Royal Trouble (15 page)

She is the one who didn't want trouble.  Now that she got a better look at him up close, she thought that was what she may have bought by asking for his help.  He didn't look threatening, but the fact that he had been in prison, maybe with her stalker, concerned her greatly.

"You sure?" he asked, hesitating after taking one step toward his horse.

She huffed out a breath.  "Yeah, I'll work it out."

"I'll come back out here and check on you after I finish loading that horse," he said as he swung up into the saddle.  "If worse comes to worse, I'll drive you into town on my bike." 

Bike
?  Picturing the cowboy riding down the country road with her on the back of his bicycle tickled her.  "Bike?"

Maybe this guy wasn't so bad after all.  Perhaps he just lost his license due to a DUI or something.  Maybe that's why he had served time.  Red had been in for the stalking and rape of another woman.  A very violent man, who had many brushes with the law, before he homed in on her as a victim.  She was judging the man who was helping her based on a hardened criminal, and that wasn't fair really. 

Trace Rooks had only served two years, what he had done couldn't be all that bad.  Her hackles lowered a little.  Would he have volunteered that he had been in prison if he had nefarious purposes in mind?  Not likely.

"My Harley," he clarified then turned the horse toward the gravel road. 

"Oh," she said with a thrill shooting through her.  She'd never ridden on a motorcycle before.  Especially with a bad ass ex-con cowboy, who looked like he was still just this side of legal.  But damned if she didn't want to do just that.  Her mother would have a bird, and that made her want to do it even more.

Sweat dripped down between her shoulder blades as she watched him walk the horse to the end of the drive, before kicking him in the sides to send him running down the drive toward the house.  When the cowboy disappeared from view, Leigh Ann looked down at her cell phone to see she had a few bars of power left, but only one bar of reception. 

Making this call, having it connect, was going to be dicey, so she sent up a prayer, before dialing Dylan's number.  He was her only other hope of getting help.  The only person she could think of who she wanted help from.  The others would just use the situation to think less of her.  No way was she going to call them for help.  Leigh Ann would just figure things out.  Or let Trace Rooks help her.

She got Dylan's voicemail, so she hung up.  Leaving a message wouldn't do her any good.  Thinking about it now, she realized if her sister was at the vet office with her this morning, that meant Dylan was probably getting ready to head out on a cattle drive.  He would be busy with the guests there and wouldn't have the time to help her.

And she had forgotten to ask the cowboy where exactly she was anyway.

Excitement danced in her chest as she realized she would have to wait for Trace Rooks to give her a ride.  It was hot, she was sticky, but this was a once in a lifetime opportunity to do something spontaneous, wild and free.  She was going to grab it and him with both hands. 

To make the decision to do something she wanted to do without having to consult with anyone was liberating.  If she wound up naked and tied to a tree in the woods, at least she'd have a good time before it happened.  And at least the man doing the tying excited her.

Leigh Ann crawled into the back seat, then leaned the front seat against the steering wheel, so she could prop up her feet.  If she was going to ride on the back of a motorcycle, she was going to have to get her feet back in those boots. 

Smoothing down her skirt, she eased her feet up and leaned back to close her eyes and rest.  It was hot and she was thirsty, but if she could manage to go to sleep and forget about it, maybe she would be okay.  Mind over matter, she thought as she drifted off.

A rumbling in her chest woke Leigh Ann.  She scrambled up looking around in a daze.  It was almost dark and the air had cooled off considerably.  A chill moved through her as more vibrations rumbled through her chest, making her heart race.

Looking up, she saw a mean looking black motorcycle pull up beside the car door and stop.  Trace Rooks killed the engine then leaned down over the handle bars to stick his head in the window.  His cowboy hat was gone, but his hair was still covered.  In a black bandana dotted with a white skull and crossbones pattern, which amped up his bad boy persona tenfold. 

A little shiver of excitement passed through her, then grew when he grinned at her and that dimple appeared.  "Have a nice nap, princess?" he asked lazily, his sexy rough voice rumbling through her like the purr of the motorcycle had done.

She smiled back and asked nervously, "Did you get your horse loaded?"

"Yep, c'mon let's go to town," he told her shifting his weight on the bike to lift the kickstand.

Leigh Ann's heart fluttered as she put her feet on the floorboard then scooted forward to open the door.  Crawling out of the car, she stood and smoothed down her skirt.  "I'm not exactly dressed to ride a motorcycle, but my jeans are buried in the trunk somewhere," she said taking a stumbling step toward the back of the car. 

"We're not in a parade, princess.  Just get on and don't worry about it.  If you flash someone, they'll count themselves lucky." With a throaty chuckle and a flash of humor in his dark eyes, he added, "It's gonna be dark in a few minutes anyway."

Leigh Ann picked up her boots from beside the car and shoved her foot inside, then put the other one on and stomped her foot down into it.  Slinging the strap of her purse over her head she let it rest at her hip.  Giving him one hard look, Leigh Ann considered her decision once more, then walked toward the bike with her knees trembling.  Stepping up on the peg, she threw her leg over the bike to settle behind him.  Leaning forward, she put her arms around his waist and asked, "You have a helmet I can wear?"

"Nope, I sure don't."  He reached inside his leather jacket, then handed her a bandana that matched his.  "Put this on and just hang on," he ordered as he cranked the powerful machine and revved it a few times.  The vibrations from the engine moved through her, along with a good dose of adrenaline.

Quickly, she tied her hair up in the bandana feeling like a bad ass biker chick.  Someone totally unlike Leigh Ann Baker, Miss Texas USA.  Right now she was as far from a prim and proper beauty queen as she could get.  And damned if it didn't feel great!

Leigh Ann was living on the wild side tonight, and wild women didn't wear helmets.  They rode on the back of bad ass motorcycles with ex-con cowboys and they
liked
it.

CHAPTER NINE

"If we haven't seen her by now, we're not going to catch her, Rox," Wes said with a huffed breath.  After cruising through town down the route Leigh Ann would most likely have taken, they had driven almost fifty miles toward Dallas on the interstate.  They still hadn't seen any sign of her baby blue mustang convertible.  The chances of them catching up to her now were slim.  It was getting dark.  The best thing they could do was go back to his place and make calls.  Roxanne might be off base about where her sister was going.

"Maybe she went somewhere else?" he suggested, glancing at Roxanne to see her gnawing her lip.  She looked as frazzled and worried as he had ever seen her.

"Or maybe something happened to her," she replied softly.

"Don't borrow trouble, Rox.  She's fine, we just missed her."  Wes wanted to believe that, because the alternative wasn't acceptable to him. 

While he drove, Roxanne had tried to call her sister twenty-five times since they left the office, and Leigh Ann hadn't answered.  Even if she was angry, according to Roxanne, Leigh Ann had been programmed by their mother to never ignore phone calls, because it was rude.  That is why she was so worried.

Wes was worried too, but letting Roxanne know that wasn't going to help the situation.  It would just upset her more and it wasn't going to help them find Leigh Ann.

"Let's drive through town again," he finally said easing off an exit to turn around and head back toward town.  "We'll go back the way we came and see if maybe we missed her."

"Okay," Roxanne agreed scanning the road intently.

Three hours later, the sun had set and there was not one square inch of Amarillo, Texas they hadn't searched.  Wes's stomach rumbled and he told her, "We need to stop and get gas, and a sandwich or something."

"I wanna keep looking," Roxanne told him.

"I do too, but if we run out of gas we won't be able to do that," Wes argued reasonably, as he pulled into the next gas station they came upon.  Finding an open pump behind a slick black motorcycle, he shut off the engine and got out.  A rough-looking guy in a black do rag held a pump hose into the tank of the motorcycle.

Wes had always wanted a bike just like the black Harley, but after he had Trey, it wasn't practical.  In college he had a bike, not one like this one, a much smaller bike, because it was cost effective, and fun.  When Laura told him she was pregnant, he sold it to get his first crew cab truck.  And then he traded in the rest of the fun in his life by marrying Laura.

Tired to the bone and aggravated, Wes swiped his card in the pump and pulled out the nozzle.  After screwing off the gas cap, he shoved the hose into the tank and set it to auto-fill, then leaned back against the truck to fold his arms over his chest and study the bike while he waited.

A flash of blonde hair caught his attention and he looked toward the store.  A woman in a do rag that matched the biker's walked toward him.  Wes's eyes involuntarily honed in on the woman's full breasts peeking over the top of a size too small white tank top, then moved down to the floral skirt swinging at her sexy thighs, down her smooth, toned legs to her hot pink cowboy boots.  It figured the guy would have a hot girl riding with him.  Women usually went for his type, tough and rugged, and it didn't hurt that he had a bad ass bike.  Floral skirt, white tank top, blonde hair, hot
fucking
pink cowboy boots! 

Leigh Ann Baker
! 

His eyes flew up to her face as she smiled at biker boy as she handed him a hot dog, which he consumed in two bites.  The gas pump stopped and he put the nozzle back on the pump, then swung his leg over the bike and cranked it.  Wes watched Leigh Ann daintily step on the back peg and saw a flash of her beautiful ass and hot pink thong as she swung her leg over the bike to sit behind biker boy and put her arms around his waist.

Wes almost tripped over the hose of the gas pump, in his haste to get to Leigh Ann before biker dude took off with her. 

"Leigh Ann!" he yelled loudly, hoping she could hear him over the throaty roar of the bike.  He heard the truck door open, then Roxanne's boots skidded on the concrete as she ran around the front of the truck yelling her sister's name too. 

Wes got to her just as biker boy balanced the bike on his powerful looking legs, preparing to take off with her.  Wes grabbed Leigh Ann around the waist and jerked her off the back of the bike.  Biker dude, realizing he'd lost his hot biker chick, lowered the kick stand again and shut off the bike. 

Swinging off the bike, the man rounded on Wes with his fists clenched at his sides.  "What the fuck, man?  Keep your hands off of my girl," Biker boy growled taking two aggressive steps toward Wes.  He jerked Leigh Ann's arm and pulled her back against his chest, clamping an arm around her waist while he cast Wes a threatening look. 

Adrenaline shot through Wes, and his fists clenched as he hissed, "
Your
girl?"

Here he went again, fighting for a woman.  How the hell had he gotten back to this position?  He had gotten involved with a beautiful woman that every man wanted that's how it had happened.

Roxanne took two steps toward biker dude, showing no fear at all.  "That's
my
sister, man.  You keep
your
fucking hands off of her," she growled taking her sister by the arm.

"Let go of me, Annie," Leigh Ann said with frustration, pulling against her sister's hold.  She wasn't smiling now, her red face said she was as mad as hell.

"No, we need to talk," Roxanne grated, pulling her harder to drag her away from the biker.  Leigh Ann's boot heels dug into the concrete.

"What the hell's going on here, princess?" Biker dude demanded.

Leigh Ann jerked her arm from Roxanne's grasp and walked over to him.  "I'm sorry, Trace.  Thanks for the ride, but I have to go with them."   Tiptoeing, Leigh Ann kissed his beard shadowed cheek, then pulled the bandana off her head and held it out to him. 

"Keep it," he grumped, a muscle working in his jaw, as he stalked back to the bike and straddled it.  Cranking the engine, he revved it angrily a few times, then looked back at her over his shoulder.  Leigh Ann wiggled her fingers at him and smiled while she mouthed, her thanks again.

"Keep it real, princess...you know where I am if you need me," biker boy yelled over the throaty purr of the bike.  Shooting a glare at Wes, he disengaged the kickstand at the same time he gunned the bike and roared toward the exit, his wheels peeling out on the slick concrete.

Breathing a sigh of relief that he didn't have to test his rusty fighting skills, Wes walked back to the truck.  He knew which end of the fight he'd come out on with the burly biker.  Roxanne and Leigh Ann got in on the other side of the truck.  Leigh Ann slid over closer to him to make room for her sister.

Once the passenger door slammed shut, Roxanne rounded on her sister.  "Are you
crazy
, Leigh Ann?  That guy could have killed you, and none of us would know where to find your body!"

"He wasn't like that.  He's a cowboy," Leigh Ann insisted folding her arms over her chest, the toe of her left boot tapping on the floorboard.

"Riding a
steel
horse that could've gotten you killed!" Roxanne argued loudly and Wes flinched.  "What the
hell
were you thinking?"  Roxanne probably didn't notice it, but she sounded like a mother hen, and her words weren't doing anything but enflaming her sister more than she was already agitated.