A Real Cowboy Never Walks Away (Wyoming Rebels Book 4) (8 page)

"
T
hanks
." Lissa flashed Travis a distracted smile, even as she started walking toward the door to unlock it. She pulled her shoulders back, but her tension was obvious.

Lissa, his weary, adorable, genuine Lissa, was afraid of the man at her door, which meant he'd hurt her in the past, or was there to hurt her now. Fucking piece of shit. Anger roiled through Travis, and his fists bunched as he narrowed his eyes.

The bastard wasn't going to hurt her tonight. Not with him there.

He was always aware of his role as Travis Turner, the celebrity who had to watch his reputation at all moments, but Lissa had awakened something in him, something primal and male, something that thundered through him, like a violent summer storm amassing on a hot summer night, swirling and angry, ready to destroy, possess, and consume.

Right now, he didn't care about his reputation. He didn't give a shit if he broke rules. All he knew was the one woman on this entire earth who'd been real with him, was walking toward a man with the power to hurt her, and Travis was her only defense.

No one had been around to defend him when he was little, and he had the scars to prove it. There was no chance in hell he was walking away from this situation, no matter how ugly it got.

He was used to ugly. He was born into ugly, and it had haunted him his entire life, even after he left town. If this thing got ugly, it would be like coming home to the world he knew. The world he hated, but the world he knew.

Travis walked into the middle of the café, faced the door, and folded his arms over his chest. Waiting. Ready. Visible. As Lissa reached for the lock to open it, a familiar darkness settled over Travis, the darkness that had gotten him thrown in jail as a youth, the darkness that kept him hammering on his punching bag for hours at a time, the darkness that had been a legacy from his father, the darkness that made him a threat to anyone who came too close.

The darkness that stalked him every second of his life.

He'd never defeated it, but he'd managed to suppress it...until now.

Until Lissa McIntyre had awakened it, and the man at her door had unleashed it.

Country music superstar Travis Turner couldn't afford for this to get ugly.

Piece-of-shit wrong-side-of-the-tracks Travis Stockton was hoping it would, because right now, he felt more alive than he had in a long time. He wasn't going to lie. It felt good to care again.

Damn good.

* * *

N
ine years
.

It had been almost
nine
years since Lissa had seen the man standing at her window.

Nine years since he'd betrayed her so badly that she'd almost never recovered.

It had been so long that she'd stopped thinking that someday he'd show up again. She'd rebuilt herself, her world, and her future. She'd shut him out of her heart, tried to glue the shattered pieces of her soul back together...and now he was back.

Lissa had a sudden instinct to fix her hair, to brush the flour off her shirt, to somehow make herself look so amazing that he'd regret, for even a split second, walking out on her, but it was too late. Too late for everything when it came to Rand Stevens.

She paused with her hand on the door handle and took a deep breath, so aware of Travis standing behind her, so glad he was there.

Why was Rand here? After all this time? Why... A sudden thought struck her. Dear God, what if he'd come for Bridgette? Fear knifed through her, and for a split second, she couldn't breathe. Her legs seemed to give out, and her fingers slipped off the door handle—

"Hey." Travis caught her, his strong arms sliding around her waist. "I got you."

Lissa closed her eyes and leaned back against his chest, gripping his forearms as she fought to breathe, but no air would come.

Travis leaned his head against hers, his cheek resting against hers. "It's okay, Lissa. I won't leave. I'm staying right here. I've got your back, okay?"

She squeezed her eyes shut, listening to his whispered words. His voice was deep and gentle, encircling her like a protective shield. His arms tightened around her, wrapping intimately around her waist, pulling her back against his chest, a solid, impenetrable wall of muscle. Panic swirled through her, and she started to shake. "I can't do this," she whispered.

"I'll make him leave." Travis's voice was short and clipped, laced with a dark, barely contained violence that sent chills rippling down her spine.

She froze, startled by the change in him, by the deadly rage pouring through him. Gone was the man who'd touched her face so gently. In its place was a predator ready to strike. She twisted in his arms to look at him. Her stomach lurched when she saw the darkness in his eyes, the hard set to his jaw. He looked like a man ready to destroy anyone who got in his way.

She should be scared, but she wasn't. Somehow, she knew she was safe from that anger, protected from that rage. He'd never use it against her...but he would use it to protect her. This man she barely knew had somehow assigned himself the role of her protector, and she knew he wouldn't back down, no matter what.

The tightness around her chest eased, and she reached up to lay a hand on his cheek. "Thank you," she whispered.

His gaze flicked to hers, and his eyes narrowed as he studied her face. "Who is he?" he asked.

She lifted her chin. "No one who matters," she said fiercely, determinedly.

Rand thudded his fist against the glass, making her jump. "Lissa!" His harsh shout raked down her spine, and she closed her eyes again, focusing solely on the feel of Travis against her. She'd spent the last nine years developing her own reservoir of strength, and she'd thought she'd succeeded, but right now, she felt lost, shuttled back to who she'd been back then. Afraid. Alone. Rejected. Desperate. Ashamed. Shunned.

Travis tightened his grip on her. "I'll talk to him."

She wanted to step away and let Travis deal with this, to let him chase away the darkness that haunted her, but she knew Rand would simply come back another time, when she was alone. He would hunt her down until she faced him. "No." She stayed Travis with a hand to his arm. "I have to do this."

She pulled herself out of his arms and swung around to the door. She flipped the deadbolt and pulled the door open, bringing her face to face with the man who had been everything to her once, and then nothing.

The stench of alcohol hit her first, and she knew he'd been drinking.

He was taller and broader than he had been when she'd last seen him. His cowboy hat was tipped back, revealing a hard jaw, high cheekbones, and the same piercing green eyes he'd always had. A few scars decorated his face now, and his heavily muscled frame gave him the aura of an unstoppable opponent. She could tell he was insanely strong, even more than before, and there was no mistaking the expensive watch on his wrist. Bull riding had been good to him. He'd left as a scrawny eighteen-year-old with big dreams, and he'd turned into a man, strong, dangerous, and hardened. She took a deep breath. "Rand."

His gaze raked over her, the blatantly sexual inspection making nausea churn in her belly.

She folded her arms over her chest and stood taller.

"So," he drawled, the faintest slur in his voice. "Ran into some guys tonight who said they had a hot waitress named Lissa. Thought I'd check it out." His smile faded, and he met her gaze. "Turns out, it's you."

She lifted her chin. "Yes, it is."

He stepped forward, his gaze raking over her body a second time, as if he wanted to assess every inch of her. "It's been a long time, Lis."

Her skin crawled at his use of her old nickname. "Yes, it has. The café is closed, though, so I don't have time to visit. It was good to see you." She stepped back, out of the doorway, so she could close it, but he jammed his foot in the door.

"What? No hug?" He swayed slightly, his slurred voice becoming more belligerent.

She stiffened, her heart starting to pound. "The store is closed. I'm tired. You've been drinking. You need to leave."

"That's how you treat the man you almost married? Let me in." His face darkened, and he moved closer, his hand going to the door above her head, as if he was going to grab it and force it open.

Travis grabbed the door first, his body brushing against her back as he moved up behind her. "The lady said she was closed."

Rand's gaze snapped to Travis, and sudden tension rose fast and hard as the two men stared at each other. "Who the fuck are you?"

"Name's Stockton. Travis Stockton."

Rand's eyes narrowed. "You the brother of Zane Stockton, the bull rider? One of those Stocktons?"

"Yeah," Travis replied, his voice deceptively mild. "He's the nice one, though."

Lissa had met Zane enough times to know what Travis meant. Zane rode a Harley, had plenty of tattoos, and walked around with a massive chip on his shoulder, ready to fight anyone...except when his wife was with him. The way he looked at her was enough to make any woman sigh with longing. It was pure adoration, protection, and admiration. She had a feeling that Zane's days on the bull riding tour hadn't brought out his nurturing side, so for Travis to claim Zane was nicer than him was a thinly veiled warning to Rand to back off.

She couldn't help but grin. She didn't ask people to fight her battles for her, but there was something a little enjoyable about having a tall, muscular cowboy at her back, making it clear that he would challenge Rand if he pushed too far.

"Never liked him much," Rand scoffed, apparently not impressed by Travis's warning.

Travis shrugged. "Doubt he cares."

"What are you doing in Lissa's place?" Rand asked, the challenge evident in his voice.

There was a long moment of silence, and Lissa felt the tension rise even further. The two men were circling, preparing for some kind of alpha male battle. She knew what Rand was like. It would get ugly fast. "Rand," she interjected, trying to draw his attention back to her. "What do you want?"

Rand ignored her, staring at Travis, his expression belligerent, as only a nasty drunk could get. "I asked what you were doing in her place." Rand said again.

Lissa gritted her teeth. She hadn't meant to get Travis involved in her mess. She'd just wanted him there in case things had become more than she could handle. "Travis, it's okay—"

"No, it's not." Travis slid his arm around her shoulder, sliding his forearm across her chest, diagonally between her breasts and pulled her back against him. "Lissa is under my protection." His voice was quiet and low, but laced with such threat that even Rand's eyes widened.

Again, chills raced down Lissa's spine. Travis was so much more than a man who could flip burgers. He was casual and fun, but she realized there was something else to him, something dark, something dangerous.

Rand stared at Travis for a long moment. "What does that mean?"

Lissa tried again to defuse the situation. "Seriously, guys, just stop—"

Travis's fingers dug into her arm. "She's with me," he said quietly.

With him? She jerked around to look at him, startled by the fierce possessiveness in his eyes. There was no doubting what he'd meant to imply. "Travis—"

"You?" Rand snorted in disbelief. "There's no chance she's dating you."

She opened her mouth to deny it, but then she saw the possessive glare in Rand's bleary eyes. The disbelief, the certainty that she would never be able to get a man like Travis, a man who was clearly attractive, articulate, and impressive. The realization struck fiercely, blindsiding her, thrusting her back into the past when everyone who looked at her saw only trash that was worth nothing. Rand still saw her that way, as someone who would be waiting for him after almost nine years, because she couldn't do any better than that.

"Be very, very careful what you say about her." Travis's voice was cold, icy cold. "I protect what's mine, and I don't care for what you're implying."

Lissa's throat tightened at his defense of her, and her denial died in her throat. She couldn't tell Rand the truth, that she was alone, and had been alone since he'd left. The smugness in his eyes was too much, the reminder of how people had looked at her every day of her life, until she'd moved away from the town that knew her.

Rand's brows went up, and he looked back at Lissa with new interest. "So, you got yourself a man. I don't see a ring, though."

Lissa pressed her lips together, as her chest tightened at the insult that had been cast her way too many times. The slut, sleeping around, daughter of the trashy whore, a girl you'd fuck but never date. Heat burned in her cheeks, but this time, it wasn't the shame that had tainted her throughout her youth. It was anger, white-hot untamed
fury
that he dared to treat her like that. "Get out of my café, Rand," she snapped, her voice cold. "You're not welcome."

He made no move to leave. Instead, he leered at her. "You look good, Lis."

Travis's arm tightened around her, and she lifted her chin. "Good night." She started to push the door shut, but he slammed his hand on the glass.