Bounty (Hunted Love Book 2)

by Aden Lowe

  While Rita watched, the man turned toward the tables and glared at a couple in one of the small booths. The pair held hands over the table and talked, appearing lost in their own world. And Muscles continued to stare. Jilted ex? Jealous husband? No matter. Either way, he looked like trouble waiting to happen.

  She turned back to the bartender, who had moved to serve a patron at the bar. "Hey Ty, what caught your attention there?"

  Barely taller than Rita, Ty gave her his trademark dimpled smile, the one he used to assure female companionship whenever he wanted. "Just the stance at first, all silent and lone-wolf-ish in the middle of the party. A couple of really hot chicks played up to him, clearly on the make, and he shot them down straight off. That just doesn't happen often. Then I noticed he was paying real close attention to that one table." He gave a little half-shrug, one he'd practiced to perfection in order to emphasize his pecs and shoulders in the snug t-shirt. "Figured he needed watching."

  "You mention it to Georgie?" Georgia Simmons, a.k.a. Georgie, made up the entire Security staff for the Rattlesnake. Rita had found the former cop at the Merry Max, just over the river in Ohio, passed out drunk in her car while a low-life busily tore at her clothing in the process of robbing her and probably worse. Rita ran the jerk off and got Georgie to a safe spot to sober up, and won a friend for life.

  "Not yet, haven't had a chance. I've been slammed all evening. If the guy hadn't stayed in one spot and nursed the same beer, I'd never have even noticed him."

  Rita nodded. Beginning of the month was super busy for them. "Okay, thanks for pointing it out. I'll fill her in." With a friendly hand to Ty's shoulder, Rita slid behind him and made her way back through to the kitchen and smacked the nearly invisible button on the wall beside the corded phone.

  Tiny red lights would flash in all the various security stations. Wherever Georgie happened to be at the moment, she would spot the signal and make her way to the bar right away. In the meantime, Rita looked over the supply inventory list and started filling out the order for next week.

  Georgie finally arrived, green eyes flashing with annoyance. "People are fucking nosey, you know that? I like to never got off the cat-walk. Couple bitches trying to suss out why there's a Supply closet in the hall." She shook her head and impatiently pushed unruly blonde waves back. "What you needed?"

  Rita put the supply order back in the folder and tucked it in the wall rack she used for regular paperwork. "Come on." Over at the closed-circuit TV monitor, she switched between views until she found the camera behind the bar. "Right here, this uptight dude. He's watching a couple in a booth, and he's not a happy camper. I figure he's trouble waiting to happen."

  Georgie took a close look at the man on the screen. "Never did see that one here before. I'll set him straight."

  Rita smiled a little as she watched her friend walk away. People often underestimated Georgie. At five-three, her petite frame could hardly be considered a physical threat. The brain and skills she brought to the game were what ended up hurting people. Some kind of expert at martial arts, she had a real knack for kicking douchebag ass.

  A headache started to pound its way up the back of Rita's skull. Time to head upstairs and get some rest so she could get up in a few hours and start the whole thing over again. She took the time to stop and speak to the head cook for a minute. After a quick update, Rita let the woman know she was leaving for the night.

  Outside, the cool evening air felt good against the heat at the back of her neck. Even with her hair up, the kitchen always felt like a sauna. She started up the stairs that led up to her apartment, then gave in to temptation and dropped to sit on one about a quarter of the way up.

  The music thumped through the wall and made the stairs vibrate. The specter of that fairy-tale picket-fence life reared up in her mind. The woman who lived that life didn't go to sleep every night with her bed shaking to the beat of the music downstairs. For maybe a second, she almost wished she were that other woman living that other life.

  But then reality kicked back in. No matter what life her parents raised her to live, this was the one she was stuck with now. She was the one who gave up a full ride to college and married the hot-tempered bad-boy Jeremy. She'd become an expert at covering up bruises and black eyes, and she'd celebrated when he was sent up. And when he got shanked in prison and died? She was glad to be a widow.

  The light in the camper went off, bringing Falon Harris to mind. Was he turning in for the night? The little bed in there wouldn't be all that comfortable for a man his height. He'd be cramped, since there was nowhere for his feet to hang off the end of the bed. The image of his big frame sprawled on the short, narrow mattress imposed itself on her thoughts. What did he wear to sleep in? Man like him, it'd be a shame if he wore anything to bed.

  She shook her head in mild disgust with herself. What the hell was wrong with her? She couldn't afford to get fixated on a man like that. He'd said outright he never stayed in one place. That meant no future. At her age, she just didn't have time to waste on playing around. Besides, she'd had more than enough of that since Craig died. After the nightmare of Jeremy and his abuse, Craig had been a safe haven, but she couldn't count on another one like him coming along just out of the blue.

  ***

  Falon stood silent, watching. The louvered window of the camper meant he could observe without worry about being seen. It suited him fine. Rita didn't need to know he seemed to have some kind of obsession with her. No one could have that kind of ammunition against him. Once upon a time, he'd been open about his feelings and desires, but Chelsea had made him wise up pretty damn fast. She never missed an opportunity to use what she called his weaknesses against him. At the end, he'd vowed to never give anyone else that kind of power.

  But there he was, belly tight and breath short, ready to toss those promises he'd made himself out the window. Since he'd closed the camper door behind her, visions of that black hair spilling across his skin tormented him.

  Fuck, he needed to get control of himself. He had a job to do. Getting laid would have to wait. With Kellen, that kind of distraction could get him killed. He delivered a mental kick in the ass to the little voice that kept insisting his obsession with Rita was about more than just getting some tail.

  A noisy foursome came into view, crossing the parking lot toward an old car over at the edge. They finally crawled in and closed the doors, cutting off their laughter and loud voices.

  Falon almost sighed with relief. He had no patience for drunken carrying on. Waste of time. He turned back to Rita's stairs, where she still sat, apparently relaxing and enjoying the peace and relative quiet.

  Something caught her attention and she looked around, tension evident in the taut line of her back. A dark form rounded the corner of the building and approached the bottom of the stairs. Definitely male, with an arrogant swagger that promised either intoxicated aggression, or exaggerated threat.

  Considering the man's build, Falon figured it was Kellen, back to have another go at Rita. The Smith & Wesson .38 concealed inside his leather jacket welcomed Falon's grip. A quick, silent check of the loads assured him he could put a stop to any trouble Kellen started.

  Chapter Four

  Boot soles scuffed through the limestone at the back corner of the Rattlesnake where the gravel migrated from the parking lot had piled deeper next to the building. Walking quietly on the loosely packed stones was nearly impossible, making them an excellent alarm system, even with the constant thump of the music from inside.

  Rita remained still in the darkness, hoping to remain invisible to the passer-by. She had unforgivably put herself in a very dangerous position by taking a seat so low on the stairs to enjoy the cool evening. A predator couldn't ask for her to be more vulnerable than cornered on the staircase, too far up to jump over the side and run, and too low to make a run for the safety of her apartment at the top.

  The frame silhouetted against the security lights of the parking lot was familiar. Fuck. Kel
len. The very last person she needed to find her alone and in a vulnerable position. If he decided to press his advantage, she could scream all she wanted and no one would ever hear above the music and noise from inside.

  She tried to melt into the shadows at the side of the building. Hopefully he wouldn't see her. Her heart pounded and urged her to breathe harder and faster. She struggled to maintain control, to keep the need for more air from betraying both her whereabouts and her fear.

  Kellen paused and lit a cigarette, the lighter's flame sending a flare of light over the harsh angles of his face. He exhaled a cloud of smoke and looked directly toward her. "Hey there, Rita." His almost gentle tone disguised the threat he presented. He'd been nothing but gentle with her during their short affair, but afterward, his threats told of different intentions.

  Rita's hands curled into fists but she managed to hold her position and hopefully conceal her fear. "What do you want, Kellen?"

  The mouth she'd once thought delicious curved into a smile. "Why, Rita, you know what I want, baby."

  She shook her head, impatience replacing fear. "Look, Kellen, I told you. I'm not interested anymore. I told you at the time I wasn't looking for anything long-term."

  The tip of his cigarette glowed. "Oh, I remember. And I remember telling you I didn't want to marry you, I just wanted to fuck you. And I still do. And I remember how to make you scream my name."

  Fear returned to chase away the impatience. Rita took a deep breath and fought to keep her wits. Now she knew Kellen wasn't above taking by force. "I'm sorry, Kellen." A small flash of inspiration struck. "I had some health problems, so I have to be careful, you know?"

  Kellen's chin rose a little and he exhaled another cloud of smoke. "Health problems. I need to get tested?"

  "Might be a good idea. You never know." She pushed her luck a little. "You been tired a lot? Headaches? Loss of appetite?"

  A faint frown crossed his brow. "I have been awful tired."

  She nodded, pushing back the sense of triumph. "See? You better get checked."

  He turned and took a step, then turned back. "What do I ask them to test for?"

  Damn. She'd hoped the specter of an un-named blood-borne-illness would be enough. She scrambled for an answer. "Hep." That should do it.

  "How come you didn't tell me before?"

  Shit. Again, she searched for something plausible to say. "I didn't know for sure until a little while ago. Had to go through a bunch of tests." Hopefully that fit.

  Apparently it did, because he nodded. "Okay." He flipped the cigarette butt away. "I'll see you around." Kellen walked away.

  "Smart lady." The quiet words came from somewhere below and behind her.

  Alarm pounded through Rita's veins. "Who's there?"

  He stepped out of the pitch darkness under the staircase and came around to the side where she could see him as much as the limited light allowed. "Falon Harris. Sorry, I didn't mean to eavesdrop. I just saw him come around the corner and you here alone. After what happened inside, I didn't know what he might do."

  How much had he heard? Kellen's remark about making her scream his name? God, she hoped not. The possibility spread heat over her cheeks. "Well, thanks. I appreciate it." She stood. "I should get inside."

  He nodded. "Probably." He approached the bottom of the stairs. "Instead, come walk with me for a few minutes? No dark corners, I promise." He held one hand up toward her, as if offering to help her down.

  A different kind of heat spread. "How can I resist an offer like that?" Just a walk, nothing more. A short one, at that. At the bottom of the stairs, she accepted his hand, like some grand lady being helped down.

  He didn't release her hand right away, and turned to walk, drawing her to his side. He kept her hand, and Rita decided not to press the issue. His fingers felt good surrounding hers, substantial and strong, capable. He led her toward the side of the parking lot, in the dim illumination from the big security lights, keeping his strides matched to hers.

  "Tell me about Rita James?" His voice had changed a little, deeper, more intimate.

  Rita couldn't stop the smile. "What would you like to know?"

  He slowed their pace a little and turned to look down at her. "Hmm, I don't know. How did you come to own Rita's Rattlesnake? Did you have a lifelong goal to run a tavern?"

  "Well, when you put it that way… No, I never thought I'd do something like this for a living. I married my high school sweetheart, but he turned out to be a real jerk. A year later, he was in the penn and I got a job here. The owner was a really good guy and he took me under his wing. He's the one who put the camper back there, for me to stay in when I first started here. I had nowhere else to go. We got really close over time, but he died. He left me the Rattlesnake in his will. It took some time, but I turned it from a seedy little bar into a family restaurant by day, and a honkytonk by night." Damn, she had to learn when to shut it. "What about you? Tell me?"

  He chuckled a little. "Nothing interesting about me. I'm just a drifter."

  "Okay, you don't want to tell me, I'll make something up. Let's see…" She let her head drop back as if deep in thought. "I've got it. You grew up Amish, and rebelled. Since then, you've drifted around, searching for a place to settle down. But…" She paused and looked up at him, attempting to read his expression. "But, you have a hero complex and have to save damsels in distress. That makes enemies, so you have to keep moving."

  He laughed outright, the sound sending a little thrill down her belly. "You have one hell of an imagination, Rita James."

  The laugh spilled out before she could stop it. "Well, then tell me about the real Falon Harris."

  "Okay, okay." He took a deep breath. "It's not nearly as interesting. I joined the Army out of high school, did my stretch, got out. Along the way, I got married, and divorced. Now I stay on the move, work a little here and there when I need to, and never stay in one place very long."

  "Why?"

  "Why what?"

  "Why keep moving? Surely you must have family? Or maybe you've found a place you liked enough to stay a while?" The prospect of always traveling intrigued her a little. What would that be like? No real responsibilities, no obligations.

  He paused in a pool of light. "I have family, but none I care to stay around very long. And yeah, I've found some nice places, but the road always calls, and I have to go." He turned to face her. "The truth is, I've had a few experiences that just make it easier to keep moving." The corners of his mouth tightened, as if from physical pain. What could hurt someone that deeply?

  The urge came out of nowhere and her free hand rose of its own volition to touch his jaw. Beard stubble prickled her palm and he reached up to wrap his other hand around hers and slid it toward his mouth. For a second he closed his eyes, then opened them to look deliberately at her as he touched his lips to her fingertip.

  Heat blasted through her, threatening to consume her on the spot. The tip of his tongue flicked across the sensitive pad of her finger and air suddenly refused to move through her lungs. And all the while those blue eyes, nearly turquoise, blazed his intentions at her.

  "Rita, I'm not the forever kind." He moved to the next finger. "I can't give you more than a few nights." And the next.

  Boldness she'd never known she possessed voiced her opinion for her. "Good. That's all I want. But I do want that. With you."

  He groaned a little and took her finger between his teeth with gentle pressure. Her little sound of surprise made his eyes flare even brighter and he released her hands to drop his own to her waist and pull her against him. The thick ridge of his arousal slid against her belly and his fingers trailed sparks of heat up her spine, even through the fabric of her shirt.

  When he reached her neck, the fingers of one hand slipped into the back of her hair to cup her skull, while the other moved to her jaw. Gentle pressure tipped her head to meet his mouth as he claimed hers.

  Rita's hands splayed across his chest, tracing the firm contours through
his shirt. She could well imagine exploring all that masculinity with her mouth, tasting him and enjoying his torment with her teasing.

  Firm lips slid across hers in an exploratory caress. The tip of his tongue traced the edges of her mouth, then probed to part her lips. Damn, the man knew how to kiss. He tasted the inside of her lower lip, teasing the sensitive flesh with hints of the wondrous things to come.

  Her impatient whimper made him smile against her mouth before he deepened the kiss. His tongue slid across hers in an erotic touch that sent waves of want cascading through her. The hand at her jawline slid down her neck with firm pressure, and then back upward, light as a feather, the teasing touch drawing another whimper from her.

  He drew back just a little, his lips continuing to tug at hers. "You sure about this Rita?"

  "Yeah, I'm sure Falon. Really sure." Desperation came through loud and clear, but she didn't even mind.

  He smiled again, just a little. "Your place or mine?"

  Feeling playful, she drew back ask if to consider. "Mine, I think. Yes, definitely. My bed is more comfortable."

  A low laugh rumbled from him. "No doubt. Now what are we waiting for?"

  "Not a damn thing." Reluctant to step out of his embrace, Rita stayed close by his side. "Come on."

  He draped one arm over her shoulders and allowed his fingers to slip inside the neckline of her shirt. As they walked, wicked fingers explored the upper swell of her breasts. Her nipples hardened and her breasts tightened with anticipation, feeling heavy and swollen. If his kisses were any indication, she had an extremely satisfying night ahead.

  ***

  Chapter Five

  The scent of warm woman made him even harder as he drew Rita closer to his side and let her lead him to the back of the building. She moved ahead to the narrow stairs but he stayed close, one hand resting on the curve of her hip.