“I, um…” Brandy scrambled for her voice. Her hand trembled and the shake sloshed. A glob of chocolate dove over the side and slid down the cup, covering her fingers in sticky goodness. “You scared the daylights out of me.” She reached for a napkin and tried to calm the sudden jolt of her heart.
What the hell was wrong with her? She’d slept with the man, for Pete’s sake, yet here she was acting like a nervous schoolgirl because he was talking to her.
But then that was the point entirely.
They didn’t talk. They didn’t socialize. There was no going to the movies or kicking up dust at the local saloon. No running into each other and gabbing like old friends. No picnics or lunches at the Dairy Freeze.
They hooked up and while they might exchange a few choice words in the heat of the moment, it was all about the sex.
This … This was different.
This was out in the open for the world to see.
He frowned. “I thought I told you to stay away from here.”
“And I thought I told you it was none of your business.” She sat the shake in the cup holder and wiped at her messy hands. “I need to see Kenny and I’m not leaving until I do.”
“Kenny’s a bad guy.”
“If he’s such a bad guy, then what do you want with him?”
The frown deepened. “Maybe I just came back because I remembered how stubborn you were and I wanted to make sure you didn’t get into trouble.”
“That would imply that you care, and we both know there’s no truth to that.” She gave him a pointed stare. “I can look after myself.”
He stared at her long and hard as if there was something he wanted to say, but then he shrugged. “My brother’s been hanging out with him lately and I’m here to put a stop to it.”
“Because Kenny’s such a bad guy.”
“Exactly.” He reached for the door handle.
Before she could hit the LOCK button, the door swung wide and his deep voice slid into her ears. “Scoot.”
“What are you doing?” she blurted as he started to climb into the driver’s seat.
“We might as well wait together.” His muscular thigh hit hers and she found herself sliding to the side a split second before his entire body folded in next to hers.
Vinyl groaned and creaked as he settled behind the steering wheel. The door slammed shut and suddenly old Bertha seemed much smaller than she’d realized. A hand span of worn seat separated them. The potent scent of sexy male drifted across the space to her and wound tight, pushing and pulling at her already tentative control. The urge to wiggle to her left and snuggle up next to him nearly overwhelmed her.
She pushed aside the crazy notion and finished wiping her sticky hands. “I don’t think this is such a good idea.”
He shot her a sideways glance. One dark brow arched. “Don’t trust yourself?”
Bingo.
“Don’t flatter yourself.” She cleared her throat. “I need to get some work done, that’s all.” She indicated the clipboard and supply list. “I’ve got to order staples tomorrow and I need to figure out exactly how much I need.”
“So work.” He shrugged. “I don’t mind.” He was all hard muscle and purposeful intent as he settled back in the seat, one elbow resting on the open window.
Her gaze hooked on his large hand sitting atop the seat between them, his fingers long and strong. The musky scent of leather and horse filled the interior, teasing her senses and making her heart flutter. The air inside the vehicle crackled with electricity.
The chemistry between them fired to life as always, a live wire running from point A to point B, the connection shivering with intensity. She became keenly aware of the chocolate residue coating her fingers and the top of her hand. A thought pushed its way into her head and she saw Tyler’s strong hand covering hers, lifting it to his lips, his tongue lapping at the sweetness clinging to her skin …
Not that he was doing any such thing. Not out in the open for everyone to see.
A wave of heat washed over her and she barely resisted the urge to tug at the neckline of her T-shirt. The heat rolling off his body made the already humid night air unbearable and she found herself reaching for the door handle.
“Where are you going?”
“I really need to wash my hands,” she blurted. “I’ll just turn on the hose right there”—she indicated the faucet near the corner of the house—“and cool off.” The minute the words were out, her gaze collided with his. A knowing smile crooked his lips and she stiffened. “Clean up,” she rushed on. “I need to clean off.”
The door opened and slammed and she walked swiftly to the faucet, doing her best to ignore the strange prickle of awareness that told her he was watching her.
Her hand closed around the knob and she turned. Water spurted from the end of the hose and she busied herself washing off her fingers.
She wasn’t doing anything with him right here, right now. She had more important things on her plate.
Namely, talk to Kenny and get herself home to bed in time to be at the bakery at four a.m. sharp to prep the way she did every day.
Last night had been enough.
She gathered her strength and her composure, turned off the water, and started back toward the car. Thirty seconds later, she climbed into the passenger seat and reached for her clipboard.
“You’re all wet, sugar,” he murmured, drawing her attention.
Her gaze collided with his and she felt the familiar ache between her legs. “You have no idea.”
He grinned then and she had the crazy thought that he knew exactly what she was talking about. But then he reached out and touched her damp sleeve. “Maybe you ought to go home and change.”
“It’s just water. It’ll dry.” She forced her attention to the clipboard. Flipping on the dash light, she focused on counting last week’s sales and predicting the coming week, along with specialty items.
“Do you mind?” He motioned to the radio, and she shrugged.
A click of the knob and Jason Aldean’s “Burnin’ It Down” drifted over the radio.
The music combined with the steady sound of his breathing actually relaxed her and she managed to get a good ten minutes’ worth of work done before her gaze snagged on his profile and she found herself remembering a similar moment when she’d climbed into his pickup truck that very first time.
She didn’t remember the drive to the rodeo arena or the walk through the stock pens to get to the foreman’s office. She just remembered this—his firm chin, the sensual set to his mouth, the slope of his chiseled nose, the shadow of a beard covering his strong jaw.
Everything seemed more defined now, as if the years had added an edge to his features that made him seem older, and much more dangerous.
“I can’t believe Cooper would trade a full ride to A and M for this.” He motioned to the overgrown yard and the sagging front porch. “It’s not like Kenny is making money hand over fist, otherwise he wouldn’t be holed up in such a dump.”
“You really think Cooper is involved with Kenny Roy?”
“That’s what he said. Left our mother a message saying he was doing some work with Kenny Roy and would be gone for a little while. That was three weeks ago. He’s been in touch once or twice since, but he just leaves the same message that he’ll be back soon. But soon should have come a helluva long time ago.”
“Did you call the police?”
He shook his head. “He’s not technically a missing person. He’s okay or he wouldn’t be able to leave messages, but there’s no word about where he is or what he’s involved with. He mentioned that Kenny Roy had hooked him up with some kind of job, so I figured I would start here.” He eyed her. “What about you? Why do you need to see Kenny Roy? You trying to sell him some cookies?”
“Very funny.” She shook her head and fixed her gaze back on the clipboard. “I’m not a Girl Scout, but I am here on business. A new business.” She didn’t mean to say any more, but he’d been so forthcoming about his brother that the words slid out before she could stop them. “I think I’ve come up with a new moonshine recipe. One even better than Texas Thunder.”
“Seriously?”
She nodded. “I mixed up a batch of mash and Ellie, the girl I was here with earlier, gave it to her boyfriend who gave it to Kenny Roy who found someone who could run it for me. It turned out really good, which is why I need to talk to Kenny about running another batch. I’ve got my mash fermenting right now. It’s not ready yet, but when it is I need someone to run it and get me a sample for this meeting I have with a distiller out of Austin.”
“Kenny Roy is an idiot. I can’t imagine you would trust him with a batch of muffins, much less a bucket of mash.”
“I know he is, but he has connections. It’s the connection I’m trying to reach. I need to see the mash run myself. To make sure there’s no alteration or contamination going on.”
“No moonshiner is going to be too keen on an audience.”
“Maybe not, but it’s the only way I can be sure. The recipe has to be solid, the finished product pure and perfect and in my hands before next Friday, otherwise I’ll have to wait months for another meeting. That’s time I don’t have.”
“I’m assuming your grandpa didn’t pass down his know-how, otherwise you’d be running it yourself.”
“All he passed on was a world of debt, which we’ve managed to climb out of. At least Callie’s free and clear.”
“But not you?”
“I had to help Callie.” She shrugged. “She spent too many years carrying the burden all by herself. I got a secure loan on my equipment, which I could easily pay back at the time. But then a doughnut shopped opened up around the corner and they’re killing my morning rush. That, and I need to expand. I’ll never get anywhere if I can’t do enough special orders.”
“So you perfect the recipe and sell it, and you’re set.”
“That, and I bake my fingers to the bone. Then I’m set.”
He grinned. “Some things never change.”
The comment should have made her feel good, but for some reason regret whispered through her.
“What about you?” She eyed him. “I hear you’re doing pretty good on the circuit.”
“Good enough.” His gaze met hers. “So far. I’ve got to be in Cheyenne as soon as I settle things here. If I hold my own there, then I’ll be on my way.”
“So when are you leaving?”
“I’m supposed to be in Cheyenne in a few days to start training for the rodeo in three weeks. I’ve got a buddy up there who’s got a top-notch facility. Cooper has to be at A and M at about the same time. I’ll find him and get him to College Station, and then I’ll head for Wyoming.”
“What if you don’t find him in time?”
“Oh, I will.” Determination carved his broad jaw. “I’ll sit here all night if I have to.”
Right here. Right next to her.
So close all she had to do was reach out.
Uh, oh.
“There’s really no need for both of us to be here,” she blurted. “We could take shifts. I mean, really. Neither of us knows when Kenny Roy will be back. What if he’s taking a vacation? I mean, I hope he’s not, but my mash still has several more days to ferment, so it’s not like I have to talk to him right now. Just sometime before it’s ready to go.”
“Kenny Roy runs a weekly football pot. He’ll be back before Friday, so I doubt he’s on vacation.”
“Still, he might not be here tonight, so we should prepare ourselves for the possibility that it might take a day or two.”
He stared at her a long moment as if trying to decide something. “I don’t think shifts are a good idea.”
“Because you don’t trust me.”
“Because I don’t trust Kenny Roy. He’s a bad guy, Brandy.”
“I’m not exactly all that good, myself,” she murmured.
“Oh, I know just how bad you can be.” His aqua-blue eyes fired in the center and heat fluttered from the soles of her feet, working its way up and igniting every major erogenous zone along the way. “But this is different. Kenny Roy is a two-bit criminal and the company he keeps isn’t much better. You don’t need to get mixed up with him.”
“I don’t need a babysitter.”
“Is that so?” He eyed her. “Then tell me, sugar. What do you need?”
“I don’t think this is the right place,” she started, but then he leaned forward and pressed his lips to hers, and the protest was lost in a sudden rush of heat.