Tyler

by Jennifer Ashley

  Chapter Ten

  “What do we do now?” Dominic asked.

  They stood at the town’s gas station, Jess filling her car, the slightly worn midnight blue Toyota blending in with the other cars and pickups. So normal. She felt a twinge of deep regret when she saw a woman drive through on a sweet Harley. Well, maybe Mrs. Alvarez would learn to ride it if she couldn’t send it safely to Jess.

  Jess laughed and then almost cried again, picturing Mrs. Alvarez and her friends on motorcycles, heading off to battle.

  Dominic’s question brought Jess out of her musings. This was the first concern he’d voiced, and even now, he trusted her to tell him how things were going to go.

  “We talk to people and see what happens.” Jess had already paid for the gas, but an eager, rawboned young man who worked for the station headed over to her.

  “Hi there,” he chirped. “You visiting? Can I help you find anything? Hey, Mrs. Ward is starting on her apple pies again. You have a bite of those, and you’ll think you died and went to heaven.”

  Dominic gave Jess a hopeful look. He’d be hungry—it had been five hours since the pizza.

  Even so, the sun was still high in the early September sky, the warmth seeping into Jess’s bones.

  “Is there a motel nearby?” Jess asked the young man. “Oh, and do you know where this place is?” She took out the card Tyler had given her.

  Circle C Ranch. It sounded like something out of the Old West, yet so inviting.

  “Oh, sure. The Campbells,” the young man said after one swift peek at the card. “You go back down this road and hang a left. Along there for about—oh, maybe a couple miles—and then there’s a little road off to the right. Might be a sign there, but not always. It blows down, or people steal it—isn’t that crazy? Anyway, turn there and you’ll see the gate about half a mile after that. You looking to buy a horse?” The kid cast a doubtful glance over Jess in her sleeveless top and jeans shorts, messy hair and no makeup. She must not look the horsey type.

  “No, I …” Crap. Jess had no idea what to tell him. “We’re just visiting,” she finished.

  The young man narrowed his eyes, obviously trying to figure out who she’d be visiting at Circle C and why, but he kept up his friendliness. He was curious, not hostile.

  “Well, tell Mrs. C.—all the Mrs. C.’s—” He broke off and chuckled. “Tell them Hank said hi. And that the apple pies are wanting some eating.”

  “Thank you,” Jess said sincerely. “Will do.”

  “All right then. You take care. And you need any more directions, you just come on back here and ask.”

  Hank loped away with a wave as Jess got into the car. Dominic sank into his seat as she started it up.

  “Is he a hick?” he asked as they rolled out of the gas station.

  “Dominic!” Jess hastily made sure no one was within hearing distance. “Don’t call people hicks. It’s not nice. We might have to live here.”

  Dominic gave her a puzzled look. “Don’t get mad. I just want to know. I’ve never met a hick before.”

  “Well, don’t say it again, all right? I don’t need people angry at us the first ten minutes we’re in town.”

  “Okay, okay. Calm down.”

  “I’ll explain everything when we have time,” Jess said. “Promise.”

  “I know why we left Dallas,” Dominic answered. “I can hear you when I’m in my room, you know, and Mrs. Alvarez can’t whisper to save her life. I didn’t want to go to El Paso anyway.”

  Jess started, then realized she shouldn’t be surprised. Dominic was sharp. “You can’t tell anyone where we are, do you understand? Not even your closest friends. I’m sorry, honey, but it’s too dangerous. You especially can’t tell Elijah.”

  “I said I get it.” Dominic scowled. “Like I’d be texting Elijah anyway. He’s a creep-toid.”

  A good word for him.

  “Now, help me find the turnoff,” Jess said as she took the left Hank had indicated.

  Dominic scanned the side of the road. Jess did as well—there were no other cars behind her, and she could slow down to search.

  “There it is,” Dominic said excitedly.

  He pointed at a low white sign, nearly hidden in the brush. Boards had been painted white with a black logo—a C inside a circle—with an arrow pointing to Jess’s right.

  She pressed hard on the brakes and turned quickly onto the tiny road the arrow indicated. She signaled out of habit, but no one was behind her to see—or ahead of her for that matter.

  The road was paved but very narrow. Only one vehicle at a time would fit. Trees obscured the view at first, the lane like a tunnel with green branches lacing overhead.

  The trees parted abruptly, and Jess drove under a wrought-iron arch with Circle C Ranch spelled out with square iron letters across the top.

  The road took them to the crest of a rise. From there Jess could see, to her right, several corrals, an open ring and a covered one, and beyond those, rows of stables. To the left was a wide swath of green with a half dozen horses dotting it, heads down, grazing.

  At the top of another rise, where the drive ended in a long arc, was a low, rambling one-story house. Made of brick, it stretched across the green ground as though embracing it. To the left of the house was a huge garage with what must be a guest house built over it.

  Jess’s dashboard clock read six in the evening, but the ranch wasn’t quiet. Men roved about, leading horses, carrying bales of hay, shoveling, raking, one driving some kind of low-slung tractor through the covered ring.

  Two men rode horses in the open ring, which was close to the drive. Jess pulled the car to a halt beside it, her heart pounding.

  The riders wore plain T-shirts and jeans, both men in cowboy hats, one straw, one black. The horses were loping slowly around each other, the riders watching every step. Jess turned off the engine and very carefully got out of the car, entranced by the graceful dance.

  The man in the straw hat—Carter—snapped a command.

  Instantly both cowboys rolled from their saddles to the rump of the opposite horse. They executed the move smoothly, the horses never missing a step.

  “Cool!” Dominic said excitedly from beside Jess. “Tyler! Hey!”

  The man in the black hat snapped his head around. He stared straight at Jess, and then his hat tumbled from his head and hit the dirt.

  Tyler followed the hat down a second later. He landed on his butt then sprawled onto his back, spread-eagled, as dust rose gently around him.

  * * *

  Son of a bitch.

  Tyler was on his feet faster than Carter could leap down to help him.

  Didn’t it figure. The lady of his dreams had materialized out of nowhere, and so Tyler fell flat on his ass in front of her.

  Tyler slapped the dust off his jeans, aware they had holes in them, as did his worn-out T-shirt. His hat was on the ground, wind tossing his hair.

  In contrast, Jess looked perfect. Her jeans shorts set off her long, curved legs; the sleeveless top hugged her chest and showed off the gorgeous tatts on her arms. Her dark hair was tousled, making Tyler want to run his fingers through it and tousle it more.

  His horse, a new gray called Diehard, jogged gently around the ring, stirrups flapping, probably wondering if Tyler’s move would be part of the show.

  “Tyler!” Dominic waved as though worried Tyler wouldn’t see him. “Remember us? Mom wants to live here now. That is what we’re doing here, right, Mom?”

  “Dominic.” Jess’s already flushed face went redder still.

  Carter sent Tyler a hard glance. Whether he disapproved or was telling Tyler not to upset Jess, he couldn’t tell. Carter could be difficult to read.

  Without a word, Carter walked away to catch the horses, giving Tyler relative privacy to screw up with Jess again.

  She stepped hesitantly to the rail, Dominic with her. Tyler remained rooted in the center of the ring, unable to move his feet to walk to her.

&nbs
p; Jess took a breath, which moved her breasts under the white top. “You were right—I needed to leave where I was for a better place. Can you recommend somewhere I can stay while I look for a job? A motel or B&B or—”

  “Yes, you can stay right here.”

  Jess blinked, her face going scarlet. “I’m not here to take advantage of you. I want to start over, and Riverbend sounds like a good town to do it in. Just point me to a motel, and you’ll never have to see me.”

  Dominic stared at her in bafflement. “Why don’t you want to see him, Mom? I thought you liked him.”

  Jessica couldn’t possibly blush any more, although the redness in her face crept down her neck to her chest. “Dominic,” she said in agonized tones.

  “Y’all are staying here.” Tyler’s feet came unstuck, and he strode to the rail, stepping up to swing over it. He landed lightly next to her, no falling on his ass this time, though it was a close thing. “It’s a big house, lots of room. Or—tell you what. You and Dominic take my apartment over the garage, and I’ll stay in the house a while.” When Jess opened her mouth to protest, Tyler shook his head. “You’ll have more privacy, and won’t have to put up with my brothers. I just finished remodeling the bathroom—it’s real nice. Stay as long as you want.”

  Dominic grabbed Jess’s hand. “Come on, Mom. Please? Elijah will never find us here. We barely found it.”

  “Elijah?” Tyler asked sharply.

  His awkwardness fled. Carter’s friend, whom Tyler had paid to sit in the Dallas bar every night and make sure Jess was all right, had reported that Elijah had been absent for a couple weeks but had reappeared this past Thursday. Elijah and Jess had argued about something in the parking lot—Noah hadn’t been able to hear exactly what—but Jess had held her own, and Elijah had left again. Jess had come in and done her Friday and Saturday shifts as usual, but Elijah hadn’t returned.

  So what had happened to make Jess run?

  “Dominic, you need to learn to keep things to yourself,” Jess said in a tone Tyler sometimes heard his own mother use. There must be a “mom” class that taught that sternness of voice.

  Dominic rolled his eyes with nine-year-old astuteness. “It’s the truth, and Tyler and his brothers are good guys. I can tell the difference. I’m not stupid.”

  “No, but you’re mouthy.” Jess’s anger broke through her distress, making her eyes sparkle and her head lift.

  “Hey, Dominic.” Tyler pointed at a small figure emerging from the house. “That’s Faith, Carter’s daughter. Go tell her I told her to show you her horses. Your mom and I need to talk.”

  Dominic studied Faith, who’d halted on the bottom step of the porch to shield her eyes and peer at them. He sighed. “Okay, I’ll go talk to a girl.” He sounded doubtful. “Don’t blow it, Mom. I don’t want to sleep in the car.”

  Jess watched in exasperation as Dominic marched toward the house, squaring his shoulders as though bravely facing an ordeal.

  Faith came off the step to greet him. Tyler couldn’t hear what they said, but he knew Faith was being her usual sunny self. She gestured for Dominic to follow her to the barn.

  Dominic glanced over his shoulder at Jess, his look saying he was being self-sacrificing. Faith came back to Dominic, caught his hand, and led him on.

  Tyler turned away from the scene and walked past Jess to her car. The keys hung in the ignition, so Tyler slid into the driver’s seat and started it.

  “Get in,” he said to her through the open window. “You bring any bags?”

  “In the trunk.” Jess yanked open the passenger door and climbed inside. “I’ll pay you rent.”

  Tyler put the car in gear and shook his head. “We’ll fight about that later.”

  He drove to the house and around it to the garage. The driveway ended in a wide slab of concrete in front of the garage doors, surrounded by graded dirt to accommodate the many vehicles that sometimes parked here. For now the concrete held Carter’s truck and Tyler’s, Grace’s new pickup, and Tyler’s mom’s SUV. Adam and Grant, who had homes of their own, usually parked by the office at the end of the barn when they came to train, though the brothers had already departed for the evening.

  Tyler had been renovating the rooms over the garage—which a hundred years ago had been a carriage house—for about a year. He was almost done, his apartment becoming luxurious. He figured that if he was going to be a grown man living with his mom, he should do it in style.

  He parked Jess’s car behind his pickup, turned off the engine, and hauled himself out. He pressed the button on her key fob to open the trunk and lifted out a small roller bag and a backpack before she could reach him.

  “Is this it?” he asked as Jess arrived at his side. As usual, she hadn’t waited for him to open her door.

  “All I had time for. You can’t overpack when you’re going for stealth.”

  “That’s all right.” Tyler hefted both bags, finding them light. “We actually have stores in Riverbend, or we can head to Austin if you want something special.”

  “No, no. For now I’ll stay right here. I don’t need much.”

  Tyler didn’t miss the ugly fear in her eyes, which made something grim in him tighten.

  He shut the trunk. “Upstairs,” he said, gesturing to the outside staircase, its spindles painted a fresh white. “Then you are going to tell me everything.”

  “Will Dominic be all right?” Jess cast a glance at the barn. “He’s not used to horses. Neither am I.”

  “Faith is,” Tyler answered. “And Carter watches Faith like an overprotective hawk. Plus we have plenty of guys—and gals—working in that barn who will make sure he’s okay. Now, up the stairs, sweetheart. Or do I have to plant my hand on your ass all the way?”

  Jess’s answering look, in which he read that she was picturing the last time he had his hands on her ass, sent fire through his veins. He shouldn’t think about things like that.

  “Don’t try it, cowboy,” Jess said. “I’m used to fending off bikers. You don’t stand a chance.”

  Her answer fueled Tyler’s need to wrap himself around her and keep her safe. Elijah and his bikers should be taught a lesson, and Tyler knew plenty of guys who’d be happy to help him do it.

  He said nothing, only followed her up the stairs, letting his gaze rest on the firm ass in question. “Go on in,” he said once they reached the top.

  Jess opened the unlocked door and stepped into the light and airy living room. The apartment was almost done—Tyler had to finish the floor in the front closet, but he wasn’t ashamed to have Jess see it.

  Tyler set the bags on the sofa. “Let me give you the grand tour.” He spread his arms. “This is the living room. Over there is the kitchen.” He indicated the small but all-new kitchen beyond the granite-topped breakfast bar. “In here is the bedroom.” He walked through a doorway into the spacious, sunny room with a large bed. “Bathroom in there.”

  Through another door was a bathroom almost as big as the bedroom. He’d put in a large soaking bathtub as well as a shower stall with plenty of space in between for drying off. Tyler worked all day in dust and horse shit—he wanted to smell a little better than that when he went out for the evening.

  “And that was the tour.” Tyler remained in the middle of the bedroom, dropping his hands to his sides.

  Jess left for the living room but not self-consciously—she was just looking around.

  “It’s nice.” She sounded surprised as she took in the cream-colored sofa with bright cushions, the stainless steel appliances, the plantation shutters, the framed posters for their stunt shows on the walls.

  “What did you expect?” Tyler moved past her to the kitchen and the refrigerator.

  Jess shrugged. “I don’t know. Plaid furniture. Brands burned into the fake wooden paneling.”

  “Well, I was going to do that,” Tyler said, straight-faced. “But my sisters-in-law come up here and give me all kinds of advice.” He let his voice rise to a falsetto. “Tyler, you ne
ed more pillows on the sofa. Tyler, you need a nice rug in here and matching towels in the bathroom. Don’t forget the little soaps—everyone loves the little soaps.”

  Jess turned in place to take it all in. “Your sisters-in-law have good taste.”

  “They fit right in with my pushy family. Want a beer?”

  She hesitated as though fighting an automatic No, then spread her hands. “Sure, what the hell?”

  Tyler stocked several different kinds of beer, never knowing what his guests would like. He chose a blond ale for Jess and picked up his favorite amber. Texas boys were supposed to drink only commercial American brands but Tyler had fallen in love with craft beer, which had a huge range of choices and tastes. A local brewery had started up in White Fork, and the brewer had opened Tyler’s eyes to a new world.

  Tyler pried off the bottle caps and carried Jess’s beer to her as she took a seat on the sofa next to her bags. The bags crowded Tyler out, but that was his own fault. He was the idiot who’d put them there in the first place.

  Jess studied the label and gingerly tasted the beer, her expression changing to delight. “Perfect. Crisp, not sharp.”

  “You like craft beer?”

  “I’m a bartender,” Jess reminded him. “A trained and experienced one. I’ve tasted plenty of local brews, good and bad. Most of my customers like what’s on tap though, no matter what it is. By the pitcher.” She took another sip. “Blond ale, not too fruity. Nice. I don’t like IPAs though. Don’t know why. I just don’t.”

  “Me either.” Why did Tyler’s heartbeat speed at that tiny connection? He held up his bottle, and Jess clicked it with hers.

  “Come on, now,” Tyler said, once they’d drunk in silence a moment. “We’re alone. You can chill out and enjoy your beer—and tell me every last thing that happened.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Jess wasn’t as relaxed as she pretended to be—though this was damned good beer. Tyler sat on a chair with charcoal-colored upholstery that contrasted the sofa’s cream. He leaned forward, his beer bottle resting between his big hands, his blue eyes focused on her.