by Jane Jamison
“I’m glad to hear it.” Aunt Ruth stood up. “You go on and get settled in. Dinner won’t be long.”
Jane was relieved. Although she was sure her aunt hadn’t meant their talk to seem like an interrogation, it had put her on edge. “Okay. Thanks. Is there anything I can help you with? I’m not much of a cook, but I can cut up vegetables with the best of them.”
Her aunt laughed, turned her toward the one hallway, and then patted her on the butt. “Nope. You can start helping out tomorrow. Tonight, you’re our guest.”
Jane didn’t waste any time striding down the hallway. While her aunt and her uncles were nice enough, there was just something about them that was a little…sideways.
Was it the way they moved? Even Bob, as huge as he was, moved with a grace and ease she wouldn’t have thought possible. Gunther, too, despite his irascible nature, had an easy way about him. And what was with their eyes? At one point, she’d seen amber flecks in each of their eyes. Flecks that weren’t there a moment later.
I must be tired and seeing things.
Like the living room, her bedroom was filled with early eighties furnishings. But she didn’t mind since it was clean and uncluttered. The attached bathroom barely had enough room to turn around, but it would serve its purpose. An old style crocheted comforter covered the bed, calling to her weary body. Later, once she had a look around town, she’d enjoy slipping between the cool crisp sheets.
* * * *
Jane yanked at the stubborn weed. How the hell did I end up doing yard work?
She hadn’t taken her vacation days only to end up pulling weeds out of her aunt’s garden. And yet, there she was, wearing her worst pair of jeans, a stained T-shirt, and one of Aunt Ruth’s floppy hats. It was back-breaking work.
Last night hadn’t gone as planned. Instead of eating dinner with her family, and then walking to town to check out what, if any, night life existed, she’d spent the evening sitting on the couch between her two uncles. Her aunt had insisted she stay in and tell her everything about her life. That had been the real interrogation and had lasted until she’d finally begged off to get some sleep.
Did they always stay up so late? They were older. Weren’t they supposed to hit the sack early? Instead, they’d reminded her of the alley cats behind her apartment building who sat on the fence and yowled well into the late night hours.
I’ve got to get away even if it’s only into town.
She glanced around the edge of the house to see if her uncles were still in the backyard, busily building a new brick cookout grill. She could hear Gunther giving orders and Bob good-naturedly following them. If she were wearing nicer clothes, she could sneak off right then. Anything had to be better than hanging around doing chores all day. Helping out was one thing, and she was happy to lend a hand, but she had an awful feeling that if she didn’t try to get out of the house, her uncles would have her doing hard labor well into the afternoon.
Not a chance. If I can’t go somewhere today then I’ll go tonight. Even if I have to crawl out my bedroom window.
The roar of a pickup had Jane straightening to a standing position. Although the sun glared down on her making it hard to see, she could still make out the battered red pickup cruising down the street.
She squinted, her gaze falling on the handsome face of the man behind the wheel. Longish, blond hair ruffled in the wind. The man’s arm was hooked out the window in a carefree manner.
Her gaze slipped to the passenger. His hair was a light brown color and cut short, emphasizing the sharpness of his square jawline.
Suddenly, a craving hit her, pulsing the center between her legs. She recognized lust, but this was so much more. More intense. More urgent. More…everything.
Warmth that had nothing to do with the afternoon sun swamped her. The heat radiated outward, then did a quick loop to come rushing back, spinning her emotions into high gear. She wanted to shout at them, and then cry if they didn’t respond.
She was turned on, harder and faster than she’d ever been turned on before.
“Holy hell.”
Somehow she wasn’t surprised when the truck slammed to a stop. Both men jumped out and strode over to her. She stayed still, fearful of making any wrong move, afraid to even breathe too deeply.
“Hey, sugar, how’s it going?” The blond man’s silver-blue gaze latched onto her.
She felt herself drawn to him with every fiber of her being. One step, and then two were taken before she came to a halt.
“You shouldn’t be working in the yard.” The one with the short hair had incredible dark blue eyes. The look he gave her simmered with passion.
She swallowed hard and tried to regain the ability to speak.
“I’m Garron Warrick.” The blond motioned toward his smoldering friend. “This is my friend Eric Hall. Who are you?”
Did they notice how hard she was trying to get a word out? She cleared her throat and opened her mouth. Yet when Garron got even closer—she could smell his scent—her mind went haywire again.
“What’s the matter, baby? Cat got your tongue?” Eric stepped behind her, catching her between them.
Was she that type of girl? The kind a hot guy would call baby?
“I’m helping my aunt.” Shit. Could I have said anything lamer if I’d tried?
“Your aunt, huh?” Garron’s gaze slid to the house and back. “So Ruth McClarin’s your aunt? Are you related to her or to her mates?”
Her mates? Was that how they referred to men who shared the same woman?
“She’s my mother’s sister. She left home when she was young and found her way to Twisted on her way to Los Angeles to get into the movies. Then she never left.” Why had she blathered on? Jane closed her eyes and fought to keep from asking them to kiss her.
Closing her eyes only intensified the sensations ripping into her. A whirlwind of gigantic proportions spun inside her, putting her off balance. A sizzle of something passed between them, sparking a yearning that had no end. She opened her eyes and dragged in a breath.
“What’s your name, baby?” Eric’s whisper against her ear sent chills racing down her spine.
“Jane.” She was so relieved to have told them, she almost sighed.
Garron tilted his head. He moved his jaw side to side and narrowed his mesmerizing eyes. “Jane. I like it. Do you have a last name, Jane?”
“Smith.”
Garron leaned back and studied her. “Are you serious? Your name is really Jane Smith?”
She’d gotten the same reaction all her life. If her parents had named her Sondra or Belinda or anything besides Jane, it wouldn’t have been so bad.
“Yes. My name is really Jane Smith.” She made her hands into fists. If she didn’t, she’d grab Garron by the hair and jerk his mouth to hers.
“You’re really pretty, Jane Smith.” Eric skimmed his palms along her arms, sending yet another shiver through her. “Too pretty to spend your time pulling weeds.”
She wanted to tell him thanks. Hell, she wanted to thank him in an entirely sinful way.
“Where are you from, Jane Smith?”
Eric liked teasing her about her name. Would he like a different kind of tease?
“Atlanta.”
Eric’s grin was a heartbreaker, the kind young girls swooned for. “I thought I heard an accent.”
“How long are you here for?” Garron hooked his thumbs in his jeans, looking for all the world like a sexy movie star.
“A couple of weeks.” They were interrogating her like her aunt and uncles had, but she didn’t mind it coming from them. The more they knew about her, the better she’d like it.
“Then I guess we’ll have to move fast,” added Eric to Garron.
Fast for what? To get her into their bed? She clamped her teeth together, keeping down the urge to say she’d jump into bed with them right then. Although she wasn’t the type of girl who bed hopped, she couldn’t deny she wanted them. Hell, she needed them. If she’d been given a ch
oice of eating for the next week or having sex with them, she would’ve chosen the sex.
Eric leaned closer still, his nose in her hair. He drew in a long, slow breath.
Did he just sniff me?
And yet, she had the strangest desire to sniff him back. Their aroma was all around her. Not in the cloying way of aftershave, but with a clean scent filled with musk and an edge she couldn’t define. They had a rawness about them. An animal like awareness that made the nerve endings of her skin stand on end. Although they wore the typical standard of dress of T-shirts, worn jeans, and cowboy boots, they were so much more than just cowboys.
Garron caressed her cheek with the back of his fingers much the same way Gunther had caressed her aunt. Her heart picked up speed and pulsed in her ears.
If he leans over and kisses me, I’ll die a happy death.
Before she knew it, she was pursing her lips, getting ready. Please. Kiss me.
The laughter was in his eyes. “You want me to kiss you, don’t you, sugar?”
Her gaze went to his lips. If he already knew, why didn’t he just do it?
“Hey, hold up. Who says you get the first kiss?” Eric shoved his friend.
Garron pushed back. “Because I saw her first.”
“Doesn’t matter. Fuck off, man.” Eric came at his friend, pushing him toward their pickup.
She wanted to grab hold of them. To shake them. To make them pay attention to her and not get wrapped up in their boyish argument. “Stop it.”
They turned toward her, tilted their heads, and stared. Bits of amber burst into their eyes and she would’ve sworn they reminded her of her neighbor’s cat. All at once, the amber was gone.
“Don’t worry, sugar. It’s all just fun and games. Right, Eric?” Garron looped an arm around his friend’s neck in a good-natured choke hold.
“Yeah. But she’s right. Instead of joking around, we should be setting up a date.” Eric broke free. He was on her fast, leaning over her, his sultry blue eyes darkening.
They were at least six feet tall of lean bodies with wonderfully enticing muscles that just begged to be touched. Their shoulders stretched the limits of their shirts and the material tightened over their broad chests.
“A date?” She hadn’t come to Twisted to find a man, much less two. Then again, she’d never expected to meet two men like them.
“Yeah. Are you up for it?” A slight smile curved Garron’s mouth.
It wasn’t the most flattering way anyone had ever asked her out, but she didn’t give a damn. Still, she didn’t want to appear eager—even if she was. “Where would we go?”
“You mean where would we go in Twisted?” Eric’s laugh produced a twinge in her pussy.
“Sorry, but the town didn’t look like it had a lot of places to have fun.” It was the truth, but she didn’t want to insult them.
“You’re right,” agreed Garron. “We usually hang at Roar. It’s not much, but the beer’s cold.”
Wasn’t there a country song about cold beer and hot men? If not, she figured there should be.
“I’m not much of a beer drinker, but I’m willing to give it a try.” If her group of girlfriends ever saw her drinking a beer, they’d fall over laughing. She was strictly the wine or champagne kind of girl. Yet when in Rome, she’d act like a Roman.
“What do you like to drink, sugar?”
She loved the way Garron called her sugar. Like she was the sweetest flower in the world and he was the bumblebee. “I’m a champagne kind of girl.”
“Whoa.” Eric backed away from her as though she’d told him she had fleas. “You’ve got expensive tastes.”
Her body told her one thing, but her mind had finally snapped back into gear and was shouting at her to use the common sense she’d been born with. “Hey, when you’re worth it, you’re worth it. And I’m worth it.”
“She’s got you there, Eric.” Garron reached into his back pocket and pulled out his ringing phone. He winked and put the phone to his ear. “Talk.”
“So what about it, Jane? Want to see what the wild life in Twisted is really like?” Eric paced around her.
She glanced at Garron then tried to keep her attention on Eric as he circled around her. Why did he make her feel like she was being stalked by a predator? Not that she minded being his prey. She was about to answer Eric’s question when Garron ended the call.
“We’ve got to go.”
Her heart plummeted. The question “where?” was on her lips.
“Okay, man, just give me a minute.”
But Garron wouldn’t wait. Instead, he snagged Eric’s arm and tugged him toward the truck. She started to go after them before she realized what she was doing.
Garron slipped behind the steering wheel as Eric hurried to the passenger side. Garron lifted his hand. “See you at Roar, Jane Smith.”
In the next minute, the truck was flying down the road. A trail of dust drifted in the air behind it.
Jane placed her fingertips against her lips. Damn. I didn’t even get that kiss.
Chapter Two
Jane tried her best to talk herself out of going to Roar. Yet as soon as the sun had set, she was itching to get out of her aunt’s house.
“What’s going on with you, Janie? You seem antsier than a cat surrounded by a pack of wolves.”
She uncrossed then crossed her legs. “Don’t you mean a cat in a room full of rocking chairs?”
Aunt Ruth exchanged a quick look with Uncle Bob. “Not around here, sweetie.”
She wondered again at the comment, but let it pass. “Well, I was thinking about going to Roar.”
Three pairs of eyes turned toward her. Three pairs of eyes flecked with amber.
“How do you know about Roar, kiddo?”
She wouldn’t have let anyone other than Uncle Bob get away with calling her kiddo. From him, however, it felt like a term of endearment. “I noticed the place when Lena and I drove through town yesterday.”
It was only a half lie. She’d barely noticed the small hole-in-the-wall bar, but now that Eric and Garron were expecting her, she’d done her best to remember exactly where it was. Not that it would be hard to find any place in Twisted. All she had to do was start walking and she’d end up in the middle of the town.
“A girl your age shouldn’t be going into a bar at night by her lonesome.”
She smiled at Uncle Gunther. Her aunt had said it best. He was all hiss and no scratch. “I’m sure I’ll be fine, but thanks for worrying about me.”
He waved his hand in the air and made grumbling noises. As she’d expected, she’d embarrassed him by catching him showing concern for her.
“Worrying? Me? Hell, no.” He took a long swig from his bottle of beer. “Just doesn’t seem right. But suit yourself.”
“It’s fine, Janie.”
Aunt Ruth flipped through the channels, briefly landing on one before surfing to the next. Her aunt had done the same thing the night before, but since neither of her uncles had complained, she’d kept her mouth shut, too.
“So it’s not some biker bar or dive?” Would Eric and Garron go to those kinds of places?
“Nope. Roar’s your typical small town watering hole.” Her aunt paused in her channel surfing. “Is there a specific reason you want to go?”
She suddenly found the Food Network very interesting. “Nope. I just figured I’d soak in some of the local atmosphere.”
“Atmosphere, my ass.” Uncle Gunther snorted. “You’re hooking up with some guy, aren’t you?”
Damn it. How’d he know?
Aunt Ruth’s eyebrows shot up. “Is that right, Janie? Are you planning on meeting someone there?”
She hated lying to her aunt, but she couldn’t tell her. What if they knew the men and didn’t like them? After all, it was only for one night. Or maybe a few days. At most a couple of weeks. It wasn’t like she’d get serious with anyone.
“No.”
“Well, shoot, drinking alone’s no fun. How about we
all go with you?” Her aunt’s face radiated excitement. “It’ll be fun. Don’t you think so, Bob?”
“Damn straight it would be. I wouldn’t mind a little change of scenery, either. Maybe some of the boys will be there, too.”
Oh, hell, what did I do? “Uh, wow. Having you with me sounds great, but…” She trailed off, unsure of how to get out of the situation.
“It sounds great, but you don’t want three old cats hanging around, do you?” Aunt Ruth wiggled her eyebrows.
“No, no. It’s not that.”
Her aunt laughed at her attempt to be polite. “Don’t worry about it, sweetie. We understand. You’re young and want to go out and have a good time. Having us old farts around would just hold you back.”
“Dang, I was already looking forward to it.” Uncle Bob put on a fake pout, and then grinned when Jane took him seriously. “Nah, Janie, it’s fine. You go on and have a good time.”
“Thanks for understanding.” She figured she should get out while the getting was good. Standing, she smoothed down her shirt. “Should I change? Maybe put on a dress?”
The three of them chuckled. Her aunt regarded her for a long minute. “Are you sure you’re not expecting to see someone there? No, never mind. Sometimes I’m too curious for my own good.”
“To answer your question, kiddo, you’re dressed just fine. Roar’s not up to the standards of an Atlanta hot spot.”
Relieved that her aunt hadn’t pushed her any harder, she snatched up her pocket-size wallet and shoved it into the back of her jeans. “Oh, wait. Do I need a key? You know, in case I get in late? I wouldn’t want to have to wake you up.” Or have to answer a million questions.
“Shoot, no, sweetie. We don’t lock our doors in Twisted,” answered her aunt.
“Aren’t you afraid someone might steal something?”
“Why would anyone want to steal? If they need something, we’d give it to them.” Uncle Bob pointed at her jeans. “You don’t need to take your ID or any money, either. Just tell either Curtis, the owner, or Purdy, the bartender, to put it on my tab.”