by T. S. Joyce
He snorted and locked the truck, grabbed her hand, and led her around the building. And right before he opened the door for her, he leaned in and murmured, “You look really good today.” He eased back and arched his eyebrow under his cowboy hat. “Really good.”
And that, gentlemen, is how you melt a woman’s ovaries like straight butter.
She was still grinning like a maniac as he stepped around her and carved his way through the light crowd. He was taller than everyone in here by a head, and wider, too. His ass in Wranglers was downright delicious and, yeah, she was staring. She was staring so hard she almost missed his offered hand behind him. Oh, right. She scrambled to catch up and slip her hand into his. She was a girl who held hands with a man now. Grandma was going to shit her pants when she told her.
Okay, admission to herself, she loved being a badass, independent woman, but there was something so endearing about Train Wreck touching her in public. He didn’t care who saw.
“I know you,” one of the good ol’ boys down the bar said as Train Wreck pulled out a stool for her.
“What’s up, man?” Train Wreck said in a friendly tone. To the bartender who set a pair of napkins with the Saloon logo in front of them, Wreck asked, “Can I get a Coors and a Bloody—”
“A beer!” Amber interrupted.
“A bloody beer?” the bartender asked.
“No, just the least nasty light beer you have, good sir.”
The bartender leaned onto the counter and said, “Hmmmm, well, I have Coors Light if you want to match your man.”
“Done.” Amber hit the bar with the palm of her hand. “Sold. That would be perfect, thank you so much.”
“Can I buy y’all a round?” asked the red-headed man in the trucker hat down the bar top. “It’s not every day a top five bucking bull shifter shows up in our little town.”
His two buddies agreed.
“How about I buy y’all a round?” Train Wreck asked, sitting on his stool.
“In that case, we’re switching to your finest Scotch,” Redhead joked.
The easy laughter that filled the air made her heart happy. Train Wreck pulled out his wallet and handed the bartender a credit card. “Can I get some quarters, too?”
Amber looked around for those little toy machines, but didn’t see any. Just an old pool table in the corner. Ooooh. Yep, she was about to embarrass herself, but she was going to have fun doing it!
The bartender popped the tops of the beers and set them down in front of Train Wreck and herself. Wreck lifted his up and waited for her to do the same. “To getting to know more about you. I like everything so far.”
She cheered and tinked the bottle neck against his. “Well, don’t get unattracted to me if I scrunch my face up at this drink. I always wanted to be a beer drinker, or a whiskey drinker, but it was just never my…” Gulp. She swished and swallowed. Then took another sip. “It’s not awful!”
“It’s not awful!” toasted the boys down the counter, holding up their newly poured drinks.
She laughed and pulled off her flannel. It was cool outside, but warm in here. Probably on account of the fireplace that had a real fire in it with real wood. Not just one of those fireplaces with the push button and the fake logs. She looked around. The walls were wooden with exposed beams above them. There were taxidermy deer and elk and a moose on the walls. There was a jackalope with a cowboy hat on it. Old rusted street signs decorated the place, and the floors were so worn and weathered that nearly every one of them had a crack in it. The only lighting was a deer antler chandelier hanging in the middle of the room and some neon beer signs behind the bar. The crowd was light, but seemed happy enough.
“I really like the feel of this place,” she said excitedly.
“You’re resilient, aren’t you?” he asked and then took another sip of his beer.
“Oh, yes, like a rubber band.”
“I’m serious. Today was a lot, and you got thrown for a loop, but you rearranged your head and focused on the moment. You aren’t letting the bad cloud a good night.”
She nodded. “It’s almost too easy to do,” she murmured. “I think I’ve been through so much, and I was determined not to let life beat me down, so I made a conscious choice to be happy and think of bright sides. I’ll have to deal with my uncle when I get back, but right now?” She shrugged and looked around. “Right now, I see nothing but a bright side.”
She could tell by the way he was looking at her that he liked that about her. The glow of a neon sign cast blue highlights and shadows across his chiseled cheeks and, on a whim, she reached out and ran her nails lightly down his beard. “Thank you for showing up so fast today.”
“Anytime.” There was iron in his tone that said he meant it. With a twitch of his head toward the corner, he said, “You want to play a game?”
“A game of pool in a saloon, heck yes!” She sat up straight. “Wait, do I have time to use the bathroom?”
“Of course, goofball. I’ll call the herd and tell them we’ll be a little bit late. Go on, and I’ll rack.” He grabbed both their beers, her flannel, and the stack of quarters the bartender had put in front of him and made his way to the pool table.
“It’s down that hall,” the bartender told her when she looked around for a Restroom sign.
“Thank you!” As she made her way there, she stopped to appreciate Train Wreck for a moment. He was protecting her beer, holding it while he put the quarters in the coin slot on the pool table. There were two girls at the table closest to him, staring and talking low, but he didn’t seem to notice them at all.
Something deep inside of her told her, with absolute certainty, that Train Wreck was a good man.
Chapter Eleven
Train Wreck took another sip of his beer and connected a call to Dead.
He answered with a “Moooo,” the asshole.
“Hey, we might be a little late.”
“That’s cool, we don’t really have plans. Where are y’all?” Dead of Winter asked.
“A saloon called The Sticker Hatch? You ever heard of it?”
“Hell, yeah. It’s only half an hour away from us. We’re in town right now. Want us to come to you?”
Train Wreck looked around and spied an open doorway that had a Restaurant This Way sign on it. “Looks like they have a place to eat attached to the bar.”
“We’re going to the dicker hutch saloon,” Dead yelled into his ear.
Train Wreck yanked the phone from his ear and gritted his teeth, counted to three for patience, and then talked into it again. “We’ll save you some room at the bar.”
“Sweet. We’ll be there soon.”
“Hey, Dead!”
“Oh, yeah. I love you.”
“What?”
“That’s what we’re supposed to say when we hang up, but I forgot. I love you.”
“Don’t ever fuckin’ say that to me again.”
“Fine. What did you want?”
“Can you have the girls take Amber under their wings a little tonight? I just want her to have a good night. It’s been a weird day for her.”
“You liiiiike her.”
Train Wreck rolled his eyes to the rafters and wished he could choke Dead and his stupid sing-songy voice through the phone.
“You lii-iii-ii-ii-iiiiiike herrrrr,” Dead sang.
“I’m hanging up now.”
Dead inhaled deeply and sang even louder, “You loooooveee heee—”
Click. That was enough of that call.
The girls sitting at the table nearby were going to get brave and start talking to him soon. He could hear everything they were saying, and they sure were saying a lot about him. He checked the bathroom hallway for Amber and then connected a call to Hunter Kaid. That werewolf could track down any piece of information he needed.
“Yep,” Hunter answered on the second ring.
“Hey, how you doing?” Train Wreck greeted him.
“I’m good, and I’m going to be an uncle. I
’m not supposed to say that yet, but Wes put a baby in Summer. He told me not to tell anyone, but I’ve told Sadey and also my horse and now you. I can’t stop telling people, and he’s going to kill me.”
“Congrats, man! Hell yeah, you’re going to be an awesome uncle!” Unlike fuckface Sloane Brander. “Hey, I have a favor to ask.”
“Ask away.”
“I need some help figuring something out.”
“Like a puzzle?”
“Sort of. I’ve been talking to Sloane Brander’s niece, and he’s given her a job, but put bugs in her house. He is tightening up the leverage he has over her by the day. But for the life of me, I can’t understand why she’s so important to him. Her mom and grandma moved out years ago and raised her far away. But all the sudden, Sloane has this intense interest in her that doesn’t make any sense. Can you dig into their ties and see if anything clicks?”
“Hell, yeah. I like these challenges. Also, did you get the package I sent you?”
“The tracker?” he asked low.
“Yep. It needs to be injected into your shoulder. It should stay there when you change into the bull.”
“I’ll have Dead do it tonight. Thank you for that. I wired you the money, and I’ll pay for your time on this, too. Congrats again on being an uncle, Hunter.”
“I already bought three onesies. Did you know that’s what they’re called? The little baby body suits? A onesie. Ain’t that cute as fuck?”
“Super…cute.” It felt weird saying that word as a grown man, but okay. Amber was walking this way. “Let me know if you find out anything.”
“Will do. Bye bye now.”
Click.
“I put my hair back,” Amber enlightened him. “That means this is serious.”
“Oh, shit. Are you competitive?”
She smiled with those full lips she’d clearly just smeared with a fresh layer of mauve lip glitter. Her cheeks were all pink, and her eyes were dancing. She had, indeed, pulled her straightened black hair back into a ponytail at the nape of her neck. It shone like a raven’s feather under the light from above. She was a good foot shorter than him, but what she lacked in height, she made up with in curves. Big ass and big tits and that hourglass shape that he couldn’t stop thinking about. She was just wearing a spaghetti-strap black tank top that hugged every inch of her perfect torso and skinny jeans that made every man in here lose their train of thought. He knew. He noticed such things, but he wasn’t one of those aggressive boneheads who started a fight with every man who was looking. It was his job to make her feel appreciated enough that she didn’t care about anyone else watching but him. She was a looker outside and inside. She was a complete package in every way.
“Thank you for protecting my drink,” she said.
He handed her beer back to her. “It’s getting warm. I can get you another one.”
“Oh, I don’t want to waste this one!” She was really damn cute trying to drink it. From the scrunched-up expression on her face, he could tell it wasn’t her favorite.
“The girls will be here in half an hour. They don’t drink beer either so you won’t feel peer-pressured. If I had my guess, they’ll order you some pink shot with a starburst on the rim and a lemon chaser or some shit. He wanted to gag, but he calmed his stomach by taking another drink of his beer. “Want me to break?”
“Ummm, yes. I just got nervous so I’ll probably miss.”
“Nervous, why?” he asked, bending at the waist to take a shot with his pool stick.
“Because I don’t have any friends here. I left them all back in Boise. I mean, I text them all the time and send them, like, ten memes a day, but it’s different being able to see people. What if they don’t like me?”
“The fact that you care so much is pretty special. And trust me…” Clack! The cue ball slammed into the triangle of balls at the other end of the table and broke them all apart. “They’ll like you just fine. They like Dead, and he’s an idiot. You’re a shoo-in.”
Her laugh was so damn cute. And her bright, white smile. And the way her cleavage pushed against her tank top when she leaned over the table. And the curve of her butt as she lined up a shot. God, she was somethin’ else.
She couldn’t shoot pool worth shit, but that was okay. This was her first time in a bar like this. She probably hadn’t been exposed to many hours in a poolhall. He could teach her, and she was a smart woman. For each shot he gave her pointers on, she improved.
“I talked to a guy about your uncle,” he told her.
“What guy?”
“A guy I trust. A guy who can find out a whole lot about a whole lot. I just felt weird keeping that from you. He’s the one I was on the phone with when you got out of the bathroom.”
She chewed the side of her lip and leaned on her pool stick. “I’m in trouble, aren’t I?”
“No.” He squared up to her and leveled her with a look. “No. I won’t let anything happen to you. I just like to know what I’m up against, that’s all.”
She looked up at him with those pretty amber eyes, her full lips pursed, and he wished he could snuff out everything that made her uncertain. And he would. Eventually.
“Why the fuck is she with you?” Dead’s voice boomed from the doorway.
Train Wreck rolled his eyes closed and counted to three again. He did that a lot around Dead.
“Dude, she’s a ten, and you’re, like, a three and a half,” Dead enlightened him as he made his way over to the pool table in all his six-foot-eight, blond-haired, bearded glory. “Amber, I’m here to tell you, you can do better.” He shoved Train Wreck in the shoulder as Amber giggled.
“Amber, this is Dead of Winter,” Train Wreck introduced him. “That’s his mate Raven, aka Hagan’s Lace,” he said, pointing to a skinny, tattooed goth girl who was already coming in for an Amber-hug. “The big one there is Quickdraw. Two Shots Down is holding the door for Annabelle and Cheyenne.”
Amber greeted them all with handshakes for the boys and hugs for the girls.
“Train Wreck prepped us,” Cheyenne tattled. “He said we should be nice to you, like we would be anything else.”
“He told you that?” Amber asked, her stunned gaze drifting to him.
Train Wreck shrugged. “I want you to just have fun tonight.”
Annabelle lifted a menu. “They got fried mushrooms here. I’m in heaven.”
“Two orders,” Dead called out as the girls made their way toward the bar to put in their orders.
“Hey,” he said to Amber before she could move away. “I have a tab open. Put the food and drinks on my card.”
“Okay,” she squeaked out.
“Come on, girl,” Raven called, ushering Amber over toward where they’d cleared out a few bar stools.
“Oh, my God, Hagan’s Lace wants to hang out with me.” Her words all ran together. “Tell me to act cool.”
Train Wreck laughed because, good gracious all-mighty, how could a woman be this damn adorable? He pulled her into a tight hug and swayed with her, murmured against her ear. “Don’t be cool. Be you. They’ll like you more for it.”
She eased back but then shocked the hell out of him by pushing up on her toes and kissing him right on the mouth. Right in front of everyone. It was just a quick peck, but what it did to his body didn’t feel like such a small thing. He stumbled forward when she left him, his hands out. Holy shit.
“I’ve seen that look before,” Quickdraw murmured from beside him.
Train Wreck cleared his throat. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I see it every time Two Shots looks at Cheyenne and Dead looks at Raven.” Quickdraw clapped him on the back and offered him a sympathetic smile. “You’re in it now.”
Chapter Twelve
Today had felt like the best and the worst day ever. It was a complete roller-coaster, but this right here—standing in this bar with these kind people—was the upswing.
“Dead told me you are Sloane Brander’s niece,�
� Raven said low.
“Only by blood,” she explained to the tattooed, dark-haired beauty. “I just started to get to know him when he hired me. I’m not a fan.”
Amber sipped her drink and watched Annabelle weave her way back from the jukebox where she had chosen the next song.
“You can dance!” Annabelle exclaimed, pointing to Amber.
Truly, she hadn’t realized she was dancing. She just did when a good beat came on and she was happy.
There was a dance floor, kind of. Mostly, it was just some clear space at the end of the bar where a few people were doing a line dance.
“Have you ever done one of those?” Cheyenne asked from where she leaned on the bar top beside Amber.
“A line dance? Heck no. I’ve only seen them on TV.”
“I feel like we could do this one. It’s kind of simple,” Anabelle murmured, studying the cowboy hat-wearing, rootin’ tootin’ good ol boys dancing to the beat.
Pick up the boot, turn, step-step-step, dip your hat and put your weight on the front leg, back leg, front leg, freestyle shake-your-butt, turn to the back and start over.
“We could do this!” Amber told the girls.
“I have two left feet,” Raven announced, “but I’ll give it a go!”
“No one take video. What happens in this honky-tonk, stays in this honky-tonk.” Annabelle’s baby belly led the way to the dance floor.
“Oh, shit, this is happening! I’m going to do a dance in a saloon. Wreck!”
Train Wreck straightened up from a shot he was making, his eyes landing immediately on Amber’s.
“I’m going to dance! In a saloon!”
“Yeah, you are!” he called across the bar.
She thought he would go back to making his shot at the pool table, but he handed Quickdraw his pool stick and pointed to the dance floor as he headed that way to meet her there.
Hell, yes! Hot, protective, funny, a badass good man, and he didn’t embarrass easily? Okay, perfect man, where do I sign up to have your babies?
She got in line at the end next to Cheyenne, and before she’d even gotten through the first loop, Train Wreck took the open space on her other side. He hadn’t studied the moves like she had, so he watched her and tried to keep up, but after two loops, he was on it. Even his freestyle booty-shimmy was freaking awesome. He turned a full circle with it, and she was dying laughing she was having so much fun.
