. A couple of stolen hours with Clay, his bed and a condom or two.

  Heck, the bed was even optional.

  But instead of an orgasm, or two, April was trying to set her up for another turkey, peas and Sheez Louise dining experience in what would no doubt be a hostile environment.

  Sophie glanced at her phone. Still no response from Clay, but she needed to watch where she was walking because she bumped into another ladder. One that was holding Freddie’s sons who were doing the decorating on Main Street. It was the second time she’d done that in the past three minutes.

  “Look out!” one of them yelled, and they nearly dropped the massive six-foot Santa head on her.

  Death by Santa was not the way she wanted to go.

  It wasn’t a g
ood time to be on the sidewalk what with the Santas, the cold and all the people who were starting to stare at her while she stared at her phone and dodged death. Best to minimize the gossip so she hurried to the bookstore, only to remember that Mila had closed early for inventory. The blinds were down, the closed sign up, but Sophie tapped on the door anyway. When Mila didn’t answer, Sophie used her key to let herself in so she could wait inside for a response from Clay.

  And she groaned when she spotted Mila.

  Her friend was peering out the doorway of her office. She was dressed in skintight black leather pants, a black top that was practically falling off her shoulders, and her hair was fluffed into a curly mess. “You’re the One That I Want” was playing in the background.

  Once Sophie got her eyes unwidened, she rolled them. “Please tell me you’re here alone and that you’re trying on costumes for a New Year’s Eve party.”

  “I’m alone. But not for long.” Mila caught onto the door frame so she could put on a pair of red high heels normally reserved for movie musicals and cheap hookers. “I have a fantasy date coming over, and he’ll be here soon. But don’t worry. I checked him out, and he’s safe. He’s a shrink over at the prison, and they vet those guys very well before they hire them.”

  Sophie so wanted to repeat those key words back to Mila. Prison shrink. One who was apparently into role-playing that involved leather clothing and screw-me heels.

  No, there was nothing weird about that.

  “You need to come up with a better way to satisfy these fantasies,” Sophie scolded. “Maybe wear one of those emergency alert buttons like senior citizens wear. Or keep a window open so that someone can hear you scream.”

  “I won’t be screaming.” Mila gave an indignant huff. “I’ll be singing and dancing.”

  “Yes, but you don’t know what the prison doctor has in mind.”

  The next huff was louder and even more indignant. “Outside of my books, I don’t have a lot of excitement in my life like you do. I certainly don’t have a cowboy cop who probably looks like an underwear model when he’s naked. He does, doesn’t he?”

  That was such a loaded question along with being poorly worded. “Underwear models don’t pose naked so I wouldn’t know. And what’s with you? Why the interest in hearing about Clay and me?”

  “Because I’ll bet he’s the stuff of your fantasies. As you can tell, lately I’m into fantasies.”

  Sophie wasn’t sure how to put this nicely so she just went with blunt. Good thing Mila and she had been friends since third grade. “Maybe it’s time for you to find someone special and have sex. I think all of this—” she fanned her hand over the clothes “—is a manifestation of some deep-seated unfulfilled area.”

  Specifically, one unfulfilled area. Of her body.

  “Are you saying a woman shouldn’t still be a virgin when she’s thirty?” Mila asked.

  “No. But I’m saying it might not be a good idea for you to be a virgin much longer. Clearly, being with a man is on your mind. And both the Dirty Dancing and Grease dances are, well, sexual. I think it’s time to start focusing on finding the right man.”

  Mila squinted her left eye. Or maybe it just got a little stuck because of the glob of mascara clinging to it. “Focus on finding the right man like you’re doing?”

  Dang it, they were back to her. “Yes, exactly like I’m doing.” Sophie didn’t bother to take out the sarcasm and frustration, either. And she added a groan.

  Mila finally smiled as if they’d just called some kind of truce. “Why are you here anyway? Weren’t you supposed to be at the ranch for a cattle shipment?”

  “All done, but right now I’m hiding out and waiting for Clay to text me.” She lifted her phone to show Mila the text April had sent her.

  “Dinner, tomorrow night at Brantley’s and my place. Clay will be there, too. See you then,” Mila read aloud.

  “I’m waiting on a response from Clay,” Sophie added.

  Mila had the same look that Sophie had given her when she’d walked in on the Grease outfit. Except Mila didn’t keep the look on hers. She tipped her head to the door that Sophie had left ajar. “Well, you won’t have to wait long because there he is.”

  Sophie spun around so fast that her neck popped. Yes, he was there. Right in the doorway. He glanced at Sophie. Stared and cursed at Mila.

  “I’ve already lectured her,” Sophie said, holding to that unspoken truce Mila and she had just reached. “She’ll leave a window open in case she needs someone to hear her screaming and come running. And she’ll text me every fifteen minutes, sort of like her safe word check.”

  Mila hadn’t actually agreed to do those things, but Sophie would convince her—once she’d gotten this dinner issue cleared up.

  “WTF?” Sophie repeated.

  He shook his head, lifted his hands, palms up. Not good signs. “I haven’t been able to reach April yet. She took the boys to Spike’s grandparents, and she’s not answering her phone. I did talk to Brantley, though, and he’s not sure why April put this dinner together, but he doesn’t like the idea of it any more than we do.” He paused. “You don’t like the idea of it, do you?”

  “No way. I don’t want to go another round of berate Sophie Granger from a pregnant woman married to my ex.” She glanced over her shoulder to make sure Mila wasn’t listening. Thankfully, she’d gone back in her office, but Sophie lowered her voice just in case. “Besides, I’d rather spend that time with you.”

  That didn’t improve his expression.

  Oh no.

  “My mother got to you,” Sophie concluded.

  This time he shrugged. “She had some good points.”

  “Yes, for a woman with very narrow views. She no doubt believes you took my virginity so now she’s either planning our wedding or telling you to back off or she’ll bury your body where it’ll never be found.

  “It’s the latter,” Sophie grumbled.

  Clay didn’t confirm it. Didn’t need to, but she knew some kind of threat had occurred. Later, she’d take it up with her mother, but for now, she had more immediate fish to fry.

  “So, why do you think April wants us to come to dinner?” Sophie asked.

  “Your guess is as good as mine, but I should know something soon. If she doesn’t answer her phone, I’ll go to their house and find out.”

  That was the best they could do right now, and it was obvious that Clay couldn’t give her any other information on the subject. But he didn’t budge. He just stood there, glancing around and occasionally mumbling a curse word. Obviously he was doing battle with whatever her mother had said to him.

  Well, Sophie fixed that.

  By playing dirty.

  She came up on her toes, making sure her body brushed against his, and she put her mouth right against his ear. Warm breath got involved. And maybe a little bit of her tongue, too.

  “I could sneak over to your place tonight,” she whispered, giving him another body nudge. Right on his nether region. Not very subtle, but it worked. She saw the spark of attraction in his eyes. Felt some hardening in that region she’d nudged. “Then you can tell me in person what your sister had to say.”

  Oh, he didn’t want to agree. At least his brain didn’t, but thankfully there were other parts of his body in play here. He didn’t say yes. Not verbally, but he said it in a very good way. He snapped her to him, kissed her, and he used more than a little tongue. By the time he let go of her, Sophie had the answer she wanted.

  Clay walked out, leaving her flushed but smiling.

  “You really are going for it,” Mila said.

  Yes, she was. She was going for some more sneaky sex with the hottest guy on the planet.

  “But you’re also falling for him,” Mila added.

  That got rid of Sophie’s smile. “No. I�
��m just having some fun.”

  That didn’t sound right. Didn’t feel right, either. This wasn’t especially fun except for the actual time she got to spend with Clay. It was work, but she still wanted to do it anyway. In fact, she was willing to jump through hoops, maybe hurdle over fire and risk a chicken attack to be with him.

  Well, heck.

  When had that happened? And it wasn’t as if they had a clear path to be together. They might never have a clear path.

  “Be safe,” Sophie reminded Mila. “And text me every fifteen minutes so I know you’re okay.”

  She waited until Mila grunted, and since that sounded like a grunt of agreement, Sophie headed out. She’d left her car parked at the other end of Main Street so that meant a trek back through the decorating land mines and prying eyes, some of whom had no doubt noticed that Clay and she had been behind closed doors and blinds long enough for him to impregnate her a second time.

  Sophie lowered her head against the chilly wind and got moving. She didn’t make it far, though, because this time she nearly smacked into Arlo. The wind had obviously helped dissipate the stench of motor oil typically coming off his clothes or she would have smelled him before she saw him.

  “Just saw the chief come out of the bookstore,” Arlo commented. “And now you came out.” He grinned. “Your hair’s a little mussed, too.”

  Good grief. “Mussed from the wind. Gotta go. It was nice talking to you—”

  “Since the chief and you are close, I guess he’s told you all about Billy Lee. Pillow talk,” he added with another grin.

  That stopped her, and Sophie turned and walked back to Arlo. “Uh, yes. He told me,” she lied. Clay hadn’t told her squat about Billy Lee, but obviously there was something to tell. “How did your last talk with the chief go?”

  “I figured he’d have told you, all things considered.” His gaze dropped to her stomach, which was a little puffy because of the sweets she’d been eating.

  “He did tell me, but what’s your take on it?” Not very subtle, but she just wasn’t good at this sort of thing.