“All this mystery over a decorator.” Trudy frowned. “She must have been really good.”
Her friend’s eyes sparkled and her smile returned. “Hon, you have no idea. The stories about her magic touch are legend. The pickiest clients bent to her whim, house parties were saved when she paid a visit the day before. Deals were brokered that wouldn’t have been possible without her knowledge of Feng Shui. And then she disappeared. Her phone was disconnected. People actually hired detectives to try and find her and offer her insane amounts of money to design a closet. Anything. But she’d vanished without a trace.”
“Until now,” Trudy offered with a thoughtful smile. “Still, there must be a good reason, right? People don’t usually turn down that kind of celebrity unless there is.”
Caroline rubbed her hands together. “I’m sure of it. My instincts tell me it’s big, too. And it’s a story that magazine editor wants bad enough to fly me down here…maybe because she’s in desperate need of the perfect curtains. I don’t know and I don’t care. I have to get a good interview.”
Trudy hopped up to sit beside her on the bed and winced. Caroline noticed. Smiled. “But enough about that. Tell me what Big Bad John has in store for you.”
“Just dinner.”
Caroline snickered. “It’s never just dinner with you two. The state your man has been in since he brought you home? The number of times you’ve locked the door to your bedroom after your phone rings? I’d say things are about to get even more interesting. That first night was no more than a warm-up. Now that you’ve been together, been intimate, things will get more intense quickly.”
“Is that usual?” Trudy bit her lip. “I mean, when you’ve negotiated something like this, with sex, is it normal to feel so connected? So out of control?”
“No.” Caroline’s shrug was unapologetic. “I mean, yes, of course sex is the most intimate connection you can have, but there is nothing ordinary about this. Not the kink kind of ordinary. This is personal. I’m your best friend, Tru, so I’m not going to lie to you. I think the Big Bad has come courting, only instead of flowers he’s bringing sexy, naughty toys. Which I personally prefer, but you know me.”
Courting? “But he said no strings. Two weeks.”
“Yes.” She sighed patiently. “And little boys stick out their tongues and pull your braids when they like you. Men lie from the cradle. And yours? He has ‘strings attached’ written in neon right across his big, yummy chest.”
“Thanks. I feel so much better now.” Trudy glared and scooted back off the bed, stopped before she could move away by Caroline pulling her back down on the bed beside her, their heads touching as they stared at the glow in the dark stars stuck to her ceiling.
“I’m sorry. I really don’t want to spoil this for you, but I worry. I’ve seen you in relationships, but I’ve never seen you this caught up in a guy before and I don’t want you to get hurt. Think of me as a sweet little angel on your shoulder.”
Trudy laughed softly. “Sweet huh? But you’re right. I am caught up. It’s hard not to be.”
Caroline held her hand. “Your brother told me about John. How he just appeared one day on the side of the road, did an Incredible Hulk routine and your father took him in, no questions asked. That he doesn’t seem to have a life before that. At least, not one he wants anyone to know about. I can’t help but wonder if there’s a reason. A secret one.”
“You’re a journalist, which means you’re suspicious of everyone.” But a knot formed in her stomach. She used to wonder about it too, but then again there were always drifters looking for work. Sometimes they liked the town. Sometimes they stayed.
And occasionally they were hiding from parole officers.
Trudy bit her lip. “John has lived here for fifteen years with no closet skeleton in sight. If his past were nefarious we’d have found out by now.” She blew out a frustrated breath. “Don’t raise any red flags yet, Caroline. Let me be oblivious. If we’re being honest, I’ve wanted him for most of my adult life. He’s the guy I always measured every other man against. I’m just enjoying it, you know? Trying to live in the moment.”
Trying to fit a lifetime into a two-week moment.
Caroline squeezed her hand tightly. “I’m sorry, you’re right. Ignore me. I’m happy for you. Really, it’s about time. Now if only we could find a man for me.”
“What?” Trudy nudged her side gently with an elbow. “You have men standing in line for a mile out the door. Take your pick.”
“I have frogs. I’ve yet to find my prince.”
“And you said you weren’t a romantic.”
Caroline sat up and started unbraiding her hair. “I’m going to take a cool shower and fix something for the men-folk to eat.” She batted her eyelashes. “I’m picking up the lingo rather well, aren’t I? Be impressed.”
Trudy nodded. “I’m very impressed.”
“I know,” Caroline answered in a sing-song manner. “Though I doubt anyone but Jefferson will eat my cooking. My last boyfriend’s mother was a French chef so I’m perfection in the kitchen, but your brother is probably telling them I’ll poison their food with evil, morally questionable California spices.” She sighed. “At least Glory will be around to save me.”
Glory. The blonde beekeeper and lone woman on the G&J. “What’s she like? I’ve barely spoken to her. She’s never around.”
“Tough cookie, and very salty. But smart.” She ran her hands through her long, silky hair and sighed. “She has those boys eating out of the palm of her hand, though most of the time she appears to be insulting them. Maybe she can give me a few pointers. I’m determined to get one of them flirting with me before I go home. It’s a matter of pride now.” She winked at Trudy. “If I’m not out by the time he picks you up, have some kinky fun for me. I’m officially feeling deprived.”
“I will.”
She hoped he had more than dinner planned. Trudy crossed her fingers and went back to the mirror to look at the marks again. She was a glutton for his kind of punishment. She didn’t want to think about his past or her future. She wanted more.
***
John was a glutton for punishment. What had he been thinking, taking Trudy out on a Wednesday night? Other than Sunday afternoon, Wednesdays were the busiest nights at the few local restaurants on the square. Bingo night.
Another misstep in his attempts at romantic gestures. He’d just—hell, he’d just wanted to go somewhere he’d be forced to keep his hands off her. He couldn’t even call to talk without fighting the urge to make her come for him. To see how far she would let him go. But he wanted her to know this was more than that. More than crazed lust with a side of kink. Dinner had sounded safe.
He didn’t realize they’d be the center of everyone’s fucking attention.
He should have.
Big John and the Adams girl, eating the Wednesday roast pork special together, was apparently front-page news. John was used to people staring. Knew even after all this time they still wondered about him. And that was fine.
This town was full of good people. People who, whether they’d spent the day working their jaws about you or not, would still come carry water if your house was on fire. Would still help you build a barn or a shed. Would still pray for you and genuinely mean it. There were one or two bad apples and exceptions of course, but less than most towns he’d passed through. La Grange was a good place to settle down…as long as you didn’t mind everybody knowing your business.
The attention wouldn’t bother him, but he knew Trudy was uncomfortable with it. Hell, how many times had she complained about small towns and narrow minds before she moved away?
The only thing he could think to do was distract her. He lowered his fork and leaned forward over the table. “Did I tell you how pretty that skirt is, Ms. Adams?”
Trudy’s eyes widened and she shifted subtly in her seat. “Thank you, Mr. Brown. Your pants are fitting nicely this evening as well.”
He couldn’t stop the smi
le that was threatening to form at her sass. He’d always loved that about her. Quick-witted and smart-mouthed and sexy to her bones. Her short white skirt was ruffled like a vanilla layer cake, accentuating her curves, and it was making him hungrier for her than he was for the rest of his dinner.
“Did you do as I asked?”
She gasped and looked down at her plate, reaching for a knife as if she meant cut her meat—or him—with it. She kept her voice low. “Yes, now hush. Reverend Stein is sitting at the table right behind you.”
“I think you know I don’t care, Trudy.”
“Do they serve your barbecue sauce here?” She took a bite of her food and glared at him, her hazel eyes full of warning.
“Our sauce.” John shrugged. “And only during antique week. Several restaurants and shops stock up with local goods when the tourists come to town. Glory’s honey is very popular at the breakfast place on the highway.”
Trudy took a drink and wiped her full lips with her napkin. He wanted to lick those lips again. Wanted to bend her over the table and see if his handiwork was still on her golden skin. He was always so careful about that, aware of himself, but the idea that he’d marked her, that she was his, was heady.
“I never asked.” Trudy was speaking to him. He had to focus. He shifted in his seat. “I mean, you know everything about my family. Do you have any relatives back in Louisiana?”
Ice water in his lap couldn’t have shocked him more. Where had that come from? “No.”
She frowned. “No one at all? Cousin in prison? Drunk uncle you only acknowledge at Christmas with a postcard?”
He sent her a look that he hoped told her she needed to stop this line of questioning before he spanked her in full view of the town. “No.”
“No? Just no? That’s it?” she pressed. “Were you hatched fully formed? No one is an island John. You must have some family.”
John could feel the tension tightening his shoulders. What was she trying to do? When he spoke it was through gritted teeth. “No family, Trudy. No one that was willing to claim me. I stayed with people, but they weren’t the kind of people anyone would call family. Not like yours.”
She blanched and he could see the apology in her expression. “You were in foster care?”
He crumpled his napkin in his fist. “Nothing that official. I told you. Sometimes I stayed with people, sometimes I didn’t. End of story.”
It was a story John had thought he’d forgotten. The kid who slipped through the cracks until he was too big and tall not to be noticed. Until he was useful.
Catching their waitress’s eye, he nodded and pulled out his wallet.
Trudy reached out to grab his hand. “I’m sorry. I just—I’m just trying to know more about you.”
He met her gaze. “If you don’t by now you never will. There’s no mystery to solve. This is who I am.” Who he’d always wanted to be.
“John I—”
A grating, familiar and completely unwelcome voice interrupted Trudy before she could respond.
“Well, that was quick. Back in town less than a week and you’re already looking for trouble?” Tommy stared pointedly at Trudy’s hand on John’s. “Sandy told us you and that hot chick from Hollywood were an item, but I can see you decided to try your luck with our local hero here. The barbecue king…at least he will be once your brother heads west to make a fool out of himself on the TV.”
Trudy was glaring, but she pulled her hand away from John’s as everyone—some subtly and some not—turned in their direction. “I don’t believe you were invited to the table, Tommy, but thanks for stopping by on your way out.”
The jackass laughed and whacked his hat against his hip. “Come on, Trudy, you and I go way back. Just because you’re an Internet sensation now, that’s no cause to be rude. I knew you when, girl. I was your lookout when you wanted to let Bobby Lane get to second base behind the bleachers without getting caught. Good times, remember? Why don’t you ditch this old giant and come out with me tonight? You can let me have another look at that cute flying bunn—”
John saw red. Before he knew what he was doing, his chair had been pushed back and he had Tommy up on his toes as he held him up by his collar.
“Boys.” The Reverend’s voice behind him broke through his rage. “I think everyone should go back to their corners now. People didn’t pay for ringside seats with their dinner.”
“Yeah.” Tommy pulled away, his chin lifting bravely as John lowered his hand.
Reverend Stein sighed. “Thomas Geise, I thought you were old enough for me to stop coming by your property to pray with your father on you finding your way. Sadly, I was mistaken. Go on home and tell him to expect me after dessert.”
When the idiot man-child seemed as if he might argue, John moved an inch closer, silently begging for a reason to beat him into the ground. Tommy scowled and turned to stomp out of the restaurant, and several people at the tables nearest the Reverend clapped in polite approval.
The waitress sent him an understanding grimace as she sped away with his credit card, and John shook Reverend Stein’s hand. “Sorry, sir.”
“Completely understandable.” Stein shook his head. “I can’t tell you how many times I thanked God I didn’t have the strength to do just that. But you might want to take Trudy home now, to save the rest of my flock from further sin.”
John nodded. “That was my plan.”
The waitress handed him his card and—without looking at her or speaking, because, what could he say?—he reached for Trudy’s hand and pulled her behind him and out the door to the parking lot.
“Wait a second.” Trudy yanked against his grip, though he didn’t stop until they were at the truck. “John, damn it, wait.”
John turned and walked toward her until her back was against the passenger door. “What, Trudy?”
She lifted her stubborn chin. “I could have handled Tommy. I work in the restaurant business, and before that I sang in some of the dingiest dives you can imagine. I can take care of myself.”
Did she want him to apologize for stopping Tommy’s insulting, innuendo-laced talk? He wouldn’t do it. No one was allowed to talk to her like that, not in front of him. Not and get away with it.
“Thank you.”
That got his attention. “What did you say?”
Trudy bit her lip, looking up at him with something soft and promising in her eyes. “You were upset with me but you still came to my rescue. And the look on Tommy’s face…well… Thank you.”
His lips quirked upward. “You’re welcome. Now that we’ve ruined dinner, what do you say we catch that show?”
Trudy’s look was skeptical. “There is no movie theater, and I doubt any actors would come to the school stage. Is the drive-in still open?”
He tugged her close to him as he opened the door, lifting her up by her hips until she was in the seat. He pulled the seatbelt over her delicious breasts, the back of his hand brushing her nipple before he spoke. “I said I was taking you to a show. I never said what kind. The drive-in is closed up now, but I can still get in if you’re interested. We can save that for another night.”
“Now I’m curious.”
“Good,” he murmured, leaning closer until he could feel her breath on his cheek. His hand dropped to her knee and slid up beneath her skirt. To touch her. Just to…
He groaned silently. No underwear. Good girl. “Curious is good.”
Begging would be even better.
Chapter Seven
Trudy had a hell of a time concentrating on where they were going during the half-hour drive. Though her thoughts were split between John’s revealing reactions to her questions and his politically incorrect—but damned arousing—defense of her at the table, her entire body responded eagerly to what his hand was doing between her legs.
He’d told her not to move, but it was harder to obey than she imagined it would be when his fingers were doing such wicked things to her clit, her sex.
When he
turned onto the property and took one of the narrower gravel roads along the fence line that led to the old bunkhouse, she wanted to beg him to turn around and take her back to his bed instead. Only one day and it seemed like a lifetime since he’d held her. Taken her. But she didn’t. She was abiding by their agreement and letting him take the lead. Submitting the way she promised she would.
But she couldn’t deny her curiosity.
“Why are we here? I thought you were taking me to see a show.”
John parked and shut off the headlights. “I am. I’m willing to bet you that tonight will be a performance you won’t soon forget.” He patted her knee and opened his door, disappearing from the truck cab.
What on earth?
She unbuckled her seatbelt, and turned around to watch him open the truck box and rifle through it. When he pulled out the smooth, purple coils of nylon rope, she suspected she might be in trouble. She knew that rope, had handled others like it a hundred times. Had been bound with it.
It wasn’t meant for the ranch.
He held it wound around one hand, grabbing something else that was attached to clanking chains before gesturing to her with a bob of his head to join him.
She opened the door, studying him with a new, nervous excitement blooming inside her like a flower opening to the intense heat of the sun. “John?”
His smile was clearly meant to ease her nerves. “Trust me, Trudy. We won’t do anything you don’t want to do. And you know I know what I’m doing.”
She did. How many times had she read his profile with admiration and jealousy struggling for dominance inside her? He had experience—much more than she’d ever imagined. She didn’t want to think about with whom or how many he’d gotten that experience, but she did want to benefit from it. Wanted to experience what it would be like to be bound by him. Bound to him.
“Follow me.” John turned and walked into the tree line, his strides so long she had to jog to catch up to him. Thank goodness she hadn’t worn heels.
Big Bad John (Bigger in Texas Series) Page 9