For the first time in a long time, Hunter DeMassi was out on a Friday night.
Not sitting in a squad car or parked at the weekly VFW spaghetti dinner or watching the local high school football game, but out out.
He sat smack-dab in the middle of the local honky-tonk, a bottle of beer in front of him, a lively Jason Aldean song bouncing off the walls around him, and all because the past few days had been eating him up from the inside out.
Seeing Jenna every night for the past week when he’d stopped by to check in on her and not kissing her again, tasting her, was eating away at his determination.
To the point that he’d said to hell with everything and hauled ass here when he should be trudging through the woods, keeping an eye on the still site.
The questions rolled around in his brain, but he wasn’t in the mood to sort through them. There were too many maybes and could bes and damn, but there were a lot of people here.
He glanced around and ignored the strange tightening in his gut. The sliver of excitement because he hadn’t been inside these walls since last year when he’d picked up old Marvin Shumaker Sawyer, the town drunk and a distant cousin, for forgetting to pull up his pants after a trip to the restroom. He’d exposed himself and the bartender had called it in.
The place had changed little since the call. It sat just up the road from the local rodeo arena and so the place was stuffed with local cowboys. And lots of cowboys meant lots of women.
Locals, he reminded himself.
Which wasn’t a good idea at all.
But then neither was this.
All he had to do was scope out the sea of hot bodies that filled the dance floor and pick whichever one caught his fancy. A blond bombshell with big breasts or a brunette with a nice ass or a redhead with long legs. Someone to take the edge off and ease the damn near constant hard-on making his life freakin’ miserable. A good lay and he would stop fantasizing about Jenna.
Then he could think again.
And after the fact? When he had to face the morning after and whichever woman he’d ended up with?
* * *
He shook away the nagging question. He was past the point of worrying about that right now. He needed to act first and think later. Just once.
That’s what he told himself, but he couldn’t quite get his ass off the bar stool long enough to turn his bright idea into reality. He was the sheriff, after all, and he had a reputation to uphold, and so instead of eyeballing a woman he settled for a beer.
He took a deep swig of Coors, but the liquid didn’t ease the tightening in his gut or sate the thirst that clawed at his throat.
So go talk to Sherri Grimes.
She was nice enough. A single schoolteacher who helped out at the local homeless shelter every other weekend. Exactly the type of woman his Mimi would like to see him with.
If he had to fall off the wagon, she was the perfect woman to do it with.
Except he didn’t feel the same tightening in his gut when he looked at her. No jolt to his heart. No instant hard-on.
He downed another swig of beer and wished with all his heart that he could punch something.
His gaze fixed on the woman currently two-stepping her way across the dance floor with another man. Wouldn’t you know he’d have shitty luck? He’d come to the honky-tonk to escape Jenna.
Yet, here she was, obviously nursing the same bright idea that had hauled him inside the honky-tonk in the first place.
She wore a red tank top that revealed her smooth, silky arms and a pair of fitted jeans that hung low on her hips. Add a pair of blinged-out cowboy boots and Jenna Tucker was definitely the hottest thing in Rebel.
* * *
But her appeal went deeper than the sexy getup. Her long blond hair was slightly mussed and flowed down around her shoulders. Her eyes sparkled. Her skin glowed. She looked as if she’d just rolled out of bed after a night of incredible sex.
Which wasn’t too far off the mark if there was any truth to her reputation.
For all he knew she’d already done the deed and was blowing off a little steam afterward.
At the same time, she’d done her best to resist him this past week so he wasn’t so sure he bought the whole bad-girl picture she’d painted for herself over the years.
He downed another gulp and barely resisted the urge to haul ass across the room and inform her that she had tons of things to do at home so she should stop making a fool of herself and get the hell out of here.
Christ, she was practically melting all over that cowboy.
Her arms looped around his neck. A smile tilted her full lips as she seemed to hang on his every word. Her boots kicked up sawdust and her ass shook as she moved this way and slid that way, dancing as if she hadn’t a care in the world.
As if she didn’t give a shit about her reputation.
All that recent effort to revamp her image blown to hell and back with one sultry smile and a wag of her hips.
* * *
Not that he cared that she was blowing it Hell no. She was a grown woman who could do what she damned well pleased. So what if she was living up to her bad-girl reputation again by fawning all over that guy. She could fawn over any man she chose.
She was a grown woman.
At the same time, it was his civic duty as a public servant to lend a hand to the constituents in his town. To help them out when they were obviously about to make a big, big mistake.
* * *
He was the sheriff, after all. It was his civic obligation to save her from herself when she was obviously about to make a huge mistake. One she would surely regret in the morning because, let’s face it, that guy she was with was a bona fide moron.
* * *
Before he could bolt to his feet, he felt a tap on his shoulder.
“Sorry, but I’m on duty,” he started, turning to see the woman who’d come up behind him. She was sex on a stick, with pretty pouty lips and long, dark hair and a curvy figure.
Perfect for a night of hot, wild, mindless sex.
And all wrong for the sheriff.
“Fancy seeing you here, Sheriff. How about you buy me a drink?”
“I’d love to, but I’m here in a professional capacity.”
“What?”
Yeah, what?
He motioned across the dance floor. “I’m on a stakeout,” he blurted, lowering his voice and motioning her in closer. “I can’t say anymore, but you might want to get out of here before there’s any trouble.”
Her eyes glittered at the thought. “Really? Something’s going down? Right here?”
Actually, something was going up thanks to Jenna and her sexy getup, but Hunter wasn’t going to argue semantics. He nodded and motioned toward the door. “I’d start walking the other way if I were you. I wouldn’t want you caught in the cross-fire.”
Her excitement turned to worry and she turned, working her way through the maze of tables until she reached a group of women. A few words and they all stood and headed for the Exit.
If only he could get Jenna out of here as fast.
He signaled the bartender to bring him a second round before shifting his gaze back to Jenna.
The minute his attention fixed on her, she stiffened and missed a step. She wobbled and the man’s arms tightened around her. His hands snuck around her waist and he pulled her close and …
Ah, hell no.
He pushed to his feet, and just like that, Hunter gave in to a fierce swell of possessiveness. Regardless of what had—or, in this case, hadn’t happened in the past between them, right now, at this moment, Jenna was his responsibility.
His, period.
And it was high time she admitted it.
* * *
Uh-oh.
Panic bolted through Jenna because it wasn’t supposed to happen this way. Hunter wasn’t supposed to waltz right up to her as if he had every right. No, he was supposed to see for himself that she was not, in any way shape or form, into him.
At least that had been the plan when she’d first spotted him. She’d initially gone to the honky-tonk because the bakery had been closed, the cupcakes locked up tight, and she hadn’t been ready to go home. To face the all but empty house now and the memories that still filled it.
She’d needed to escape and so, against her better judgment and her newfound reputation as a responsible workaholic, she’d pulled on her favorite outfit and hit the local honky-tonk to drown her mixed feelings in a frozen margarita.
That and to forget Hunter and how wildly attracted she was to him.
But then she’d walked in and there he’d sat and bam, suddenly she’d needed to convince him—and herself—that she wasn’t desperately attracted to him.
* * *
But instead of taking the hint, he was walking straight for her.
* * *
She tightened her hold on Jimmy or Joe or John or something with a J and stared into his watered-down blue eyes. He really was a nice guy. Worked on a nearby farm. Went to church every Sunday. The perfect man to prove her point with and have a little innocent fun.
And that’s all it was. Innocent.
No way should she feel so guilty all of a sudden.
Even if Hunter was headed straight for her, looking as if she’d just eaten the last cookie from his box.
She saw him out of the corner of her eye, a determined shadow that bisected the dance floor and closed the distance between them. Even more, she could feel him.
Her skin prickled and heat skittered up and down her spine. Awareness rippled through her like a wave gunning for shore and it was all she could do not to turn when he stepped up behind her.
“I need to talk to you.” His deep voice slid into her ears, pushing aside the music and laughter and the frantic beat of her heart.
She stiffened against the urge to turn, wrap her arms around his neck, and taste him again.
Because one taste would lead to two and two to three and three to a one-night stand that would surely destroy any and all efforts to change the town’s perception of her.
That’s what scared her the most. It certainly wasn’t the possibility that she might like sleeping with him. Or that she might want to go back for seconds.
Seconds never figured in with the nice guys she’d been dating lately and while Hunter seemed to be breaking the mold, she wasn’t giving up hope yet. He was just like all the other Chuck and Kevins. Nice. Forgettable.
She twined her fingers around Jimmy/Joe/John’s neck and gave him her most convincing smile. “Don’t mind him. He can wait until we finish our dance. As you can see, I’m kind of in the middle of something right now,” she told Hunter.
But Hunter wasn’t a man to take no for an answer. “It’s official police business. If you don’t cooperate I’ll be obliged to make you.”
“You and what army?”
“Just me.” He sounded none too pleased and a traitorous slither of joy went through her. For a split second, she entertained the crazy hope that she might actually feel some fireworks. That he might feel them. That he might be jealous. “Either you cooperate or I’ll have to arrest you for obstructing justice.”
“That’s ridiculous.”
“That’s the law.”
“But this is my favorite song?” She gave Jimmy/Joe/John another sorry-about-this look. “I love Luke Bryan.”
“This is Jason Aldean.”
“Whatever.”
“Maybe you should go with him,” Jimmy/Joe/John cut in. “It could be important.”
“Great advice.” Hunter’s deep voice sounded a split second before he took her hand. “Now get lost, fella.”
“You can’t just come in here and ruin my fun.” Her voice followed him, but he didn’t slow his pace as he strode toward the nearest exit and hauled her behind him.
“I should think you’d want me ruining it. I thought you were trying to change your image?”
“Yeah, well, maybe it’s fine just the way it is.” She shrugged. “Maybe I’m going out of my mind packing boxes and I needed to get away for a little while.”
“Go for ice cream,” he growled. “Or get a hamburger. But steer clear of here.”
“You’re not my boss.”
“I’m everyone’s boss, sugar. I’m the sheriff.” He hit the bar on the exit door, pushed through, and hauled her around the building.
A few more steps and they disappeared around the back, leaving the noise and the music behind. A few more steps and he stopped. She ran into him from behind, her soft curves pressing against him for a quick moment that scrambled his common sense.
“What the hell?” she growled, but the words stopped as he whirled on her. Their eyes clashed. And he knew in that next instant that maybe hauling her outside, away from prying eyes, wasn’t the smartest thing to do considering he was horny as hell and she was the hottest thing in the entire state of Texas.
* * *
Where Jenna had avoided taking a good look at Hunter inside, she couldn’t help but drink in every inch of him now.
He looked so different without his uniform.
So dark and dangerous and … uh-oh.
He wore a black T-shirt, faded jeans, and a look that said he was royally pissed and not the least bit inclined to hide it. Tension rolled off his body in huge waves. His jaw clenched. A muscle ticked wildly near his left cheek. His eyes had clouded to a dark, stormy blue, like the sky just before it opened up with a vicious summer thunderstorm and she felt every bit of the electricity that stirred the air.
She ignored the tiny thrill that slid through her and damned her traitorous body. “What’s so all-fire important that you had to practically abduct me?”
He inched closer, making her crane her neck to look at him as he towered over her. “You’re wrong. Dead wrong.”
“About what?”
“About not wanting a one-night stand.” His voice lowered a notch. “We’re both consenting adults. You’re hot and bothered and I’m hot and bothered. There’s no reason why we ought to be out looking for other people when it’s obvious that we both want the same thing.”
Physically.
* * *
He punched her buttons and she punched his, and that was the problem in and of itself.
She’d given up the right type because they’d been all wrong. No more bad boys.
At the same time, he just looked like a bad boy. Hunter was every bit the fine, upstanding guy she’d been looking for.
The right man to be seen with.
To fall into bed with.
To fall in love with.
She ditched the last thought. She’d given up on the good guys, too. She had too many things going on in her life to fall in love.
If that were even possible and she wasn’t convinced.
She’d never felt it.
She’d never even seen it.
Sure, she knew her parents had loved each other, but she’d been young when they’d died and she didn’t really remember anything except her dad out working and her mom up to her elbows with the cooking and cleaning at home. And her grandfather yelling and cussing at them both because he’d been ornery and just plain mean.
Most of the time.
She ignored the strange tightening in her chest and focused on the man standing in front of her. The right man, her brain screamed.
But it was the wrong time because Jenna was trying to clean up her image and that meant steering clear of all men.
Her head knew that, but her body wasn’t paying attention at the moment.
Her nipples pebbled and her thighs ached.
“You know we should do this.” His deep voice slid into her ears, so deep and mesmerizing. His eyes blazed with a hunger that kicked her in the chest and sent the air whooshing from her lungs. “Right here, right now.”
Excitement bolted through her, followed by a rush of doubt because while she might want to do this, she couldn’t.
She swallowed past the sudden lump in her throat. “I really don’t think—”
“That’s your problem, Jenna. You think too much when it’s not about that. It’s about this.” And then his mouth swooped down and captured hers.