Texas Tangle

by Leah Braemel

  “Hey, it’s all right, Nik.” Dillon laid a hand on her shoulder, rubbing it lightly. “At least you weren’t away any longer, and from the looks of it, the horses are all okay. It won’t take us long to get it cleaned up.”

  “Yeah, it just pisses me off. All his life Phil has gotten away with this type of shit while I’ve been left cleaning up after him. I wish just once he’d do something without me having to push him every step of the way.”

  “He’s twenty-four years old. It’s time you push him out to find his own way, damn the consequences. I just can’t figure out why he couldn’t live at your parents’.”

  “It’s part of the court stipulations. He had to live within Barnett County until the remainder of his sentence is served. Since Mom and Dad moved back to Michigan…”

  “You didn’t feel like you could turn your back on your family. I get that. But why couldn’t Phil have gotten an apartment of his own?”

  “He can’t afford it without a job. And a guy with a record isn’t exactly the type most employers are looking for.” She wasn’t about to explain how her mother had played the guilt card, or how she’d not felt she could say no. Besides, she was the only one living in the house now, not to mention she’d thought Phil would help out. “If it was one of your brothers, wouldn’t you have taken them in?”

  “Yeah, I guess I would. But they would have been out here doin’ their chores instead of parkin’ their keisters on the couch all day.”

  There wasn’t much she could say to that, so Nikki returned her attention to her chores. They worked in a companionable silence, though she’d never been so aware of having another person in the barn with her. When she reached for a bag of grain, Dillon took it from her as if it were no heavier than a bag of sugar. “I got it.”

  His stomach muscles taut, he carried it to the spot between Bashir’s and Witness’s stall doors before dropping it. He bent over to rip it open, his jeans pulling tight over his ass. Paying so much attention to the delectable sight instead of where she was walking, Nikki stumbled over an empty bucket she’d left on the ground.

  “Whoa, watch out there.” Dillon grabbed her, his arm whipping around her waist.

  She landed against him with an oomph, aware of how his thigh muscle pressed against hers, his arms banded around her waist, his muscular chest mashed into her breasts. She could have blamed the heat flooding her on the sultry August evening, but she had no explanation for the electricity arcing between them.

  His breath whispered out of him, a soft caress over her cheek. The brim of his cowboy hat brushed the top of her head as he closed the distance between them, skimming his lips over hers.

  Holy crap, he was kissing her. In real life, not in one of her fantasies.

  She tilted her head, her hands clutching his arms half afraid he might disappear if she let go. While beneath her hand, his heart pounded in a steady beat, her own pulse spiked as fast as a hummingbird’s.

  The tip of his tongue brushed the seam of her mouth; she parted her lips, allowing him entrance. He didn’t plunder, but he didn’t let her escape either. A hint of burnt coffee and spicy male teased her taste buds. Her breath hitched when he shifted positions, pressing the hard length of his erection into the cradle of her hips. Savoring the taste of him, her mind swirled into fantasies of getting naked with him, his hot flesh sliding over her, into her.

  One of his hands slid under her tee and splayed over the small of her back. A shiver zigzagged along her spine, following the path of his calloused fingers and palm as they rasped her skin. She made a tiny whimper as she ground against him, urging him on. Taking the sound as encouragement, he deepened the kiss, took more from her. Demanded more. She gave everything he asked of her, but took equally from him. Her body pulsed with need by the time he finally ended the kiss, the stiff stubble of his beard abrading her cheek as he withdrew.

  His gaze traced down her in a long slow path. “How long you been on the road?”

  Huh? Was that a backhanded way of saying she looked tired? Or that she needed a bath? She glanced down at her now dusty jeans and scuffed-up boots. You are so not sexy, Nik. Here she’d been fantasizing about them taking the leap from friends to lovers for months, and he’d chosen to kiss her socks off the night she resembled Rascal after he’d fought a knock-down-drag-out with the local raccoon.

  “I left Muncie last night as soon as we closed the deal.” The heat of the kiss bled away, replaced with the frustration she’d felt at seeing the conditions Bashir had endured. “You should have seen the place, Dillon. It was a disaster waiting to happen. There were old junkers and car parts in the middle of the pasture, and their horses were so freaking thin they wouldn’t have scored more than four on the Hennecke scale. I’ve a good mind to report them to the sheriff. I wished I could have taken all their horses.”

  “Hey, there’s only so much you can do.” He lifted his hand as if to cup her face but dropped it again. Yeah, he was already regretting kissing her.

  “I guess.”

  “You’ve been on the road a long time. You must be exhausted.”

  Not too exhausted for you.

  “I’m ready for bed, if that’s what you mean.”

  She wanted him to be in her bed beside her. On top of her. Inside her.

  She headed out of the barn, waiting for him before she closed the gate. “Do you want to come in? Have a beer or a soda or something?”

  Me?

  “You’re not too tired?” His eyes were hidden in the shadow of the brim of his hat, but his voice made promises that had her pussy throbbing.

  “Come on in for a while.” Stay tonight. Tomorrow. As long as you want. Ride me until I’m too exhausted to move, to think.

  He covered the distance between them before she could blink. His hand cradling the back of her head, he stared down at her. “You’re sure about this, Nik?”

  He had to ask? “I’m sure.”

  He strengthened his hold on her hair, tilting her head so he could feather kisses down her neck. At the same time his free hand cupped her ass as he ground his erection into her. She hooked one leg around his hip, and rocked against him, the pressure against her clit setting off a firestorm of sensation.

  “Not here, baby. Inside. Where we can take our time.”

  Despite her frustration at having to delay her gratification, she nodded.

  Lacing his fingers with hers, they walked toward the house, Dillon catching her when she stumbled over a rut. “Sure is dark back here. You need to install a motion-sensor light to cover this area.”

  “I have one. Phil must have turned it off.” She stopped and stared at the house, scanned the yard. That’s what was wrong. There were no lights on. Phil never turned off the lights. Even if he had, there’d be the flicker of the television on the walls since he usually fell asleep in front of it, leaving it running all night. So why was the hair on the back of her neck prickling?

  “What’s the matter?”

  She slowly shook her head. “I don’t know. It’s silly. You’ll probably think me nuts. Phil’s car’s gone, which means he’s out. He’s probably just turned off the lights, or maybe we’ve blown a fuse, but something just doesn’t feel right, you know?”

  His grip on her tightened as he guided her back to the cab of the truck. He retrieved a shotgun from behind the seat. “Gimme your keys. I’ll make sure there’s no one inside.”

  She rummaged in her bag and flipped through her keys, separating the front door key from the rest.

  He jammed it in his front pocket then tightened his grip on the gun. “Stay here.”

  She reached out, grabbed his hand before he could leave her. “Dillon, be careful.”

  With a smile, he covered her hand with his in a comforting gesture. “It’s probably nothing, but it doesn’t hurt to be careful. Right?”

  With that, he released her and slipped through the shadows to the front of the house. A minute later, light flooded out the living room window, spilling across the yard. Sh
e expected to see more lights turn on; instead, he re-appeared, hurrying toward her, his cell phone to his ear.

  Once he’d shoved his phone in his pocket, he wrenched open the truck door and growled, “Get in the truck.”

  “What’s wrong?” Her seatbelt had barely clicked into place before he’d started the engine and they were halfway down the lane. “Was someone there?”

  “I didn’t want to wait to find out.” His jaw tightened. “Sorry, Nik, but you’ve been robbed.”

  Chapter Two

  Even in the dark of the cab, he couldn’t mistake the way Nikki’s shoulders drew up danged near her ears, nor the way she hugged herself. Thank God her truck had died where it did.

  He hadn’t been lying when he said he would have pulled over to help no matter who had been standing there, but her comment about him wearing a black hat rankled. Here she thought he was being a nice guy driving her home, not realizing the whole time all he’d been thinking about was how to get in her pants. Not that he didn’t often fantasize about getting her under him, but he hadn’t wanted to push her before she was ready. Now she’d had some time to recover from the wounds left by her divorce, he’d decided to press his case a little stronger.

  The kiss had been totally unplanned, but once he’d started it and from the way she’d responded, he’d been unable to pull back. If his dick had any say, they’d have been doing one helluva lot more than kissing once he’d gotten her inside. Hell, if wishes were horses, he’d have been riding her all night long.

  Taking one hand off the wheel, he rubbed her shoulder, hoping to soothe her, but the tenseness of her muscles didn’t subside. “Hey, it’ll be all right. It’s just things. At least you weren’t there when they broke in.”

  Though he had a damned good idea that the person who’d taken her stuff hadn’t needed to break in.

  She didn’t turn to look at him, just continued staring back up at her house. The dim green glow from the dashboard highlighted her throat as she swallowed. “So why’d we take off like that? If everything’s gone, then they’re gone too. There were no other cars or trucks there, so it should have been safe. Shouldn’t it?”

  Once they reached the main road, he parked the truck so it wouldn’t block the driveway, but left the engine running. “I didn’t want to take the chance that whoever took your stuff might come back and find us there.”

  Or might have still been lying in wait, expecting her to come home alone. What if Phil hadn’t taken her stuff? What if she’d arrived earlier, while the bastards were still there? She could have been hurt. Raped. He clutched the steering wheel.

  Ten long minutes passed before they heard sirens wailing in the distance. Once the first patrol car pulled up beside the truck, Scowling, Dillon lowered his window. Damn it, why the hell wasn’t it Brett responding? This was his territory. “Hey, Tiny. Where’s Brett?”

  The deputy sheriff shrugged. “There’s a big pile-up on the interstate tying up most of the station. It’ll be a while from the sounds of the mess. So what we got here?”

  “Nik’s been robbed.”

  “She okay? They rough her up at all? She need an ambulance?”

  “No. She wasn’t there when they took her stuff.” Thank God for small miracles.

  “Then she’s been burgled, not robbed.”

  If he hadn’t been in the truck and Tiny in his car, he might have popped the deputy in the jaw. “Jesus H. Christ, Tiny. Robbed, burgled. Nik’s stuff is gone. What the fuck difference does it make?”

  “’Cause one’s right, and the other ain’t.” Tiny put his car into gear again. “You two stay here until I make sure the scene’s secure, ya hear?”

  His car had disappeared over the ridge just as two more units turned off the road. Their lights caromed off the trees and rocks as the cars muscled their way over the washed-out driveway. Less than five minutes later, one of Barnett County’s newest officers cruised back down the lane and stopped at the entrance, blocking anyone else from accessing the place. He swaggered over to Dillon’s side of the truck. “Tiny says for you to bring Ms. Kimball up to the house now.”

  Dillon turned the truck around and headed back up the laneway, parking beside the police cars. Lights blazed from every room in the house. Tiny stood on the porch, talking to two of his officers. “It’s all clear, folks. From the looks of the stuff they dumped out of the fridge, whoever did it is long gone.”

  Dillon didn’t know if he was pleased they’d missed them or pissed off that he didn’t have a chance to show the scumbuckets a little Texas justice.

  Tiny held up a hand to stop them once they reached the top step of the porch. “Ms. Kimball, before you go in, I need to ask you a few questions.”

  Dillon took her hand in his. The little squeeze she gave him in return wound its way into his chest and around his heart. Thank God he’d been running late and had been the one to stop to help her.

  Tiny flipped the page on his notebook. “When were you last here?”

  “I left just after seven on Wednesday morning.”

  “You mind tellin’ me where you went and why?”

  Though Dillon could sense her impatience, Nikki answered the questions about her trip to Indiana and about the horse she’d rescued. How they’d gotten him settled and cleaned out the barn before checking the house. About how she’d left Phil to look after the place. And how Phil’s car wasn’t parked out back in its usual spot. “We didn’t realize anything was wrong until I noticed all the lights were off. That’s when Dillon checked the house and discovered I’d been robbed, I mean burgled.”

  Tiny hmmed but didn’t say anything more, just continued jotting down notes.

  “When can I check my stuff? See what they’ve taken?”

  Tiny shot Dillon a why-the-fuck-do-I-have-to-be-the-one-to-break-the-bad-news, thanks-a-lot-dipshit look. “I’ve only got a few more questions, then we’ll be through. Now did you lock the door when you left? ’Cause there’s no sign of any damage to the lock or the door.”

  “Yes, but Phil was still here when I left. Maybe he left the door unlocked.”

  “The door was unlocked and partially open when I checked it,” Dillon added, pissed off he might be giving Phil a possible get-out-of-jail-free card.

  With a grunt, Tiny scratched something into his notebook. “You know where your brother is right now, Ms. Kimball?”

  Her shoulders slumped. “No.”

  “He got a cell phone you can call him on?”

  “Maybe. I left mine here. He may have borrowed it.”

  Dillon pulled out his phone and dialed the number Nikki dictated. A half minute later, he shoved it back in his pocket. “No answer. Can you track it?”

  “Could, I suppose.” Tiny looked doubtful. “I’ll get Sheriff Crawford to check with the judge but you’d probably have more success if you keep phoning—somebody’ll probably answer at some point.” He used his notebook to tilt his hat back. “Your brother been workin’ anywhere recently, Ms. Kimball?”

  “No, not many people are willing to hire a man with a record.” Plus Phil was a lazy-ass bastard who was content to let his sister do all the work while he sat on his butt.

  “If he left here, you have any idea where he might head? Maybe to your parents’ or some girlfriend’s or something?”

  “I don’t know. If he went home, it would be in violation of his parole.”

  Tiny hmmed again. “He got any friends with a truck who might’ve helped him?”

  “You think Phil did this? No.” She took a step backward. “No. Phil wouldn’t steal from me. I’m his sister. I took him in after…”

  She trailed off. Dillon could practically see the moment she did the math and realized X equaled her brother.

  “All right, you can go in now. We’re going to need you to tell us what’s missing.”

  Her grip tightened around Dillon’s fingers at her first glimpse of her living room. The only sign there’d been any furniture in the room were the dents in the carpet. A
silk flower arrangement she’d had on the coffee table had been flung into one corner. In the far corner, framed photos from the shelf unit now lay scattered over the floor, the glass smashed where someone had swept them off their shelves then stomped on them.

  The choked gasp that escaped her was like a dagger in Dillon’s chest. Though she hadn’t said much about it to him directly, he’d heard a lot of talk in town about how Wade had fought to take everything from her during the divorce. What few belongings she had left were hard earned. Now even they were gone.

  Right then and there he vowed if he ever saw Phil—he had no doubt it was her brother who had taken her belongings—he’d stuff her brother’s nuts in the mulcher and use them as fertilizer.

  Tiny tagged along behind them as they toured the house, writing furiously in his notebook as Nikki cataloged what was missing. The television, a DVD player, the sofa, love seat, coffee tables. The dining room table and chairs. Gaps accentuated where the fridge and stove should be standing, the contents of the fridge dumped on the counter, the vegetables from the crisper already wilted and flies buzzing over them.

  When they got to the tiny spare bedroom she used as an office, she cursed, her fingernails digging into Dillon’s hand. The woman sure had a good grip. He’d have to make sure his brother Matt never challenged her to an arm wrestling match. That boy’s ego would take a hit to be beaten by a woman, but he’d sure as shooting lose to Nikki as worked up as she was right now.

  “Look at this.” She waved a hand over the paper-covered floor. “He must have dumped everything out of my desk and the file cabinets. Do you know how long it’ll take me to sort this out?”

  Nikki freed herself from his hand. He and Tiny stayed in the doorway while she walked into her bedroom, her boots echoing over the scarred plank floor. She pivoted in place then stomped to the closet and wrenched open the door. “He even took my clothes. Why the fuck would he need them? Most of them are old anyway.”