Gunslinger

by Angi Morgan

  Then they danced for real. A tempo that was faster than a waltz. What did someone call a dance that grew to a crashing crescendo? It didn’t matter.

  Kylie felt alive. In fact, she felt everywhere. The tips of her fingers and toes were electric. There was a buzzing in her ears as the world was blocked out and Bryce spun her out of control. And spun her again until he joined her.

  The exhaustion was just like they’d danced the night away.

  They lay tangled in each other’s arms and legs. She was getting self-conscious and was moving to grab the sheet when Bryce’s hand landed on her left breast. His fingers gently caressed the far side and the bullet’s path.

  “You survived, Kylie,” he said into her shoulder. “There’s nothing ugly in that.”

  Bryce was well on the way to another nap. Definitely a nap. She’d let him rest for a moment before she reached for that second package and let him twirl her on their private dance floor again.

  The music was still playing downstairs. She heard it while trying not to cry at his simple, beautiful words. Trying not to fall in love with him a little more than she already was.

  * * *

  BRYCE WASN’T USED to eight hours of sleep. Hell, he wasn’t used to six hours of sound sleep. The closer the Tenoreno murder trial had gotten, there’d rarely been a reason not to work late, or travel, or bring work home with him.

  He was awake with the dawn and strategically getting out of bed without disturbing Kylie. He pulled on swimming trunks and did something rare. He swam laps. Short ones because the pool wasn’t designed for that sort of thing, but laps nevertheless.

  And during his time in the water he only had time to think. He cared about Kylie and didn’t want her to return to Hico. There wasn’t any logical reason for her not to. He knew she wouldn’t stay away. How could he expect her to agree when all of her friends were going to such extremes setting the trap?

  Yeah, she was the bait. But was bait necessary for this fishing expedition? He was an idiot for blabbing the plan before thinking it all the way through. He started the coffeemaker and grabbed a shower downstairs just in case she was still asleep.

  There’d been no hesitation making love to him a second time. No hiding on her side or behind a bra. Just wanton sexual satisfaction for them both.

  Was it? Not for him.

  He didn’t just care about Kylie helping with his plan. He cared about her. But he’d already known that.

  “Good morning.” She practically sang the words through a smile he hadn’t seen since she’d told the kids he was buying pizza. “I smelled that coffee while I was in the shower. Is it strong?”

  “Strong enough.”

  “As in standing a spoon in the cup and I should use some milk? Or is it actually drinkable?”

  “Milk.”

  She opened cabinets like he had the first time after his mom had the place redone. Logically looking for coffee cups, closest to the coffeemaker. “Are you grumpy first thing every morning?”

  “Not usually. I’ve been thinking.” And thinking. And thinking.

  She paused with the coffee carafe midair. “Trying to think of a reason for me not to be a part of your trap, I suppose.”

  “Yep.”

  “There’s only one thing that will keep me out of Hico. Call the whole thing off.” She poured two cups, then milk into one.

  “I’ve weighed that option. If I call it off, you’ll never be safe. But there is a chance if we go through with the Hico plan. It’s up to you whether we take it.” He was so mixed-up about what she should do. Had his mind shut down because they’d made love? He honestly didn’t know which was better for her. Each plan carried its own set of risks. He didn’t like either of them.

  “I knew there was something I liked about you.”

  She set the cups down and was close enough for him to snag then pull into his lap. He didn’t have to think long on whether to thoroughly kiss her. “Good morning.” Man, oh man, he loved her lips.

  “So there’s a couple of things I like.” She winked.

  “Nothing I can say to change your mind? I’m not exaggerating about how dangerous it is.”

  “You were very clear about that when you were explaining and reminding me how close we came to being shot last weekend. I watched your eyes when the realization hit you that someone might get hurt. It’s dangerous for everyone. Even you.” She reached for the coffee, changed her mind and kissed him instead. “I know you’ll take every precaution. You’re moving everyone from the houses around mine, hoping that limits the people involved.”

  “Someone might get hurt anyway.”

  “Yes, that’s true.” She looked as if she drifted into a memory.

  “I haven’t forgotten your friends in Austin. And I haven’t forgotten that your mother-in-law and her friend were assassinated. That’s six people in your life who have already died.”

  “Just don’t let the next one be you.” She tapped him on the tip of his nose and smiled softly. “I don’t know if I can handle that.”

  The debate he’d been having with himself turned into full-blown doubt. How could he have expected her to face their unknown opponent? She wasn’t a professional. She hadn’t even asked for his help.

  Yet, here she was accepting his plan of action as the only choice she had. She moved to a chair and sipped at her coffee.

  “I want you to know that it took all my willpower to let you get some rest this morning instead of making love to you again.” He picked up his mug. “Pretty much still true.”

  “We’ll have more time together after this is finished. Want some eggs or do we need to get on the road? Have you talked to Fred?”

  “You believe that, right? You’re not just saying we’ll have more time because it sounds good?” He had a moment of panic that if all things didn’t go well, she’d disappear again. She was already good at it and this time she had a town full of reasons.

  “Don’t you believe it?”

  “Well, yeah. But I’m the kind of guy that knows what he wants and goes after it.” And when all was said and done...he wanted her.

  “So am I what you want, Ranger Johnson? Or am I an assignment you need to finish? Maybe you should think about that before you answer.”

  He didn’t need to think. Realizing that she needed to wait, well, that was okay. He could handle that she needed time. A lot had happened in the past week.

  A lot more would happen in the next couple of days.

  “How do you like your eggs? I noticed you have some biscuits, too. Those are the two things I can make with confidence. Besides tea, lemonade and sangria.” She pushed back from the table. “It’s a solid plan. I’m glad you came up with it. And knowing Fred like I do, there’s no telling what he would have done otherwise.”

  “I’ll give Fred a call and make sure everything’s set. Cook whatever you want. We’re not in a rush.”

  “Famous last words.” She gathered her items.

  He retrieved his phone, but planned to call Fred on speaker so Kylie could hear. Fred would want to know she was all right. Biscuits were in the oven and she cracked eggs in the bowl. He walked in just in time to catch her fishing out a piece of eggshell.

  “Don’t laugh at me.”

  “Oh, I’m not. I’m a terrible cook. If you use a larger piece of the shell, you can scoop it out faster for some reason. Learned that after crunching my own eggs a couple of times.”

  She used half the eggshell and started whipping the eggs. “Good tip. Where did you learn that? In fact, I hardly know anything about you.”

  “You know all the important things.”

  “Right.” She nodded her head with an all-knowing smile. “You don’t care what your house looks like. You don’t like sunscreen, burn and then tan. You have a pool you rarely use. You know how to chop wood. And you’re pretty good in bed. Did I miss anything?”

  He laughed with her.

  “I have four nephews I like a lot. I was raised on a ranch about thre
e hours west of here.”

  “Really? A ranch with horses and cows, those sorts of things?”

  “Yes.” He looked toward the eggs, trying to get her attention without jumping up to mix them around the hot pan. She had a list of questions, genuinely excited about visiting a ranch. He lifted a finger pointing to the stove. It didn’t work.

  “Do your parents still live there?”

  If the eggs she scrambled were a burned mess, he’d eat every bite. He admired her effort for trying. He remembered his mom’s one or two tries at cooking. She and Kylie would have at least one thing to talk about. Now all he had to do was tell her she’d be meeting them that afternoon.

  “I guess you’ll find out soon enough,” he answered.

  Were they hiding their anxiety about luring the shooters into the open by talking about his family? Did he care as long as she remained relaxed and calm?

  “Oh, you mean providing we survive this adventure and live to start the next.” She finally scrambled the egg mixture in the pan.

  “Well, sort of.” He checked his text messages. His dad expected them around two and said that the ranch was guest free. “I think those biscuits might be done. Did you set a timer?”

  “I didn’t see one.” She left the pan, pulling drawers open to find a pot holder.

  “Want some help?”

  “No. Go ahead and call Fred.” She waved the oven mitt over the very dark brown biscuits.

  “I think I’ll wait till after breakfast.” And I’m sure the house hasn’t burned to a crisp.

  “What are your parents like?”

  He shrugged, wanting to jump up and pull the pan from the burner. “Normal, I guess.” He stayed put because he’d never seen Kylie so relaxed.

  “Am I being too nosy asking why you let your mother hire a decorator? Why would they want to spend all that money on something you don’t really like?”

  “Shoot, it’s worse than that. She spent my money.”

  “I thought you said you worked for the Texas DPS Highway Patrol before joining the Rangers.”

  “I did.” He slurped his coffee watching the real question form in her eyes. She wanted to know how he could afford it. “My family’s business is, let’s say, a successful one.”

  “Well, that’s good. Hopefully you don’t have to worry about it while you’re working here.”

  No worries at all. She’d find out that money wasn’t an issue when she met his parents that afternoon. It would be safer to hang out there, surrounded by all his dad’s security. Bryce intended on taking her yesterday before he’d been distracted in the pool. And other things.

  Something was different about her... It was right in front of him. He could see the skin on her arms. She wasn’t wearing a long-sleeve shirt. His heart did a backflip. He couldn’t make a big deal about it. He wanted to, but his instincts told him no.

  He also wanted to destroy the person who had marred her with that scar. Wanted to put them away where they couldn’t hurt or kill anyone again. His gut told him that was a strong possibility.

  But not now. Today was meet-the-parents day and he didn’t know if Kylie was ready for Cheryl and Blackhat Johnson.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Kylie loved the drive to the ranch. They hadn’t been silent because of tension or arguing. Just the opposite. She’d spent most of the ride asking questions about her new phone. They listened to one of his songs and then she’d skip forward until she found one she liked. Bryce looked casual behind the wheel, but there was a layer of tension she assumed was because they had to be on guard.

  When they arrived at the gate, the guard on duty recognized Bryce and waved him through. Kylie stiffened in her seat, finally feeling the tension obviously flowing from Bryce.

  “This isn’t a big deal, right?” she asked. “I mean...there’s not going to be twenty questions or anything about how we met? No misunderstanding why I’m here?”

  “I explained everything to my dad already and he said we could stay in the guesthouse. It might just be meals?” Bryce shrugged not really committing or answering her question.

  They got out of the truck and he tangled their lips together in a deep kiss. It would have lasted longer, but they were interrupted by someone clearing his throat.

  “Want me to come back later?”

  “Dad!”

  “That would be me. Who’s this?”

  Bryce turned back to her, bringing her close to his side. “Kylie Scott, this is my dad, Blackhat Johnson.”

  “Pleased to meet you and have you here at the Rockin’ J. Cheryl is going to flip when she sees you. Come on to the main house.”

  “You did tell her that we want to stay in the guesthouse?”

  “Sure thing. Why wouldn’t I?” He shrugged shoulders just as broad as his son’s. “Course, she’s not standing for that. Main house or the barn. Yeah, I think that’s what she said.”

  “Dad.” Bryce stretched the word into three syllables like a kid.

  A striking woman almost as tall as Kylie ran across the yard and threw herself into Bryce’s arms. She kissed his check with a loud, artificial smack and then pushed him away. It took a few seconds for it to register that it must be Bryce’s mother.

  “You’re such a bad kid to stay away from home like you do.”

  “Good to see you, too, Mom.”

  “You know I’m teasing. So this is Kylie? I’m Cheryl and we’re so glad to have you visit. Are you sure we can’t invite a couple of people over—”

  “No one,” Bryce interrupted and pulled Kylie back to his side.

  Bryce had his arm around her as they passed through the side door. He was quickly tugged away from her by his dad and replaced by his mom. Cheryl escorted her inside and through a ginormous foyer.

  “Are you guys tired? Want to retreat to a bedroom, hon? We have plenty of those.” His mother ignored the shaking of Kylie’s head and waved at a woman cleaning the stove. “Lorie G, sweetheart, can you please make up one of the rooms that opens to the patio? That will be nicer for Kylie in the morning. Do you swim, hon?”

  “She just got here, Mom. Can’t the interrogation wait a bit?”

  “We’re all so excited to meet a friend of our son’s. And, Bryce Johnson, am I supposed to ignore our guest because she just arrived? How long has it been since you both ate? Johnson! Where is that man?”

  “He’s checking on extra security, Mom.”

  “There’s more security out there than the President’s ranch. So food? Rest? Or just a big margarita?”

  “Mom.” Bryce sang her title like the kid who had said “Dad” earlier.

  “Bryce, go help your father or go see what’s in the fridge. Either way...you leave us alone for a while. It’s been so long since I’ve gotten the scoop from anyone younger than me. Especially a woman.”

  Kylie loved Bryce’s mom instantly. She was bubbly and so full of life moving through the simple ranch house—her inaccurate description of the twenty-odd-room house and studio.

  Cheryl Johnson had memorabilia sitting around and loved talking about where each piece had come from. The house was one hall after another. The center of everything could be considered a great room with a huge fireplace in the middle. Bryce’s mom encouraged Kylie to look around, asked if she enjoyed margaritas and went to the bar to make a pitcher.

  Kylie didn’t mention she didn’t drink. The explanation would bring the conversation back to her own past. She was more curious about Bryce and his family.

  “Is the dragon from China?” Kylie wasn’t about to pick it up. She’d had a similar very expensive piece in her former life.

  “Yes, Johnson brought that back from a tour when I was pregnant with the youngest. I normally traveled with him back then. That ivory carving of an elephant is something he picked up from the Japan tour for Bryce when he was three. At least I think that was the year.”

  Tour? It would be insulting to ask what kind of tour. That’s something you should know before staying overnight w
ith the parents. Right? She had no clue since Bryce hadn’t mentioned it. Or anything other than that their business was successful.

  Next to the dragon was a set of drumsticks and a picture encased in crystal. It looked as though it was Bryce’s parents and...

  “Isn’t that Duff McKagan from Guns N’ Roses?”

  “Yes. Johnson was an emergency replacement for a Dallas concert. It was sweet of him to send us that as a thank-you.” She stirred the ingredients.

  “He tried to pick me up at a party once.”

  “I had to keep a close eye on our baby girl when she came to a concert. All four kids performed on stage at one time or another with Johnson, but when she got older, guys would hit on her, too.” Cheryl shook her head, tsking under her breath. She poured salt onto a plate then began dipping the glass rims. “We’ve got all their pictures in the movie room. Go ahead and take a look. I’ll bring these in a sec.”

  It was hard not to want to take a peek. After everything that had happened, Kylie was ready for some normalcy and alone time. If she retreated to her bedroom, she’d break down. She’d rather be curious about Bryce and his life before becoming a Texas Ranger.

  The movie room had four sections of wall space dedicated to family pictures. Each featured a different child. Three were performance pics of Bryce’s siblings from various ages to adulthood, some with celebrities, some on stage alone. But the ones she was most curious about had one picture with a famous singer and then...horses.

  “He was barely five there and such a cutie. I think he wore his hair slicked back for a couple of weeks rehearsing for that show.”

  “Is that really Frankie Valli?”

  “Oh, yes. Johnson has played with just about everybody. It’s been a wild ride at times.” Cheryl handed her the margarita, then pointed at the back of the stage in the picture. “See that miniature drum set? Bryce played those.”

  Kylie held the cold glass, but didn’t have a real desire to take a sip. That was Sissy’s thing and didn’t really interest her any longer.

  “It was just one song, Mom. And I was so bad, Dad never asked me to do it again.” Bryce laughed and took the margarita from her hand, sipping before he pulled her close. “I like the rodeo pictures better.”