by Desiree Holt
“Your name Kyle Mitchell?” the man asked.
“Uh, I’d say you already know that,” Kyle said.
“Just getting it down for the record. All right, then. Kyle Mitchell, you have been found guilty of being drunk and disorderly and causing damage to property. Fifty dollars for the fine and two hundred for repairs.” He smacked a gavel on the table. “Dismissed. He’s all yours, Jessie.”
She unfolded her arms and opened the door. “Not mine, Sam. I’ll be happy to see the last of him.”
“Wait a minute.” Kyle was trying to make sense of what was happening. “Wait just a damn minute. Drunk? Disorderly? Damage? What the hell is going on here? I don’t even know what happened.”
“Your friend’s waiting outside for you,” the feisty blonde told him. “He can explain everything. Come on. Let’s get this over with.”
Friend? What friend? Who had come to fetch him? And where the hell was he, anyway?
He followed the sheriff through a door into what looked like the main room of the sheriff’s office. A dispatcher sat at a communications center against one wall, four desks were arrange in the open space, and tucked into a far corner was a miniscule office that Kyle assumed belonged to the sheriff.
A uniformed deputy waited for him at one of the desks, and lounging in a chair beside it was Gary Handler, grinning like a fool.
“Enjoy your night out, Kyle?” he asked and winked at the sheriff.
Those full lips never cracked a smile. “Let’s hope he doesn’t enjoy any more like them any time soon.”
“Gary, exactly where the fuck are we? And how did I get here?”
“Better watch your language in front of a lady,” Gary told him, still grinning like an idiot. “You’re in Watson’s Creek.”
Where?
“How did I get here? Why did I get here?”
Now Gary laughed, a loud sound that grated on Kyle’s nerves.
“You told the little buckle bunny you’d follow her anywhere. This was where she took you.”
“Huh?” He would have scratched his head, but it still hurt too badly. “Then how did I end up in jail?”
“You got in a fight with some…Neanderthal who apparently wanted to take charge of your…buckle bunny,” the sheriff snapped. “It took four of my deputies to break up the fight and poor Charley Haggerty had to close the bar down.” She looked at her deputy. “Judd, give Mr. Mitchell back his belongings so he can pay his fine and get out of my jurisdiction.”
The deputy handed him a large plastic bag with his watch, his signet ring, his wallet and other odds and ends he’d had in his pockets. From a desk drawer, he removed Kyle’s prized black Stetson and held it out carefully. Kyle clapped it on his head, wincing at even that slight pressure, opened his wallet and fished out the required money.
“I want a receipt,” he told the deputy.
“Got one right here.”
As pulled together as he could be, he turned to the woman in charge. “I don’t suppose you’d care to tell me your name, would you? Since I spent the night in your fine establishment.”
She glared at him. “Jessica Wade. Sheriff Jessica Wade. But you won’t be using it again.”
Kyle grinned at her. Man, she sure was cute when she got her temper up. “Well, Sheriff Jessie—Can I call you Jessie? It suits your style a little more—it’s a pleasure to meet you.”
“You may call me Sheriff, and I wish I could say the same,” she snapped. “Get out of here and don’t come back to Watson’s Creek, Mr. Mitchell. We can’t afford your visits.”
Gary tugged on his arm. “Come on, hot shot. Let’s get out of here before they decide to stick you back in that cell.”
“But—”
“No buts. Let’s go.” He literally pulled Kyle from the office, through the door and outside. “Get in,” he ordered, opening the passenger door to his truck before jogging around to the other side of the vehicle. He cranked the engine over and pulled out of the parking lot, turning onto the street and heading toward the Interstate.
“Whew!” Kyle leaned back against the seat’s headrest. “She’s a pistol, isn’t she? Mmm-mmm. A fine woman.”
“Aren’t you in enough trouble?” Gary asked. “Spending the night in a cell? I’d wipe her from my mind if I were you. Chasing tail’s what got you into this predicament in the first place.”
****
“I’m telling you, Kyle, you’re gonna get your cock in a vise if you do this.”
Gary lounged in a chair in Kyle’s hotel room, watching him stuff his wallet into the pocket of fresh jeans. Kyle had showered, shaved and swallowed what looked like half a bottle of acetaminophen along with two pots of coffee. His hands still shook a little, but he was considerably better than he had been that morning.
“I made a bad impression on Sheriff Jessie,” he said. “I intend to correct it.”
And do a lot more.
In his entire life, he’d never been sucker-punched by the sight of a woman until Sheriff Jessica Wade had looked at him through the bars of that cell. Jessie, he reminded himself. She really looked like a Jessie. She was the first one in ages who hadn’t been star-struck by his celebrity and fallen at his feet. Sometimes stark naked.
No, this woman presented a real challenge, one impossible to resist. He found himself imagining ways to get around those big tall walls she’d built around herself. He just hoped he wasn’t going to crash and burn.
“She’s not your run-of-the-mill buckle bunny like you’re so fond of, hot shot,” Gary warned. “It’ll take a lot more than the patented Mitchell charm.”
“Not to worry.” He hoped his voice sounded as casual as he meant it to. It wouldn’t do for Gary to know that this little episode was a tad more important than his usual escapades. “I’ll sweep her off her feet.”
“Well, you’d better stay away from the bourbon and out of Charley’s. And remember, she carries a very big gun.”
Kyle swallowed a bubble of trepidation, took a last look at himself in the mirror and turned to face his friend. “How the hell did I get so out of control last night, anyway?”
Gary shrugged. “An eight-second ride on Sodbuster, a big fat check and enough points to take to Grand Nationals. And an armful of woman just looking to help you celebrate.”
“You know…” Kyle made a face. “I don’t even remember what she looked like.”
Gary pushed himself out of the chair. “I gotta tell you, pal. I haven’t seen you tie one on like that in years.”
And he hadn’t. Kyle had been riding bulls on the rodeo circuit for fifteen years. He wasn’t a green kid looking to make a splash. Stupid between the ears. He’d earned his stripes and picked up a lot of wisdom along the way. But a year ago Sodbuster had nearly ended his career and his life. Finishing the eight-second ride on the back of that monster was cause for celebration, but he’d been dumb enough to let it get out of hand.
Sheriff Jessie Wade had looked at him like he was dirt beneath her feet. After what he’d done, he couldn’t blame her. But that woman reached out to him in a way no woman had in years. Not just to his cock but to every part of his body. Somehow he had to get in her good graces. Because he wanted Sheriff Jessie Ward. Really wanted her.
“So.” He checked himself in the mirror once more, making sure he’d showered and scrubbed and polished away every vestige of the bum he’d looked like. “Where the hell is Watson’s Creek and how do I get there?”
Gary pushed himself up from the chair, laughing.
“It’s not as far as you think. Thirty miles west on the Interstate. There’s only one exit sign for it so be sure not to miss it.”
Kyle jingled his keys nervously. “You think I’m liable to run into that hanger-on who took me for a ride last night?”
“Maybe. You’ll just have to finagle your way around that one. And I won’t be around to keep an eye on things for you.”
Kyle laughed. “Fat lot of good you did me last night.”
“Hey!”
Gary held up his hands. “I wasn’t about to let one of your fists mess up my pretty face. You were swinging like a gorilla.”
Kyle winced. “Yeah, that’d be a bitch to get past.” Then he smiled. “But I definitely plan to do it.”
Gary opened the door. “The Houston rodeo opens in five days, you know. You still planning to leave when I do and get there early?”
Kyle nodded. “The company that owns Sodbuster is trailering him there. I want to get there early enough to study him a little beforehand and see what I have to do to make sure I draw him again.”
“You sure you want another crack at him? You got by this time with no broken bones.”
“Gotta let him know who’s boss.”
Gary shrugged. “Your funeral. Well, I have stuff to do today but I plan to hit the road in two days.” He slapped Kyle on the back. “Good luck. Oh, and a few peace offerings wouldn’t hurt, either.”
****
“Sheriff?” Jonas Beck, her youngest deputy, stuck his head through the open door of Jessie’s office. “That…uh…guy is here.”
Jessie dropped the folder she was leafing through on her desk and raised her eyes, frowning. “Guy? What guy?”
“You know. The one that busted up Charley’s place.”
Jessie felt her eyebrows rise almost to her hairline. “He’s here? In the office?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“What does he want?” A knot twisted in her stomach. Had he come back to make a scene? She hoped not. She wasn’t up to another clash.
“I don’t know, Sheriff. But…uh…I think you’d better come out here.”
Feeling dread in every muscle of her body, Jessie pushed away from the desk and stepped into the big bullpen area…and stopped. Stared. What the hell?
The last time she’d seen Kyle Mitchell he’d looked worse than something the cat dragged in and smelled like yesterday’s garbage. The man standing at the front of the office was six foot plus of gorgeous, good-looking male, his dark brown hair curling just beneath his Stetson, chocolate eyes watching her with a hint of humor and…what? Something else. But what really got to her was what he was holding—a huge bouquet of flowers and a giant box of what could only be chocolates.
What was going on here?
Something close to emotion stole over her, warping her nerve endings and wriggling into her usually unaffected heart. Stunned and dismayed, she couldn’t tear her eyes from the man grinning at her. Her breath was trapped in her throat and that same usually dependable heart was suddenly beating in triple time. Holy hell. She never reacted to a man like that, even the ones she played her “games” with.
And she certainly didn’t intend to react to Kyle Mitchell. At thirty-two, she’d had more experience with his type than she cared to think about. She knew his type exactly. Hot hands, hard ride, then off in a cloud of dust. Been there, done that, had the scars to prove it. And she wasn’t interested in revisiting the unhappiness. No, Kyle Mitchell should be wearing a big read sign that said “Danger! Keep away!”
Ignoring the unfortunate tingling now invading her nipples and the sudden rush of liquid in her throbbing pussy, she squared her shoulders and strode to where Kyle Mitchell waited expectantly.
The best defense is a good offense.
“Did you comeback to finish off what’s left of poor Charley’s place?” she asked, deliberately belligerent. She needed something to counteract her body’s instant reaction to this man.
He shook his head. “Not at all. I came to offer my humble apologies and try to set things right.”
“Humble, huh?” Damn. Why did he have to look so sexy. “Why am I having a hard time believing you could ever be humble?”
“Only in your presence,” he said solemnly, holding out the flowers and candy. “For you. Peace offerings.” His eyes sparkled with mischief as he added, “It will break my heart if you refuse them.”
Jessie dug her nails into her palms, trying to still the heat rising in her body. An image flashed before her eyes of a naked Kyle Mitchell bound to the bed with her handcuffs, his cock at attention while she teased him unmercifully.
Jessie! Stop that! Your own backyard is no place for the sex games you like to play. Especially with someone like Mr. Macho Bullrider.
Of course, she hadn’t been playing with anyone anywhere for longer than she cared to remember. Pickings in Watson’s Creek were very slim, gossip spread faster than the measles, and trolling in San Antonio or Austin just wasn’t her style. She’d been working hard to convince herself she could live very well without sex in her life. And certainly not the kind that teased at her emotions. All it took was every bit of discipline she could dredge up on a daily basis. Not much fun but at least it kept her safe.
But the erotically tempting idea of playing her particular brand of games with this man had danger written all over it. Most especially with him, since he also seemed to have set her hormones to doing a crazy tap dance.
“Sheriff?”
She realized he was watching her, his hands with the gifts still extended toward her. And that everyone in her office also had their eyes fastened on her.
Damn!
“That’s very nice of you, Mr. Mitchell. I wouldn’t be minding my manners if I didn’t say thank you. Is that all?”
“I’ll find something to put those flowers in.” Inez Pereira, her dispatcher, hurried over and deftly snatched the bouquet from Kyle’s hand. “Sheriff, you should at least give the man five minutes of your time. He got himself all cleaned up and drove down here just to see you.”
Jessie’s skin itched from all the eyes fastened on her.
“Fine. Five minutes in my office. Will that be enough time for your apology?”
Kyle’s grin almost melted her panties. “It’s a start.”
She was acutely aware of him behind her, following her to her office, as if a blanket of testosterone shimmered over him and reached out to her. She was glad the door to her office didn’t have a window in it. At least she’d be safe from everyone’s prying eyes. Not that she wouldn’t be subjected to scrutiny after the fact.
Sitting down in her chair, the desk as a barrier between them, she leaned forward on her elbows.
“Thank you very much for the gifts, Mr. Mitchell,” she began.
“Kyle,” he interrupted, in a voice that sounded like warm honey. “I’d like it if you called me Kyle.” He flashed that killer grin. “It would make it so much easier to apologize.”
“Fine. Kyle. Thank you.”
He handed the box of chocolates to her, but when she reached for them he wrapped his hand over her smaller one and the heat factor rose off the charts.
“I was really hoping you’d let me take you to dinner,” he drawled. “I can apologize much better over good food.”
Dinner? With Mr. Sexy?
“I’m sorry. I don’t think that would be appropriate. But thank you for the invitation.”
“Give me five minutes to change your mind.”
Chapter Two
Jessie had expected him to take her to someplace local. That meant deciding what to wear had her mind twisted into a knot. She didn’t want to go casual, but too dressy and he might get the wrong idea. And what if he decided to take her someplace else, like Highpoint or Crater Lake, where the restaurants were a little more high class? She didn’t want to give him the wrong idea, either. If he thought she was dressing up for him, he’d think he’d won her over, made a good impression, and that most definitely was not the case.
Finally she settled on linen slacks and a sleeveless silk shell with comfortable flats. Instead of leaving her hair loose, she pulled it back with a wide gold clip. More businesslike, she assured herself.
Yeah, right.
A minimum of makeup and she was ready when he rang the bell exactly at seven. If she’d really been interested in him, she would have had a hard time resisting the approval in his eyes when they raked over her, or the heat that blazed in them.
Steady, Jessi
e. It’s just dinner. He’s a player and you don’t need that kind of aggravation.
“If I said you looked good enough to eat, would you slap my face?” he grinned, helping her into his truck.
“Maybe,” she answered, fastening her seat belt.
“Okay. Then I won’t tell you.” Before she had time to react, he traced his fingers along the curve of her jaw. “You sure are beautiful, Sheriff Jessie.”
Then he grinned and closed the door.
She was surprised when they ended up in a small restaurant at the far north end of San Antonio, less than half an hour from Watson’s Creek. It was a place her friends had told her about, but she’d never been there. It more than met the rave reviews she’d heard.
Thick carpeting on the floor muffled footsteps and dark wood formed rich paneling on the walls. The only light in the room came from chandeliers set on dim and candles shimmering on the tables. They were seated in a corner at the curve of the room, by a window that looked out over a pond decorated with patio lights. When she looked across the table at Kyle, that same look simmered in his eyes. The ambience alone was enough to seduce her.
“I thought a first-class lady deserved a first-class place,” he told her.
“Have you come here before?” Brought other women here? She wanted to smack herself for that errant thought. It was none of her business. She didn’t want it to be her business.
But he shook his head. “The wife of one of my buddies told me it was a great place to bring a lady. I just haven’t had one I wanted to do it with before tonight.”
She shifted in her chair. “Listen, Kyle…”He reached across the table and touched her lips with one finger. She was shocked at the heat it generated and the acceleration of her pulse.
“No objections, okay? Let’s enjoy dinner and let me show you I can really be a fine gentleman.”
Oh, god, how will I get through this? I don’t want to feel anything from him but he’s worse than a drug. I never should have agreed to this.
He ordered a bottle of wine, asking her what kind she preferred and checking with the waiter to see what was recommended. When she protested that she didn’t want anything stronger than water, he just grinned at her.
