Seduction of Saber (Saving the Sinners of Preacher's Bend #3) (3 page)

As Julia ran through the quiet streets of Preacher’s
Bend, listening to the sound of hardcore rock music blasting into her eardrums
through her headphones, she mulled over what her father had said to her
earlier. No. He would not be here to protect her. But damnit! She didn’t need
her father’s protection.

Gill’s
protection
was what had her unmarried, and
at the age of twenty-eight temporarily unhappy. No one had ever been good
enough for his only daughter. He would look at all the men she’d brought home
over the last few years as though they should’ve been placed under a
microscope; each put through a battery of medical questions just to date her.
Taken apart, piece by piece, until each man had decided enough was enough; that
she wasn’t worth the trouble of dealing with an overbearing, uncooperative sire.
Or one that dug into their medical history, which was private.

Her father hadn’t been home those two glorious weeks
she’d dated Jake Giotti. Hence, the very reason Mr. Giotti still stood upright.
And the very reason Jake could still say he was Gill’s best friend.

They were two peas in a pod, Gill and Jake. Both men
went after what they wanted in life, taking the bull by the horns. They were
men; did whatever they could get away with, whenever they felt the urge. Preacher’s
Bend looked the other way when its men wanted a bit of action. It was the women
who suffered for desiring the same courtesy.

Sadly, Julia wanted more than just a little action.
She wanted what others took for granted. She wanted stagnation to burn away, drift
away like a summer mist on a hot morn.

As she ran around a corner that would take her down to
the main street, she slowed her pace then checked her watch. There was a lot to
be said about having a particular goal to achieve for the day, and well before
the sun rose. Her goal had been two miles. She’d done three.

She turned her head, rechecked the traffic (one car, a
big red tractor pulling a load of freshly-baled hay of last night, and the
newspaper boy riding his ten-speed bike in a zigzag pattern across the pavement),
then proceeded onwards toward the house, running at full steam the last half
mile.

Winded, surely red in the face to match the color of
her hair, she bounded the front steps of the boarding house two at a time,
grateful to be back and in one piece.

That’s when she saw him.

His cowboy hat was set on the wrought iron table and he
was seated in …Oh, Sweet Jesus!
Petty’s sacred rocker
!

No one had ever dared since the funeral.

Julia slammed on the brakes, physically backed up,
trying to stand taller than she really was, and eyed the man with the utmost
dread.
Not another boarder
? There wasn’t room for another boarder. She’d
taken up the last bedroom simply to save time and energy of traveling back and
forth from her father’s place. She might have the career and the impending
pension, but she’d not endeavored to find an apartment of her own. Life’s
complications somehow slowed down that quest.

Sunday’s early morning stranger was no more than
thirty-years-old, tops. And he was so damn good looking she could barely take
her eyes off him
.
He was wearing tight fitting faded blue jeans, a clean
pale gray T-shirt, and worn cowboy boots. There was a smile as big as the
plains of Texas on his perfectly shaped lips, and a dangerous twinkle in his
eye as he stared her down.

Although it was on the tip of her tongue to tell this
man to take his smile and his absolutely gorgeous body right off her great-grandmother’s
front porch post haste, she wasn’t a foolish woman. No one in their right mind
could’ve ignored a smile like his for long …
and be sane!

“Howdy.”

Her eyes widened
. Did they still say that these
days?
They must. She just heard it. Or she was having dire hallucinations
at the worst possible moment.

Her eyes drew to the man’s shirt.

‘
Eight seconds is a Whole Lot of Bull to Spread
Your Legs Over!’
Honest-to-God. A shirt like his couldn’t be made up.

So caught up in the suggestive words splayed across his
wide-berth chest, Julia momentarily forgot to breathe. She pulled in deep,
gasping breaths to slow down her rapid heartbeat, trying to focus on the here
and now; regrettably, had to prod the rest of her with a red hot poker to stop
staring at his toned pecs.

He stood up unexpectedly and completely towered over
her height of five-feet-seven, Petty’s rocker eerily moving without a body’s
presence. He was at least six-feet-four, if not a few inches more. And his
eyes? Oh, dear God! His eyes melted Julia into a deep puddle of pure
forgetfulness. Sunshine blue mixed with storm cloud gray. The strangest blue
she’d ever seen. In fact, his eyes were a direct definition to his hair
coloring—golden surfer blond to a ‘T’, if it not for the boots, the shirt, and
the Texan drawl.

She could barely squeak out, “Is there something I can
help you with?” before it became extremely difficult to form any words. Her
usually perfect manners slightly misplaced, she couldn’t help but stare at his
shirt again.

Great-grandma Tressle had always said—repeatedly—it
was kindness that drew the bees to the honey, far better than a dose of bitter
vinegar spilling off the tongue. Petty Tressle had been a huge pile of wisdom,
the dear old coot.
But did she mean this kind of bee? And what kind of honey
would he be looking for, precisely?

“Yes Ma’am. I need a place to lay my weary head for
the coming week. I was told you take in boarders.” His smile was deep and
reassuring; so early on a Sunday morning that it was quite refreshing. She’d
dealt with enough grumpy old men for a week. One more would’ve pissed her off.

Of course she took in boarders. It said so right on
the sign out front, surrounded by an array of summer flowers and a small
American flag she’d found stuck on a shelf in the back of the garage.

But did his voice have to be as sexy as all the rest
of him?

Julia willed her body to pay attention and…
just get
over it!

“I have four boarders already. But come on in. I’m
sure at least one of them is awake by now.” A quick roll of the eyes made to
say otherwise. She’d be mighty surprised if any of those men rose from their
beds before late afternoon.

“And there is supposedly room for five,” she continued.

Although the fire chief said four, and looked the
other way when she’d told the man she would be the fifth, she would sleep on
the couch if it meant this hottie would be inside her house for an entire week.

First, she had to locate the old silver key within the
pot of petunias right in front of him. He seemed not to mind; even gave her the
privacy to dig through the blooms to the point she could get her fingers onto it.

Julia pursed her lips, feeling the fool. So what if
she was lying about there being room for five and she hid house keys in dirt? A
lonely woman did strange things when a man of consequence suddenly falls into
her lap.

She shoved the key in the lock, having a bit of
trouble with uncooperative fingers trying to hold it still, then turned her
head to catch the amusement in his eyes.

“No crime,” she told him as a way to break the ice, and
a way to destroy the thickening tension she felt by his standing so close behind
her. The incredibly handsome man was watching her every move.

“I thought as much by its population sign. Were you
aware they put a cute little note under the sign saying this town was crime
free, nine years and counting?” He crinkled up the corners of his mouth in an
all-out grin that produced two gorgeous dimples on either of his cheeks.

Julia smiled. There was no such sign. He was only
teasing her. Yet, a willful, independent woman had a damn hard time with lowering
her gaze from his face past the lie.

Jesus! Whatever had she done to deserve punishment of
this nature? Wasn’t today supposed to be special? She turned the lock to push
open the door, hurriedly stepping aside to let him through.

“Um, Please? Come on in. I’ll just go and, ah, change.
Get out of these raggedy old clothes.”
Oh, Sweet Jesus! What? And get into
something comfortable and sexier?
She didn’t have anything sexier. This was
about it for her summer wardrobe. Running shorts, sweaty T-shirts and worn out
shoes.

Julia groaned at her thoughts as his smile grew.

She shouldn’t have said what she did; a rather unwise
choice of words for a single woman to announce to a strange man on an early
morning. But normal brain function was slowing down to a barely there crawl. In
another second or two it was likely to come to a complete standstill.

She shook her head and did her best to recover, moving
into her late great-grandmother’s domicile. Ten seconds later, she hightailed
it to one of the two bedrooms located on the first floor, slamming the door
shut.
Lord Have Mercy!
He even smelled as good as he looked; leather, musk,
rich manly scents had pulled at the very core of her being.

Her nose would never be the same again.

She leaned her back against the wall for a few seconds
to catch her breath. There’d been something else besides the leather and musk
she’d gotten a good strong whiff of, though not quite able to put her finger on
just yet, as she got it together, tugged off the sweaty clothes, then traded
them for a clean pair of white cotton shorts and pink T-shirt. At least
her
chosen
shirt had nothing written on it to get the imagination headed in a wrong
direction.

She left her feet bare, opting three miles of pounding
the pavement had gone beyond her physical limits this morning; and perhaps
she’d pushed herself into doing what she shouldn’t have done. She was feeling a
bit lightheaded.

Julia shook off the ill feeling as purely a strong
attraction to a very sexy man, who was now seated in the other room, waiting
for her return. As she retraced her footsteps to the comfort of the Tressle
Boarding House living room, he stood up from one of two floral printed sofas,
looking so out of place. It was apparent he’d made himself right at home. ‘
Come
on in’
must have also initiated a ‘
make yourself right at home’
concept.

Her eyes locked onto his face. He looked tired to her.

“I am sorry about being on your front porch so early on
this beautiful Sunday morn. I tried callin’ the listed phone number. But you
wouldn’t pick up the telephone, Little Darlin’. I figured it best I just sat a
spell and waited for you to come on back. My ride dropped me off without any
regret, I would say.”

He looked to be grimacing at the thought of being
ditched with no way of escape out of
Hicktown, USA.
Julia knew that
feeling well. Preacher’s Bend felt like the ends of the earth and she’d
been born here.

When she smiled, he added more. “And that sweet old
neighbor of yours’ told me you’d gone out for your morning run. She said you’d
be back no later than seven-thirty, as always.” A sinful grin arched his lips
while he eyed the mantle clock that now read seven forty-five.

Julia whipped her head from the telltale clock back to
his face, as the god-awful gorgeous man moved forward, coming to within
inches of her; stood far too close inside what was still a very quiet boarding
house.

Without conscious thought a large step back put a sofa
between her and him. Julia grabbed the upholstery with both hands and gave him
a tentative smile. Reactive measures only.

He stopped his advancement, mistaking these actions
for fear. But Julia’s thoughts had been locked on e
ven my elderly neighbors
are now timing my every move? Turning against me?

Had her father put them up to it? It would certainly
be something Gill Hillard,
Mr
.
Overprotective-Father-of-the-Year,
would
do, just to make damn certain she was okay.

Her hand rose and she barely had the time to pull off
the rubber band from her hair before he spoke.

“I ain’t one to just sit around and wait, Little
Darlin’.” His tone had turned soft and alluring. “I sort of took the liberty to
go on over and ask the old lady. `Course she was a bit standoffish at first, which
probably had something to do with my rather unwise choice of attire.” He
glanced down at what covered his torso, then smiled.

He was babbling. But how could that be?
She
was
the one completely awestruck at his being so hot and steamy—and here!

Her fingers re-dug into the back of the sofa to steady
her legs, while
Eight Second Wonder of the World
openly smiled at her.

“I’m sure it was,” she acknowledged. “The ‘had
something to do with your shirt’ part. Mrs. Darcey is a bit old-fashioned…and a
bit
standoffish
.”

Most of her elderly neighbors were. Either set in
their ways, or just plain pain in the asses. It came with being elderly and
living their entire lives in one place, never leaving for bigger and better
things, in a world filled with bigger and better things.

Jeez! She should talk. Bigger and better was out there.
Julia was too chicken to go out there and get it, that’s all.