“And how does this relate to your barbecue sauce boycott?”
“My mother likes everything really spicy. She can eat her way through an entire bottle of Hell, Fire & Brimstone. Meanwhile, my great-aunt has a really sensitive digestive tract and she can’t tolerate anything more than Sissy Sauce. We always had a bottle of each in our cupboard.”
“And?”
“And if I used the Sissy Sauce, I had to hear it from my mother. And if I used the more potent stuff, I had to hear it from Aunt Izzie. No sauce, no argument.”
“Sounds like the easy way out.”
“You try eating dry ribs. So what about you?” she rushed on, eager to distract herself from the sudden urge to reach out and take a taste of his sauce. “Any dysfunctional relatives waiting at home?”
He shook his head. “I never knew my father. My mother tried to raise me, but she couldn’t really take care of herself, much less me. When I was nine, I went to live with this couple who owned a nearby ranch.”
“That was nice of them to take you in.”
“I don’t think nice had anything to do with it.” His gaze brightened until Nikki could have sworn she saw a flash of red.
Red?
She blinked. His eyes faded into a rich, molten silver and she was left to wonder if maybe, just maybe, she hadn’t inhaled too much mesquite smoke near the barbecue pits. “That must have been tough,” she rushed on, eager to distract herself from the crazy thought. “Being away from your mother like that.” “I survived.” She waited for him to elaborate, but he didn’t.
“My mom and my aunt Izzie drive me crazy, but I don’t know what I would do without them.”
“I do.” A knowing light gleamed in his eyes. “You wouldn’t be eyeballing my barbecue sauce. You’d be eating some.” He held up his plate and challenge gleamed in his gaze. “You know you want a taste.”
The scent wafted toward her and teased her nostrils. Before she could stop herself, she reached out and dipped her rib into the excess sauce. She brought the juicy bite to her lips. Taste exploded on her tongue, followed by a rush of fire that brought tears to her eyes.
“I should stick to the mild stuff,” she murmured after she’d taken a long gulp of iced tea.
“You’re still breathing. I’d say you handled it pretty well.” A knowing light gleamed in his gaze and her heart stalled.
Her nipples tingled and she felt an aching throb between her legs. She wanted so much to dip her finger into the decadent sauce and rub it onto his sensuous mouth. Then touch her lips to his and sweep her tongue back and forth, tasting and nibbling and—
“Look,” she rushed on, eager to kill the dangerous thought, “I know you probably think I’m pretty wild because of last night.”
“And because of how fast you agreed to my counter offer tonight,” he added, a grin tugging at his lips.
The expression eased her anxiety and she barely resisted the urge to smile. “I know how it looks, but I’m really not like that.” She lowered her voice and leaned forward. “I don’t usually sleep with someone outside of a relationship.”
No way, no how was she going to fall into like with Jake McCann. Her mother had done that too many times to count, and she’d never managed to settle down. Not that she’d wanted to, of course. And so she’d fallen for men who hadn’t been anything close to relationship material. They’d been good-looking. And only interested in sex. And very, very temporary.
Which described Jake McCann to the proverbial T.
His knee brushed hers under the table. Goose bumps chased up and down her skin. He didn’t say anything as his gaze held hers, and she had the sudden urge to keep talking.
“Actually, I don’t usually sleep with someone in arelationship. I mean, I have, but only after I’ve really gotten to know that person.” She waited for him to say something, anything, but he simply looked at her, into her, as if seeing everything she’d yet to say. “Not that waiting did much good. The guys still turned out to be all wrong.”
“Even this last guy? What was his name?”
Suddenly she couldn’t seem to think of it. The only thing she could think of was how silver Jake’s eyes were and how soft his lips had felt and how she really, really wanted to feel them again.
“Especially whatshisname,” she rushed on before she could dwell too much on her sudden memory loss. “I didn’t think so at first—but then, that’s the story of my life. Meet a guy and get to know him before I sleep with him. Not that he and I slept together. Almost. But almost doesn’t count. So you see, I’m really not like that.”
He eyed her. “Like what, sugar?”
“You know. A bad girl.”
A grin tugged at his lips. “There’s nothing wrong with being a little bad every now and again.”
If only.
She stifled the traitorous thought. She’d promised herself a long time ago that she wouldn’t follow in her mother’s footsteps—and she’d meant it. No hopping from one man to the next. No looking for love in all the wrong places. No ignoring everyone and everything in the process.
No rolling into work late, missing appointments, disappointing clients.
She stifled a sudden surge of guilt as she remembered that morning. She’d made a mistake. But Nikki learned from her mistakes and she wasn’t going to let it happen again. She wasn’t going to forget everything over a man—especially the wrong man.
“You build motorcycles, right?” she blurted, eager to fill up the sudden silence. Besides, the more she knew about him, the more she would realize that he was all wrong for her. “How did you get into that?”
He hesitated, and she couldn’t help but think he was gauging just how much he wanted to tell her. “I’ve always loved to ride, but I couldn’t really find a bike that I liked,” he finally said. “So I decided to build my own.”
“And?”
“I’d just finished when I ran into the editor for Texas Chopper Magazine at a local dealership where I’d gone to buy extra parts. He saw the bike and wanted to photograph it.” He shrugged. “I let him. I didn’t think anything about it. But the magazine got a flood of inquiries and, just like that, I was in business.”
“What did you do before then?”
“Different things.” His gaze locked with hers. “I’ve herded cattle, nailed up Sheetrock, fixed transmissions.” He shrugged. “I don’t really like to be tied down.”
“Does that go for your personal life, as well?”
“Especially my personal life.”
“A commitmentphobe.” She smiled despite the sudden disappointment that rolled through her.
“I prefer the term confirmed bachelor.” His mouth hinted at a grin.
She ignored her fluttering heart and concentrated on taking another bite of her food. “Same thing,” she said after she’d swallowed. “Most commitmentphobes were either burned once and so they now avoid the big C or they’re suffering from some hidden angst that makes them frightened of getting close to anyone for fear of discovery. So which is it with you?” She waved a rib at him. “Are you gun-shy or angsty?”
He sipped his iced tea and regarded her. “Does it matter?”
“Just curious.” She narrowed her gaze and gave him a knowing look. “Of course, if you don’t answer, then I’ll assume you fall into the hidden-angst category because all hidden angsters don’t want people to know they’re screwed up. Hence the term hidden.”
“I thought you were a hairdresser, not a therapist.”
“In a small town like Skull Creek, the two are synonymous. Same goes for bartenders.” She shrugged. “It’s okay if you don’t feel comfortable coming out of the closet at this point.” As soon as she made the statement, he frowned, and she couldn’t help herself. “We really haven’t known each other very long. Most of the men I’ve known wait until we’ve had at least a few more dates before they start acting weird—”
“I was married once,” he cut in. “A long, long time ago. But it didn’t work out.”
“Why?” The question was out before she could stop herself.
He hesitated again, as if deciding how much he wanted to admit to her. Or to himself. “I had some problems…” He shook his head. “She couldn’t deal with them and so she took off. That’s it.”
The sudden flicker of pain over his features sent a cattle prod straight to her heart. “I’m really sorry.”
“Don’t be.” He shrugged. “Things were tough. I was tough. She did what she had to do. She found someone else and moved on.”
“Did you hit her?”
Surprise flashed in his molten gaze. “Excuse me?”
“Did you hit her? Slap? Punch? Kick? Abuse her physically in any way shape or form?”
“Hell, no. I would never hurt a woman.”
As if she didn’t already know.
She did. While Jake stirred many feelings inside of her, fear wasn’t one of them. The only thing Nikki feared was her reaction to him.
Fierce.
Overwhelming.
Addictive.
“What about mentally?” she prodded. “Were you controlling? Did you make her feel worthless? Unappreciated? Dumb? Fat?”
His initial outrage turned to amusement, as if the very idea was so far out of his realm of thought. “Hardly.”
“How about her underwear? You didn’t wear it, did you?”
A grin played at his lips. “I like peeling off women’s undies, not wearing them.”
As if she didn’t already know.
Jake McCann had his own fetish. He was a bona fide sex maniac. Otherwise, he never would have made such an offer.
“What about her shoes?” she asked, eager to keep her mind on the topic rather than the anticipation that settled between her legs.
“They didn’t fit.”
“Her dresses?”
“Nope.”
“Jewelry?”
“Nada.”
“Then she shouldn’t have betrayed you with another man. A promise is a promise. It’s meant to be kept. That’s why it says for better or for worse.” She shook her head. “I’m never going to turn my back on someone I love. Ever.” Her gaze met his. “Nobody deserves that.”
“It doesn’t matter.” That’s what Jake said. What he told himself as he stared across the table at Nikki and saw the certainty gleaming in her honey-colored eyes.
He’d long ago come to terms with what had happened. He’d been turned into a monster, for chrissake. Enslaved by evil, his body forever marked with the proof of that enslavement by the bands on his arms.
After that fateful night, Jake had camped out in the barn, sleeping all day and staying out all night. He’d been in denial then, living off the local livestock, frantically praying that the “sickness” would pass. Deep down, he’d known the truth, but he hadn’t wanted to accept what had happened to him. And so he’d ignored it and tried to keep going. He’d worn long-sleeve shirts to conceal the marred skin of his arms. He’d grown reclusive, pale, sick.
Ellen had been more concerned with her own misery than his. She’d hitched a ride with a cowboy who’d been passing through town and left for good, and Jake had been glad.
For her sake.
Her father had followed. It had been the late 1800s, after all, and her father had been old-fashioned even for that day and age. He’d gone after her, determined to bring her back and mete out justice for the shame she’d caused him, and Jake had ridden in the opposite direction.
He’d been running ever since.
Nikki, for all her fancy words, would have up and left just like Ellen. Any woman would have. At the same time, with her staring so earnestly at him, sincerity gleaming in the intoxicating depths of her eyes, he could almost believe she meant what she said.
Not that he really cared one way or another. The past was the past and all that mattered now was the future.
The coming battle.
“Let’s get out of here,” he said, pushing to his feet.
“But you haven’t even touched your food.”
“I don’t want food, sugar.” His gaze caught and held hers. “I want you.”
“LET’S TAKE A RIDE.” Jake’s deep voice slid into Nikki’s ears as he pulled her to a stop in front of the Ferris wheel.
They were just shy of the carnival entrance, and with every step Nikki’s heart had beat that much faster. The frantic thump paused and took a nosedive straight into the murky depths of disappointment. “Now? But I thought…That is—” she glanced around at the crowd that moved around them “—I thought you wanted to get out of here.”
“The point is to get in, darlin’, not out.” The serious expression that had carved his features earlier had faded and he’d lapsed into the charming Southern bad boy once again. “Besides, we’ve got all these tickets. Seems a shame to waste them, don’t you think? Then again, you probably have a curfew.” He winked. “What with you being such a good girl and all.”
“I’m good but not that good.”
“We’ll see.” Desire gleamed hot and bright in his gaze.
“But…” But nothing. This wasn’t about the future, she reminded herself. It was about right now. The next few days. Which meant there was nothing wrong with letting her hair down and indulging her inner vixen.
For a little while.
“Let’s ride,” she told him.
“’Atta girl.” He winked, and heat rushed through her body, firebombing every major erogenous zone along the way. Her cheeks heated, her nipples burned and the temperature between her legs spiraled to a dangerous level. It was a cool October night for Texas, yet she felt as if she were suddenly smack-dab in the middle of a sweltering summer.
Breathless. Anxious. Bad.
Jake guided her past the maze of ropes, toward the entrance to the ride.
“Hey, there, Nikki.” The woman standing guard at the entrance to the platform smiled before shifting her attention to Jake and the tickets he handed over.
“Hi, Willa. How’s business at the bakery?” Willa Avery owned Sweet Eats and served as secretary for the chamber of commerce. She also volunteered for every chamber-sponsored event—in this case, the carnival—and kept the gossip flowing every Tuesday morning at the weekly meeting of the ladies’ auxiliary.
“I can’t complain.” Her gaze roved over Jake. “I guess it’s true. I heard you had a new boyfriend, but I didn’t see as how it could be true.” She spared a glance at Nikki. “What with it only being a few weeks since you and Bill split. Nikki isn’t one to hop from boyfriend to boyfriend,” she told Jake. “This whole thing seems too sudden, if you ask me.”
“I’ve never been long on patience when it comes to something I want,” Jake said. “I took one look and I knew she was the one. It was the same for Nikki here.”
“Is that true?” Surprise swept Willa’s face—not that Nikki could blame her. She’d spent her entire life proving to everyone that she wasn’t her mother and she’d succeeded. Maybe a little too well.
“I wouldn’t say it happened that fast. We knew each other before we decided to get involved.” All of five seconds, she added silently.
“Really? How did you meet?”
“Hair convention,” Nikki told her.
Willa’s gaze swiveled to Jake. “You one of them models?”
“He’s a stylist,” Nikki blurted before Jake could reply. “He gives a mean perm. Don’t you, honey?”
Willa’s perplexed gaze shifted to Jake, who didn’t look the least bit happy about his new talent. Up on the platform, the Ferris wheel operator—a young man wearing a yellow Carnivals-R-Us shirt—unlocked the door of one of the cars, and a handful of giggling girls climbed out.
Nikki hooked her arm with his. “Don’t be shy, honey. You know you’re good.”
“The best in Texas,” he grunted as Nikki elbowed him.
“He means the second best,” she told Willa. “Don’t I have you scheduled next week?” Nikki asked as the operator unlocked and opened the next car. Another gr
oup of kids spilled out.
“Friday morning. Norman’s taking me out for our anniversary and I want to look my best.” Willa smiled. “He made reservations at my favorite restaurant and even booked us a room at one of them fancy hotels in Austin.”
“Too sweet.”
“He knows how to treat the woman who cooks him pot roast and new potatoes every Sunday. You’d do well to take a lesson from him, young man.” She turned to Jake. “Nikki here is a nice girl, and you’d better treat her good.” She wagged a finger at him. “No lying or cheating or borrowing her bikini panties. She’s had enough of that to last her a lifetime.”
“No worries there.” Jake grinned. “I’m a brief man myself.”
“Good for you.” Willa motioned them toward the now-empty platform. “Have fun.”
“We will,” Jake murmured as he cupped Nikki’s elbow and urged her up the steps. His lips grazed her earlobe and excitement rippled down her spine. “That’s a promise.”
10
NIKKI TRIED TO CALM her pounding heart as she settled on the vinyl-covered seat. Jake slid in next to her and pulled the bar across their laps until it locked into place.
She turned her head and tried to draw a deep breath that didn’t smell of leather and hot, hunky male. She caught a whiff of candied apples and popcorn from a nearby concession stand, but the scents only served to make matters worse. Her stomach rumbled with renewed hunger and she damned herself for getting the ribs rather than something loaded with sugar. Jake sat too close, his thigh pressed firmly against hers, his scent teasing her nostrils, his strength surrounding her.
The closer, the better.
She drop-kicked the notion out as soon as it pushed its way in. While she might be looking forward to keeping her end of the bargain, she didn’t intend to start here and now, in full view of everyone. What would they all think?
That she was every bit as wild and reckless as her mother had been. As irresponsible.
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