Table of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
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Lone Star Burn: Lost Soul
Sandy Sullivan
Erotic Romance
Chapter One
Brock Callahan shielded his eyes from the glare of the sun as he stepped off the beat up Greyhound in the middle of Bard, Texas.
Home.
It sure didn’t feel like it though.
A hot breeze blew the dirt on the street in ribbons across the pavement as he made his way toward the only place in town to eat. Twelve hours on the bus without much food, made him cranky. The trip from Florida wasn’t one he wanted to repeat anytime soon, but he was glad to be out of there.
The last fifteen years in federal prison for a murder he didn’t commit, had hardened him into the man he was today, someone you didn’t want to cross.
His nickname…Renegade.
He’d earned it in the pen for not backing down when push came to shove. He’d been brought up to believe in right and wrong by his momma. Even though he’d been sent to that hellhole in a case of mistaken identity, he still believed in those base principles. If someone weaker got the shit end of the deal, he stood up for them, even in there.
The window in front of Red’s Diner threw back his reflection in startling contrast to the man he’d been before. Hair hung to his collar in thick, dark waves. Scruff covered his face, obscuring his cheeks and jaw in a heavy coating. The white t-shirt he wore covered his upper body, molding to the muscles he’d gained in prison from the daily weight lifting he’d done to prevent getting used for a bitch. His jeans were stuffed inside worn boots, the only thing he’d managed to save for while he’d been there. The moment they’d sprung him, he’d found the first place in town to buy normal clothes before jumping on the bus back to Texas.
He had an agenda.
Revenge burned in his gut.
He would find the man who’d framed him. It was a matter of time.
The door jingled when he pushed it open and entered. The place hadn’t changed much. A long bar ran the length of the room to his left while several booths lined the wall to his right. An empty one near the back caught his attention. Perfect.
The room went silent as he made his way toward the rear. He could feel the stares of those he passed, watching him, trying to figure out who he was and why he was there. It didn’t matter. None of them mattered, only finding the man who’d framed him mattered now.
When he slid into the seat with his back to the wall so he could see the door, he caught the gazes of several of the patrons in the room. They quickly went back to their meal. The air in the room felt thick and sticky. Tension bubbled under the surface as the waitress approached his table with a pot of coffee in her hands.
“What can I get you to drink?”
He glanced up and caught her look. She was a pretty thing, blonde with big blue eyes, and a nice figure. He didn’t recognize her from his past. “A Coke would taste real good right about now.”
“Coming right up. Menu is there by the wall. Take your time.”
He watched her walk back behind the counter, slide the coffee pot on the burner, and then head to the other end. Even though she wore the typical waitress attire with a knee-length skirt, an apron around her waist, and a non-flattering white blouse, he could tell she had a nice body under those clothes. I’ve been without a woman way too long. Hell, fifteen years is too fucking long. His hand had become his best friend in there, saving him from resorting to what the others did on a regular basis.
His priorities were food and a place to stay. Then he could worry about finding a nice warm, wet pussy to cure his case of blue balls. The local bar would be a good place to start. Maybe she’ll be there.
As he pulled his gaze away from the waitress, he grabbed the menu to see what he could afford. He didn’t have a lot of money, just a few dollars really, but he had enough to get something to eat and a place to stay for a day or two. He would figure out things from there.
A big thick juicy burger had his mouth watering. It had been so long since he’d had real meat, he wasn’t sure his stomach could handle it, but he was willing to give it a shot.
The pretty little blonde returned to stand at the edge of his table after she slipped the glass of Coke in front of him. “Did you decide?”
“Yeah. The bacon cheeseburger please, no onion, no tomato.”
“Coming right up.” She turned to leave again, but spun back around for a moment as she tapped the end of the pen against her lips. A frown played at the corners of her lips, drawing them down in a curve. “Do I know you from somewhere? You look familiar.”
He cleared his throat, trying to make his voice a little more gruff. He didn’t need anyone recognizing him the moment he hit town. He had too much to do. “No, I don’t think so.”
She shrugged. “Okay. I’ll get your food out as soon as they get it cooked.”
“Thank you.” He blew out a breath. Crisis averted for now.
The door jingled as someone walked in, dragging his gaze to the door. Holy shit! It can’t be, but it is. Libby.
She walked in, waving at the older woman behind the counter. “Hey, Red.”
“Libby girl, you are a sight.”
He agreed although he didn’t think Red saw her the same way he did. Dark hair pulled back in a ponytail that hung to her waist showed off her slim neck, high cheekbones, and pretty blush. When she pushed the sunglasses she wore up on her forehead, he caught a glimpse of her gorgeous blue eyes, the ones the wished he could forget. Her clothes were nondescript for this area in a way that fit right in. She wore a white tank top under a checkered blouse open to the waist but tucked into her form fitting jeans. Everything was topped off by the worn boots on her feet.
God, he’d missed her.
“I’ve been working.” Libby glanced down at her clothes, brushing at a patch of mud stuck to her thigh. “Davis’s place is calving this morning.”
“You work too hard, honey.”
“Well as one of the only vets in the area, I have to, Red.”
“I know.” Red shooed at her with her hand as Libby leaned in and kissed the old woman on the cheek. “Find you a chair, and I’ll get you a Coke.”
Libby turned in his direction. He looked down at the table and pulled his cowboy hat lower on his forehead so she wouldn’t recognize him. The last person he wanted to run into was his ex-best friend’s little sister, the one who had given him her virginity at the tender age of sixteen.
They only ever made love one time, but it had turned his world upside down. She’d been so sweet and giving, he couldn’t help the feelings she’d stirred. When he’d been arrested and sent to jail, she’d stood outside the bus with tears rolling down her cheeks as they pulled away from the curb headed for Florida.
He hadn’t been able to get that scene out of his head the entire time he’d been gone.
The day he’d gone to prison was the last time he’d seen her, fifteen years ago.
Now, here she was, gorgeous, willowy, and som
ething out of his wet dream.
He hadn’t been able to keep up on what she’d been doing, but he wasn’t the least bit surprised to hear she’d become a veterinarian. She loved animals of all sizes, even as a kid.
She took a seat at one of the tables in the middle of the room, waving at several people in the diner she apparently knew. Her profile faced him, giving him a nice view as long as she didn’t recognize him. That would be a disaster he didn’t need right now.
Her voice floated to him as she chatted with someone at the next table about their Shih Tzu. He let the melodic tones wash over him, closing his eyes to savor the sound.
A moment later, the waitress put his plate on the table in front of him, drawing his attention back to her. “Can I get you anything else?”
“No thank you.”
“Are you sure I don’t know you from somewhere? I could swear I do. Are you from here?”
“No.”
“Huh. I’ll think of it eventually, I’m sure.” She smiled as she refilled his Coke from the pitcher in her hand. “Enjoy your meal.”
He nodded before she walked away. The moment she moved from his line of sight, his gaze connected with Libby’s startled blue one.
Libby’s heart stopped as she slowly climbed to her feet. It can’t be. Her breath sped up, rasping through her lips in a hard pant as she tried to focus on the face she’d never forget, one who she hadn’t seen in a very long time. He’d changed—more rugged, darker hair, more bulk, bigger arms, wider chest. God, he looks good. The scruff covering his jaw made her shiver. He was so young when he went away, he hadn’t truly come into his own yet, but here he sat all male. “Brock?” she whispered as she moved toward him. “Brock Callahan?”
“Hi, Libby.”
“Oh my God! It is you!” She sank down on the booth opposite him.
She followed his gaze as he glanced around them. He had to be uncomfortable here. When his dark eyes settled on her again, her world tilted, and the air sizzled. It was the same as it had been before. She couldn’t deny what lay beneath the surface when they were in the same room. They’d been explosive together even if it had only been for a short time. “How are you?”
“I’m here. That’s about it.”
“Wow. I didn’t know you’d gotten out.”
“Yeah, a few days ago.”
“Libby, should I bring your plate over here?” the waitress asked a moment later when she stopped at the edge of the table.
She glanced at Brock and said, “I don’t want to intrude.”
“It’s fine. After all, we are old friends.”
“Yeah, old friends.”
The waitress returned within seconds with her food, sliding in onto the table in front of her before giving her a questioning look. “That’s good, Amy. Thank you.”
“All right then.”
After she put some ketchup on her burger and a little on the plate for her fries, she took a healthy bite before looking at Brock again. He hadn’t moved, hadn’t eaten, and still stared at her. “What? Do I have something on my face?”
“No, why?”
“You’re staring.”
“Sorry. You haven’t changed at all, Libby.”
“You have,” she said, scooping up some ketchup for her fries. “You look different, harder I guess.” Still gorgeous.
“I am. I’m not the same kid who left here at twenty headed for federal prison.”
She swallowed hard, wishing she knew what to say to him. She’d known then just as she knew now, there was no way in hell the Brock she had grown up with could hurt anyone, much less kill someone. “I’m sorry.”
“There is nothing for you to be sorry about, Libby.”
“I still am. You basically lost your entire young adulthood in there, all because the state said you were responsible for taking a life.”
“It is what it is.”
“What are you doing back in Bard?”
“It’s home.”
That wasn’t all. Something in his gaze told her he was looking for closure. “You are going to try to find the real killer, aren’t you?”
“Maybe.”
“Don’t do it, Brock. Let it go. It’s over. You have your life back. You can start again and rebuild. You get a redo.”
His eyes hardened into something sharp and cutting. “I can’t forget, Libby. I can’t move on. Someone framed me for a murder they committed, making my life hell while they continued to live here as if it didn’t matter. Well it did matter. I mattered, and I want it known I did not kill that woman. I want my name cleared.”
Hurt reflected in his gaze when he looked at her. Wrongly accused, someone had ruined his whole life. She wished she could help him fix this.
She pushed her plate away, no longer hungry.
“You should eat.”
“You too. I imagine you haven’t had decent food in a long time.”
“Not really, no.”
“Where are you staying?” she asked, brushing the crumbs from her fingers.
“I don’t know yet, probably at the motel in town until I find work.”
“Are you going to look for something at the local ranches?”
He shrugged one shoulder before sipping his drink. “Once a cowboy, always a cowboy. Even if I haven’t been on horseback in a long time, it’s still in the blood.”
“I imagine so.”
Silence stretched between for several minutes while she tried to gather her thoughts. Life had been difficult for her, too, when he went away. Her brother had been his best friend and after Brock left, her brother changed. He started getting into trouble himself, arrested for petty theft, brought up on assault charges, and general drug use. Today, he lived from day to day for his heroin, always asking her for money when he ran out, and causing trouble for her when she didn’t give it to him. Her parents still lived in the area on a small place outside town, and she helped them as much as they would allow. She’d gone off to college as soon as she graduated high school, getting her degree in veterinary medicine before buying into a clinic here. Her partner had retired last year.
The waitress brought both of their tickets to the table, sliding them onto the top. Libby grabbed both. “I got it.”
“You aren’t going to buy my food, Libby.”
“Don’t worry about it, Brock. I said I got it. It’s the least I can do.”
“The least you can do?”
“Yeah, I mean I know you are probably not in a good place right now. I can help.” She sighed heavily as she contemplated the thoughts going through her brain. She shouldn’t do it, shouldn’t say it, but she was going to anyway. “I have an extra bedroom at my place. You can stay with me.”
“No.”
“No? Why not?”
He leaned toward her bringing his scent with him, something spicy and all male. Her heart hammered in her chest. Her palms felt damp and sticky as she wiped them on the thighs of her jeans. She wanted to touch him more than she required her next breath. Her fingers curled into fists to keep from reaching out to him.
The dark chocolate of his eyes seemed to reflect his necessity to keep himself away from her. The flicker of something in the depths of his eyes told her he needed her more than he was willing to admit to her or himself.
“Because I’m not a good person, Libby. I’ve seen things, done things that would make you cringe. You are innocent of the world I lived in. I will not dirty you with what I have become.”
“You are still the Brock I knew. You haven’t changed that much.”
“You have no idea.”
“Tell me. Show me.”
“No.” He climbed to his feet, shoved his hat back on his head, and headed toward the door without a backward glance.
The jingle of the bell over the door signaled his escape, his back straight as an arrow and firm, like he carried the weight of the world on his shoulders and relished in that weight. He’d been scarred by what he’d seen and done in the last fifteen years, that was appa
rent, but she knew the real Brock’s heart was still in there somewhere. It had to be. She couldn’t accept the fact that he had changed that much, not the man she’d known.
For now, it was over. He was gone—again.
Chapter Two
Rain pelted him like icy fingers as he tugged his hat lower on his face. He didn’t have a jacket and his clothes were soaked clear through.
Heavy wind blew the rain sideways in front of him. Thunder rumbled in the distance. Lightning flashed, illuminating the neighborhood in an eerie glow.
A small light lit the window in the top story of the house he stared at from the shadows.
Libby’s place.
He should never have come here.
He turned to leave, but before he could take two steps, he turned back toward the two-story house across the street. It totally fit the Libby he’d known. White with yellow trim, a long porch wrapped around the front with two rockers strategically placed so she could sit and watch everything go by, and pretty flowerbeds in the front.
A shadow moved across the window, outlining her for a moment before she turned the light out and the house went dark.
Is she alone?
Thoughts of her tormented him as he remembered the feel of her mouth beneath his, the way she moaned when he took her nipple in his mouth, and how soft her skin was under his hands. She’d been perfect, all curves and valleys just waiting for him to explore. At sixteen, she hadn’t fully filled out yet, but she’d been everything he’d wanted. All he could think about now was being buried in her sweet heat again.
The door opened on the house before she stepped out onto the porch, a glass of wine in her hand. “Are you going to stand there all night, or are you going to come over here and get out of the rain?”
She’d known he was there the whole time.
Unable to stop his feet, he crossed the street and moved up the concrete walk until he stood at the bottom of the stairs leading up to the porch. “I shouldn’t be here.”
“But you are.” She took a seat in one of the rockers. “Come on up.”
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