by Tina Leonard
It hit him that Ava was acting like she was part of a circle, part of a community, committed to helping Hell in any way she could. Which meant she wasn’t leaving.
She wasn’t leaving.
His heart beat in a normal rhythm, for the first time since he’d last seen her. Even his breathing had been tight.
He’d been so sure he’d never kiss her again.
Never see her again.
He remembered how sweetly she’d opened to him, allowing him to kiss her most delicate place, love her the way he hungered to. He wished they were alone so he could kiss her that way right now, wished he was holding her in his arms, giving her the pleasure it thrilled him to give her.
As if she knew what he was thinking, she smiled at him, her eyes wide and trusting, and sweet.
He had to get back inside her. Had to hold her, had to make hot love to her. Wanted desperately to wake up with her in the morning, see her eyes open and welcome him right before he entered her to start the day, waking her with the love he wanted to give her.
“So, Trace,” Steel said, “things pretty quiet out at your place now that your brothers have deserted you?”
“It’s real quiet.” He laid in the pie filling, the scent of peaches somehow reminding him of Ava. “I got a text saying they were in Montana.”
“Montana!” Everyone stared at him.
He shrugged. “There’s a rodeo there.”
“So?” Judy demanded. “They’re not riding anymore.”
“I think they’re bullfighting,” Trace said, and Cameron gasped.
“That’s sneaky!” She glared around the room. “He should be training us.”
“None of them ever promised to,” Judy said, her tone sad. “Except Trace.”
Their gazes bounced to him, and Trace’s collar grew a little warm. “And you see how well that worked out,” Judy said.
“Now,” Trace said, holding up his hand, “to be fair, I gave the idea great consideration.” He couldn’t meet Ava’s eyes. “And I’m still overseeing training for Cameron and Harper.”
“I don’t understand,” Judy said. “You need to work this out with Ava.”
Ava didn’t look at him, and that’s when Trace realized she’d been avoiding him on purpose. She wasn’t coming back to training, wasn’t going to ask him anymore. She’d quit on him, no longer believing in him as an instructor.
He damn sure couldn’t blame her.
“Where are you riding, Ava?” He knew she was working her horse out somewhere. Ava was too conscientious to let Mack go without working out.
The room went dead silent. Trace looked at his friends, realizing they were all keeping a secret from him. An uncomfortable idea came to him, worrying him. Surely she wouldn’t have gone back to the Horsemen. Ava wouldn’t do that. She knew it would drive him nuts.
Absolutely insane.
Yet she’d loaded her horse in her trailer and had moved it without ever mentioning it to him. He’d assumed it was because he was busy, run over with everything that needed to be done at the training center.
Now he knew differently.
“So?” he asked. “Where are you working out?”
“At Steel’s.” Well, at least she hadn’t returned to the Horsemen. She looked at him, her chin raised a little. “It’s working out well.”
Yeah, it was working out well, so well he never got to see her, never had the accidental run-in where she might cross his path. She was avoiding him, he realized uncomfortably. Giving him space, or giving them space. Keeping distance. What had she said? Something about last Saturday night could never happen again.
It had happened once more, on Sunday. Monday had started a brand-new week in Hell, a complete do-over. She had no intention of coming back to him.
Just friends.
He did not want to be just friends.
But he didn’t know what he did want to be, except more than this, staring at her across a butcher-block counter, lusting for her over a peach pie and floury dough.
He shook his head. “Glad it’s working out. Steel knows his horses.”
And that was all he said. As if it didn’t matter.
It mattered.
But the words seemed to have a soothing effect on the room. The tension lifted, and everyone went back to fixing the pie or cake or whatever the hell they were working on.
So no one heard his heart shattering into a million pieces.
* * *
Tired but happy that they’d managed to get all of Hattie’s baking done for the week, Ava left the Rolling Thunder and got in her truck.
“It’s too soon to go home,” Cameron said. “Let’s go skinny-dipping.”
Ava looked at her friends as they piled in next to her. As their time together in Hell had progressed, she’d found herself growing really close to them—the sisters she’d never had. “Skinny-dipping?”
“It would get the flour out of our hair,” Harper said, flipping her blonde locks as she commandeered the rearview mirror for primping.
“So would a shower,” Ava said, and they blew raspberries at her. “Okay, a swim sounds good, but let’s grab our swimsuits.”
“And let’s walk on the wild side. If we go to Trace’s pond, no one will see us. And there’s tree swings!” Cameron said.
Ava swallowed. She didn’t want to get any closer to Trace’s place than necessary. She’d felt him watching her tonight, hotly, intensely.
“Trace won’t mind,” Harper said. “He told us we could use it anytime we liked. And showed us where the floats are.”
“And the hidden beer fridge.” Cameron giggled. “He’s set up for good times out at that pond.”
“It’s not really a pond,” Harper pointed out. “It’s more like a giant pool. He keeps it really clean and checks the water regularly.”
Ava shifted the truck, pulled out from the square. It couldn’t hurt. Trace probably wouldn’t go home this early, and even if he did, he wouldn’t go down to the pond. “All right. But I’m not skinny-dipping. And we need towels. We’re stopping by the bungalow so I can get my suit.”
“We’re never going to get you over to the wild side,” Cameron said. “But that’s okay. Because when we get to the pond, we’re going to make you go off the tree swing.”
Ava nodded. “A tree swing I can handle.”
“Says the woman who’s going with Steel to the rodeo next weekend to work the gate,” Harper said. “When are you going to tell Trace?”
“Why would I?” Ava didn’t see why it was any of Trace’s business what she did. They’d said everything that needed to be said last week. She understood the rules of the game in Hell. And she also understood Trace.
They could be friends. From afar.
Because she was staying in Hell. Only she wasn’t Dee. She wasn’t going to change into something she wasn’t. A year from now, she was still going to be the woman she was today, the woman he didn’t want to train, and with whom he didn’t want a relationship.
Saturday Night Specials with Trace weren’t what she wanted, and that was all he was offering. It was fine for Judy. She and Steel were happy that way. Or at least Judy was. Steel made no bones about wanting more from the mayor.
“Did I ever tell you guys I’m a virgin?” Cameron asked, and Ava nearly slammed the brakes on.
“Whoa,” Harper said. “That cannot be possible.”
“It most certainly is.” Cameron nodded, practically bouncing with excitement. “Why do you think I’m doing my best to walk on the wild side?” She dug an elbow lightly into Ava’s ribs. “I’d give it up if Saint liked me the way Trace likes you.”
Ava grimaced. “Trace doesn’t like anyone but himself.”
“True,” Harper said, “but if he was going to like someone besides himself, it would be you. He looked as if he was going to crawl over the pies and devour you tonight.”
Ava shivered. She’d felt his perusal of her.
But that wasn’t all that she wanted.
&
nbsp; She pulled into the bungalow parking lot. “Let’s hurry. All that baking made me crave a beer.”
She thought she saw a shadow around the corner of the bungalow as they went inside, decided it was nothing more than a cloud passing in front of the moon. They all ran to their rooms, grabbing up towels and changing as fast as they could. This was sisterhood; this was the fun she’d missed by never leaving home to go off to college. Panty raids, late nights in the dorms, early-morning doughnut runs after studying. The things she’d wanted and had passed up to work at the paper factory. It was fine—she’d done what she had to do to help out her family; she didn’t regret it at all.
But this was so much fun.
They raced, giggling, back to the truck, and Ava drove them to Trace’s pond.
“He’s probably at Redfeathers,” Cameron said. “I’ll get out the floats.”
“I’ll get us some beers,” Harper said, and Ava felt a smattering of jealousy that her friends knew so much about Trace that she didn’t.
She took the float Cameron handed her and dove into the cool water, then straddled the float. “Did you notice that Steel and Judy seemed to have made up?”
Harper paddled over with three bottles on her float. “Wine coolers. Trace must have put them in for us. All we have to remember to do is put everything in the metal trash can and put the lid on. He’s real careful about raccoons and other critters.”
Again, Ava felt a little pang. They hooked their rafts together so they could float and chat, and Ava looked up at the stars in the sky and thought Hell was actually pretty heavenly. It was all in how you looked at it.
“Yes,” Cameron said, “Steel and Judy seem to be on track. I saw him sneaking a smooch in Hattie’s kitchen today, and she actually let him.”
“A lot changed after that night at the Honky-tonk.” Harper lay on her back. “Everything changed somehow. We probably haven’t been in Hell long enough to understand exactly what went on.”
Ava sipped her wine cooler. “Mayor Judy lost some hair. That was a big deal.” They all laughed. Ava smiled, remembering Judy’s outrage over her pride and joy, the blonde puff of hair she teased impossibly high and which somehow never seemed to look fake. Just Judy-beautiful.
“My son will be here tomorrow,” Harper said, her voice dreamy. “This is my last night to get my girl on.”
“Only for about eighteen years,” Ava said. “I’m looking forward to meeting Michael.”
“My ex-boyfriend is such an ass,” Harper said. “There are nights I wake up in a sweat, worrying that Michael will turn out like his dad.”
“I’m so sorry!” Ava looked over at Harper. She was so pretty and determined, and she never complained. And she was totally professional about her riding. No one would have suspected Harper had such things weighing on her.
“That sucks,” Cameron agreed. “There are lots of excellent father figures in Hell.”
“Who?” Harper asked. “Besides Trace. And Steel.”
Ava blinked. “Trace? He’s not a father figure at all.” He was hot and sexy as heck, but he’d never settle down and become a father.
“Neither is Steel, but he’s still a great father figure and role model. You don’t have to have kids to be a man a kid can look up to.” Harper looked over at them. “Did you guys know that Judy is forty-two, and Steel is fifty-eight?”
Ava blinked. “I didn’t know that.”
“Well, did you know that the judge is sweet on Hattie?” Cameron asked them.
“Hattie’s so beautiful,” Harper said. “Why don’t they go out?”
“Because Hattie’s busy with the café. And her daughter is the apple of her eye. She says she doesn’t have any room in her life for anyone but her daughter.”
“Isn’t her daughter older?” Ava asked. “Like twenty years old or something?”
“Yeah, but Hattie says she can’t think about romance until her daughter finishes college,” Harper said. “Since her husband passed years ago, Hattie’s pretty much devoted herself to making sure her daughter has everything she needs.” Harper went on with her story. “Apparently her daughter’s really smart. She knows three or more languages, and I think she’s going to take the LSAT for law school.”
“Wow,” Ava said. “I can’t wait to meet her.”
“Well, she’s supposed to be just like her mother. Practical, sane, beautiful,” Harper said.
They all took that in for a minute. Ava watched tiny clouds sift across the moon, sighed with happiness. “Did you guys know Judy was a Texas beauty queen?”
“Get out!” Cameron said.
“It’s true. She nearly made it all the way in the Miss Texas pageant. Only they cut her in the last round because they said her hair was too light. Said it looked like a lightbulb was in it.” Ava smiled. “Judy said that was the nicest compliment anyone could have given her, because she wants to be a lightbulb—always on, always shining. So she wouldn’t tone down her hair, and they cut her from the competition.”
“Crazy,” Harper murmured. “I can see why Judy gets up Ivy’s nose.”
“Did you hear something?” Ava asked, sitting up, scanning the trees and plants shrouding the pond.
“Just the breeze in the trees,” Cameron said, laughing.
Ava lay back down. “Probably.”
“Sometimes Prince comes down here for a swim.” Harper glanced toward Trace’s house. “If he does, don’t be surprised if you hear a giant splash.”
“Trace sure does love that dog.” Cameron paddled over to the pier, deposited her bottle, grabbed another one. “Anybody want another?”
“Me,” Harper said. “It’s my last night to touch alcohol. Once Michael’s here, it will never pass my lips.”
Ava handed Cameron her bottle, and they all raised their new ones to each other. “To another Saturday night in Hell.”
“It doesn’t get better than this!” Cameron exclaimed.
“So did you never have a steady boyfriend, Cameron?” Ava asked. Of the three of them, Cameron was by far the toughest, and seemed the wildest. Ava could hardly imagine that Cameron had never had a serious boyfriend.
“I’ve never been in love.” Cameron looked up at the sky. “I think that’s why the Horsemen tempted me. I knew there was nothing there but wild times.”
“It was fun while it lasted,” Harper said.
Ava stared at the stars. She’d never had eyes for anyone but Trace from the day she’d come to Hell.
“What about your two steadies?” Cameron asked her. “Never a temptation to get married?”
“No.” Now that she’d met Trace, she knew why she’d never before wanted to get married. Even as impossible as a relationship between them was, she was head over heels for the sexy cowboy. He maddened her, he drove her nuts—but he was the sweetest, most tender, considerate man she’d ever known. “I was never really in love before.”
“Not like you are with Trace,” Cameron said. “Totally understandable.”
“And did you notice,” Harper said, rolling on her float to look at them, “how he suddenly showed up at Hattie’s tonight? Like he’s ever sat around and made pies on a Saturday night before!”
Cameron and Harper laughed. “He’s been asking us about you all week,” Cameron said, “as discreetly as possible, of course. Between you and his brothers ditching him, he’s been like a sad teddy bear.”
“I didn’t ditch him,” Ava said. “We’re just in different places.” That was true. Life was like that, she thought: You think you’ll never meet the man of your dreams, and then you do, but it turns out his dreams don’t fit yours. “We just have different goals.”
“I think,” Cameron said, “that those three Outlaws are so scarred from serving in the war that they may never settle down.”
“That might be.” Harper let her toes trail in the water. “I like Declan, but he might not like Michael. I don’t even know if he knows I have a son. So I never really took him seriously when he said he’d marry me in
a heartbeat.”
“Marry you?” Ava and Cameron both sat up to stare at Harper.
“Well, he wasn’t serious.” Harper looked at the moon, her pretty face serene. “That one talks a good game. But he’s harmless.”
Ava closed her eyes. They floated in silence for a while, lost in their thoughts.
A huge splash rained water droplets over all of them. Prince had launched himself off the pier, and was dog-paddling toward them with a huge, pleased doggie smile on his face. He went from Harper to Cameron to Ava, currying favor, and Ava smiled as she petted Prince’s wet head.
I’m going to have to remember how much pleasure you can get just from diving in.
* * *
Trace halted among the pines when he realized Prince had spied the three naiads before he had. Damn, they all had bikinis on, and he wasn’t sure at this distance but he was almost certain the cool water and the light breeze had Ava’s nipples puckered like beads.
Girls’ night out. He didn’t dare intrude. Prince was down there sucking up all the attention, and he heard ohs and aws from the girls as they fell for the dog’s conniving, can’t-resist-me seduction. Trace sighed. Lucky dog.
They were safe enough here. Prince wouldn’t allow anybody near the pond who didn’t belong on the property without setting up a ferocious barkfest that would raise the dead. Trace reluctantly gave up his spying, returning to his lonely house.
He looked out the window, curious to see where the girls had parked. How had he missed three beautiful women pulling up in his drive?
Sure enough, her truck was out there. They’d slipped up on him somehow, probably while he was napping on the sofa with Prince.
A shadow crawled out of Ava’s truck bed, and Trace tensed. Eli Larson. The man glanced around, looking toward the house, then headed down the road.
Trace’s gut tightened. So that’s how Eli always managed to get from point A to point B. He opened his door.
“Eli!”
The man took off running, faster than Trace would have imagined. He’d catch him the next time he saw him in town, ask him what the hell he’d been doing in Ava’s truck bed. It was a little eerie, more so than he wanted to admit.
