Jemma: Smokey is out on Indian Mound Road blocking traffic.
It did not take Penelope long to respond.
Penelope: Thanks. On my way.
Penelope loved the stubborn creature so much she allowed it to roam free after it had repeatedly broken out of his pen. She now allowed him free rein of the town, and he always found his way back to her place.
Jemma loved animals, but in her opinion, Smokey was a bit of a nuisance and should be sheltered someplace with a fence to protect it from itself and others. But he also did have his charming moments, too, when he wasn’t up to trouble. He had done this to her twice before, making her late for work. But she put up with the beast after he dropped flowers on the step of her dock one evening when she was lounging by the river. She had patted him and given him the remains of her dinner. He’d happily cleaned her plate and then trotted away.
So once again, Jemma not so patiently waited for the beast to finish his snack of weeds and dandelions, and after he finally lumbered out of the way as slow as he pleased, Jemma began the trek to San Antonio, looking forward to spending time with her adventurous friend.
Calliope was a bit wild, while she had always been more conservative. Jemma reined Calliope in when she needed it, and Calliope pushed Jemma into the world when she needed it. She’d missed her when they’d gone their separate ways after graduation. Calliope to chase storms with a group of storm chasers, and Jemma back to her hometown to take care of her dying aunt, and to get a job at the high school she had left five years earlier. That had been six years ago. Six years of working and saving money to fix up her family home and pay off her college debts. At twenty-nine she’d managed to put enough away to start tackling some of the bigger projects around the ranch house. Calliope had offered to come and stay with her for a bit and help out after the current storm season was over which wouldn’t be until June or July.
Calliope, whom she affectionately called Callie, had come for her aunt’s funeral four years ago to be by her side. They then went to Houston together for a much-needed vacation while she mourned her aunt’s passing. Since then, she had not seen much of her, just a weekend here and there, but they talked on the phone weekly.
Excitement coursed through Jemma at the thought of letting her hair down and hanging out with her best friend for the weekend. It would be like old times back in college. They had gotten into some mischief thanks to Calliope’s prodding of the more reserved Jemma. But after college, Calliope had tamed her wild ways and threw herself into her work—chasing storms. In fact, it had been Calliope that had recommended Lars, one of her fellow storm chasers, to come speak to her environmental AP class that day. He had been a huge hit with her students. She was sure the freshmen AP girls would be talking about the huge, hulking, and handsome blond man for weeks. Heck, they had paid much more attention to him than they normally did to her.
She looked forward to meeting the rest of Calliope’s colleagues, too. As Calliope was older than she was, she had gone to college with them, too. But Jemma had not met them as they had graduated from OU before she started. Calliope had joked that, she herself would be a lifelong student with her multiple degrees. But, Jemma felt like she already knew them from the stories Calliope had told her about each of them over the years.
Chapter 3
Boots Bar & Grill boomed with music that Friday night. The bar Jemma had gone to with Calliope after they freshened up in their hotel room was well known by the locals as one of the best for its country music and live bands. During the day it served the best burgers in San Antonio. It wasn’t often she got to blow off a little steam and have fun with people her own age. The school she worked in was small, and most of the staff were much older and had taught there when she was a student. Socializing with them made her feel out of place.
Calliope had introduced her to her entire team. Shiro Saito, who was the medic on the team and spoke fluent Japanese; Wylder, a twenty-four-year-old woman who was the youngest and newest team member; Oz, who was incredibly handsome; and of course, Lars, the man who had come to speak to her class. They were all there except their boss, Brittney Hart. She had left immediately after the conference and would be returning later in the week to oversee her motley crew of storm chasers.
Calliope’s job was exciting, Jemma would give her that, but also dangerous. Brittney Hart was extremely well-known in meteorological circles. She sold video footage of the storms they chased to all the major networks. Through grants given to her for her research into tornados and the information on her website, she was able to lead her team across the country to study these terrifying weather anomalies. Jemma often worried about her friend and the dangerous work she did, but tonight she vowed to just hang out and have fun.
She hadn’t danced and drunk like this in a while and was thoroughly enjoying herself when Lars whisked her off to the dance floor for the second time. At thirty-something, she estimated, he danced well and led her expertly through the current two-step they were doing. She was out of breath when he led her back to their table to join the others for yet another round of drinks. The man liked to dance, though, and when the next song came on, he grabbed Wylder and practically dragged the young blonde to the floor after him. Everyone laughed when she tried several times to leave him, but he just pulled her back in.
“Don’t fight it, Wylder,” Oz heckled.
“Stomp on his foot,” Calliope suggested.
Even from across the room Jemma saw the wicked grin spread across Wylder’s face, and the whole crew laughed as she tried to do exactly that while Lars avoided her each time.
From the looks of it the crowd around their table had grown larger since she had returned from the dance floor, and one man in particular caught her eye. He was tall. Heck, tall was an understatement.
“Short Stack, this is Short Shit,” Calliope informed her when she noticed Jemma staring.
The joke got another round of laughter from all those surrounding them. Jemma had always been short at just five foot two; the man that Calliope had introduced as Short Shit towered over her.
Calliope clarified at Jemma’s arched eyebrow. “No, seriously, that’s his actual nickname. And his friend here is Lefty. He won’t say why, though.”
The tall man tilted his beer bottle at her in greeting. Beside him was an equally large man whom Calliope had just introduced to her as Richard aka Lefty, a colleague of Shor Shit. Calliope laughed at something Richard said and watched as her friend scampered off to go dance with him.
Jemma turned toward her new companion and laughed. “Ironic nickname I gather,” she stated and reached out her hand to shake his. Sparks flew into her hand at the man’s touch though his hands were slightly rough. An image of those rough hands running along her body came unbidden to her mind. She knew she’d had a little too much to drink. But she was here to have fun. His dark good looks appealed to her, as did his closely cropped beard and mustache. More scruff than anything, and it made him look sexy as hell to her slightly intoxicated brain.
“Guilty as charged, but my actual name is Angel Murphy.”
Jemma felt heat course through her like never before at the sound of the man’s rough voice and the images floating in her mind.
From the look he was giving her, brazen, she knew the man was no angel, and his thoughts were probably running along the same lines as hers. “I’m Jemma.”
“It’s nice to meet you, Jemma. Your friend was telling us you’re from around here, but I’ve never seen you in Boots before.”
Floating in a pleasant alcohol induced haze, she wasn’t so smashed that she failed to register that he frequented this establishment. She wondered if he came here solely to pick up women.
“Not exactly from around here, but I teach in Medina.”
“Ah, that explains it.” His dark brown eyes sparkled at her. “I live over in Banderas and have a small ranch there, though I do work here in San Antonio three days a week at the veterinarian clinic just down the street. I like to keep
busy, but I do enjoy getting out once in a while, too. Richard is my partner at the clinic.”
Angel could not explain his instant attraction to this woman. If he had seen this beauty out and about before, he definitely would have remembered her. He was glad he had come out with Rich tonight after all. He anxiously awaited her reply.
“Yeah, teaching is not as easy as it seems. Keeps me pretty busy.” Jemma absorbed what he said. She discussed her love of animals and her position as a biology and environmental studies teacher.
“Well that explains why your friend told me you don’t get out much. My mother was a teacher before she retired. She was always stuck at home with a stack full of papers to grade. It’s a shame you don’t get out more. A real shame.” Once more his eyes freely scanned over her body.
Calliope had convinced her to dress more daringly than she normally did, so her faded blue jeans were complemented by a red tank top that revealed a great deal of her ample endowments to the gorgeous man standing in front of her.
Jemma heard Calliope laughing as she and Richard made their way back from the dance floor.
“That’s putting it mildly. My friend is obsessed with her work.” Calliope exaggerated her comment with an eye roll.
“Hey, so are you,” Jemma retorted, glaring at Calliope and sensing a set up by the evil smirk she was giving her.
“Speaking of work, I have to run.” Richard glanced at his cell phone. “Something came up at the clinic.” He nodded at the group and waved before saying to Calliope, “Thanks for the dance and the talk.” He winked, and in a flash was gone before anyone could ask questions.
“No problem.” Calliope reached for her beer, and took a long drink of the cold brew.
Jemma leaned in and whispered, “What’s up with him?”
“On call at their clinic so wasn’t drinking. He’s nice. But he’s got it bad for someone else.”
Jemma gave her a sympathetic grin before Angel got her attention once more.
“I’m glad you came out tonight. I’m one of the local vets here in San Antonio. Well, three days a week at least. I’m glad Richard convinced me to come out with him tonight. Though I’m sorry he had to run off, I can stay.”
A veterinarian? Interesting, Jemma thought as she stepped back for a closer look at the man in the dimly lit corner of the bar. He was incredibly tall, and very good looking. His face was extremely tan, darkened by the sun, and possibly due in part to his Latino heritage. His face was chiseled with deep lines in the corner of his eyes, and he had a few grey hairs at the temple. He looked rugged and distinguished at the same time. It was truly a heady combination. His body was incredible, too. Under his Western-style shirt, it looked like he had muscles on top of muscles. The definition in his shoulders and arms was clearly evident beneath the material.
“Absolutely. Sit, join us,” Calliope offered.
Angel did, quickly grabbing the seat next to Jemma. Once sitting, feeling him next to her and the heat emanating off his body, Jemma’s heart skipped a beat. She didn’t know if it was the alcohol or the effect this man was having on her, but she was having a hard time concentrating.
“I’m 34,” he offered, noticing her perusal of him.
She blushed at getting caught examining him too closely, though it was clear he was doing the same.
“I’m 29.”
“I know. Calliope told me all about you when you were dancing with Lars. Sorry,” he bowed his head when her eyes went wide. “I noticed you earlier and your friend caught me staring so she came over like a Good Samaritan and filled me in.”
Jemma had to laugh because Calliope had always been much more daring than she. She had probably noticed the two men right away, and after their discussion in the hotel room earlier knew her friend wanted to do more than just let her hair down tonight.
“Thanks, Callie.” Jemma laughed. “You could have given me the heads up.”
Calliope brushed off her friend’s comment. “You know I don’t sit by when I can pounce.”
Truer words could not have been spoken.
“Well, since I’m at the disadvantage here, how about you fill me in on what my so-called best friend has told you.”
“There’s no so-called about it,” Calliope stated while crossing her arms over her chest.
“I’d be glad to. She gave me the basics. Twenty-nine, single, school teacher, needs to have more fun.” He winked.
“Nothing but the truth,” Calliope stated, tipping back her own beer.
“Let me get the next round,” Angel offered and called the waitress over.
After he ordered a round for everyone, he turned his attention back to her. “So, to be fair, I’m Angel Murphy, which you already know. My father is Irish and my mother Mexican, born and raised in Corpus Christie, brief stint in the Coast Guard to pay for my education. I’m a veterinarian, single, never married, and relocated to San Antonio four years ago to start my own clinic with my friend Richard. I’ve got a small ranch in Banderas county, about forty-five minutes away. I’ve got two younger brothers who are in the Coast Guard, and they are both living and working in Florida.”
“I’m in Banderas county, too.” But before she could continue, Calliope reached for her hand.
“I love this song. Come on, Jemma!”
Jemma laughed, calling over her shoulder, “I’ll be back!”
“Oh, no,” Angel stated firmly as he pushed himself out of his chair. “I’m coming with you.” And just like that he followed the girls to the dance floor.
As soon as they made their way to the center of the dance floor, Jemma’s eyes went wide again, when Angel took her hand and led her in the lively two-step.
Calliope grabbed Wylder and made her an unwilling partner once again.
“Come on, Wy. I can’t be dancing alone,” Jemma heard her friend say and was relieved when Wylder acquiesced.
Angel pulled Jemma close and danced smoothly. He had great rhythm, she noticed. He was an expert, and somehow that shocked her. His hands guided her, and she followed while staring up into his dark almond-shaped eyes.
Angel felt something deep down imagining those round baby blue eyes going wide for some other reason that definitely involved him and her doing something other than dancing together real soon.
The moment he saw the group come in he hadn’t been able to take his eyes off Jemma. He’d only come because Richard had begged him to. Richard had been looking for someone, his ex, and when he hadn’t seen her, he’d wanted to leave right away. But that was when Angel saw her. He spotted her dancing with the big blond guy. He’d wanted to see if he was with her, and that’s when Calliope had spotted him checking out her friend. She’d filled him in.
Jemma was a looker. She had curves in all the right places. He was thrilled that her friend had noticed him staring at the petite blonde beauty. He hadn’t been celibate since moving to town a couple of years ago, in fact had met several willing women in this very bar, but as of late he’d been getting bored and had started thinking about settling down. It was time, his mother kept reminding him. He wasn’t getting any younger. And this woman, so far, had made him react like no other.
Right away, Calliope had given him the green light, so to speak. She’d also informed him that the hulking blond he’d seen her dancing with was not looking to settle down anytime soon. And that he wasn’t interested in the pretty school teacher in a romantic way at all.
After the dance was over, Jemma, breathless and thirsty, returned from the dance floor to their circle of friends at the back of the bar, near the pool tables. And just as Jemma sat down, she saw Frank Reynolds, a colleague from school, shooting a game with three other men she did not recognize. He was staring at her, and she groaned and sank into her seat, hoping he wouldn’t come over. She got along with all her coworkers, but she didn’t always see eye to eye with the chemistry teacher. He was a few years older than her, and had asked her out several times.
She had always politely declined, not wa
nting to have a relationship when she first moved back to Texas, and wanting to be there for her aunt Eden. Plus, she found Frank a tad stuffy and pretentious. They had sometimes clashed at professional development opportunities and disagreed at times over teaching methodologies. But she had always made every effort to be cordial.
When Frank Reynolds realized that she had seen him, he waved exuberantly. She watched as he handed his pool stick to one of the other men playing with him. Jemma quickly glanced away, hoping beyond hope that he would not come over. But alas, it was not in the cards. Just a moment later a shadow leaned over her.
“Jemma, how nice to see you out!”
Jemma pasted a smile on her face and turned to greet him. She then introduced her colleague who, without an invitation, sat down to join them.
“Frank? I’m surprised to see you here in San Antonio. I thought you said you were seeing a movie with friends tonight.”
He’d only mentioned it five times during the week, and twice had asked her to join them, once on her way out the door today.
“Yes, that’s true. I was planning to, but when you mentioned you were coming to San Antonio to hang out with a friend and listen to some good music, that just seemed like a better idea. I haven’t been to the city in a year. Some good music and cold beer sounded like fun. The guys were easily convinced.” He pointed his thumb over his shoulder in the direction of his friends who were now playing doubles pool one man short. “I guess I got lucky in picking this bar and running into you.”
Of all the bars he picked to come to, she inwardly berated herself for mentioning that she was coming to San Antonio at all. “Shouldn’t you go back to your game?” she politely inserted. “I think they’re waiting for you.”
Fighting For Jemma Page 2