by Jaci Burton
“One more question,” she said softly.
Maybe it was her tone of voice but he glanced up. “What is it?”
“What did we do for my fifth birthday party?”
His gaze narrowed once more. “I don’t remember.”
“Tenth?” she asked.
He clenched his jaw. “Same answer.”
Alexa nodded. The only birthdays she recalled were the ones she spent missing her mother and hurting that her father chose to work instead of staying home.
“The sad thing is, I wish I didn’t remember them either,” she said, fighting to speak over the lump in her throat and the tears threatening to fall.
Something flickered in her father’s gaze. Or maybe Alexa just wanted to see emotion there. She didn’t know. “Bye, Dad,” she said.
But when she looked over, he’d returned to his work and didn’t reply.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Family gatherings at Luke’s parents’ house were always huge events. With three sisters—all married, all with kids—cousins, neighbors, and friends included, the noise level was high and the privacy factor nil. Usually Luke loved these events. Not today.
Today his heart wasn’t here, it was back in the small town of Serendipity, New York. A place he never thought would leave a mark on him, much less impact him so strongly. He couldn’t get Alexa out of his mind.
They’d said good-bye on Thursday. Today was Saturday. He’d programmed his number into her cell and hoped she’d use it. With the way they’d parted, Luke giving her his unasked-for opinion on how to live her life, he wasn’t holding his breath.
In order not to focus on himself, he looked around to see which sibling he was in the mood for and his gaze settled on Ashley, the youngest of his three sisters. She had two kids, having married right out of high school to a guy Luke hated. And Luke considered himself an easygoing guy who got along with most people, but not her jackass husband.
“Hey, sweet cheeks,” he said, using his nickname for her.
“Hey, yourself.”
He sat down next to her on the picnic table bench and she immediately laid her head on his shoulder. Warning bells went off in his brain. “I was only gone a week. What happened?”
“I left Todd,” she said, her voice cracking.
Luke held in his cheer, more concerned about his sister’s feelings than his own. “Why?”
“He was cheating on me with Mandy Stone.” The whispered words came with a wealth of hurt, Luke knew.
“Mandy Stone whose daddy is Todd’s boss?” Luke asked through gritted teeth. The same Mandy Stone who felt it was her civic duty to hit on Luke at every town event he attended, and had done so since Luke accepted the scholarship to University of Miami to play football for the U.
“I think Mandy was just the most recent in a long line. He never liked being tied down.”
Luke stiffened, wanting to beat the crap out of the other man. “Then he shouldn’t have gotten you pregnant the summer before college.”
She sniffed but ended in a laugh. “Takes two to be stupid, Luke. And I wouldn’t trade my kids for anything.”
“What will you do now?”
“The kids and I moved in with Mom and Dad. I need some time to work out a plan.”
He kissed her temple. “You will. And I’ll be here to help you.”
“Thanks.”
“Anything for you, sweet cheeks. You know that.” He loved his sisters even when they were being pains in his ass.
She sighed. “I do. And I love you for it. So how was your trip east?”
“Business was good, got some solid endorsement deals lined up.”
“Just for Men? Erectile dysfunction meds? Hemorrhoid cream?” She nailed him in the ribs with her elbow.
He rolled his eyes. “This is when ‘sweet cheeks’ changes to ‘brat,’” he muttered. “How about Ford Broncos and my own cologne?”
She let out a Texas whoop. “I’m proud of you! So what else did you and Sawyer do? Pick up any hot chicks while you were there?”
Luke weighed just how much to tell her, then decided to go for broke. He needed to talk about it and Ash needed the distraction from her own life. “Cleaned out Sawyer’s dad’s house, though I think he’s gonna do some work on the place and keep it instead of selling. And, yeah, I met someone.”
Ashley sat up and turned in her seat, her eyes slitted as she stared at him.
“What?” he asked, uncomfortable under her narrowed gaze.
“I asked if you and Sawyer picked up any hot chicks. You countered with I met someone. Big difference. What gives?”
Luke glanced up at the cloudless sky. “Been asking myself that same question since I laid eyes on Alexa.”
“What makes her special?”
Luke could list a million things, but the ones that came to mind were too personal for him to share, even with his sister. Like Alexa’s stunning vulnerability. For a doctor who held lives in her hands, she’d been manipulated her entire life and didn’t know her own self-worth. He’d tried to give her that in a few short days, then he’d invited her out here, and when she didn’t jump at the chance like the other women in his life—the women who meant nothing to him and who he easily left behind—he threw those insecurities in her face and told her she needed to figure out what she wanted.
Nice of him, he thought, with no small amount of regret and an even healthier dose of self-directed disgust.
“Oooh, silence,” Ashley said with a grin on her previously sad face. “You’re in deep and you can’t even say why. You’ve fallen hard!” She clapped her hands in glee, suddenly back to being the sister who liked to tease him when they were kids. “I want to meet this girl.”
No chance of that, Luke thought, frustrated. “Cool it,” he muttered, instead of letting her in on what he’d done.
“Sorry.” Ashley settled back in next to him. “What’s she like?”
“She’s a doctor. Busy. Not sure she loves the work situation she’s in. She’s loyal, saw her step up to take care of her best friend when she was attacked, then stayed overnight at the hospital to look after her. Pretty. Auburn hair—”
“Brown with reddish highlights? About my height? Does she ever wear her hair in a ponytail and would she look uncomfortable at a Texas barbecue?” Ashley asked, a too-big grin on her face.
Luke jerked his body around and there she was. Dr. Alexa Collins, walking across his parents’ big Texas spread, talking to his mother, as she led Alexa to where Luke and Ashley were sitting.
“I’ll be damned,” he muttered.
“Since I always know everyone at these shindigs, I figured that had to be her. What’s she doing here?” Ashley asked.
“I invited her,” Luke said, stunned.
“What? You didn’t tell me she was coming!” Ash punctuated this with a shot to his shoulder.
“That’s because she said no.” Luke rose to his feet as the women approached.
“Lucas Thompson, you didn’t tell me we were having a guest!” His mother, Louise, who ruled this ranch along with her family, glared at him like he’d committed a crime.
“He didn’t know, Mrs. Thompson.” Alexa spoke softly.
“He invited you. That means you’re important to him, and that means he should have told me.”
“Ma!” Luke knew he’d better call her off before she scared Alexa away.
Alexa grinned and, man, Luke had missed that smile. “It’s fine,” she assured him.
Luke shook his head. Nothing about his mother’s form of torture was fine. “Alexa, this is my sister, Ashley. Ash, this is Alexa.”
His sister jumped up and shook Alexa’s hand. “He was just telling me all about you!”
Luke rolled his eyes. “God save me from the two of you,” he muttered. “Ash, take Mom away, would you? Go eat. Drink. Something.” He met and held Alexa’s gaze. “We need to talk.”
“We’re going,” Ashley said, understanding in her tone despite her earlier teasing. “
Come on, Ma. You can talk to Luke’s girl later.”
“Ash!” Luke’s voice vibrated with annoyance, but to his surprise, Alexa’s eyes were lit with amusement as she obviously held back her laughter.
“At least someone finds them amusing,” he muttered to his mother and sister’s retreating backs.
“You have no idea how lucky you are,” she said, staring after his family, a wistful expression on her face.
Luke didn’t know what she was doing here, but he had to assume it boded well for him that she’d come. He hooked his arm in hers and led her away from the yard and around the side of the house to his mother’s special place. When Luke was born, she’d insisted she needed a place of her own and his father had put up a gazebo in the most private corner of the yard, right off the side door to the house.
They settled in the swing chair. “I take it getting away wasn’t easy?” he asked.
“That would be an understatement.”
Her pretty green eyes told the painful story. He wouldn’t push her for an explanation, sure it would come when she was ready. “Yet you’re here.”
“I hoped the invitation was still open,” she said hesitantly.
There it was, that vulnerability he’d been thinking about before she materialized in front of his eyes. In her blue jeans and white lace tank, with a light denim blouse tied around her waist, she looked like she belonged here on the ranch. Yet everything about her screamed her uncertainty, something he never wanted her to feel around him.
“Invitation’s always open, darlin’.”
She released a long-held breath. “Well, that’s good, since when I took a leave of absence from work, my boss informed me he wouldn’t be holding my position open.” Her jaw set tight at the admission.
That bastard. “Your father said that?”
“It seems he didn’t appreciate the idea of me finding my own path.”
He wasn’t sure what surprised him more, the smile she gave him or the fact that she’d listened to his advice and was taking time to figure out what she wanted, despite the consequences.
“I think that’s great,” he said, grasping her hands, thrilled down to his bones that she’d come to him. “So you’re here for a while?”
Alexa shrugged, wondering that herself. “I’m here. How long? I thought we’d figure that out together. See if we still like each other and all.” God, she sounded like an unsure idiot, Alexa thought. It was a wonder she’d survived the plane ride, not knowing what awaited her here.
She’d gotten Luke’s address from Sawyer Rhodes, who swore his friend would be happy to see her and encouraged her to surprise him with the visit. Since she wasn’t in any hurry to have Luke turn her down if he’d changed his mind, she’d agreed and hopped on a plane.
“See if we still like each other?” Luke chuckled. “I don’t know about you, but what I feel for you is a lot more than like, darlin’.” Luke brushed his finger down her cheek, his golden eyes sparkling with reassurance as he dipped his head in close.
His heat reached out to her, his familiar scent settling the butterflies deep in her stomach.
“I started falling hard for you the second we met,” he continued. “Having you come down here, unsure of your welcome but taking that chance on me? That just cemented the deal. I can’t see us going anywhere but forward from here.”
“Me neither.” She swallowed hard, her heart pounding in her chest, everything inside her screaming this was right. “I’ve never felt anything like this before.”
“Same. And I sure never thought I’d want a woman with me, by my side, not talking about leaving any time soon, but that’s how I feel about you. So let’s take this time to get to know each other better, and help you figure out what you want to do with your career.” His eyes held hers. “And while you’re thinking on what you want, maybe you’ll reconsider where you do it. Assuming things keep on…keeping on.”
He grinned, and Alexa knew everything would be all right.
“Would you like that?” he asked.
“A lot,” she whispered.
“Good. Did I say I’m glad you’re here?” Before she could answer, he said, “I’m glad you’re here. Good play, darlin’.”
She grinned. Not a good play, she thought, as he closed his lips over hers. A perfect one.
THE LEGEND OF JANE
JESSICA CLARE
CHAPTER ONE
The weirdest calls always came late at night.
Hank had learned to dread those two A.M. phone calls, because they would inevitably lead to something strange. But that was to be expected when you worked the night shift.
“Bluebonnet PD,” Hank answered the phone.
“That you, Hank Sharp? You working the late night shift?”
“I am,” he said. “What can I help you with?”
“There’s a girl in my cow pasture,” Don Tatum said into the phone, and he sounded both tired and baffled. “With a video camera. And she’s talking to herself. I think she’s a cow tipper.”
A cow tipper? Of all the crazy, ridiculous things. “One of the high school kids?” Hank asked. They were usually the culprits, too stupid or drunk—or both—to realize that cows slept lying down, and cow tipping was just a myth.
“Nope. Older.” He paused a minute. “Definitely a cow tipper. She just ran up and tried to push one from behind. You want me to get my shotgun?”
“No, Don,” Hank said, getting the keys to his squad car off the hook in the tiny Bluebonnet Police Department. “You stay inside. I’ll take care of this.”
“All righty,” Don said mildly, sounding more perplexed than annoyed. “You might want to make it fast, Hank, before she gets herself kicked in the face.”
“On my way,” Hank said, and hung up the phone. He left the office and climbed into his patrol car. He could have driven out to Tatum’s small farm with his eyes closed, but he observed every stop sign and streetlight along the way regardless. It wouldn’t do for a police officer to break the law, after all.
And Hank came from a long line of police officers. The rules had pretty much been driven into his brain from childhood.
He slowed his patrol car along the farm road, looking for a parked vehicle. There was not a single building along this stretch of road, which meant that if he found a car, it’d likely belong to his tipper. Sure enough, his high beams lit upon an out-of-state license plate. Florida. He pulled up behind the car and made note of the license plate number, then grabbed his flashlight to give the car a quick inspection.
No one home. Definitely his cow tipper. Hank clicked the flashlight off and headed for the barbed wire fence. He examined it and the hot pink scrap of material stuck to the fence. His cow tipper didn’t know much about barbed wire, it seemed. Bending the wire down, Hank squeezed between the lines and entered the field.
Though Tatum owned several acres, it wasn’t hard for Hank to find the girl. All he had to do was look for the cows. Sure enough, they were all clustered in one of the north fields close to the house, and they were lowing as if something bothered them.
“Stupid cows,” he heard a voice growl in the distance. “Go to sleep already! I’m not going to sing you a lullaby!”
Hank glanced in that direction and saw a pinpoint of red light. That would be the camera, all right. What kind of fool woman was out there in the middle of the night trying to tip cows and film it? With his fingers hitched to his belt, he strolled forward to confront the tipper.
And paused when she began to speak again.
There was plenty of moonlight thanks to the full moon, and he was able to make out the shape of a rather tall someone in the field. She was leaning in front of the camera and speaking. He didn’t see a light on it except for that red one, so he wasn’t exactly sure what she was taping.
“Okay,” she told the camera on the tripod, her hands on her knees. “We’re going to wait about fifteen minutes and look for another sleeping cow. Then, it’s tipping time. You wouldn’t think that cows would
be so freaking difficult, but these are the least tired cows I’ve ever seen in my life. It’s two in the morning. You’d think they’d be ready for a little nap at least.”
She sounded disgruntled. His mouth twitched with amusement.
“All right,” she said to the camera again, then glanced behind her. “One of the cows is standing pretty still. I’m going to give it about two minutes to go to sleep, and then we commence tipping.” She rubbed her hands in front of the camera, and then adjusted the tripod.
Time for him to step in. Don Tatum was right. She was going to get kicked in the face. Hank clicked on his flashlight and shone it right in her face.
“Police,” he drawled. “Don’t move.”
She froze, squinting her eyes closed and throwing her hands in the air.
With the light on, he was able to get a better look at her. She was pretty, despite her face being scrunched up. Her hair was pulled into two crazy ponytails atop her head, and her hot pink athletic tank top had a rip down the front that matched the scrap he’d pulled from the barbed wire. She also wore bright pink lipstick and lots of glittery eye makeup. She looked like she was heading to a rave instead of a cow pasture. He let his flashlight travel down her legs. She wore bright pink and green striped knee-high socks and very short black shorts and combat boots.
What the hell was she doing, exactly?
“It’s not what it looks like, Officer,” she said, keeping her hands in the air.
Hank glanced at the field, then at the crazily dressed woman before the camera. “Looks kind of like a cow tipping to me.”
One eye squinted open to regard him. “Okay, then it is exactly what it looks like.” She put a hand in front of her eyes to block the light from his flashlight. “I don’t suppose you know the proper procedure for tipping a cow?”
“No, ma’am,” he said. “I do know it’s against the law to trespass on private property, though, and this is definitely private property.”