Diamonds and Dust

by Jessie Evans

  Even after an hour long run, a half hour of PT exercises, a cold shower, and another hour spent answering email from his agent, doctor, and physical therapist, he still couldn’t get her face out of his head. By the time Mia got back to the shop after her lunch date, Pike was itching to get out of the apartment and do something to get his mind off a certain curvy little blonde with eyes that saw to the bottom of his soul.

  He dug Chad’s card out of the pocket of the shirt he’d worn last night and punched the number into his cell.

  “Hey Cutter, it’s Sherman,” Pike said when the other man answered on the first ring. “I was wondering if you’d be up for that beer. I could use a couple before I head to my parents’ house for dinner tonight.”

  “Sure thing, just a second.” Chad conferred with someone in the background before getting back on the line. “My secretary says I’ve got a meeting in ten minutes, but it won’t take long. Just have to tell this woman she’s not getting any more easy money and I’ll be free for the afternoon. Want to swing by the office and I can show you around before we hit the Blue Saloon’s happy hour? I’m on Main, next to the old theater.”

  “Sounds good. See you in a few.” Pike hung up and grabbed his black Stetson from the bureau, settling it on his head before moving quietly down the stairs. He waved to Mia, who was busy with a gaggle of women loudly discussing the evils of the underwire bra, and escaped out the front door of the lingerie shop before he could attract attention.

  Outside, the bright summer day made him grateful he’d remembered his hat. He rarely wore a cowboy hat when he wasn’t at the ranch, but it felt good to have protection from the glaring sun, as well as the citizens of Lonesome Point. On the whole, the people in his hometown had been respectful of his privacy the few times he’d returned home, but a near mobbing at a Halloween carnival a few years back had made him wary. He usually kept his hat pulled low and his eyes on the sidewalk when he went outside, making it clear he wasn’t looking for attention, but today he couldn’t resist looking around.

  Main Street had undergone a facelift in the past few years and was starting to look more like something out of Disneyland rather than the well-worn town of his childhood years. The old west style buildings had been refurbished and repainted, antique gas lights lined the street, and horse hitches graced the front of several buildings, giving the people who organized historic trail rides a place to tie their horses when they ended their tours. His grandmother’s restored ghost town was bringing in more visitors than ever before and the city council expected tourism to double after the newly renovated portion of Old Town opened next summer.

  Lonesome Point was experiencing a second heyday, but even if it weren’t, the rest of his family would never consider living anywhere else. This town was in their blood. Pike was the only Sherman in eight generations to buy a home outside of southwest Texas. Maybe if he and his dad had been able to get along, things would have been different, but they hadn’t, and Pike was happy on his Montana ranch.

  This town was where he’d grown up, but it wasn’t home anymore. His home was in the Bitterroot Mountains, where there was nothing but land and sky for miles and he could always hear himself think. He’d been in Palm Springs with Bella before the wedding, but he was going home when the week was through to enjoy a few cool, Montana mornings before, hopefully, rejoining the season already in progress.

  His thoughts were still on blue sky and the sound of the wind through the pine trees on his four hundred acres when he ducked inside the Head Starts office to hear a familiar voice coming from behind the cracked office door to his left.

  “Respectfully, Chad, I have to disagree. This program isn’t new age fluff. I’ve seen autistic kids transformed by equine therapy.”

  The tone was firmer than anything Pike had ever heard out of Tulsi’s mouth, but there was no doubt the voice belonged to his ex. For a second he considered easing back through the door and waiting for Chad outside, but the secretary at the front desk had spotted him and was motioning for him to take a seat in an overstuffed armchair in the waiting room near the fish tank.

  Pike slid into the chair and reached for a magazine to distract himself, but it was virtually impossible not to eavesdrop.

  “This is real medicine,” Tulsi continued. “And a powerful healing tool for children who haven’t responded to traditional methods.”

  “Listen, Tulsi,” Chad said in a condescending tone very different from the friendly one he’d used with Pike. “I understand this is your livelihood and you’ll be out of a job if you can’t find someone to pay you to work with these kids for free, but—”

  “This isn’t about me,” Tulsi said, voice trembling as she cut him off. “This is about giving hope to children who have spent their lives suffering. This is about giving victims of abuse and kids who feel powerless in their own lives a way to experience control, responsibility, and the capacity to nurture another creature when—”

  “Wow,” Chad laughed. “You’re really worked up about this.”

  “Of course I am,” Tulsi said incredulously. “I love these kids. So much. If you could just take a look at the footage I sent, you’ll see—”

  “You’re prettier when you’re angry,” Chad interrupted. “Brings out your eyes.”

  “Well…th-thank you, but I’m n-not angry,” Tulsi said, stuttering the way she did when she was anxious, making Pike want to shoulder his way into the office and tell Chad to back off. There was a time and a place to give a woman a compliment and in the middle of a business meeting wasn’t it.

  Besides, Pike didn’t care for the edge in Chad’s voice, that hard note that made the compliment come off as an act of aggression.

  “I’m just c-concerned about what will happen to my kids if their therapy is cut off,” Tulsi continued. “I want to do whatever I can to make sure their services continue. I’m already applying for other grants, but it takes time for awards to be decided. If you could just give me a few extra months, I’m sure—”

  “I’m sorry, the money’s already been promised to another program,” Chad said, not sounding sorry at all. “But we could talk about a loan. Are you free for dinner tonight?”

  “Um…no, I mean y-yes,” Tulsi stammered. “But I don’t see why we can’t discuss this now. That’s why I’m here, right?”

  “You’re here because you didn’t like the answer I gave you on the phone and thought you could sweet talk me into changing my mind,” Chad said, clearly enjoying lording his power over a woman who needed his help. “But if you want to hear a no turn into a yes, I’ll need more convincing than we can get into at the office. I think that kind of…meeting of the minds works better after hours. I could pick you up at six. We could get dinner, then go back to my place.”

  Tulsi was quiet for a long moment, a moment in which Pike had to fight the urge to storm into the office and punch Chad in the face. He wasn’t about to go out for a beer with a man who was insinuating he needed sex in order to consider a request for charitable funding, but he couldn’t leave, either. He had to stay until he knew Tulsi was okay and didn’t agree to do something she would regret because her back was against the wall.

  “If you’re asking me out, the answer is no,” Tulsi said, her voice trembling. “I thought this was a professional meeting.”

  Chad chuckled again, but it was a nasty sound, not an amused one. Pike glanced up at the secretary, wondering what she thought of all this, but her gaze was fixed on her computer screen and her jaw set. She obviously wasn’t surprised, but she didn’t intend to intervene, either. She probably needed her job more than she needed to stick up for a woman being sexually harassed, but Pike had no such conflict of interests.

  He surged to his feet and started toward the office.

  “All right, I understand,” Chad said.

  Pike paused with his hand on the door, giving the other man one last chance to dig himself out of this hole before it was too late.

  “It’s clear you think very highly
of yourself, Tulsi,” Chad continued. “Hopefully that will help you in your search for funding because you won’t be getting another dime from the Head Starts organization. I’m withdrawing all support, starting today.”

  “That’s not fair.” Tulsi’s breath rushed out with a stricken sound. “You said two more months! Please, I’m begging you to reconsider. This isn’t about you and me, this is about innocent kids who—”

  “There is no me and you, right?” Chad’s footsteps moved closer to the open door. “But if you change your mind before tonight and decide you want that loan, give me a call. Dinner’s off the table, but we can get a drink at my place and you can show me if you can do something more entertaining with that mouth than beg for my money.”

  Later, Pike wouldn’t remember making a decision to move. He was simply standing outside the office one minute and the next he had Chad bent over a massive desk with his fist inches from the other man’s face. The only thing that stopped him from laying into the prick was the feel of Tulsi’s fingers wrapping around his elbow.

  “Don’t. He’s not worth it,” she begged, tugging on his arm. “Come on, Pike. Please. Don’t make this worse than it already is.”

  “Stay away from her,” Pike growled into Chad’s ashen face. “If you so much as look at her sideways, I’ll personally pull your head through your ass. Do you understand me?”

  Chad’s breath rushed out. “Listen, man, I didn’t know you were here, I—”

  “You’re a piece of shit, Cutter.” Pike released his grip on the other man’s suit coat with a rough shove. “You’re not worthy to lick her feet.”

  Pike looped his arm around Tulsi’s waist. “Let’s go, Tulsi.”

  He hustled her out of the office and across the waiting room to the door, fighting the urge to throw her over his shoulder and carry her out of the building. He ignored the primal voice in his head that insisted Chad should suffer the beating of his life for daring to talk to his woman that way. It didn’t matter that Tulsi hadn’t been his for years.

  All he could think was—mine.

  Tulsi was under his protection and no one was going to hurt her, not as long as he had breath left in his body.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Tulsi

  Under normal circumstances, Tulsi would have still been reeling from the nightmarish meeting with Chad. But with Pike’s arm around her, gluing her to his muscled body as he practically carried her across the street, all she could think about was how incredible it felt to be close to him. It was almost too much to wrap her head around.

  Pike was touching her, holding her. Her body was pressed tight to his for the first time since he’d kissed her behind the barn at his parents’ house seven years ago, the afternoon everything had gone to hell, and her body was on the verge of a spontaneous meltdown. She tried to tell herself this didn’t mean anything and Pike would have responded the same way if it had been any of Mia’s friends being harassed by a creep. But she’d never heard him sound so angry and the possessive way he’d swept her out of the office had her stomach fluttering and her body aching to get even closer to him.

  By the time he charged up the stairs into the Blue Saloon, pushed open the swinging doors, and lifted her onto a stool with an ease that made her viscerally aware of the powerful man he’d become, Tulsi had to sit on her hands to keep from wrapping her arms around him and holding on tight. She wasn’t ready to let him go. She needed more time, just a few more minutes to memorize the way they fit together, to give her something to replay over and over in her mind while lying alone in the dark for another seven years.

  “What the hell were you thinking?” Pike braced his palms on the bar on either side of her, leaning in until he was so close his Pike smell—still familiar after all these years—rushed through her head, making her racing heart beat even faster. “There’s no point in trying to reason with a prick like that. You should have been out of there five minutes ago, the second things starting going south.”

  “I know…I just…” Tulsi swallowed as she forced her gaze from Pike’s lips, knowing she’d never be able to form a sentence if she kept thinking about kissing him. Unfortunately, looking into his eyes only made things worse.

  Their gazes connected and Tulsi’s breath rushed out even as a fire whooshed to life inside her.

  God, she wanted him. She wanted him as much as she had when she was eighteen and every nerve in her body ignited with desire when they touched. She wanted to be skin to skin with Pike, to breathe his breath, to feel his pulse echoing in her chest and feel as safe and treasured as she’d always felt in his arms. She wanted to make love to him until all the walls were down and all the hurt had been healed because she had never stopped loving this man, no matter how much she’d wanted to, no matter how hard she’d tried.

  The charged silence thickened the air between them, broken only by the tinny notes of a country song playing on the jukebox in the corner. Slowly, Pike’s gaze slid from her eyes down to her mouth, and for a heart-stopping moment Tulsi thought he was going to kiss her.

  Instead, he whispered, “Don’t look at me like that.”

  “Like what?” she asked, just as Clint, the bartender, materialized behind her.

  “Hey, Tulsi, can I get you two something to drink?”

  “Two whiskey shots and a draft beer chaser, a pale ale if you’ve got it,” Pike said, not breaking eye contact with Tulsi. He waited until Clint moved away down the bar to fix the drinks before he continued. “You know like what. Don’t play games with me.”

  She swallowed hard. “I’m not playing games. I’m… I just…”

  “Just what?” He leaned closer, until she could feel his breath warming her lips, sending a tremor of need rocking through her from head to toe.

  She didn’t want to talk; she wanted to taste him. She wanted her tongue stroking against his and his big hands roaming over her body so much that it felt like she’d die if she didn’t get to be that close to him. Just one more time. Just once before he went away and left her behind all over again.

  “Just what,” Pike repeated softly.

  “I can’t help it,” she said, her longing so thick it felt like she was choking on it. “I’m sorry, but I j-just c-can’t.”

  Pike’s gaze softened as he lifted one hand, brushing his knuckles lightly from her cheekbone to the point of her chin, stealing her breath away. “Relax, okay? It’s just me. You know I would never hurt you.”

  Her lips parted to say that he’d already hurt her, hurt her so badly that she’d done something unforgivable, but before she could speak, Clint set the drinks down on the bar beside her with a loud thunk thunk thunk.

  “Two whiskey shots and a pale ale,” he said, an edge in his usually friendly voice. “You want me to start a tab, Mr. Sherman?”

  “No, I’ll pay now.” Pike shifted to pull his wallet from his jeans pocket, putting some much-needed distance between them and giving Tulsi a chance to pull herself together.

  She couldn’t afford the luxury of easing her conscience. She couldn’t let her mouth run without thinking or give Pike any reason to suspect the truth.

  “That’ll be fifteen dollars even,” Clint said, but he didn’t reach for the credit card when Pike laid it on the bar. “You okay, Tulsi? You seem a little shook up.”

  “Oh no, I’m fine.” Tulsi turned on her stool, forcing a smile for the forty-something bartender who had always gone out of his way to look after her and her girlfriends when they came into the saloon.

  “Are you sure?” Clint smiled, but the warmth in his eyes faded as his gaze shifted to Pike. “I can call someone for you if you need me to.”

  Tulsi shook her head. “Everything is fine, but thank you, Clint. You’re one of the good ones.”

  “You too, sweetheart,” he said gruffly, his skin flushing beneath his whiskered cheeks. “Just let me know if you need anything else. Anything at all.”

  Tulsi nodded but kept her gaze on the bar, as he moved away, and Pike claimed th
e stool beside hers. She had to get a grip. She couldn’t give away her secrets or make a scene with Pike in a bar in the middle of the day. Someone would see and go tattling to her dad the way they had the night she went line dancing with Bubba’s fiancée, Marisol. Daddy was still making jabs at dinner about the spectacle Tulsi had made of herself, his attitude making it clear he equated dancing in public with working a pole down at the seedy strip club near the border.

  She knew he was being ridiculous, but she hated the way he’d looked at her the day he found out about the dancing. She didn’t know if her heart could take another bruising like that one, at least not until her mom got back into town to counter Daddy’s disapproval with a hug and a whisper to “ignore it, honey,” in the kitchen after supper.

  “Looks like you’ve got no shortage of protectors,” Pike said, lifting his whiskey shot and downing it with a twist of his wrist. “You’re good at the damsel in distress routine.”

  “What do you mean by that?” she asked, frowning up at him.

  Pike pushed the second shot her way with two long, slender fingers. “The quiver in your voice and those big, sad eyes. I mean, how could a man resist doing whatever it takes to make you feel better?”

  Tulsi sat up straighter, anger cooling her lust. “You make it sound like I’m manipulating people. I’m not. I’m upset, that’s all.”

  Pike seemed to chew on that, his jaw working back and forth as he fought to keep from saying something awful. But she knew Pike and his faces too well for him to hide behind a clenched jaw.

  “What?” she prodded after a moment. “Go ahead, speak your mind.”

  “I don’t think you’d like it,” he said, taking a long swig of the pale ale sweating on the bar. “Might hurt your feelings.”

  “So?” she snapped. “It’s not like you could hurt me any more than you have already.”

  Pike’s eyebrows lifted toward the brim of his hat. “Excuse me?”

  Tulsi mentally cursed her inability to hold her tongue as she snatched her whiskey shot off the bar and tipped it back in one gulp, hoping Pike would let it go if she refused to answer. She hadn’t meant to start this conversation and there wasn’t enough liquid courage in the world to get her through it without falling apart.