Alex

by Monica Robinson

  "It's not like that."

  Whether Jason believed him or not, he couldn't say, but the knowing glint in the man's brown eyes refused to cease.

  "Either way, I wanted to give you the opportunity to spend time with her before tonight."

  What was happening that night? After the previous day's disruption, he was certain the state wouldn't be sending new workers to the Bar K any time soon.

  "It's not time for progress checks, is it?"

  Jason slipped his hands into his pockets and chuckled. “I take it you haven't been in the bunkhouse in the last hour."

  He shook his head. “Should I have?"

  "I wouldn't. It looks like an explosion of a clothes factory in there. I swear, one little dance and those boys act worse than a group of schoolgirls getting ready for a big date."

  Was it the first of the month already? Time had begun to blend for him and it hardly seemed possible that a month had passed so quickly.

  "You can't really blame them. These dances are the only female contact we get. Why don't you join in this time? I don't think I've ever seen you with a woman,” he returned.

  It was Jason's turn to blush as he lowered his head and grinned. “You have a point there,” he admitted. “I don't know. It's been over twenty years since I've danced with a woman, so I'm a bit out of practice."

  There was a distant note to Jason's voice that made Brett pause. Twenty years seemed like an awful long time to go without dancing with a woman, especially since San Eduardo had been holding these monthly gatherings for over one hundred years.

  "If you need a refresher course, I can help in that department."

  Both men turned to see Alex standing in the doorway with her hands on the edges of the doors.

  "I took dance classes for almost ten years,” she added.

  Jason's eyebrows rose in surprise as he stole a glimpse at Brett, who in turn shrugged.

  "That's very considerate of you, darlin', but it would take more than a single refresher course to help me,” he said and jerked his thumb at Brett. “You'd have better luck with him."

  Alex pursed her lips before letting her gaze rest on Brett. If he'd been embarrassed before, he was mortified now. Despite the fact he attended every dance, he could barely do the two-step.

  "Uh huh,” she drawled. “What do you think, cowboy? Are you going to chicken out on me, too?"

  Brett masked his laugh with a cough and shot Jason a quick glance.

  Jason stood with his arms crossed. “I'm not chickening out,” he said briskly. “I just don't think there's any hope for this old goat. But, if you two insist, I'll stroll the dance floor to make sure y'all are behaving. Now, if you want to get your errands run before it's time to make supper, I suggest you stop teasing me and get in the truck."

  Alex wrinkled her nose in delight and patted her back pocket as she walked with a spring in her step toward the doors. “We wouldn't want the DOC thinking they hired a slacker, now would we?"

  Brett shook his head and gestured to the open doors with a sweep of his hand. “She has a point, Jason. You and the DOC hired her, so we should probably get going,” he said with an innocent grin.

  Jason narrowed his eyes and dropped his arms to his sides. “Leave the comedy to Steven, would ya? It doesn't suit you,” he quipped, ignoring the fact Brett's smile was growing increasingly larger by the second. “Keep it up and I'll make sure you two stay eight inches apart during the slow dances. We'll see who's funny then."

  Brett managed to smother his smile, though it took a bit of effort. He followed Jason out into the bright afternoon sun. He hadn't given the dance any thought until this point, but as he walked across the grounds to the old truck, all he could think about was that in just a few hours he would be able to hold Alex as close as he liked. With any luck, he would continue to hold her in his arms long after the music ended.

  * * * *

  It didn't take Brett long to realize Alex was in her element when she was in a hardware store. This struck him as odd considering for all outward appearances she didn't seem like type to know the difference between a hammer and a buffing machine. However, as he watched her discuss options on how to better strip the finish from the porch, it was obvious she meant business.

  "I'm certain we can accommodate you, Miss Kincaid,” the storeowner, Bradley Marshall, said while looking over the color chart Alex held in her hand. “We should have your paint mixed and ready to go within the hour. In the meantime, feel free to finish your other errands."

  Alex beamed and looked at the shopping cart filled with tools and painting supplies. “Can I have these put aside for me? I have a few other places to go before I head back to the ranch."

  "Absolutely.” He reached out to take the cart from her. “I think it's wonderful there's finally a woman at the Bar K."

  He shifted his gaze to Brett. “Why, Brett! What are you doing with that knee brace on? You didn't try to ride Hector again, did you?"

  Brett liked Bradley. If anyone in town—other than the mayor, of course—knew the true identity of the men working at the ranch, it would be the storeowner. However, the middle-aged father of four never once let on that the bulk of his business came from the local penitentiary.

  He blushed at the question regarding the wild stallion he and Jason had been trying to gentle. “No, sir, I was horsing around and I dislocated my knee. I guess I underestimated my opponent.” He darted the tiniest of glances in Alex's direction.

  Bradley's eyebrows wrinkled in confusion, but mercifully let the subject drop as he wheeled the cart up the aisle to the counter.

  "At least it's not all work and no play. You men work yourselves to the bone, so it's only right you get the chance to liven things up.” He shook his head with a laugh. “Boy, I bet things are lively now that y'all have a pretty lady like Miss Kincaid on the premises."

  A witty comment ached to come out, but when he took a deep breath to respond, Alex pinched his forearm. He quickly closed his mouth to stifle a yelp.

  "It has its moments,” he grunted under his breath.

  Once more, her pleasant smile returned and she started for the glass doors. He followed a few steps behind, rubbing where she had pulled his arm hair.

  "You didn't have to rip the hair out, you know,” he grumbled while exiting the hardware store.

  She took his wrist and examined where she'd pinched him. Once satisfied she hadn't left a mark, she slipped her sunglasses onto her face with her free hand. She let his wrist slip from her hand until their fingers entwined.

  "Oh, you big baby. It couldn't have hurt that bad.” She lifted an eyebrow. “Could it? The last time I made that comment you were on crutches for three days."

  "It might have,” he said in a sly voice. “You should be nicer to me. Keep abusing me like this and I may have to report you to the DOC."

  She lowered her sunglasses to the tip of her nose. “You would not."

  When he didn't offer anything more, she narrowed her eyes and nudged him into the alley between the hardware store and the library. She pressed her hands into his shoulders, shoving him into the brick wall. He laughed through a groan as she planted her fists on her hips.

  "Do you want to see me abuse you?” She didn't give him the chance to reply. Instead, she slid her hands to the back of his neck and drew him down for a kiss.

  The instant her tongue teased his lips he forgot the burning sensation in his arm. He slipped his arms around her waist and pulled her to him. Though she had only been gone a day, he had already begun to miss the feel of her soft supple body pressed against his when they kissed.

  "If this is what you consider abuse,” he whispered against her lips, “then abuse me, baby."

  A shiver of excitement raced down his spine and his cock hardened when her lips skimmed his neck. His one weakness and she'd found it. She slid her hand between their bodies and he closed his eyes when she ran her palm up and down the bulge in his jeans.

  Perhaps this was torture. Here the
y were in the middle of town—in broad day light no less—and she was doing this? If anyone saw them, they would both be in trouble. But God, she felt so good. He slid his hands beneath her shirt and trailed his fingers over her ribs, anxious to feel her hardened nipples. She withdrew and wiped the corners of her mouth.

  "We should get going. I have curtains to buy,” she whispered and gently brushed the lip-gloss from his lips. “And a dress for tonight."

  He watched in utter frustration as she slipped out of the alley and disappeared around the corner. He groaned and dropped his head against the wall. Oh, that had been cruel. She had him riled up, ready to take her right there and she'd left him high and dry.

  "I'll get her back,” he muttered while adjusting himself.

  He would return the favor all right and by the time he was done, she would know what it meant to finish what she'd started.

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  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Alex stepped onto the curb outside the community center that night and nervously smoothed the pink silky material of her dress. With the top cut low, she hadn't been able to completely cover the bruise Sinclair had left and she was hoping no one would question the purple mar on her chest.

  "Relax.” Brett placed his hand on the small of her back. “You look beautiful."

  "I look like I went a couple of rounds with a professional boxer,” she countered. “And lost."

  Brett chuckled and glanced behind him. Alex peered back as well and smiled at the Cheshire cat grin spreading over Matt's face.

  "I'm sure Sinclair looks far worse than you do, right now,” he said with a wink. “You took that woman out. I was impressed."

  Now that the threat of her leaving was over, each of the hands had taken turns teasing her about the fight. Even Charlie, who was the most responsible of the men, had taken a few good-natured stabs at her.

  "Keep teasing me and I'll force you to hang more curtains."

  Matt pretended to look appalled and placed his hand to his chest. Her smirk widened into a smile as a rather pretty redhead approached Matt.

  "Hi, Brett,” the girl murmured and turned her attention to Matt. “Hi, Matt. How are you?"

  Matt glanced down and looked the woman over with approval. “Hey, Casey. I'm doing better now that I've seen you."

  Brett slipped his arm around Alex's waist and leaned toward her ear. “That's our cue to go in,” he whispered. “Matt's pretty shy around women, so we should let him secure his goodnight kiss alone."

  Alex took in the simple decorations with appreciation. Paper streamers hung twisted from the ceiling while multicolored balloons donned the walls. Across the far left wall stood two cafeteria-style tables laden with a multitude of different finger foods and several large punch bowls.

  "They go all out for these dances, don't they?” she asked over the music.

  They weaved their way through the crowd with Brett waving to people he recognized. He drew to a stop near a row of padded folding chairs and glanced around before nodding.

  "San Eduardo has been holding these dances for a long time. Granted, it costs quite a bit to throw these every month, but many of the locals donate supplies and the diner up the street furnishes most of the food.” He peered down at her. “We're the last of the small towns."

  Alex agreed. The old time charm of San Eduardo was infectious and though Bangor wasn't especially large, her hometown felt like a sprawling metropolis by comparison. There wasn't the congestion of traffic in San Eduardo that she'd witnessed in Portland, nor were there any strip malls to detour from the scenery.

  "Miss Kincaid!"

  Alex turned to see Helen Browne, the dress shop owner, walking toward the couple. The plump, blond woman clapped her pudgy hands together in glee while taking in Alex's attire.

  "I told you that dress would look beautiful on you and I was right. Why, with a tiny little figure like yours, I bet every man here will want a slot on your dance card,” she gushed.

  "I already took care of that, Mrs. Browne.” Brett's arm tightened around her and he offered the woman a sweet smile. “I'm afraid I flunked sandbox as a kid."

  Mrs. Browne tilted her head in bewilderment for a moment before making a perfect “O” with her lips. She let out a hearty laugh before waggling a finger at him.

  "Going to keep her all to yourself, are you? Donna is going to be heartbroken if you don't save her at least one dance, though. That girl is quite smitten with you,” she said matter-of-factly.

  Donna? Alex's eyebrows rose and she glanced up to see him wince.

  "I'll keep that in mind.” He gestured to the dance floor. “Alex, would you care to dance? Please?"

  The desperation in his voice was too much to bear. “Sure.” She lurched forward as he pulled her onto the dance floor. “Who's Donna?” She couldn't keep the amusement from entering her voice and he groaned.

  "She's Mrs. Browne's daughter. I danced with her twice and now she has her heart set on being Mrs. Hartman.” He shook his head. “I can only imagine what her mother would say if she knew I was a convict. She would insist Donna never set eyes on me again."

  "And that's a bad thing how?” A laugh bubbled in her throat at the way he was sputtering. “I'm only teasing, cowboy. I know you boys pride yourselves on keeping your identities private."

  Not that she blamed them. From what she'd witnessed just that evening, the inhabitants of San Eduardo seemed to have nothing but respect for the men working the Bar K and she wanted to keep it that way.

  "It saves a lot of unwanted attention for Jason. The sheriff and his deputies know who we are, but as far as I know, the only other one who knows is Mayor Watson,” Brett said at last.

  She leaned her head against his chest and let the sweet country tune serenade her. Watching the boys with the women of San Eduardo made her appreciate the small amounts of time she had with Brett.

  "Does Uncle Jason give you a curfew on nights like this?"

  Brett nodded, trailing his fingers up the curve of her spine and making her shiver.

  "The dance ends at midnight, but we have to meet here by one o'clock. If we're lucky enough to walk a girl home, the extra hour gives us the opportunity to do so, provided there's someone to accompany us,” he returned and wiggled his eyebrows. “I have an unfair advantage. My date gets to come home with me."

  Her cheeks flushed with heat. “I wouldn't say that too loudly if I were you. The others may get jealous.” She caught a glimpse of Hudson with a young woman. The girl didn't appear much older than eighteen, with long flaxen hair swept up in a neat ponytail. “Looks like Hudson found himself a date as well."

  Brett peered behind him and drew in a deep breath. “So it seems,” he replied in a distracted whisper. “Just as well. That's Donna. If he can keep her occupied this evening, then he'll be doing me a favor."

  Upon hearing the girl's identity, Alex strained her eyes to get a better look. Donna wasn't especially pretty, with a hawk nose that seemed a little too large for her face and almond-shaped eyes that were set too close together. To Donna's credit, Alex had to admit her tanned skin was flawless and seemed to glow in the soft light.

  "Perhaps, but I'm certain she'll sneak away to try to get that dance with you,” she teased.

  A flicker of irritation crossed Brett's face, but the look was fleeting as his fingers tightened around her waist. He lowered his lips to her ear and his warm breath tickled her neck, causing the fine hairs to stand on end.

  "Are you saying you're okay with that?” he drawled in a mixture of sarcasm and amusement.

  She wouldn't necessarily say she was okay with it, but it was a simple dance and there was no need for her to be jealous over a harmless twirl around the dance floor. Besides, if he danced with Donna, it would give her the opportunity to meet some of the locals. Thus far, the only people she knew were the boys from the ranch, Bradley from the hardware store and Mrs. Browne.

  "I wouldn't go so far as to say that, but it's the polite thing t
o do."

  "I never claimed to be polite.” She swatted his arm and he chuckled. “All right, I'll dance with her, but if she tries to force me to marry her, I'm going to blame you."

  "Just because I said you should dance with her, doesn't mean I won't be watching,” she replied and threaded her fingers through his as they left the dance floor.

  They ducked into the entryway and he brushed the backs of his fingers across her bare arm, his gaze sliding over the length of her body. “You wouldn't happen to be the least bit territorial, would you?"

  "No more so than you,” she returned easily. “The person I felt threatened by is sitting in the San Eduardo jail as we speak. Think I should go over there and say howdy?"

  She may have said the comment in jest, but Brett didn't see it that way.

  He frowned. “Don't you dare. She's the reason we have to be even more careful about what we do.” His expression softened upon seeing the surprise in her eyes. “Just so you know, there was never a need to be jealous. I'm looking at the only woman I want to be with."

  A feeling of comfort surrounded her like a warm fuzzy sweater upon hearing this. There was an underlying meaning, but she didn't get the chance to ask him what it was. In that next moment, Charlie approached with his date for the evening.

  "Good evening, Brett.” She flashed Alex a pleasant smile. “I don't think we've met. I'm Nancy Watson."

  Alex stole a quick glance at Brett before extending her hand for Nancy to shake. The mayor's daughter? Charlie sure likes to live dangerously.

  "Alex Kincaid. It's a pleasure to meet you."

  Nancy gripped Alex's hand in a firm shake before letting go and fanning herself. “Pleasure's all mine. I don't know how y'all can work outside in this heat. The sun's been down for almost two hours and I'm still sweltering.” She smiled up at Charlie with a knowing glint. “I'll wait for you outside."

  Alex and Brett's eyebrows rose in surprise as Nancy slipped past the couple into the warm night air. Brett was the first to come out of his daze.

  "Don't let her father see you leave with her.” When Charlie opened his mouth to protest, he continued, “You're a free man, but he still knows what you've done."