Texas Tangle (8 page)

“So I said, sure he could borrow it, so long as he got it back to me Friday night, ’cause I needed it yesterday.” Their informant picked up the long neck beer bottle and sucked back the last half. He slammed it on the table to join the four empties he’d already lined up. “See, I’d already promised my cousin he could use the damned truck to help his brother pick up a flat-screen. But fuck-it-all if that lowlife Kimball never brought the damned truck back.” He pointed a thick finger at Tiny. “You find that sumbitch, you let me know. I’ll teach him a lesson about how a man honors his word.”

You’d think after living in Texas for the last fourteen years, Nikki’s brother would have learned not to get between a man and his truck. Phil better hope the cops found him before Bubba here did. From the size of Bubba’s arms, picking up a vehicle all by himself wouldn’t have him working up a sweat. Heck, he made Tiny look…
tiny
.

Bubba called over the waitress and yacked with her about everything under the sun before Tiny finally grew impatient. “Do you know if he had any friends to help him move the stuff?”

The chair groaned in complaint as Bubba raised himself half out of his chair and yelled to the three men clustered at the end of the stripper’s runway. “Hey, Billy, getcher skinny ass over here.”

The shortest one of the bunch stuck a bill into the dancer’s G-string before ambling over.

“Whatcha want? I was just gettin’ me some action.”

“Action.” Bubba snorted. “Dream on, B-man. You ain’t seen action since your momma changed your diaper and cleaned your little willy.”

He hooked at thumb toward Tiny and Brett. “These here fellas are asking about that skinny punk who stole my truck. Tell him what the sumbitch told you.”

An hour later and no further ahead than before he’d lost his hearing, Brett followed Tiny from the raucous bar into the only slightly less noisy parking lot. He ignored the couple going at it in the cab of the pick-up three trucks down and stopped in front of Tiny’s squad car.

“I’ll add the truck’s description and license to the B.O.L.O., see if it’s shown up anywhere, but I wouldn’t hold up much hope that you’ll find Ms. Kimball’s belongings.” Tiny climbed into his car, but left the door open and one foot on the ground. “She still stayin’ out at Dillon’s place?”

“Yup.”

“You were sayin’ earlier that you’re stayin’ out there too.”

“Yeah, Dillon’s worried Phil might come back with some buddies, hoping to score more cash.” Not to mention Dillon wasn’t about to give Nik a shot at slipping out from under him. Literally. “Figured she’d be safer over at his place. I’m stayin’ over just to make sure no one comes round when Dillon’s at work.”

That earned him a slow nod. “Considering what he did to you back in high school, I’m surprised he asked you. Or that you agreed.”

“Yeah, well, that was a long time ago. And he apologized.” He shoved his hands in his pockets and frowned at the college boy stumbling down the stairs from the bar. Looked like they’d have to break out the breathalyzer if that dumbass tried to get behind a wheel tonight. Once the kid finished puking, that is.

Shooting him a knowing look, Tiny unwrapped a stick of gum. “So how come you ain’t asking her out? If I remember the story rightly, you were the one she was kissin’ at Tater O’Neill’s party. Not Golden Boy Barnett.”

“Hey, back off. Dillon’s a good guy.”

“Not sayin’ he’s not. But I don’t understand why you’re letting him chase after a woman you’ve had your eye on all these years. It don’t make no sense.”

“It does to me.”

Careful not to disturb the softly snoring Dillon, Nikki rolled out of bed. She padded downstairs, not bothering to turn on any lights, and found her way to the kitchen. It wasn’t until she opened the fridge door that she noticed Brett sitting at the table, nursing a beer, watching her. As soon as he realized she’d seen him, his beer bottle became his object of interest.

“Hey,” she said softly. “I didn’t hear you come in.”

“Got in about an hour ago,” he told the bottle.

An hour ago. She winced. No wonder she hadn’t heard him—she and Dillon had been making love about then. Dillon had been particularly vigorous. And particularly loud.

Heat spreading across her cheeks, she ducked her head and looked into the fridge. Poor Brett, having to listen to them. She made a vow to try to be quieter next time.

Once she’d poured herself a glass of milk, she slid onto the bench across from him. He was still in his uniform, though his hat lay on the table between them. She took a sip of her milk. When she raised her eyes again, she caught him looking at her again. As soon as their gazes met, his skittered away. Yeah, he’d heard them.

After a few minutes she broke the silence. “Tough shift?”

One shoulder hitched up, then slowly dropped. “Same old, same old.”

She reached out and touched his hand, stroking the backs of his fingers. “Dillon told me you’re going to be staying here for a while.”

His fingers curled as he pulled away from her. “That’s what friends are for.”

“How’d I get so lucky?”

“What?”

“Having such good friends. You. Dillon. I keep trying to figure out what I did to deserve you guys.”

“Me? Nah, it’s all Dillon’s idea. He’s the one you deserve.” He lapsed back into silence. The stillness in the room was broken only by the crickets chirping outside and the tick of the wall clock’s pendulum. Each time she took a sip of her milk, his eyes would flick up to watch her. Then once she lowered the glass, he’d drop his gaze and resume his examination of his now empty beer bottle.

“You know, back in high school, I don’t remember you saying you wanted to be a cop. I thought you and Dillon had talked about going into the landscaping business together.”

His brows drew together, focusing harder on the bottle’s label. “Yeah, well, plans changed. I realized landscaping wasn’t for me.”

While he picked at the label, she thought about the night she and Dillon had discovered Phil had taken everything she owned. And how Brett had held her. How right she felt in his arms. If he’d asked her, would she have gone to his place that night? Would he have asked?

Sensing that once he removed the label, he’d leave, she took a deep breath. “You know, the last couple months when you’d drop in? I know you said it was to check on Phil, but I got the impression that maybe…”

“Maybe what?” His gaze shot up and held hers for the first time that evening. Did she detect panic in his voice? It couldn’t be. Of everyone she knew, Brett was the most even tempered.

“Every once in a while, I got the impression that maybe you wanted to ask me out.”

His gaze slipped to the door as if he were gauging the distance. Then his lips compressed into a thin line, and he dropped his eyes again. “I was there to check on Phil. Just like I said.”

She replayed all their conversations—all his visits while she was married to Wade, and afterward. Each time she circled right back to how he’d held her the other night, the way his head had dipped down toward her. “So the other night back at my place, when you were holding me out on the lawn, you weren’t going to kiss me?”

“Nope.” He kicked his chair back and stood. With a jerky movement, he snatched the bottle and walked to the bin Dillon kept under the sink, depositing it there.

What was going on?

“So you aren’t upset with me for coming home with Dillon?”

Without turning to look at her, he shook his head. “No.”

The word snapped through the air like a whip.

He took a deep breath and ran his hands through his hair. “Don’t mind me. You’re right, it was a tough shift. I guess I let it get to me more than I realized.”

He started to head out of the kitchen, pausing when he got to the hallway door to say over his shoulder, “Dillon’s a great guy, Nik. You two belong together, and you deserve everything he can give you. I think it’s great that you two have finally gotten together.”

With that, he left her alone with his hat and the pile of label he’d shredded.

Chapter Five

Dillon positioned the chainsaw in the shade of the barn, where he could watch Nikki working one of her colts. She moved with a grace, yet handled the long line with a confidence borne over years of handling her precious Blues. No one else would know the smile she shot him was a hint of the sensual being she kept carefully hidden from others. She lifted her hand in a wave before returning her focus to the colt.

Just last night, he’d been the focus of her attention on the porch swing. Man, that had been a sweet evening. Lying with her on top of him as the sun set, the breeze keeping them both cool. She’d had her hands all over him. And he’d returned the favor, discovering all her ticklish spots. It had been good to see her laughing. To feel her throaty moan reverberating through his chest when he’d gone down on her.

Even now the fruity scent of her shampoo filled his head, and the skin on his chest tingled everywhere she’d touched. A hint of her strawberry-flavored lip gloss lingered on his tongue from when she’d kissed him earlier.

She called an instruction to the pony, her voice strong and confident. Different from the soft, breathless pleas she’d whispered when he’d woken her that morning. The juxtaposition of strength and softness fascinated him.

“You gonna work on that chainsaw, or you planning on oglin’ me all morning?”

He laughed. “I plan on doin’ both, darlin’. You sure are a prettier sight than the inside of my workshed.”

She stuck her tongue out at him before clicking to the colt, wheeling him in the opposite direction.

Dillon dropped to his knees and rummaged through his toolbox, searching for a screwdriver. As he unscrewed the saw’s air filter housing, his father’s old Ford pulled into the yard.

His father resettled his Stetson and joined Dillon in the shade. “Hot one today.”

“Yup. Gonna reach one hundred again.” Had probably reached it already. Which made him worry about Nikki working out in the sun.

“Your mom was disappointed you missed Sunday dinner.” His dad hunkered down and poked through his toolbox. “You know how important it is to your momma to have her family together at least once a week. Especially with Griff working up north and Ethan away at college.”

“Sorry. We were over at Nikki’s place helping her clean up the mess Phil left, and I lost track of time.” He sat back on his heels watching her pull a water bottle from her pocket and take a long swig. Even from this distance, he could see the long, smooth column of her throat move as she swallowed. He released a breath as he remembered touching it when she’d gone down on him in the shower. Damned if he didn’t get hard just at the memory.

“You running her back and forth to her place to do her chores every day?”

He shifted, easing the tightness in his jeans. “Nah. Brett thought it best if we brought her horses over here, just in case Phil realized how much they were worth and decided to come back for them.”

“That must have taken you a while, shipping all those horses in her little trailer. You could have borrowed my big rig if you’d needed.”

Dillon shot him a smug grin. “I just cut a hole in the fence between our places and led them through.” They’d debated putting a gate in place of the hole when they were finished. While he’d argued—and won—that it might be too tempting to Phil to just open the gate and lure the horses back onto her land, he’d secretly wanted to make it harder for Nikki to move back to her place. “Brett and I have worked out our hours so there’s always someone here to keep an eye on her, just in case Phil does try something though.”

“Speaking of Brett, where is your brother? He around?” His dad picked up a socket wrench and spun it around in his fingers, making it whir. Geez, sometimes he could be as big a kid as Dillon’s youngest brother, Matt.

“Brett’s run into Dallas on police business.”

Nikki had the colt switch directions, rewarding him with a click when he obeyed. Dillon found it hard to believe the horse had never worn a halter a month before. Then again, he’d wear a halter if it meant she’d pay attention to him, reward him with treats the way she did the colt. Or better yet, he’d like to use some leather bindings on her. Tie her up to his bed and spend the day pleasuring her.

“Thought he was off on Wednesdays.”

Dillon grabbed the rag from his pocket and wiped his face. Fantasizing about tying up your girlfriend when your father was a couple feet away definitely breached the weirdness boundaries.

“Yeah, well, Tiny O’Brien called this morning, saying they had a lead on her brother. They traced the GPS chip in Nik’s cell phone to Dallas. Brett figured they might get further with the cops there if they had to deal with an actual person, instead of a voice on a phone.”

“Well, when he gets back, tell him to drop by, will you? Your sister wants to ask him about living in Boston. Figured he’d be able to tell her what it was like from when he went to school there.”

“She doing a school project or something?”

“Or something.” His father grunted as he replaced the wrench and picked up a file. “She’s trying to decide where to apply for college. She got some wild hair about going to school up east like Brett did, instead of going to Aggie like the rest of you boys. Your mom’s hoping Brett will dissuade her, but I’m not so sure. The boy stayed there even on his breaks, especially that first year.”

Dillon couldn’t look at his father; they both knew why Brett hadn’t come home. Dillon swore as he stripped the threading on the screw. Jeezus that had been a shitty year. One neither of them had talked about since he’d finally gotten his head out of his ass and apologized to Brett.

“By the way, have your girlfriend call your mom, will ya? Your mother and grandmother are planning on having some sort of fundraiser over at the church for her, but they need to know what she needs the most.”

Dillon’s chest swelled with pride. Trust Mom to come up with some way to help out. He just hoped Nikki would accept whatever help they came up with. “Might be better if I call Mom and see what we can come up with. Nikki might be embarrassed and try to turn them down.”