Bailey had intended to head to her house and recover her equilibrium, but her truck’s fuel gage showed the tank was empty. She sighed and pulled into Riverbend’s one gas station.
The family who owned the station had also built the restaurant next door, turning the corner into one of the most popular in town. Breakfast time on weekends saw the place packed, Mrs. Ward’s biscuits and gravy the best in the county.
Bailey pulled in next to the pumps and got out, her movements wooden. She’d fuel up, go home to her cozy little house, sit down, and try to cool off. Later she’d have to go back to the Campbell’s ranch—she was helping Grant and Tyler work up a new act for the Fall Festival. She couldn’t let them down because their brother had kissed her.
She’d have to face Adam again, look into his eyes, remembering the feeling of his mouth on hers, his hands hot under her breasts. When they’d been younger, and Adam had made love to her, he’d been all smiles and energy—now he had the slow assuredness of experience, knowing how to draw a woman into passion …
“Bailey.”
Bailey jumped, the gas nozzle in her hand, and nearly splashed herself with fuel. She quickly shoved the nozzle into her tank and locked it in place.
She straightened up, facing Kyle Malory, hoping Adam hadn’t left actual marks on her skin. “Hey, Kyle. How are you?”
Kyle grinned, his easy handsomeness a contrast to Adam’s ruined face and intense eyes. “’Bout the same as last time you saw me. Want to grab a drink when you’re done tonight?”
“Um …” Tell me the truth. Are you with Kyle? Adam’s voice rang in her head. She remembered the hard, almost desperate look in his eyes when he’d asked the question.
“Not tonight,” Bailey said quickly to Kyle. “I’m going to be working my butt off this afternoon, and I plan to fall asleep as soon as I’m home.”
Kyle shrugged, unworried. “Tomorrow then.”
He looked certain that she’d pick a night, and they’d make a date. Another evening of beers and pool, followed by Kyle kissing her good-night in his truck, confident that she’d invite him inside; if not tonight, then one of these nights.
“No, sorry, I’m doing something with Christina tomorrow night.”
He nodded, still unconcerned. “Weekdays are crazy. How about I pick you up on Saturday? About nine? Give us both a chance to wash the horse sweat off us.”
“Kyle.”
The firm note in her voice made him frown, his green eyes narrowing. Every girl in town envied Bailey the scrutiny of those brilliant emerald eyes.
Kyle looked her up and down with them now. “What’s wrong? I like your company, Bailey. Pick a time, and tell me. I’m not a pushy guy.”
Bailey gave a short laugh. “Yes, you are. But that’s not why. It’s not—”
“Crap on a crutch.” Kyle held his hand straight out. “Stop right there. Are you about to say It’s not you, it’s me?”
“Well, it isn’t you.” Bailey folded her arms, wanting to shiver, even though the late September sun was plenty warm. “I’m just not ready to be serious again.”
“Serious?” Kyle stared at her. “There’s nothing serious. We go to the bar, we talk and have fun. We haven’t even gone to bed. I haven’t had a relationship this not-serious in a long time. I didn’t think I was pushing you.”
“You’re not. That’s why I’m saying it’s me. I need more time.”
Kyle studied her for a while, sunlight glittering in his eyes. Then his brows came together, anger sparking at last.
“Bailey, you lying shit,” he said. “I never knew you had it in you.”
Chapter Nine
“What?” Bailey’s temper rose. “Watch who you’re calling a shit. What am I lying about?”
“This I’m-not-ready-to-get-serious crap you’re trying to pull on me.” Kyle’s gaze was sharp, his face dark with anger. “Has nothing to do with waiting until you’re ready, does it? It’s Adam, right? I saw how you were with him during the pool game Saturday night. You looked like you wanted to crawl all over him.”
Bailey drew herself up. “I did not. I was out with you. I don’t do that.” Certainly not after she’d been on the receiving end of what being cheated on felt like. Which was why she would not go out with Kyle again. Not while Adam had possession of her every thought.
“You were all over him in here.” Kyle tapped the side of his forehead. “What the hell do you see in him? Adam Campbell is so fucking full of himself. Deserted his family for the fame of Hollywood, and look what it got him? Banged up and half dead, and everyone feels sorry for him, including you. But don’t fool yourself.” He folded his arms, closing himself off. “He won’t care about you, Bailey. He only wants to win. Me and him have been scrapping since we were six, and I’ve learned a thing or two about Adam. He’ll do anything to get what he wants, but that don’t mean he wants it forever. I’ve heard the stories of what he did out in L.A.—the parties with escorts, the women he dates and drops like they were nothing. Women are all over him, but he takes the ones he wants, uses them, and he’s done.”
His speech stabbed uncertainty through her, which only made Bailey angrier. “How do you know?” she snapped. “You’ve never been to L.A., and I doubt he texts you about his conquests.”
Kyle gave her a patient look. “Because he tells Grant. Grant told Christina everything when they were together, Christina is good friends with my sisters, and they told me. Can’t keep a secret in a small town, even if you’re a thousand miles away from it.”
Bailey’s face warmed. She knew stories like that would get around—she’d been oblivious of them in her closed-off life in Austin—but she also knew they got exaggerated.
“I’m sure there are great stories about him,” she said. “Told over and over until there’s a little bit of truth left, but not much.”
“Sweetheart, if Adam had had a long-term relationship with a woman, any woman, you’d have known it. Everyone in town would have told you, even when you were living with your high-tech city friends. Look around—do you see him married with kiddies? Bringing home a steady girlfriend to meet the family? Trust me, as soon as Adam feels better, he’ll be running right back to his nonstop-action life, and you’ll be just another conquest. Don’t let him do that do to you.”
“I am not a conquest.” Bailey drew a sharp breath, unable to banish Adam’s dark voice saying I’m one to take what I want. “It doesn’t matter. I meant it when I said I didn’t need anything serious. With you or with him.”
Kyle studied her a moment longer, then he gave a little nod, as though deciding something. “What’s sad is you really believe that. Tell you what—you do what you think you have to. When Adam breaks your heart and stomps all over it, then hightails it back to L.A., you give me a call. If I’m not still pissed off at you, we might go for beers again. Okay?”
Bailey let out a sigh. “Kyle, I’m sorry …”
“Don’t be sorry, babe.” Kyle slapped on the black cowboy hat he’d taken off to talk to her. “Just be careful. You’ve been burned, and you’re vulnerable. Remember that. See you round, Bailey. Give my best to your sister.” He gave her a polite nod and stalked off toward his truck he’d left in front of the convenience store.
The pump had long since shut off, Bailey’s tank filled. She jerked the nozzle from the tank and hung it up, taking the receipt from the automated machine.
Kyle’s truck roared to life as she closed up her gas tank. In spite of his anger at her, he didn’t peel out or drive recklessly. He calmly pulled out into the road, waiting for one car to pass before he did. He didn’t turn his head to look at Bailey—his hat pointed straight ahead as he drove off into the afternoon sunshine.
Bailey got into her truck but sat motionlessly in the driver’s seat for a long time. Adam’s touch had fired her, imprinting himself on her. Kyle’s words cut cold through that.
Of course Bailey hadn’t expected Adam to be a saint, and they hadn’t had any kind of understanding when he
’d left. They’d parted as friends only, no commitments—they’d both known they wouldn’t be able to keep any promises. Their lives would be too different, too far apart.
Adam and Bailey were older now, both damaged by life, both starting again. Could Kyle not see that? Or could Kyle see the truth, because he had a better perspective, not being too close to either of them?
No, Bailey decided. Kyle was Adam’s rival and always would be. Kyle would do everything he could to keep Adam from having what he wanted; they’d always been at odds.
Bailey sat in her truck so long as her thoughts churned that one of the guys who worked at the station came over to her.
“Can I help you with anything, Miss Farrell?” he asked, peering in through her open window. He was a nice kid, about eighteen—he called any woman over twenty-one Miss, regardless of their marital status.
“No, I’m fine,” Bailey said, smiling up at his scruffy face. “I was just daydreaming.”
“Hey, if you’re hungry, Mrs. Ward’s bringing in the first harvest pies of the season. Take one home.”
“Thanks, I might.” Bailey started her truck and drove slowly across the parking lot toward the restaurant. Still troubled, she did go inside and buy a pie to take home. She’d have a slice for lunch and take it to the Campbells’ with her this afternoon. They’d eat every crumb of it before dinner. Guaranteed.
**
Adam’s family took the news of the lawsuit surprisingly well. Or, not so surprisingly. They were angry but ready to fight, all of them behind him. Adam looked up and down the dining-room table, warming at the determination on their faces.
“I know a lot of lawyers,” Carter said when Adam finished. “Want me to call one?”
“No, I have lawyers,” Adam said. “But I’ll keep it in mind. Who knows if I might need the extra help?”
Carter had hired a private detective and lawyers when Faith’s mother had dumped her then disappeared. He’d wanted to find the woman and try to make her care about the daughter she’d abandoned. Didn’t work. After a time, Carter had decided Faith was better off staying with him and stopped trying.
“Thanks, Carter,” Adam said, touched. Carter rarely liked to mention, even indirectly, his problems with Faith’s mother.
Carter gave him a steady look. “You’re a dickhead, but you’re my brother.”
“Now, boys,” Olivia said, folding her tanned arms on her placemat. “No name calling at the table. We’re behind you, Adam. You’ve worked too hard to have this happen to you. It wasn’t your fault.”
Adam didn’t correct her. He didn’t feel right talking about it with anyone but Bailey. “This doesn’t only affect me,” he said. “They want to shut the whole business down.”
“We’ll fight it,” Tyler said, reaching for another helping of potato salad. “Don’t you worry, Adam. Nothing can stop Campbells, once they team up.”
“And Sullivans,” Faith said. “Don’t forget us.”
“Like I could.” Tyler sent his niece a grin.
His family looked concerned, but not unduly worried. Adam was plenty worried, but he liked that they had his back. It was a good feeling.
He carried that feeling with him, as well as the memory of Bailey’s soft lips, the taste of her breast filling his mouth, all the way through the afternoon to the bar that night.
Grant was with him, the two of them not talking much over the music. Grant had come because Christina had the night off, probably out with Ray Malory. What the hell did Bailey and her sister see in those two?
Kyle Malory made the night worse by coming up to the bar and leaning on it next to Adam. He ordered his favorite beer from the pretty female bartender, who responded to his smile with a swift one of her own.
He winked at her when he took his beer, and she said, “Oh, come on, Kyle, quit,” before turning away to another customer, leaving Kyle with Adam.
Over the blast of the music, Kyle said to Adam, “I’m going to kick your ass, Campbell.”
Grant, hearing, craned to look around Adam. “Picking on a man when he’s down, are you? Just like a Malory.”
Kyle scowled at him. “This is between me and Adam. You coming outside?” he asked Adam.
Adam closed his hand around his beer bottle. “Not going anywhere with you until you tell me what the hell you’re talking about. If this is about the pool game, I won that fair and square.”
“I don’t give a shit about the pool game. This is about Bailey.”
Adam was off his seat before Kyle’s last syllable was swallowed by the thumping beat of the latest country-rock band. He had his hand on Kyle’s shoulder, feeling Kyle quivering with anger under his palm, and steered the other man around the tables and outside.
Chapter Ten
The parking lot had plenty of people in it, from those who wanted to talk away from the music to couples entwined in the shadows. No alcohol was allowed beyond a certain point, and the far side of the parking lot was deserted.
Adam set his beer on the rim of a pickup bed. He knew the guy standing there kissing his wife, and said, “Watch that for me, Mike,” before walking with Kyle, who’d shaken off his hold, to the empty side of the lot.
Grant was right behind Adam, and Carter, who’d seen them go, came after them. One of Kyle’s friends, seeing them and scenting trouble, broke off from the group he’d been talking with to come stand beside Kyle.
“I told you,” Kyle said, glaring at Grant and Carter as they all stopped in the shadows. “This is between me and Adam.”
“And Adam is recovering from one hell of a crash,” Grant said. “We’re staying.”
“I’m fine,” Adam said, voice hardening. “I could have kicked Kyle’s ass when my leg was still in the splint. I only came out here because I want to hear what he has to say about Bailey. Be really careful what that is, Malory. I’m in a bad mood.”
“I’m talking about how you’re fucking with her,” Kyle said. “The look in her eyes when she spoke about you today almost broke my heart. She’s all bent out of shape over you, and you’re treating her like a piece of shit.”
“She said that?” Adam asked. Is that what Bailey thought? She’d been unhappy when she’d left the ranch, and Adam did not like the idea that he’d made her so. He also didn’t like that she’d spilled everything to Kyle. If she had. This could be Kyle’s bullshit.
“She didn’t have to,” Kyle was saying. “She was upset when I saw her this afternoon, and I know it was because of you. She’d not one of your dressed-up whores, Campbell. She doesn’t understand guys like you.”
“What, she understands guys like you?” Adam’s anger ran hot. He’d been around pushy shits for years now, and he’d learned to handle them, but Kyle always brought out the worst in him.
“I’m trying to save Bailey some hurting,” Kyle said. “You’re hurting her, so I’m going to kick your ass for it.”
“Good.” Adam made a show of rolling up his sleeves. “I’m getting bored sitting around with nothing to do. Come on.”
Carter, the only one who ever dared get between Adam and something he was after, came around Adam and faced Kyle. “You’re not going to hit a man who’s been injured as bad as he has,” he told Kyle.
“It’s all right, baby bro,” Adam said. “He’ll never see what’s coming.”
Grant flanked Adam on the other side. “Cool it, Adam. You’re not fighting. If he wants to go at it, he can take Carter and me.”
Kyle’s friend Jack, who was about six feet three with a shaved head and solid, tattooed arms stepped next to Kyle, looking ready to start in.
Kyle made a negating signal. “My beef is with Adam. I’ll save the fight until he’s better—that’s only fair—but this is between me and him. The rest of you can stay out of it. You too, Jack.”
Jack said nothing, remaining stoic as always. Jack Hillman was also a friend of Carter’s, but he always backed up the Malorys for some reason.
“I agree,” Adam said. “No one else in
volved; no one else gets hurt.”
“Exactly,” Kyle said. “Only I’ve thought of something better than a fight. We can punch at each other anytime. I want this to count.”
“Sure you do,” Adam said, impatient. “Don’t chicken out—afraid I’ll make you look bad?”
“This will be better than a straight fight,” Kyle said, his angry look smoothing into his slick smile. “I want you losing to me in front of more people than your brothers. I want this in front of the entire town.”
“All right.” Adam was boiling, ready to light into him, but he could be a good sport. “Then everyone can watch me beat the crap out of you.”
“Not a fight. A challenge. The Fall Festival is coming up in a couple weeks. We face off in a place we’re on equal footing, so to speak.” He shot a glance at Adam’s healing leg. “The riding arena. I’ll be happy just to prove I’m better than the great Hollywood stuntman, but if you want to make it more interesting with a bet …”
“Are you kidding me?” Adam heard his own voice sounding normal, as though he didn’t care. “I ride professionally. That’s not a challenge.”
“I ride professionally too, dirtbag. I stick to the rodeo circuit while you live in cushy hotel rooms and rehearse every move you make. This is life, not the movies. Out here, it’s raw, and real.”
Thinking about some of the condemned motel rooms and supply closets he’d had to sleep in at shoots, and the twenty-hour days with no sleep and little food, made Adam want to laugh. Kyle didn’t have a clue what he was talking about. The movie life looked glamorous from the outside but was a lot of grungy work on the inside.
Kyle waited, watching, for Adam to agree.
Adam imagined himself jumping up on a horse to easily best Kyle … and something clenched around his solar plexus. Adam’s next breath was hard coming, his throat closing up.
What the hell was wrong with him? He’d done far scarier things than enter a show ring at the Fall Festival. He’d fallen backward off a twenty-story building, hit the corner of his landing bag instead of the middle, broke his foot and his hand and scuffed himself bloody, and still had climbed back up to the roof for another take.
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