Bind Me Close: 3 (Knights in Black Leather)

by Cerise DeLand

  Then he’d keep her as long as he could. If he was lucky maybe she’d forget she wanted to exhibit herself to him in front of another man.

  The one thing he couldn’t do, she craved.

  He could he avoid it and keep her for himself?

  Chapter Nine

  The barbeque joint Giles took her to Tuesday night was just outside of town in a rustic building that had once been a barn. Diners filled all the other seats.

  “This place is popular,” she said as Giles led her to the rough-hewn table covered in butcher paper and pulled out her chair to seat her.

  “Yes. Famous and infamous.”

  “Why’s that?”

  “The No Fork is the only part left of what was the biggest cattle ranch in Bravado County. Once owned by the Benedicts too,” he told her with pride.

  “Oh, no.” She laughed. “More relatives?”

  He nodded, his soft brown hair dipping over his brow, his hazel eyes dancing. “My cousins. Not yours. My ancestor was, I’m sorry to say, a cattle rustler.”

  She winced, laughing. He was easy to be with. Kind and jovial. The softer side of masculine, Giles Benedict could certainly appeal to her as a date. She criticized herself for that. But last night as she and Wade had eaten dinner he had become distant, morose. Why that had happened she had only a small, nasty idea. He hadn’t liked her intimate revelations.

  Then things had gotten worse after he called her early that morning and asked her to come for dinner again.

  “I’m sorry, Wade. I have another engagement.”

  The silence on the other end of the line had sounded like a bomb.

  “I see,” he’d said at last, bitterness lacing his words. “Well, I’ll be sure to put in my bid earlier.”

  “Wade, don’t be like that. I am only being neighborly and—”

  “Who is it?” When she hadn’t answered he’d cursed and hung up. In a second he’d called back. “Sorry, Willow. Being an ass. See you Wednesday night for dinner?”

  His proprietary nature had riled her. “I’m working Wednesday night. Thanks for the offer.”

  “Don’t be like that.”

  “Don’t you,” she’d said, and rang off.

  All day she’d felt lost, wondering if she had ended her relationship with Wade and hoped to god she hadn’t. That question nibbled at her good spirits even now. Wade was controlling, demanding. A part of her liked that he took the lead. He’d been kind, never abusive. But he had asked for honesty and she’d given it. If then, he didn’t like what he heard and went off in a huff, that was his problem. This morning she had snapped back. Too bad for him.

  How is it you could crawl into bed with men, they could invite you to bare all, literally and figuratively, and then slam a door in your face?

  Primal possession was an instinct men often used to poor advantage.

  And here with Giles she was enjoying herself. Not as a reaction to Wade’s chilly behavior. But as a real appreciation for the kind doctor. And if I am now interested in the doctor? My life and my hormones are my own to do with as I damn well please!

  She trained her attention on him as he told her more about his family.

  “I know. Good news is he went straight eventually and so did his descendants. Made millions over the last century until one man gambled away the family fortune. Now that man’s sons, the latest Benedicts, Burt and Rance, decided to sell off the land when their dad died. But they kept the barn. One man cooks and the other does the operation. Today the BBQ is famous. You can see the awards on the walls.”

  “They’re famous. Great. I’m hungry,” Willow said, glad to be so at ease with Giles after all the time she’d spent with Wade.

  The waitress appeared and handed over big slabs of wood inset with menus. Willow scanned it. The choices were few. That didn’t matter because the aromas wafting around her were rich and enticing but the hair on her arms prickled. She looked up at the very pretty brunette who had a very ugly frown on her face.

  “What’ll you have for starters, Willow?” Giles asked, putting aside his menu and seemingly unaware of the young woman’s glare at her.

  “Beer, draft.” She smiled at him.

  “Great. Make that two with lime, Leanne.”

  “Sure,” the waitress bit off with a snarl. “Anything else I can get you? Have lots here that’s really good. Especially for someone who’s never been.”

  Giles examined her for a long second before he said, “That’s true. Willow Turner, this is Leanne Wainwright. Leanne obviously knows you’re new to us. Willow is here to do family research.”

  “Is that so? Thought it was something else,” she said, never taking her eyes from Willow’s. “But I hear you like Bravado just fine.”

  “You’ve heard correctly.” Willow nodded, her tone more mellow than her sharp irritation at the woman’s puzzling attitude. “It’s a lovely little town.”

  “Staying on, are you?”

  With Jed’s discussion of an opening at the high school Willow had considered applying for it. Aside from the idea of having Skye near she wanted Wade near her. His little caresses and kisses, his endearments had worked their way into her blood. She wanted to be rational about her enchantment with him but what was a girl to do with all that affection? She’d never had so much. But this woman, whoever she was and whatever her beef with Willow, was a nosy little bugger and Willow intended to close her out of this conversation. For spite Willow bit back, “If you heard that too, Leanne, then your source is very ill-informed.”

  Leanne lost the predatory look in her eyes. “I’ll tell him.”

  Would Wade tell her? Not Jed, surely. Why would Wade indicate that she might stay? To this woman? Had she been Wade’s ‘regular’? Hell.

  “Enough, Leanne.” Giles intervened in the tense silence. “We’ll look at the menu awhile. I’ll give you the high sign when we’re ready to order.”

  Leanne, hand on her hip, stared at him for a long minute then sashayed off.

  “I assume you have the menu memorized,” Willow teased him, wishing to avoid any discussion of the rude waitress. Maybe she just disliked strangers in her town. It happened.

  “Not hard to do.” He grinned.

  “How are the baby back ribs?”

  “Finger-licking good. The chicken wings. The corn on the cob. The beans. Shall I order for us?”

  She put down her menu. “Please.”

  “One thing you have to know is that the name of the restaurant means something.”

  Willow looked at him, feigning horror. “Oh no. What?”

  “It’s how we eat here.”

  Willow chuckled. “No fork? You’re kidding.”

  “No knives either.”

  “Oh, come on! Tell me you don’t eat the charro beans with a fork?”

  “Spoons.”

  “And the coleslaw?”

  “Same.”

  She winced. “Messy.”

  “That’s the whole idea. To get down and dirty with the food. Leanne should be back with the complimentary bibs for us.”

  “Hope she doesn’t have to tie mine on. She’ll strangle me.”

  “She’s got a burr up her ass but she’ll calm herself. She’s wise. But now we’re here to have fun and trust me, the food’s worth the mess.”

  Willow grinned. “How often do you have to go home and shower after a night of fine dining?”

  “Never. And I’d rather go dancing. Do you like to dance?” His eyes lit up.

  “Yep. And I don’t believe in sitting any of them out.”

  He reached across the table and squeezed her hand. “My kind of woman.”

  Willow glanced at his hand. With elegant fingers, he had a light touch. The caring hands of a physician. She let him linger and withdraw in his own time. Her eyes met his and in the depths there was a spark of interest. Sexual interest. Emotional interest. A man who would romance her before he’d try to get her into bed? She certainly thought so. There was charm to that kind of man as well
as the more aggressive approach of one like Sheriff Wade Saxon.

  Giles leaned back to let Leanne set their beers before them. Huge mugs, the glasses were frosty, brimming with suds. Leanne let Willow’s slosh over the rim.

  “Get a few more napkins, will you please, Leanne?” Giles asked with a no-nonsense tone.

  Leanne glared at him.

  “Quickly. Willow’s beer is going to drip into her lap. But then,” he said with his nostrils flaring, “you knew it would.”

  “Fine.” She waltzed away.

  “She has something stuck in her craw,” he said, his gaze following the woman as she sashayed to her station and marched back with a pile of napkins. When she stood before them and plunked them in front of Willow, Giles said, “Stop this. I’ll ask for a different table. Or maybe I’ll go back to the bar, find Burt and let him in on what a witch you are tonight.”

  Leanne stiffened at the name of one of the owners. “No need for that.”

  “I’m glad. Want to apologize to Miz Turner?”

  Leanne trained her hard baby blues on Willow. “Not really. But I’ll smile, okay?” Then she threw Willow a strained expression.

  “Gee,” Willow said as Leanne trotted off, “I should check in the mirror for signs I’m turning to stone. What is her problem?”

  She asked the question lightly but the wince on Giles’ face told her he knew the answer. Would he tell her? “Okay. Lay it on me.”

  “The rumor mill is working where you’re concerned.”

  Willow arched both brows. Oh, boy. What’s the worst folks could say?

  “Lots of people saw you driving Wade Saxon’s car. And he gives it—”

  “To no one,” she finished with him. “He was kind. My rental was totaled. What’s the big deal about that?”

  Giles tipped his head toward Leanne serving at another table. “Leanne and Wade have been known to be an item.”

  “I see.” Confirmation. So Leanne was Wade’s style? Sassy and vengeful.

  “And he’s never let Leanne drive one of his cars.”

  “Does she need one?”

  “Not that I’ve ever known.” Giles took Willow’s hand again, this time in a comforting caress. “Forget her. She’ll be fine now. This is her main job and she’s one of the best waitresses here. But Burt Benedict is no one to mess with. He’d have her out the door before she could shed a tear.”

  Willow shifted, uneasy that this woman who liked her job and was good at it might risk it by being rude to a customer who she knew had received a favor from the man with whom she was “an item”.

  And just what does that make me? To Wade, am I a new item? An addition to his menu? A tidbit he samples? Or…worse. Am I the new available woman in town who has been romanced into the bed of the first man I’ve met?

  Willow froze, her body awash in a chilling idea. Everyone had been telling her about the lack of women in this county. How females were needed, coveted. Drawn into town to provide…what? Fun, friendship, love, sex with the men who abounded here. Was every woman prey to the attractive men who seemed to seep out of the woodwork everywhere she went?

  And if the men were so plentiful, and the women so scarce, why was someone like Leanne Wainwright still single? Okay, so perhaps she was such an immature little bitch 24/7 that no man wanted her for the long haul. Or maybe she didn’t want to get hitched to one man’s wagon. Or did she want just one man—Wade—and she just couldn’t land him?

  “Forget about Leanne.”

  Giles’ order flicked her back to where she was and the nice guy she was with.

  “I will.”

  “How did your research go today? You were with Samantha, weren’t you?”

  She nodded, grateful for the new topic, her favorite one. “I was. Wonderful day. Got lots of work done. The number of family letters she and Case have is astonishing. I wouldn’t have thought there would be so many, what with the Turners and the MacRaes living here in the same county.”

  “You have to remember that a lot of them didn’t speak to each other for years. Fancy and her brother Jeremiah and her sister Collette never reconciled. So many of the other relatives were angry at each other for Jeremiah’s stubbornness and prejudice against Fancy and Blade that they didn’t speak either. The only way they communicated was to write each other nasty letters.”

  “Why do it at all?”

  “Amen. Guess they had to get their anger out.”

  “I guess. But I’m shocked too that they kept the letters.”

  “I know. It’s as if they wanted to create a record of how they hated each other.”

  “And I think they even fought over it. There was a letter from Jeremiah to Reg Saxon in which he talked about coming over with his friends and taking ‘that woman out of the house and riding her back to the reservation where she belonged’.”

  Giles stared at her. “You don’t know…”

  “What?”

  “I guess you didn’t ask Sam about that passage?”

  “No. I was trying to absorb all of it and reading quickly. What should I know about that letter?”

  “That woman he wrote about wasn’t Fancy.”

  “No? Well, who then?”

  “It was Willow Talks, Bull Elk’s young sister. And I know because my great-grandfather Cyrus Benedict wanted to marry her. And so did Reg Saxon’s little brother Wade.”

  Willow sat straight up. “I don’t know anything about Bull Elk’s little sister other than she helped Fancy escape the tribe after he died.”

  Giles nodded. “Willow Talks was Fancy’s best friend and when the tribe realized that she had helped Fancy they made life hard for her. She left, came to live with Fancy and the MacRaes and evidently fell in love with two men.”

  Willow dropped her mouth open. “Your great-grandfather and—”

  “Right. And Reg Saxon’s little brother Wade.”

  Ghosts of her ancestors passed around her, gray shades murmuring of old sorrows. She shivered in their shadow. “What happened?”

  “She returned to the tribe, never married either man. Each man blamed the other.”

  “Blade wrote in his diary only that his Aunt Willow was a famous medicine woman. He remembered how she would come at night to visit them now and then but he doesn’t say much else.”

  “Cyrus had a picture taken of her. I’d like to show you. It’s old. Very fragile. But you will like it.” His eyes faceted into a spectrum of greens and browns. “She was quite beautiful.”

  Willow pressed her hands together, solemn at his tone. “You’re not saying all you want me to know.”

  “No. I want you to see her.”

  She agreed. “What’s good for you?”

  “After we go dancing?”

  “Sure.”

  Leanne returned and this time she had no chip on her shoulder. Giles ordered their dinner and they indulged in small talk as they polished off a gigantic rack of ribs and all the fixings. When he told Leanne they both needed a cut of tequila lime pie Willow complained of possibly exploding.

  “I’ll never get on the floor to dance.”

  “Nope. Have the pie. You need your energy.”

  That sounded all too much like Wade to her and she went silent, brooding again about him, her and Willow Talks.

  “Don’t go back there,” he urged her, taking her hand again. “Stay here with me.”

  “Okay. Funny, you talk about staying here.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Yesterday I got a job offer from Jed for my sister Skye and me too. To teach school. I called Skye this morning and she is really excited. Filled out the online app as we talked.”

  “Hot damn. That would be great if she moved here! Would you consider coming too?”

  She shrugged. “Not sure. I’d have to think over all the issues.”

  “But your sister is ready, huh?”

  “Teaching jobs are still tough to find, what with all the budget cuts since the recession. She wants to stay in Texas beca
use she’s a team roper. Very amateur at this point but she loves the excitement of it. Plus, she’s young, very pretty too, even if she swears she’ll never marry anyone.”

  “Why’s that?”

  “The usual story. Had her heart broken. She’s sweet though and some man will scoop her up and treasure her.” Willow went quiet, thinking about the odds of landing a man here. They were so good. But sound relationships were built on more than initial attractions. “Lord knows, she would eat up the attention she’d get here.”

  “Where the men are good and plenty?” he asked, squeezing her hand. “Willow, let me say this. I like you and not just because you’re an available woman. And time is the best way to learn if a man and woman are meant for each other.”

  “Wow. If you ever decide you don’t want to be a doctor you can go into business reading women’s minds.”

  Sweet and smiling, Giles stared at her. “At the risk of being forward I’m going to tell you a few things that you might not have heard yet about our little town.”

  “I’m all ears. I’ve been told there are few women in Bravado and that the men here are always hoping they can attract more.”

  “They do.” His hazel eyes twinkled. “I’m one of them. Single, prosperous and lonely.”

  “By way of declaring your intentions?”

  He nodded, spreading his hands wide. “I’d be a fool not to tell you I’m interested in you. You’re lovely. Bright. Interesting. Unique, in fact. Few women come to town to investigate their ancestors. And if it gains me any points I’d be remiss not to remind you that I am part of your family. Way back.”

  “I saw a partial genealogy chart at Sam’s house. You are one of those distant relatives I seem to have in every nook and cranny of this town.”

  “I am. So I figure what’s the harm if I ask you out and we get to know each other better?”

  “None.”

  “Would Wade say that?” His face went hard with concern.

  She stiffened. “I don’t speak for Wade Saxon.”

  “Speak for yourself then. Tell me why you aren’t married. Why you are—how old?”

  “Thirty-five.”

  “Okay. And not married?”