by Desiree Holt
I’ll bet Amy isn’t expecting me to show up as if I’m moving in for a year.
But she wanted the option of having everything she needed with her. She had no special itinerary, just planned to play things by ear. Maybe she’d like the little town where Amy lived enough to rent a place and stay for a while. But if she wanted to just pick up and move on, well, she wanted to have all her stuff with her. Thanks to the balance of the insurance money and what she’d managed to save, she had enough of a cushion that she didn’t have to sweat it. She’d have time to figure out what she wanted to do with the rest of her life.
Not be a cop? Was that even possible after all this time?
The question kept buzzing around in her brain. It was all she’d ever been, all she’d ever known. All she’d ever done. Could she switch to something totally foreign from that? She gave herself a virtual smack. She didn’t have to decide that now. Or decide anything. She just needed to get to Saddle Wells, Texas, and let it all hang out for a while. In a way, she was a little frightened. For the first time in years, neither her job nor her life would define who she was. She could remake herself into someone brand new. And would she like that person?
“Hey, your pump has shut off. Just in case you didn’t notice.”
The deep voice startled her out of her mental wonderings. When she looked up to see who it belonged to, she nearly dropped the handle of the gasoline hose. Not two feet away, at the front of her SUV, was a man who could have stepped off the poster for ultimate masculinity. He wasn’t handsome. Well, not exactly. His slightly longish, slightly ragged sun-streaked brown hair framed a face that had seen a lot of exposure to the elements. And on him it looked good. Emerald-green eyes watched her from the palette of a tanned face drawn with a square jaw, high cheekbones and straight brows.
He looked to be well over six feet, with broad shoulders and worn jeans that did little to disguise a muscular build, narrow hips and long, lean legs. He had a masculine mouth, the kind a woman could lock lips with for a long time. When she stared at him, he smiled, and the tiny dimple at one corner of his mouth gave his face an erotically wicked look.
Damn, Charity. Lose your brain much?
“I’m sorry.” She managed to pull the nozzle from the gas tank and replaced it on the pump. “I was just daydreaming, I guess. Thanks for the heads up.”
I hope I don’t look too stupid.
Although what did she care? The chances she’d ever see this man again were slimmer than slim to none. And probably a damn good thing, the way her record with men had turned out.
“My pleasure.”
His deep voice rolled over her like warm molasses, sending delicious shivers of pleasure racing through her body.
Oh my God, Charity, get a grip.
Unable to move, she stood where she was and watched him as he strolled over to his truck with a loose-hipped walk, climbed into the monster and cranked the engine. Yanking herself back to reality, she took the receipt spit out by the machine and headed into the store for the coffee and pastry. When she came back out, the truck was still there, only now it had pulled away from the pump and was parked to the side. Through the window, she could still see Mr. Hunk in the cab, cell phone clapped to his ear.
Without warning, he glanced out the windshield and locked his gaze on her. She froze, embarrassed to be caught ogling him. But she couldn’t seem to tear her eyes away from him. What the hell? She’d just gotten out of one long-term relationship and wasn’t interested in starting up another. Not even a hot quickie. Her first priority was to get her life in order and establish new goals for herself.
She turned to climb into her vehicle, but not before she saw him grin at her and touch the brim of his hat. The potent aura of his masculinity seemed to invade the air even outside the truck. She wondered if they had any like him in Saddle Wells.
Liam Douglas sat in the cab of his truck and watched the woman screw the gas cap on her SUV. The tee-shirt and jeans she wore gave him a good idea of her figure—medium height, full breasts, hips a man could hold on to and long legs to wrap around him. When she walked into the convenience store, the sway of her hips had made his cock swell and press against his fly. What the hell? No woman had been able to get even a half-hearted response from him in what seemed like forever. Now Mr. Happy wanted to have a party with a strange woman at a gas pump?
He watched her leave the store, juggling coffee and a small paper bag. Before climbing back into her car, she paused and grinned at him. Something about her touched parts of him that he’d kept buried for a long time. Life was certainly weird. Good thing he’d never see her again, because he sure wasn’t in any condition to start something up with a woman. A female like her needed a man who could satisfy her physically and emotionally, and right now that sure wasn’t him.
He picked up his cell phone from its spot in the console and pushed speed dial.
“The sun ain’t up yet,” a voice growled in his ear.
“Sure it is, old man.” Liam grinned. His father was about the only person who could put a smile on his face these days. “Just take a look out your window. Besides, if I know you, you’ve been drinking that mud you call coffee and watching the clock for the last hour.”
“Old habits die hard.” There was a pause. “Besides, I was worried about you. How did it go in Dallas?”
Liam shifted in his seat. The visit had been a tough one, and his father knew that.
“As good as could be expected under the circumstances.”
The circumstances. Yeah. An innocuous term for an emotional event.
“So you on your way back?” Mike asked.
“Yeah. Just about to hit the Interstate. You still good to open the bar for me at lunch?”
The old man snorted. “I did it for thirty years, didn’t I? I think I can handle it for another day.”
Liam blew out a breath. “Thanks. I really appreciate it.” Just as he appreciated his dad turning over the running of Mike’s to him. It kept him busy enough to keep the wartime memories at bay and fall into an exhausted sleep each night after closing.
“No sweat, son. Just drive carefully.” He paused. “And, Liam?”
“Yeah, Dad?”
“This was a good thing you did.”
Liam swallowed a sigh. “Yeah, Dad, I know. It was the least I could do.” He disconnected the call.
Since I came back alive and Darren didn’t. And it’s my fault.
Darren Mulholland had served with him on a Delta Force team in Afghanistan. Two tours, in the heat of the summer and the brutal winters in the Hindu Kush Mountains. They had gone through Delta training together, bonded in the way only men in battle can, and learned each other’s most intimate details. When Darren was killed, Liam mourned him as if he’d lost a member of his own family, which he had in a way.
And he couldn’t shake the feeling that he could have saved him, a feeling that clung to him like a funeral shroud.
One of the worst things he’d ever had to do was accompany Darren’s body home and help his wife, Lisa, through the funeral and the details afterward. But he’d done it stoically, as he knew Darren would have for him. If he had a wife. No, there was just his father, Mike, who himself had served in a different conflict. And who’d supported him when he’d come home with his own wounds exacerbated by the emotional ones caused by Darren’s death.
Although he’d kept tabs on Lisa and the kids after that, they hadn’t really talked a lot. Then out of the blue, she’d called to tell him she was moving. She couldn’t live in the house anymore. And while she had friends and family to help her, she really wanted Liam to come and assist, especially when it came to packing up Darren’s things.
Reluctantly, he’d hauled himself out of the narrow comfort zone he’d built around himself and driven to Dallas to help her. He’d held her while she cried over Darren’s medals, his dress uniform, his oth
er memorabilia. Then he’d packed it all up and labeled it for her and taken her out for dinner and a bottle of wine.
He’d be damn glad to get back to Saddle Wells and the bar, where he wasn’t required to be more than superficially involved with his customers or anyone else. After seeing the damage deployment and the scars of war did to relationships, he’d vowed never to put himself in that situation. Not that he’d ever be deployed again, not with his injuries.
But vestiges of his tours in battle zones still clung to him, like the nightmares he couldn’t shake of the men who’d died around him, the unremitting stink of death and war and the wounds that had affected his body. He wasn’t much of a prize package for anyone. Nor did he think he had any emotion left to give to a woman. He’d pulled inside himself and he was happy to stay that way.
As if to remind him of the injuries he’d carry with him forever, his left leg, the one with the steel pins in it, suddenly cramped and sent pain shooting through his body. He gritted his teeth and massaged it until the spasm eased. Then he put the truck in gear, pulled out onto the street and headed for the Interstate.
Chapter Two
The drive proved to be relatively easy. Not a lot of traffic on the Interstate and her ride handled smoothly. She punched the button to turn on the radio, fiddled until she found a country station and drove along with Blake Shelton’s voice filling the air. Blake always made her feel good. His voice so rich and smooth it reached down deep inside her.
For whatever ungodly reason, something made her think of the guy at the convenience store. His voice had that same deep, come-fuck-me quality to it. The kind that made women’s panties dampen and their nipples turn as hard as diamonds. That set pulses beating at every erogenous zone in their bodies. Even though she’d had just a brief view of him, the image of him in those jeans and shirt, sleeves rolled up to display muscular forearms, seemed to be burned into her brain. She wondered if every part of his body was that hard.
Holy crap, Charity. Get your mind out of the gutter.
Besides, what good was it to daydream about him? How likely was it she’d ever see him again anyway? And hadn’t she already learned her lesson? She’d finally figured out that she was no good in the relationship department. That she should build her new life without an attachment to any man, even one who rang her chimes like the hunk at the convenience store. This was a new day, a new start for her, and it didn’t include men. At least not now.
She was so lost in her own thoughts she almost missed her exit. She turned off onto a two-lane country road and drove slowly into Saddle Wells, taking her time to absorb the scenery and the landscape. The last time she was here had been for Amy’s wedding, three short days, and she hadn’t seen much except the Stark Ranch where the wedding was held, the Montgomery Ranch where Amy would be living and the Lone Star Saloon for bride’s night out. Now she took the opportunity to take in the quaint storefronts on Main Street, the benches scattered here and there for people to sit and chat or just watch the world go by. Huge wooden tubs of colorful flowers sat in front of stores and colorful banners proclaiming Hill Country Paradise fluttered from antique-looking lamp posts.
The sidewalks were filled with people strolling unhurriedly along the shopping strip or stopped in groups of two or three to chat. In front of a store with the sign Cyn’s Cyn-Sational Rub, a smiling woman who looked to be in her forties held out a tray with what Charity thought might be samples. People were snapping them up as fast as they could. Charity made a mental note to ask Amy what all the excitement was about.
Beyond the town limits, the landscape changed drastically. No more streets. Instead, she saw rolling pastures and rocky hills, thick stands of mountain cedar and ancient oaks. Some of the pastures had cattle, others a few horses. At one place, she even thought she saw goats. Goats? As she rolled down the two-lane highway, she lowered her window and inhaled the air. She might be fooling herself, but she swore she could actually smell hay and horses and cattle, and, yes, even manure. A big change from the industrial scent of Dallas.
She was so engrossed in the music and the sudden feeling of freedom she nearly missed the turnoff to the Montgomery Ranch. She drove slowly down the driveway and pulled into the gravel parking area to one side of the big two-story ranch house. She had barely turned off the ignition and climbed out of the vehicle when Amy Stark Montgomery came racing out of the house, dark hair streaming behind her.
“You’re here! You’re here!”
Amy threw her arms around Charity, hugging her so hard it was difficult to breathe. Charity laughed and squeezed her friend. Amy’s exuberance was exactly what she needed right now.
“Of course I’m here.” She laughed, suddenly feeling freer than she had in a long time. “Thanks for letting me invite myself.”
“Are you kidding?” Amy tugged her hand. “I’ve been up since five o’clock waiting for you.”
“Wait.” Charity reached into the SUV and grabbed her purse. “I need to get a suitcase out.”
“I’ll have one of the guys get it for you.” Amy stopped and stared through the truck’s windows. “Holy shit, Charity. Is that everything you own?”
“Except for my furniture and the rest of the stuff I put in storage.” She stretched and rolled her shoulders, stiff from the hours of driving. “Wow. I think every muscle I own is cramped. Not to mention the fact my butt’s numb.”
“Well, come on in the house. I’ve got wine or cold beer or whatever you want to get rid of those aches. Which suitcase do you want?”
“The black one with the outside pockets.”
“Maybe you should bring everything in,” Amy suggested with an impish grin.
Charity laughed. “Nice try, but I’m sticking to my original plan. A couple of nights and I’m moving to the Butterfly. I already made my reservation.”
Amy pouted as she led her inside the house. “Phooey. I was looking forward to a nice long visit.”
“And we’ll have one. But you and Buck need your privacy, and if I decide to camp in Saddle Wells for a while, I’ll need mine too. So please understand, okay?”
Amy stopped and studied her face. “Okay. But I’ve got lots of questions and lots of plans. Deal with it.” She picked up a two-way radio from the kitchen counter. “Nate? Have someone get a black suitcase out of the SUV in the parking area, will you? And bring it up to the house. Thanks.”
“Wow. Your own staff of servants,” Charity teased.
“Hardly. The cattle is their prime responsibility, as well as the ranch chores. But I ask them to do a few things now and then.” She winked. “So have you had lunch? I should feed you before I try and get you drunk.”
“It’s two o’clock,” Charity pointed out. “I ate on the way. But a cold beer would be really nice right about now. And someplace to sit where I don’t have wheels under me.”
“One Lone Star for each of us coming up right now. We’ll take them out on the patio. Summer hasn’t hit yet, so it’s still comfortable out there.”
Charity stretched out on a padded lounge chair, enjoying the soft breeze blowing against her face and the mingled scents of the ranch. “I didn’t realize how much land you guys have. This place looks like it goes on forever.”
Amy took the lounge chair next to her. “Not so much by most Texas standards. Two thousand acres. But it’s enough for us.”
“Sounds huge to me. Dallas may be in Texas, but in the city it’s hard to imagine how big everything is until you get out here.” She took a swallow of the ice-cold brew. “You look so incredibly happy, Amze. I only spent a little time with Buck when I was here for your wedding, but he seems like a really great guy.”
“He is.” Amy sighed and a look of pure bliss swept over her face. “I’m really lucky.” Then her expression turned sober. “But we had some rough roads to travel to get where we are.”
Charity looked at her with curiosity. “Oh?
Care to share any of it?”
Amy shook her head. “No, it’s really Buck’s story. But he had a lot to overcome, and I think it’s made him the wonderful man he is. But enough about us. When you called, you sounded almost desperate. You never said what prompted this whole get-away-for-a-while thing. Problems back in Dallas?”
“Just…” she flicked her fingers in the air, “…just stuff.” She wasn’t ready yet to open up all the emotional baggage she carried and show anyone its contents.
“The job? I mean, you graduated with your degree in criminal justice and you’ve been a cop every day since then.”
“I know, I know. And I really love it. Loved it,” she corrected herself.
“So if it’s not the job, what then? A guy? Something else?”
Charity fiddled with the label on the beer bottle, peeling it in strips. “Maybe a combination of everything, I guess. Too many years on the job, too many relationships the job killed, too much or too little of everything.” She gave a short laugh. “I sound like a bad soap opera.”
Amy sat up, swung her legs over the side of the lounge chair and looked directly at her friend. “You sound like someone who needs to be doing exactly what you’ve decided to do. Get away from it all. Go somewhere new and fresh. Make some big changes in your life. But no decisions for a while.”
Charity nodded. “No decisions. That sounds good. Really good.”
“Listen, you’ve been driving for quite a while. Here I am chattering away at you, and I’ll bet you’d love to take a shower, wash off the trail dust and maybe lie down a little while.”
“The shower sounds really good. And if it’s okay with you, I’d like to come back out here to the patio and just soak up the sun for a while.”
“Absolutely. Nap as long as you want. Dinner hour is flexible. But tonight?” She winked. “If you’re up to it, it’s girls’ night out at Mike’s Place. Nothing fancy, just five of us getting together without the guys, getting a little drunk and a little crazy. The guys always drive us and bring us back so everyone can have a drink.”