by Lexi Blake
He frowned. “I don’t think staying here alone is a good idea. I’ll ask around and see if someone can stay with you.”
She didn’t want someone. She wanted Henry. “I think I can manage that on my own.”
A single brow rose over Rye’s eyes that let her know he understood quite well who she wasn’t talking about. “Okay, but if he isn’t interested in protecting you, you let me know and we’ll handle it. We can take turns until this guy is caught. I think Seth and Logan can take first watch. They’re prepared to take out whoever comes your way with a Ping-Pong paddle and a couple of rolled-up comic books.”
She laughed and let Rye leave as Logan and Seth walked back in the house. They were sweet kids. Seth was a little older, but he was Logan’s best friend. He’d spent every summer of his life in Bliss since he was five. Nell envied him finding this place at such a young age.
“Rye said we needed to stay here tonight,” Seth said with a smile. “I think we should grab some burgers and watch Star Trek. They didn’t get your DVD player. It still works. I rewired it so we’re good. Do you want fries?”
Logan looked out the window. “We should hurry. Dark thirty comes early this time of year. I’ll have to call my moms.”
Seth rolled his eyes as Logan walked away. His lips curled up. “I’ll take care of you, Nell. My granddad won’t mind. He expects me to stay out all night. I’m in college, you know. I’m working on a software system that will change the way we use operating systems, so my parents don’t fight me too much on staying out.”
How did she put this? “I appreciate it, but I think Henry can take care of me.”
She walked to the window, trying to figure out where he’d gone.
Seth frowned. “He left. He went to Hell on Wheels and told me to take care of you. Don’t worry. Logan and I can handle it. I promise I won’t let him come at some stalker with a Ping-Pong paddle.”
Henry had left? His car wasn’t in the drive anymore. “When did he go?”
“A while back. He kind of shrugged and said you didn’t need him and left. It’s cool because Logan and I can totally take care of you. I’ll get you some free cable, and we can hang out.”
He’d left. He’d walked away, and he hadn’t said good-bye. He’d kissed her like there was no tomorrow and she was the only woman in the whole world, and then he’d decided a shot of liquor was more important than saying good-bye to her? He’d put his hands on her breasts and taken her to completely different places and he’d promised to take care of her, and this was how he did it? He went to a nasty bar with a bad reputation?
Did he think that would scare her off? He didn’t know her at all. Tears threatened and that made her mad. She wasn’t the kind of woman who sat back and accepted the unfairness of the world. She protested. She let people know when they were being douchebags of the highest order because some of them didn’t understand.
Henry was about to understand.
She grabbed her coat and then opened the closet and found a knit hat. She had several but selected blue because it would go with Henry’s eyes and he didn’t have a hat. All he’d had was a leather jacket, and that wasn’t the warmest thing in the world. She picked some gloves, too. Even if he was a complete ass, she wasn’t going to let him go cold.
Logan walked back in the cabin. “I talked to my moms. I can stay but I have to call in, and I can’t have sex with Nell.”
“Ewww.” Nell sent him her patented look, and it had the proper effect on Logan, who shrank back.
“They kind of laughed when I said I wouldn’t sleep with you and then I got that whole sympathetic tone,” Logan admitted, his hands up in a defensive position.
She sighed. “It’s okay, guys. I’m going to be fine. Y’all go on back home.”
Seth frowned. He was so young, but there was a deeply defined sense of responsibility about him. “That’s not going to happen. I talked to both Rye and Henry. I promised them both I wouldn’t leave you alone here. I can take you up to Mountain and Valley, but I won’t leave you here.”
She looked to Logan. He would be the voice of reason.
“Rye said he’d kick my ass if I left you alone.” Logan grimaced. “I kind of believe him.”
“We’re not leaving her alone.” Seth sent his best friend a nasty look. “Come on, man. We’re over eighteen. It’s time we manned up. We have to protect our woman.”
“I’m not your woman.” Even as she said the words, she winced inwardly. She apparently wasn’t Henry’s woman either. He’d walked out. He’d walked out after he’d kissed her like she was the air he needed to breathe. He’d walked out after he’d promised to take care of her.
They had two completely different versions of taking care of her.
A slow anger started. She should let it go. He didn’t like her. She got that. So why had he touched her? Why had he put his lips on hers and shoved her on a bed? Why had she felt that hard part of him when he rubbed against her pelvis?
He should have thought about all of that before he’d done it. He should have thought about that before he’d made her think he’d liked her. It wasn’t fair to pretend.
He should know that. How could he change his behavior and ever become a better person if she didn’t point out his flaws?
Nell took a deep breath. She was naïve when it came to men. She knew that. She was kind of a dork. She spent too much time on intellectual things, but she’d learned long ago that it cost her more to fit in than it did to be herself. She sniffled, willing herself not to cry. She was weird. But she was a good person and she didn’t lie down and let people walk all over her. She was deserving. She had a lot to give. She wasn’t willing to just sit back. Not for him.
He was going to get her speech. He was going to understand exactly what he was missing, and then she would move on knowing she’d spoken her mind.
“I’m going to Hell on Wheels.”
Seth frowned. “Why? He left, Nell. He walked out.”
Nell shrugged. “I’m going. I need to talk to him.”
Seth took a long breath. “All right. I have fake IDs for me and Logan.”
“Dude, my moms will kill us both.” Logan had turned a nice shade of white. “Seriously, they consider you their second son, so death will come swiftly.”
Seth rolled his perfect blue eyes. He was skinny, but it was easy to see he would be a lovely man someday. “What they don’t know won’t hurt them.”
“They know everything,” Logan whispered.
“Ignore him,” Seth said. “I’ll take you up there if that’s what you want, but this Henry guy seems like an asshole if you ask me.”
She didn’t care. He’d made her feel more in a few hours than she’d ever felt before. “I’m going.”
Seth opened the door, and she followed him out trying not to think about the fact she was seriously contributing to the delinquency of minors.
* * * *
Bishop looked across the bar at the pretty redhead and knew he’d made a big mistake. She was lovely. She was soft and feminine. She was obviously needy.
She was wrong because she wasn’t Nell.
The woman across the bar stared down into her Seven and Seven, ignoring everyone around her, but they weren’t ignoring her. He counted at least four men who were eyeing the redhead, and they weren’t planning on being her friend.
“Hey, what can I get for you?” The bartender was an enormous man of obvious Native American descent. He looked to be in his mid-twenties and wore a leather vest. MC. Motorcycle Club, and not the Harley-Davidson-riding weekend-warrior type. Nope. Damn. Even small-town Colorado had criminal problems. The man in front of him didn’t wear the three-piece patch that would proclaim him a one percenter. He had only one piece, the lower rocker. The word PROSPECT emblazoned on his left side. One day, if he was a very good boy and did all kinds of nasty things, he would trade in his PROSPECT patch for the other two pieces of the three patch and then he would be a fully adult criminal. When he turned, Bishop no
ticed the prospective club’s name. The Colorado Horde. If he moved from prospect to member, that symbol would be inked on his back.
“Scotch, neat. At least fifteen-year.”
The bartender rolled his eyes. “Really? Where do you think you are, man?”
“I don’t know. A bar.” He’d been in plenty of shit-ass places, but he’d hoped for some civilization here in the States.
“This is my grandfather’s bar. He’s still living in the Wild West. I can get you whiskey or tequila or crap-ass vodka or beer. We have two wines. Red or white, and they both suck ass. Those are your choices,” the bartender said.
Bishop sighed. It didn’t matter. He needed liquor. A lot of it. If he drank enough, maybe he would forget how hard his cock was. He could still feel Nell’s arms around him. He could still feel her breasts pressed against his chest, her hips moving against his. Damn it. “Vodka. Double on the rocks.”
James Bond didn’t have these problems. Everywhere the fucker went there was a good bar, but that wasn’t Bishop’s life. He was stuck with shit-ass bars. He should have been born British. American operatives got shit. The least he should get for his trouble was a decent drink.
The least he should get as his reward was a soft, sweet, innocent woman to take his cock any way he chose.
The redhead across from him looked up. She had a pretty face, and he could see a nice rack, and it didn’t do a thing for him because she wasn’t Nell. That freaking woman had wrecked his goddamn vacation.
“Here you go.” The bartender slid a glass his way. At least it seemed clean. His head gestured toward the back of the bar. “She’s a nice lady, you know.”
Bishop shrugged and took a sip. Yep. It was low-grade, cheap vodka. “She’s pretty.”
“She got divorced a while back. Apparently it was a nasty thing. She’s still trying to find her footing. She doesn’t need some asshole tourist using her.”
Bishop stared at the bartender. “What’s your name?”
He frowned. “Sawyer. My granddad owns the place, so if you think you can get my ass fired, think again. I work for free, and I don’t like assholes using nice women. Holly’s a nice woman. She needs someone to look out for her.”
Bishop felt a smile cross his face. “Good for you. As it happens, I’m not terribly interested. I have my eye on someone else in town.”
Sawyer crossed his arms over his big chest and leaned back. “I’m trying to figure out who the hell that could be. Harper’s sister is too young. Stella’s a little too old for you. Red back there’s just about right.”
Bishop had no idea who any of those women were. “I haven’t met many people. I just got in today. I’ve only been out to Mountain and Valley.”
Sawyer’s eyes went wide. He snorted. “You a nudist?”
“Nah. I have a friend out there.”
“Okay. I can buy that. Look, I have some friends around Bliss. It’s a nice town. The women are cool.”
He couldn’t help himself. He had to ask. “What do you know about Nell Finn?”
The temperature in the room seemed to drop by ten degrees. Sawyer’s face hardened and his eyes seemed darker than before. “I know she’s a sweet lady, and I wouldn’t like to see her hurt by some tourist who blew through town and used her. She’s a believer, you know?”
He frowned. “No. What do you mean?”
Sawyer sighed. “She believes in all that good shit. She really thinks she can change the world. Look, I’ve met plenty of people who say they can change things, but Nell believes. She’s one of those people who gives it her all and it matters to her. She’s the kind of chick who might actually manage it.”
Bishop huffed. Had the guy been drinking his own product? “Seriously? You’re wearing an outlaw MC cut. You believe in that shit?”
Sawyer shrugged. “I live in a different world and I don’t need to explain myself to you. Nell is an idealist.”
“She’s a dreamer.” And his life was so often a nightmare.
“Dreamers can change the world. Look, man, I’m not that guy, but I also know the world. A hundred years ago women couldn’t vote. Today women get elected to some of our highest offices. It was people like Nell who did that, so don’t underestimate her. And don’t you dare fucking use her. She sounds naïve, but what she says is important.”
Sawyer was serious. And maybe he should be serious, too. He still had a job to do. Just because he’d bailed on her physically didn’t mean he wouldn’t find out who wanted to hurt her. “Has she dated much?”
Sawyer stopped. “No. I kind of thought she wasn’t all that interested in men.”
Oh, she was interested. She simply needed the right man. “So there’s no man in her life.”
She’d been flustered. It was easier to pay attention to men who didn’t matter. She was a submissive who hadn’t been trained to please her Dom. She didn’t have a Dom. She’d likely never had a Dom, so she didn’t understand that a Dom could take care of her and accept all that sweet love she had to give.
He’d gotten pissed off and walked out too soon. Why had he done that? He was patient. It was his greatest strength. He was known for making careful decisions and then plotting out his next move. But he’d taken one look at Nell with that goddamn deputy and he’d walked out because he’d gotten his freaking feelings hurt.
He’d made a mistake.
“Look, I only know Nell because she comes out to the rez and helps out,” Sawyer explained. “We have a lot of poverty and need out there, and she puts in a bunch of time. She’s kind of made herself a part of the family. I wouldn’t like it if she got hurt. She doesn’t have a man looking out for her.”
That didn’t seem to be her problem. The deputy seemed to care, and those two boys had been all over her. But she wasn’t sleeping with any of them. Sex was important. Sex could be the glue that bound people together. A woman would listen to a lover when she wouldn’t listen to a friend or family member. No matter how many well-meaning friends she had, Nell couldn’t truly count on a man unless he was in her bed and taking responsibility.
What the hell was he thinking? He wasn’t someone she should rely on. He wasn’t going to be here in a few weeks. He was exactly the kind of lover she should avoid.
The redhead across from him took another long drink. She looked over as though trying to gather her courage.
“That one is going to be so much trouble.” Sawyer’s jaw firmed. “I wish I hadn’t come in tonight. I’m trying to stay out of jail.”
“Then you shouldn’t be prospecting for an MC.” Bishop watched the woman. She was definitely going to be trouble. She was a lovely woman and she was obviously emotional. The sharks were already starting to circle. A nasty-looking asshole with a mean tat on his arm began making his way over, a leer on his face. “You going to take care of this?”
Sawyer sighed. “If I have to. My granddad is going to have my ass if I start a fight. You don’t understand how mean an old Ute can be when his shit gets trashed. He always threatens to go old school with the honey and the ants. My childhood bedtime stories were really horrible.”
Bishop couldn’t help but smile. He could imagine. The redhead pushed off the bar, obviously making a decision. She was on the move before her insanely large and muscular and very likely criminal suitor made his way over. She rounded the bar and made a beeline for someone in particular.
Fuck. She was coming his way.
“Nice. Holly made her choice.” Sawyer looked more chipper than he had before. “Now she’s your problem.”
Motherfucker.
“That’s Holly for you.” A cowboy slid into the seat beside him, a Stetson on his head. “She goes for the man who looks like he has a college education every time. It’s why she usually isn’t in real trouble here. I’m going to need a whiskey shot with a beer chaser.”
“See, that I can do.” Sawyer slapped a hand on the bar. “This guy wanted to know how old my Scotch was.”
The cowboy snorted. “Tourist.” He
nodded the redhead’s way, and Bishop stared for a minute. He’d already met this guy. “Holly Lang. She moved here a couple of years back. Nice lady, but every now and then her ex-husband gets to her and she comes to the conclusion that she should have revenge sex. It’s a real bad idea, so we take turns hauling her butt back to Bliss. It was Rye’s turn, but he’s working, so I got called in when Stella saw her buying that new dress. Apparently a woman in a V-neck means business.”
Bishop frowned. Holly seemed to have changed her mind and headed for the ladies’ room. She turned right on her heels and walked away.
The cowboy next to him sighed. “See. She always changes her mind, but by then she’s got some jerk who doesn’t want to take no for an answer.”
Yep, there were several sets of eyes on her as she walked away.
“You’re the deputy’s twin.” They were physically identical, but this guy had a deep frown where Rye Harper had been fairly sunny.
“Max Harper. I run the Harper Stables on the other side of town,” the cowboy offered. “And you’re?”
“Henry Flanders. I’m a professor of history. Just here on vacation.”
Max nodded his way and then shot the whiskey Sawyer put in front of him down in one quick swallow. “That’s got some bite. Where the hell did your granddaddy find that? I think that might strip my insides clean.”
“Hey, be grateful,” Sawyer shot back, handing him a beer. “Granddad likely would have given you Mel’s shit. He and Mel went to a sweat lodge and Mel convinced him to buy a case of his tonic. God, the thought of sitting in that fucking thing with twelve naked dudes in the heat does nothing for me. If they want me to get all spiritual and shit, they should put a couple of ladies inside.”
“Damn it. Here comes more trouble.” Max rolled his eyes. “I don’t know that girl, but she’s going to cause a ruckus.”
A semi had pulled up in the parking lot, and a blonde woman jumped out. She turned, and though Bishop couldn’t hear her, he was pretty sure there was nothing but bile coming out of her mouth. That was one pissed off female. She had a backpack in her hand and as she walked away, she flipped the trucker the finger.
