Devil In Cowboy Boots

by Sylvie Kaye

  Spence dropped to one knee, the grass cool and plush beneath his weight. The air smelled fresh from green growth. Odd for land littered with the dead. He reached out and rested his hand on the etched letters of Mark's name.

  "Well, buddy,” he murmured. “If you've been following, you know I've been in jail and have tried to make things right. For both of us. Clear my name and catch your killer."

  Spence's voice caught. He coughed. “I've been trying real hard to keep my eye on the prize, like you said, but..."

  He fell silent. Dropping his hand to the ground, he flattened his palm on the grass as if to feel the energy of his friend through the casket lying beneath the earth.

  Mark had been like the brother he'd never had. Spence had tried to always respect that loyalty.

  "I fell in love, and Mercy claims she loves me. I may have to abandon my search for justice to keep the woman. I just wanted to tell you myself."

  He stood to go, then reached out at the last minute for the vest, deciding to hold on to it as a keepsake of Mark. And Mercy, if he should lose her. But he intended to try like hell to keep her.

  * * * *

  "Your mother called. She said it was important,” Cindy yelled from the living room as soon as Mercy walked through the marble foyer of the condo after leaving the ranch and Spence.

  Mercy hadn't meant to open her heart and tell him she loved him. It had just spilled out when she was faced with parting from him for the last time. Not only were they at odds about her uncle but headed in different directions when her flight left tomorrow evening. Revealing the truth of her feelings didn't help the situation any.

  Flopping onto the sofa next to Cindy, Mercy dropped her satchel onto the floor near her feet. “How did Mom sound?” she asked. “Did she hear from Uncle Parker?"

  Her spirits lifted at the faint hope, despite knowing full well her mother would've told Cindy if she had, and Cindy would've blurted it out without Mercy having to ask.

  "No, but she's figured out who his dying friend is. Soon as you locate him, you locate your uncle.” Cindy shrugged, clearly not sold on the outside chance.

  "If it were only that simple.” Mercy reached for the phone beside the sofa and dialed, anxious to hear what her mother had to say. A name could well be the key to locating her missing uncle.

  Her mother sounded emphatic and pleased with herself for recalling her brother's friend from Mercy's description. Sort of. On Cindy's hobbit-shaped pad near the phone, Mercy scribbled down the different pronunciations her mother gave for the man's name. Before hanging up, Mercy promised to call her as soon as she heard anything positive.

  "Grant Murray, Merray, Morrey.” She spelled out the various forms of the name for Cindy.

  Cindy listened and snapped her fingers. “I know who can help us. Google. He called a half-hour ago to ask how everything worked out with corporate. He left his number in case I hear any news about Jay needing a buyer for his Jag. Undervalued, of course.” She nodded.

  "How did you make out with corporate?” Mercy brushed a stray hair from her face, ashamed that she was so caught up in her own situation with Spence and her uncle that she hadn't thought to inquire about Cindy's promotion.

  "I'm the new assistant vice-president in charge of sales.” Cindy sat up straighter and fussed with the collar of her tailored blouse. “With a modest raise in pay to go along with the duties."

  "I'm so happy for you.” Mercy squeezed off a quick hug before Cindy brushed her off.

  "Let's see about producing more good results. Let's both check our ready cash to see how much we can come up with to pay for Google's services.” Cindy snatched her purse from the sleek, glass coffee table where it lay alongside her high-polished leather briefcase.

  Mercy dug her wallet from the tote at her feet and counted out her twenties while Cindy tossed a handful of crumpled bills onto Mercy's lap, a fifty among them.

  "We have a couple hundred here. Is that enough to hire him?” Mercy asked, grateful to her generous friend.

  "I'm sure it is.” Cindy leaned in. “You know what else Google told me?"

  "No. I couldn't begin to guess.” Mercy unfolded and piled the bills into a neat stack on the coffee table in front of them.

  "Spence's trip to Corpus Christi last night was to catch Parker before his boat sailed. Someone at the club—Google wouldn't give me a name—got a tip from a friend who works in the bait shop at the marina and passed it along to Spence."

  Mercy's mouth gaped. A rush of air fluttered the bills before she had time to sink back against the firm leather cushion of the sofa.

  "You know the rest. He missed leaving on time,” Cindy explained, “because he lingered to set us up with Google and then had to save you from the knife-wielding thief."

  "Do you know what that means, Cindy?” Mercy stammered.

  "Aside from his saving both our butts and losing his chance to get his hands on your uncle, no."

  "Spence loves me. He chose me over my Uncle Parker."

  "And let me guess. You love him, too.” Cindy ruffled her fingers through her hair, sending the strands flying. “After all my warnings."

  "Yes."

  "Yes, you love him or yes about my warnings,” Cindy asked, forcing Mercy to say the words aloud.

  "Yes, I love Spence."

  Cindy sighed. “Sister Doria believed when someone showed you who they were, you should believe them.” She paused. “Looks like I misjudged Spence. And Jay? Safe, my ass.” She crinkled her nose. “I wonder. If I was so off base about both men, maybe I should change my viewpoint on Lenny. Underneath his playboy exterior could beat the heart of my true love.” She chuckled at the notion.

  "It's not so laughable. Lenny did help Spence and Google by passing along the message to us,” Mercy rationalized.

  Cindy reached around Mercy and grabbed the phone. “One problem at a time.” She checked Google's number on her notepad, dialed, and handed the receiver to Mercy.

  After Mercy explained the situation and gave Google the various spellings of the man's name, she called Spence's number. There was no answer.

  But within the hour, unexpected, Spence showed up at their door. Cindy let him in and yawned. “All this late-night and early-morning activity has me exhausted. I don't know about you two, but I need a nap.” She winked and sashayed down the hall, safely, in Mercy's flat-soled shoes.

  Once they were alone, Mercy watched Spence's rangy body reflected in the mirrored wall of the foyer. He hadn't come into the living room to sit by her and she considered going to him. For the moment, she contented herself admiring his potent physique. Both front and back, in the mirrors. Hard muscles, bulging fly, tight butt, strong hands, powerful legs. She exhaled, readying herself to stand up and go after him.

  Before she could, with his unique style of manly grace and flexing sexuality, he moved toward her. He shoved his hands into his pockets. His dark, dreamy eyes met hers. Her pulse quickened.

  Before she got sidetracked by his smoky eyes and the wanton flickers of heat between her thighs, she decided to get straight to the matter. “I have the name of my uncle's friend. Google's searching for his address as we speak."

  He nodded. “If I'm allowed to speak. I have a question.” His husky voice alluded to the steamy romp they'd recently enjoyed with the bandana as a gag, and that surprised her. She'd expected him to jump right for the information.

  "Please, speak,” she said, his sensuality stirring her interest to a full-bodied burn. With Cindy retreated to her bedroom to give them privacy, Mercy's body yearned to give itself over to his evocative presence without preamble or, in this case, foreplay.

  He sat down alongside her on the dark blue leather sofa. His thigh brushed hers and need shot through her like white-hot lightning. “Are you going to tell me where Parker's friend is when you find out?"

  Not the question she'd expected. She'd anticipated something lurid to go with the sexuality radiating between them.

  "Yes,” she replied, simply
, while holding back her hunger to strip him naked and show him how much she wanted him, trusted him, loved him.

  Spence's dark eyes reflected her love. “Why the change of heart?"

  "I want this situation cleared up as much as you do. I know you'll do the right thing by my uncle.” Spence's mouth was temptingly close.

  "How do you know?” His breath teased her lips. Her mouth parted eager to devour his.

  "Because you lost your chance at Corpus Christi to rescue me. You chose me over my uncle."

  "I didn't know how late it was,” he said in a teasing tone, kissing the corner of her mouth, the mere touch of his lips hot and firm and stirring.

  "You didn't care when you saw I was in trouble. You didn't pull out your pocket watch to see if you had enough time.” She snuggled onto his lap, reveling in the feel of his strong arms at her back, while her bottom settled onto his firm thighs and hardening dick.

  "I didn't have my watch with me. When I'm around you, I forget a lot of things."

  "You do?” A thrill ran through her. As she squirmed for a better position on his lap, he balanced her by wrapping his arm around her waist.

  "I'm inclined to forget about your uncle, Mark's killer, and my vindication.” His eyes met hers. They blazed with more than desire.

  "You don't have to,” she insisted. “Once we locate my uncle, he'll make everything right. I'm sure."

  "Suppose he can't.” He stroked her spine to ease the realization that her uncle might be guilty of some underhanded involvement. “Your offer was enough. You don't have to deliver."

  She tangled her arms around his neck, pulling his mouth to hers. His mood seemed mellower, more caring, loving. This softer side of him added to her sexual curiosity. A loving and sexy Spence was something she couldn't wait to experience.

  "I intend to deliver.” She slipped her hand between his thighs and tugged at his zipper.

  "You always do, babe.” With a growl, he undid the fly on her jeans. The leather of the sofa squooshed beneath the weight of their shifting bodies as she shimmied her jeans down below her knees and he knelt over her, tugging his fly open wider.

  He held her eyes with the intensity of his dark, gleaming ones while he dug a foil packet from his pocket and protected himself.

  The exquisite contact of his deep concentration swept hot lust through her limbs. Her pulse throbbed wild with expectation.

  With both of his broad, work-roughened hands, he grasped her around the hips and dragged her slowly beneath him. The coarseness of his jeans stroked her tender inner thighs as he positioned her where he wanted her, pinning her in place with the weight of his slim hips. She strained her hips up to meet the rock-hard, swollen head of his penis.

  She was drenched with lust for him. Nudging his erection into her folds, he spread her hot moisture around.

  Remembering Cindy down the hall, Mercy stifled her moan of torturous anticipation, letting it die in her throat. Then he entered her with a swift plunge that took her breath away for a second. She attempted to open her thighs wider but her jeans and the sofa back wouldn't allow it.

  With his arms at either side of her neck, Spence braced himself above her. His breath was heated and tinged with the heavy scent of coffee drunk black.

  "You don't mind if I deliver something of my own, do you?” he asked, his voice lusty and hoarse.

  "I was counting on it,” she whispered. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she pulled him closer and arched her hips.

  He needed no other urging. He withdrew and plunged, deep and swift, filling her with heated muscle and pulsing veins. He became a palpable part of her, the intimacy profound. Again, she tried to spread her legs, to give him wider entrance, but her jeans wouldn't allow it.

  Although, as she wriggled, she realized the tight width of her thighs was making for a more erotic sensation. When he withdrew, fully, and lunged again, the size and length of him stretched her, possessed her, defying the restricted entrance of her narrowed spread. She felt closer, deeper, more connected to him than ever before.

  Awareness of him, them, and their immersed emotions spiraled through her with every highly charged stroke. Her body reacted by clenching his thick shaft, milking him, surrounding him with the fiery pull of her body. Her love.

  She clutched the back of his head. His hair was damp from the exertion of their lovemaking. He nipped biting kisses along her throat as her grip tightened and her senses heightened with the incredible, entirely new, bond forming between them.

  He pumped faster, harder, higher, titillating her clit with each fierce thrust. As she bucked her hips, she began to tremble and shatter. He wrapped his strong arms around her shuddering body as she rode the spasms of her orgasm. His lips met hers in a demanding kiss, swallowing their cries of satisfaction as they reached their orgasms.

  Her insides melted like butter, hot and dripping. Exhausting himself, he contracted, let out a soft groan, and lifted himself up on his arms. She fell limp.

  Closing his eyes for a second, he rested his forehead on hers. The warm pants of their breaths mingled.

  Once steady, he opened his beautiful dark eyes and smiled at her. “Babe, that was a thank-you and I-love-you fuck."

  Before she could reply, all hell broke loose. The doorbell chimed, the phone rang, and mere seconds after they yanked their jeans up, Cindy skidded down the hallway toward the front door.

  Spence sprinted toward the bathroom to dispose of the condom, while Mercy finger-combed her hair and straightened her T-shirt.

  Cindy jarred the door open. “Hello, Google."

  "Hello,” Mercy said, picking up the phone. “How are you, Jay?"

  The women looked at one another. Then they switched.

  [Back to Table of Contents]

  Chapter Thirty-two

  By the time Spence returned, Mercy was standing in the living room, chattering away with Google and clutching a tattered piece of paper in her hand while Cindy sat on the sofa, on the very spot where Spence had just professed his love to Mercy. From Cindy's end of the conversation, it sounded as if Jay was whining about his financial problems.

  "Hey,” Google said with a nod to Spence.

  Spence nodded back and raked his fingers through his hair. He eyeballed Mercy. Her lips were pink and swollen from his kisses. He supposed both sets of her lips were still inflamed from his recent ministrations.

  Mercy acknowledged him with a smile as if nothing earth-shattering had recently occurred. Like him making love to her and telling her he loved her.

  Women. He'd never understand them.

  "It didn't take me long at all,” Google bragged, folding and tucking the money Mercy gave him into his deep pants pocket. “There were four Grant Morreys, but only one was sixty and ailing.” He grinned, rocking back on the rubber heels of his high-tech leather sneakers, inches from where Mercy's bare toes peeked out from beneath the hem of her jeans.

  She had sexy feet, Spence thought when his mind should be on the business at hand and his dick should be satisfied. But hell, any noticeable bare flesh of hers turned him on.

  Love. With a muffled groan, he accepted his fate and strolled over to join her.

  "Thank goodness we were so lucky,” Mercy said, reaching out her arm to capture Spence's when he approached. She handed him the torn scrap of paper.

  Spence shook his head. With all the money Google took in, you'd think he could afford whole pieces of paper. He read the address.

  "It's about a six hour ride to the Louisiana border,” he told Mercy, glancing up from the note to her eager eyes.

  "We should go tonight,” she said.

  He nodded. “We shouldn't waste any time, what with your flight taking off tomorrow night."

  As soon as he agreed, she grabbed up her tote from the side of the sofa and hurried off toward her bedroom. “I'll freshen up and get my sneakers."

  "I guess I'll get going.” Google shook Spence's hand.

  But before he even reached for the doorknob, Cindy
began waving frantically at Google not to go yet. Muffling the phone to her chest, she mouthed, “I may have a bargain Jaguar for you."

  With a wide grin, he ambled toward the sofa, plopping his large frame down next to her, the firm leather making a whooshing sound as he settled in.

  By the time Spence wrangled his truck keys out of his pocket, Mercy was back. “Ready,” she said, tucking her T-shirt into her waistband.

  She looked ready. Her blue eyes shone bright and her cheeks were rosy with her lust for life. She stood there, eager and receptive. His heart thumped. Mercy was always up for adventure of any kind.

  "Yeah, I'm primed,” he said, taking her elbow, keeping her at arm's length to stop himself from kissing her inviting mouth. He wasn't making any public claims on her until this thing with Parker came to a head.

  "Take care of Mercy and don't do anything you'll regret about her uncle,” Cindy said.

  "I'll walk on eggs,” he muttered to Mercy's ever-interfering friend.

  "Good one.” Cindy laughed, approving of the adage.

  Once out of town and away from the dense traffic, Spence wanted to discuss the possibility of a future with Mercy before things started happening, before misunderstandings could get in the way of feelings.

  But she nodded off, and he didn't wake her. It was going to be a long night and day. She'd need her strength to deal with whatever went down between him and Parker.

  As he tooled the truck down the highway toward the border, he cracked the window open for fresh air. The night was warm and smelled sweet like fresh-cut hay. He fidgeted with the radio, tuning in a lively country-music station and tapping along on the steering wheel to stay awake and alert.

  Before dawn, he felt stiff and tired. He stretched and yawned and headed for the nearest off-ramp to get a coffee. When he parked beneath the brightly-lit canopy of the service plaza, Mercy fluttered her eyelids open.

  "Are we there?” she asked in a throaty, sleepy voice that made him ache to have her wake beside him every morning after a long night of sweaty lovemaking.

  "Not yet. Want coffee?” He leaned over her to shadow the neon light from her eyes and toyed with a tempting lock of hair that teased the delicate shoulder he longed to bite.