He stiffened and turned to face her. “If that was true then that would make me one mean mother,” he murmured, leaning so close she could feel the rush of air against her lips.
Lips that were fuller than she’d first thought. Kissable, even, if she’d been the least bit interested.
She wasn’t, she realized as she stared him down. She didn’t catch her breath. Or fight down a rush of heat. Or feel her knees tremble. Nothing. Because as good looking as he was, he wasn’t Tyler McCall.
The sudden truth shook her even more than the fact that she’d just called out the most dangerous man in the county.
“I’m not looking for trouble,” she added. “I just want what’s mine. I made another batch of mash and now it’s missing. Since Kenny Roy is one of the few people who knew about it, I’m banking that he took it and handed it over to you.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Fine, deny it. It doesn’t matter.” She thought about arguing quality control, but at this point, she was too desperate. Beggars couldn’t be choosers and she was this close to dropping to her knees because the last thing she had time to do was come up with another batch of mash. “I don’t care who took it at this point. All that matters is that I get a jar of the finished product.”
He seemed as if he wanted to tell her where to go and how fast to get there, but then he shrugged. “I can get you a jar of shine, sweetheart, but I can’t promise it’s your product. I didn’t touch your mash and I don’t have a clue who did.”
“And I should believe you because of your stellar reputation?”
A slow grin split his face. “If reputations were in play, then you’d be doing a striptease on this pool table right now instead of arguing with me.” He shrugged. “Believe me or don’t believe me. I really don’t give a rat’s ass.” He peeled off a few twenties from the wad Kenny Roy had given him and laid them on the table before signaling the waitress. “Let’s cut out,” he told Ryder. “We’ve got work to do.”
“Wait a second. Where’s Cooper McCall?” she called out, her voice bringing him up short.
His brow furrowed. “What do you want with Cooper?”
“His brother’s looking for him. Kenny Roy said you two were delivering together, so if you’re back, then where’s Coop?”
Gator’s gaze narrowed ever so slightly. “He headed for Austin on business. I was going myself, but I got held up here.”
With her mash.
That was the only reason he was standing here right now. He’d come back for her mash and stuck around because he was going to hand it over to someone to run as his own. It was just one of the dozen theories pushing and pulling at her brain.
“Cooper’s a big boy,” Gator added. “If he wants to talk to his brother, I’m guessing he will. If not, then it’s his business.”
“Who are you working with?” she called after him when he started to walk away. “Who ran my mash the first time?”
“Trust me, you’d rather not know.” With that, he left her staring after him.
She debated following, but Gator Hallsey was the best driver to ever haul shine. As good as his daddy and granddaddy before him had been back in the day.
She might try, but she would never manage to keep up.
Even more, she couldn’t shake the crazy hunch that he was telling the truth.
Yeah, right. He was a criminal and she was no closer to getting a jar of the finished product before her meeting on Friday.
She was so screwed.
Professionally and personally.
The truth dogged her as she walked out of the run-down bar and climbed back into her car. Because there was no more denying that despite her best efforts, she’d done the unthinkable—she’d fallen head over heels for Tyler McCall.
CHAPTER 23
“He’s in Austin,” Brandy told Tyler when he picked up his phone later that evening. She’d thought about stopping by to tell him in person, but after her recent realization, she’d decided that distance was better.
Safe.
“Who?”
“Cooper.”
“How do you know?”
“I saw Gator Hallsey. He’s back, so I asked where your brother was.”
“And you think he told you the truth?”
“I don’t see a reason for him to lie. Not about that anyway.”
“What do you mean?”
She wasn’t going to tell him. That’s what she told herself, but the hopelessness inside of her welled up and suddenly, the words tumbled out. “My mash is missing. Someone took it and I’m laying my money on Kenny Roy, or Ryder Jax or Gator Hallsey, or all three. At the very least, they know who has it and what’s going on.”
“Where are you at?”
“The bakery?”
“I’ll be there in a few minutes.”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea—” she started, but it was too late. The dial tone echoed in her ear and Brandy had all of fifteen minutes to gather her courage and prepare herself for a visit from the last man she wanted to see at the moment.
Why did everything have to be so complicated all of a sudden?
* * *
“There’s no sign of breaking and entering here,” Tyler said as he examined the small back door that led into an alley behind the building and then walked back to the small closet behind the oven. “This pantry door wasn’t locked?”
“Why would I lock it? It’s not like someone’s going to break in to steal flour or sugar, and that’s all that I keep back there.”
“Ellie knew it was here?”
“Ellie’s so preoccupied right now, I seriously doubt she knows her last name anymore. She’s really into your buddy, Duff.”
“I think the feeling is mutual.”
“Uh, oh.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“That Ellie doesn’t like being hooked on anyone. She likes playing the field.”
“Duff’s pretty much the same.”
“Which is why Ellie’s determined to break things off and stay away from him.”
“Sounds like a good plan.”
It was, which was exactly why Brandy was following Ellie’s lead. Except Ellie didn’t have Duff barging over to check her back door and fog her common sense.
“The back door had to be unlocked at some point,” Tyler said. “Unless you think someone came in through the front door. Was it unlocked last night?”
“Of course not. I never leave it unlocked.”
She thought about how she’d rushed in at the last minute that morning because she’d let Tyler McCall distract her last night. And every night before then.
“Maybe I left it unlocked. I mean, I had to have, right? Otherwise there would be some evidence of an actual break-in.”
“Unless it’s a really experienced thief.”
“In Rebel? We haven’t had any sort of break-in around here since the Rebel Softball Team went on a scavenger hunt and dared each other to steal two rolls of toilet paper from the Mercantile. Even then, they didn’t actually break in. One just distracted the clerk while another girl snuck the toilet paper past him under her shirt. It’s not like there’s a big crime wave around here.”
“And you sure as hell can’t call the sheriff.”
“No.”
He nailed her with a gaze. “You can’t go chasing after Gator Hallsey and his crew. I don’t care if they did have something to do with taking the mash.”
“They did,” she said, more to convince herself than him. Because ever since she’d left the bar, she hadn’t been able to shake the voice telling her that while Gator wasn’t the most upstanding guy, he’d been telling the truth.
Which meant something else was going on.
“Leave it alone and make another batch,” Tyler told her.
She shook her head. “I don’t have time. Speaking of which, I need to get home. Thanks for stopping by, but I promised Jenna we would hang out tonight.”
> “What about later?”
She ignored the rush of excitement. “I’m committed for the long haul. Maybe we can get together tomorrow.” Even as she said the words, she knew she wasn’t going to call him. Or drive over.
Distance.
“Listen—”
“I really have to go.”
He looked as if he wanted to say something, but then his phone blinked and he shook his head. “Fine, but you’re sure you’re going home? No more poking around?”
“Scout’s honor.” She crossed her heart and watched as he turned and walked away.
* * *
“He called,” his mother told him when he walked into the trailer a few minutes later. “Told me he was fine and he’d try to stop by sometime soon. I told him I needed him here now, but that boy doesn’t listen. Why, you just wait until your father gets home…” Tyler’s mother went off on a rant about how things were going to change and shape up before she ended the tirade with a long swig of her coffee.
“Where’s he at?”
“He didn’t say.”
“Did you ask him?”
“’Course, I did,” the woman said, her words slightly slurred. Then again, it was after sundown. Well past happy hour. And to say Ellen McCall was happy by now was an understatement. “Say, when are you going to pick up that mess out front?”
“I should be done by tomorrow,” he told her, particularly since he wasn’t doing much else tonight.
He thought of Brandy and her reluctance earlier, and his gut tightened. She was scared.
He didn’t blame her. Last night hadn’t gone exactly as he’d planned. Things had started off good enough. Fast. As planned. But then she’d sighed and he’d found himself slowing down, and then they’d both been so tired that falling asleep had seemed like the right thing.
Until the neighbor had called to tell him his mother was singing at the top of her lungs and she was going to call the police if Tyler didn’t put a stop to it. He’d gone by the house, poured his mother into bed, and then headed back to the rodeo arena only to find that Brandy had left.
So? Good riddance. That’s what Tyler told himself, but damned if he hadn’t actually liked falling asleep with her. Enough that he’d had one hell of a practice session that morning. He’d been focused. On point.
“You keep riding like that,” Jack had told him, “and you’ll give those cowboys a run for their money in Cheyenne.”
Yep, he’d done good, and all because he’d gotten some much-needed sleep. Some peace. The most he’d felt in a long time.
Unfortunately, Brandy hadn’t had a similar day. Her mash was missing, she was rattled, and now she was scared.
Of him.
Of them.
The urge to hop into his truck and haul ass over to her place hit him hard and fast, but Tyler wasn’t about to go there. Sure, he’d had a good day. But maybe it hadn’t been because of Brandy. Because he’d had some decent sleep.
Maybe he was just pushing himself.
His mind made up, he spent the next few hours clearing away the leftover wood and nailing up a few of the last pieces, until the porch stood strong and tall. He jumped to test the weight and satisfaction rolled through him.
Short-lived when he headed back to the empty apartment and the soft sheets that still smelled like Brandy Tucker.
CHAPTER 24
“Maybe I’m not interested in talking to you.” Brandy tried to sound nonchalant as she fed a lemon tart into a pink bakery box early Wednesday morning, but it was next to impossible when she caught a whiff of his scent.
The enticing aroma of leather and male and that unnameable something that made her think of soft cotton sheets and the moonlight peeking past the blinds of the small apartment … Forget it. Forget him.
Forget.
She tried for a steadying breath. “Look, I thought we got this straight last night—I don’t think it’s a good idea for us to continue to get together.” She added the last word on a whisper, eyeing the four women sitting at a nearby table, nursing coffee and slices of her cranberry walnut bread, their gazes hooked on Tyler. “I think we should call it quits.”
“Really?”
“Really.”
“You know what I think? I think,” he said, stepping toward her, “you’re pushing me away on purpose because you’re scared.”
“There goes that word again.” She gathered her courage and focused every last ounce on holding her ground. Last night she’d given herself every reason why she needed to cut all ties, namely the sex was starting to interfere with her daily life.
Her business.
She was thinking about him too much when she should be focusing on work. That, and she was falling for him.
Really and truly falling to the point that she saw his face when she closed her eyes instead of visions of specialty cakes and pies.
“Walking away doesn’t mean I’m scared,” she heard herself say. “It means I’ve got other things on my plate. Things that are a lot more important than sex.”
“All the more reason to see this through now.” He stared at her, his eyes bright and mesmerizing. His lips hinted at the faintest of grins and his gaze dropped, peeling away her clothes and caressing every bare inch. “I’ll be gone soon enough. We might as well make the most of the time we have left. Then you can get to all of those other things on your plate without any distractions.”
Her skin tingled and her heart stalled.
Bad heart.
She tried for a disinterested shrug. “I’m not distracted now. I know you hate to hear this, but I’m just not that interested anymore.”
“You don’t have to be afraid.”
“For the last time, I’m not afraid of you.”
“Not me, sugar.” He leaned over the counter, his hand brushing hers as he reached for the bakery box. “Us.” The word trembled in the air between them, his fingers soft and warm against hers.
She swallowed and managed to pull away and shift her attention to the cash register. “There is no us.”
“We’re good together.”
“We were good together. I was horny. You were horny. I’m no longer horny. So that’s the end of it. Look, if you’re looking for more, that’s great. I’m sure you can find any number of girls ready and willing to spend time with you—”
“I’m not talking about spending time. I’m talking about burning up some energy. Some lust. I’m not looking for a relationship.” He ran a hand over his face, and she noted the weariness around his eyes. Something tugged at her heart. “I’m looking for my brother and I’m having shitty luck finding him. The wait,” he ran a hand through his hair, “the wait is killing me. I need a distraction, Brandy. I need you.”
“So I’m a distraction to you? That’s it?” The notion sent a rush of regret through her, followed by a wave of relief. Because that’s all she wanted to be when it came to Tyler McCall.
At least that’s what she was desperately telling herself.
“You help me work out my frustration, which helps me focus. And sleep. I know it sounds crazy, but you don’t know how worked up I’ve been. I haven’t slept a solid three hours in weeks.” He ran a hand over his face and she noted the weary light in his eyes. “I’m stuck here for the next few days and while I am, I need to train or I can kiss my next rodeo good-bye.” He shook his head. “I have to hold it together. That means I need a distraction from worrying about Cooper every damn night.” His gaze locked with hers. “You were sleeping pretty soundly, too, when I ducked out.”
“About that,” she started. “You could have left a note or something.”
“Worried about me?”
“Afraid that I was going to have to find a replacement after I’ve put so much time and effort into training you for the job.”
He grinned, the expression slow and wicked, and her heart gave a double thump. “Good to hear that I’m not so easily replaced.”
“I didn’t say that. I just said I don’t want to have to t
rain.” Another grin and her chest tightened. “Listen, why are we doing this? If you just need to hook up, so be it.” She motioned to the table of women. “Take your pick.”
“Sure thing.” He took her arm and joined her behind the counter.
“What are you doing—” she started, the words drowning in the lump in her throat as he hauled her up against him.
“I pick you.”
She stared up at him, wishing he wasn’t so tall, so handsome, so … close. “I’m not ripe for picking.”
His eyes darkened and she realized she’d said the wrong thing … or the right thing depending on the part of her doing the thinking. From the heat pooling between her legs, she’d bet money it wasn’t her head.
“I’d say you’re plenty ripe, sugar.” His thumb grazed the side of her breast, and her nipple throbbed to awareness. “Ripe and juicy, and damn near ready to burst.”
“That’s not what I meant.” She fought for an extra breath to send a much-needed jolt of oxygen to her brain. “From what I’ve seen, there are plenty of women in this town who wouldn’t mind being your distraction.”
“That’s where you’re wrong. The women in this town don’t give a lick about distracting me. They’d rather wife me up, and I’m not here for that. This is a small town, sugar. The local girls aren’t thinking about having a good time. They’re more worried about what time you’re going to call them tomorrow. And whether or not you’re going to ask them to the church picnic. And when you’re going to order the ring and pick out the crystal.” He shook his head. “To hell with that. I’m more a red Solo cup kind of guy. Always have been. Always will be.”
“I’m sure there’s a nice girl—”
“I don’t want a nice girl. I want you, Brandy. And you want me. For now. That’s why this works. We both know what’s going to happen and what isn’t.”
And that was the problem in a nutshell. She knew. She just wasn’t so sure she liked that truth so much anymore.
The notion struck and she stiffened. The last thing she wanted was a relationship, even if she was falling for him a little. All the more reason to say good-bye, which she would most definitely do.
Red-Hot Texas Nights Page 14
