by Reece Butler
Her stomach clenched. Her chest tightened, making it difficult to breathe.
The headline blared that Penelope Stark had returned from rehab. Sissy wore a hat, which hid her blonde hair. Once more, they looked close to identical. No, not quite, as Jane had gained at least twenty pounds. Her men said it went to all the best places. Not that that would make much different to those stalking her. She grabbed the counter as a wave of dizziness flowed over her. She had to get out of there, fast.
“You all right, ma’am?”
“Yes, thanks,” she croaked as she took her change from the clerk. She picked up her bag and turned to escape.
“It is her!”
She walked briskly toward the exit, trying not to seem as if she hurried. The double glass doors slid open and Travis stepped in. She almost shuddered in relief.
“Imagine that!” said the eager voice behind her. “Penelope Stark’s been hiding out right here in Port A!”
Travis’s long legs brought him to her in three steps. “What’s wrong? You look about to faint.”
“Did the drug rehab work, Penelope? Or are you still strung out, bless your heart?”
He looked past her, into the store. “Who are these women, Jane?”
When she didn’t respond someone tugged the back of her shirt. Jane shuddered. Travis moved, putting himself between them to force the woman to release her. Jane looked out the corners of her eyes. Her stalkers were a pair of old women, likely sisters.
“Who are you?” asked the one in yellow, peering up at Travis. “One of her boy toys?” She turned to her sister, clad in mint green. “Isn’t that what they call them, Frankie? Boy toys?”
“Let’s go,” whispered Jane.
But Travis crossed his arms. Muscles bulged from his tight T-shirt. Another twitched in his jaw as he clenched his teeth.
“I’m not a boy, ma’am, or a toy,” he said in his sexy, deep growl. “And I’d appreciate you leaving the lady alone.”
“Ooh, Hazel,” said the woman in mint-green, wide eyes eager, “he must be Penelope’s bodyguard.” She rattled the tabloid, thrusting it at Jane. “Sign this. The ladies at the RV park will be so impressed.”
Travis jerked the tabloid out of Frankie’s hands. He held it up, peering at the photo. Jane died a thousand deaths. She liked these men. A lot. But she was the exact opposite of what they wanted. No, it was Sissy, the person on the cover with her name, who was the opposite. But it didn’t matter. She’d be judged for her sister’s actions, just like before.
Paper crunched as Travis shoved it at Hazel. “Yeah, they look alike, but these women aren’t the same.” Travis gave that smile that made her melt. It did the same thing to the old women. “I can guarantee this woman’s not been in any drug rehab program.”
“But…but…they look identical!”
He wrapped an arm around Jane. “Maybe, but this little lady has been with me for the last few months.”
He steered her out the door and across the parking lot. She could barely put one foot in front of the other without staggering. He opened the door and practically lifted her in. She set the bag of groceries at her side and picked up Kitty, staring straight forward. The truck shook a bit when Travis climbed in. She waited, but he didn’t put the key in the ignition. She let out the air that had kept her buoyant the last few weeks.
Her time in paradise was over. Reality had intruded.
“That’s not me,” she said when she realized he was not going to speak.
“Penelope?” he said, ignoring her comment. He grimaced. “I had a whole list of names. Thought of Persephone, but not Penelope. Dang. Stark’s your last name?”
She nodded. There was no longer any need to hide. If he didn’t know what Sissy had done while calling herself Penelope, he would soon. She closed her eyes and let her head rest on the seat. She hadn’t realized Sissy regularly used her name and photo ID until too late. Penelope Stark would forever be portrayed as a wild, hard-drinking, partying slut. Sissy, however, was pure as the driven snow.
She would leave tonight, while they slept. She’d take one of the trucks into Corpus Christi via the causeway. She’d leave the pickup at the bus station, hiding the keys somewhere on the bed of the truck. She’d figure out where and put it in the note for them. If she didn’t leave, the tabloids would quickly find her, and Travis’s and Riley’s lives would be turned upside down. She couldn’t bear to think what her father would do when he found out she’d been living, and having sex with, a pair of Montana ranchers.
“I’m so sorry, Travis,” she blurted. “I’m not that person in the newspaper. I’m—”
“I know who you are, Jane.”
His words were gentle. That didn’t mean they wouldn’t hurt. She waited for the ax to fall.
“The woman I know interrupts her work to walk a yappy fluff ball who thinks she’s an Alsatian, because an old woman hurt her foot.”
She shrugged. “Bitsy doesn’t bark that much when I have her.”
A rough knuckle grazed her cheek. “And you’re the woman who drives me absolutely crazy. I can’t look at you, or even think about you, and not want you.”
She heard cloth rasp as he leaned closer. His scent swept over her. He brushed his lips over her cheek. One finger touched her jaw and turned her willing face toward him.
“Open your eyes and kiss me, Jane.”
His lips had barely touched hers, gentle but firm, when she heard a squeal. She pulled away.
“We’ve got to get out of here,” she cried. “Now!”
The two old women, followed by a few others, headed toward the truck, cell phones and cameras held high. Travis muttered something. He started the truck and pulled out of the parking lot. He went left instead of right, avoiding the golf cart trundling down the middle lane. Another turn and they were off the main road. She kept quiet as he maneuvered through the back streets. They came up Cotter and turned onto Highway 361 toward home.
A home that had been more welcoming than any place she’d ever been. A home she would have to abandon.
As usual, Travis rested the heel of his left palm on the steering wheel. His cowboy hat was low on his forehead and dark glasses obscured his eyes.
“You get that often?” he asked, as if passing time with idle talk.
“I’d hear the comments, but the guards kept them away.”
She looked out the side window. Her fingers sifted through Kitty’s soft fur. Port Aransas was so far from the world she knew. People here were real, not plastic. They talked with strangers they met on the beach, or in the local shops. They dressed as they chose, in jeans, T-shirts, and ball caps. They frequented small bars where their friends hung out. Their teeth might not be perfect, they had scars from working with their hands in hard jobs, and most were over forty. None of it mattered. They had a great time being who they were, rather than what others said was correct. And for a short time, she’d had the opportunity to enjoy that life.
She waited, but Travis didn’t ask anything more.
“That’s my younger sister, Sissy, they’re talking about. Not me,” she explained when her nerves couldn’t take the silence anymore.
“Figured that.”
“Do you know what they say I’ve done?”
“None of my business.”
She chewed at her lip. She could take that a couple of ways. Either he didn’t care because it was just something stuck in a so-called entertainment tabloid, or he didn’t care about her, Jane.
“What’s for supper?”
She whipped her head around. “Excuse me?”
“I know what we were expecting to do when we got home, but I figure you might not be up to it right now. So I was wondering whether I ruin my appetite with a few beers, or wait and fill up on some of that great food you make in that tiny kitchen.”
How could a man have someone take his photo with a woman said to be a slut, a photo which might already be posted on a tabloid site, and a few minutes later ask what she was going to c
ook? She held out her hands. Yes, they were shaking. How could she even think of cooking, much less do it? He was right about forgetting about sex. She had to dye her hair, pack her things, and escape.
Travis checked the traffic behind, then pulled onto the paved side of the road and slowed. A truck and two Harleys passed. The truck flashed its lights and the riders gave him a wave to thank him. He pulled back onto the road, still silent. She found her voice.
“What happened in the IGA doesn’t matter to you?” she asked.
He turned his head toward her. He didn’t look anywhere near as concerned as he should be. “Should it?”
“You realize the name of your ranch, and your town, is written on both sides of your truck? If someone took a picture of your license plate they could already be tracing it to see who you are. They might send someone to your town, or even your ranch, to question you about me.”
“Why would they do that?”
“Because people love scandal. They like to see the children of pompous, wealthy people act in horrid ways so that they feel superior.”
He frowned, ruminating as he drove. She’d hoped not to have to tell him, but life happened and she had to deal with whatever was thrown at her. “Did I mention how much my underage sister looks like me?” she continued when he didn’t speak. “Sissy took my ID and went clubbing. She wore sexy clothes Bertie didn’t know she had, got drunk, and flashed her naked lady bits at the photographers.”
“Naked lady bits?”
“Yes, what shouldn’t be seen—” She turned, catching his smirk. She smacked him in the chest with the back of her hand.
“Ow!”
Jane inhaled a gasp. “Oh, my, I hit you!” She turned in the seat to face him. “I’m so sorry! I’ve never done that before. I don’t know why I did that.”
“Because you were mad at me pulling your leg,” he replied. He still had a ghost of a smirk, but his eyes smiled with humor. “And, for once in your life, you didn’t have to think about what would happen. You just reacted, and smacked me.”
“I’m so sorry, I —”
“Thank you, Jane.”
She snapped her mouth shut on her apology. “You’re thanking me? For what?”
He took her fingers in his right hand and rubbed her knuckles with his thumb.
“I’m thanking you for trusting me. You feel comfortable enough with me that you can be yourself, knowing I won’t hurt you for it. And thank you for believing I care enough about you to let you be, well, Jane. Whoever that is.”
She blinked, stunned, as he lifted her hand. He nipped the tips of her fingers. She yanked them back. He held on for a second, then released her. She curled her hand and rested it in the other one as she looked out the passenger window. She’d hit him. Just swung her left arm out and smacked that hard chest of his. And he was happy about it!
“If it was Sissy who flashed her—” She glared at him, daring him to repeat her words. “Flashed her skirt too high, why are they after you?”
Jane inspected her fingernails. They were short, clipped close so she could work with her hands. Maybe if she found some cheap nail polish she could—
“Jane!”
“Fine!” She crossed her arms and glared at him. His eyes immediately dropped to her bosom. “Eyes on the road, Mr. Adams!” She waited until he looked forward before answering. “I explained why I was forced to plead guilty to what Sissy had done, so her future father-in-law would think she was innocent and chaste.”
“I remember. But you didn’t say anything about this.”
She couldn’t tell him she worried he’d attack her if he thought she was the type to lift her skirt to men. He’d take it as the insult it was. So she said nothing.
“You thought I’d do to you what your sister seemed to be asking for,” he said quietly.
“I didn’t know you then.”
“No, you didn’t, and you’d just been through a heck of a time.”
He reached for her hand again, giving it a quick, reassuring squeeze. He turned into their drive, slowing for the speed bump. He stopped the truck, released his seat belt, and turned his whole body to her.
“You saying anyone can see your sister’s pussy on the Internet?”
Her face flamed, but she held her head high and nodded.
“Why don’t people mind their own business?” He turned off the truck, grabbed the grocery bag, and climbed out.
“You’re not taking this seriously,” she said, scrambling after him. “You have no idea what Stark and Rankin can do to ruin your life. Why don’t you listen?”
He stopped so suddenly she banged into him. His arm automatically curled around to keep her steady. He leaned over until his mouth was right by her ear.
“I am listening, Jane,” he whispered, before nipping her earlobe.” His smirk grew into a boyish grin. “I heard you tell me their names. Good. Your sister doesn’t interest me.” The hand around her waist dropped to caress her bottom. “Not when I have the best right here. You think you might get in the mood to try on that sexy green corset Riley bought you? And those black stockings. Nothing else except heels and a smile.”
Chapter Thirty
As soon as Travis mentioned what happened, Riley powered up the laptop, eager to see if any photos had been posted. She asked him to search for “Penelope Stark Port Aransas.” A photo of the two of them kissing appeared. She squirmed at her expression.
“Dang, Trav, that’s hot,” said Riley, staring at the laptop screen. He turned to Jane. “Dayam, woman, I want a kiss like that.”
She hugged Kitty and fought back tears. “I have to leave,” she said, choking out the words. “Now.”
“It’s just a kiss,” said Travis, frowning at her. “Why would you care about a couple of tabloid photographers?”
“You don’t understand,” she wailed. “My father’s security people may already be on the way.”
Travis and Riley shared a look. Both puffed out their chests.
“We’ll keep you safe,” said Riley. He bared his teeth, cracking his knuckles eagerly. “No hired goon will get past me.”
“I know you mean well,” she said, trying to be diplomatic. “They won’t come alone. I don’t think you can hold off a Texas SWAT team. And even if you could, I don’t want you harmed.”
“A SWAT team? What the hell?” demanded Riley.
“I wasn’t supposed to leave Massachusetts, so I might have a warrant out on me. Bertie will tell the authorities you kidnapped me, and are holding me hostage.”
“Jane,” said Travis dryly, pointing at the computer screen. “You don’t look eager to escape that lip-lock.”
“Stockholm Syndrome,” she replied. “I’ve been with you for weeks and weeks. You’ve had time to brainwash me and bring me to the Dark Side. And you’ve seduced me.”
Knowing his daughter was touched by a mere cowboy would enrage her father, and the fiancé he’d arranged for her. Once Rankin learned she’d been eagerly sharing a bed with both Travis and Riley, he would be…She didn’t know a word strong enough to describe his reaction.
The question was, would he want to take his fury out on her hide, or would he refuse to touch her? If they put the blame all on her, perhaps Riley and Travis might be safe. No, her father would insist the Adams men had insulted him by touching what he considered his property. They’d be badly beaten at the very least. If they resisted arrest, they could go to a very nasty jail for a very long time.
She would not allow that to happen. She’d slink away, cut her hair all off, and become just like the bedraggled gray women who shuffled into the shelter. It wouldn’t be difficult. After realizing what life could be like, only to have all chance of it ripped away, she’d have that hopeless look.
“Don’t even think it, Jane,” warned Travis.
She startled at his harsh tone. “Think what?”
“You’re not running away, trying to protect us.”
“But, we can’t stay here, they’ll—”
/> “I’m taking you to Climax. Go pack.”
She shook her head, the words not getting through the fear telling her to run, fast, now!
“Jane, do what Travis ordered,” said Riley harshly.
Her jaw dropped. She’d never seen Riley this furious. She took a step backward. He screwed up his face, muttered something that sounded suspiciously like his favorite swear word, and exhaled.
“I’m not mad at you, Janey. I’m mad at those fuckers who turned the happy, sexy woman I saw an hour ago, into a frightened rabbit.”
He stepped close and wrapped his arms around her. As he gently squeezed, his masculine aroma engulfed her as much as his body. She inhaled and relaxed into him, storing the memory for the future.
“What are you going to do?” she asked quietly.
He pulled back his head to meet her eyes. They twinkled, but there was a menacing gleam in them as well.
“I am going to lead them on a merry chase, and if I can get them alone, I will beat the shi—”
“Rye!”
He glared at Travis’s interrupting. “The sugarplums out of them.”
“How?” she asked. He raised a sardonic eyebrow as he flexed his muscles. “Not that, I mean, how will you evade them?”
“I’m sure Bitsy’s mommy would love to put on your hat, sit in my truck, and pretend to be my girlfriend.”
“Mrs. Jacobs? Why would she help?” She tried to figure out what Riley meant, but her brain was not functioning.
“Janey, you have done so much for so many while you’ve been here. The office staff say you bring joy into the lives of these old folks like a ray of sunshine.” He caressed her cheek with his knuckle. “Damn near anyone in this condo development, including the groundskeepers and maintenance staff, would do anything to help you.” He winked. “They’d have a great time screwing up anyone trying to hurt you. Me and my girl will go for a long drive, maybe stop at Sonic for dinner. We’ll park my truck out back like normal, then come in. We’ll play Parcheesi for a few hours and then I’ll escort Mrs. Jacobs home. It’ll be a wild date night for her.”