Playing With Fire

by Alison Bliss

  “You’re with that FBI guy?” Joe looked at Clay, then back to me. His jaw clenched as he grabbed my arm and pulled me toward him, whispering into my face with his beer breath. “You better keep your damn mouth shut, if you know what’s good for ya. If I find out you’re talking to him about us, then you’re going to see firsthand just how mean I can get.”

  I glanced down at his fingers clutching my skin, then made the mistake of trailing my gaze upward to the tattoo on his arm. A large red fire-breathing dragon covered the bulk of his bicep with its red tail wrapping the length of Joe’s forearm and ending at his wrist. Bright orange flames shot from its mouth.

  It only reminded me of their earlier intimidation tactics and made me wonder if I was the only neighbor the Barlow boys had threatened to burn out of her home. That’s when I remembered something. Cowboy had mentioned the Barlows getting into an argument with the chief the day of his death. Also, the fire chief and his wife had lived only half a mile up the road from my home next to the Barlows’ residence.

  Was it possible they were involved in the deaths of the chief and his wife? The thought terrified me, but I couldn’t verbalize my fear. The brothers would just feed on it.

  Not wanting to show how scared of him I truly was, I met Joe’s gaze directly and narrowed my eyes. “Let go of my arm.”

  He chuckled, not the least bit intimidated. “Who’s going to make me?”

  A rich male voice rang out from behind me. “Me, that’s who.”

  I didn’t recognize the voice.

  Flustered, my head jerked in his general direction, wanting to get a look at the bystander who was brave enough to step in and stand in my defense. With just three little words, he’d drawn the defining line between the Barlow brothers and me.

  The dark-haired man’s chiseled jaw was held tight and his arms were crossed, as if he were waiting for the idiot body builder to release me on command. Something I didn’t see happening anytime soon.

  “Why don’t you mind your own business, dickhead?” Joe told the man, waving him off with his free hand.

  The unknown man smirked at that. “I’m making this my business. Let go of her. Now.”

  “And if I don’t?”

  The man took a step forward just as Mandy Barlow walked over. “Hey, guys. What’s going on over here?” She took notice of Joe’s fingers wrapped around my arm. “Joe, you stop it right now, ya hear? If you don’t let her go this instant, I’m gonna call Momma and tell on you.” She glared at her other brother standing on the sidelines. “On both of you.”

  “Aw, Mandy, we’re just playing around,” Clay said. “We weren’t really gonna do nothing to her. Were we, Joe?”

  Joe smiled at me, but released my arm. “Of course not. Just talking to her, that’s all.”

  Mandy looked at me and smiled warmly. “Anna, right? You’re Cowboy’s friend?”

  I nodded silently, though I was pretty sure Cowboy and I weren’t friends after I’d slapped him in the middle of the dance floor.

  “I’m sorry. I’ll make sure these two don’t bother you anymore.” Mandy gestured to her brothers who were still in a stare-down with the stranger who had stepped in to rescue me. “Come on, fellas. Let’s leave Anna and her…uh, friend alone now. You two have caused enough trouble for one night. It’s time to go.”

  Clay grumbled under his breath as he followed Mandy toward the door. She stopped a few feet away, apparently realizing Joe hadn’t moved from his position. “Joe! I said it’s time to leave. Come on, or you’ll be walking home.”

  Joe slowly backed away from the dark-headed man, though they were both still eyeing each other. I breathed a sigh of relief as the Barlow clan disappeared out the front doors, then turned to the man standing beside me. “Thank you for stepping in. That was very sweet of you.”

  “No problem, ma’am.” He winked at me and offered his arm. “You seem a bit shaken up. How about I buy you a drink and show you the proper way a man should treat a lady?”

  I considered his offer carefully. He seemed like an okay guy, but the last thing I wanted to do was lead him to believe that a drink would turn into anything more. I wasn’t interested in pursuing a relationship—casual or otherwise—and was happy to go home alone.

  Okay, so maybe that was a lie. No one wanted to be alone. Not really. I’d spent a lot of time alone after my mother died and wouldn’t wish that kind of isolation on anyone. But the thought of taking off my clothes and bearing my soul to a complete stranger wasn’t very appealing, either.

  So maybe I did want some companionship, after all. Just not with him. Unfortunately, he was the only one offering me anything at the moment. I couldn’t very well say no without coming off rude, could I?

  Things had worked out in his favor with the brothers, but they easily could’ve taken a nasty turn if Mandy hadn’t stepped in when she did. The Barlow boys didn’t come off as deep thinkers so I doubted they’d have outsmarted this guy, but they definitely would’ve outnumbered him. The least I could do was have a drink with my rescuer.

  “Okay, sure. Let’s go get that drink.” I smiled and laced my arm through his, allowing him to lead me away.

  He ushered me to an isolated corner table at the back of the bar. I slid into a chair against the wall, expecting him to sit in the one across from me. Instead, he pulled it around and sat beside me, so close that his blue-jeaned leg rubbed against mine.

  Politely, I shuffled my chair over an inch and shifted my leg away from his, though there really wasn’t anywhere else to go. If his goal had been to corner me, then he had effectively carried it out. That alone made me a little antsy, but I tried to play it cool.

  As he flagged down a passing waitress, I gazed across the room and watched Cowboy take a seat at the bar with his back to me. He seemed oblivious to everything that had transpired moments ago between the Barlow boys and me. It only took me mere seconds to figure out why.

  A gaggle of gorgeous, skin-baring ladies flocked around him, smiling and giggling as he spoke to them. I rolled my eyes. No woman was safe. From what I’d heard, he damn sure had never considered any off-limits. That man should come with a disclaimer stamped across his forehead.

  Then I grinned, considering how his disclaimer would read.

  Warning: appendages of this virile male are under constant pressure. Prolonged exposure to him may result in rash behavior, absurdity, coarse language, doses of immaturity, and occasional fainting. This man may not be suitable for women of any age. Batteries not included…or needed.

  “You got something going with him, huh?”

  Startled, I tore my gaze from Cowboy and shifted it to the man sitting beside me. “Um, no, I…well, not exactly.”

  “Hmm. That’s too bad,” he said sarcastically. Then he stealthily slid his hand onto my thigh. He might as well have palmed a hand buzzer the way I jumped. “Whoa, calm down, honey. I won’t bite.” He shrugged his brows suggestively. “At least not unless you want me to.”

  “I’m sorry. I think you misunderstood my intentions. I’m not available.”

  He winked slyly at me. “Oh, I know, sweetheart. That’s what makes this so much fun.”

  Befuddled by his comment, I pushed his hand off my leg and started to stand. But before I could, he grabbed my wrist, pulled me forcefully against his chest, and locked his repulsive lips onto mine. He tasted of sour liquor and smelled like cigarette smoke, which made me want to gag. I pushed against him, but he wouldn’t let go. So I dug my nails into his bicep and bit him.

  Finally, he released me. The asshole.

  “There,” he said, taking a quick glance over my shoulder. “That should do the trick.” I raised my hand to slap him, but he stopped me by grabbing it before it made contact. “Hold up, sweet lips. We’re still waiting on the last party guest to arrive. Wouldn’t want to start the show without him. Don’t worry, though. He’s on his way.”

  He wore a smirk that reeked of trouble as he nodded across the bar in Cowboy’s direction. I ha
dn’t known this guy was manufacturing a scenario for Cowboy’s benefit. And after the way Cowboy had acted on the dance floor about Bubba Ray touching my arm, I didn’t have to turn to know exactly what I would see.

  Yet I did anyway.

  One very fired up country boy wearing a white Stetson shoved his way through the wall of onlookers. His eyes, blackened with intensity, reflected the colorful strobe lights as one hundred and fifty inquiring spectators followed his movements. The surrounding chatter dropped to a whisper before a hush fell over the crowd, as if his sullen, ominous mood stunned the audience into a muted trance.

  The indignant, disapproving expression on Cowboy’s face spoke volumes as to his mindset. Between that and the other man’s smugness over sampling my goods, this moment had all the elements of disaster. Hoping to petition Cowboy’s sensibility, I ejected myself from my seat, squeezed past the man at my table, and stood in front of the demon spawn who had fueled Cowboy’s anger with his outlandish shenanigans.

  “Move,” Cowboy ordered, the strength in his voice weakening my knees.

  But I lifted my chin, daring him to make me. “No. You’re not getting into a fight.”

  “Wanna bet?”

  “Stop it right now. You’re making a scene.”

  “I haven’t even begun to make a scene…yet.”

  The man behind me stood and came up beside me, leering at Cowboy. “Hey, bub. You’re trespassing. This is my side of the bar, remember?”

  “That’s because you’re poaching,” Cowboy said, glaring at him. “What do you do—cruise the bar, stalking our women, just waiting for a chance to make a move on them?”

  Our women?

  “What, are you jealous she chose me over you, dickhead?”

  Cowboy started for him, but I put my hand to his chest to stop him. “No fighting. I mean it.”

  “Anna,” he said, gritting his teeth. It was a one-word warning.

  The way he said my name irked me. As if there was some sort of prize element involved. With their heated glares and ready-to-charge postures, they looked like two territorial bulls in rut. The only thing left for them to do was the embarrassing scratching of their private areas.

  “This gentleman and I—”

  “Gentleman, my ass,” Bobbie Jo said as she pushed through the crowd. “What the hell did you do now, Jeremy?”

  Jeremy? Oh, good Lord.

  “He’s Jeremy?” I said meekly, keeping my eyes from meeting hers.

  Though I hadn’t thought it possible, the already tense atmosphere heightened to an even more uncomfortable level. Rooted in a long-time feud, these two men had some bad blood between them. Bobbie Jo had told me all about the rivalry between her boys and Jeremy, which happened to be the chauvinistic chameleon I was protecting. At least I finally managed to determine the cause of Cowboy’s extreme irritation.

  “Yeah, this is the asshole who broke my nose with a beer bottle last summer,” Cowboy sneered.

  I thought his nose looked slightly more crooked than when I last saw him at camp. Guess that explained it.

  Jeremy shook his head. “Why don’t you shut the fuck up and quit crying about it already.”

  “Why don’t you make me?” Cowboy said, pushing me aside and getting into Jeremy’s face.

  Taking prompt measures, I squeezed back in between them. “Guys, please. This situation doesn’t warrant a repeat of whatever happened last summer. Behave yourselves and act like grown-ups.”

  Jeremy chuckled behind me. “You always let a woman tell you what to do, Cowboy?”

  Hoping to throw a wrench into Jeremy’s plans, I turned to face him and poked him in the chest. “Stop goading him, you jerk. You’re just looking for a fight.”

  He grabbed my hand and lifted it to his mouth, nipping it lightly. “Actually, I’m more of a lover than a fighter.” His gaze roamed down to my breasts and he smirked. “Why don’t you come home with me tonight and find out for yourself?”

  Before I could even respond, Cowboy latched onto my arm and jerked me away from Jeremy. “I’m about a pecker hair away from kicking your ass, you sonofabitch.”

  Jeremy grinned wide and cracked his knuckles as four men at a nearby table stood up and joined him. “Let’s see it then.”

  Ox and Judd moved closer, stationing themselves behind Cowboy as Jake maneuvered Emily and Bobbie Jo behind him. When Cowboy tried to shift me behind him, I dug my heels into the floor. “Move out of the way,” he ordered. “I don’t want you to get caught up in this.”

  “The hell I will.” I shook his hand off my arm and turned back to Jeremy. “If you thought for one second that you ever had a chance with me, you’re crazy. No wonder Bobbie Jo is tired of putting up with you. You’re nothing more than a…a mooncalf.”

  Jeremy’s eyebrows squeezed together in puzzlement as he looked over at Cowboy. “What the fuck did she call me?”

  Cowboy shrugged. “Beats the hell out of me, but I don’t think it was a compliment.”

  “Dear Lord.” I shook my head in frustration. “I called you a mentally defective person.”

  “An idiot, in other words?” Jeremy asked.

  Several women, including Bobbie Jo, giggled nearby.

  Cowboy’s laugh caught my attention and I looked over my shoulder at him. “Why didn’t you just say that to begin with?” he asked.

  “What’s the difference? I can’t help it if this vile oaf doesn’t understand basic English.” I turned to walk away, but stopped beside Cowboy. “Unlike you, I don’t have to settle a dispute with fists. I know how to use my mouth effectively.”

  “I know how to use your mouth, too,” Jeremy said to my back. “Those pretty lips sure would make a great resting place for my dick.”

  In the blink of an eye, Cowboy launched himself at Jeremy, tackling him onto a nearby table that crashed to the ground beneath their weight. The two of them broke apart on impact, but that didn’t stop the squabble. They wrestled with each other, both trying to gain a foothold to return to a standing position. When Cowboy finally managed to shove Jeremy away, they jumped to their feet and the entire bar erupted into a madhouse.

  Women spread in every direction, scattering to avoid getting hit, while other men jumped into the fight and threw punches. I yelled for Cowboy to stop, but my words were drowned out by the ribald shouts of the men and terrified shrieks coming from the ladies.

  Stunned, I stood in place and watched Jeremy land a jab to Cowboy’s ribs that shoved him against the wooden banister of the dance floor. Reacting, Cowboy wheeled around and struck Jeremy with a well-aimed thrust of his boot and a punch to his chiseled jaw.

  The dramatically chaotic situation worsened as more men closed in. Shoved back through the crowd, I lost sight of the others. That’s when I realized I stood smack dab in the middle of something closely resembling a war zone without a single recognizable face in the bunch.

  A dizzying number of glass bottles, broken chairs, and bloody fists flew around me. And the men who weren’t fighting sure as hell weren’t helping the situation. They stood on the outskirts of the entanglement, taking bets and shouting encouragements to the soldiers in battle, as if they enjoyed the entertainment.

  Then I caught a glimpse of Cowboy swimming through the sea of people with his eyes focused solely on mine. He had a painful-looking bruise on his left cheek, a knot on his forehead, and a small cut over his right brow. Yet he kept a diligent watch on me as he swiftly and competently made his way toward me like his body was on autopilot.

  Once he made it to me, he didn’t waste any time sliding his arm around my waist and escorting me toward the side exit. As he pushed us through the crowd, he kept his body close to mine, insulating me from the splintering wood, shattering glass, and wild punches. Without a single word, he towed me out the door, through the parking lot, and lifted me into passenger seat of his truck.

  Relieved, I let out the breath I’d been holding in. Sanctuary, at last.

  As Cowboy maneuvered around the front
of the truck to the driver’s side, a horn sounded nearby. Jake, Emily, and Bobbie Jo were piled into the front seat of Jake’s truck and waved as they pulled out of the parking lot. I’d forgotten all about them when the fight broke out, but they’d apparently waited outside to make sure we’d made it out okay.

  We had, but the way Cowboy gave them a half-hearted, pissed-off wave and climbed silently into the driver’s seat led me to believe this wasn’t the shelter from the storm I’d originally thought. Not only was he pissed, but I had no doubt we were about to have an unavoidable discussion I wanted nothing more than to…well, avoid.

  Cowboy started the truck and peeled out onto the highway. His fingers held the steering wheel in a death grip as his dilated eyes fixed on the dark road, but he stayed silent the entire drive. If his strategy was to wait me out, it didn’t work. I wasn’t looking forward to talking to him. And at the rate of speed he was driving, maybe I wouldn’t have to.

  The small cut above his right eyebrow wasn’t bleeding, but the goose egg on his forehead and the large bruise on his left cheek were swelling more with every passing minute. I wanted to ask him if he was okay, but his white-knuckled grip on the steering wheel kept me from doing so.

  Within minutes, he slammed to a stop in front of my house, jerked open his door, and slid out. Guess our night wasn’t going to end quite as soon as I’d hoped. Still completely mute, he walked me to my front door and waited for me to unlock it. The moment I pushed it open, Cowboy said, “What’s your fucking problem?”

  I blinked at him. “My problem?” I asked, my tone littered with disbelief. “I’m not the one who started a riot in the bar.”

  “Yeah, well what the hell did you want me to do? Not only did that bastard put his filthy hands on you, but he also put his disgusting mouth on yours. Ya know, we call him ‘Germy’ for a fucking reason.” Cowboy exhaled a hard breath, as if to calm himself down. “You expect me to just walk away after how he treated you.”

  “Really, Cowboy,” I said, rolling my eyes. “How is it any different than the way you’ve treated me yourself?”