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Authors: Kimberly Raye

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BOOK: Red-Hot Texas Nights
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“What I need is to find Kenny Roy.” One last glance at the two men on the porch and she swung the nose of the car out into the street and stepped on the gas. Gravel spewed and the massive hunk of metal bolted forward.

“We could swing by the VFW Hall. It's Friday night. He could be making a delivery to the domino club. They like to add a little kick to their punch while they play.”

“And talk to him in front of the biggest gossips in town?” Brandy shook her head. “I'll stop back by later. Maybe he'll be home.”

Hopefully.

Her heart kicked up a beat and her hands trembled.

At the prospect of finding Kenny Roy.

She certainly wasn't getting anxious because Tyler McCall was back in town.

Her gaze went to the rearview mirror and the headlights that sliced through the darkness and settled behind her.

Ellie glanced behind and a smile tugged at her lips. “So what's the scoop on you and Mr. FB?” she asked as she settled back into her seat. “How did you meet?”

“And here I thought the biggest gossips were over at the VFW Hall.”

Ellie shrugged. “So I like to get the scoop.”

“And spread it around.”

“That, too, but I'm due. I've been the object of my fair share of gossip and now it's my turn.” She glanced at Brandy. “Tit for tat, you know.”

Boy, did she ever. That's why she and Ellie had become friends as well as co-workers. While Ellie wasn't from Rebel, she hailed from a nearby small town and with her good looks and casual attitude when it came to men, she'd learned early on what it was like to have folks talk about her. Yep, Ellie was a kindred soul. The only difference is Ellie had earned her reputation. She wore tank tops and short-shorts and flirted shamelessly.

Brandy, on the other hand, had always done just the opposite. She'd kept her ample curves covered up and played the good girl.

In public, a voice reminded her, stirring a wave of memories that sucked her under and reminded her that behind closed doors, she was every bit the bad girl the town painted her to be.

“So?” Ellie nudged. “Give me the details.”

“Tyler and I went to high school together.” Brandy tore her gaze from the pair of lights and focused on the blacktop in front of her.

“And?”

“And nothing.” She shrugged, ignoring the memories that pushed and pulled at her as she followed the road that led back to town. “We went to school together. We graduated. I stayed here to bake and he left to ride bulls.”

“Did you actually date?”

“No. We just fooled around.”

“I wouldn't mind fooling around with his buddy. Talk about a hottie.”

She slid a sideways glance at her assistant. “Don't you have a boyfriend?” She was reminding Ellie of Bart Wilburn, the hunky ranch hand who'd been picking her up after work for the past few months.

“Sure do.”

“And he doesn't mind if you see other people?”

“As long as I don't get caught seeing other people. See, while we like each other, we don't
like
each other. I know it and he knows it, but instead of ending things, we stay together because it's better than being alone. Meanwhile, we're both still looking for something better. At the same time, we don't want to make the other look bad so we keep it discreet.”

“That's the most dysfunctional thing I've ever heard.”

“So sayeth the woman who's married to her oven. Then again, if I had a hunky FB like the one back there, I might be able to work out my frustrations and keep my focus on work, too. Speaking of which, I've noticed that you're a little tense. I think it's a good thing this guy is back in town.”

“I'm not hooking up with Tyler McCall right now.”

“Why not? That's what he's for, right? At least take one night off and do the deed. You never know when he'll be back. You know what they say—use it or lose it.”

“That's ridiculous.” Brandy crossed over the railroad tracks on the outskirts of town and glanced back at her mirror. As expected, the headlights slowed at the small dirt road just on the other side of the tracks. The shiny black truck swung a right and disappeared through the thick trees that shrouded the entrance to Rebel's one and only trailer park and Brandy ignored the strange sense of loss that niggled at her.

“It's the God's honest.” Ellie held her hand to her heart. “I heard just yesterday from Amanda Huckaby who heard from Kaitlyn McGuire who said that her cousin spent every second of her twenties building up her hair salon. She worked nonstop. Then all of a sudden, she hit thirty and bam, she wanted to shift into the next gear and have a family. But she couldn't and do you know why?”

“No.” Brandy turned right at the next intersection and followed the street into the heart of Rebel. “But I'm sure you're going to tell me.”

“Because her lady parts had been on pause for so long that they forgot what to do.” The woman gave a shudder. “Her vagina practically shriveled up and died from neglect. At least that's what her gyno said.”

“No doctor said that.”

“Not outright. He used some fancy medical terms, but the bottom line is she can't have any kids because her coochie is useless. And all because she put business before pleasure.”

“That's crazy.”

“Is it? If you think about it, it makes perfect sense. Say you went ten years without using your legs, you wouldn't be able to just jump up and start running. Not without some serious repercussions. We're talking leg cramps. Weakness. Pain. Why, you'd be lucky to stand up at all let alone walk around or run.”

“It hasn't been ten years.” Brandy pulled up behind the small Ford Focus parked in front of the bakery and killed the engine. “Just two.”

“Are you freakin' serious? No wonder you've been so irritable lately.” Ellie gathered up her purse and climbed out of the car. “Don't tell me you're going back inside,” she added when Brandy climbed out of the car and started for the front door.

“I'm already here. I might as well get everything prepped for tomorrow morning. Besides, I want to check on the mash and make sure it's still bubbling.” She slid her key into the lock. “And I'm not irritable because it's been two years. Sweet Somethings has some serious competition for the breakfast crowd. I have a right to be on edge.”

“If you say so,” Ellie said as she pulled open the door to her Focus. “Use it or lose it, sister.” She slid Brandy a glance before disappearing behind the wheel. “That's all I'm saying.”

 

CHAPTER 5

“Did you find him?” asked the petite brunette who sat on the front steps of the faded white trailer. The metal structure sat at the very end of a row of equally run-down dwellings that made up the small community known as the Happy Times Trailer Park.

A place where, contrary to its name, Tyler had had many
not
-so-happy times. The memories stirred but he fought them back down, determined to keep his head on straight and his focus solely on finding Cooper and talking some sense into him.

His gaze went to the girl who'd been waiting for him when he pulled up. Erin Shelton had short black hair that reached for the sky thanks to some heavy-duty hair products. A series of four piercings traced the edge of her right ear. Dark eyeliner rimmed almond-shaped eyes, making them seem wide and, oddly enough, innocent, despite her too-small T-shirt and tight black mini skirt.

Erin was the classic example that looks could be deceiving. She might look like an extra from a
Sons of Anarchy
rerun, but she was smart. Responsible. Driven. She'd been best friends with Cooper since the second grade, when she'd moved in next door with her mother, and his brother's compass on more than one occasion.

Erin wanted out of the trailer park and so she'd studied hard, made straight A's, and earned herself a scholarship, and she'd kept Cooper on track, as well.

Until a month ago when she'd gone off to work as a camp counselor with troubled teens and Tyler's younger brother had taken up with Kenny Roy.

Erin pushed up on a pair of faded combat boots, her expression anxious. Worried.

“You did find him, right?” She glanced past Tyler at the man sitting in the passenger seat. He'd wanted to stop off at the trailer one more time before dropping Duff off at a nearby motel, to check if maybe, hopefully, Cooper had smartened up and reappeared on his own.

“Not yet.” Tyler shoved his keys into his pocket and ran a frustrated hand through his hair. “There was no one at Kenny Roy's. I stopped off at the Bucking Horse and the Shade Tree Saloon before that. No one's seen them.” At least not today. One of the waitresses at the Bucking Horse had mentioned that Cooper had come in last night, but Tyler wasn't going to tell Erin that. Not when the waitress also said that Cooper had left her a whopping tip and an invitation to get together after work. Erin had a massive crush on his younger brother and while he knew his brother didn't feel the same, he also knew Cooper would never willingly hurt her.

At least not the Cooper that Tyler remembered. But from what he was hearing around town about his brother's recent behavior, he was starting to think that maybe the old Coop had taken a hike. Just like their deadbeat dad.

“We have to be in College Station in two weeks for freshman move-in. We were supposed to ride up together.” Cooper and Erin had studied hard, nailing the top two spots in their graduating class and snagging scholarships to one of the best schools in the state.

“He'll turn up before then,” Tyler reassured her.

“I thought so myself, but it's been nearly three weeks since I last saw him. He's never been gone that long without at least a text. He even missed pizza night last week. He's never missed pizza night.” Her eyes shone in the dim porch light. “I always let him have all the pepperoni.”

“I'm sure he just got caught up in whatever he's doing. He'll be home soon. Speaking of which, why don't you head over to your place? I'll catch up with you tomorrow after I check out a few more leads.” Namely one that had dropped into his lap thanks to the waitress. She'd mentioned Gator Hallsey, a badass bootlegger from a nearby county who'd been spending more and more time in Rebel. After pocketing the fat tip and turning his brother down on his offer, the waitress had seen Cooper leave with Gator.

Unease niggled at Tyler, making his muscles tight and his gut clench. If his brother was keeping company with Gator Hallsey, then the boy was sure as hell in over his head.

“Stop worrying,” Tyler said more for himself than Erin. “I'll find him.”

She nodded and headed for the large pink trailer two spots down that she shared with her mother and the woman's current flavor of the month. Not the most responsible setup in Tyler's opinion, but who was he to cast stones? His own mother wasn't likely to win Mom of the Year anytime soon. “Call me if you hear from him,” he called after her.

“I will.”

“I'll be out in a second,” he called to Duff, who still sat in the passenger seat of his pickup.

He thought about inviting the man in for a nanosecond before dismissing the crazy notion.

Duff's parents were a modern-day version of Ward and June Cleaver. His dad was an accountant for a large cattle ranch while his mother owned a small café. The two had been married over thirty years and they were still going strong. Duff had grown up in the same house with the same two parents, three square meals, and a dog named Champ.

Okay, so the dog's name had been Bruiser, but it was the principle. Duff had a normal home life back in Odessa.

While Tyler had this.

He stared at the dented metal door, the peeling aluminum exterior, the small wooden porch that slumped on one side.

Tyler had done his best to fix the porch, but then his mother had come home drunk and rammed her ancient Caddy into the edge and the post had buckled again. Six months of weather and the exposed wood had splintered and started to waste away.

Tyler ignored the sick feeling in his gut and mounted the steps. When he reached for the door handle, the past rushed at him and he stalled the way he always had growing up. Hesitant to go in. Wary of what he might find on the other side. Or what he might not find. Namely an empty space, the fridge cleared out, the furniture gone—all telltale signs that his mother had taken off just like his dad.

Because as different as Ellen Sawyer McCall claimed to be from the worthless man she'd married, Tyler feared deep down inside she was cut from the same cloth. Birds of a feather and all that.

The knob turned, the door creaked and swung inward. True to form, she was still there, sprawled on the sofa like always, a bottle of Jack on the table next to a half-empty cup of the expensive gourmet roast coffee she always bought.

Even if there wasn't enough leftover cash to put food on the table or pay the electric.

“Ma?”

She didn't stir. Instead, the heavy snores of a woman who'd had way too much to drink filled the room.

Tyler closed the door behind him and moved over to the small couch. Sliding his arms under the woman, he lifted her. The scent of whiskey and cheap menthol cigarettes filled his head and made his nostrils burn.

“Hey.” His mother's eyelids fluttered open. “What are you doing here?” She'd begged him to come home numerous times on the phone, and yet it was as if he'd just walked in off the street.

“I'm here to help with Cooper.”

“Takes after my side, ya know. So smart, that boy. And handsome. And such a gentleman.” While Tyler was the exact opposite, which Ellen never failed to rub in his face. “He's a Sawyer through and through, that boy.”

“You need to hit the sheets.”

“But I'm not ready yet.” She twisted, reaching for the cup on the coffee table, but Tyler had already moved her out of reach. “One more drink. A nightcap.”

BOOK: Red-Hot Texas Nights
5.41Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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