Hot Texas Sunrise

by Delores Fossen

  Cleo dug through her purse to come up with a handful of tissues, but as soon as she wiped away tears, more came. She wasn’t a crier, but there’d been so much stored-up emotion inside her that she supposed it had to come out. At least it hadn’t happened in front of the boys.

  Cleo’s head snapped up and she sputtered out a garbled sound of surprise when someone tapped on her window.

  Judd was there on the other side of the glass.

  She hadn’t heard him come up, probably because her ears were plugged up from the crying, but with a glance over her shoulder, she saw his truck now parked behind her. No one else was inside it, thank goodness.

  Cleo quickly did more tear-wiping as she lowered the window, and she considered telling him that she had a severe allergy attack. One look at his face, though, and after hearing the heavy sigh that left his mouth, she doubted anyone could manage that good of a lie.

  He went to the passenger side of her car and got in. She steeled herself for the questions she figured he would ask, but he stayed silent. Well, verbally silent, anyway. Those cop’s eyes were steady on her.

  “I lost it when I heard Beckham telling Liberty about Lavinia hitting them,” she confessed.

  He just nodded in that calm, effortless way of his that let her know he’d already suspected as much. “Is there anything I can do?”

  She shook her head. “No, I’d just about finished. Crying sucks,” she added and then groaned when she checked her face in the mirror. Cleo took out her compact from her purse, but she doubted some puffs of powder were going to help this.

  “Liberty said Beckham’s statement and Audrey’s report should be enough to back up the restraining order,” she added.

  He made a sound that could have meant anything and just kept staring at her.

  “You know, that look you’re giving me feels like a truth serum,” she said. “You really don’t want me to start spilling all, do you?”

  Judd stayed quiet, maybe considering her question. Considering, too, that her spilling might involve talking about this heat that was still between them. Heat that sizzled when her eyes cleared enough to actually see him.

  He looked away from her.

  Obviously, he wasn’t in a spilling or hearing a spilling kind of mood. Too bad because a quick discussion of sizzle, followed by some flirting, might have washed away her dark film of thoughts.

  “How are you?” Cleo asked, but what she really wanted to know was why he’d felt the need to call his sponsor.

  His mouth tightened enough to let her know he didn’t want to discuss it, but it did get his gaze back on her. A long, lingering, smoldering gaze. Though Cleo had to admit that the smoldering part might be her own overly active imagination.

  Or not.

  Judd said a single word of really bad profanity, grabbed her shoulders and dragged her to him. His mouth was on hers before Cleo could even make a sound. It turned out, though, that no sound was necessary because she got a full, head-on slam of the heat. And this time it wasn’t just simmering around them. It rolled through her from head to toe.

  Now she made a sound, one of pleasure, and the years vanished. It was as if they’d picked up where they’d left off seventeen years ago, when he’d been scorching her like this in his bed.

  His taste. Yes. That was the same. Maybe with a manlier edge to it, but it was unmistakably Judd. Unmistakably incredible.

  Cleo felt herself moving right into the kiss. Right into Judd, too. Unfortunately, the gearshift was in the way, but she still managed some more body-to-body contact when she slid against him and into his arms.

  Judd deepened the kiss, and she let him. In fact, Cleo was reasonably sure that she would have let him do pretty much anything. Yep, he’d heated her up just that much.

  Apparently, though, he hadn’t made himself as mindless and needy as he had her because he pulled back, cursed again and resumed his cop’s stare. Though she did think his eyes were a little blurry.

  They sat there, gazes connected, breaths gusting. Waiting. Since Cleo figured her gusty breaths weren’t enough to allow her to speak, she just waited for Judd to say something memorable.

  “Shit,” he growled.

  Okay, so maybe not memorable in the way she’d wanted. Definitely not romantic. But it was such a Judd reaction that it made her smile. Then laugh.

  She leaned in, nipped his bottom lip with her teeth. “Don’t worry, Judd. I’ll be gentle with you.”

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  JUDD DOUBTED HIS mood could get any worse, but he figured Gopher was testing that theory when he saw the man loitering outside the Lightning Bug Inn. Gopher must have gotten a glimmer of the bad mood because his eyes widened when Judd’s cruiser squealed to a stop and Judd barreled out.

  Judd aimed both a glare and his index finger at Gopher. “If you want your junk to stay where junk belongs, then you’ll keep that coat closed and get the hell home—now!”

  Gopher didn’t even try to come up with some lame excuse as to why he was there. He just took off running, and Judd had never seen him move that fast. Didn’t know he could, and the speed told Judd that the man clearly had some common sense left if he knew better than to tangle with him. Too bad, though, that Gopher had shown that escaping wisdom now because it might have appeased Judd’s temper some to arrest his sorry flashing butt.

  I’ll be gentle with you.

  Those were the words that had been going through Judd’s head for the past two days, and while Cleo had meant it as a joke, it wasn’t giving Judd any fun and merriment. Just the opposite. That handful of words, coupled with the kiss, had left him in a bad-mood muddle.

  He’d been a damn fool to kiss Cleo.

  Because there was no way it was just a kiss. It was a Pandora’s box to a whole bunch of other stuff. Stuff that neither Cleo nor he had time for. She didn’t need to carry on with him right now, what with her hands full with the boys. Plus, if Cleo and he did land in bed, she would likely wonder why he’d shirked fostering when he hadn’t shirked lust. He was already feeling shitty about turning down the foster request without adding another heap of guilt to it.

  Judd again mentally went through the logic of why there’d be no sex with Cleo, and he hoped this time it stuck. He wasn’t holding out hope about that, though. It’d been two days since that kiss in her car, and his mouth and the rest of his body were still burning for her.

  At least he hadn’t made the foolery even worse by kissing her again. Or coaxing her into the back seat of her car. Somehow, he’d managed to get out of her car and leave. Not easily. Because it’d been difficult to walk with a hard-on, but he’d managed to put some distance between them.

  Judd had continued to keep that distance, too, though that was more because of Cleo’s busy schedule than any planned avoidance on his part. With her trying to settle the boys in their new home and going back and forth between the ranch and the bar, there hadn’t been time for other car kisses and sex jokes.

  He got back in his cruiser to head to the station, where he would face more paperwork—something he’d spent the morning doing, and then dropped off that paperwork at the courthouse. Normally, it was something Kace would have taken care of, but he was working from Buck’s ranch today so he could be there when the social worker showed up.

  Judd suspected his brother was feeling some nerves about that visit from CPS because it was a necessary step in maintaining temporary custody, but unfortunately Judd wasn’t going to be able to help out Kace in that area. Kace was the person of record for the boys’ custody, which meant he was the one who was going to have to answer the questions and pass any kind of inspection or test CPS would have for him. It especially wouldn’t be easy because the fostering was a partial lie.

  Judd parked at the station and was heading in just as his phone rang. He practically jumped out of his skin, and that’s when he admitted to himself t
hat he, too, was wired about the CPS visit. But it wasn’t Kace’s name on the screen.

  It was Callen’s.

  “I just got off the phone with Buck,” Callen snapped the moment that Judd answered. “Why didn’t you call me and tell me about Cleo needing help?”

  “Hello to you, too,” Judd growled. “And the reason I didn’t call you was because you eloped and are on your honeymoon.”

  “I would have wanted to know. Shelby, too,” Callen insisted, and in the background, Judd heard Shelby voice her strong agreement. “We’re packing now to head home.”

  “No need. It’s all under control.” And Judd hoped that was true. “Kace has temporarily moved into Buck’s, and he did the paperwork to foster the boys.”

  “Yes, but Buck said CPS might not go along with that,” Callen argued. “If Shelby and I are there, we can step in if CPS has questions about Kace being able to handle this. We want CPS to know that Kace has backup if he needs it.”

  “We can help,” Shelby added. “We want to help.”

  Hell. Talk about adding yet more to his guilt trip. Judd felt as if he was the only person in Coldwater who hadn’t stepped up to the plate on this.

  “Buck told us what the boys have been through,” Callen went on, and he muttered some profanity. “I’m guessing Cleo’s arranged for them to see a counselor, but if not, I can help with that.”

  Judd didn’t know about the counselor, which for some reason heaped on more guilt. He should know something like that and could have maybe gotten the info from Cleo if he hadn’t spent their time together kissing her.

  “You’d have to ask Cleo about that,” Judd said.

  “I will. Shelby and I should be home in a couple of hours.”

  Judd didn’t even try to talk Callen out of it, and heck, maybe Cleo and Kace did need them. Three kids were a lot to manage, and with Cleo and Kace both having full-time jobs, they might welcome having the extra help.

  And yeah, that led to even more guilt.

  Judd hadn’t even had time to put his phone away before it rang again, and this time it was Kace’s name on the screen so Judd answered it right away.

  “I have a problem,” Kace said, and it immediately snagged Judd’s attention because his brother was whispering. “I just got a call from Principal Winslow at the high school, and he said Beckham left without permission. It’s his study-hall period, but he’s still not allowed to leave campus.”

  Damn it. Not another runaway attempt. “What about Leo and Isaac? Are they with Beckham?”

  “No. I checked the elementary school, and they’re both in class.”

  Well, that was something at least, but that didn’t mean Beckham didn’t have plans to collect his brothers and run off again.

  “Did something happen to piss Beckham off?” Judd asked.

  “Nothing that I know about, but it’s possible something went on at school.” Kace was still whispering. “I can’t go looking for him because the social worker is here, and I can’t ask Cleo to do it because she’s at work. I’d rather not involve Buck, either, but if you can’t—”

  “I’ll go.” Judd didn’t want more to add to his guilt pile. “How long has Beckham been missing?”

  “According to Principal Winslow, less than an hour.”

  Good. Then he couldn’t have gotten far. Well, unless someone had given him a ride, but Judd wasn’t going to jump on that worst-case scenario just yet.

  “The principal agreed to keep this quiet as a favor to me,” Kace went on. “I don’t need this getting back to the social worker.”

  No. They already had enough strikes against them.

  “I’ll let you know when I find him,” Judd assured his brother, and he ended the call.

  Judd sent a quick text to Ginger, the dispatcher, and he kept it vague. He just told her that he’d gotten tied up with something and left it at that.

  In hopes of keeping this off the gossip’s radar, he didn’t use the cruiser, but instead got in his truck and started the drive to the high school. It wasn’t far, but then nothing in Coldwater was. Judd was there in only a couple of minutes, and he drove around the parking lot and grounds looking for any sign of the boy.

  Nothing.

  He wasn’t even sure if Beckham knew the back road to get to the elementary school, but that’s the way Judd took. There were plenty of trees on the narrow rural road, which meant plenty of places to duck and hide. But he was thinking Beckham wasn’t in that mind-set. Speed would be his priority. And since he wasn’t one to leave his brothers behind, Beckham would likely have gotten to their school as fast as possible.

  Judd cursed and had to slam on his brakes when he spotted the longhorn in the middle of the road, one that he instantly recognized. It belonged to the librarian, Esther Benton. For some reason, the darn thing was always breaking fence and wandering off, and it never responded to a honked horn. Though that was what Judd tried. Other than giving Judd a disinterested glance, it didn’t budge an inch.

  Hoping that no one speeding would slam into his truck, Judd got out to give the longhorn a swat on the butt with his hat.

  And that’s when he saw Beckham.

  If the boy was actually hiding, he was doing a lousy job of it. He was in plain sight, leaning against a tree, his backpack slung over one shoulder. He had a pair of binoculars and was using them to look into the clearing just ahead, at the elementary school playground.

  “Who sent you to look for me?” Beckham immediately snarled.

  “Kace.”

  Beckham shook his head and mumbled something Judd didn’t catch. Probably some curse words.

  “It’s not a good day for you to pull a stunt like this,” Judd told him. He took out his phone and texted Kace to let him know that he’d found the boy. “The social worker’s at the ranch doing an inspection.”

  Beckham didn’t say anything about that, and definitely didn’t apologize, but he did start walking toward the truck. “I didn’t want any kids picking on Leo so I borrowed these binoculars from the tack room in the barn.”

  Judd gave the longhorn another swat, finally getting it to move, and he went back to his truck, meeting Beckham’s gaze over the top of it. “Has somebody been picking on Leo?” And Judd had to tamp down his sudden urge to go to the school and put the fear of God into anyone giving the kid any trouble.

  “Isaac said he saw some boys making fun of Leo,” Beckham added. “They called him a mutt that nobody wanted and that’s why he had to move to Mr. Buck’s house and be a foster kid.”

  Then, yeah. “Fear of God” time. The anger snapped through him like a bullwhip. “Get in the truck. I’m going to the school.”

  Beckham’s eyes widened, as if he was surprised by Judd’s reaction. “You’re not going to arrest a kid, are you?”

  No, but he could put a stop to any bullying. “Did Isaac give you the names of who was picking on Leo?” Judd asked once they were both in the truck.

  “He said they call one of them Smelly. Sound familiar?”

  It did indeed. “One of the Smelton brats. Their dad, Arnie Smelton, works on one of the local ranches and has five kids, maybe six. All of them are dumber than rocks and as mean as snakes. I’ve already hauled in the oldest one a couple of times for fighting and creating a public nuisance.”

  Which was probably more than he should have shared with Beckham, but he’d learn it soon enough. There weren’t a lot of secrets in a small town like Coldwater.

  “You’ll let me handle this,” Judd added to Beckham. “That means no more leaving the campus to keep watch.”

  Beckham studied him. “You seem pretty pissed off. You’re not going to start a fight, are you?”

  “No.” But he wished he could do that before this anger festered. “I’ll just have a quick word with the principal, take you back to school and then I’ll talk to Arnie.”


  Beckham nodded, and now Judd was the one who was surprised. He hadn’t figured on Beckham letting him deal with this.

  And maybe Beckham wouldn’t.

  Judd knew some of what was going on in the boy’s head, and Beckham probably wasn’t just going to trust him with something like protecting his little brother.

  “Will you tell Cleo about this?” Beckham asked.

  “Yeah, if Kace doesn’t tell her first.”

  Beckham huffed, probably because he thought this was going to earn him lectures from not only the principal, but also Kace and Cleo. Heck, maybe Buck, too.

  Judd pulled into the parking lot of the elementary school and found a spot right next to the playground. It had a wire fence around it, but he could still see the kids through it. No sign of Isaac or Leo, though.

  “I’m worried about Cleo,” Beckham said out of the blue.

  Judd practically snapped toward him. “Why?”

  Beckham lifted his shoulder. “She likes you a lot. I can tell. She’s really smart but not when it comes to men.”

  Judd didn’t know if Beckham had just insulted Cleo or him. Since he wasn’t sure whether to ask about the liking part or not-smart part, Judd just stayed quiet and kept watch of the playground.

  “Right around the time Mom got really sick, I heard her talking with Cleo about some man who was bothering her. Bothering Cleo, not Mom,” Beckham added, to clarify. “Mom told her she needed to quit hooking up with guys with issues.” He frowned. “What exactly is an issue, anyway?”

  “It could be a lot of things.” But Judd figured he was the walking, talking definition of one. Hopefully, though, this issue-laden turd who had bothered Cleo was now out of the picture.

  “Is this guy still around?” Judd asked.

  “Don’t think so. Like I said, Cleo’s hung up on you now.”

  Judd frowned and was about to dole out reasons why that wasn’t true. But then he remembered the kiss again. So, maybe there was a small amount of being hung up. That was even more reason to keep some emotional distance between Cleo and him.