Gun Shy

by Diane Saxon

  They’d already set a date when he realized there was no baby. Never had been. He may have been young, but he wasn’t stupid. Women who were four months pregnant didn’t normally have periods, and when he insisted she take a pregnancy test, she broke down and confessed.

  It was painful and it was ugly. He’d made a decision then never to put himself through it again. He never again wanted to feel that first rush of lust and love turn to dust. He never wanted to watch the destruction of another human.

  Her parents had taken her back home, three states away, but he still received a letter once a week from her for almost a year before they stopped.

  He stared out of the open flap of the tent at nothing while he concentrated, and his resolve hardened. He made a move to leave, but Kate beat him to the opening.

  She peered out, and a little girly squeak came from her mouth as she placed her fingers on her lips and squinted into the sun. “Oh my God, he looks just like Cormack Blunt.”

  Jack flexed his jaw and refused to look. He didn’t need to. He knew exactly who she meant. He crossed his arms over his chest. It didn’t look like he needed to worry about her falling for him. Just like every woman he knew, except Bill, she was fickle.

  Kate stepped out of the doorway to take a closer look. “Is that Cormack Blunt?” She glanced over her shoulder at Jack, the laser brightness of her eyes dancing with excitement. “You know, the famous actor, you must have heard of him?” She peered closer.

  He’d lost her. He’d worried about her getting too attached. All he’d had to do was put his famous cousin into the mix, and the woman was fangirling like some pre-pubescent kid. The acid burn of disappointment bubbled in his stomach.

  She turned, her sky-blue gaze full of questions.

  “Yeah, I have.” He heaved a sigh and flicked a reluctant hand toward Mac. “But his real name is Mac. Mac Swann. Do you want to meet him?”

  “You know him?”

  He huffed out another breath in answer as she took two more steps outside. He had no idea why he’d worried about her, she’d never shown this much excitement about him.

  The bright sunlight bounced a little white halo from her head as she moved away from him.

  He turned toward Mac, who stared in their direction. Jack gave him an impatient come-on-over hand motion. Mac grinned, starting forward with a long-legged gait, enough to have Jack grinding his teeth. He loved Mac like a brother, but sometimes, he wanted to pound him into the ground.

  “You know, his smile.” Kate stared at Jack. “Oh, oh, you’re related. Swann, is his real name, you say? That’s your name too. Are you brothers? You can’t be brothers, he’s…well, he’s…

  “Native American, born and bred.” Mac supplied as he approached. “On my mother’s side. Jack’s father is my uncle, which makes us cousins.” He continued to smile the heart-melting one he used on women and the silver screen, and Jack’s annoyance unfurled like a slow-moving snake. He almost told Mac the woman wasn’t stupid, she understood what made a cousin. She hardly needed it explaining. But he was too late, Mac already had Kate’s hand in his own. He kissed the back of it with exaggerated tenderness, making the woman flutter like a brainless bird. Perhaps she had needed it spelling out, as she seemed to have lost her mind.

  “I’m also Bill’s brother.” Mac lowered his voice until the smooth silk he used on the big screen poured from his lips and made Jack even keener to hammer him.

  Kate’s eyes widened. “Well, no one told me. But I can see the resemblance.”

  They still hadn’t let go of each other’s hands, and fiery heat tore through Jack’s gut while he resisted the overwhelming urge to rip them apart.

  “Yeah well, they don’t like to boast. They think it might make me big-headed.” Mac’s wolfish grin inspired Jack to let out a low growl which they both ignored, too engrossed in each other to pay him any attention. “Doctor Kate, I’ve heard a lot about you, all of it good, but none of it does you justice.”

  For the first time, Kate flicked a sideways glance at Jack, one smooth eyebrow raised, before she turned her attention back to the giant of a movie star. Jack considered blackening his eye for him to ruin his next film.

  His voice low and sexy, Mac continued to hold Kate’s hand as his thumb rubbed a gentle circle on her palm and he gazed deep into her twinkling eyes.

  Kate fluttered. There was no other word for it, she simply fluttered.

  Jack bit down, flexing his jaw to stop some obscenity pouring from his mouth, until Mac glanced in his direction.

  “I think they need you, Jack,” Mac drawled with a sly look. “Jack?” Jack’s gaze crashed into his cousin’s. “On court?”

  He huffed out a breath and stalked past them both to take up his position as the game started. He needed to kick the shit out of someone just to make him feel better. He squinted at his cousin. They were on the same team and Mac was reserve, so there was no chance.

  ∙•∙

  “He’s real pissed at me right now.”

  Surprised, Kate stared way up into Mac’s handsome face while something inside her melted. The man was a god, a legend, and she still had hold of his hand. She was never going to wash hers again. “Why would he be?”

  Mac tucked her captive hand into the crook of his arm and guided her over to the bench on the sideline to watch the game.

  “’Cause he thinks I’m trying to steal his girl.” His wide unrepentant grin made her laugh. He was a bad boy.

  “I’m not his girl, but if I was, would you be trying to steal me?” A little harmless flirtation with the hunk of a movie star wouldn’t harm her ego.

  “Nah, I can see you’re too stuck on him.”

  “You can?” Shocked, Kate slid her hand out of his huge one and tucked her skirt close around her legs. “What makes you think that?”

  “I’m an actor. I read body language. How bad have you got it, honey?”

  Kate shifted and stared ahead as the game began. She’d never seen so many big men all in one place, but there was only one who held her attention. In an effort to distract Mac, she waved her hand at the players. “So, I don’t really know this game. I’m more a rugby fan. Tell me about it.”

  “Okay, we can change the subject.” Mac’s lips curved in his infamous smile as he turned toward the court, indicating with his left hand. “This is a game we play every couple of months. Sheriff’s department against the fire department and a few extras who drop in from the ranch to make up the numbers. Five on court for each team.” He raised his perfect black eyebrows at her and grinned.

  She studied the player’s positions and then turned back to ask another question. “How come Bill is the only female on court?”

  “Well, ’cause she’s one of the boys, of course, and believe me, she’s not to be messed with out there. She’ll probably cause the most injuries, ’cause she sure as hell has sharp elbows.”

  “Injuries? Are we expecting a lot?”

  “Hell, yeah! It wouldn’t be fun if there weren’t any injuries. We try not to break any limbs if possible, but it sometimes happens.”

  “You’re joking, aren’t you?”

  He looked her dead in the eye. “Some of the boys can’t wait to get an opportunity to beat up on the sheriff’s department. Depends who’s playing.” He turned toward the court as the game started.

  It was fast, it was complex, and it was violent. Most of the violence appeared to be directed toward the sheriff’s team, and as Mac had explained, that was the glory of the game. It was a chance to get their own back, blow off some steam by taking it out on the bosses. As Jack happened to be top man, he was a prime target.

  ∙•∙

  Mac had stolen his girl. Not that she was his girl, and he had no idea when he had started to think of her as his girl, but he absolutely recognized the look. The one women gave Mac. It wasn’t even so much Mac’s rugged good looks, or the size of his super-muscled body. Jack had always been able to hold his own in the women department against Mac when
they were younger, but dealing with fame was a whole different ball game. Mac’s good looks splattered over every newspaper, magazine, and on every screen. Jeez, it wasn’t so much him as the image they portrayed of him. Tough, macho guy always got the girl. The media had made a hero of him, and every woman fell at his feet.

  Not that he wasn’t good looking in his own right. Mac was verging on the goddamned beautiful with all his flowing black hair and dark-as-night eyes, with his smooth Native American skin glowing in the sunlight. It didn’t help when they greased up his enormous chest and made him shimmer a deep golden brown.

  It was his own fault. Jack had gone out of his way to make it clear to Kate he wasn’t interested in any kind of relationship, so he could hardly blame her if she’d gone all doe eyed over his famous cousin. With a bitter twist of his lips, he glanced at her again. She’d have probably done it anyhow, even if he had been seeing her.

  He watched as she flung back her head to laugh, her gaze bright and animated as his cousin leaned in close. Jack had never seen her laugh like that. He’d never given her a reason to.

  He heaved a sigh as he took another knock from the new blond fireman who obviously wanted to prove his worth. Big shoulders, shit for brains. Jack took him out with an elbow to the gut, and the blond guy rushed to the sidelines to spew up. It wasn’t a pleasant sight, but it would teach him to keep his defense up if he was going to go on the attack.

  He risked another look in Mac and Kate’s direction. They were deep in conversation, Mac’s white teeth flashing as he grinned.

  Jack squinted at them.

  Kate wasn’t Mac’s usual type.

  Mac liked to be seen with the tall, thin, emaciated type. Normally models and skinny actresses who tried to stay young and thin. Young by having some sort of shit injected into their faces, under their eyes, into their lips, and thin by having the same stuff sucked out of their bellies, thighs, and butts.

  Jack didn’t think he’d ever seen one of Mac’s women laughing. They were probably too worried about creating wrinkles. Maybe that’s what Mac liked about Kate. She laughed. A lot it appeared. And she was intelligent. Again not normally Mac’s type. Some of the women who trawled around after him were vacuous. He did have a preference for blondes, and Kate was blonde. Blonde and short and curvy. Not Mac’s type.

  Not Jack’s type either. He should steer clear.

  Down for the third time, he left behind a layer of skin on the asphalt as pain seared his knees. Jack’s jaw ached as he clenched his teeth and pulled in the quick whip of temper. It seemed the other team was playing hardball. Jack had been gentle with the young blond, considering his puppy-dog enthusiasm to bounce Jack off the court, but some of them had become a little too serious.

  It was deliberate of course. They all knew he didn’t want to show himself up in front of the new doctor, but Buddy appeared to have taken it to heart. There was always friendly banter and a little rough and tumble, but Buddy had hit the bottle again, the stale scent of his breath wafted heavy on the summer air, and he never did know when to stop. It was okay to barge and elbow, but Buddy had blood lust in his eye, and Jack knew it was personal. The guy just wanted a little retribution for Jack’s intervention at Lou’s Bar.

  He supposed it was better than Buddy taking it out on his wife.

  Jack bent over at the waist and leaned forward to catch his breath, hands on knees while he sucked in as much oxygen as possible and checked the damage. Blood trickled in bright red rivulets from his knees, down his shins, while the pulsing throb of his knee distracted him from the pain in his head.

  In the silence, he glanced up. Kate’s laughter had stopped, and she surged to her feet to stare out at the court while everyone stood around waiting for him to move. He dipped his head to gaze at the damage again. It throbbed like a son of a bitch. Buddy had his back to him. Shoulders back, he strutted in a boastful swagger, high-fiving the rest of the team as though he’d scored, not just fouled a player.

  The little bastard was going to die, and Jack was the one to murder him.

  Sweat tickled his brow, and Jack raised his hand, pulling it away to look at the fresh smear of blood on his fingers where his stitches had obviously pulled open. The fucker was definitely due to be terminated.

  He whipped his head up as Bill stepped in close. “Jesus, Jack.” She placed her hand on his shoulder and bent down to get a better look at his skinned knees as they both watched the crimson streak of blood trickle down into his sports socks, soaking them. His raised his head, fury whipping through him while he met her concerned gaze. Rage ran hot and rampant through his veins. He was ready to crunch the little bastard.

  Slow to straighten, he came face-to-face with Kate.

  “Off the court, Jack.” She put one cool hand on his arm to guide him.

  “Not on your life, sweet cheeks.” The only sign she acknowledged his insult was a light lift of her brows and a rapid blink. “I need one more play.” His voice was a deadly snarl as he moved his shoulder to shrug her arm off.

  It didn’t work. She was a lot more resilient than he’d given her credit for.

  “You’re injured and you’re bleeding all over the court. As a doctor, I would say you’ve had enough for one day. As a friend,” she paused to give a tight smile and lowered her voice, “I would say I can see the signs of a brawl coming up.” She gave his arm a light squeeze. “Didn’t we speak about your brawling just the other day?”

  She rubbed her thumb against the inside of his elbow as the sweat ran down into his eyes. He blinked at her several times. Her cool perusal of him made him hesitate as he saw the determination there and saw also his humiliation if he didn’t move off the court as everyone there watched the exchange.

  A smile split her face and weakened his resolve.

  “Don’t make me use my Cuban’s on you.”

  Puzzled, Jack gazed at her perfectly white teeth as her grin widened.

  “You’re threatening me with a cigar?”

  She flung back her head and chortled, exposing the fine white skin of her neck and proving that he could make her laugh. “No, Jack. My Cuban heels.” She twisted her ankle for him to look at her shoes, but he could only tease his gaze as far as her shapely ankles.

  He could give in gracefully or make a damned fool of himself by arguing. She didn’t need to use her heels; she’d already stunned his brain by turning her bright smile on him.

  Game over.

  He glanced beyond her to see Mac, arms crossed over his enormous chest and an evil grin on his beautiful face.

  “My turn to play, Jack. Go let the doc tend to your injuries, while I wipe the court clean.”

  With a dramatic sigh, good enough to rival his cousin’s acting abilities, Jack slung his right arm around Kate’s shoulder. He pulled her in tight and leaned on her a little heavier than he needed to until her left arm came around his waist and her right hand gently soothed as she laid it on his chest. She half turned toward him as they hobbled off the court.

  Unable to resist, he wiggled his eyebrows at Buddy over the top of her head and grinned like the devil, and like the devil the smile never reached his eyes. The poor guy was just about to be pulverized by Mac.

  »»•««

  He hadn’t been treated like he was a kid since, well, he was a kid. She’d whipped all his authority from him just like his grandmother did to his grandfather, and Jack had gone with it, unprotestingly. It was exactly what he wanted to avoid.

  While Kate cleaned the dirt and gravel out of his knees, he couldn’t rid himself of the anger boiling just below the surface. Anger at Buddy for being a dick, anger at Mac for flirting with Kate, and anger at Kate for tangling his emotions again.

  With deft movements, she wrapped a bandage around his left knee—the one he’d come down on hardest, which currently resembled chopped liver. He stared at the right one. It was only lightly grazed.

  The light cool scent of a summer day soothed his senses as she tended to him. The smell of shampo
o, perfume, and woman mixed quite naturally with the antiseptics and disinfectants. It was her smell that did it—unique, clean, and unbearably arousing as he sat there with his legs dangling stupidly, and his shorts showing the prominent rush of blood that left his head to race in gleeful embarrassment straight to his loins the moment she touched him.

  What was wrong with him that he couldn’t control his lust?

  What was wrong with her that she hadn’t even noticed? After all, he was waving a flag at her. All due respect to her professionalism, she hadn’t flicked a glance in that direction, despite her head lowered almost between his legs.

  He couldn’t drag his attention from her, and his mind insisted on weaving dirty little scenarios for him. While her attention was elsewhere, he cruised his gaze over her. She had beautiful breasts. He hadn’t had chance to touch them…yet. He’d only held her perfect ass. But her breasts. He lowered his head to take a better look. Not easy with her own head dipped, but if he shifted to the left a little he got a better view. Not overly big, but big enough to fill his hands. He wondered what she would say if he did just that. Filled his hands with her.

  “It’s like dealing with naughty little schoolboys.” She cut into his thoughts to give him a guilty start.

  She finished up and then leaned into him to check the stitches above his eye. Her gaze flickered over his face, a general perusal of her patient. “I’ll take these out for you now, save you visiting the hospital later. They should be fine. I think you caught the edge of this one, but it hasn’t opened up. There’s a little blood.” Her voice washed over him like a cool shower on a hot summer’s day. He didn’t want to be soothed, and he really didn’t want her in particular to soothe him right now.

  He moved his hand, a slow deliberate action, slid it in past her open white coat, and cupped her breast. He stared into the turbulent sea of her eyes to judge her reaction as he gave a light squeeze. “When are you and I going to get it on, Doc?”