The Junkyard Cowboy (Tall, Hot & Texan Book 3)

by Christie Craig

“Don’t push her,” Bethany said. “You see that forehead wrinkle? When she has that, you don’t pry. She’ll tell us in her own time. She always does.”

  Savanna rubbed her forehead. “Is it too early for margaritas?”

  “This must be serious,” Jennifer said.

  Savanna slumped back in her chair. “If I get drunk, will one of you drive me home?”

  “Of course we will,” Bethany said. “You did it for me when I got my divorce.”

  “Fine.” Savanna motioned at Leonardo again.

  He offered her a fluttery wave as if to say he’d be over shortly.

  “Okay.” Jennifer looked at Mandy, who was now working for a manufacturing business. Mandy, blond and pretty, had cut her hair short to downplay her femininity because of her job. “Finish what you were saying about turtle doves.”

  Mandy sat up and continued, “Well, each department was asked to choose one of the twelve days of Christmas to decorate our department. Mr. Pancy, my boss, wanted to go with the Nine Ladies Dancing. The guy’s such a pervert he considered hiring nine strippers. I argued that the doves would be the best choice. I mean, who doesn’t love doves? They are beautiful, make cooing noises, and did you know they’re monogamous?”

  “Monogamous?” Savanna asked.

  “Yeah. Isn’t that romantic?” Mandy answered.

  “Please,” Savanna said. “You can’t tell me that there’s not a male dove somewhere who thinks he has bigger beak, and isn’t strutting his stuff in front of some younger, hot-looking dove and saying, ‘Hey baby, come to my nest and let me ruffle your feathers while my wife is off taking care of her sick mama!’”

  “So it’s about Clint?” Bethany looked back at Mandy. “Told you she’d tell us.”

  “But I thought you said you didn’t love him anymore.” Mandy sounded concerned.

  “I don’t love him!” Savanna snapped. “He used the title of the Honda to get a loan, and didn’t pay it. I’m soaking in the tub with my blue mask on when a wrecker driver dressed like Santa pulls up and starts hooking up my car to take it away.”

  “You didn’t get the title turned over to your name after the divorce?” Bethany asked.

  Savanna shook her head. “I know I was supposed to. It was on my list to do, but—”

  “Don’t beat yourself up,” Jennifer said. “Grief screws you up.” Jennifer who’d lost her mom when she was sixteen was still grief stricken. But then again, Savanna could understand. Losing your mom sucked.

  “I can’t believe Clint did that!” Bethany seethed.

  “I can,” Mandy added.

  “I told that asshole what would happen if he messed with you again!” Vengeance, the kind she used in the courtroom, tightened Bethany’s tone.

  Savanna rested her palm on Bethany’s hand. “It’s not your fault.” Because Clint was Bethany’s cousin, and the one who’d introduced them, Bethany felt responsible. “I married the jerk. You even warned me.”

  “Give me the information and I’ll look into it,” Bethany said. “I swear, I’ll chew his ass up one side and down the other in court! He’ll pay for this.”

  Savanna reached into her purse and pulled out the paperwork. “Here’s everything Santa gave me.”

  Bethany looked at the paperwork. “Is the guy’s last name really Claus?” She grabbed her phone and dialed a number. “Mr. Claus,” she said,” this is Bethany Carver. I’m Savanna Edwards’ lawyer. Can you tell me . . .”

  “Only five more days till Christmas. ” Leonardo popped over to the table. “Have you beautiful bitches decided what you want for Christmas yet?”

  “I want a body lift,” Jennifer said.

  “Your body is tight,” Leonardo said.

  Mandy huffed. “I want my new boyfriend to stop lighting up his farts.”

  Bethany, still talking to Santa, held up her hand. All eyes went to Savanna. “I want my ex dead with a ribbon tied around his pecker!” She frowned when she realized she’d said it too loud. Laughter filled the restaurant.

  “Sorry.” Savanna looked up at the waiter and Bethany moving away from the table. “Can I have a margarita?”

  Leonardo chuckled. “Honey, you don’t have to explain. I’ve had more than one guy break my heart, too. Men can be evil creatures. But we still love ’em, don’t we?”

  Right then, Bethany returned. “Okay, I’ve officially started working on the case.” She frowned. “Unfortunately, I can’t promise how long it will take or even if I can get your car back. It’s already been turned over to Title Mama.”

  “What are you going to do about a car?” Jennifer asked.

  Savanna let out a gulp of air. “I guess I’ll have to use the money from the life insurance.”

  “She’d want you to use it,” Bethany said.

  “I know, it’s just . . .” Tears filled her eyes. “I’m sorry. It’s been over a year, and I should so be over this.”

  Jennifer leaned closer. “You don’t just get over your mom dying. Plus you lost your mom and your marriage the same day. That’s a double whammy.”

  Savanna took a deep breath. “I thought I was over the whole Clint thing and . . .” She shook her head. “I am over him. I don’t love him. I’m just mad. And . . . using the money doesn’t feel right.”

  “Have you been to her gravesite and talked to her like I told you to?” Jennifer asked.

  “No.” Savanna’s lips trembled.

  Bethany leaned her shoulder into Savanna’s. “Your mom had the insurance for ten years. It was to take care of you. You shouldn’t feel guilty.”

  “I know that here,” Savanna pointed to her head. “I just don’t know it here.” She put a hand over her heart.

  “Maybe this will help!” the deep, slightly accented voice said. “It’s on the house.” Juan, the owner of the restaurant, a tall, dark and gorgeous man, set a frozen margarita in front of her. “You know, Savanna, there is nothing I wouldn’t do for you.” He smiled. “Maybe not kill your ex and tie a ribbon around a certain body part, but I would hire it to be done if you wanted me to.”

  They all laughed, Savanna included. Juan had asked her out a while back, but Savanna had told him she wasn’t ready to date. Sadly, it wasn’t altogether true. She was ready, or close to it, just not with him.

  “I’d do it for her,” Bethany said. “And I’d tie that ribbon in a tight bow!”

  “Remind me never to make you mad,” Juan said and grinned at Bethany.

  They all laughed again and the pressure in Savanna’s chest lightened. Nothing like being with her friends. And even knowing a handsome guy was interested made her feel . . . Well, it boosted her ego, but unfortunately her ego was the only part of her the hot Latin guy affected. He was like looking at a piece of calorie-laden dessert with fancy frosting. One that she didn’t particularly like all that much. It was pretty to look at it, but didn’t tempt her.

  When Juan left, Jennifer crossed her hands over her chest. “I think you should come to Vegas with us. Forget about this and let’s go have fun.”

  Savanna shook her head. “I can’t. Especially now.”

  “I told you I’d spot you a loan until you decide to use the money,” Bethany said.

  “No,” Savanna said.

  Bethany’s gaze shifted to the bar. She leaned in and whispered. “Okay, stay home and go out with Juan. Seriously, I’d date him for his butt alone.”

  “We’d probably get free food and margaritas,” Mandy said.

  “He’s hot,” Jennifer said. “And that voice . . . I could come just listening to him talk.”

  Savanna spoke low. “I just don’t feel the spark.”

  “Divorce impairs your sparking abilities,” Bethany said. “Sometimes it takes being recharged.” She glanced back to the bar. “And Juan looks like he has recharging potential.”

  “Oh, my sparking abilities are working.” Savanna sipped her margarita, remembering how good her neighbor had looked. “I went to my neighbor begging for help this morning. You know, the g
ood looking blond, green-eyed cop I told you about. Well, even during a crisis, I was sparking all over the place. The guy answered the door without a shirt on and he looked like he walked off a magazine ad. I thought six packs like his were air brushed. But nope.”

  “Wait,” Mandy said. “He’s a cop but he didn’t stop Santa from stealing your car?”

  “I said he had nice abs, not that he was nice. He looked at the guy’s paperwork and didn’t do a damn thing.”

  “In his defense,” Bethany said, “he couldn’t do anything if the paperwork was in order. But I’m glad you said he was there. If I need a witness that you told the guy it was your car, he’ll do just fine.”

  “I’m not sure he’d testify for me. Really, he was . . . almost a jerk. He could’ve at least pretended to be sympathetic.”

  “The good-looking ones are assholes,” Mandy said. “Look at Clint.”

  Savanna frowned. “Please, don’t give Clint an easy out. He’s not even that good looking.”

  “I don’t think Clint’s hot at all,” Bethany said.

  “That’s because he’s your cousin,” Mandy said. “He’s just a good-looking asshole,” she said with surprising conviction.

  Bethany’s phone rang. She looked at her screen. “Hmm, it’s Santa again.”

  “Tell him all I want for Christmas is my car back,” Savanna said.

  Chapter Two

  “What are you doing here?”

  Mark looked up from his desk at his partner, Jake Baldwin, propped against the doorjamb. “I could ask you the same question. What? Did Macy already kick your ass out?” His gaze went back to the computer as the information filled the screen. “I told you she was too good for you.”

  “Only because you wanted her for yourself,” Jake shot back.

  “If I really wanted her, I’d have taken her,” Mark teased then refocused on the screen.

  “How’s that? I’m better looking than you, and your bank account wouldn’t have impressed her.”

  “And that’s why I liked her,” Mark muttered in humor, as he continued to read. Besides a couple of outstanding speeding tickets, the cops had gone to the guy’s house on a domestic violence call last month. The girlfriend, an Amanda Adams, had refused to press charges.

  “I swear, you make being rich sound so hard,” Jake said.

  “It’s being rich and so damn good looking that’s tough,” he said and leaned back in his chair. “Where is your better half?”

  “At a baby shower.” Jake walked in and leaned against Mark’s desk. “I went by your house to see if you wanted to shoot some hoops. When you weren’t there I thought I’d come here and catch up on some paperwork.”

  “You should’ve called,” Mark said.

  “I was hoping you had a hot date and I didn’t want to interfere.” Jake gazed at the computer. “What’s this about?”

  “Just looking into something for a neighbor.”

  “Savanna?”

  Mark eyed him. “How do you know—?”

  “I stopped by your house a couple weeks ago and you weren’t there. She was mowing her lawn. We struck up a conversation.”

  Mark’s mind went to the time he’d watched her mow the lawn. It’d been right after they’d both moved in . . . over the summer. She’d been wearing shorts and a bathing suit top. He’d gotten a beer and sat by the window to enjoy the view.

  He glanced up at Jake. “You’re married.”

  “I talked to her, I didn’t ask her out. I even hinted she should meet you.”

  Mark frowned. “You told her I’m a cop. You’re the reason she came banging on my door!”

  “Excuse me for sending a pretty woman your way.”

  “She’s my neighbor,” Mark said.

  “So?”

  “You don’t shit in your own backyard.”

  “What?” Jake laughed.

  “It’s a comparison. You know, like you don’t get your meat the same—”

  “Got it. Believe it or not, even without a master’s degree, I’ve heard of idioms, but what I don’t get is why you’re equating sex with shitting. No wonder you don’t get lucky very often. And when you do, they don’t hang around.”

  Mark stared up at his partner having a little more fun than he should. Not that it was a surprise. Giving each other hell was what they did. “Since when is my getting lucky any of your business?”

  “Since you get grumpy when you don’t get any.” Jake looked back at the screen. “So who’s Clint Edwards?”

  “Savanna’s ex.” Mark frowned. “She had her car repoed this morning. She said her ex used the title illegally to get a loan and he hasn’t been making payments.”

  “Sounds like a nice guy.”

  “Yeah.”

  “So you and her . . .” He held out his hands. “Are you . . . you know?”

  “No, she just came over this morning hoping I’d save her car from Santa.”

  “Santa?”

  Mark frowned. “The wrecker driver was dressed up like Santa.”

  “Ouch. That would make it sting more.”

  “Yeah,” Mark said.

  “So you’re going to look into it for her?”

  “No, I was just . . .”

  “Looking into it.”

  “Yeah, but she admits that the title was still in her husband’s name. I can’t do crap.”

  Jake’s brow pinched. “Then why are you even checking?”

  “I don’t think she was pleased with me when I couldn’t stop it.”

  “Oh, hell, you gave her the Donaldson ‘tude, didn’t you?”

  “I don’t have a ‘tude.” But he knew it was a lie. His upbringing had left residuals on his outlook.

  “Yeah, you do. You act like a dick. Then you realize your rich brat persona is coming out, and you feel bad and you go overboard trying to be nice. It’s how you operate.” Jake crossed his arms over his chest. “I’ll bet you’ve already apologized.”

  Mark frowned. “No.” He’d been planning to when he saw a car rental place pick her up. Then when she’d driven back home, he’d gone to get dressed, but she’d left before he’d stepped out.

  But there was always tonight.

  • • •

  The cold had Savanna pulling her coat closer around herself, but she continued to talk. She wasn’t sure how long she’d been here, an hour, two, long enough for her butt to go numb, but it felt right. Not the numb butt, but the talking.

  “I know it’s crazy, but it feels like if I use the money I’m saying that I’m okay with you dying. And it’s not okay. I don’t want your money, Mom. I want you. Fifty was too damn young.” Savanna brushed the tears back.

  She’d ended up hanging out the entire day and evening with Bethany and Jennifer. Then Mandy came over later and Savanna drove them to the airport.

  She’d started home after that, but she remembered Jennifer’s question. Have you been to her gravesite and talked to her like I told you to?

  She hadn’t. Hadn’t come back since the funeral . She blamed it on being busy at the flower shop, blamed it on having to deal with the divorce. Blamed it on the fact that the cemetery was an hour and a half away. But tonight the truth clawed at her conscience. She hadn’t come because it was easier to pretend it hadn’t happened. Sure, she missed her mom like the devil, but missing her wasn’t the same as accepting she’d never see her again, that they’d never spend an afternoon drinking tea and talking about their next mother/daughter vacation. She’d never spend an entire day shopping for the craziest Christmas mug, or look forward to seeing what kind of mug her mom would get her.

  This next year they were supposed to go to New Orleans, tour the old homes, hit a few casinos, drink café lattés and eat tons of beignets.

  There would be no beignets.

  So instead of going home, she’d driven to the cemetery. One of the gates had been locked but she found the side gate open. The moon provided just enough light for Savanna to see her way to the back of the tree-laden ceme
tery. It should have been scary, surrounded by graves and huge trees with Spanish moss dangling from them like in some scary movie. But it wasn’t. Maybe because she didn’t believe in ghosts, if so her mom would have come back, or maybe because Savanna really wanted to talk to her mom.

  So sitting in the cold, dark graveyard, the moon’s silvery glow the only light, she told her mom she’d been right about Clint not being the right guy for her. Though she wasn’t sure he was anyone’s right guy. She told her about Santa stealing her car, and for some reason she told her about the rude, shirtless, great-abs neighbor. As time slid by, she finally told her mom goodbye . . . for the first time. It hurt like hell, she cried. Well, more like she wept. But it was cathartic.

  As she got up to call it a night, the moon suddenly got lost behind a cloud. The dark got darker. The wind whispered through the graveyard. And then she heard it. A shuffling noise right behind her. Her heart stopped and she swung around.

  Chapter Three

  Mark stayed up late catching up on his Netflix. After he showered, he’d headed to bed when he heard a car crank its engine. Wearing nothing but a towel, he went to his bedroom window. His eyes went straight to Savanna Edward’s driveway. A pair of taillights rolled past Savanna’s house as if they might have just pulled away from her curb, but it wasn’t the rental car he’d seen her drive away in earlier.

  He went to bed, but for some reason instantly recalled the peek he’d gotten beneath Savanna’s housecoat. But damn, he had to stop obsessing over her. He owed her an apology and planned to give her a number to a lawyer he knew accepted pro bono cases. Obviously, if her car being impounded was a big deal, she couldn’t afford a lawyer. But after that, he’d retreat back into his cave, and secretly have his fantasies about her.

  He didn’t need to shit in his own . . . dropping back into bed, he raked a hand over his face. Jake was right. That was a bad comparison, but the point remained. He didn’t need to start a relationship with a neighbor. It could get messy. He didn’t do messy.

  He just walked away. Or they did.

  I don’t want to be married to a cop. Robyn’s words whispered through his head.