by Susan Stoker
Her stomach contracted. Crap, had she overdrawn again? She filled the coffeepot with water and poured it in. “Okay, give it to me straight. How much?”
“Around three thousand seven hundred and fifty dollars.”
She spun around and faced her friend. “There’s no fucking way I spent that much. Someone must have hacked my account.” Great, just what she needed now.
Lacey shook her head. “No, you’re not overdrawn. That’s how much more money is in your account versus what you wrote in your checkbook.”
“What? How?” She leaned against the counter, wishing the coffee was ready because her brain was definitely not working.
“That’s what I came here to find out. Where did the extra money come from?”
“I haven’t a clue. This makes no sense. When did this money appear?” Had she rubbed some old lamp and had her secret wish granted? No, any genie smart enough to grant wishes would have given her a thousand men, not a thousand dollars.
She pushed away the image of Hunter that flashed through her head.
Lacey pulled out a slip of paper with her neat handwriting. “They appeared on two different days this week. The first day had two deposits and the second had three. Two of the deposits were for over a thousand dollars each.”
The coffeemaker beeped it was ready and Adriana poured herself a cup. Taking a sip, she tried to make her brain work. She leaned back against the sink and faced Lacey. “Who would deposit money into my account? It’s not like I’ve been having sex for pay. Wouldn’t someone steal the money, not give it to me?”
Lacey’s brows lowered in worry. “I bet it was that photo site Kendra told me about.”
Beyond pissed off, she slammed her coffee mug down on the counter, sloshing hot coffee over her hand, but she didn’t care. “Fuckin-a! I didn’t set that up, so how could I get the money from it?”
Lacey’s eyes widened. “What if someone had your bank account number?”
That Lacey believed her lowered her anger back down to a simmer. “Now how could someone—” Lacey’s knowing look had her thinking. “Crap, my car. That’s why they broke into my car, to get my bank account number. They didn’t have to take anything. All they needed was to snap a photo and move on.”
Lacey looked like she was about to cry. “Kendra is going to hear of this eventually, even if I don’t tell her.”
Hell, her prospects looked so bleak, she didn’t think it mattered. “No, go ahead and tell her. I don’t want you to lose your job, too. Last Chance Ranch needs your income as well as Cole’s. I can’t put myself before all those horses you save.”
Lacey stood and came into the kitchen, her intention obvious. She wanted to give her a hug.
Adriana put her hands out in front of her. “No, I can’t deal with a hug right now. Just go back to work. I’ll figure this out.”
Lacey eyes revealed her hurt, but she nodded and stepped back. “Let me know if you discover anything.”
She snorted. “Yeah, will do.”
Lacey gave her one last sympathetic look and left.
“Fuck.” She lowered her head to the kitchen counter and closed her eyes. What had she done to deserve this? Who the hell was messing with her life? If she got her hands on them—
Adriana snapped her head up. “No more vacation.” Stalking into her bedroom, she pulled open the top drawer of her nightstand and pulled out her 357 Magnum. From now on, this baby would be with her no matter where she went. She was done being the victim.
An image of her mother’s unemotional eyes made her pause. The day her father was shot, the coyotes had taken her mother into the bedroom and raped her. As a child, she had no idea what they were doing, but her mother’s screams had kept her from finding out. However, they had motivated her to crawl out of her hiding place and across the bloody floor to her father’s body and pull his cell phone from his belt. Even then she knew the coyotes were bad men.
The lady’s voice on the other end of the phone when she called 9-1-1 had calmed her down. She’d crawled back into the cabinet that was supposed to contain an entertainment center, but they didn’t have one. She stayed there until the police arrived, the lady on the phone talking to her the whole time.
Nope, she was no one’s victim. Adding bullets to the gun, she rested it on the bed and dressed in a pair of jeans, tank top, and long sleeve button down. She tucked the gun into the back of her jeans, underneath the shirt.
Right now, she had no idea who was after her, but things could get pretty sticky, especially for Poker Flat. She stilled. The place had felt like home, probably because she’d been given one when she was hired.
Kendra had built the staff casitas because the resort was out in the middle of nowhere, the closest town fifteen miles away. Adriana didn’t want something to happen to Poker Flat just because someone had it out for her. She could move on to something else, somewhere else. But first she needed to make sure whoever was after her knew she was leaving.
There was one place she could go to be sure everyone in a thirty-mile radius knew. It was the biggest gossip spot in the area and they served great pizza too. After tying on a pair of strappy high heels, she grabbed her keys. Going to the Black Mustang bar would kill two birds with one stone. She could tell people she was leaving Poker Flat tomorrow for good and she could find a sex partner for her last night in town.
Her throat closed when she imagined Hunter’s reaction. He’d be pissed and probably go back to not saying anything to anyone. And his nightmares…
She swallowed hard and strode out her door. The man had done just fine before they’d had sex. He was a big boy. He’d live.
She caught a ride up to the garage with Andrew who was his usual polite self. Walking the resort in cowboy boots was one thing. Trying to do it in high heels was plain stupid.
“Thank you, Andy.” She kissed him on the cheek as he stopped the golf cart at the entrance to the garage. “If you want, when you get off work, come join me for pizza. I’ll be at the Black Mustang.”
He blushed as he tipped his hat. “Thank you.”
She laughed as she made her way to her car and got in. She’d bet a hundred dollars Andy didn’t show up. He was one of the good ones, except he worked at Poker Flat. Hmm, now that was a puzzle.
Pulling out of the garage, she turned her Camaro onto the dirt road. She had to keep the top up or all her papers and receipts would blow out, but what did that matter? She planned to leave anyway. As much as she would have enjoyed the feel of the wind in her hair, littering wasn’t her thing.
When she arrived at the bar, she found a parking space right in front of the horse trough. It was all for show, the building being less than twenty years old, but it was part of the atmosphere.
She’d had enough of cowboys for a while, but bikers, construction workers, landscapers, even other bartenders hung out at the Black Mustang. As she stepped out of the car, a cat call came from behind her and she turned and waved.
Now that put a smile on her face. Stepping inside, she scanned the room out of habit, immediately sizing up the possibilities. Three men played pool, four sat at the bar and two tables held a mix of men and women, but it was early yet.
She took a seat at the bar. “Hey, Cutter, I’ll take a beer.”
The man behind the bar grinned. “Haven’t seen you here in a while, Adriana. What’ve you been up to?”
While he poured her usual from the tap, she watched. “The typical stuff, sex, work, sex, sleep. Did I mention sex?”
He slapped a coaster down on the bar and plopped her mug on it. “No wonder we haven’t seen you.”
“Yeah.” She gave him a pout. “And you won’t be seeing me again. I’m moving on.”
Cutter tugged at the earring in his right ear. “Don’t that suck. Where you headed?”
She shrugged as she sipped the cold beer. The CO2 was off. Too much head on it. “I was thinking Southern California. I hear they have some great beach bars down there and everyone is in perfect sh
ape.”
The bartender gave her a disgusted look. “Yeah, because it’s all fake.”
She laughed. “So you don’t think I’ll fit in?”
He shook his head. “Not a chance. You should stay here.”
Another customer waved him over, and Cutter moved down the bar. She took another sip of beer. The man sitting one stool to the left of her turned. “You’re leaving town?”
She grinned. This was going to work beautifully.
*
Adriana stared at the shot of whiskey. She should have shut herself off three shots ago. Okay, eight shots ago, but Cutter was too busy chatting with his buds over the basketball game on television to notice the only way she was getting off her stool was to fall off.
Crap, just two weeks ago after a threesome of hunky males, she’d thought her life was as perfect as it could get. This week, it hit the skids and fell right over the cliff down into hell. What the fuck happened?
The Dom started her bad luck streak. It was all his fault. The crowning glory wasn’t the money. No, now she had more money to start her new life. The icing on the shit cake was Hunter. The man had spoiled her favorite part of life—sex.
Despite trying to get her body interested in almost every man, and a few women, who had walked into the bar in the last five hours, she felt nothing. She even let a guy feel up her ass while she shot pool and still, not even a twinge of excitement.
Hunter was a jerk for doing this to her. Her one pleasure in life. She picked up the shot, threw it back and plunked the shot glass back down on the bar. There was always alcohol. Maybe now her body might be interested.
She looked at the man sitting next to her. He wore a fire department t-shirt and his bulky arms were definitely drool-worthy. Maybe he knew Cole. She gave his body a complete inspection as he cheered for his team.
Nope, not even his tight ass did anything. She was so not screwed.
The bar door opened and a man came in wearing a black cowboy hat and black tee. Her body came alive within seconds until she saw the blue jeans, which had her glancing at his bearded face. All physical attraction fizzled. Fuck.
This was torture. She needed to go home to bed, but there was no way she could drive. She could probably coax any one of these hunks to drive her home in exchange for a little sex, but in her condition, she wouldn’t even be able to fake it.
She stuck her hand in her back pocket for her cellphone before remembering Kendra still had it. “Hey, Cutter, can I borrow your phone?”
He glanced her way. “Sure.” He looked back at the game then strode over. “Here you go. Did you want another shot?”
She grinned. “Of course.”
He handed her his phone then did a quick pour before returning to the game.
Crap, without her phone she didn’t have her numbers. There was no way she’d call the resort. Kendra or Wade would answer. She tried to get her brain to function. Whose number did she know?
Lacey.
Hah, she’d call Lacey. She glanced at the time on the phone. It was just after nine, Lacey would still be awake. It took her two tries, but she finally dialed the right number combination onto the screen.
“Hey, Lacey. Think you could give me a ride back to Poker Flat?”
“Adriana, is that you?”
“Of course it’s me. Who’d you think it was? Never mind. I need a ride. I’m drunk.”
“I can hear that. Where are you?” Lacey’s voice sounded way too concerned.
“The Black Mustang. They have great pizza here.” She did have pizza earlier and it was good. At least she thought it was.
“Okay, just sit tight.”
“Now that I can do. Don’t think I could get off this stool anyway.” She chuckled. It just seemed funny.
Lacey said goodbye and hung up.
Adriana stared at the phone a few minutes. She couldn’t remember if she was supposed to do something else. Shrugging, she put the phone on the bar and threw back the shot.
“Hey, Cutter, thanks for the phone.”
He nodded absently, but didn’t come over.
Oh well, so much for getting another shot. She eyed the firefighter guy again. Maybe he could bring her to Cole’s and then Lacey wouldn’t have to drive so far. No, that didn’t make sense.
When a commercial break came on, Cutter came back to retrieve his phone. “Do you need anything else?”
She eyed him speculatively. She’d always thought he was hot, so why not tonight? “Hmm, how about another shot and a kiss.”
Cutter smirked. “I think I can manage that.” Leaning over the bar, he wrapped his hand around her neck and pulled her toward him for a kiss.
Now maybe she’d feel something. Just as her lips were about to touch his, the shot glass flew across the bar and fell on the floor behind it.
“Ah shit.” Cutter let her go. “Hold that thought.”
As he cleaned up the mess, she twirled around on the stool and studied the rest of the bar. It was hopeless. There was no one of any interest. What the fuck would she do with the rest of her life? Sex made life worth living.
Cutter gave a sigh. “Okay, that’s all set.”
She twirled back around to face him but missed stopping and found herself looking at the rest of the place again. She laughed. “That didn’t work. Let me try again.” She pushed off against the stool’s legs and spun full circle again.
Maybe there were other fun things to do. She spun again, but this time Cutter reached across the bar and stopped her by grabbing the back of the stool. She stopped but her world kept spinning.
“Oh crap, I think I’m going to be sick.”
Cutter stepped back. “If you are, you better hit the ladies room or go outside.” He beat a hasty retreat.
Adriana held fast to the bar, taking deep breaths, trying to keep her stomach from coming up. She’d never been so drunk she’d vomited and she certainly didn’t plan to now. She stared at the cash register across from her and counted to one hundred.
Finally, her stomach calmed. She could order another shot, but that probably wasn’t a good idea. Maybe she should get some fresh air. She carefully swiveled around to face the door. She was trying to decide how to climb down from her stool when the door opened and another cowboy walked in.
He looked just like Hunter and her body responded. Finally.
The cowboy stalked toward her.
Crap, it was Hunter. “What are you doing here? Aren’t you working?”
He frowned at her. “Lacey said you needed a ride, but I saw your car parked outside.”
“That Benedict Arnie, she was supposed to get me so no one would know.”
His frown turned into a scowl. “Are you drunk?”
She rolled her eyes, but they stuck halfway around and she blinked. “Duh. That’s why I called for a ride.”
His mouth formed a straight line and his jaw became rigid. The little tic in his cheek she’d noticed when they had sex against her casita wall was back. Maybe he was turned on. Wanted to take advantage of her. She was all for that.
“Let’s go.” He grabbed hold of her hand and pulled her off the chair.
She stumbled, her high heels wobbling before she started to go down.
Hunter scooped her up in his arms before she hit. Crap, the guy’s reflexes were fast. She leaned her head back to yell at Cutter. “I’ll be back tomorrow to settle up.”
He nodded absently, his attention on the game.
Hunter took her outside and leaned her against a truck.
“Hmm, is this yours?” She held on to the truck bed to keep upright.
He backed away from her as if he couldn’t stand to touch her.
What the hell did she do? He’s the one who ruined sex for her.
Then he bent down and untied her strappy heels. She stepped onto the cool asphalt. “Oh that’s so much better.”
He silently threw the shoes in the backseat, but he made no move to open the door for her. Wasn’t a cowboy supposed to do that?
She looked at the handle. Could she make it over there without falling?
“What the fuck were you doing?” The cold tone of Hunter’s voice permeated her confusion.
She grinned. “What’s it look like I was doing? I was getting drunk.”
His jaw became more rigid, if that was possible. Could he actually speak with it locked like that? She just had to find out. “You ruined me.” She let go with one hand to point at the bar, but started to fall, so she grabbed on to the truck again. “Not one man or woman in there appealed to me. Sex was my life. Thanks to you, my interest in it is gone.”
Hunter took a menacing step toward her, crowding her against the truck, causing her knees to wobble. He didn’t say a word, but her whole body turned on, way on. She wanted him to take her right there on the ground. It was like he’d flipped a switch and every sexual impulse in her lit up.
He stood there, his jaw tight, her heart racing.
Then he turned away, fisting his hands. “You’re not worth it.”
His words were like a jug of cold water poured over her head. “You just figured that out?”
He didn’t look at her, but she felt the rage coming off him in waves and the image of him strangling the Dom with the whip had her anger changing to fear. This was the Hunter she’d depended on to protect her and now she was the bad guy, the enemy in his mind. Freak, she was in trouble.
She looked past his back to the door of the bar. Would they hear her screams? Would she have the chance to scream? Maybe now was a good time.
Hunter finally turned around and looked at her. His eyes glittered in the parking lot lights like moonlight off steel. “You could have killed someone.”
His voice was raspy as if he fought to stay in control.
She wanted to argue, but her instinct told her she needed to calm him down if she wanted to make it out of this alive. She lowered her head. “I know. That’s why I called for a ride.”
He didn’t acknowledge her statement. “Killed someone innocent. Someone anxious to see me.”
Huh? Her brain was too fuzzy to make sense. What was he talking about?
One of his fisted hands came up, but his gaze was past her. “Eighteen months. We were apart eighteen months and thirty-two minutes before we saw each other again, and he hit her with his semi. That drunk crushed her.”