by Mina Khan
“Something about her I can’t deny,” he hummed under his breath.
“What?”
“Ah, nothing.” He coughed into his hand. “I was just humming an old country song.”
“Oh.” She flashed him a grin.
Had she picked up on the words? He looked away.
“So, how long have you lived in the area?”
“My family’s been here for generations.” Jack took in the countryside. Mesquite trees, scrubby cedars and spiky cactus rushed by. “You aren’t from here are you?”
“That obvious, huh?”
He shrugged. “Yeah, but this is a small place. A new face sticks out.”
“I came up from Houston to visit Jen.” She uncrossed and crossed her legs.
Heat licked his body, making Jack squirm. “Jennifer Delgado? The artist?”
She leaned forward and narrowed her eyes at him. “How did you get to know her?”
Whoa. Did she give everybody the third degree or was he just special? He ran his tongue across his lips.
He could’ve said they’d met at a Fire Department meeting, which they did. Or he could have told her Jen was his renter, which she was. Maybe it was the tone of her questions, or maybe he just wanted to have some fun. “I rescued her.”
“Rescued her? From what?” Lynn sat straighter.
“She was out jogging and found herself surrounded by a pack of cougars.”
Lynn squinted at him. “There are cougars out here? They move in packs?”
His tongue seemed to have a life of its own around her. “This is the Wild West you know,” he said. “Yup. This is cougar country darlin’.”
“So what happened?”
“Well, I was out on my usual morning ride on my horse, Sundance,” he said, “when I heard an awful yowling. Cougars make this unearthly noise that makes your blood run cold.”
Glancing at her, he noticed Lynn’s eyes had widened with interest and her lips parted, revealing a flash of teeth. Sexy. Encouraged, Jack continued. “So I started shooting in the air and spurred Sundance. That helped scatter the cats a bit. Anyways, I just scooped Jen up, pulled her across the saddle, and got the hell out of there.”
Oh well, he was already so deep in bullshit he might as well go for a swan dive. “Then came the Indians.”
“Indians?”
“Sorry, Native Americans,” he amended. “Swinging tomahawks and letting out war whoops.”
“Just the kind to make your blood curdle, right?”
That made him smile. He caught her pointed stare from under arched eyebrows. Her lips twitched and laughter danced in her eyes. Jack gave Lynn his best shit-eating grin. “Sorry, I just couldn’t resist.”
She cracked up laughing.
Jack sucked in a breath as the sound filled the cab. A warm, heady feeling rushed to his heart. Lynn’s arms hung loose by her side, her head fell back, as laughter shook her, transformed her from attractive to heart-stopping. And he’d done it. He’d made her laugh and come alive.
“Good story,” she said when she’d stopped chortling.
Jack nodded his thanks and gave her the true version of meeting Jen. By the time he finished, they’d arrived at Herb’s Parts House, the John Deere dealership. He parked the pickup and opened his door. “I’ll leave the air on for you.”
“No, no, I’m coming along,” she said. “I’ve never been inside a parts house before.”
They walked in on the proprietor —she assumed Herb— visiting with some of the older farmers and ranchers in the area. Lynn inhaled the smell of sawdust and machine oil and turned toward the excited voices.
“So, this city slicker from San Antone stopped by and made me an offer for my land,” said one of the grizzly old men.
The others nodded.
“I says to him thanks but no thanks. You won’t believe what the young whippersnapper did then.”
“What did he do?” Herb asked from behind the counter.
“Why he looks me in the eye and says ‘you’ll regret this someday, Mr. Tavistock’.”
“An’ what did you do?” another man asked.
“Why I pulled out my shotgun and said ‘if you don’t get off my property, you’ll be having regrets a whole lot sooner, son’.”
A round of guffaws filled the room. Then Herb and the others noticed them and fell silent. Oooh boy. Jen had said people here tended to be suspicious of strangers…except none of them were looking at her. All the cold stares aimed for Jack.
His spine rigid, Jack stepped up to the counter. “Howdy y’all.”
“What can I help you with, Mr. Callaghan?” Polite laced with definite chill. Herb stood with his beefy arms folded above his beer belly. What was going on here?
As he entered into a discussion about plates, augers and nuts, Lynn browsed in the aisles looking at the 5-gallon oil cans, chainsaws and other equipment on the shelves. She kept her ears tuned. Herb promised to call around for the stripper parts, but expected it to take a couple of days. The old men whispered and she managed to catch only a few words. Callaghan. Trouble. Fires.
A tingle spread through Lynn. The dragon odor in the truck had been heady, but then she’d been smelling them everywhere in Paradise Valley. Here it was sharp and strong. Either her imagination had run amuck or there was something wrong with her nose. She tucked hair behind her ear and cocked her head toward the conversation. Stilled.
“Thanks. I’ll be expecting your call.” Jack’s strangled voice intruded. She turned in time to catch him tipping his hat to the men standing around. Some nodded back grim-faced. Others simply looked through him.
Lynn almost trotted to keep up with Jack’s long strides out of the store. Once they walked out into the sunlight, he slowed. A sigh escaped from him.
“Sounds like a stripper really is a machine. A troublesome one at that.”
“You got that right.” He grinned at her. “Come on, let’s get that tire fixed.”
They headed to an air pump located by the shop area. A comfortable silence settled between them while Jack worked on the tire. Lynn squatted next to him and watched.
“So, how’d you get that black eye?”
The air hose slipped out of his fingers. He grabbed it before it clattered to the ground. “Those Indians and strippers ganged up on me.”
Did the man never answer straight?
Chapter 5
The fool woman had ridden a horse to the damn rendezvous.
Sitting tall and straight on the pale Arabian, in her straw cowgirl hat, a crisp white shirt and blue jeans, against the backdrop of a lurid sunset, Kate Harrington portrayed the perfect picture of old money in the West.
The dragon master watched the ghost white gelding shift and snort among the weed-choked headstones and broken angels of the cemetery. She leaned forward, pressed her body close to the animal, and whispered. One hand caressed its neck. The horse settled. In one graceful move, she extended a long, lean leg out and over, and swung herself to the ground.
He stepped out from behind the cluster of live oaks.
Kate’s storm-blue eyes widened, then narrowed. Her face showed no other emotion.
“Wouldn’t it have been more practical to drive?”
She looped the reins loosely around a branch. “Wouldn’t it have been more practical to be an accountant than an arsonist?”
He smiled. “Touché.”
“And wouldn’t it have been more practical to meet in a restaurant than a forgotten cemetery?”
No. Too many damn eyes and ears. “You wanted a meeting, you got one. What’s the emergency?”
Her lips pressed into a prissy line. She took her own sweet time sashaying forward, stopped a foot away from him. “Your stupidity.”
The chaos of birds calling out to each other as they raced to their nests, settled into the trees for the night echoed in the air. He focused on the raucous calls and released a deep breath.
“Excuse me?”
“The first fire was a flop, a
nd the Jarvis fire wasn’t supposed to happen yet.”
“What’s it to you? The Jarvis house was damaged enough for your purposes.” The dragon master flexed his fingers, wanting to wrap them around her slim, white throat. “Just do your part and sweet talk them into selling the damn property.”
“Don’t worry about my part.” She huffed out a breath and folded her arms. “Do you seriously think people won’t wonder about two fires so close together?”
“You’re not my boss. I don’t owe you any explanation.”
“I didn’t choose to work with you either.”
“Give them back the money and get out of the deal.”
Her gaze flickered away as she paled. Adrenaline pumped through his veins.
“You’ve spent it, haven’t you?” He pushed closer into her space and ran a finger down the side of her face. Smelled her gardenia scent laced with sweaty fear. “You’re up to your neck in this shit, aren’t you?”
She jerked back. “You’re not my boss and I don’t owe you any explanation.”
The dragon master smirked. “Yeah, but I’m the guy they’ll sic on you if you don’t deliver.”
She shivered in the cool evening breeze.
He circled her. “I’m going to enjoy working with you.”
“Just don’t get in my way or get the cops too interested.” She pushed past him and strode to the horse at a fast clip. She presented a ram-rod straight back to him. Was she brave or stupid? Probably both. Bitch.
He watched her gallop away. And smiled.
Chapter 6
Lynn followed the mouth-watering smell of grilled meat and Jen’s off-key singing to the kitchen.
“Ah, the woman still lives,” Jen looked up with a grin as she chopped the cilantro for the pico de gallo.
“And she’s starving.” Lynn watched her mix the tomatoes, onions, jalapeno, and then the cilantro.
“It’s almost 8:30 at night, did you get the story written and sent?” She handed the pico to Lynn, then poured two glasses of water and placed them on the kitchen table, along with a plate of cheese quesadillas.
“Almost written.” Lynn dropped into the nearest chair and took a bite of the warm, spicy quesadilla and savored the ooey-gooey cheese and charred chicken. “Mmm, I’ve missed your cooking.”
“Just my cooking, huh?” Jen quirked a pierced eyebrow at her.
Lynn licked her lips and tore a paper towel off the roll on the table. “What else is there to miss?” She cut a glance at her friend. “Mizz Loca Latina.”
Jen snorted. “You’re one to talk, wasabi shrimp.”
Lynn choked on a laugh and had to wipe at her eyes. Oh how she missed this easy banter. She’d gone too long without talking to Jen.
“God, we were so immature.” Lynn took another bite of quesadilla.
“No, we knew how to be crazy and have fun.”
“Speaking of crazy…” Lynn told Jen about arming herself with the wine bottle.
“I’m glad you didn’t waste that wine on him.” Jen giggled. “All this is funnier because Jack is really a great guy. Speaking of wine, want some?”
Maybe a couple of glasses would help her unwind and forget the strange flutter that started beneath her breast bone and dove deep between her legs at the mention of Jack. “Great idea. I’ll take a glass or two or more.”
Jen arched an eyebrow. “And then you’ll hit the floor.”
The phone interrupted with loud rings. As Jen rushed to answer, Lynn searched for the bottle opener. She found it in the third drawer and turned waving it around in triumph. She stopped cold at Jen’s pursed lips and monosyllabic answers.
Lynn mouthed “Who is it?” She pointed at the phone for emphasis.
“Please hold,” Jen stabbed a button. Then holding the phone in one hand, she glared. “Rob, your very unhappy ex-fiancé.”
“Oh, shit.” Lynn dropped into a chair at the kitchen table. Tossing the opener next to the wine she grabbed the phone.
“What’s going on?” Jen asked.
“Let me deal with him first.” She sighed and hit the hold button. “I told you not to contact me. How did you get this number?”
“Your mother.”
Aaagggh. Her mother really needed to stop interfering in her life.
“Lynn what the hell is going on? Why’d you disappear without a word?”
“I left a note.”
“Oh yes, the note. Do you seriously think that cryptic message was adequate?”
Lynn held the phone away from her ear and waited until his voice died down.
“Yes. It had all the relevant details— the wedding is off and we no longer have a relationship.”
Jen’s eyes widened as she whispered, “You left a note?”
Lynn turned her back to her friend. “That’s the bottom line right there.”
“I think I deserve an explanation.”
What you deserve is a kick in the balls. Lynn closed her eyes. She wanted to throw Cyn in his face, but then he’d ask how she knew. Next, he’d ask about the fire. She swallowed.
“Lynn, I invested time and money in this relationship. Not to mention emotions.”
“Oh, please, go cry a river on our friendly neighborhood wedding planning slut.” The last bit ended in a growl.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means, I know about you and Cyn.” The words leapt out of her.
Silence on his end. “How?”
“That’s not important.”
“Wait, were you at my place the night of the fire? Did you have something to do with that?”
Keep breathing. She’d gone to Rob’s house that night intending to reveal her biggest secret. Her dragon had definitely come out, just not according to plan. “Oh, I know about the fire too,” Lynn said. “As for the cause, what did the fire department say?”
“Spontaneous combustion.”
Thank you, guardian angel. “Well, there you have it. Goodbye.”
“Wait babe, she came onto me.”
“And you couldn’t say no because...”
“We can’t cancel the wedding.” A string of muttered oaths followed. “I haven’t told Mother or anyone else in the family.”
“What? I broke up with you four months ago!”
“I know,” he said. “I thought you’d have calmed down by now.”
Lynn pinched the bridge of her nose and counted to ten. “I’m calm and I’m still not marrying you.”
“Come on, Lynn! How will I ever live this down?”
“I don’t care. I can’t marry you because you obviously don’t love me.”
“I do love you.” His voice dropped to a throaty, sexy whisper reminding her of too many shared intimate moments.
Hot tears pushed at the edges of her eyes.
“I-I got scared and I made a mistake.” He paused. “Please baby, let me make it up to you.”
“I’m sorry Rob, this isn’t something you can kiss and make better.” Lynn cut the phone off and shoved it back into its charger.
“OK, chica, spill the beans.”
Lynn groaned and turned. “I think I need wine and something unhealthy for that.”
Jen’s dark eyes focused on her. Without a word, she turned and dove under her kitchen sink. She pulled out a package of Extra-HOT Cheetos and put them on the table, uncorked the wine and filled the two glasses. “Emergency supplies are here. Now, talk.”
Lynn talked and sipped. The entire story —about how she’d caught Rob and their wedding planner boinking, turned dragon and then fried Cyndi’s Miata— spilled out.
Jen listened, tight-lipped and nodding. At the end, she cleared her throat. “I always thought your relationship happened a bit too fast. You should have broiled Cyn’s bare ass!”
Sighing, Lynn took a large gulp of wine and stared at the purpling sky. Flame orange clouds streaked the darkness, just like the dragon that churned inside her. “No, I should have just walked away. Instead I lost control. Just like I di
d with Dave.”
Jen set down her glass, walked around the kitchen table and pulled her into a hug. “Sweetie, they both deserved it. Especially Dave. He tried to rape me!” She shuddered. “I’m damn glad you were there.”
“Me too.” Lynn pushed her face into her friend’s shoulder, breathing in her warm, calming scent. Jen had found out about her dragon that night. “But there were two of us, we could have handled him without me turning into… into that beast.”
“You were scared.” Jen patted her back. “Damn, I was so scared that I froze. Your turning dragon pushed me to act.”
An image of Jen swinging the shovel flashed through Lynn’s mind, followed by Dave dropping like the sack of shit he’d been. A small giggle escaped her. “And when you act, boy do you act.”
Jen gently pushed Lynn away and looked into her eyes. “Yes, we all do what we need to do.”
Lynn fought back tears. “There’s more.” She closed her eyes and talked fast. “After the Rob and Cyn thing, after losing control, I had another breakdown.”
“Oh, that explains the MIA for the last few months.” Jen’s head drooped. “I’d already moved. I wasn’t there for you.”
Lynn grimaced. “You can’t always be taking care of me. Anyway, Doctor Mom came to the rescue again, even though I never told her the whole story.”
“I think the dragon side of your mom came out when your grandmother died,” Jen said. “She hardly let anyone near you.” She cleared her throat. “She didn’t even want to let me see you before I moved from Houston.”
“Yeah, she got a bit overprotective.” Lynn gnawed on her lip for a moment. “After Obaa-chan died, I had on and off visits from members of the North American Dragon Council.”
“Dragon Council?”
“It’s an oversight body, the members quietly keep track of dragon births, deaths and everything in between.”
“They sound like Big Brother.”
Lynn managed a half-hearted smile, one she didn’t really feel inside. “They questioned me over and over about her death.”