Cowgirl Crazy (#2, Cowboy Way) (18 page)

“
Twyla, please open the door,” he
repeated, his voice hoarse from calling her name.

This was the last time he’d try. Ryan knew
he’d be better off beating his head on the door than continuing to
try to get her to listen to him. He’d been at this almost an hour
now. Since Heather left to go to her dance studio, after they had
final heated words that almost ended with a cowboy boot in his
crotch. That woman was a pistol, and any man who tried to tame that
one had his work cut out for him. Almost as much work as Ryan had
for himself with Twyla.

Some battles were better left for another day
though. This was one of them. He had to get back to the circuit
tomorrow, and she was going to do what she damned well pleased
anyway. Hanging around wasn’t going to get him anywhere. From past
experience he knew letting her cool off was probably his best
option at the moment. His next break was in two weeks. Ryan would
come back then and try again to convince her to quit that damned
bar. That was probably the most he could hope for, because he
didn’t think he was ever going to convince her to come back with
him.

He thought he’d made a little progress there,
but that two-minute argument with Twyla and Heather had undone any
headway he’d made with Twyla. He’d shot off his mouth before he
thought about what he was saying, then stuffed his foot in his
mouth to boot. Insulting both women at the same time had been
taking his life into his hands, he realized now.

“
I’m sorry, Twy—I’m leaving now,
but I’ll call to check on you,” he mumbled as he pushed away from
the door. Heaving a sigh, Ryan gathered up his stuff, and finished
dressing. He grabbed his wallet from the dresser, and his heart
skidded to a stop at seeing the condom wrapper sitting on the
dresser beside it. Good God, that last time they made love in the
kitchen on the counter, he hadn’t worn a condom. Hadn’t even
thought about it. His head rocked back on his shoulders and he
sucked in a sharp breath through his nose. It came out in a rush,
as he massaged his pounding temples. “I’m a fucking moron,” he
grated as he shoved the wallet into his back pocket. “A total
complete idiot.”

Ryan had never forgotten before.

It was something he remembered religiously.
Hell, he kept almost a gross of them behind his seat in the truck.
He didn’t want a kid, and he didn’t want something that wouldn’t be
cured in nine months either. That was something his old man had
taught him before he left them, the only thing really. Ryan found
out later there was a reason for his expertise on the subject that
he passed on to a fourteen-year-old boy. He was a serial cheater, a
man who had slept with everything that had two legs and a split.
That accidental knowledge about his father’s activities had come to
him through his stepfather, who said at least he didn’t cheat, when
Ryan confronted him about hitting his mother.

Like that made the black eye she sported that
day, a lot of days, okay.

The old anger dredged up from deep inside him
to wash through his body. His fingers flexed wanting to feel that
bastard’s throat under his hands again like he had the day he
almost killed him. The day his mother told him not to come back
around. That day she had chosen between them. She chose to have a
relationship with a man who beat the living hell out of her on a
daily basis rather than her eighteen-year-old son who had only been
trying to protect her. At the time it hadn’t made any sense to him,
and it still didn’t. Relationships were the luck of the draw, and
his mother had drawn two deuces, but she decided to play
them.

That is why Ryan chose not to get involved in
the mess that came with relationships. He stuck to temporary women
who could give him temporary relief. Last night though, he knew
beyond a shadow of a doubt, he had stepped off into uncharted
territory with Twyla. He did have feelings for her, he just didn’t
know what they were. The possibility of him having some kind of
non-familial relationship with her now had tickled his brain, but
Ryan planned on taking one day at a time to see where things went,
while he sorted out those feelings, and she untangled the mess
she’d made of her life. Both would take time.

If Twyla turned up pregnant though, that plan
would change quickly. The sand would rush to the bottom of the
hourglass. Ryan would marry her, and do the right thing. That’s
what the only family he’d ever, her family, had taught him to do,
would expect of him. What he expected of himself, because he cared
about her and the family.

At the moment though, the right thing was to
give her some space to get over her temper, and get his ass back in
the saddle. Once he thought she’d cooled down, he’d try to call
her. If she didn’t take his call, on his next break he’d be back
down here to try again, and find out if anything had taken root
from his stupid mistake.

That was all he could do.

CHAPTER
TWELVE

During a break between rounds in Amarillo,
their second stop on the circuit since he’d left Twyla a week ago,
Ryan found an empty corner in the locker room, to make his third
call to Heather’s apartment. Twyla didn’t have a damned cell phone,
so he had to call Heather’s apartment. It was the only number he
had for her. Ryan was going to rectify that situation when he went
back to Dallas. He needed to be able to get ahold of her, and she
needed to be able to make a call in case she needed help. Lord,
just the thought that she might need help and not be able to call
for it sent cold chills zipping down his spine.

Maybe he should tell Zack. Or her
family.

It was bad enough when she was living there
with Heather, but now she was really alone, in an apartment by
herself, and she was still dancing at that bar. At least Heather
had half a lick of sense about protecting herself. Ryan could
attest to that firsthand. But Twyla was naïve and unsophisticated,
not used to taking care of herself, because she’d always had him
and Zack watching out for her. When it came to men, and what they
were capable of, Twyla didn’t have a clue. Ryan had a clue, and so
did his mother. Zack knew too, because his best friend was the only
person on the planet he’d talked to about it. Which could be part
of the reason he’d always sheltered Twyla like he had. They both
had.

Dancing in that bar, there was no telling what
kind of man could attach himself to her. Just thinking about the
many things that could happen gave him cold sweats at night. Or it
could be the damned dreams giving him cold sweats. Every time he
shut his eyes, which hadn’t been often since he left her, because
those hot moments in Heather’s apartment kept replaying in his mind
like a broken record, he saw her face as she came, heard her
delicious moans. In his dreams though, that slick shooting
instructor’s face was the one he saw on the man making love to
Twyla, not his own.

His heart jerked in his chest as he punched
out Heather’s number on his cell phone. He slammed the phone to his
ear and heard it ringing. Heather telling him, “She’s doing fine,
and I’ll tell her you called,” wasn’t going to cut it this time.
Heather was going to get Twyla to call him back, or he was going to
Dallas. Ryan felt someone walk up behind him, and turned to see
Zack lean a hip against the row of lockers and cross his arms over
his chest. Wouldn’t you know he would show up at just that moment,
Heather’s impatient voice came over the line? His luck had
definitely gone south, and not only with his riding since Twyla
left.

After a huffed breath, Heather started in
with, “Look Ryan, your apology might’ve worked with me, because I
really don’t give a shit what you think of me, but I can’t make her
call you. I’ve told her you called. That’s all I can do. Now, I’m
going to hang up, because I’m busy trying to get ready for a
gig.”

Ryan dragged his eyes from Zack’s interested
blue gaze, and turned to face the wall. “
Wait
! Can you at
least go by there and check on her?” he said, then covered his
mouth to whisper into the phone. “I’m worried about her. I really
need to talk to her.” What Ryan was worried about, he definitely
couldn’t be saying out loud with Zack standing behind him. “Um,
how’s her apartment? How’s the job and her shooting lessons?”
Has she started her period?

“
She’s fine. The job’s fine. I
haven’t seen the apartment yet. She and Randy are not seeing each
other as far as I know. I know that’s what your real question is,”
Heather said with a dry laugh. “And if it will get you to stop
calling, yes, I’ll stop by on my way out.”

The tension in Ryan’s shoulders eased a
little. Heather definitely wasn’t the one he’d choose to go by and
do a welfare check on Twyla, that was sort of like sending a fox to
check the hen house, but she was his only choice. “Can you call me
back and let me know she’s okay? I’ll probably be riding, but you
can leave a message.”

Heather sighed, and he could imagine her
rolling her green eyes. “I’ll leave a message, but don’t call me
again. I have a lot on my plate, without playing go between. If
you’re that damned worried, get your butt down here and find out
for yourself how she’s doing.”

The line disconnected, before he could even
mutter thank you.

Go to Dallas is exactly what he was going to
do in six days and ten hours. He turned back toward Zack, and his
friend was still there, but his look had changed from interested to
concerned. “Why the hell are you so worried about Twyla? That’s the
second time I’ve caught you sneaking off to call to check on her.
You said she had a job at a burger joint, and was taking shooting
lessons. How much trouble could she get into?”

More than you could ever imagine
. Blood
shot up to Ryan’s face and it felt like it was on fire, as he
stammered, “I’m just worried because she’s so damned green about
men.”
A lot less green than before I paid her a visit
. His
heart took a sick dive to his toes. “You know how guys are.”
Guys like him
.
Or worse, guys like his stepfather.
Ryan fought off a shiver, and shoved his phone into his
pocket.

Zack’s brows slammed down over his eyes, and
his arms fell to his sides. “Was she seeing someone while you were
there?”

Seeing someone? No, but she was having sex
with me
. Ryan’s blood rushed to follow his heart to his toes,
making him a little dizzy.

Zack’s eyes narrowed. “Is there something
you’re not telling me, bro?”

Only that I slept with your sister, and
would do it again, if given the opportunity. Oh, and the little
fact that she’s dancing at a bar. Other than that no
. Good God,
Ryan had lied to the man he thought of as a brother. Something he’d
never done before. That man’s sister was into all kinds of things
she shouldn’t be, and Ryan couldn’t tell him, or do a damned thing
to stop her from doing those things. And now he was going to have
to lie again.

“
Um, no,” his voice cracked and he
cleared his throat. “Twy was fine.” He used Heather’s tactic, and
it evidently worked, because Zack’s face relaxed.

“
Well, that’s good then, because
you only have five minutes to get ready for your ride, dude.” Zack
put his arm around Ryan’s shoulder and slapped his back. “You’re up
first next round. That’s why I was surprised when you ran off. We
need to check-in at the pens, or they’ll scratch you.”

The last thing Ryan wanted to do was ride
right now, unless he was riding a wild ass cowgirl he couldn’t get
off his mind, he thought as he walked back to the arena with
Zack.

***

Twyla reached beside her to fumble blindly for
the half-empty Twinkie box on the floor. It was one of those
Twinkie kind of days today. Had been for the last couple of days.
When she needed it most, her tips at the bar Saturday night hadn’t
been good, and Leon wasn’t happy. Twyla just couldn’t seem to find
any sexy to put into her routines these days. Because she wasn’t
feeling very sexy, not that she ever had. She was feeling dirty.
Because Ryan had made her feel that way. Tried to make Heather feel
that way too, but her friend just didn’t care what he or anyone
else thought. Twyla wished she could manage that.

Even though it was all an act that Heather had
helped her perfect, like she had perfected her own, to make
ridiculously easy money to help her follow her dreams, Twyla felt
dirty and cheap now when she danced. She wasn’t anymore a stripper
than Heather was, or that kind of dancer, but Randy thought she
was. Because of Ryan.

At their shooting lessons now, Randy was
treating her like she had the clap. It had become obvious there
wasn’t a snowball’s chance in hell now he’d ask her out again after
what Ryan told him. Randy didn’t even look at her the same now. He
left after they finished the lessons like his ass was on
fire.

Stuffy, judgmental asshole.

Even if she was a stripper, that wasn’t any
way to treat someone you’d asked out not a week ago. But something
else was bothering her more. Although it pissed her off to admit
it, she was missing the hell out of Ryan. Since he left a week ago,
she had intentionally refused to talk to him, trying to get on her
way to forgetting him, but she was paying the price. Twyla wondered
if the heartsick feeling in her gut would ever go away.

Heather said he’d called her apartment a
couple of times looking for her, but Twyla hadn’t found the
gumption to call him back. If he gave her more of the same that
he’d given her while he was there, she’d get more pissed off at
him. Might never want to talk to him again. Twyla didn’t want to
end up hating him, because she became so frustrated. Hell, after
ten years of it, she was surprised she wasn’t already at that
point. But dammit she wasn’t.