Raylan

by Lindsay Cross

  Obviously, not planted by her.

  They went inside the house and into the kitchen which was off to the right of the living room. The old house was laid out in the early nineteen-hundreds style, with a small formal foyer stretching half-way through the house, doors on each side, and a hallway in the back. A galley-style kitchenette, with the original white-painted cabinets and wood floors, left little room for maneuvering, but Amber didn’t need a lot. Plus, the walk-in pantry was big enough to store a year’s worth of food.

  “So what’s the deal with Tommy?” Saline dropped her purse on the skinny island and plopped down on a stool. Immediately, her phone chirped and she grabbed her phone.

  A text from Tommy. Call me.

  Amber cringed, dropped the phone and grabbed the tequila and mixer from the pantry shelf. “He’s still calling.”

  She set the ingredients on the counter, keeping her back to Saline.

  “How often?”

  Amber shrugged and poured the liquor and margarita mix into the blender. Then she dumped a cup of ice and hit the on switch. The noisy blender usurped all conversation, and gave Amber a small break in the interrogation.

  Tommy’s calls were annoying, but so far, non-threatening. Raylan wasn’t annoying and he wasn’t non-threatening. His very existence challenged her nice quiet routine, something she’d worked hard to maintain.

  Amber switched off the mixer, poured two big glasses, and passed one to her friend before taking her seat at the other end of the counter. She took a sip and a strong punch of tequila stung her tongue.

  Saline coughed and gave Amber a raised eyebrow, “You looking to get wasted?”

  “Absolutely.” Amber took another gulp.

  “Spill.” Saline turned fully on the stool to face her.

  Amber repressed the urge to look away. She needed to talk to someone. If she couldn’t unload on her best friend, who could she talk to? “Tommy is driving me nuts. He keeps calling, even during work, insisting that we meet up and talk. That he loves me and can’t live without me.” Amber frowned and took another sip.

  “Did you tell him to stop calling?”

  “Yes, I told him to please stop bothering me, especially during work.”

  “And you expected him to stop when you used your old-lady polite tone?”

  “What do you expect me to do? Yell at him?” She never yelled. Never felt the need. All situations could be handled with a polite conversation and manners. People responded better to respect than sarcasm.

  Saline slammed her drink down on the counter “When are you going to outgrow your mother’s Miss Manner’s debutant classes and grow a pair of balls?”

  Amber choked, slapped a hand over her mouth, and tilted her head back to keep the icy liquid from coming back up. She glared at Saline when she could breathe again, the stabbing shot of brainfreeze making her eyes narrow. “You don’t have to be indelicate to get your point across. I believe the last conversation made Tommy realize I’m serious. He hasn’t called since.”

  “And that was what? Yesterday?”

  She had to fight to keep her gaze steady. “Doesn’t matter when, just that he hasn’t called since then.”

  “It was today!” Saline pointed at her, eyes wide and mouth open.

  Amber shrugged. “Maybe.”

  “Girl, you’ve got a problem. Why would he stop hounding you if you never let him know how much you really dislike him? I mean, how much more of a whiney ass can a man get? I bet he cries when he talks to you, doesn’t he?”

  “Every stinking time.” That was part the reason Amber found it so hard to be mean to her ex. She dropped her head into her hands. “I can’t be mean to him.”

  “Oh yeah, you can. It’s easy.” Saline pointed to her face. “Here, say it with me. Fuck. Off.”

  Amber stiffened and glared. “You know I don’t say those words.”

  “You should. You’d probably be a lot happier right now if you got some of that repression out of your system.”

  “I’m not repressed. Did you not see what I just did at the bar?”

  Saline’s mouth twisted in a wry grin. “That’s the first time I’ve ever seen you lose your temper.”

  “So, I’m supposed to just go around being a witch all the time?”

  “Not a witch, but be yourself. It’s okay to let people know when you’re mad or upset. Hell, you’d get rid of that bitch Darla as a client if you stood up to her.”

  “I can’t go around telling my customers I don’t like them. That’s my business.”

  “You can’t tell Tommy to kiss off. You can’t tell your bitchy-ass clients to kiss off. What can you do?”

  Amber opened her mouth to tell Saline exactly what she could do, but her words were cut off by a knock at the door. She slammed her lips together, stalked from the room, and yanked open the front door.

  Tommy stood there, a bouquet of roses in one hand, his ball cap in the other. “I thought I saw your car in the drive.”

  Saline cleared her throat.

  Amber shot her a killing glare while embarrassment heated her cheeks.

  Saline arched that dang blonde eyebrow, her challenge hanging in the air.

  “Amber?” Tommy’s pleading tone pulled her attention back to her front porch, and the man-boy she wished would just disappear. “What are you doing here?” Her weak tone sounded pathetic even to her own ears.

  Saline nudged her, and as subtly as Amber could manage, she threw an elbow back.

  Her friend’s gasp was pure sweet music.

  Tommy glared over Amber’s shoulder, but brought his attention back to her when Amber crossed her arms.

  “I came to talk to you in person. Can I come inside?” He held out the flowers.

  Amber ignored them. He’d gone too far this time. “No, you can’t. I’ve asked you to stop calling. I don’t want you here.” There, much more stern.

  “You can’t just break up with me and expect me to forget about you.” His lower lip poked out.

  Saline snickered right behind her, and Tommy flushed.

  A shot of mortification hit Amber, and it was all she could do not to turn around and smack her friend. Amber uncrossed her arms and gentled her tone, “Tommy, listen, I’m sorry this is hard for you, but you have to understand. I am done with this relationship. Please stop calling me, and please don’t come over anymore.”

  He flicked his ball cap on and reached for her hand, snagging it before she could jerk away. “Amber, just hear me out.”

  “She said no, asshole.”

  Saline stepped to her side and although Amber wanted to cringe at her harsh words, she was glad her friend was here.

  Tommy made a weird sound and squeezed her hand tighter. “Back off, bitch. It’s your fault she broke up with me in the first place.”

  Amber gasped and yanked her hand free. His touch made her skin crawl. “How dare you?”

  Tommy took a small step forward.

  A bolt of alarm tightened Amber’s stomach, and she grabbed the door.

  “If it wasn’t for that little bitch, we’d still be together.” Tommy’s eyes bulged, and the roses shook in his hand. Then he focused his rage on her.

  She flinched instinctively. She’d never seen him so furious. As a matter of fact, she’d never seen him as anything but sweet and slightly whiney. Her grip tightened on the door. “Please, just leave.”

  “We’re not through.” Tommy’s tone wasn’t pleading anymore. He took a step, nearly crossing the threshold.

  Amber’s heart shot up in her throat. “Yes, we are.”

  Before he could react, she slammed the door and flipped the deadbolt.

  “You’re gonna regret this.” Tommy hit the door, and it rattled on the frame.

  Saline grabbed Amber and backed away. “You need to call the sheriff.”

  He hit the door again. They both jumped.

  “Leave or I’m calling the cops.” Amber forced her voice past the giant ball of fear in her throat.

&n
bsp; Hands clutched together, they stood a few feet back, neither of them moving. A minute passed. And then another.

  “We need to see if his truck is still out there,” Saline said.

  Amber nodded, her heart still pounding. “Okay.”

  “Come on.” Saline pulled her forward to the long narrow window framing the front door. She leaned sideways to peek outside, her shoulders stiff.

  Amber held her breath. What if he was still out there?

  “He’s gone.” Saline’s shoulders deflated, and she collapsed back against the wall, hand over her chest.

  “I can’t believe you said that to him.” Amber gasped and doubled over, nervous laughter bubbling up inside her.

  “Did you see his face? O.M.G., I thought he was gonna stroke out.” Saline’s laughter joined hers.

  “What is it with me and losers?” Seriously, maybe she should rethink the whole relationship thing. Her first boyfriend had left her high and dry, now Tommy turned out to be a crazy. “I need that drink.”

  Saline pushed off the wall, her laughter dying. “Me, too.”

  A few margaritas and a New Year’s-worthy buzz later, Amber said, “I’m seriously done with men.”

  Saline, her words slurred, reached across the table and took Amber’s hand. “Don’t worry. The right guy is out there. I’m going to make it my personal mission to find him for you.”

  Amber groaned, “I am not going out with Steve.”

  “What’s wrong with him? He’s good-looking, he dresses well. He comes in every other week to let you cut his hair just so he can spend time with you.”

  “And he wears skinny jeans and carries a man-bag. I swear his purse is bigger than mine.” Amber turned her glass up only to find it empty. When had she drunk the whole thing?

  “I got it.” Saline jumped up, and staggered to the bar, grabbed the pitcher, and dumped the rest of the mix into Amber’s glass. A big chunk plopped onto the table.

  Amber burst out laughing. “You’re drunk.”

  “Yep. So are you.” Saline pointed a wavering finger in her face then stumbled back to the bar and grabbed a dishtowel.

  “Not so drunk that I’d let you hook me up with Steve the queen.” Amber grabbed the towel and swiped at the glob on the table.

  “It’s called metrosexual—just because he takes care of himself doesn’t make him feminine.” Saline slid back into her chair, barely catching herself before she toppled over.

  Amber rolled her eyes. “It’s called gay. And the only reason he comes into my salon every other week is to make sure he’s got the latest gossip on every single person in this town.”

  “Well, what about—”

  Amber cut Saline off midsentence. “No men tonight, just margaritas. Big, big margaritas.” Amber held up a thirty-two ounce tumbler. “Let’s toast to best friends and assholes.”

  They both took a huge gulp at same time and came up coughing.

  “Damn, I’m wasted,” Saline gasped.

  Amber giggled and very carefully set her glass on the table. “I may have been a little distracted when I was pouring the tequila.”

  “Let’s get out of these dresses and play some cards,” Saline said.

  “Great idea.” Amber went to her bedroom to change into some PJs. She got one leg in her yoga pants and crashed to the floor. Not buzzed. Drunk. Definitely drunk.

  Saline came into the room and grabbed the bed for support, laughing. “You need some help?”

  Amber closed one eye, concentrated through the fog and got her other foot in. Somehow, she managed to get to her feet and change into a comfy shirt.

  “Why’s your window open?” Saline asked. “It’s a thousand degrees outside.”

  Amber glared at the cracked window. She didn’t remember opening it. A little bit of alarm hit her, but she couldn’t figure out why. She crossed to it, shut and locked it. No telling. She’d been so distracted with Tommy and his calls this week, she’d locked her keys in her car. Twice.

  “Come on, I need another drink.” Amber went back into the kitchen, Saline right behind her. A while later they were on their fifth round of Uno, and the rainbow of cards in front of them had started to blur about three rounds ago.

  “Go fish.” Saline slapped a red number three onto the table.

  Amber nearly fell out of her chair. “We’re playing Uno.”

  Saline squinted hard at the cards in her hands. “Oh crap. No wonder I suck at this game.”

  Amber erupted in laughter. “Should’ve been playing for money.”

  Saline scowled, but before she could say anything the doorbell rang.

  Amber shot to her feet and immediately the world tilted. She grabbed onto the back of her chair. “Are you kidding me?”

  “Tell me where you’re gun is. That bastard will regret coming back here,” Saline said.

  “No gun.” A little inkling of fear edged into her buzz. What would she do if Tommy had come back? What would he do?

  “Fine, I don’t need a gun to put that asshole in his place.” Saline shot to her feet and ran to the living room.

  “No.” Amber ran after Saline, caught her friend, and yanked her back before she opened the door. “Let me look first.”

  Amber approached the door like she would approach a pit of boiling tar, hovering near the edge, and she peered around the edge of the window. And what she saw made her gasp. She ripped the front door open, planted her fist on her hips and glared. “What are you doing here?”

  Raylan put a hand against her doorframe and locked his smoldering eyes on hers. “I wanted to talk to you.”

  Amber’s heart pummeled her chest, and she quickly crossed her arms before her heart punched through a rib. God, his sexy Cajun accent still made her bones melt.

  “What is it with men coming here in the middle of the night?” Amber waved her hand between them, nervous energy taking control of her limbs.

  “What men?” Raylan’s dark eyebrows swooped down.

  “Just a psycho ex-boyfriend,” Saline said from behind her.

  “I fail to see how me stopping by here is psycho.”

  Even his reasonable tone oozed male hotness. Amber found herself leaning closer. She inhaled deep, savoring his fresh scent. “Not you. My other ex.”

  Raylan stood straight and crossed his arms, his lips easing into a smile. “Glad to know you don’t think I’m crazy.”

  “No, she thinks you’re hot,” Saline blurted out.

  Amber turned fully to her friend and glared. “Don’t you have something else to do?”

  “Nope. This is waaayyyy too interesting.” Saline leaned closer, and in a whisper loud enough to wake a dead man, said, “Forget Tommy and Steve. He’s way better.”

  “Ladies, do you mind if I come in, or do I need to plan on standing out here all night?”

  Anger had Amber clenching her hands into fists, but before she could tell Raylan to kiss off, Saline’s hand shot past her and yanked him into the house.

  “Of course not, come on, I was about to mix up another drink.”

  “Saline,” Amber’s voice rose in warning.

  Her friend winked and pulled Raylan behind her into the kitchen. Amber collapsed against the door and leaned her head back. Resisting Tommy had been easier than boiling water. She’d reacted to him, but only with pity and a slight tinge of disgust.

  Raylan Wild was an altogether different monster.

  He made her body zing with electricity whenever he was near. She couldn’t think, couldn’t maintain her calm control and polite façade.

  “Amber, you coming?” Saline called out from the kitchen.

  Amber shoved off from the door, determined to ignore the way her breasts got all tingly knowing Raylan was in her house. Just because he was the only man who’d ever given her an orgasm didn’t mean he deserved a reward.

  She squared her shoulders and took a deep breath. She’d already faced down one ex-boyfriend tonight. How hard could it be to deal with another one?

 
Three

  Raylan watched Amber walk into the kitchen, unable to take his gaze off her. The past six years had been generous. Her once slim, girlish figure was now a little more rounded, with a set of hips his hands itched to hold. She’d let her hair grow longer, and the mahogany color seemed even richer than before. His dreams hadn’t done her justice.

  When Lori had invited him to go out with David, her husband, and Greer tonight, he’d been hesitant. He was only in Mercy for a job interview, not a date. But when Lori mentioned Amber’s name, he’d been unable to think of anything else.

  And then he’d seen her at the bar, shining like the sun through a stormy cloud, and just like before, he’d been inexplicably drawn to her.

  Now, he just had to figure out a way to ease the hostile expression on her face.

  “So, Raylan, what brings you over in the middle of the night?” Saline’s words slurred. She made to prop her chin in her hand but missed.

  Raylan glanced at the counter and spotted a half-empty bottle of tequila. So they’d snuck off from the bar and gotten drunk.

  Amber eased down into the chair opposite him on the small rectangular table. “Yes, why are you here?”

  He held in a sigh. Amber’s words came out as ramrod straight as her spine. Obviously, she’d restrained herself a little bit more than her friend. Damn, he could have benefitted from some tequila softening her up like it obviously had Saline. “Just to visit. You left the bar in a rush before I could really talk to you.”

  “So you show up, unannounced and unwelcome, at—” She squinted past his shoulder, and he followed her gaze to the small clock on the counter. “At midnight?”

  More like one a.m.

  Amber slapped a palm on the counter and straightened once more, only this time, she leaned slightly to the left.

  Some of the tension eased from his shoulders. “I saw your light on, just a hunch you were still awake. Thought now would be a great time to catch up.”

  “Catch up?”

  “Talk. There’s something you should know.”

  “And why should she listen to you?” Saline leaned deeper into her hand, her lids sinking low.