Texas Pride (6 page)

She tasted like no other woman. Intoxicating. Exciting. The passion shimmered between them, and he ground his mouth against hers. Her lips parted and he explored the sweetness of her with his tongue. She met him, tentatively at first, then dropped her shoes to the ground, slid her arms around his shoulders and rose on tiptoe.

Intense pleasure, as well as shock, coursed through Jessica. She clung to Dylan, shocked by her brazen response to his kiss. This was like nothing she'd ever experienced before. Her bones felt as if they were melting. Her heart raced. An inexplicable tightness knotted and unknotted in her belly. His large hands cupped her bottom and pulled her fully against his arousal. She moaned softly, needing to be closer still.

Suddenly he released her, and she stumbled back against the cab of the truck. Confused, she stared at him, her breathing heavy and uneven. His face was hard as he stared back; his eyes glinted fiercely.

“That's what you need protection from,” he said darkly. “Men like me.”

Dylan turned and walked away, knowing that if he looked back there'd be nothing on this earth that could stop him from taking this woman to his bed.

But Jessica wasn't a one-night woman. She deserved much better than that. She sure deserved better than him.

He kept walking, away from the hotel, away from her, and didn't stop until he reached the barn at the far edge of town. He drew in a deep breath, letting his blood cool as he raked his hands through his hair. Then he went very still.

Someone was watching him. He knew it. Slowly he turned and stared into the dark shadows in the barn.

One of them moved toward him. Out of the barn and into the moonlight.

It was Jared.

The two men looked at each other for a long moment.

“Well, that was certainly something I never thought I'd see,” Jared said.

Guilt held Dylan speechless as he stared at Jared.

“I mean, who would have ever thought, Dylan Grant, at my engagement party.”

Dylan let out the breath he'd been holding.

A slow grin started on Jared. Dylan grinned back.

“Nice to see you again, buddy,” Jared said.

“Likewise,” Dylan returned.

With a small laugh, they shook hands and slapped their arms around each other.

J
ared stepped back, and the moon cast long eerie shadows into the darkness. “Where's Jessica?” he asked quietly, glancing over Dylan's shoulder.

Probably extensively cursing the name Dylan Grant.
“She went to bed. I just thought I'd check things out around town before I turned in.”

“And that dog of hers?”

“She keeps Hannibal inside with her at night.”

Jared looked around cautiously, making sure they were alone, then faced Dylan again. “Thanks for coming.”

Both men knew that thanks weren't necessary. They'd been through too much together. “I'd seen enough Venezuelan jungles to last me awhile, anyway. It was time to come back to the States.”

Not home, Dylan thought. He'd never had a place he'd ever thought of as home. “Besides—” he grinned “—I had to meet the woman that tamed the infamous Jared Stone. Now that I have, I can't figure out what an incredible lady like Annie is doing with the likes of you.”

“I haven't figured it out myself, pal.” Jared's face softened as he looked at Dylan. “We're having a baby next June.”

An old hurt threatened to surface, but Dylan forced it down. He wouldn't let his past take away from the pleasure of his friend's happiness. “The first of many, I hope,” Dylan said, and shook Jared's hand again.

Both Dylan and Jared tensed at the hoot of a barn owl, then laughed softly and moved around the corner of the barn into the shadows. Jared's truck was parked a few feet away, out of sight of the hotel.

Propping one boot against an old wooden water trough, Jared folded his arms and leaned back against the weathered barn. “So what do you think of Jess?”

Dylan thought it best not to go with the first answer that came to mind. He wanted to wear his teeth, not carry them. “I think she's going to be mighty ticked off if she finds out you and Jake asked me to come here and take this job so I could keep an eye on her.”

“So she doesn't suspect anything?”

Dylan shook his head. “You almost had me convinced you didn't know me when she introduced us yesterday. She thinks Jake invited me tonight so the two of you could interrogate me further.”

“I laid it on a little thick,” Jared admitted. “But if I hadn't, Jess would've wondered.”

“She asked me about South America tonight,” Dylan said. “There was a spark of connection in her eyes.”

Jared frowned. “We'll just have to be careful. Even Annie's been watching me as if she thinks something's up.”

“She doesn't know about any of this?”

Jared gave a snort of laughter. “I couldn't tell Annie any more than Jake could tell Savannah. These women hang together. They might think it was deceitful.”

Dylan couldn't help but grin. “It
is
deceitful.”

Jared shrugged. “But necessary. Jessica's too damn trusting. She wouldn't know a bad guy if he stuck a sign on his forehead and introduced himself.”

Like me,
Dylan thought. He'd given her a good example of a bad guy himself tonight, and the thought left him with a sour taste. “Why don't you tell me exactly what's going on here?”

Jared hunkered down and picked up a small piece of splintered wood, then drew a rectangle in the dirt. “Stone Creek is about one hundred thousand acres. This is Jessica's land, mine is east of here—” he divided the rectangle into smaller boxes “—Jake's is north, and Emma's is east of Jake's. Myrna's house sits smack-dab in the middle.”

“Jessica told me your father left Myrna no land.”

Jared nodded. “She's been trying to buy our land since the will was read. First Jake's, then mine. We both had strange accidents, potentially tragic. We caught the guy responsible for Jake's problems. He's in jail, but refuses to implicate anyone else. We suspect he's been paid well enough by someone else to do the time. The man who tried to sabotage my rig got away before we could question him.”

“You think he'll be back?”

“No. But I think whoever hired these guys will try something with Jessica. She's an easy target out here by herself.”

“Do you think Myrna's involved?”

Jared sighed. “I don't know. My stepmother has done a lot of selfish things, but it's hard to believe she'd go this far or actually hurt anyone.”

“So who, other than Myrna, would gain from this land?”

“It's good ranch land. I struck oil a few weeks ago. Jessica's parcel is closest to the highway, and there's been some talk of an airport being built west of here somewhere.”

“So just about everyone,” Dylan said, shaking his head. “And Sam? Stone Creek land would be valuable to a neighboring ranch.”

“Sam would never hurt Jessica,” Jared said. “He's crazy about her.”

A knot of irritation tightened in Dylan's stomach. He refused to allow himself to think about the rancher and Jessica. He'd gotten in enough trouble with that already tonight. “Myrna mentioned there were some people in Cactus Flat opposed to Jessica's youth center. Are you expecting trouble there?”

“I don't know.” Jared tossed down the stick and stood. “Just keep your eyes open, pal. It could be anybody.”

Dylan nodded grimly and straightened.

“We're also going to have to be careful that Jessica doesn't find out about our arrangement,” Jared added. “Annie and Savannah will be widows, and Lord only knows what she'll do to you.”

Considering Jessica's imagination, her retribution was a scary thought, Dylan decided. “We'll just have to make sure she doesn't find out, then, won't we?”

Jared nodded. “Thanks again for coming, Dylan. There's no one I trust more than you to take care of my little sister.”

“I think I can survive a few weeks in a ghost town,” Dylan said. “I'd be rotting in a South American prison if it wasn't for you.”

Grim-faced, Jared shook his head. “That was a raw deal you got. Everyone on that rig knew it was the operations manager who killed that girl in the hit-and-run.”

“But you were the only one who did anything about it.” Dylan looked at Jared. “You could have lost your job, too, or even ended up in the cell next to mine.”

“I didn't give a damn about the job, and there was no jail worse than the one I put myself in after my brother died and I'd convinced myself I could never be with Annie,” Jared said quietly. “But now that we're together and the baby is coming, I sure am glad that you and I both got out of there.”

They were quiet for a moment, remembering. It was a past neither man wanted to dwell on.

“Speaking of getting out—” Jared looked around “—I'd better go. If Jessie sees us, that jail cell might not look so bad, after all.”

They said good-night, then Jared got into his truck and drove away. Dylan watched the taillights until they disappeared into the night, then turned and started back to the hotel. He thought of Jessica there, lying in bed, her long slender body stretched across the sheets. His hands and throat tightened at the image.

Jared's words echoed in Dylan's mind.
There's no one I trust more than you to take care of my little sister.

Didn't Jared realize that his “little sister” was a full-grown woman? A damn sexy one. He had to know that any man would want to take Jessica to bed.

Of course he knew, Dylan thought with a heavy sigh. That was why Jared had called him. Because he trusted him, not only to keep Jessica safe, but to keep his distance. And Dylan knew he'd already betrayed that trust.

He stared up at the brilliant half-moon overhead. He heard the lonely howl of a coyote, and the scent of mesquite filled the cool night air.

And suddenly the stifling humidity and primitive conditions of the mosquito-infested jungles of South America were damn appealing.

* * *

Jessica was checking on a tray of biscuits in the oven of the hotel's antique cast-iron wood-burning stove when Dylan finally made his appearance the next morning. Hannibal jumped up from the corner he'd settled into and padded over to greet him.

Traitor,
she thought, watching as Hannibal wagged his tail. She glanced casually at Dylan, noting that his dark hair was slicked back, still damp from the shower, his clean denim shirt rolled to the elbows. He hadn't shaved, and the rugged look, combined with his jeans and work boots, was pure male.

Her heart skipped and she swore silently. She was tired and stressed and cranky as hell, but she was also determined not to let the man know he had even the slightest effect on her.

His expression was one of amazement as he stood in the doorway and glanced around the kitchen. She'd been up cleaning the room since well before dawn. After five hours of tossing and turning, she'd needed something to do. The hardwood floors were swept clean, the butcher-block counters and iron sink spotless.

“Mornin',” he said.

It was a cautious greeting.
Good,
she thought. After the way he'd kissed her, then left her standing alone last night, he'd better be cautious. She hated the fact that even now her knees were weak and her hands were trembling. “Morning.”

He moved slowly into the room, obviously testing the waters. “Is that bacon or sausage I smell?”

She shut the oven door, but kept the pot holder in her hand so she'd have something to hold on to. “Both.”

Both? Dylan couldn't believe it. How angry could Jessica be with him if she'd prepared such a lavish breakfast? If anything, he'd expected a cool nod as she handed him his walking papers.

Could he have misread her response to him last night? he wondered. She'd clung to him, as eager for him as he was for her. All night he kept hearing that soft little moan of hers. Needless to say, it had been a hard night.

He watched her calmly pour a cup of steaming coffee into a mug. Maybe the kiss hadn't meant anything to her, after all, he thought with more irritation than he understood. Hell, if she could dismiss it so easily, then so could he. It was nothing. A simple kiss. No big deal.

Okay, so fine. It certainly made life easier. He was glad that Jessica was a woman who didn't overreact. Now he could enjoy his breakfast and forget about last night. Good.

“Sugar?”

He glanced at her. “Excuse me?”

“You want sugar or cream?” she asked.

“Oh.” He shook his head. “No. Just black, thanks.”

She set the coffee on the table and gestured for him to sit. She'd pulled her hair into a ponytail, but several strands had pulled loose and circled her flour-smudged heart-shaped face. The white chef's apron she wore over her jeans and blue plaid shirt looked as if she'd been cooking for a week.

Unbidden, desire flared, and he quickly shoved it back down. It wasn't as if she was wearing silk or lace, for God's sake, but he still couldn't remember when a woman had ever looked sexier.

“You got this old stove working by yourself?” he asked, forcing his mind in another direction.

Jessica turned back to the stove. “After I cleaned out the chimney flue and found some firewood.”

She must have been up hours ago to have accomplished all she had and fixed breakfast, also. He felt a pang of guilt for forcing her into cooking, but tamped down the feeling when his stomach growled. After all, a man had to eat. And the incredible aromas of bacon, fresh-baked biscuits and coffee had his mouth watering already.

He noticed she had only one place set. “You aren't eating?”

She took the biscuits out of the oven and set them on the table, then lifted a cast-iron frying pan off the stove and moved beside him. “I don't normally eat breakfast. Eggs?”

He smiled broadly. “Thanks.”

She scooped up a ladleful and slapped it on his plate.

His smile froze as he stared at the unrecognizable yellow and gray lumps.

“They started off fried,” she said, “went to scrambled and ended up foozled.”

His smile began to fade. “Foozled?”

“Foozled. You know, whatever.”

He watched as she dropped something dark brown and round beside the eggs. It hit the plate like a rock. In fact, Dylan thought, it
looked
like a rock. What he thought might be bacon came next, but there were too many small black pieces to be sure.

“I haven't quite gotten used to the temperature control,” she said casually. “But for my first attempt, I think it's pretty good.”

Pretty good?
She wasn't serious. She couldn't be. She waved a hand at him. “Go on,” she said, “don't be shy.”

He decided to start with a biscuit. They looked safe, anyway. He reached for one. It was hot and steaming as he took a bite.

And nearly broke a tooth.

“I burned the first two batches,” she said. “I guess the third time's a charm.”

He managed to gnaw off a small bite. It had all the charm and chewability of a fence post. “Something wrong?” she asked sweetly as he attempted to chew.

He shook his head and reached for his coffee. The hot liquid might soak the hard chunk in his mouth enough so he could swallow. He took a sip, then froze.

Mistake. Big mistake.

Mouth full, unable to speak, he narrowed his eyes and stared at Jessica. She stared back innocently.

Enough was enough.

Jessica saw the fury building in Dylan's eyes, but she was having too much fun to care. Cheeks puffed out, he slammed both hands on the table and stood. She moved out of the way when he walked to the counter. She bit the side of her mouth to keep from laughing when he spit the coffee and biscuit into the sink.

“Really, Dylan.” She folded her arms. “You don't have to be so rude.”

He reached for a cup in the cupboard and poured water into it from a carafe of water sitting on the counter. He rinsed his mouth and spit again, grounds filling the sink.

“My survival depended on it,” he returned sharply, spitting several more times.