He didn’t mean to kiss her.
He’d always let her make the first move and come to him. But there was just something about being so close and not touching her that was eating him up from the inside out.
That, and she just had the most tempting mouth. Full on the bottom with a slight pout that made him think of all the nasty things he wanted to do to her.
Things they’d already done, he reminded himself. Which meant his curiosity shouldn’t be getting the better of him. He knew, but damned if that didn’t make him want to kiss her that much more.
He slid his arms around her waist and pulled her close. His mouth ate at hers, tasting and exploring and—
The flash of headlights cut through the haze of lust and snapped him back to reality. To the black Ford Explorer that swerved into the driveway and the fact that they were sitting there for all the world to see.
Gravel crunched and brakes screeched. A door slammed, boots crunched gravel. Kenny Roy waltzed up just as they both scrambled from the car.
“Well, well, if this ain’t a Ripley’s Believe It or Not moment.” Kenny stopped a few feet away and took a drag on the cigarette in his hand. “Never thought I’d see the day when a Tucker and a Sawyer got up close and personal right in front of my place. Or anybody’s place for that matter. There’s a feud goin’ on, in case you didn’t know.”
“We weren’t—” Brandy started, but Tyler cut her off.
“We need to talk.”
“I’m afraid I’m clear out of smoke.” He winked and took another drag of his cigarette. “The good kind, that is. But I do have a little hooch left over to really get the party started.”
“I’m not here to buy.”
The man shrugged. “I’m not running a new football pot until next week. If you come back Monday, I can get you in on next week’s game. It’s a pre-season biggee. Texas Tech versus LSU. My money’s on Tech. They’ve got one helluva quarterback this year.”
“We’re not here to bet.”
“So what are you doing here? Don’t tell me, the cops chased you away from Rebel Creek and this is the best you could do for a make-out spot.”
“I’m looking for my brother,” Tyler told him.
Kenny Roy’s eyes widened for a split second before he shook his head. “Can’t say as I’ve seen him.”
“I don’t believe you. An entire barful of customers saw you two together last week,” Tyler reminded him.
“That’s true enough, but I ain’t seen him this week.”
Tyler stepped forward until barely a hand span separated them. “You’re full of shit.”
“It’s true,” Kenny Roy said, clearing his throat as if searching for his voice. “I ain’t seen him since last weekend.”
“Why not? Where did he go?”
“I think you ought to ask him.” He shrugged again. “I ain’t gettin’ in the middle of somebody else’s family business.”
“You’re already in the middle because you gave him a job that paid more than the crappy Dairy Freeze. He’s been selling for you, hasn’t he?”
“Maybe. But that was weeks ago. He’s moved on since then.”
“On to what?”
“Something that pays a damn sight better.” When Tyler’s gaze narrowed enough to be dangerous, Kenny Roy rushed on, “It’s no big deal. He’s just doing a little bootlegging with Gator Hallsey. Not cooking or anything like that. Gator don’t cook. He’s strictly into transport, and he’s damn good at it. The best on account of he used to do all that dirt track driving. He knows every back road within a five-hundred-mile perimeter. Saw your brother driving that old Mustang of his and thought he might be halfway decent at transport. They left day before yesterday with a truck full of hooch for a high-end buyer up around Dallas. The guy’s got money coming out his ass.”
“So why doesn’t he just hit up a liquor store?” Brandy voiced the one question that most people came up with when they thought of modern-day moonshining. It was a crime not worth the risk and easily preventable.
At the same time, old habits died hard in a small town.
“Because that would be too easy,” Kenny Roy chimed in. “This guy’s got money, and when you got money it’s always fun to see just what you can do with it.”
“How much you can get away with,” Tyler added.
“Exactly. It’s always fun outsmarting the cops. That, and it is some pretty damn good hooch thanks to your girlfriend, here. Speaking of which.” His gaze slid past Tyler. “You gonna help us out with another batch there, sugar?”
“That depends.” She stepped forward, her shoulder brushing Tyler’s as she came up next to him.
“On what?”
“On whether or not I get to see the process through from beginning to end.”
Kenny Roy smiled. “You’re kidding, right?”
“Not at all. My mash. My hooch. I should be there.”
He shook his head. “Not no, but hell no. My boy don’t run anything with an audience.”
She shrugged. “Then you and your boy can mix up your own mash.”
Silence settled for a long moment before he arched an eyebrow. “You really got another batch ready to go?”
“It’s fermenting right now. You can either let me watch the process and give me the first good jar while you keep all the rest for yourself, or you can lose out on the opportunity to make some easy money. There’s no shine out there as good as mine.”
Tyler had to give her props. She stood her ground as she faced off with Kenny Roy. While the guy was little more than a small-time criminal, he still came off as intimidating with his beady black eyes and stout body. But Brandy wasn’t the least bit put off. Determination gleamed in her eyes and he knew then she wasn’t giving up on her recipe any more than he was giving up on his brother.
“I guess I could talk to him.” She nodded and Kenny Roy hooked his fingers in his belt loops. “Is that it? ’Cause I’d really like to get inside. I just won the big enchilada.”
“You play the Lotto?” Brandy asked.
“I ain’t talking Lotto. I won a free dinner at Maria’s House of Enchiladas. She’s got chili cheese tonight and I aim to get there before the doors close.” He moved to walk past them, but Tyler caught him by the collar.
“Not so fast. When is Hallsey getting back to town?”
Kenny Roy didn’t look as if he wanted to give an answer, but Tyler wasn’t leaving without one. He tightened his grip and the material pulled tight around the man’s neck. “You can tell me now, or you can get used to seeing my truck parked in your driveway because I’m not leaving.” He glanced past Kenny’s Ford to another car idling at the end of the drive. The old burgundy Cutlass had just pulled up, the driver little more than a shadow. “I bet that would put a cramp in your business.” He let loose a whistle and motioned to the car. “He’s closed. Get out of here.”
“Hey—” Kenny Roy started, but the grip on his collar went tighter and the words snagged in his throat.
The Cutlass stalled for a second before shifting into gear and hauling ass down the road.
“Either tell me something or I can promise that won’t be the first customer you lose,” Tyler vowed.
“Next week,” Kenny Roy rasped. “They ought to be back by Monday.” When Tyler narrowed his gaze, Kenny Roy added, “Tuesday at the latest. At least that’s what Gator said before he left.”
“It doesn’t take three days to drive to and from Dallas.”
“It does if you’re stopping off to make some drops along the way. Most of Gator’s customers aren’t too keen on taking deliveries during the day, which means he has to hit ’em up at night. He’s got several, so it’ll be a few days. Three. Maybe four days.” He shrugged. “How the hell do I know? I just know he’s gone until I hear that he’s back.”
“And as soon as you do, you’ll call me, right?” Tyler’s fingers tightened. The material grew taut. Kenny Roy’s gaze went wide. “Otherwise, I’ll be telling the sheriff about those plants you’ve got growing in the bathroom.”
“How do you know—”
“I just know,” Tyler cut in. “Call me, understand?” Kenny Roy nodded and Tyler motioned to the Explorer, “Now back that thing up so we can get the hell out of here.” He thrust the man forward and Kenny Roy stumbled a few feet before catching himself.
He stood, tugging at his collar before pulling a cigarette from his pocket and flicking the flame on his lighter. The tip flared and smoke curled.
“A Tucker and a Sawyer,” Kenny Roy said after a long drag. He stepped toward his vehicle, the smoke following him. “Who woulda thought?”