Gunslinger

by Angi Morgan

  “I didn’t say work. I was suspended, remember?”

  “How could I forget since I was the reason?”

  “I need some research. I’m not working for anyone but you. So what else is on your bucket list? Not seeing the world. You’ve done that several times.”

  “Having a dog, for one.”

  “That’s cool.”

  “Really? Most people would think it’s too simple.”

  “Who said simple things couldn’t make a bucket list?” Bryce’s arm was along the back of the couch and touched her. “I’d like a reason to take a day off and lay around that pool. Maybe meet my neighbors. Have a barbecue. Is getting to a lake picnic on your top ten?”

  She forced herself not to react to the simple brush of his finger along her shirt. Everything about the evening had been casual. She wanted to keep it that way. But her insides were doing that flutter thing again. Or maybe they’d never stopped.

  “I guess it should be. Mine is really silly. Let’s change the subject. I’ll watch a movie if you watch it, too.”

  He grabbed her hand as she reached for the remote.

  Maybe they shouldn’t be relaxing at all. It was all quite possible everything was about to go to hell in a handbasket or in a 1964 fully restored shiny black Cadillac convertible.

  “This thing’s crazy. Trust me with the remote?”

  “We aren’t watching football, right?”

  “Not this time of year. What do you like? Suspense, drama, comedy—”

  He was looking at the cable guide. “I don’t think I could take The Fugitive or anything like that. And I’m not too sure comedy would work.”

  “King Kong?” He looked at her and moved on to the next one. “Classic John Wayne. You’ve got to like John Wayne?”

  “All right.”

  “You don’t sound very enthusiastic.”

  “I just saw this one three weeks ago.”

  “Then we keep flipping.”

  “No, Bryce, it’s okay. Really. Oh wait, go back.” She flipped her fingers until he returned to the right channel. “Is that Fred Astaire? Would you mind if we watched that? I’ve been on an old movie kick. I was going to set my DVR but—”

  “But everything in your house was shredded. I remember.”

  He leaned back against the couch. “Want popcorn or soda? Maybe a beer?”

  “I’m good, thanks.”

  Bryce leaned his head back on the cushion. Kylie expected him to be snoring before the first dance number. But she didn’t mind. Sitting here like two normal adults was ridiculously soothing. And exactly what she needed.

  She loved the idea of normal.

  That was on her bucket list, too.

  It wasn’t long and The End rolled across the screen. Bryce had slept through the entire movie. She wanted to turn off the TV and tried but pushed the wrong button in the dark. A DVD began playing and before she could click it off a THX sound check played at practically the loudest level available.

  * * *

  BRYCE SHOT OFF the couch, eyes wide open, realizing exactly what had happened. “Middle top turns everything off.”

  Kylie pushed the remote but handed it off to him. It took him a second or two. Whatever she’d attempted in the dark had switched a different electronic device on instead of cutting everything off.

  “I didn’t mean to wake you up, but I had no idea a remote could be so complicated.”

  “Universal remote.” He wiped the sleep from his eyes. “Did you enjoy the movie? Sorry I sort of passed out. Guess our swim had me more tired than I realized. Did I snore?”

  She shook her head and yawned. “You didn’t, but I might if I stay up any later. And yes, the movie was great. Fred and Ginger—what’s not to love?”

  “All the dancing?”

  “You don’t like to dance? That’s another thing on my list. I want to learn how to waltz properly.”

  “All right.” He began clicking through the music stored in his system. “I’m sure I put something that had a three-quarter time beat... Mom’s playlist. That’s it.”

  He scrolled through and found the perfect song, put it on Repeat and opened his arms.

  “What’s this?” She looked baffled.

  “‘Waltz Across Texas.’ That’s how you waltz with boots on.”

  “We’re both barefoot, Bryce.” Her hands were on her hips, the flowy shirt that hid her skin pushed behind them. Skinny jeans hugged her long legs and the dark T-shirt clung to her, outlining perfect-sized breasts and waistline.

  “Perfect.” In more way than one. He set a hand on her hip and held his palm open for her to drop hers onto. “Barefoot is how I learned.”

  “What do I do?”

  “Follow my lead. My granddad told me to keep the lady’s foot between mine and hold her close. Do you mind?” He didn’t wait for permission, the song played again and he tugged her to fit against him. “Now don’t get any ideas about throwing me to the floor.”

  Kylie laughed for the first time since the pool. She might be tall, but she was really a tiny thing.

  Kylie tried to drop her chin and look at their feet.

  “Chin up and trust me, darlin’. I know where I’m going.”

  He led her around to the back of the couch, keeping them in a tight square. He counted off the three beats in his head. She let him lead completely as if she’d never attempted a waltz before. Had she?

  Maybe she had and he’d misinterpreted? “I like these words.”

  “My grandparents danced to this at least once a week when I was young.” One, two, three. One, two, three. He needed to keep this right and not mess up. “If it wasn’t the first song they danced to, it was the last one. They even played it at their funerals.”

  “It’s nice that you have that to remember, but it’s a little sad.”

  “Dancing made them happy. They passed it on to all of us.” His fingers flexed across her back, anxious to get her even closer.

  She tipped her head back and stopped moving her feet. “Wait a second, you just said that the thing wrong with the movie was all the dancing.”

  “Watching other people dance isn’t the same as holding a woman in your arms.” He secured his arm tighter around her, curled her fingers within his.

  She rested her head on his shoulder, her warm breath was calm and regular across his skin. Lucky she couldn’t feel his, which was getting more excited with each step. He pulled her closer still and gently nudged his knee between hers to keep them locked together in the waltz box.

  Dancing together was close and intimate behind his couch and he felt the heat. He wanted to kiss Kylie, but the repeating voice of Tex Ritter was beginning to wear a little on the mood. Instead, he twirled them close to the amplifier and selected Random.

  Mistake. The beat changed to something from the ’70s.

  “That was lovely, but this...” Her hands went to his shoulders, not pushing, just ready to be released. “I can dance to on my own.”

  Bryce went to the next song and wrapped her hand back in his, admiring the strength he felt in the slender aikido-filled defense weapons. He hugged her, swaying to the soft band music from the ’40s. Kept her close to him through the next ’60s song with a faster tempo. Then encouraged her head to rest on his shoulder when Frankie Valli sang “You’re just too good to be true.”

  “You sing pretty good.”

  “I didn’t realize I was.” He didn’t sing for anyone. It gave him a weird feeling. He hadn’t even played drums in high school because he didn’t like to perform.

  Barefoot. Three feet of carpet either direction. Hand in hand. This time when he kissed her it was different. The edge of not knowing what he wanted was gone. He knew exactly.

  Kylie.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Daniel Rosco was on his back in coveralls wheeling himself under a 1976 Trans Am. He was restoring it himself. The tediousness of working and cleaning every part on the engine was the only thing that calmed him.

 
As a child, his mother would send him out here when she saw him overly anxious. The garage had been immaculately clean and he’d yearned to get grease on his hands. Paco Valdez had been their driver back then. He’d taught him a lot about engines, but most of Daniel’s knowledge came from research and intuition.

  Paco was gone now. He’d been gone many more years than his mother or father, who had both been murdered in the past six months. Murdered! Taken out. Gotten out of the way.

  It wasn’t something he hadn’t thought about doing himself...especially with his father. He didn’t like that the decision had been taken out of his hands. He knew the man responsible. He’d once called him his close friend in spite of the rivalries and competition between their families.

  Xander would suffer for standing by and letting his father execute his sweet momma. But he’d slit the throat of the bastard himself for ordering the assassin who left his father to rot in the desert.

  Xander’s days were numbered. And now that he knew where the flash drive was located... It was just a matter of time before all his plans became reality.

  “Boss?”

  Daniel set his wrench on his chest and rolled the creeper from under the car, wiping his hands on an oily rag that put more dirt on them than took off. He carefully placed the wrench among the other well-used tools. All arranged precisely in the order he expected to use them.

  Lennon waited. He knew not to ask mundane questions like what Daniel was doing. Otherwise the wrench might land against his head instead of being replaced on the towel.

  “Do you have him?” He stood, hopping to his feet, feeling like a teenager instead of someone approaching thirty.

  “Yes, sir, but Xander Tenoreno is here to see you.”

  “Interesting. I didn’t expect him until I had the package. How close are we to that detail?”

  “The model’s house is being watched. The local authorities don’t know we’re already in place.”

  “Excellent. Send in Xander. I’m excited to hear what he has to say to me.” His back was to the door when Xander entered, but he could see his rival in the small mirror above the sink.

  “I guess you know why I’m here. The man you had spying on me said your hired thugs put on quite a show. What the hell were you thinking?”

  “The package will be in my possession within twenty-four hours.” Daniel dried his hands and shrugged out of his coveralls, tying the arms around his waist. “Then our deal is off.”

  “You hired men behind my back to take care of our problem. I thought we had a partnership.”

  “You should have told me your ex had the drive. Trust runs both ways...friend.”

  “What even makes you think the drive is still in the Cadillac? Or that you beat me to it? Do you think I would have left it with Sissy all these years?”

  “You don’t have it.” He took the other man’s measure, gauging how far to push him. “Just as I knew you did then...you don’t have it now.”

  “What about the partnership between the families? Are we going back to square one, fighting for the scraps that the Mexican cartel will leave?”

  They moved around each other, opposite points on a circle they were walking.

  “My father was an old man, willing to go into business with yours, and look what it got him. Dead. I’m not old and I’m no longer willing to step aside. I think we both know why.”

  “Sissy doesn’t have any idea what’s hidden in the car. If she had the information she would have used it long before now or thrown it in my face yesterday.”

  Daniel had control over his body. He didn’t act concerned at all.

  “I wondered if you’d seen her. I suppose you made arrangements with the authorities.” Daniel dropped his hand on Xander’s shoulder, stopping their dance around each other. “It amazes me you believe that in all these years she never looked at the drive.”

  “You aren’t going to kill her until we know for certain.” Xander knocked Daniel’s hands aside.

  “Of course I am.” He moved to the wall of screwdrivers and files, but didn’t expect to use them. This was his garage with his men stationed all around.

  “I should have killed you years ago, Daniel. But we were friends. I thought we had a plan to take everything from our fathers. Telling you of the missing Cadillac was a big mistake on my part. But it’s been your impatience that led prosecutors to my ex-wife. It was your impatience that has involved the authorities and made the entire situation more important. I doubt they’ll walk away anytime soon.”

  “You aren’t claiming any responsibility for not finding her during the past five years? If you’d handled this correctly to begin with—”

  “No one could have known it was Sissy who stole the car.” Xander said matter-of-factly. “I’ll deal with it. Back away, Daniel, before you destroy everything we’ve worked for.”

  Xander turned to leave.

  Daniel’s hand closed around the handle of a screwdriver. It could have been thrown like a knife. But...he wanted Xander alive to witness the Tenoreno empire fall. Old-fashioned, yes. What could he say? He enjoyed theatrics. Maybe he’d seen The Godfather too many times.

  “You go through with your plans in Hico,” Xander said at the door, “and we’ll have to take extreme measures.”

  “Are you threatening me?”

  The death in Xander’s look might have frightened him when he was younger. Daniel knew the look well. He practiced it. He lived it.

  Tenoreno sauntered away, thinking he had the upper hand. Seconds later, Daniel’s right-hand man—everyone in this business had one—stood in the open doorway ready for the next order. Daniel gestured to send the man in.

  “Let’s get this over with, Lennon.”

  The man who had lost track of Xander’s ex-wife was thrown through the garage door and left alone with Daniel. Feeling like a man with power, he sat on the workbench stool and retrieved a pistol. He spun, then opened the chamber very dramatically.

  “I’ve got to let people know what happens to men who don’t follow my orders.”

  “I’m sorry, Mr. Rosco, but I didn’t know he was going to take her off the bus.”

  “I. Don’t. Care.” He dropped a bullet from a chamber for emphasis of each word. Then two more. The theatrics was just that. Fun. Nobody was there to witness the murder. It was just drama and made him feel like the boss. He’d seen his father go through this ritual at least half a dozen times before he was fifteen.

  With one bullet remaining, Daniel handed him the pistol.

  “This is simple. Pull the trigger on yourself and we’re even. Pull it on me and every person you love dies.”

  The explosion was expected. It was the man’s only choice after all was said and done. Lennon came through the door, a moment of wonder wiped from his face as soon as it appeared.

  “Sorry about the mess, Lennon. We should have used the drop cloth. Get the body disposed of and send five hundred to his family.”

  Daniel was tempted again to take care of Sissy himself. He’d only met her a couple of times while she’d been married to Xander. But there was too much heat near her at the moment to make that possible. The men he’d hired couldn’t be traced back to him. It was better to stay clear and let them handle it.

  They had nothing to lose and soon the little town of Hico would look like a war-trodden wreck. “Who knows? Maybe Xander will want to intervene and get stuck in the middle of it. One can always hope.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Perfectly shaped lips, effortlessly pink without artificial color. Eyes a beautiful shade of blue with a little definition. Blue? Great detective skills. She’d been wearing dark-colored contacts until today. Bryce left Kylie’s lips, skimming her cheek then her jawline to whisper in her ear as he passed it.

  “You ready to head upstairs?”

  “Why, Mr. Johnson, are you asking me what I think you’re asking me?” She skimmed his lips, then sucked his bottom lip between her teeth. “Never going to happen.”

&
nbsp; He would have believed her if she’d pulled away. Or maybe even if she’d said the “never” with a bounce in her voice. But she hadn’t. Her voice was full of sadness—not fright like that afternoon—just sadness and regret.

  “I’ve been afraid to tell you,” he whispered, searching her eyes and seeing the hunger he felt. “I think—”

  He couldn’t blink, connected as he was to her emotional pain.

  “Don’t think that you know me, Bryce. If you’ve been searching for Sissy Jorgenson... Well, she died five years ago. I told you that. I have the scars to prove it. I’m not afraid of them, but I don’t share that part of me with anyone. They remind me every day that I was given a second chance. Those shots took away a career, security, my friends. But they gave me a family in Hico that I couldn’t fully appreciate until this week. For that I’ll always be grateful to you.”

  She turned to leave, slowly. Hesitating. Letting him keep her fingers secured inside his hand.

  “Let me ask you a simple question.”

  “What?”

  “Do you want to go upstairs with me?”

  “There’s nothing simple about that question.” Her chin dropped to her chest, her free hand covered her eyes.

  “Sure there is. I know my answer. And I think I know yours.” He pulled her back to him and devoured her mouth. She allowed him access to the curve of her neck, the soft skin across her collarbone.

  Answering his invitation without words. Her hands were on his hips bringing him closer and harder against her. Their bodies rocked against each other when Deep Purple’s “Smoke on the Water” shot through the speakers. Her tongue danced inside his mouth, darting, demanding.

  She was in charge of their fate. And he kept his hands above his head to prove it to her. He told himself he could walk away if she changed her mind. But he sure as hell didn’t want to.

  She pushed at his T-shirt. Since his hands were in the air, practically above his head, he reached to his shoulders and pulled it free. Her mouth left his, pressing against his chest. Teasing with a mixture of a lick with the tip of her tongue and a playful bite. She worked her way down, her short nails scraping lightly until they reached the top of his zipper, then outlined his erection underneath.